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@qapsiel

— WATCHING OVER ME, radio company

#you're welcome. #it's pretty. but painful. oh so ouch. #i took a heavenly ride through our silence. i knew the moment had arrived for killing the past and coming back to life. (feat. qapsiel) #ship insp; dean x cas #dean insp; mirror #🥹

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@qapsiel -- uh. mmhmm..

#can't tell me this isn't them. tbh. #oh and.. #best with headphones but great without. #just.. #pink floyd man. #ship insp; dean x cas #dean insp; music #dean insp; thread mixtape

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his first attempt at trying to capture some sense about himself melts away within seconds. watery green eyes fill with tears again as he watches cas give way into his own. relief so deep it floods him.

dean's limbs feel heavy as he cherishes each doting gesture the angel peppers him with. kisses upon kisses. ones he told himself he'd never get to feel again if he didn't get off his ASS and do something about it. ones he begged for jack to help him because he couldn't see himself living without after having them for so little time before they were stolen away. kisses upon kisses and touches upon touches. that his body has felt cold and empty without. deader than dead. hollow and gone. the feeling was something he couldn't think of bearing for the rest of his time on the planet. whether or be long or short.

it's these lips. these fingers. this body that he needs laced with his. touching his. beside him where castiel belongs. where he's always belonged. EVEN BEFORE he was sent to save him. castiel has belonged at his side. because no one else could've saved him the way cas had. no one else could reach him the way cas reached him. in hell. in heaven. in his chest. dean drags one leg up, knee bent as he turns and presses his face into the angel's chest. feels those tears falling on his cheek like rain trying to cleanse away the stain of what it felt like to SEE HIM VANISH and give himself up to save him right in front of his eyes.

initial joke aside, his smile remains even as he falls into another body jerking sob. one he doesn't hide from. or suffocate out of fear of it being seen. of him being vulnerable and open and raw-nerved in front of someone. cas gets this. cas witnesses what it was like for dean to lose him. "i wasn't gonna leave you there. it's okay. no thank yous needed. no gratitude. i just needed you back." dean doesn't make a movement. just stays in a pair of arms he doesn't want to leave.

"only a little while. but it's felt like forever." he searches cas's eyes wondering how much to tell him. how much might be TOO much at first. "chuck... that fucker's gone. he--uh," time--he'll tell him all the details in time, "he's not around anymore. jack? jack.. saved everyone. me. sam. everyone. we killed chuck. jack's.." he blows out a breath clenching onto cas harder. "jack took over his place. booted him and his power over us? over it all? right into oblivion. where it belongs."

                                  THE LIGHT IS GONE, AND SO IS JACK. The cut on Dean's palm is cured, which means Dean must be okay. Jack healed him, saved him; surely there wasn't any lasting damage. That's what Castiel tells himself over and over as he waits for Dean to wake up, shaking fingers patting his cheek, trembling voice repeating his name. The hard floor hurts his knees, and coldness seeps into his very human bones, but he doesn't care. All that matters right now is Dean.

                                Then, at last, he stirs. Relief as pure and bright as sunshine trickles into Castiel's heart as Dean reaches for his wrist and opens his eyes. Only to start weeping not a second later. "No, no, why are you crying," Castiel frantically mutters before he's gripped in a deadlock that nearly hurts his ribs, and then he understands: That's Dean's relief talking. His emotions are overflowing, bubbling, and for once, he doesn't care what it looks like: he simply lets it go. Castiel shudders, then wraps his arms around Dean, pressing his nose into the spiky hair above his ear. He breathes deeply, every inhale trembling and wet until he can't keep the tears from falling anymore. They roll in big drops down his cheeks and trickle off in Dean's shirt.

                                 He's back. This is the dungeon, the bunker, this is planet Earth with all its trees and insects and Castiel's favorite humans. The Empty is gone, hopefully forever, and Castiel is — saved. "Yes. Yes, it worked," he assures Dean with a wet smile, smoothing his hands through Dean's hair, cupping his cheek, just touching him all over because that's something the Empty has never been able to fake: the warmth of skin, the stubble on a cheek, the silky smoothness of the longer hair on top of Dean's head. Everything has been the same in the vast darkness, but here, not one thing feels like the other. He's safe.

