#about dean's dreams

[alaynestone]

i truly think the false dichotomy of viewing sam as perpetually powerless and dean as perpetually powerful goes all the way back to an inability to understand what the show always made obvious: they were both victims of their upbringing and they were both deprived of normalcy and safety. dean even more so than sam. first because of the fire, then because he wasn't sheltered from the truth and was already being taken on his first shooting lessons in the first grade.

dean wasn't consciously choosing to become a child soldier and a substitute parent, he was a scared traumatized kid grabbing onto anything that could make him feel prepared and in control in a world that didn't make sense anymore. "there's just chaos and violence and random unpredictable evil that comes out of nowhere and rips you to shreds".

[arcanespillo]

The sheep or the horse, numb as the moon, need God to be sung unto them. The dog needs it too. He is sick of dead bodies.

The Saints Come Marching In, Anne Sexton\Dream a Little Dream of Me script\How to Be a Dog, Andrew Kane\Angel of Hope and Calendars, Anne Sexton

[penisbrigade]

woke up today in a world where it was canon that dean and cas would share a bed when they slept in hotels or whatever (platonically🤨❓) and was then faced with the cold ice bucket challenge reality that this was, in fact, not something that happened. my disappointment is immeasurable and my day is ruined

[emadomu]

If I was Adam Milligan after Jack restores the world I would kms in front of Sam and Dean or I would kill them no in between.

[perfectthewayyouare]

ok my spn amv girlies who is going to make the so american oliviarodrigonatural destiel amv?

[thevioletcaptain]

when jensen finished singing watching over me, then said "are you sweating yet, dean?" i know i wasn't the only person who had a very brief and intense out of body experience before he casually added "yeah, that's right, our bass player is named dean."

[siampie]

Get Off the Highway || Chapter 6

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 2.7k 

Warnings/tags: Enemies to lovers trope, angst, childhood trauma, eldest daughter syndrome

A/N: It had been hard to write for this reader but now, I have a hold of who they are. And I hope you love to read more about her. And yes, this fic is self-indulgent, but I’m also exploring my self-loathing and at times self-worthlessness. I’m getting better at loving myself and being kind to myself but it takes times. So, if you’ve ever felt this way at one point in your life, know that you are loved, you are enough, and you don’t have to prove anything. Enjoy this chapter, it’s for you; my girlies and my non-binary friends.

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Dividers by @cafekitsune

You kept replaying the talk you had with Andy. It was stuck in your head, playing in a loop, what would your life be like if you had given a chance to the relationship? No matter the number of scenarios you’d come up with, the ending was always the same. You would have ended up resenting each other or worse, destroying one another.

You packed your stuff and jumped into your truck. And you drove. Where to? You didn’t know. You just needed to get away from Andy. You no longer wanted to be confronted to your own mistakes. Being with Andy had not been a mistake but leaving had. You were a coward for this, you knew that. Andy was free of you. He could be happy now, if he wanted to. He could find someone better than you. But you could not escape yourself. You could not run away from all the dark thoughts that plagued you, more often than not.

You drove for hours with no real destination. You didn’t want to go home. Your brother; Matthew; would be there and he would want to talk. And that was the last thing you wanted. You didn’t want your brother to tell you that Andy wasn’t all that great. You didn’t want your brother to tell you that you were right to leave. You knew you weren’t. Not in the way you did, at least. He deserved an explanation. Or at the very least, a goodbye. You gave him nothing.

You were a coward.

In the wee hours of the morning, you were parked outside of the bunker. You remained seated in your car, watching the sun rose. You could not conceive the idea to deal with your family at this moment. You did not have the energy or the will to do so. However, dealing with Dean Winchester and his apparent hatred of you seemed easy. At least, you knew where you stand with him. You didn’t have to perform with him. You could be yourself. You didn’t have to pretend to be something you were not to please and appease. You could be your worst self and he would not care, because he didn’t expect any better from you.

There was no pressure.

Although, you thought it would be easier to deal with Dean Winchester, you stayed in your car. You sat in your car, parked outside of the bunker for hours. Maybe it was a bad idea to even be there. Maybe you should just start your car and leave again, find a new case and go to work. Your knuckles turned white as your grip on the wheel painfully tightened. You dropped your forehead on it, taking a deep breath.

“Why am I like this?” You muttered to yourself.

