#drgarth

[floral-cas]

created for @starrynightdeancas and @drgarth's Christmas advent calendar event! day one: decorate the tree

Cas and Dean are in their lake house and they've decorated a small tree. They're very proud of it and had Jack take a picture of them :)

[you-cant-spell-subtext-without]

Do you have any book recs? Have been wanting to read and I don't know what

This is going to disclose that I read an inappropriate amount of YA and I apologize in advance, however:

[got verbose so long-winded list of recs are under the cut]

ANYTHING by Sarah J. Maas if you like series (my favorite of hers are the ACOTAR books - starts with A Court of Thorns and Roses [THERE ARE WINGS!!!]); anything by Leigh Bardugo; The Ember quartet by Sabaa Tahir (Ember in the Ashes is the first book); the Caraval trilogy by Stephanie Garber.

If you like Bridgewater, Lauren Shippen also created an audio drama called the Bright Sessions and there are three in-universe books - the third came out today!!! You don't have to have listened to the audio drama to read them, and they can be read as stand-alones or separately. They are: The Infinite Noise (TIN is such a comfort read), A New Darkness, and Some Faraway Place (HBD TO THIS ONE!)

Sam Smith mentioned another series by Laini Taylor that I love dearly at this last con; first book is The Daughter of Smoke and Bone (monsters, angels, lore galore!)

If you wanna get Halloween-y I really love the book Anna Dressed in Blood and its sequel Girl of Nightmares by Kendare Blake (also her Three Dark Crowns series is amazing).

I can't book rec without mentioning my beloved Winternight trilogy by Katherine Arden (first book is The Bear and the Nightingale), which accurately incorporates so much of my own Russian historical folklore and Talk About A Compelling Otherworldly Being as a lead character RAWR.

I read a lot of series; that much is clear. However -

Non-series: Slaughterhouse Five; The Song of Achilles (but prepare to be broken); The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo (peak literature); The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas (and watch the Netflix film after); On the Come Up by Angie Thomas. I was recently rec'ed Piranesi by Susanna Clarke as well and really enjoying diving into that one (I read mult books and fic at once I am unwell).

Oh! And White Oleander. I am always thinking about White Oleander by Janet Finch, be warned if it was an AO3 fic though the triggers would be a paragraph long. But its fucking lovely and sadly formative brain reading years for me.

If you're ok with harder topics, the best two books I've ever read on the concept of addiction are Beautiful Boy by David Sheff and the companion piece Tweak by Nic Sheff (the boy in question). Please be forewarned they are BOTH very hard reads dealing with drug abuse (meth and other things). Also as someone with personal history of ED I would be remiss not to mention Portia De Rossi's memoir Unbearable Lightness which does the best job of describing that area of struggle I have ever read (however again - please watch the triggers).

For lighter, funner fare please read through Tamora Pierce's entire oeuvre and enjoy the stories of my youth. Also Anne McAffrey. Pern, my beloved safe place.

Nonfiction I have enjoyed includes What I Talk About When I Talk About Running by Haruki Murakami, Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates; Stamped From the Beginning by Ibram X. Kendi (if you're a history human this is a great account of the REAL history so many of us were not taught in school); and Pity The Reader by Kurt Vonnegut and Suzanne McConnell (a great writing book).

oh god this is so long and now I want to re read almost everything on this list. hope this helps; if you have a specific genre or type of story you are thinking of pls feel free to lmk. I used to (and sometimes still!! do!) read a TON.

