forsaken.

[bloodsaltedshifting]

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>>hey god. why are you doing this to me?<< because you have no other choice! you're gonna carry a heavy weight on your shoulders, son. sometimes that's just how the world works. you gotta learn how to deal with the cards you got dealt. no matter how shitty the hand is! >>am i not living up to what i'm supposed to be?<< you started out a boy and turned into what you were destined to become. you hunt and you kill. you do what you were told. but what when that foundation starts to crumble? what happens when heaven starts to fall? welcome to the study of when things go down the wayward road. supernatural's DEAN WINCHESTER! highly selective. highly private. by dixon. TRIGGERING THEMES. 21+ ONLY. will be a cautious follower of other supernatural blogs. side-blog, follows back from @esoterium. >>hey god. i think you owe me a great big apology!<<

affiliated with: @qapsiel && @murderdeals important links: rules. main. memes. offdash. carrd soon! blog's a work in progress!

[bloodsaltedshifting]

url slowly changing.

@bloodsaltedshifting >> @bloodsalted

// i'll be paying attention here til everyone gets the memo and whatnot. also, i'll be following everyone's url here in a few. just wanted to get some basics posted in a bunch before i followed everyone. that way y'all's dashes aren't getting exploded. oof! staying the same: everything -- asks will be answered there, affiliates, mutuals, threads, the whole shebang. changing: dean's getting his own place and that's it.

[bloodsaltedshifting]

url slowly changing.

@bloodsaltedshifting >> @bloodsalted

// i'll be paying attention here til everyone gets the memo and whatnot. also, i'll be following everyone's url here in a few. just wanted to get some basics posted in a bunch before i followed everyone. that way y'all's dashes aren't getting exploded. oof! staying the same: everything -- asks will be answered there, affiliates, mutuals, threads, the whole shebang. changing: dean's getting his own place and that's it.

[bloodsaltedshifting]

meme replies and stuffs!

// so i been a lil slacking in my inbox lately but listen. the brain's been wonky a lil sure. but with the idea of possibly giving dean his own main blog, i been keeping these little gems like a meme dragon to answer over there, too. rest assured. everything you send here will carry over there. cause it's looking like i'm gonna do that. also @murderdeals can't even see my blog on their dash unless it's mobile for some reason so that'll help big time in that aspect. cause .. man i can't have crowley missing any potential disses. or uncle!cain accidentally missing out on any shenanigans or potential high fives.

...no comment. :X

much love.

[bloodsaltedshifting]

do i move dean over to his own blog?

heck yes!

hell no!

my dude. a sideblog works just fine.

Voting ended onFeb 22, 2024

[bloodsaltedshifting]

// all theads, plots, mutuals affiliates, etc stay the same and carry over--mind ya! nothing would be dropped. so like. this is totally a linear shift! i wouldn't be dropping anything/anyone!

[bloodsaltedshifting]

#less than an hour left. one more go. and then we'll see sup!#already getting things in order just in case.#but ya!#if i do this i'll send yall a link.#to just make is ez pz.

yoo i don't wanna write those again.

[angelprompts]

uh oh! i’ve fallen in love with the enemy!   ♡   feel free to change anything as needed.  happy writing ᵔᴗᵔ

“you vex me.”

“tell me you feel it too..”

“whatever is going on between us.. i feel it, too.”

“even though you have a knife to my throat, i can’t help but feel like you’re flirting with me right now.”

“you… have feelings for me?”

“we can’t do this.”

“i’ve tried to deny it for far too long. i can’t anymore.”

“i’m tired of pretending there isn’t something between us.”

“i’m tried of pretending i don’t love you.”

“are you blushing..?”

“maybe this would work in another life. but not this one.”

action prompts:

include  ‘⮀’  with the action for the receiver to do it to the sender instead

[ gaze ]  for the sender to gaze into the eyes of the receiver

[ pin ]  for the sender to pin the receiver against a wall

[ pause ]  for our muses to pause mid-fight to just stand and stare at each other

[ save ]  for the sender to save the receiver from a near-death experience

[ defend ]  for the receiver’s reaction to hearing the sender defend them

[ hand ]  for the sender to offer their hand to help the receiver get up from the ground

[ confess ]  for the receiver’s reaction to the sender confessing they have feelings for them

[ lean in ]  for the receiver’s reaction to the sender slowly leaning in to kiss them

[ tension relief ]  for our muses to finally relieve their sexual tension  (in whatever way the receiver sees fit)

[qapsiel]

                             THIS IS VERY CLOSE. This is closer than allowed. There's no personal space left at all because Castiel's leg is between Dean's and on top of it, and their chests are almost touching; he can smell the gunpowder in Dean's hair and the generic motel soap he sometimes uses because the hunter has his forehead pressed under Castiel's chin. If he were a machine, an error message would pop up in his head. As it is, it's definitely close to something like that because it makes no sense. Dean complained about the lack of privacy just a couple of days ago when Castiel touched down right behind him to ask for his help to find the archangel Raphael. And now they're tangled together like — like — some pieces of string somebody carelessly tossed into a drawer.

