A little bit cockles, a little bit destiel, a whole lot of whatever makes my soul tingle (or anything else for that matter) occasionally 18+ and nsfw cause I'm an adult and I can
Magnus looks through the bookshelf, excitement thrumming just under his skin. A smile is permanently fixed to his lips. He glances to his right, butterflies tickling his belly as he watches Alec going through his end of the day routine.
Alec had invited him up to his apartment for dinner tonight. There was a glint in his eyes when he’d asked and Magnus can’t help but wonder if they’ll be doing more than just eating. Maybe they’ll be having something extra special for dessert.
Magnus runs his hands over his red coat, his red polished nails shining as they move down. As excited as he is, he’s also nervous. This will be their first time diving into the more physical side of their relationship. Magnus has dated plenty in the past, but this thing with Alec? It’s different, special. Magnus doesn’t wanna ruin it.
“Hey,” Alec murmurs, making Magnus jump in surprise, too stuck in his head to notice Alec’s approach. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Just wanted to let you know I’ve locked up.”
“Then lead the way, darling,” Magnus says with a wide smile, gesturing towards the back of the bookstore. They walk, hand in hand, their shoulders bumping as they go. Once inside the stairwell that leads to Alec’s apartment, Magnus loses his breath as his back hits the wall.
Alec’s mouth descends onto his, shoving his tongue past Magnus’ lips. Magnus moans into the kiss, his hands coming up to grip Alec’s shoulders. All the worries on the day fade away as they kiss, completely in sync.
“Shit,” Alec whispers when they finally pull back. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” he confesses with a wide smile. “I hope you don’t mind, but uh, I didn’t actually have any plans to cook tonight.”
Magnus feels his cheeks warm, his stomach doing that funny little flip it only does for Alec. “I think we can figure something out, Alexander,” Magnus says before kissing Alec’s lips again. “Turns out, I’m quite hungry for something else entirely.”
With a giddy laugh, Alec runs up the stairs and Magnus is right on his tail.
(I wouldn’t usually post pics from others like this but this is a really good infographic. I have also messaged them on instagram and suggested they make an ADHD infographic account, which I’d share. It’s just really good and I hope they make more.)
Really though, what was that about? I don’t know is a valid answer. It communicates very clearly that the child cannot answer your question, and therefore maybe needs more help understanding the question/situation. Why do you try and push them to give an answer they don’t have? That stresses them out and it makes them feel like they’re being punished for not knowing something.
i thought i was the only one with an “i don’t know” problem because my parents made it seem it was the strangest and also most horrible thing in the world. i genuinely didn’t know and they got angry and that only blocked my thoughts more which meant i didn’t know the answer to anything else.
Also “I don’t know” is a commonly used sentence for children with ADHD/Autism. We DON’T know why we can’t do our homework. We DON’T know why we can’t eat certain foods sometimes. We DON’T know why we forgot to do a chore. It’s really distressing when you genuinely don’t know and people think you’re just lying or indifferent
Hey, ummmm..... could we get destiel with “H-how long have you been standing there?”
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set in a nebulous s5 where Sam has conveniently gone out for drinks. a little nsfw-ish underneath the cut
Dean Winchester’s life doesn’t leave him much room for privacy. The majority of his time is spent in a car which, while roomy compared to most other cars, is still a car when all is said and done. He’s been attached at the hip to his brother for five years now (barring his 40 year Hell vacation, and the less said about that, the better). The motels he frequents have walls thin enough to be classified technically as curtains.
So whenever Dean gets the opportunity for privacy, he snatches it with open arms.
Sam begs off that night, saying that he’s going somewhere quiet to research, but there’s a pinched look around the corners of his eyes which means he’s lying. Dean thinks it’s more likely that he’s heading back to the diner to hook up with the cute waitress from lunch. Well, mazel tov, Sammy. Dean’s left with the opportunity to spend the night as he pleases, and that’s not a bad thing.
(It is undoubtedly a bad thing, but it certainly doesn’t stop him.)
Dean takes a shower. Without Sam banging on the door and whining at him to hurry up, it’s a leisurely affair. He can almost fool himself into thinking that the warm bordering on tepid water is scalding hot and that the motel towels are plush and comfortable.
