#deansmypizzaman

[youreyesarelikestarlightnow]

Happy Halloween lovelies!

Some TNBC!Destiel, with Halloween Town ghoul!Dean and Christmas Town angel!Cas.

Inspired by this piece of fanart that I kinda hyperventilated over when I saw it

Dean creeps through the forest at the edge of the cemetery, adjusting the spider hanging on his collar and pulling his torn up vest closer around his body against the ever-present chill in the land. The hairs prickle on the back of his neck and he shivers delightedly, as any ghoul rightfully should.

He sneaks along expertly, double and triple checking over his shoulder to make sure he's not being followed. He knows the path now easily, having simply used it so many times, but the doorways are still technically forbidden to Halloween Town's regular citizens. The trees start to thin after a long while, the sky lightening and the air growing warmer

A circle of trees greet him, each one carved and painted with a different emblem. Dean smiles in anticipation as he approaches the familiar green tree and grasps the shiny gold door knob.

A swirl of white flakes rises from the unfathomable depths of the tree. Dean takes a deep breath and allows them to pull him in.

He opens his eyes to a flurry of white above him. The snow, now rapidly melting through his clothes, is actually a comfortable presence, if a little freezing. He quickly orients himself right side up and turns to peer over the hill he's landed on. Below him sparkles the bright cheery lights of Christmas Town.

Even after all his time spent here, Christmas Town is still strange and foreign to him. To be honest, he doesn't actually like it too much. The constant cheeriness and sappiness of its citizens is near sickening, and not in the way Dean can appreciate. Warmth radiates throughout and envelopes the entire land despite the endless blanket of snow and it makes him itch horribly beneath his clothes.

But even Christmas Town, with all its downright weird jolliness, is not without its perks.

For example, pie. Dean had never had pastries before visiting Christmas Town, simply because baked goods weren't a type of delicacy offered in Halloween Town. He can smell them now, the sweet scent of fruit and fresh crust wafting in the air. He wants to take one from the open window of the bakery, but he promised Cas the last time he was here he wouldn't do that anymore.

And Cas. Dean smiles a little at the thought of him, an upward turn of lips that looks far more menacing than it really is.

His feet leave deep tracks in the fluffy snow beneath him as he trails his way through Christmas Town. The streets are recognizable to him now, and he knows which shadowed alleys to lurk by in order to sneak around undetected. He watches for a minute as the funny little elves set about preparing for Christmas, stringing lights up around the buildings and carrying boxes of supplies toward the giant workshop in the heart of the town.  He feels a strong urge to scare them horribly, to listen to their high-pitched screams echo from their mouths, but he told Cas he wouldn't do that either.

He lopes from shadow to shadow, sneaking around the edges of buildings, jumping onto balconies. It takes him a while to get to his destination, but Dean's always been well-versed in patience, knowing the scare is that much better when drawn out.

He finally reaches one of the tallest buildings in town, a statuesque sort of thing, so pure white it almost sparkles. It's one of the only buildings not decorated with lights or wreaths and instead stands alone, glistening in the snow. Its long columns and lofty arches suggest at some source of power and eminence, but to Dean they just create more shadows to hide in as he begins to scale the building.

Through the windows he can see the angels doing their part to prepare for Christmas, wings fluttering as they fly about hanging garland and gold tinsel. They always have this strange type of solemnness to them, something that doesn't quite seem to fit in with the merriness of the rest of Christmas Town. As Dean continues to climb the building, he can hear them singing from within, indistinct hymns about babies and drummer boys and wise men.

From outside Dean spots Castiel, decorating a fat green tree, and he grins, climbing a little ways higher so that he's perched above, balanced on the window frame and out of sight. Slowly, he leans down to unlock the window and watches as the cool air flows inward, a sprinkling of snowflakes following.

He hears Cas pause inside and waits until he hears footsteps approach the window. He then scrapes his sharpened fingernails on the roof top, producing a shrill, eerie sound in the night. When he sees Cas lean out the window, halo shining like a target, he leans forward eagerly, ready to pounce until he hears:

"Dean, I know that's you."