Three loud knocks snapped you out of your thoughts. Your head snapped up, your heart racing beneath your ribcage. You glared at the man outside of your window.

“Bucko!” You growled, “the hell is wrong with you?”

Dean was standing outside of your car, a grocery bag in his arms. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt you in the middle of your midlife crisis, princess.” You rolled your eyes at him. “You look like shit by the way.”

“Didn’t ask but thanks.” You glared at him, opened your car door, hitting him.

“Easy tiger,” he put a protective hand around the kraft bag. “You’re gonna crush my pie.”

You walked around your car and grabbed your bag from the trunk, “yeah, it would be such a great tragedy.” Dean made a face. “What? It’s just pie.” You shrugged.

“It’s not just pie, okay?” Dean shot back, as you two started towards the bunker.

Bickering with Dean was easy. It pulled you out of the dark place you had thrown yourself into, for a very brief moment. You were not about to plague them with your temporary crisis. You just needed a place to unwind before going back to reality. The reality in which you were so fucked up you could not maintain a relationship with a good man. The reality in which you were not good enough for anyone, not even for your siblings, nor were you for your parents. The only one that seemed to care about you; was your little brother. But even he, you thought, would probably be better off without you. And one day, he would realize it and he, too, would leave.

You turned and tossed. Sleep was refusing to come to you. You huffed, glaring at the ceiling of your room. The sheets felt too heavy on your body, the pillows weren’t fluffed enough. Nothing seemed right. Too many dark thoughts swirling around in your mind. You turned on your side, tucked your arm under your pillow, and let out a deep breath. Hoping for the whirlwind of emotions, and the dark thoughts would leave you be.

It lasted a few minutes. You huffed again in frustration. You threw the covers off of you and got out of bed. The floor was cold under your bare feet. Dressed in dark leggings and an old shirt, you quietly made your way to the kitchen.

“Why am I like this?” You kept asking to yourself. Not than an answer would miraculously fall on your lap. You just couldn’t decide whether you were born this way or your parents made you so. Leaving to deal with the consequences of the years of neglect and abuse.

“Can’t sleep, princess?” Dean’s voice boomed from behind you.

“Jesus Christ!” You exclaimed, dripping some hot coffee onto your hand.

“Somebody’s jumpy tonight,” Dean snorted.

“You ought to wear a freaking bell,” you shot back.

“You should probably lay off the coffee. It ain’t really good for the nerves.”

You glared at him. “You’re really funny, you know that.”  

Dean sat at the table, his back against the wall. His eyes roamed over your curves, appreciating the way the leggings clung to your thighs and ass. If it wasn’t for your attitude and the way you acted around him and his brother, he’d probably try having you in his bed. But he didn’t think you were worth the headaches.

You placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of him, and sat across from him.

“Isn’t it a little too late for coffee?” Dean took the cup in his hands nonetheless.

“You’re not obligated to drink it, bucko.” You retorted before taking a sip from your cup.

Dean took a sip from his own cup, eyebrows raising into his hairline. He was surprised to find out that your coffee was quite good. The best he had in a while, not that you needed to know about that.

You were staring at the table with a deep frown. A heavy sigh left your lips. The coffee help eased a bit of the tension in your shoulders but wasn’t exactly doing much.

“Alright, I’ll bite.” Dean said after a few minutes. “What crawled up your ass?”

You looked up at him. “Nothing.” You shrugged. “And even if there was something, you think I want to talk about it with you. Of all people.”

He pushed off of the wall, and angled himself to face you fully. “Suit yourself, princess.” He leaned his elbows on the table. “All I’m saying is you’re here, in the middle of the night, drinking coffee.”

“So are you.” You pointed out. “Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?”

Dean huffed out a laugh. “Well, I asked first.”

“Real mature,” you snorted, shaking your head a little before taking another sip.

Dean Winchester hated you. So, why did he even care to know about your inner turmoil? Your eyes roamed his face, going from his green eyes to his lightly freckled nose, to his plump lips that were begging to be kissed.

You shook away the thought, confused as to why you were thinking about his lips.

“What?” Dean questioned, a frown on his face.

“Nothing.” You quickly said. “Why do you hate me so much?” You blurted out before you could even think about it.

“Like I’m the only one,” Dean retorted.

“I don’t hate you.”

“Really?”

“I’m only reacting to you,” you told him, defensively. “You’re all huffing and puffing, every time I show up.”