He walks back into the room gloriously naked. His nipples pebble in protest at the chill air, but the anticipation warms him enough to keep him comfortable. He can taste it on the tip of his tongue, the potential ripe in the air. As he unzips his duffel bag and starts to paw through the carefully arranged layers, he notices the small shake of his hands. Fuck, but he wants this.
Dean’s fingers brush against smooth satin, and he pauses before unearthing his treasure.
He lays the panties out against the comforter, allowing himself a moment to splendor in them. Against the dark paisley of the motel comforter, the soft pink color stands out, along with the soft white lace ringing the waist and leg holes. Tiny bows circle the waistband, delicate and delightful. The panties are large, the elastic at the thighs slightly stretched from use. He’s held onto this pair for years, kept them carefully tucked away in an old flannel shirt that he never wears. They’ve been kept a secret from Dad and Sam (if Sam came across them while Dean was in Hell, then he’s never said anything). They’re his naughty hobby, his filthy habit, his little kink that he just can’t manage to kick. It’s only in the increasingly rare moments of solitude that he can indulge himself.
Tiny shivers chase across Dean’s body as he takes the panties in hand and bends over. There’s something deliciously vulnerable about the curve of his spine as he lifts first one foot, then the other. The fine hairs on his calves and thighs stand in salute as the satin fabric sweeps over them, almost like they’re craving the touch as badly as Dean himself. He drags the panties up to his crotch, adjusting the fit of them over his interested cock. By the time he tweaks the elastic around his hips, the shivers have increased, shaking through his body, down to his tingling fingertips. When he looks at himself in the mirror, he already looks wrecked, his eyes wide and pupils blown, his lips pink and swollen from having bitten them. A pink flush spreads across his skin, just a few shades darker than the panties.
Dean closes his eyes and thumbs over the lace. The callouses on his thumb catch on the delicate fabric, and he has to remind himself to take this slow and savor it. Sam won’t be back for a few hours at most; if both Winchesters get lucky, then they might stretch that to the whole night. He has time to explore and reacquaint himself with this territory.
He traces his fingers over the swiftly growing bulge in the panties before rubbing the fabric against his skin. Electricity jolts through his veins at the smooth friction, and, almost against his will, a tiny moan falls from his lips.
Dean opens his eyes, ready to watch himself come undone, and looks into two dizzying pools of blue.
He falls backwards with a shout, luckily landing on the bed behind him. His legs are parted in an ungainly sprawl, and he regains enough presence of mind to snap his knees shut, hiding the worst of himself. He curls protectively over his crotch, but at least retains enough dignity not to pull the blankets over his lap as he looks at Castiel.
“H-how long have you been standing there?”
Despite his anger, the question still comes out stuttered. Dean silently curses as heat, unrelated to arousal, floods his cheeks. Castiel tilts his head, blinking, while he considers the question.
“Not long,” he answers, in that low smoke and whiskey voice that never ceases to make a slow curl of interest crowd in the pit of Dean’s belly. Too wide blue eyes flick down towards Dean’s lap. “Long enough.”
Dean’s dick, traitor that it is, twitches. Dean curls his fingers into fists and thinks of all the grossest things in the world to make his half-chub go away, but underneath Castiel’s watchful gaze, it’s useless.
Castiel, meanwhile, stands at the foot of the bed. He either looks supremely uncomfortable or entirely at ease. It’s hard to tell the difference. Either way, the sense of other still hangs on him, tied to his eyes, his hair, his hands, and the coat he wears like armor. Even though he’s become closer and more familiar, Dean can’t ever erase the sense of not human not human that screams at him whenever he looks at Castiel. Something about the way Cas moves, or turns his head, or stares, reminds Dean that he’s looking at an ageless being shifting underneath a human skin.
The thought should be a little more disquieting than it is.
“I thought I would find Sam here,” Cas says, craning his head to look past Dean, as though he thinks Sam might be hiding behind the bed.
“Sam’s out for the night,” Dean says, a little shortly, because, well hell. It’s not like he really wants to talk about the pink satin elephant in the room, but it’s a little insulting that Cas just seemed to skip right over it. “You think I’d walk around like this if he was here?”
Cas’ eyes travel over Dean’s form, slower than before. “Your undergarments?” he finally asks, and fuck, that shouldn’t be as sexy as it sounds. “I did notice that they were different than your usual, but you seemed embarrassed by them, so I didn’t mention it.”
Oh. Cas wasn’t oblivious, he was just being...tactful.