He shrinks back and mutters under his breath as Cas turns and looks upward, smirking widely. He looks far too smug for Dean's taste (though he's always been impossible to scare, which is equal parts interesting and infuriating, because it's Dean's job to scare people). Still grumbling, Dean leaps down and swings in through the window.

Despite his annoyance, he still smiles when he sees Cas standing there, wings outstretched and glittering like ice crystals. He reaches forward to pull Cas into a close embrace, which Cas returns, his wings fluttering happily around Dean’s ears.

"Hello, Dean."

"Hey, there, Cas. How have you been?”

Cas rolls his eyes and sighs. “Same as always. We’re preparing for Christmas again, with the same old carols and trees and decorations. You?”

"Pretty much the same. There's a town meeting right now and they're already discussing the plans for next year, even though it's still 364 days away," Dean says as he shrugs and scratches at the back of his neck awkwardly before looking down. "But anyway, I, uh, brought you something,” 

“You did?” Cas’ eyes light up and his wings even flap so that he hovers a few inches above the ground for a minute. “What is it?”

“It’s, uh, just a--you know what, here.”

Dean reaches into his pocket and pulls out an orange jack-o-lantern ornament, mouth carved into an evil grin, hanging on a loop of thin black thread. Cas takes it carefully from Dean's fingers and watches with fascination as two green and purple striped snakes slither out of the mouth and twine themselves around his wrist and fingers before returning inside. He squints and brings the ornament closer to his face, trying to peer inside of it.

"Do you like it?" He grows increasingly nervous as Cas scrutinizes the small pumpkin, turning it this way and that.

His worry clears when Cas turns and smiles brilliantly. "I love it, Dean."

He darts off to hang the ornament high up on his tree, and he and Dean watch as the snakes glade back out and set about attempting to eat the other shiny bulbs hanging from the branches. Dean wonders what they’re going to do together tonight, if Cas will get some pie from the bakery, or if he’ll finally explain what those little leafy green plants Dean sees hanging from all the doorways are.

He stops wondering when Cas slowly reaches out to twine his hand with Dean's, and he grows oddly content for a moment. He knows how peculiar they must look, Dean with his glowing green eyes and patched up clothes while Cas stands beside him, pristine from head to toe, except for his slightly crooked halo hovering above his head.

They’re an unlikely pair, the Halloween ghoul and Christmas angel.

But, to be honest, they're quite happy that way. 

[kazchester]

I miss you honeybear

[buticancarryyou]

random caps: 9x01 // I Think I'm Gonna Like It Here

[thychesters]

He starts by laughing at them.

"My brothers will come for me," he says, voice strong and resolute. "Just watch, they’ll be here."

Micheal doesn’t say anything and Lucifer howls. Adam glowers because yes, yes they will come, they will!

Sam’s been missing for a few decades (years, years, maybe centuries, days, minutes, hours, seconds, time time who needs time) now. He wonders when he’ll be coming back and oh god what are they doing to you, Sam? Shit, Sam Sam SAM, are you okay? Just hold on, man. Just hold on I’ll find a way to get to you, I got your back, just like you got mine. The old man in the black suit came by a little (long) while ago. Just out of the corner of his eye. Maybe he imagined it. No, no he couldn’t have imagined it, no no.

That brilliant ball of white hot, glowing, beautiful light Lucifer had been clawing and biting and ripping and tearing into is gone. The old man took it when he wasn’t looking.

For some reason, this makes Adam upset because Sam where are you he misses that light.

They’re coming, they will, they’ll come, you’ll see where’s that light where is it

Lucifer thinks it’s funny because he sounds like he really believes what he’s saying.

Adam wants to scream in rage and say the devil made me do it because he really can, considering how here come the meat hooks and mom’s mangled in the corner all like baby I thought you loved me how could you leave me like that for the third time today.

"My brothers will come, they wouldn’t leave me here."

They’ll come!

The other god-awful ugly don’t even look at them masses chortle, pressing muzzles against bars of flesh and heat and spill laughter through missing jaws and empty eye sockets and where are you SAM!

"We’re family, family doesn’t abandon each other."