“Come on, you can’t be serious, right?” Dean shot back. You shook your head lightly, frowning. “You’re always so—snob,” he finally spat. “Like you’re above us or something.”

“That’s not true,” you said back. “I never thought I was—above any of you.”

“You certainly act like it,” Dean nodded at you. “Like you know better than we do.”

“I did know certain things better than you and your brother. Not everything.” You shot back. “Can you really blame me for being smart?”

He stood up from his seat, “you’re not smart. See, smart people know how to follow simple instructions.” He put his used cup in the sink.

“Not if they’re stupid instructions.” You countered, going to put your own cup in the sink.

He glared down at you, breathing quickly through his mouth. “They’re keeping you alive, princess.”

“Yeah?” You said a little breathless, “so, I should have just left you and your brother to die, then?”

“Didn’t know you cared so much about my safety, sweetheart?” Dean smirked at you.

Your breath hitched in your throat, “I don’t—”

“GUYS!” Sam’s voice cut your answer short, “really? It’s the middle of the night. Can’t this wait until morning?”

“He started it.” You weakly said.

“Now who’s 12?” Dean shot back.

You glared at him, blowing out a long breath through your nose. You walked away from him, and quickly apologized to Sam as you walked past him. You were asking a simple question. You genuinely wanted to know why he hated you so much? Why couldn’t he just answer like normal people? Instead of provoking you, as he often did. As though he enjoyed riling you up.

And was that truly what he thought of you? You had been called many things in your life but a snob and a know-it-all—never.

You plopped down onto your bed. More furious and agitated than before. Dean Winchester was the bane of your existence. He solely existed to rile you up, to anger you, to vex you. And he enjoyed every second of it, it seemed.

Why must he be this way?

A middle-aged woman wearing a simple white dress, with a pink shawl, and a straw hat on her head stood before you. You didn’t know her. You had never seen her in your life. You weren’t truly sure about this. Her features were fuzzy, unclear. Although, she felt familiar. You were surrounded by other people, people that remained faceless. Someone was introducing to those people but you didn’t remember, or you couldn’t care.

“You know we care for you, right?” The woman in the pink shawl said. “We always have.”

“Then why didn’t you take us with you?” You asked back.

She looked at you, sadly. Sorrow was etched in her features, she looked away from you. You felt it in your chest, the regret, the sorrow, the pain. It was all on display on her face, that she now kept hidden from view. You felt grief clawing at your chest. So much so, you couldn’t help but cry.

You woke up sobbing. The sorrow and grief you had felt in your dream, followed you in reality. You had never met this woman, she wasn’t family. She wasn’t even remotely an acquaintance. You didn’t know why she would say those words to you. But it wasn’t her words that hurt you, that caused your tears. It was the way she looked at you, the grief etched on her face was so strong.

“Why was she so sad?” You whispered to yourself. You rubbed a hand on your chest, soothing the ache you were feeling. You tried to stop crying. It was just a dream, you kept thinking. A simple dream, it shouldn’t affect you that much. And yet, this woman that you did not know, had felt grief and regret. She had felt them so strongly, you had felt it in your own bones. You tried to stifle your sobs behind your hand. Muffling them down.

Dean walked past your room to look for a drink. He had been able to sleep some but he didn’t sleep much these days. Whether it was his nightmares or just out of habit, he found himself awake in the middle of the night, at times, seeking for a strong drink. When he walked past your room, he heard the muffled sobs.

A soft knock on the door warned you of his presence, “hey, princess, you okay?”

You quickly wiped the tears away from your face, “yes, I’m good.” You hiccupped, nodding quickly.

“Doesn’t sound like it.” He stepped further into the room.

“No, I swear I’m good.” You said again, “it was just—a weird dream.”

“Are you sure it was a dream and not a nightmare?” Dean questioned.

“No, it was a dream.” You wiped the fresh tears that had fallen on your face, “I’m sorry.”

“Come on,” Dean extended his hand out to you. “You look like you could use a drink.”

“It’s a week day.” You said after Dean had put down the drink, in front of you.

“It’s Friday, practically the weekend.” Dean answered, “I’m sure it’s okay.”

Your tears had slowed down but still, you were still confused and full of sorrow. And you just didn’t know why you felt that way. The pain in your chest was real, almost unbearable. The grief that arose there was real, you just didn’t know what it was all for. You didn’t think it mattered anyway.

