WHEN I DRINK, ALL I WANNA DRAW IS GAY BOYS (probably doesn’t help that all i’ve been thinking about for the past week has been “OMFG MISHA’S INTERVIEW AND S9 SNEAK PEAK AND DELETED TAXI DRIVER SCENE DLAFJDAKLFDJALFDSFA”) so here, have a sketch i’ve been doodling for the past two days while intoxicated. (about time i started pulling my weight in this wonderful fandom anyways)
and here, as a bonus, have a judgmental speed!color cas that frowns upon your life decisions
in your vocabulary, if “5th year senior” isn’t synonymous for “alcoholic in-front of a computer”, then let me tell you a thing
“Dipsomaniac”
(College AU)
“Dean.”
“Not now, Cas. I have to finish this thesis… paper… thing. Whatever it’s called.”
Castiel propped a cocked hip against his boyfriend’s desk, pointedly fingering the neck of the whiskey bottle. At Dean’s unapologetic look, he rocked it back and forth and they both watched the last of it slosh against the glass. “The only thing it seems you have any intent to finish, is this bottle.”
Dean rubbed his eyes and groaned, jerking his shoulders in a helpless gesture. “A man’s gotta do what he’s gotta do.”
“Not at almost four in the morning, Dean. Statistically, work done in the midst of sleep depravation, let alone inebriation, is not your best quality, and may actually take more time to fix later and—“
“Jesus christ, Cas, shut up for five seconds.” Dean spun around to face him, slouching down in his chair and thighs splayed wide in exhaustion. Castiel made a low noise in his throat and gently brushed his thumb across the dark circles under Dean’s eyes.
“Come get some sleep. Tomorrow’s Tuesday. Well, today is Tuesday. All the more reason you should really sleep.”
“Shit. That’s right, I have weight training in a couple hours. Just kill me now, it’ll be less painful.” Almost without thought, Dean hooked his fingers in Castiel’s—or rather his—flannel pajama pants, and tugged him forward between his legs. He rested his forehead heavily against Castiel’s stomach, eyelashes tickling the sleep-rumbled shirt as he closed his eyes. “I’ve been working on this damn degree for five years, Cas. I need to just fucking finish it.”
Castiel quirked a small smile and slid his hand to cup Dean’s cheek. “Please come to bed, before your organs stage a mutiny. I’ll proof your dissertation, or whatever mess you’ve made of it, over lunch.”
AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHG BRIE YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH YOU JUST MADE MY DAY OR OF THE BIGGEST OF SMILES I HAD ON MY FACE WHILE READING THIS CUZ DAMN it’s perfect and more than i ever imagined, ALSDFKJASLDF I loved it. it was perfect. you’re perfect.
moving what little spn art i have from my main blog to here~