[louisdotmp3]

Fuck dean Forester hes literally the worst boyfriend she has the entire show and that's been my opinion since 3rd grade

you're right !!!!!!!!! when ur so jealous u get jealous of SCHOOL...

send me gilmore girls opinions

[typicalopposite]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/35502139

[spnblrcrushes2]

drgarth we are like, so close in my brain, and real life i have interacted with you so little, but you are an absolute ray of sunshine

@drgarth

[birbs-in-space]

27 and also ♪

hi garth ty!! ask game here

27. weeping and wailing - bad manners ♪ 32. moving - bigger thomas

[pocketabed]

trueform cas :0

taglist under the cut, ask if youd like to be added or removed

@drgarth @shmegel @heres-to-evil-skanks @frostypiss @frozenbutter-castiel​ @crabs-but-better​ @justcastiel​ @10x02​ @clouds-starlight​ @nio-bee-um​ @destiebestie​ @emeraldcas​ 

[queen-rowenas]

@starrynightdeancas and @drgarth’s advent calendar event day three: watch a hallmark christmas movie

“This doesn’t make any sense. It’s literally the same story over and over,” Dean complains, slumped back on the couch, face pressed into Cas’s shoulder.

They’re three movies into the Hallmark Christmas movie marathon on television. Cas and Jack had insisted on watching it when they stumbled on the channel. Much more enthusiastic than Dean, Sam and Eileen had fixed everyone hot chocolate before settling into the other couch.

Jack perks from his spot in the floor, leaning against Cas’s leg. “I like them.”

“I mean…Yeah, me too.” Dean feels his face flush. Because it’s still a chick flick. “That doesn’t mean they’re good.”

Cas nods. “Enjoying something isn’t dependent on the quality.”

“Yeah, exactly. But they could at least get a little more creative.” Dean waves around the arm that’s not wrapped around Cas. “There’s always like some big city lawyer and a small town that’s weirdly obsessed with Christmas and a business that’s about to shut down, but then they rediscover the meaning of Christmas and fall in love and save the family business or something.”

Cas sits up, dislodging a disgruntled Dean’s arm, and takes a sip of his hot chocolate. “I appreciate the storyline.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re a sap, babe.”

“Really?” Sam gives him an incredulous look over Eileen’s head. “Cas is the sap. You’re the one trying to merge into Cas’s side and actually getting invested in these movies.”

“I’m not as bad as these two,” Dean says, tucking himself into Cas’s side as the angel sits back and wraps an arm around him. He’s not gonna argue the cuddling thing. He can’t help that Cas is comfortable as hell.

“You were yelling at the movie earlier.”

“She didn’t know why he really left, Sam! She didn’t know he loved her!”

“Yeah, okay,” Sam says, not convinced, “You seem to feel pretty strongly about these movies.”

“The story is still compelling. That’s how they’re able to make millions of them.”

A chill has Dean shivering, and Cas reaches over him to pull up their blanket from where it had shifted down in his rant, tucking it around both of their shoulders. Ignoring Sam’s smug side eye, Dean nestles into his chest, the material of Cas’s sweater soft and warm under his cheek.

Once he’s settled in, he takes a moment to marvel at the fact that this is his life now. He’s watching dumb Christmas chick flicks with his family, his kid sitting cross-legged in the floor, his brother and sister-in-law signing to each other and trying to not disturb the movie with their giggling, his angel wrapped around him. If he were in one of those movies, he’d call it a Christmas miracle.

“I’m rather fond of these movies,” Cas says, contemplative, his chest rumbling as he speaks, “It’s very similar to our lives.”

Dean snorts. “What? How are these movies anything like our lives?”

Cas looks at Dean like the answer is obvious. “Am I not the big city businesswoman secretly looking to escape her busy life and intolerable law firm? And are you not the humble yet charming lumberjack with the heart of gold who shows the businesswoman what really matters in life?”

“Uh…I guess.” Dean is too dumbfounded to make a smart comment about Cas calling him charming.

“And then they work together to defy the law firm and save the Christmas tree farm and fall in love.”

“Yeah,” Dean says quietly, a slow smile spreading across his face despite his burning cheeks, “I guess we are a Christmas movie.”

It’s the cheesiest thing Dean has ever heard. Although most of the things Cas says are pretty cheesy. But Dean has spent years getting used to Cas being painfully earnest about everything, including Hallmark movies. And he loves it.

“I’d watch that movie,” Jack pipes up, adding more whipped cream to his hot chocolate.

Dean smiles, finding Cas’s hand under the blanket. “Me too, kid.”

