#sirlampselot

[i-exist-solely-for-fandom]

Psych as text posts (10/12)

[girlasterisk]

something something the idolization of mary winchester as a saint in her family's eyes

[tootiredmotel]

TFW 2.0 + writing things for (and on) each other

for my follower celebration! day 3: handwrite

[knifelesbianjo]

HAPPY 43rd BIRTHDAY DEAN WINCHESTER!!

Here’s to dean getting the good life he deserves ❤

(watch it on youtube)

[owl31tg]

“This is how it feels to take a fall”

[redleavesinthewind]

castiel’s guide to loving a human

for @emeraldcas‘ creator celebration! so many congrats on reaching that milestone bestie💚!

this is technically a continuation of dean winchester’s guide to grieving an angel but can be read on its own

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / full version on ao3 / dean’s guide / the home guide

prompts: emeralds and “i’m done waiting”

step 1: look into his eyes for as long as possible

Castiel doesn’t need sleep. Technically speaking he shouldn’t even be able to fall asleep in the first place, but his grace is weak enough that it is surprisingly easy to just close his eyes and drift off. He’s certainly not complaining when he wakes up the next morning and the first thing he registers is the rise and fall of Dean’s chest against his own.

Cas feels Dean’s fingers trace patterns where they’re resting on his back, so he is not surprised when he opens his eyes and sees Dean wide awake. They are still as close together as they were when they fell asleep, their noses almost touching. Cas doesn’t think there has been one moment ever since he came back from the Empty that the two of them were not entangled in each other.

When Dean realises that Cas has woken up, he smiles. There’s a glint in his eyes, making them shine like emeralds, and somehow he manages to pull Cas even closer, kissing him right on the mouth. It’s lazy and gentle and not quite as passionate as their first kiss, but Cas still revels in the knowledge that he can have this now. He can hold Dean and kiss him and tell him that he loves him and look into his eyes for hours without Dean telling him it’s weird.

“Morning sunshine.” Dean mumbles when he draws back.

“Hello Dean.” Cas greets back, and Dean’s smile brightens, his eyes lighting up even more. They don’t do much for a while, they just lie there and look into each other’s eyes, exchanging kisses from time to time. At some point their hands find each other and their fingers intertwine, Cas feels his grace—weak as it is—reach out and engulf Dean, to the point where he isn’t sure where he ends and where Dean starts. It doesn’t seem to matter at the moment.

“Cas?” Dean asks after a while.

“Hmm?” Cas is trying to connect the flecks of darker green in Dean’s eyes, creating constellations upon constellations on the light green.

“This might be… hasty, I don’t know, but… do you want to live together?” Dean sounds unsure, the green of his eyes dimming a bit.

Cas is confused. “But we already live together?”

“No, I—somewhere other than the bunker, maybe? A house? It could be nice, I don’t know.”

Cas hums again, he imagines living in a house with Dean. Having a room with windows, where the sun can shine in and wake them. Dean takes Cas’ contemplation as hesitation.

“I know it’s stupid, I’m moving too fast, we can wait.” Dean averts his eyes for the first time all morning, looking down at their hands, shifting uncomfortably. Cas frowns, then he brings his hand up to Dean’s chin and lifts it, so that they’re looking into each other’s eyes again.

“I’m done waiting. I want to start a life with you.”

And so that’s what they do.

✨taglist (ask to be added/removed)

@t4tspirk @classycoffeecat @goiwantamuffin @bookworm-789 @emeraldcas @magickastiel @hellericarus @thefantasyfiend

[racingairplanes]

SPENCER REID HEADERS

taglist - @sapphicalexblake @thejeidhater @t4tmorceid @yourfinalbow @tenelvez @hotchgan @meganskane @moreidsdaughter @bxbyjjsupremacy @raegan-reid @bus-kids @wifeyprentiss

[walksinstarllight]

okayokay so ages ago i wrote a little drabble companion fic to go along with my poem hands i. (i wasn’t sure if i was actually going to write it lol but i was given a little encouragement. which, if you’re curious, was basically:

Me: Hmm...do I write a fic for my poem? Nah, it’s fine—

God: Bet.