“Wanna talk about it?” Dean asked you.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged, staring at the table. “There’s not much to say about it.” And yet, you described to him what had happened in the dream. How the look on this woman’s face that you could clearly see, in spite of her fuzzy features, had stricken you. How even then, as you were telling it to him, it made you cry again. “She looked really sad.” And fresh tears spilled out of your eyes. “I know it’s stupid, I don’t even know why I’m crying about this. It’s just a dream.”

“It���s not stupid.” Dean reassured you, sipping from his drink. “And like you said, it was just a dream. None of it was real.”

“But what I felt, was.” You said back, taking a sip from your drink. “I mean it wasn’t just sadness. It was—regret, you know. The kind of look you give someone when you wished things were different. Like—”

“Hey, it was just a dream.” Dean reminded you. “No reason for you to dwell on it.”

“So, I should just forget about it?”

“Yeah, you should. It won’t do you any good to try and understand it.” Dean leaned his back on the wall to his left. “You had a good cry about it. Dream is over. No reason to dwell on it.”

“Maybe, you’re right.” You puffed out a long breath. “I should not think about it so much.”

“I'm always right.” Dean quipped back. You huffed out a laugh.

Both of you sat in silence, savoring the cheap whiskey. It was the bottom shelf kind. Not really chosen for its taste but rather for the way it burned on its way down. Maybe Dean was right, it was just a dream. It meant nothing. Still, you couldn’t shake the pain you had felt at the look on her face. Whether you wanted it or not, this grief-stricken look would stay with you for days.

“I have to ask, what’s up with the—uh—no weekday drink rule?” Dean questioned.

You let out a long breath, “I have a weird fear of becoming—addicted to alcohol.” You slowly admitted. “Growing up, I saw what alcohol could do to people. Especially, to my dad. To us.” You shrugged, “so, I decided to have a nonalcoholic drink on weekday rule.” His eyes roamed your face, quietly. “That has been bothering you for a while, hasn’t it?”

“Can’t say it didn’t.” He brought the drink to his lips, “but I get it.”

“Cool.”

You gave him a small smile. The dream had been long forgotten. At least for now. Maybe, he was right, the dream meant nothing. So, no need to worry about it. If nothing else, the dream had the merit to bring you and Dean Winchester closer.

Or at the very least, made you see each other in a new light.

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[suncaptor]

I do think how Sam is neurodivergent is the most central piece of how he gets treated by his family & the narrative though.

[lovealwayssay]

My brain has completely forgotten almost everything about Supernatural seasons 9 and 12-15. I remember bits and pieces, but I cannot for the life of me tell you what the overarching plot was for any of those seasons. Here’s what I know about each of those seasons:

9. Sam is possessed by an angel? Dean dies in the end and becomes a demon idk

12. Peak Destiel vibes, Mary’s back, Cas is killed?

13. Widower arc, Jack is there

14. Jack kills Mary at some point idk

15. Lets kill God, divorce arc, “You changed me, Dean”, worst finale ever

[animangalover-writes]

So I had a dream about wincest(being obsessed with each other as always lol)

I was half asleep when I wrote this so bear with me

So I had this dream where some monster essentially got to sam and manipulated his world into his like ideal world. And his ideal world was him being a kid again with Dean taking care of him, just them in this little house. The same perfect day played over and over again, like a time loop. And somewhere outside this house is the real Dean, caught a time loop of his own, as he continously breaks into this little house to try to get to Sam and free him. But this monster always gets to him first and catches him off guard. It's like he doesn't remember the last time he was in the house, like it always feels like the first time setting foot in it, because the creature uses the same move over and over to kill him(but like, he doesn't really die, its more like this world is its own little pocket dimension and every time dean dies he wakes up outside of it again). And ever time, kid Sam hears something, but the monster/kid Dean tells him it's ok and they ignore it.

By the way, the monster in my dream is basically like this black-grey sentient goop(think Venom) that can morph itself into anyone it wants, and is hanging in weird strands all around the house that Sam doesn't notice. But dean does, and even though he tries to avoid stepping in it, it always catches his foot and essentially Webs his hands and gun in place, disarming him, then slams him against a glass mirror or a wall hard enough that it kills him.

Anyway, somewhere outside of this loop, Dean is vaguely aware that this monster always catches him with the same move, and the only reason he dies every time is because the surprise attack makes him too unsteady to shoot it, and catches him at a point where his footing is off, so he's easy to take down. But every time he enters the house again, he forgets what he learned, and it takes him down all over again. He admits to someone unseen that the reason it takes him down so easily/catches him off guard is because he's alone, aka Sam's not there to help him.