                                Castiel feels warm all over, which might be his body's reaction to being close to a decidedly colder human. He has to make up for the lack of warmth, surely. "You didn't like my voice at the gas station or the motel," he reminds Dean. Granted, it destroyed mirrors and windows, but still. This isn't his true voice, but Castiel has to admit that it isn't Jimmy Novak's voice, either. Maybe it's a mix of both. He's nonsensically happy that Dean likes it, though.

                              "I grew up in a galaxy you humans call GLASS-z13," he starts eventually, "it was beautiful. I played with my siblings in the light of dying stars until I absorbed all their energy and was strong enough to help shape the universe. I created a lot of stars and moons. You don't know them, though, they're too far away. The only planet that will mean anything to you is Saturn. It was my idea to destroy some small moons and scatter their debris as rings." He may sound a little proud.

[bloodsaltedshifting]

"well that's because... kinda blew up the world around me. case you didn't notice," he groggily replies as he buries his face deeper into the darkness that the space between his face and the slope of cas's neck provides. a hand that once hung limp now curls into the fabric of the angel's shirt balling it up into a loosely held fist. "this is a nice one. the quiet one. the inside voice," he hums under his breath and brows shove together unseen. a dreamy thought that goes unspoken. this is a voice that he could fall asleep to much more easily than he dare admit out loud. "yeah. you can talk in this one. and we can be like this tonight. if.. if it's okay.."

in his hazy mind, he hopes it is. he knows he often wants his space. keeps cas at arm's length because there's emotions that cas brings up in him that he doesn't know how to process or what to do with. how to make them mean what they feel and make them make sense. they're confusing and overwhelming. such a high sense of safety when he lets them be. other times? wholly something else. theirs is a relationship that confuses and puzzles him to no end. because he doesn't know what they are. what this is. but he means something so deep. that it can hurt him to his core one second. and make him feel like he's completely safe. at ease. protected. another. protected. it's a big word when it comes to him.

"saturn's my favorite. always has been. the rings are why. always wondered what they looked like up close. how many colors there were. was always so pretty because it was so different," he smiles lazily drifting along with the conversation. his leg shifts and drags the angel partially on top of his chest blotting out the room and weighing himself down. his other arm bends between them, fingers fan out over castiel's chest. "i can see why now. even back then. instead of finding the ones that don't belong. or don't fit right.. you were making them."

[singersalvaged]

"yeah, yeah, yeah." his demeanour left nothing to the imagination and in her usual way, Alice reformed the wall that generally stayed up. The confidence came fluttering back in and a delicate, muscular back straightened. "Sorry, I was going for a whole... cinematic feel. Guess it's not a romance, I'll have to work on my stand-up and try out a comedy next." behind blue eyes the wheels were already churning. Pranks, perhaps? something to keep her 'mentor' on his toes, though calling him that out loud did give her the heebie-jeebies.

Residing on the conversation of loneliness could not continue. Funny, considering she had been the one to bring it up but truthfully Allie didn't quite enjoy wearing her heart on her sleeve, no. Most of the time it was left on the shitter while she cried for ten minutes to Blue October, then used one-ply toilet paper to make her face look heavenly and move along with the day. No sense in changing a dynamic that wasn't broken. Best to keep those inner workings private, even with him.

A few seconds later she raised the cocktail up to her lips and took a long sip. "I know you're going to say something stupid about the romance comment, it was a joke. Try not to let it feed your ego. I'm still the hotter one." Her face was formed away from him, taking in the long draw of the open field, but Allie wondered if he was wearing that handsome shit-eating grin that he normally did around the ladies. "dork" a final follow-up, though the word was spoken with loving undertones. Thus seemed to be the innate nature of their friendship. Much unspoken, but somehow understood.

[bloodsaltedshifting]

a quick puff of laughter light up green eyes. yeah yeah yeah. he knew he derailed her train of thought. shifted the mood from where it was heading. but that's what he does. isn't it? takes the moments that are getting too serious. too close to a moment and turns them into something like this. something that makes her smile and laugh rather than worry about him. cause he knows she does. knows that she worries and frets over him. he sees the looks she gives him. when she thinks he won't notice. it's his job to read people. to see what others don't. let's not mention he grew up like that.