                               "Thank you, Dean, I — thank you," he whispers, ignoring the tears on his cheeks as he leans in and kisses Dean — no finesse, just the desperate, overjoyed press of lips on lips. "I love you too, I love you, more than anything–" Then he kisses him again and again before he pulls him into a crushing hug, eyes squeezed shut for a moment against the onslaught of emotions. Then another thought worms its way to the forefront of his mind, and he pulls back to look Dean in the eye again. "What about Chuck? How long has it been since I — and what happened to Jack? Why is he so powerful?"

#featuring: castiel (qapsiel) #qapsiel #i'm ok. #lay your weary head to rest. (chapter i)

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@stanfordprepped || meme continuation || from here.

"looks like something out of a diaper. smells like something out of a bean patch ground up with something else even stinkier than the first. no thanks," dean murmurs without looking back to trace sam's movements through the room. just gives a full body shudder and makes one hell of a gagging noise/face to accompany and THUS DRIVE HOME his freaking point. damn hippy food. freaking GROSS.

"yeah. s'what happens when most of your night is spent awake. then sleep sorta gave you the middle finger a couple hours in. figured i'd go across the street and grab us some food while the grabbin' was good." he ticks a glance over his shoulder, up at sam and gives him a roll of his shoulders. "once we get through this whole thing? i'll catch up. so don't even say it."

#featuring: sam winchester (stanfordprepped) #:D #stanfordprepped #don't you cry no more. (chapter ii)

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@snnynatural || a meme continuation || from here.

dean still has the goofiest little grin on his mouth when sonny comes swaggering up like a potentially deadly lady john wayne. only he doesn't see it coming. a rattlesnake. ready to strike? a bigger grin meets her head tilt and smile then eyes jerk open wide A SPLIT SECOND before his windpipe's damn near crushed! dean doubles over, grabs his throat and starts wheezing for breath.

"fuck! shit!" sounds all garbled and strained between coughs. "that's not so spicy.." one hand swings up, pointer finger jutting into the air to give him a minute as he gags on a few more breaths and swallows in air trying to make up for what was just knocked outta his ass. "asshole!"

#MA'AM!!! YOU ARE RUDE! SPICY RUDE! #so spicy. #featuring: sonny munroe (snnynatural) #snnynatural #don't you cry no more. (chapter ii)

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#the post in question where dean ends up on the side of an ice cream cone! #thanks a lot habanero pepperika. #without u? #where would he be? #ooc; saved #featuring: sonny munroe (snnynatural)

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// better than being on a milk carton!! which coulda happened so many times, john. amirite?!?!?! 😂😂😂😉🥺🥹😭

ever wonder why your son's face is on an ice cream cone? so does john.

#i died seeing this! i had to keep it. #omfg. #BLESS #ooc; one from the salt circle

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As long as they’re smiling…

                                  I kinda don’t care.

                                              That’s good enough for me.

#demon dean insp; musings #family insp; team free will

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MAKE ME CHOOSE: anon asked shirtless dean or shirtless dean

#dean showing some skin for sunday #ur welcome #i’m welcome too! #dean insp; musings

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14.14 Ouroboros

#putting this on this blog too #if for only the sheer and #absolute look of betrayal on cas's face. #LOL!! look. #SORRY CAS #u are the nerd. but yes. dean did fall for u. #so.. idk. match made in heaven/hell/kinda both. #lbr. #featuring: castiel (qapsiel) #ship insp; dean x cas #dean insp; mirror

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@murderdeals -- it's true. you're on my healthcare plan.

Do not blame me for who I am. The doctor prescribed me 20 mL of #murderdeals twice a day.

