Spn fan: queer people exist and a few of my kids are queer actually—
J*red: yOU sayin’ I wanna KISS my SON?!?!??!??
hello vonnie
Mike Driver

Kiana Khansmith
art blog(derogatory)
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noise dept.
dirt enthusiast
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
tumblr dot com
will byers stan first human second
YOU ARE THE REASON
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
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izzy's playlists!

Discoholic 🪩
todays bird
Sade Olutola
we're not kids anymore.
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@domeyebrowcastiel
Spn fan: queer people exist and a few of my kids are queer actually—
J*red: yOU sayin’ I wanna KISS my SON?!?!??!??
@myaimistrue content celebration <3 ⤷ comfort ✗ deancas hugs
Party city girls buy cheap wigs also
Ribbed for your pleasure
jaw fucking drop everybody look at this tiktok
it's been half a decade AND I STILL CAN'T MOVE ON
castiel + unintentionally being the funniest character ever
Some people out here still acting like they don't know what rainclouds and sunshine make smh.
🌈🌈🌈
(prompt: boy, howdy!)
he’s literally made of shapes
I love old men retired yaoi
☀️Pond Giant☀️
The world was quiet here. Not the silence of danger, not the breathless pause before a hunt, but something gentler. Still. Like the universe had finally remembered how to breathe.
Behind him, carved into the face of a moss-covered cliff, was the massive stone visage of an Angel. The features were weathered but unmistakable, eyes staring into nothing, or seeing all too much. Dean was not aware of it yet. Or maybe he had and just didn’t want to look.
He squinted at the water instead, watching a dragonfly skate across it. There was something almost holy about evenings like this. Like time folded in on itself and let him pretend he wasn’t carrying a war on his shoulders.
"I wish you were here," he murmured.
The breeze caught the words and took them across the pond. Dean rubbed his thumb over the handle of his fishing pole, jaw tight. He hadn’t said Cas’s name in weeks. Not out loud. Not since -
He cleared his throat.
Fishing helped. It slowed things down. Gave his hands something to do while his mind wandered. Let him believe, just for a moment, that there was something better coming. Something quieter. A future, maybe.
The pole jerked slightly. He reeled in, but it was just a snag. Nothing on the other end. Still, he smiled faintly.
Above him, the giant stone face of the Angel remained still, but in the sunlight, the moss seemed to shimmer like grace itself.
Dean cast the line again and leaned back on his elbows, eyes half-closed.
"I’ll wait," he said into the warm breeze.
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⋆。゚☁︎。⋆ sleepyhead ⋆。☁︎ 。゚⋆
Cas taking off his trench coat and laying it over Dean to keep him warm while he sleeps do you understand? Am I being understood?
Little vignettes of TrueForm Cas putzing around the Bunker, which follow this post.
(Please don't repost, but reblogs are awesome!)
_________________
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first contribution to the supernatural fandom in years