I love ppl who claim to think that spn never depicted eve, despite depicting adam. like do hot evil women mean nothing to you???
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The only thing that’ll overtake nov 5th 2020 is if destiel actually fucks onscreen until then you’ll never be November 5th 2020 you stupid slut !
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my problem basically is that i unironically loooove jack in the box
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wait this is so sad 😭😭 HE WANTED TO GO
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dean and cas wear yarmulkes at their wedding and smash glasses btw
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you're the woman in the fridge and most of the time you're not sure you're really there at all
for the last day @spnwomenweek - free space
tw derealization, blood, death, abuse
ps: take a look at my spn zine
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new bfkake in the next couple of hours 😈
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i think dean’s ribs have all the wrathful angel poetry schtick about protection and safe harbor and may the angel castiel’s vengeance rain down upon you as eternal hellfire if you do not heed his warnings and i think sam’s ribs say ibid.
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Indulgence
Dean and Cas discuss celebrating Hanukkah. They reflect on their relationship, their shortcomings, and their growth. They laugh, they cry. They have a tickle fight. 2k. Rated T. Feel free to ask me any questions about Jewish stuff in this fic!
What’s really crazy - what’s always made Dean weak in the knees, head over heels, just batshit - is that sometimes, Cas will stare like he sees you.
“I do see you.”
Damn green-blooded Vulcan.
“My blood is red.”
My thoughts are really pressin’ up against yours, huh bud? Well, listen here pal, I’ll give you somethin’ to press against…You should tear off my chonies and make a man out of me.
“I’d hate to ruin these underwear. They’re silk. And they have little drawings of martinis on them.”
And my ass looks fantastic in them.
“Your buttocks are highly attractive in any garment. But I am biased. You are also biased. I say this with love, but Dean, your ass leaves something to be desired.”
Yeah, your hog. Put a baby in me, man.
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fallen cas study u are so important to me
Cas sits quietly in the exam room by himself while a tired doctor cleans the wound and stitches it together, mangling his lifeline. The doctor talks about nerve damage when Dean is allowed to join him, and Cas lets his hand lay uselessly in his lap.
Dean is agitated when he drives them home. Cas has not yet figured out how to fall asleep without the embrace of exhaustion, and he collapses onto his sleeping bag on the floor and surrenders to the oblivion for a while. Dean hides elsewhere in his construction for the next few days, silently fuming, while Cas pokes at his fingers and tries to understand the somatic elements of pain. Pain is difficult, for him. He can never tell the difference between their various nuances. A burn feels the same as a paper cut as a concussion.
Dean hammers a plastic mezuzah onto the front doorjamb. Holiness bleeds into the house, shying away from Cas as if they are like poles of two magnets.
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what if i just do endless screengrab redraws of cas being a dad. what then
(click for quality bcos ms tumblr ate her up)
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