#i don't make the rules. #ooc; one from the salt circle

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those memories may be their own form of torture. ones that rise and fall in his mind's eye like the waves of a tide. coming in so slow. so subtle that it's hard to notice at first. but then? so much gets swallowed up by it that you're left flailing your arms as you drown--waiting--waiting for someone to throw you a lifeline before you sink under the surface once and for all. only? just like the same tide. they roll back. leaving you gasping for air and gulping in one breath after another until the sun warms your skin and brightens the world around you leaving you in safety. contentment. as if you hadn't nearly swallowed your last breath. choked out and drug to your demise by its unforgiving hands.

and yet? he would want to keep them. dean would never chance anything to remove what he saw there. what he did there from his memory. those images that haunt him serve a purpose. a reminder. that the darkness is what he was pulled from. what one being, the very being he has buried himself against, was willing to suffer through and risk everything for the second his fingers touched dean's soul. they serve a purpose. even if they claw at the insides of his brain, his throat, his core mercilessly at times. that same being is the one that chases even those moments away. simply by existing and by keeping him. without question. in spite of his mistakes. in spite of his ability to keenly fuck up and fuck up HORRIBLY. in spite of HIMSELF.

no, he wouldn't trade remembering that place for a more peaceful mind. because he'd lose a piece of himself. and, in it, perhaps even a piece of HIM. dean's fingers form a fist, balling up the cloth of cas's shirt at the small of the angel's back. his opposite hand is pressed flat against cas's chest. arm bent between them. he can't get any closer.

"holding you to that," he murmurs as he starts to melt into the touch. "nah. i don't care." dean pauses for a moment as if that statement just caught up to him. he..truly..doesn't care if sam sees. let him see. he knows anyway. one look in his brother's eyes and dean knew he knew the very next morning after their first time. they just..haven't talked about it yet. and dean.. well dean's dean and he's discovering a lot about himself and that takes patience, time. effort. "let me sleep til i wake up.. it's okay."

                        HE THINKS HE SAID THE WRONG THING WHEN HE NOTICES THE SHINE IN DEAN'S EYES. Those are tears threatening to fall. Usually, tears are bad; they are a sign that you're sad or hurt or desperate. Castiel remembers his surprise when he found tears on his own face back when he was human — when everything had been too much one evening after three different customers had yelled at him at the Gas'n'Sip and he'd just violently missed his family, his home, and knew he could neither go back to heaven nor was welcome at the bunker. That had been despair, sadness, and pain all mixed into one. Of course, there are also good tears — like those parents shed when they're finally able to hold their newborn baby after a stressful birth. 

                             Dean, though, has no visible injury and should not be desperate because for once, the world isn't ending, and his brother is safe and sound sleeping a couple of yards away. There are also no joys of fatherhood. So why are there tears?

                             Maybe it's the memory of Hell, Castiel thinks as Dean wiggles down a little and then, impossibly, even closer, his face mushed into the collar of Castiel's button-down. He pulled Dean off the rack — he knew what it was like there, the pain and the agony and the screams of the tortured souls amidst the stench of sulfur and despair. Of course, his mission was only to save Dean Winchester from Hell, and he never spared any thought to what that experience would do to the man, but he knows now that memories can be worse than the actual situation. He wishes he had taken the time to scrub Dean's brain free of those memories, too.

                                "I'm here to remind you whenever you need me to," he promises as he starts to gingerly rub Dean's back because he saw a mother soothe her child like that once and hopes it will help now, too. "Now try to sleep, Dean, or you'll be grumpy the whole morning. Do you want me to wake you before Sam gets up?"

#featuring: castiel (qapsiel) #qapsiel #DAWUH #lay your weary head to rest. (chapter i)

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@ruinedmyself -- since you been spamming me with winchester bros art all day. i'm gonna come back swinging with this. i love how in these gifs, all but the one you can't really see 'em.. they are always angled towards one another and/or are close to each other. even in sleep. they just naturally seek each other out and it hits me in the feelings where it COUNTS, man. on the edge of the bed closest to either one's side. or close in a way by proximity. or both. because that's just how they sleep. how they orbit in one another's gravity because for so long? each other is all they had. and that just never goes away. THESE FREAKING ASSHOLES MAN. 🥺🥹😭

SPN Parallels: Sleeping!chesters

#featuring: sam winchester (ruinedmyself) #hey brother? there's an endless world to rediscover. what if i'm far from home? oh brother i will hear you call. (sam winchester) #oh if the sky comes falling down for you. there's nothing in this world i wouldn't do. (feat. ruinedmyself) #ruinedmyself #dean insp; mirror

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50% #omg., 49% #(crack.), 1% dumbass.