They’re well into the fourth movie when the protagonist slips on a patch of ice and the love interest catches them. They share a tense moment, a heated look, the music swells, and then they’re kissing.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Dean scoffs, “That never happens. No one does that.”

“Dude, just enjoy the movie,” Sam whispers, careful not to jostle Eileen where she’s asleep on his shoulder.

Cas says nothing, pressing a kiss into his hair. Dean melts into his side under the touch and mutters, “Not realistic.”

Under the lull of the movie and gentle fingers running through his hair, Dean’s eyes start to grow heavy, his head dipping down into the blanket tucked around his neck, and his eyes finally drift shut.

When the marathon ends well into the night, Cas gently shakes Dean awake, and Jack helps Sam and Eileen put their mugs and blankets away.

Cas catches Dean’s hand as he starts to shuffle towards their room. “Jack wanted us to go outside before we went to bed.”

“Seriously?” Dean rubs his eye. “The kid’s already asleep. Can’t this wait until morning?”

“He was very insistent.”

Dean sighs. “Okay. Let me get my boots and jacket.”

Opening the bunker door, Dean sucks in a breath as the cold air hits his face. He blinks against the wind and his eyes grow wide at what he sees. Soft flecks of white flutter down, dusting the ground in white.

“Uh, Cas? Were we supposed to have snow tonight?”

Cas steps up to his side. “No.” He turns his face up to the sky, a slow smile growing on his face.

Dean tugs his collar higher and trudges out into the snow. The night is quiet, the forest softer with the layer of snow, every step muffled under his boots. It’s nice, peaceful.

Perks of having a god for a kid.

He chuckles under his breath and turns to Cas and—

His foot slips out from under him and he tips back, arms spinning to right himself. “Woah!”

A strong arm wraps around his waist and hauls him upright, pulling him in close. Dean’s hands fly up to grip Cas’s arms, his eyes wide, breath puffing between them.

They’re close enough for Dean to pinpoint the different shades of blue in Cas’s eyes, the gentle crease of laugh lines at the corners. There are snowflakes in his hair, giving him a soft halo.

The angel smiles at him, something small and soft and maybe a little smug.

Dean huffs. “Shut up.” And he kisses him.

Cas hums into his mouth and pulls him closer, wrapping his arms around him tighter as Dean brings his hands up to cradle the angel’s face. He’s warm, he thinks distantly.

After a few slow seconds, Dean barely draws back and murmurs against his lips, “If you tell Sam about this, I’ll kill you.”

“Of course,” Cas says, already leaning in for another kiss.

Maybe it’s cliche. Maybe it’s cheesy. But if Dean’s life is kind of like a weird Christmas movie where he gets to be swept up in Cas’s arms and kissed in the snow, he doesn’t mind.

writing tag list pt. 1 (ask to be added or removed)

@10x02 @alivedean @alex-is-a-boy-b-tch @bixlasagna @blue-eyed-cutiepatootie @blue-moon-elf @brokenyouth @butchnatural @carvereracas @casblackfeathers @castiel-for-lunch @castiel-is-a-cat @castielevermore @castielsbeeslippers @ccstiel @clouds-starlight @darthbecky726 @destieldisaster @destielfactory @destielinimpala @donestiel @donvex @dstiel @ensignabby @expectingtofly @feraladoration @folklorecas @fireghost-x @galaxies-of-the-heart @galaxycastiel @good-things-do-happen-dean @heller-swift @himitsutsubasa @how-the-feathers-have-fallen @ialwaysordericedcoffee @immortalcas @im-sam-fucking-winchester @itsshadowdancer23 @jackles-acting-choices @lalisfandoms @littlewolf2703 @llamasdumpsterfire @lookforanewangle @martymar1963 @miniaturereviewmaker @mishha @grinchdean @mostly-marauders-headcanons

[babygirlwolverine]

It’s Time for the Tree

For Day 1 of @drgarth and @starrynightdeancas (that’s me) B & B’s Holiday Advent Calendar Event!

