aquietmonster-deactivated201111
"I'm just saying that I don't trust this Kurt kid," Dean says. He can see Blaine pressing his lips together in a line, as he's prone to do before he gets angry - which isn't often. Dean thinks it's just ridiculous that Blaine can't see the clear problem here: Dalton Academy, basically custom-built for Blaine by an archangel, being invaded by some sassy kid that just happened to catch the eye of the son of the world's most protective parents. And is totally trying to lure him away from the safety of Dalton, with its salt-enriched walls and suspiciously perfect students.

"You don't trust my judgement," Blaine interprets. "Dad, there's nothing... off about him. Really."

Truth be told, Dean has no real reason to suspect Kurt of anything. Just about all of Dalton's students have very murky backgrounds and may or may not be created by Gabriel to populate the school, but Dalton had to be opened up for enrollment before it got itself noticed.

It was only a matter of time before some kind of outsider enrolled in at Dalton, and it just so happens that the new kid has latched onto Blaine like a leech. An evil leech, possibly bloodsucking and/or hailing from Hell. As far as Dean's concerned, it's totally justified that he suspects the kid.

"Sam, back me up here," he says. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Sam doesn't even look up from whatever he's typing, the bastard.

"Please, Dad," Blaine says, tilting his head just-so to the side - it doesn't take a genius to work out where that particular habit came from. "Mom would agree to meet Kurt."

Dean sighs.

"He doesn't even have to come over," Blaine adds, like he can sense his father's wavering. "You can just meet him backstage after regionals."

"When is that?" Dean leaps at the chance to change the subject. "Have you decided on any actual decent songs this time around?"

"Hey!" Sam calls.

"Stay out of this."

Blaine shrugs. "I like Uncle Sam's music. And we placed at sectionals, so I think the audience appreciated it more than they would Metallica."

"Whatever, kid."

"Are you coming to regionals, Dad?"

"Sure, I guess," Dean bites back the urge to sigh. Show choir kind of makes him want to light himself on fire, and it does nothing but confuse Castiel. He honestly has no idea where Blaine inherited that from. "D'you want us to wait until after the show to exorcise your little buddy?"

"Dad!" Blaine swats at his father, but they're both smiling, and it's not long until they start laughing. Dean thinks he's won this one, but Blaine figures he's safe in the knowledge that Kurt will make such a good impression that nothing will go wrong.

Regionals are certainly going to be eventful this year.

( what
what
what am i doing
what is my life
what are my choices )

Anonymous
"The Dapper Discord of Blaine Winchester." (part three)

Castiel brought it up one day when the couple was having breakfast. Over the years, Castiel had learned how to make a half decent meal. He specialized in breakfast, as Dean always reminded him that a hungry hunter was a shitty one, therefore breakfast was a crucial part of any hunter's day.

"We need to find a safe haven for our son, Dean." Dean took a large bite of his toast as Cas spoke. He stared down at his eggs and bacon with a frown. Suddenly, the eggs didn't look so appetizing. The tobasco sauce didn't help.

"Yeah," he began. "But there's not a lot of schools out there Blaine will have an easy time fitting into." With the rest of his toast, Dean pushed around the eggs on his plate in an attempt to distract himself. Castiel watched Dean for a long moment before dropping his gaze to his half-eaten bowl of oatmeal with a frown. Suddenly, the oatmeal didn't look so appetizing either. Not even the dinosaur eggs helped.

"... I think we should contact his uncle." Pursing his lips, Cas quietly shoveled his oatmeal around until it was piled on one side. It slowly slid back down the sides of the bowl into its original shape of nothingness. Dean let his toast rest atop the eggs as he wiped off his crumb-y fingers on his jeans.

"Sam?" He asked, furrowing his brow slightly. "What can he do?" Sam could do a lot of things. He could hunt nearly any creature the planet had to offer. He could sit through cheesy romance movies without the urge to purge his last meal. He could do a lot of things. Perhaps not things useful or relevant to Dean and Castiel's current dilema though.

Dean knew something was up when Castiel sighed and let his fork fall with a clink against the table.

"Not that uncle, Dean." The hunter groaned loudly.

"Aw crap. I hate that douchebag ."

Anonymous
"The Dapper Discord of Blaine Winchester." (part two.)

Castiel had never quite liked the principal at Blaine's school. He always had an eerie aura about him. Not to mention he looked strikingly similar to Alastair's last vessel. Blaine had only been enrolled in this school for three months, but both parents had visited this office on many occasions.

The next day, Castiel and Dean drove to pick Blaine up from school. It was a bit of a ways away from their home, but they had been making the drive often as of late. Blaine refused to take the bus anymore because of he was teased more there than in school. Dean parked the car in the quickly emptying lot and the two went into the school building. Their son was waiting outside the principal's office, iPod headphones in as he tapped his foot along with whatever melody played. Blaine looked up, pulling off his pink sunglasses as he spoke.

"Mom --" Castiel didn't cast a sideways glance towards Blaine; he strode in the office door without stopping to knock. Sighing quietly, Dean sat down across from Blaine and watched the door creak shut.