#oh look. #it's dean and ME #that's us. #dean insp; musings #ooc; one from the salt circle

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𝗝𝗨𝗟𝗜𝗔𝗡𝗡𝗔 𝗪𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗕𝗥𝗢𝗢𝗞 𝗪𝗜𝗡𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗖𝗔𝗠𝗘𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗟 : 20 / ∞ a series of photos taken by dean winchester ( @bloodsalted )

— 𝙢𝙪𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙡𝙨 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 / 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨 —

#how freaking cute??!!?! #i love love love the first one! #dawwuh. #featuring: julianna winchester (ghstfacr) #under the neon lights. i think we might get married in vegas. (chapter viii)

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dean simply grins in response to crowley's taunt and sore misjudgment of his dancing skills. a roll of his shoulders and he steps back to let the demon make his next move. green eyes narrow in concentration as he calculates any possible shots he might have. a suppressed inward groan gets swallowed down with a finished off beer. one he's craning his neck to spot the waitress to motion for so he can refill. when he does catch her eye, he gives her a press of his fingers together plea for help. she smiles and acknowledges him--then his attention bounces back to present company.

"think i was able to get away with half the women i've met in bars like this without being able to dance a few steps? c'mon, man. give me more credit." a small blink when crowley only sinks one of the two balls he's aimed at. is he messing with him? that's gonna be a costly mistake if he is. least in dean's mind. their waitress approaches. he orders another round and a shot of whiskey for himself. make it a double. and she's off!

"oh but i do test. pop quiz style even," he wriggles his eyebrows still trying to gauge if he's being toyed with. doesn't matter. he's got an excellent shot and crowley's only one ball ahead. "least you agreed to dance with me. it's a start." dean licks his lips and bends at the waist. cue between his fingers, one ball knocks off crowley's sending it to align against the edge. while it bounces over and hits yet another one his own sending BOTH into the corner pocket. their waitress returns with drinks. dean circles around the table and plucks up the shot before tipping it towards the demon with a wicked as hell wink. one that costs him perhaps out of sheer punishment for being so damn COCKY. cause now that he's one ball ahead? both simply have one of their own and the 8 ball left. AND HE MISSES HIS SHOT!

"shit," he murmurs under his breath.

Dean develops a talent for making deflection a form of art. Crowley huffs an audibly mischievous laugh at that wine retort, one that remains trapped behind shut lips. " If that box is you~ ? " He pauses, twirling the billard cue once after setting his cocktail back onto its spot. Attention in no moment leaving Dean's calculated motions. " Sensitive as one. A match, methinks. " That Crowley isn't exactly looking at his bestie doesn't prevent the more than skeptical arch of a solitary brow, solely in response to Dean's horrible perception of his own singing skills. " Sure. You were plastered like twenty pirates. Might've granted you an extra reality warping experience. I'll give you that. "

An even result thanked to the hunter's one-ball-shot! Dandy! Crowley neither can nor will suppress what triumphant little smirk creeps across his face— then it's his turn to estimate his next move. From where he stands now. No seductive, hip-swaying sexy walk á la squirrel to show off. What was that about reality warp? Seems like the king himself isn't exempt. That guy's hips are as stiff as wood; brings Crowley's train of thought right back to the box comparison. He doesn't voice it. His impulses challenged by Dean's teasing in regards to his dancing talent, the demon lets his mouth fall slightly agape in mock-offense. Before snapping it shut for about a second or two.

" Excuse you. The Wednesday Addams dance is iconic! True art. I mean what'd be your pick? Macarena, I bet. " Thanks, own mind, now he pictures the whole gang, Huey aka Castiel, Dewey aka Sam and Louie aka Dean doing that. Crowley meanwhile determined his next shot, rounds the pool table's nearby corner and positions his cue; squints at the targeted balls. Aiming for a double victory. " Either way, I will waltz you all the way up there, sunshine. Don't test me. " Maybe losing this game won't be too bad after all. But it's about principle. Crowley could utilize a wee trick here— ah, not yet at least. Which lands him one of two balls in the hole. Great... not.

#featuring: crowley (murderdeals) #murderdeals #don't you cry no more. (chapter ii)

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#dean insp; musings