Decorate the Tree // Tree Topper // “Deck the Halls”

“Daddy, is it time? Is it time?” Jack begged, the toddler tugging on Cas’ hand and pulling him towards the tree.

“If Papa says yes,” Cas said, glancing across the room and catching Dean’s eye.

Dean smiled softly, unloading the last box of decorations into the living room and mouthing an ‘I love you’ just for Cas to see.

Feeling his heart skip a beat, Cas blew Dean a kiss; watching as the former-hunter pretended to catch the kiss and tuck it into his pocket. Jack let go of his hand, and Cas watched as the four-year-old darted across the living room.

“Papa! Papa, can we do the tree now? Pleaseeee.”

Cas watched as Dean scooped Jack up into his arms and proceeded to wrap silver tinsel around Jack’s shoulders. “Yeah, kiddo, we can decorate the tree now.”

The giggles that escaped Jack’s mouth floated through the air until they wrapped around Cas’ Grace with a warm tinge. “Daddy said gold this year.”

“Oh, did he now?” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow at his husband.

Finally crossing the room, Cas stepped in close until he could drop a kiss to Jack’s forehead. Dean tilted his head a moment later, asking for a kiss, which Cas gave him eagerly. “It’s currently Jack’s favorite color.”

Grinning, Dean ruffled Jack’s hair and kissed his nose. “Good choice, sweetheart. The gold decorations are in that big box over there,” Dean pointed out, putting the wiggling toddler back down on the ground so he could open the box.

“Please tell me those are all plastic,” Cas said, dropping his forehead down onto Dean’s shoulder.

Humming, Dean turned and slipped his arms around Cas’ waist. “Yeah, they are. I went through them all last night while you were on bath-time duty. Nothing breakable in sight.”

Just as Cas closed his eyes, enjoying Dean’s warm embrace, Jack ran full speed into the hug. “Daddy, Papa, you gotta hang the tinsel.”

Crouching down, Cas booped Jack on the nose. “Did you pick which pieces you want to use?”

“These ones,” Jack said proudly, placing several large bundles of sparkling and shimmering gold tinsel into Cas’ hands. “It looks like your Grace,” the toddler said a moment later, squeezing Cas’ finger before darting away again.

Cas blinked in surprise, his heart lurching in his chest. Jack could see his Grace? Darting his eyes up to Dean, his husband gently soothed his hands through Cas’ hair. “So that’s what Jack meant when he told me this morning that you shined gold,” Dean murmured.

The words were suddenly thick in Cas’ throat, a sharp tug of love that felt like it was going to consume him. But before he could say anything, Jack was back and tugging them both towards the tree.

Stealing a quick kiss, Dean slipped a small piece of shiny gold tinsel from Cas’ hand. “I’ll start at the top and you can help Jack at the bottom and we’ll meet in the middle?” Dean suggested.

“That sounds great,” Cas said, finally finding his words.

They spent the next thirty minutes hanging tinsel and lifting Jack up to hang decorations all over the tree branches. Soft gold balls and sparkling gold stars. Little red and white candy canes and snowflakes that Jack had made the day before.

Finally, Dean grabbed the last object from the box. The tree topper. A small little gold angel, complete with a halo. Stepping forward, Dean offered the topper to both Cas and Jack.

“My little angels should be the ones to put the angel topper on the tree,” Dean said quietly, catching Cas’ fingers with his and squeezing softly.

“Are you sure?” Cas whispered, even as Jack started tugging on Cas’ arm to be picked up.

“Yeah, sweetheart, I’m sure,” Dean murmured, smiling as Cas stole a quick kiss.

A second later, Cas picked Jack up and hoisted him so he could reach the top of the tree. “Go okay, honey. Put the angel right on top,” Cas said, guiding Jack until the angel was perfectly balanced on the top branch.

“What do you think, tiger?” Dean said once Cas had put Jack down and the toddler had gone and wrapped his arms around Dean’s legs.

“I love it,” Jack said, clapping his hands happily.

“Me too,” Dean said, reaching out until he’d tugged Cas close until they were all cuddled together.