The principal (who for simplicity's sake shall be dubbed Alistair-look-alike) stopped typing the instant Castiel walked in. He had dealt with the angry-mother-in-a-trenchcoat for three months and he was still irritated every time he walked in unannounced.

"Mister Castiel, please - have a seat." Alistair-look-alike forced a smile and motioned to the leather chair in front of his desk. The angel strode forth and sat, unblinking.

"As the school principal, you should be aware of my son's problems with bullies." Alistair-look-alike inhaled slightly and folded his hands atop his desk. He was well aware of Blaine Winchester/Anderson's problem with bullies. He was also well aware of about three hundred other problems with bullies.

"Well, this kind of situation is hardly unexpected." He stated simply, still smiling a bit out of habit. Parents of gays were always trouble for him; they always wanted their precious little babies to be dealt with as if they were glass. The school district didn't pay Alistair-look-alike nearly enough to do stuff like that. Castiel, however, didn't expect Blaine to be dealt with like glass. Blaine was, after all, not glass. Castiel merely expected the bullies to be punished in some manner.

"Pardon?" Raising his eyebrows curiously, Castiel tilted his head to look at the principal. Alistair-look-alike strummed his fingers along the backside of his hand.

"Well, with your son's deviant sexuality, these things are bound to happen." He shrugged and leaned back in his chair. In the nine years he had been a principal, Alistair-look-alike had seen stuff like this over and over. It was a sort of natural order, that's all.

Castiel's expression turned dark, and out of nowhere, Alistair-look-alike felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up in dread.

- - -

The Impala cruised down the street leading back to the Winchester house at a comfortable thirty-five miles per hour. The hunter's grip on the steering wheel was horridly tight. About ten minutes ago, his knuckles had turned a pale white. As they turned into the driveway, Dean flipped off the stereo and took the keys out of the ignition.

"What the hell, Cas." Dean snarled, turning to look at the angel sitting silently in the passenger seat. In the backseat, Blaine glanced from parent to parent, fidgeting quietly with his iPod headphones.

"You smote the principal." Emphasizing the "smote," Dean furrowed his brow angrily. Castiel blinked once. Then, once again.

"I believe we should start looking into transferring Blaine."

Anonymous
"The Dapper Discord of Blaine Winchester." (part one.)

When Blaine came home one Tuesday afternoon, Dean was cleaning his prized Colt gun like usual. It was a usual occurence due to Dean's paranoia of Tuesdays repeating themselves like they had once before with his brother and a certain tricky archangel. Blaine tugged his scarf loose as he set his bookbag down in the entry hall. Dean looked up from where he was seated in the kitchen and called out,

"Hey, Blaine. How was school today?"

"Fine." As he spoke, he could hear the teen kick off his tennis shoes and tromp into the kitchen. Very un-Blaine of him, Dean noted. Normally, Blaine entered the kitchen and retold his day in lavish detail and with odd hand gestures. He had cut back on the hand gestures as of late, considering them to be a bit much, but he still came to chat about what was the recent happenings at his school. As Blaine appeared in the doorway, Castiel emerged from the fridge, triumphant in his search for a hamburger. Without a word, Blaine crossed the kitchen, opened the pantry, and retrieved the packet of Red Vines from within.

"I'll be up in my room." He mumbled, downcast. Dean studied his son's expression for a long moment, but didn't stop him from trudging up the stairs to his bedroom. There was silence; Dean looked to Castiel. Castiel looked to Dean.

"I am confused," the angel began. "Our Child did not seem fine in the traditional sense of the word." He sat down next to Dean and took a bite of burger. Chewing, Castiel stared at the hall, half expecting Blaine to come back and tell them what was bothering him. Dean set the Colt on the table delicately.

"I know.." Within a second, they could hear the voice of John Lennon floating through the house. "It must be the bullies again." Dean pinched the bridge of his nose as the song from upstairs grew louder. The hunter didn't mind the Beatles, honestly. It was better than Lady What's-Her-Name.

"That's it. Tomorrow, I'm going to take my shotgun and shoot off their nads." He declared suddenly, standing to walk to the fridge. Castiel was up in a flash to follow Dean's path, burger left ignored on the table. Of course he would disapprove, Dean thought to himself. Castiel always disapproved of Dean drinking to solve disputes. Shutting the door a bit more forcefully than needed, Dean shouldered his way past his partner and twisted the bottle cap off.

"Violence is not the answer, Dean." Apparently Ringo was the answer for Blaine. "I will speak with the school authorities about this matter." Castiel laid his hand gently on Dean's shoulder and nodded firmly as if to reassure him. Dean hesitated, but eventually caved in and set the beer onto the counter top. He nodded as well, smiling just a tad and just for Cas.

Anonymous
hi! I love your little blaine winchester series :) i'd love to draw something for it but because while understanding the general ideas/characterizations I've never watched supernatural I have no ideas. if you have any ideas to share i'd gladly try and draw some for you!