#the-presentation-ninja

[mishasprincess]

the-presentation-ninja replied to your post:Do you have a spn otp? If so, what is it? ( you seem cool)

Definitely destiel. Argh how can they be so canon without being canon?!

yeah! the writers are seriously just playing with our feelings

[mishasprincess]

Do you have a spn otp? If so, what is it? ( you seem cool)

ayy thanks, u too! my all-time favorite otp must be Destiel i think, u?

[imortaldean]

I really like 5 and 6, but your current URL is super awesome too!

okay you post meta and like majorly long texts posts i am in love that's so rare it's like finding a unicorn in the wild. also your icon is fantastic but then it's on your blog but bigger and it's moving and that makes it a hundred times better (which is saying something because it's Dean in a crown so how much better can it get really without defying the laws of the universe or something) 

send me a number for a ridiculously enthusiastic blog compliment!

do these now, i'm so excited they're verging on the insane

[imortaldean]

Destiel for the-presentation-ninja

Castiel is downstairs in the kitchen, desperately trying to drown out the screeching cries of their brand new baby son, James. He is also desperately trying not to panic as he sterilises and re-sterilises the baby bottles they bought. He prepares the formula – but only once he’s read the instructions and guidelines at least five times – and ends up making a mess anyway. His hands are shaking too badly and the formula spills all over the countertop.

He chides himself under his breath, knowing that it is ridiculous to be so petrified of a tiny, defenceless human baby when he once called himself King of Heaven.

After several attempts, he feels he has produced an adequate solution of baby formula. He tests the temperature on the back of his hand, as the childcare books had advised. James is still screaming with all the strength in his lungs as Castiel begins to climb the stairs. When he gets half-way up, however, the crying stops as suddenly as it had begun a few hours ago. The panic that he had barely been supressing rises in full force, constricting his lungs and gripping his heart. He races up the last few steps, taking them two at a time, and barrels into the baby’s room.

“What –“ he begins, but Dean shushes him immediately. He’s cradling James in his arms; the very same arms which have throttled monsters now seem unutterably gentle as they encircle their tiny pink burden. Dean bounces softly on the balls of his feet and resumes his song.

Cas moves closer to the pair until he can slip his arm around Dean’s waist and together they stare down in total awe at the tiny life they’re now solely responsible for. Cas touches a finger to his son’s miniature hand and finds his finger is instantaneously held prisoner in the baby’s vice-like grip. He smiles up at his husband. In that moment, looking at his little family, Castiel feels as though his heart might burst with joy and pride.

Dean is still singing, although James’ eyes have finally closed and the grip on Cas’ finger has loosened. Here and there, Cas can make out a few words of the song that rumbles deep in Dean’s chest as he rests his head on the hunter’s shoulder.

The two new parents stand around their son, watching his chest rise and fall with each sleeping breath he takes, as Dean hums Hey Jude.