Lucifer cracks his knuckle through one of Adam’s thigh bones and (not for the first time) the pain doesn’t really register. It just kinda feels weird and he wishes he would just stop it already SAAAAM

"Well that’s funny," Michael hisses, contempt aimed at his brother and letting his (former) vessel take the brunt of it. "seeing as you once said your only family was your mother."

They’ll come for me they will just watch

Adam’s breath wheezes out of the lungs he suddenly doesn’t have and his gaze flits to the archangel clenching his jaw and burning out his eyes before the snap of fingers echoes and he can pretend to breathe again, if only for a moment.

"I thought these men hardly meant a thing to you?" Lucifer sneers and Adam would tell him to go to hell if it weren’t for the redundancy.

He screams and reminds himself that maybe somewhere, somewhere way way way up there two guys who know too much about too many things know where he is and are coming for him and that’s where the light went I miss the light

Lucifer pokes through his skull again and HELP ME ignores his brother and reminds Adam that no one is looking for you Milligan you poor wretched wayward orphan no one no one poor boy all alone

Adam screams bloody murder and thrashes before he starts laughing.

They’ll come for me, they will!

And laughing.

They will they will they will they will they have to have to they need to they’re gonna of course they are they wouldn’t leave him they couldn’t they’ll come they will they will they will they will they won’t

They don’t

They never will

Lucifer howls, and Michael doesn’t say anything.

Eventually, Adam stops laughing.

[youreyesarelikestarlightnow]

So um...more blind!Cas? (Part 2/?)

first | previous | next

One of Dean's favorite things to do is kiss Cas.

All the time. Before dates and after dates, in the middle of the sidewalk, across the table at the coffee shop they like to go to. Dean loves to press even the lightest, quickest pecks to Cas' lips, knowing that Cas can never see them coming. He revels in the look of surprise Cas always gives him when he pulls away.

So he might be taking slight advantage of his boyfriend's inability to see, but so far Cas hasn't said a word against it, so Dean keeps at it.

They kiss long and deep and slow, Cas' fingers tangled in Dean's hair in an attempt to pull him even closer. The only sounds in the room are the warm, wet slide of their lips as they separate and come together again, their breathing ever harsher in each other's ears.

Dean loves it because of the sense of equality in it. He doesn't need to see in order to chase the lingering taste of coffee on Cas' tongue, doesn't need sight in order to feel Cas' hands pressed against his back and down his side. The outside world melts away for a while, leaving only the two of them and the couch beneath them. His hands knock Cas' sunglasses, which had been pushed to the top of his head earlier, to the floor, but neither of them pays any attention to them as they clatter away.

And, for the record, Cas is awesome at kissing. It's like he was born to do it. He's never rushed or slopping, but slow and thorough, testing out every little technique and trick until Dean is breathless and gasping and wanting more.

There’s a problem that comes because of that: wanting more.

It’s when Dean unconsciously rolls his hips downward towards Cas', just a little, just enough to brush against the bulge in Cas' pants. Like clockwork, that's the second everything stops, coming to a screeching halt. Cas' hands still and he pulls away, blushing and awkwardly trying to maneuver his legs around Dean so he can escape to the kitchen. And normally Dean backs off and lets Cas leave because he's a good boyfriend and he gets it. Sex can be scary enough, probably doubly without the sense of sight. So he gets why Cas is hesitant but, in short, Cas is hot and Dean's frustrated and, short of his own hand, he can't do a damn thing about it.

And they probably should have tried sitting down and talking about it, like the grown-ups they are, but evidently they both suck at that because any attempt at that conversation tends to lead to impromptu make out sessions on the couch.

So that's why for once Dean doesn't let Cas leave and instead leans up onto his knees and grabs both of Cas' hands in his. "Cas."

And even though Cas is blind and can't see Dean, he turns his head away anyway. "Dean."

"We should talk about this. For real."

Cas sighs and tries to pull his hands away, but Dean tightens his hold. "Not now."

"Then when?"

Cas opens his mouth to answer but then just bites his lip and says nothing.

