sleepyhead276



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    Dean keeps going back.

    When he arrives, it's always to blooming flowers and a windmill in the background, not too far from a brook, the sun painting the plains.

    He likes it there. He likes to stand in front of the makeshift urn and check that it's still where he put it, switching out the flowers when they wilt. He likes to listen to the sound of birds chirping, insects singing, the faint sound of water trickling in the distance. He likes to turn his face up and feel the sun on his skin, wondering if Cas would do the same if he were here, somehow knowing that he would.

    He likes to talk.

    There's never a response, but Dean feels the breeze rustle through his hair and watches the flowers bob when bees come to them and stares as the windmill keeps turning, turning, turning. And he imagines that Cas is replying—the windmill is the tilted head, the bobbing flowers are a gentle smile, the breeze is whatever words Dean wants to hear at the time.

    Sometimes, it's almost like he's there.

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    17 Jul 2025

  2. Public Bookmark 38

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    “Maybe I know some things about myself,” he says. “And maybe you know them too. From– from rebuilding me or being in my head or just– from knowing me. From–”
    “From loving you,” Cas supplies.
    Dean looks at him and nods.
    “Knowing and saying are not the same thing, Cas. Does that make sense?”

     

    Or: Dean Winchester comes to terms with some gender stuff.

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    16 Jul 2025

  3. Public Bookmark 4

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    Castiel wakes up from the empty once again, Delirious, hurt and heaving.

    Dean is going into a downward spiral quickly, struggling with suicidal ideation and self harm.

    “Dean is begging. He’s shaking so hard it’s like a machine gun is going off in his body, rattling the man to his core. Castiel can’t make it out. He can’t figure out what he is praying to. Who is he praying to?

    He can’t make it out, because there’s darkness clouding his mind all over again. It’s desperate, pulling and ripping its way through until it makes that specific vision go away. But Dean is praying.”

    “I love— fuck. I love you, Cas. Castiel. I love you, fuck, please. Jesus, I can’t- Fuck. Please, I can’t.

     

    He’s swung himself up so quickly into the real world that he can’t catch himself. It’s still dark, but he’s awake. Really awake. He’s no longer trapped in the nightmare. He can see his hands, oh, Jesus.”

    Little snippet !

    UPDATE SOON ❤️

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    06 Jul 2025

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    “I think,” Cas grits out, “that the spell requires me to say the truth. I’ve been trying to suppress it with my grace, but it’s… not working.”
    “Got it,” Dean says, nodding, because he can work with this. “Yeah. Sure. So give me some truths. Some stupid little ones.”
    Cas narrows his eyes. “Such as?”
    “Like, I dunno, what’s your favorite color?”
    Cas’s face somehow goes stonier. “Green,” he ekes out.
    Dean clears his throat. Blinks a few times. “Oh.”
    ________

    Or: when Dean and Cas investigate a group of high school students getting mysteriously ill, Cas gets hit with a truth spell.

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    30 Jun 2025

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    Dean’s sitting at the kitchen table with Sam when his phone rings. Jody’s name flashes across the screen and he considers not picking up. It’s not like Dean doesn’t want to talk to Jody, it's just that he can’t bear talking to anyone these days.

    “Hi, Jody,” Sam says.

    “Howdy, boys.” She asks them to take over a case. Something about werewolves. Dean doubts they will, Sam hasn’t let him pick up a gun in months, not since their last hunt.

    Jody’s voice cuts through the phone. “Alright, if you boys don’t wanna take the case, I’ll see if Castiel will, but I think he’s helping Claire in Colorado–”

    Dean doesn’t hear a damn thing after that, and by the looks of it, Sam doesn’t either. For the first time in days, Dean opens his mouth and speaks. “Cas is alive?”

    Jody’s voice is quiet on the other end. “He didn’t tell you?”

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    02 Jun 2025