#and eventually after lots of shouting they get down to dean going well i love the guy hes like a brother you expect me to be okay with this
I sent 1 gift in 2022
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
See the full post
114 notes - Posted February 16, 2022
#4
Torchwood 2x01
"You left us, Jack"
"Where were you?"
132 notes - Posted March 7, 2022
#3
"So deep and down we go"
Dean Winchester | I Never Told You What I Do For A Living - My Chemical Romance
141 notes - Posted August 20, 2022
#2
S4 Cas + rainbow flowers
↳ @floral-cas‘s spring celebration March 18: garden / rainbow / magic
The second image is made up of only tulips, symbolising passion and love
306 notes - Posted March 18, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
I find it soooo funny that supernatural is all like yeah these guys are rugged, they're killers, they live on the road and consort with angels and demons! and then it's just the two most pretty boy ken doll looking adult men you've ever seen in your life
For @emeraldcas’s Creator Celebration for the prompt “I can fix this,” and @floral-cas’s Spring Floralnatural Celebration for the prompt “garden.”
Read on ao3
It starts with a few small pots on the windowsill in the kitchen. Some limp looking parsley, a ficus with only one leaf, a calathea with an infestation of mealybugs. A sad little assortment of dilapidated plants that anyone else would take one look at and consider a lost cause.
But not Cas.
Dean tries to stop him the first few times it happens. They’re out at the grocery store, or paying a visit to Sam and Eileen, or driving past a yard sale, and Cas inevitably notices a discarded or neglected plant and makes it his mission to rescue it.
“You know,” Dean says after Cas comes home one day with an extremely large cactus with suspicious black fuzz on its side. “If you want plants, we can just go to the nursery and get some new ones.”
“No. It’s okay, Dean. I can fix this,” he says, and Dean doesn’t have it in his heart to tell him otherwise.
So he lets it be.
Soon, the windowsill isn’t big enough to house the hodgepodge of foliage that has found refuge under Cas’s care. They spill onto the floor of the kitchen. They sit along the fireplace mantle and on the little table in the entryway and on the bookshelves in the library. When Dean finds a couple of wilted pothos in the shower one morning, he figures enough is enough, and spends the next few weeks digging out a patch of earth in the backyard for a greenhouse. Dean may not fully understand Cas’s green thumb, but if Cas wants a garden, Dean is at least going to give him a proper one.
Despite Dean’s skepticism, the plants begin to mend. The pothos spring back to life in a matter of days. The ficus pushes out several new leaves by the start of summer. And the cactus—which Dean was sure was a biohazard—now stands happy and healthy in a bright corner of their living room.
“I gotta say, I’m surprised,” Dean says one Saturday morning, walking into the greenhouse where Cas has already been posted up for an hour, tending to a heart leaf philodendron. It’s become a new part of their daily routine for Dean to bring Cas his morning cup of coffee this way. When they both became morning people, Dean will never know. “I didn’t think that little guy would make it to next week.”
“It just needed someone to take care of it, that’s all,” Cas says, accepting the coffee from Dean and giving him a small kiss on the cheek.
“Yeah, I guess so.” Dean looks around the packed greenhouse. “Still don’t know why you go through all this effort, though. Why not make it easier on yourself and get some healthy plants for once? Why bother with these ones?”
Cas smiles down into his coffee before looking back up at Dean. Even after all these years, that look still makes Dean’s heart to skip a beat.
“Don’t take this the wrong way but—well, they remind me of you.”
Dean looks at a shriveled up aglaonema on the shelf next to him—because apparently Dean is now a goddamn botanist and knows the names of plants and shit—and frowns.
“Gee, Cas. You sure know how to make a guy feel special.”
Cas tracks his line of sight and lets out a small chuckle. He sets down his coffee and wraps his arms around Dean’s waist. Dean doesn’t look at him, but he does let himself melt into Cas’s arms just a bit.
“That’s not what I mean, Dean,” Cas says, giving him a light squeeze. “I mean, yes, I did rescue you from hell and rebuild your body atom by atom—”
“Yeah, yeah, show off. Do you have a point?”
“Dean.” Cas’s hand is now cradling his jaw, his thumb stroking his cheek. Dean sighs at the touch, leaning into it, before meeting Cas’s eye. “You’re not the plant in this metaphor. I am.”
“What, uh—what do you mean?”
“I have been a weathered and withered plant on more than one occasion. I lost my way more times than I can remember. You could have deemed me a lost cause. You could have thrown me out. But you never did. Even at my worst, you never gave up on me. And now, I look at my life and what it’s become and—well, it’s blossomed. And that’s all because of you.
“So, yes, I see a bit of myself in these plants. But more than anything, they remind me of how you must have seen me. And if you saw all that and still brought me back from the brink of oblivion, I can surely help a few little innocent plants do the same.”
And Dean doesn’t know how Cas does it, how he makes Dean feel more worthy than he’s ever thought possible. He surely doesn’t deserve it, but he’ll spend the rest of his life trying to prove that he does.
He kisses Cas, solid and deep, because he doesn’t know what to say, and when they break apart, Dean sees tears welling up in Cas’s eyes. Dean brushes them away before they can fall.
“Thank you for saving me,” Cas finally manages to say.
“We saved each other,” Dean says, and kisses him again.