The tree was perfect, shining and blinking with soft golden lights, and Cas wanted to hold onto this moment forever. With Jack giggling and Dean pressing soft kisses to his neck, Cas had never been happier in his entire life.

[chinzhilla-main]

Sleigh Ride + frosted peppermint

for @starrynightdeancas and @drgarth's holiday advent calendar

[floral-cas]

created for @starrynightdeancas and @drgarth's Christmas advent calendar event! day two: poinsettias

poinsettias symbolize hope and love

[you-cant-spell-subtext-without]

genuine question. how do you write poetry?

ive wanted to for a long time but i also didnt like most poetry. and then you and Misha and a couple other blogs have got me wanting to try my hand at it again, but i dont know where to start

first of all friend the fact that you just put poetry me and Misha in the same sentence is extremely *heart eyes at you*

poetry IMO is all about feelings. it's your heart in words. I know some people do it more technically (and some of Misha's poems are VERY technical!!), but I generally just. dump the words out. sometimes I revise them a little; sometimes I leave em raw. sometimes they rhyme, sometimes they don't. sometimes I write them with visual effects in mind (extra space b/w words or staggering). sometimes I name them.

I come up with a lot of them while outdoors; whether I'm sitting on my deck or on a run. they strike randomly - but when they do I try to chase the thought until it comes out in words.

I have a poetry google doc and I just drop poems there when one strikes me; when they feel exceptionally decent I share 'em :D

IMO the definition of a 'good' poem is that it makes you feel something. that's it!

[reblogging4thewin]

For @starrynightdeancas and @drgarth 's B&B Advent Calendar Days 1-7

Day 1: Tree Topper ; Day 2: Poinsettias ; Day 3: Candles ; Day 4: Ugly Christmas Sweaters ; Day 5: Red Pickup Truck ; Day 6: Fireplace ; Day 7: Mittens

I finally got around to finishing this. Their living room is all ready for Christmas tomorrow.

Cas is knitting some mittens for Dean, who has taken up painting. They've swapped out their usual picture on the mantle for one with their matching ugly Christmas sweaters.

As always on Tumblr, click to load full quality/resolution.

Close-ups under the cut:

[spnblrcrushes2]

@drgarth garth you always know how to cheer people up💕💕

@drgarth

[one-more-offbeat-anthem]

for day two of @starrynightdeancas and @drgarth ‘s advent calendar event: hang lights and garland//poinsettias//“feliz navidad”

When Dean had left the house to go to the grocery store an hour ago, all had been calm. Jack was perfectly happy coloring construction paper Christmas cards while Cas read a book on the couch and How the Grinch Stole Christmas (the 1966 animated version, because Dean’s not a heathen and the 2000 live-action one would freak Jack out) played on the television. The entire time that he was trying to find 100% apple juice and that one weird kind of creamer Cas loves and ground beef on sale at the store, Dean didn’t worry about his husband or kid at all. 

And pulling into the driveway, everything seems normal: their little house is still intact, the wrap-around porch still covered with Christmas lights, the trashcan still at the end of the driveway because Dean keeps forgetting to bring it in. 

Walking inside, it’s a different story. 

Jack is sitting on the floor in the entryway, his footie pajamas that he insists on wearing all day absolutely covered in dirt. The source of the dirt is quickly obvious: the potted poinsettia that the secretary of Cas’s department at the university gave them (and every English faculty member) is now un-potted, and one of the leaves clearly has a few big chomps taken out of it. 

Dean thought that, after turning four, Jack was done eating plants, but clearly not. 

Behind him, Cas is on the phone, pacing. Dean sets the grocery bags he was carrying down and scoops Jack up into his arms, dirt and all. “Kid,” Dean says with a sigh, “What’d you do?”

“Ate the plant.”

“I can see that, buddy. But why does your Papa look so stressed?”

“It’s a bad plant.” Jack draws out the word bad in his little pre-kindergartener lisp.

“Nah, not really.” Dean shakes Jack, and Jack giggles. “You seem fine.”