At some point, Sam starts becoming more aware that something is off, and that things are too perfect.

This is where the dream gets kind of fuzzy, but essentially Sam becomes aware enough and, still as a kid, sees adult dean walking through the house and calls out to him, confused. This time, Dean sees Sam and looks utterly relieved and says "Sammy..." like he's so happy to have found him. But this distraction causes the monster to catch him off guard again. It catches his foot and grabs his hands in its weird goo, but Sam is here now, and he sees this creature for the first time. So he yells out to Dean to move a certain way that gives him enough leverage to shoot the creature(this was mentioned as something dean always knew would help but always forgot when in the house).

Meanwhile, the monster actively tries to get into Sam's mind again and tell him, as young Dean, that everything will be ok so long as he let's him kill this intruder who's trying to hurt them. Finally it stops working on Sam and he becomes his real age again.

Some fight happens in between that I didn't really get to see, but the outcome was this: they managed to hurt the creature by working together, now that Dean wasn't alone, he doesn't die and actually gets some good shots in. At some point, Sam rushes the thing and the only reason it doesn't hurt him is because it grew some sort of attachment to him during the whole thing, and so he's the only one that it would let kill it(feels like a metaphor for Sam and Dean's real codependent obsessive relationship).

Anyway I don't remember much after this so that's basically all I have, so yeah.(also ignore any typos, I didn't edit this. I just woke up)

[magnificent-winged-beast]

Girl... You don't understand the power of HIS PICTURE STILL AS CASTIEL, and those words can do to a girl.

[fatallyaddictedtofiction]

I had a dream a while ago where Sam and Dean were at the top of a mountain and Godzilla was about to blow it up with his insane death ray, so they jumped off into a lake and found themselves in a prehistoric jungle/forest and hardcore purgatory!dean emerged from normal dean and Sam was watching dean with these sad eyes like "so this is what you were like back then?"

I disliked how they handled post-purgatory dean so much i dreamed about sam reacting to how dean acted.

Dont get me wrong i love the purgatory arc and all of deans flashbacks but a YEAR there??? Some behaviours have GOTTA be instinct at that point. And i get they focused on that in the first episode for like 10 minutes, but i wanted more of Dean being more jumpy at sounds, always scouting for exits, finding it hard to slow down,,, and all of this over an extended period of time while his body adjusts to being back in the "real world"

I think its just bcs they kept saying "oh it was so bad" "it was so dangerous" etc etc to me it was like... Okay then? Wheres the proof??

[shallowseeker]

There was a first morning, for Cas making Dean coffee in the bunker.

I wonder if Dean froze in place.

I wonder if the sight soothed something deep inside.

[youchangedmedestiel]

I'm still doing my rewatch while my sister is seeing the show for the first and, man, there was thing I didn't remember very well.

Dean facing his demon self in a dream, that was so fucking INTENSE! WOW! And seeing Dean not wanting to go to Hell while you know what will happen is fucking heartbreaking. He finally said his father put so much shit on him and was like, "Yeah you go tell them, LOUDER!" The line that finished me was him saying he didn't deserve to go to Hell. He really didn't. And it makes me so mad to know how his story end, whatever, this is a problem for later.

And then in Mystery Spot, Sam had to live 6 months without Dean. You can see how much he suffered. Before watching it, I told my little sister that it was a fun episode, a bit sad but still funny. At the end she said: "that was the episode you wanted to see?" Well yeah, it was but in my head it was definitely funnier. But here Sam looked fucking destroyed at the end.

[the--karkats--pajamas]

I’m absolutely not the first person to say this but I’m saying it.

Dean got exactly what he’s always wanted. He died on a hunt, went out swinging. Went to heaven but it’s sorta different than regular heaven. His brother got to leave hunting, live a normal life, complete with vague blurry wife and named his kid after Dean. He got some equally vague confirmation that Cas is back but he didn’t have to see him and experience the consequences of his confession. He sees his brother again in heaven.

What I’m saying is season 16 could open with Sam saving Dean from a djinn.

[purgaytorysupremacy]

maybe since i had to take a break from my job to move away and do grad school i'll finally have time to do all the meta essays i've had bubbling in my brain for literal years 👀