Dean stares at Cas imploringly, as if it would make a difference, and says, "Look I get that you're scared, Cas, but we've known each other for almost six months and have dated for more than half of that, and I'd like to think you trust me at least a little bit now. It's just me."

Cas stays silent for a long minute and then takes a deep breath and shakes his head. "It's not just you though," he says, his voice tiny, "It's not...sex with you that I'm scared of it's more like...sex in general." The last part comes out in a rush, hardly more than a whisper.

Realization dawns on Dean. "You mean you've never-"

"I lost my sight as a teenager, Dean. At the very start of sexual awareness, and, well,” he chews on his lip a little more and then says, a little bitterly, “Not exactly a lot of people were jumping at the chance to get with the blind kid, okay? You're...kind of the first."

The blush on Cas' cheeks has grown redder, more embarrassed now and he looks like there are about ten million places he'd rather be than on the couch. And Dean's sitting there in shock because, yeah, he probably should have considered the possibility of Cas being a virgin, but somehow didn't because, blind or not, Cas is gorgeous and smart, grumpy in the mornings and adorable at night and a whole mess of other endearing things.  The idea that he, Dean Winchester, is the first to realize that is such an incomprehensible concept it's almost laughable.

At some point in all of this, Dean's grip on Cas' hands loosens and Cas manages to pull away and swing his legs off the couch, quickly dodging the coffee table and all but running into his kitchen. Dean catches up with him a minute later and finds Cas getting a glass of water, one finger over the rim of the cup to prevent overfilling it.

Dean comes up behind him, making enough noise so that he knows Cas won't get startled. He wraps his arms around Cas' waist and presses a kiss below his ear. "I get it," he murmurs, "I get it and we don't have to do anything today or tomorrow or next week, but whenever we get there, I'll make it good for you. I promise." He already has a vague idea in mind, something warm with strongly scented candles and silk sheets, not simply for the romance of it all but because they're things Cas can enjoy without his sight.

Cas puts the glass down and slowly folds his hands over Dean's. He leans into the embrace and smiles a little. "Okay."

[kazchester]

deansmypizzaman replied to your post “deansmypizzaman replied to your post: What the actual fuck is...”

I just want to stick my chest out and be like I don't care cause I love everyone!

laksjdas you are a sunshine laura

[buticancarryyou]

Mama told me when I was young "Come sit beside me, my only son And listen closely to what I say And if you do this it will help you some sunny day."

[slayertsetsang]

Dean had bought Sam a bouquet of sunflowers. 

Wild sunflowers- he picked them from a field himself. Sam didn't understand why Dean walked into the room seeming flustered, with his eyes down and one hand behind his back, his cheeks slightly tinged pink. Dean walked up to him where he sat on the bed and pushed him back on it, leaning over him as he lay still, staring up at his big brother quietly, his gaze steady, warm. 

But this. This was new.

So he kissed Sam back, just as hesitant. Experimenting, enjoying the feeling of Sammy's firm lips on his, his hand at his back guiding him down to the bed, the crush of soft flower petals between their bodies.

"Thank you," Sam whispered against Dean's lips. "They're beautiful."

"We're ruining them," Dean protested, and Sam could hear the nerves in his voice. He pulled a flower out of the bouquet and tucked it behind Dean's ear, bringing him back in close for another kiss, the touch of his lips begging for more as his hand crept beneath Dean's shirt to feel his bare skin. Dean gasped and lay back, their positions switching smoothly as Sam loomed over him, big and strong, everything Dean had ever wanted.

"Sammy," he whispered, his eyes closing as Sam lifted his shirt and bent his head, pressing kisses to his warmed skin. 

"Right here, Dean," Sam whispered back, his voice coming out in small breaths against Dean's chest. He arched up into it, reaching for Sam's hair, his hands fisting in the soft strands as he pulled him back for a kiss, this one fierce, passionate.

"I want you," Dean said, determination in his eyes, need in his voice. "I'm sick of dancing around it in fucking circles. I want you, Sammy."

Sam reached for the sunflowers lying beside them on the bed, and lay back again, positioning himself at the head of the bed, the flowers on his chest where Dean had placed them before.