“Papa said it’s poi-pois...I don’t know.”

“Poisonous?”

“Uh-huh.” 

“Cas,” Dean says over Jack’s head, “Are you on the phone with poison control?”

“...Maybe.”

“One poinsettia leaf isn’t gonna hurt Jack. Maybe if he had like, five, he’d throw up. But that’s it.”

“Oh.” Cas looks at his phone and then says into it, “Sorry, my husband just got home. Our son seems fine.” Someone on the other end clearly gripes at him, and then Cas hangs up. 

"Daddy,” Jack tugs on Dean’s collar, “Can we go play with my dolls?”

“You gotta help clean up the mess you made first, okay? And you have to change. You’re all dirty.” Dean braces himself for a protest, and sure enough, Jack wiggles until Dean is forced to set him down and then takes off running down the hallway. 

Dean glances at Cas. “He’s your problem. I’m getting the rest of the groceries.” At this rate, Jack’s room will need to be vacuumed, and Dean does not want to do that. 

Maybe he’ll even bring the trashcan in. 

[myaimistrue]

written for b and b’s advent calendar by the wonderful @starrynightdeancas and @drgarth! the prompt was from day 15: reminiscing.

Dean’s had a lot of shitty Christmases in his life.

For plenty of them, he was on a hunt—one miserable year, he and Dad were in the woods all night Christmas Eve dealing with a vamp nest. They didn’t get back to the motel until eight in the morning, and then they only stuck around long enough to patch themselves up. Dean spent Christmas day driving to the next hunt while Dad slept next to him.

That was the last Christmas he ever spent with his dad, actually—afterward, Dad was always off on his own. Now that was a string of shitty Christmases, three years alone and drunk and missing his brother and dad so badly he could barely fucking stand it.

And Jesus, the Christmases when he was a kid—those were rough. Dad never barely ever even acknowledged the holiday, so Dean was always trying to make it as fun for Sammy as he could. He’d shoplift small things, toy cars and keychains and packs of gum, trying to piece together something like a real Christmas. Sammy loved everything Dean gave him, even though it was wrapped in newspaper, even though it was nowhere near what most kids got. And then he’d go to sleep, not waiting for Santa to come because he knew better, and Dean would sit up awake, waiting for Dad to get back.

The past fifteen years have been better, only in that there were too many other things to worry about. It’s hard to care about Christmas when you’re actively trying to stop the apocalypse. Or you’re a demon. Or your brother is dead. Or the man you love is dead. Or your son is dead.

Anyway. Dean knows shitty Christmases, so he can say with certainty that this, this right here isn’t shitty at all.

He looks around the living room, crammed together with all of the oversized comfy furniture Cas insisted on. Christmas lights are hanging everywhere, little knick-knacks of Santa Claus that Cas and Jack found at a thrift store cover every flat surface, and wrapping paper is littered all over the rug in a mess that would probably have Dean flipping his shit if he weren’t so relaxed right now. Jack is out in the yard with Sam and Eileen playing with his new drone or whatever they got him, and from the window, Dean can see how they’re all looking up at it, puffs of their breath like smoke in the cool air.

And pressed up against his side, Cas is pouring over the new books Eileen bought him. He’s got a Santa hat on, and he looks incredibly focused, and Dean loves him. Dean’s happy.

“Hey,” Dean says.

Cas glances up, and smiles. “Hello, Dean.”

“This is good, isn’t it? This is…” Dean feels himself smiling, too, and he pulls Cas a little closer. “This is a good Christmas.”

Cas kisses him, soft and easy, because now, every kiss doesn’t have to be their last. They’ve got a home, and a family, and they’ve got time. So much time.

“Merry Christmas, Dean.” Cas touches Dean’s face, the stubble that he should shave but hasn’t gotten around to yet, and he looks happy, too. He looks at Dean like he’s found every answer. Like he’s found love, and all the safety and warmth and joy that comes with it.

Dean noses in for one more kiss, and outside, he can hear everyone laughing. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”