For a wild moment, Dean wonders if he’s talking with a shapeshifter, but then Cas looks at him, and he immediately dismisses the thought. No shapeshifter could have eyes that fathomless.
It’s not like Dean hasn’t thought about it. He’s thought about Castiel, maybe more than he should have, considering that Castiel is an Angel of the Lord, and he’s a high school dropout with $6, a handful of stolen credit cards, and one (probably) expired condom in his wallet. But even though Castiel is of the stuff that grubby little grasping gremlins like Dean can only dream of, Dean’s dreamt. He’s wondered how those chapped lips would feel against his, how those huge hands would span acres of his skin, how Cas’ stubble would scrape against his thighs, how he could bury his fingers in Cas’ hair. He’s thought, in his wildest and most unhinged moments, of how Cas would react to him in the sight of his panties, laid out before him like a feast.
Judging by the wild look in Cas’ eyes, if he hasn’t thought about it before, he sure as hell is thinking about it now.
Cas stalks forward. He moves like a tornado tearing through the Kansas plains. He moves like the ocean, which would make the Dean the moon, caught in his relentless tide. Or is the other way around? He doesn’t know, and he can’t muster the wherewithal to really ask, not when Cas is dropping to his knees in front of him, thumbs pressing gently against the knobs of Dean’s knees.
“Show me,” Castiel asks, and Dean could no more refuse him than he could refuse the tug of the waves. He parts his legs, revealing all of himself to Cas’ stormy blue gaze, and lets himself slip under.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Dean had his head inside a robot, checking on a loose wire, when the bell tinkled on his front door, signaling someone had come into the shop. He yelled that he’d be right there.
Benny’s voice answered, “It’s just me, Cher. Wait till you see what I found at the dump.”
Dean looked up. Benny had a nude man slung over his shoulder.
“You found a naked dead guy?”
Benny laughed as he put the body down on the floor. “Nah, it’s an android of some kind. He was lying on top of a pile of garbage.”
Dean walked over to take a look. “Dude, it’s not an android. It’s a fucking cyborg! What the hell?”
He looked over the cyborg. Its face was like something out of one of Dean’s wet dreams. As Dean let his eyes roam over the cyborg’s body, Benny smiled.
“He’s real pretty, ain’t he.”
Dean looked at Benny. “He’s a machine, nothing else.”
Benny grinned, “Just keep telling yourself that, chief.”
my offering for the CocklesDestiel Fiction Crossover Challenge
Rating explicit
Based on the TV show Queer As Folk US version
Excerpt: The three men began to pile into Cas’ jeep. Cas looked around.His eyes locked with a beautiful twink leaning against a pole. The twink looked at him and smiled.
He walked to the kid, ignoring Aaron’s “Hey! Where are you going?”
He stepped close. “What is your name?”“Dean.”
“You want to come home with me?”
Dean’s eyes got huge. “Sure!”
Dean followed Cas back to the jeep. When Cas got there, there was one man inside and two men standing by it.
“Get out, Aaron.”Aaron’s mouth fell open, but he got out. Dean got in the passenger’s seat while Cas got behind the wheel.
“You just going to leave us here?” Aaron was obviously irritated. As Cas drove away, he yelled, “Find another way home.”
okay so i’m still not over 12x12 and the “i love you” scene and frankly idk how people can read it as platonic at this point. i mean if this were say a book or a fanfic even, the way it was directed would be written as ‘i love you,’ cas looked to dean. ‘i love all of you,’ he turned to mary and sam.’ it pretty much explicitly confirmed destiel, if not that then merely that cas is in love with dean thank you for coming to my ted talk
laughing_mule07: On the eve of starting work on a new TV series, I’ve been trying to find the words to sum up my 15 seasons on @cw_supernatural but as @jaredpadalecki said to me, how do you briefly summarize such an amazing experience and such important relationships? You can’t. He and @jensenackles @misha and so many of the cast and crew are forever family, friends and inspirations. I carry them all in my heart no matter where life takes us from here. I cherish this once in a lifetime experience and I am honoured to have been a part of the Costume dept on 326 episodes of groundbreaking television. Thank you.❤️ And cheers!🥂#spn #spnfamily #fifteenthandfinal #gratefulthankfulblessed 🙏🏻#notgoodbye😿 #thisishowweroll 🤗
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