"I'm yours, Dean," he said softly.

Dean had bought Sam a bouquet of sunflowers the first time they came together.

[hangryhomo]

deansmypizzaman replied to your post “deansmypizzaman replied to your post “i read waves today in the...”

http://deansmypizzaman.tumblr.com/post/44765376680/domestic-destiel-fic-rec-list domestic and fluff :D read the first one if you haven't

eep! okay i'll definitely do that bc i need a little domestic!deancas in my life rn 

[youreyesarelikestarlightnow]

Dean doesn't think he's ever seen Cas so still.

He's grown so used to the Cas that was always on the move, a creature of light, constantly shifting and changing and moving. The one who blipped himself from one place to another, never slowing down, always looking for the next demon to exorcise or the next battle to fight. It was one of the things Dean hated most about Cas, how he could never manage to freaking stay put for more than a minute.

But suddenly he's here. In the bunker. Grounded. Human. He eats and drinks and rides around with them everywhere in the Impala, bound by all the mortal limitations of humanity. He’s sleeping now, passed out in a bed, and curled under so many blankets that Dean can only see the tiniest hint of dark hair peeking out of the cocoon.

It's frightening. Dean had thought he'd be happy to see Cas stationary for once, but the abrupt stillness is too much. He can barely tell that Cas is even breathing, and the thought of him not makes Dean's heart stop a little.

Sighing, he pulls up a chair and sits beside Cas' bed. He settles in and leans his elbows against his knees, chin on top of his hands, and prepares to spend the night counting the rise and fall of Cas’ chest.

Just to make sure.

[kazchester]

deansmypizzaman replied to your post: What the actual fuck is happening right now on...

I don’t know either and I refuse to read the wank when I see it

good, most of the time I laugh at how stupid people are, but right now I don't even want to know. 

[slayertsetsang]

the sunflowers murmur your name instead

[hangryhomo]

deansmypizzaman replied to your post “i read waves today in the entirety of two and a half hours and i want...”

This is when you read the fluffy stuff right afterwards remember :)

i still have that tab open on my laptop ;) i've heard freefall has domestic so i'll probs fly through that bc /dOMESTIC/ omg but then i'm def going to need some major fluff wow

[saucynewf]

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[youreyesarelikestarlightnow]

There's a little girl in Castiel's dream.

She's perhaps six or seven, not much older, he guesses. A flower crown with pale pink and blue daisies sits atop her golden-bronze curls, and she's wearing a clean cotton white sundress. Her feet are bare. She smiles at him toothily, reaches out, and takes his hand.

They keep on spinning and finally fall, laughing dizzily while staring up at the sky. When the world stops turning, the little girl gets up and tugs at his hand insistently until Castiel clambers to his feet.

They're standing in a kitchen, and although he's never seen it before Cas is opening up cabinets and drawers, pulling out plates and knives and forks as if he's lived there his entire life. The little girl is talking to him, her voice high and tinkling like a bell, but he can't make out anything she's saying. He smiles at her anyway, feeling strangely content as he moves to the fridge and starts sifting through jars of jam and vegetables.

He makes them sandwiches, and they sit at a sturdy little table to eat them. She's still chatting away animatedly, her legs swinging happily because they don't quite touch the floor yet. For some reason, Cas doesn't find himself questioning anything. There's nothing odd about the little girl, or the field, or the unfamiliar house that really stands out to him, and so he simply goes along with it. Just as people do in dreams.

They finish their lunch and take their plates back to the kitchen, and Cas finds a stool for the girl to stand on as they wash the dishes. He hands the wet plates to her for drying, and she stands up on her tiptoes in order to stack them neatly back into their place in the cupboard.

When the forks and knives are put away she steps daintily off her stool, comes to take Cas' hand, and for the first time he hears her, loud and clear.

"When's daddy coming home, papa?"

And he looks down at her, at her bright green, stupidly familiar eyes, and understands.

He wakes up with his head on Dean's shoulder, their legs tangled together. The dream is still fresh in Cas' mind, but Dean is still sleeping, so he says nothing for now. Someday, though, he'll bring it up.

Someday soon.