always predicting what john winchester might think or say or do next. knowing his father and what his father expected of him and sammy and their world made it easier for them to learn. to adapt to their new lifestyle after their mom. to predict what might become of their father's mood and mind from one minute to the next as he further spiraled in his mindset to find the thing that murdered their mother. and, with it, took the last person they had and twisted him into something else. dean learned quick to learn him. and thus, could attempt (attempt) to buffer some of that when it came to sammy. sometimes. he thinks he pulled it off. so? hiding emotions from dean winchester? sorta like a bleeding rabbit attempting to hide from a preying fox in the dead of winter. that trail's hard as hell to snuff out. no matter how fast you run. or how quickly your burrow? sooner or later? you'll be seen.

but has he let on a shred of knowing? not even a little bit. not even the tiniest. dean has never not once attempted to take advantage of any sort of feelings. or their relationship as it stands. anyone who knows him might not believe it. might question him if he's really himself. but there's a list as long as his arm why. but he is sporting that shit eating grin. just for a second. before he catches it, palms it away and gasps. "fine. you be the prettier one. i'm the one that's more handsome anyway. still haven't got the muscles to take that title yet. gotta work on those abs first." his chin comes down to rest against the top of her head. then his nose. "maybe hit your growth spurt once and for all, too." and his laugh musses up the top of her hair before he pulls away and ducks into the trunk for another beer. "need another while i'm in here? miss cassiopeia?"

[bloodsaltedshifting]

// taking a lil break. been working in photoshop since i got home. doing a page layout. and working on a new pinned post graphic. something for the mobile. and something else if i move. which if i do, i really wanna make a full bloggo. MAYBE. also been messing around with carrd. oof. so yeah! some breaktime. then maybe a lil bit of writing.

much love!

[seasononesam]

# winchester logic | insp

[bloodsaltedshifting]

what does love feel like to you?

fire

one touch from them sets you on fire. and it burns and burns and takes over everything in its path, including you. you don't care. they are worth it. they are worth every sacrifice and tear, every smile and laugh. as long as they are at your side, you will happily light that match and set everything aflame again. don't slip on the gasoline, my love.

tagged by: @ruinedmyself (more like ruined me with this omfg!) tagging: @qapsiel , @murderdeals , @singersalvaged , @sarishim , @hostiae , @heavenlylies , @fearfled && anyone else that wants the feels tag you're it!

[bloodsaltedshifting]

do i move dean over to his own blog?

heck yes!

hell no!

my dude. a sideblog works just fine.

Voting ended onFeb 22, 2024

[bloodsaltedshifting]

// all theads, plots, mutuals affiliates, etc stay the same and carry over--mind ya! nothing would be dropped. so like. this is totally a linear shift! i wouldn't be dropping anything/anyone!

[bloodsaltedshifting]

heya lovely people!

// sorries for the quiet the last couple of days. lil string of no good very bad events on top of being sick kinda left me wonky off the dash but we are looking on the up and up! just gotta get through today at work and then i'm off for a couple of days. no plans other than a lil prep for the convention next week! so you won't be able to get rid of me!

hope y'all have a fantastic say. i'm just lurking here before i try to get a lil but more snoozes. woke up in the middle of sleeps cause i was sore as heck. bleh! getting kitty love right now tho. so maybe maybe!! it was worth it!!! :D

much love.

[bloodsaltedshifting]

this amazon review..

// oh my god. okay i was looking for stuff to take to the con to get signed and this review came up on the cas funko pop. and i am just... this writer and i need to be friends. cause damn. rofl!!!!

5.0 out of 5 stars A tiny bisexual angel to watch over you while you sleep Reviewed in the United States on June 3, 2021 (by joaquin r)

Verified Purchase

Like most Funko Pops, Cas is small and plastic and adorable, with a paint job better than some others I've seen. I was surprised and delighted to discover that his wings aren't just translucent plastic -- they have a few specks of glitter in them as well. This would make a great gift for the Supernatural fan in your life. Just don't let it confess its love for your Dean Winchester Pop, because then your Hot Topic exclusive collectable will be immediately sucked into the Empty. And then your Dean Pop will be sad, and so will you.

[qapsiel]

                          HE DOESN'T THINK TWICE WHEN HE FINDS DEAN CURLED UP ON THE SOFA: He just pulls off his coat and uses it as a blanket since the real blanket is buried beneath all sorts of things and gives off a slightly strange smell, too. Humans aren't made to sleep without a blanket or coat unless it's hot summertime; their body temperature drops one to two degrees when they doze off, and without appropriate countermeasures, they soon start to feel cold, which affects sleep quality. Losing their fur to evolution has a lot of downsides.

                          Jimmy Novak's trench coat, however, is pleasantly warm and soft, and although Castiel doesn't like to part from it, he finds that he doesn't mind as long as Dean gets high-quality sleep time. He needs it, all things considered. 