Me: *immediately opening Google docs* Fuck—

lol. thank you, God, for the encouragement). so yeah. anyways, enjoy:

(ao3)

.

He can’t stop staring at them.

Back from the dead (again), reunited with Sam, Dean, and now Jack (though now Jack’s taken off). And yet, at the moment, he just can’t seem to muster enough strength to get up, to tear his gaze from where he’s staring at his hands.

Was this a mistake?

No. He shuts that thought down instantly, feeling guilty for even thinking it. He was woken from the Empty for a reason. Jack, Dean, Sam, they were happy to have him back.

But why did they want you back?

His hands clench just thinking this. His thoughts are both insidious and genuine in their curiosity. Was it just because they wanted him back? Or was he needed for something?

He desperately hopes it’s the first.

Taking a deep breath to settle himself, he uncurls his fingers.

His fingers. Such a strange thought.

He doesn’t know when exactly his vessel became his body. It’s a little unnerving, he thinks. Would this not be something so groundbreaking, so memorable that he would know instantly?

This is his body now. Jimmy’s long gone; their body no longer looks the way it did back when he first possessed him.

Jimmy’s hands were smooth, pale and graceful. Always so gentle with Amelia and Claire. He can still see it: the moment Jimmy truly started to believe. One of those pale hands pressed in all the way to the bottom of a bowl filled with boiling water, not a burn to be seen.

He protected him, then. But not well enough.

Now his hands, once Jimmy’s hands, they no longer look as they did. His are tan and rough, calloused and scarred.

(Sometimes he thinks he can still feel blood on them.)

“Cas?”

His head snaps up. Dean is standing in the doorway. He’s forgotten he’d left it open when he came to sit in Jack’s room.

“You okay, man?” Dean asks.

Cas looks at him a moment, before turning his gaze back to his hands.

“I’m fine.” He says, blinking a bit, trying to shake the thoughts from his head.

There’s a beat of silence, then the light tread of footsteps as Dean comes to sit next to him on the bed.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Dean lift his hand a bit then stop, as if hesitating about something. He hears Dean take a breath, and then suddenly Dean’s hand is holding his.

Cas’s breath catches. What is Dean doing?

“Talk to me, Cas. Is this about Jack? ‘Cause don’t worry, we’ll find him.” Dean says, trying to catch his eye. Cas, ever helpless to him, raises his gaze to meet Dean’s.

“It—” he breaks off, sighing. “I was just thinking. Dean, what if...what if I’m not a good father to Jack?”

“‘Not a good—’” Dean huffs out a laugh, incredulous. “Cas, you’ve barely been back a day and this was the happiest I’ve seen him.”

The corner of his mouth ticks up in a smile, the tiniest bit of tension loosening in his chest at the thought. Dean peers at him for a moment while the silence stretches, before moving to kneel in front of him. Dean hesitates a second, then takes both of his hands in his own.

Cas twines his fingers with Dean’s immediately, warmth blooming from where their palms touch. A similar feeling blooms in his chest.

“Talk to me.” Dean says again, quieter this time.

“Dean...I ruined Claire’s life.” Dean’s eyes fall shut at this. “I ruined Jimmy’s life, Amelia’s, that entire family. I couldn’t protect them, and I can’t protect Claire now. And Kelly...she said Jack chose me. I was prepared to watch over him, be a father to him, baby or no. But what if I can’t protect him either? What if I fail him too?” He sighs.

“I’ve done so many things Dean, and failed so many others. I don’t want to fail him, too. It’s probably for the best that he's not a baby.” Cas huffs out a little self-deprecating laugh. He lifts his hands a little, Dean’s moving with his where they’re still being held. “These hands…they’ve caused so much damage, Dean. So much death.”

Dean hums at this, turning his gaze to their hands. His thumb starts to run over Cas’s knuckles.

“Yeah, you’ve done some fucked up shit, Cas.” He says lightly. “But you know what else these hands have done?” Dean glances up at him, green eyes meeting blue. Cas swallows around a suddenly dry throat, caught by the intensity of the gaze.

“What’s that?” He asks. Dean smiles gently.

“They heal.”