                          What he doesn't expect is the hand that curls around his wrist and stops him from leaving. The sleepy voice that asks him to stay. Castiel hovers momentarily, indecisive, before he gives a curt nod. The one foot still sticking in a boot bothers him, so he unties the laces and pulls it off before he carefully lowers himself on the minimal space a ratty motel couch offers when half of it is already taken up by a more than averagely-sized male human. Castiel awkwardly mirrors Dean's posture, one arm used as a pillow. "What should I do?" he asks eventually. "I don't sleep. I'm not allowed to watch you sleep. What's happening now?"

[bloodsaltedshifting]

dean's foot immediately drops once it's let go. toes wriggle in their sock now that they can breathe freely. "thank you," comes the muffled voice as he turns his head towards the pillow he managed to grab off the bed and toss there earlier in the evening. grateful for the warmth as it seeps into his chilled bones, he hums happily. the coat. cas's body warmth. it's perfect for a body that was, in fact, chilled as cas suspected knew it would be.

one set of fingers remains latched onto that wrist. he's not letting go. cas is given no choice but to join him and concede to his request. not that he's holding on with a whole lot of strength. it'd take him being far more awake than he is to do that. however! he is making his intention known. seems to work out, too. because the couch bobs as castiel moves to join him. good.

long legs soon tangle with cas's. makes more room when they're locked together. one arm lazily wraps around the angel's upper body. keeps him close? see? no one's falling off the couch. not on dean winchester's watch. without further ado...dean's forehead's pressed to the nape of cas's neck and the hunter's body melts. "mmm. don't know. maybe you can just talk to me about whatever.. tell me something you've done. or seen. just. fill up the quiet. so i can sleep again.." his breath is warm and his frame seems to seek out every bit of heat it can find against the angel. he sleepily confesses. "i like your voice.."

[bloodsaltedshifting]

@ghstfacr || nightamres & sleeping meme || accepting!

“I broke the lock. You were screaming.”

no matter how many time's he's tried to save him. he keeps getting the same outcome. every door he opens and runs through? sam's dead on the other side. he's killed the fucking demon three different ways. out ran it twice. and dean just can't do it. the door opens. sam's bloodied and limp. torn apart and gone. hanging and staring down at him with vacant eyes. burnt and a shadow blazed into the fucking concrete. make that make sense! you can't! cause DEAN can't!

the more he finds him broken, bloodied and dead--the more panicked dean gets. and he can't wake up. there's no waking up and he's starting to think he's not dreaming anymore. maybe he really is awake and this is some kind of fucking hell he's ended up trapped in with no escaping.

this time the door's still bloody with his handprints. crimson that's not his own. and this time sam's standing there. neck twisted. eyes rolled white and then they fill with black. teeth gnashing together with thick black dripping through them spilling between his lips, "you did this.." he hisses. wet vitriol. laced with hisses and gutteral noises in languages that haunt him from the dark. dean screams. and then there's a bang.

round, wild eyes stare at the face that comes into view. 'i broke the lock. you were screaming.' and dean's scrambling up out of bed. half dressed and his palms brushing wildly at his face. "i..uh..yeah.. wow," one swings to cup the back of his neck and he jerks the other one towards the bed puffing out a hasty laugh. brush it off. don't let her see you sweat. literally. "spider! whew... thank god. you busted the lock--wait--you what?" he jerks an impressed brow up. anything to get that vision out of his head. ANYTHING!

[bloodsaltedshifting]

@qapsiel || nightamres & sleeping meme || accepting!

[TUCK] - for sender to find receiver’s muse asleep somewhere and tuck them in with a blanket (or jacket, etc) - he uses his trench coat 🥺

dean's curled up on the sofa of some cheap hotel room. the bed covered in research, ammunition and a mess of other junk that he was too damn exhausted to bat away once he stumbled in for the night. exhaustion made every inch of his body feel heavy enough that each step must've been taken in a pair of concrete boots. his hair was an absolute disaster. a weary body and an even warier mind. only one boot was kicked off and when the other put up too much of a fight? he let it stay on. why argue, he figured. and simply let it have it's way.

he doesn't budge at castiel's entrance. it speaks mountains about the level of safety that he feels from the angel that something internal wasn't triggered in the hunter when someone else entered. much less came close enough that the coat was fanned out and brought down over him like a blanket. dean ends up squirming underneath it. settling in. tucking his chin towards the collar and inhaling deep. his body seems to sink more into the cushions. relaxing further and more solid than he was a second ago without it. the scent lulling him into a place that, perhaps, only it can do.

though when castiel rights himself again. even takes to making a slight distance between them, he's stopped by a hand curling around his wrist. dean doesn't open his eyes. "don't go. stay," comes out groggy. whiskey scented from the swig he had on the way past the table to the sofa. the way he tugs the angel while leaning back into the back cushions says he's making enough room for the two of them to fit if they face one another.

it's a request that doesn't come easy. a trust that comes even less so. but it's here as green eyes crack open. sleep riddled and dream touched before they close again. "with me."