whit merule

As a multi-shipper in the SPN fandom:

Be kind to each other. Stop cross-posting hate in the tags. Stop sending horrid asks to other shippers. Stop harassing and attacking the actors. I’ve literally never seen a more toxic fandom space than the current war between Destiel and Wincest.

We both won. Destiel and Wincest both got an “I love you” scene either way you look at it. Neither of us got the dream ending, but we both got some beautiful moments and that is what we should take from the finale. Not all this hate and spitefulness. 

Cultivate your own spaces. Embrace your own tags and ships and communities. If you truly can’t stand seeing content from another ship, block the tags. Filter post content. Block bloggers. Its so easy, guys. Rioting and harassing and sending hate isn’t going to change what we were given, nor is it going to make your community better.

There’s a handful of fanatics on both sides doing their damndest to ruin it for everyone, and that is not the legacy we should be leaving nor how we should be embracing the end of a 15 year journey that left its mark on all of us. The actors shouldn’t be facing hate and truly horrid comments when saying goodbye to the past 15 years of their lives. 

Be kind to each other, I beg of you. Every ship got something beautiful to cherish, and that’s all that shoulder matter. 

Except Sastiel shippers. They got nothing. Please spare a thought for your local Sastiel shipper, they’re starving.

Castiel popped downstairs regularly to give Sam updates on how Dean was going and get snuggles.

Of course, due to the "time moves differently in heaven" thing the updates were along the lines of...

"Hello Sam. I thought you would like to know that he has now progressed another five inches along the road. How was your weekend at the water park?"

"Dean is currently experiencing a transient itch to his left ear lobe. It has so far lasted two weeks of time as you experience it. What are your thoughts on the cultivation of unusual colour mutations in aviculture?"

"I apologise for my absence this last month. Dean thought of a hilarious joke about glow worms and had to tell me in full. Well, he assures me it was hilarious. You know how it is, with Dean."

"I believe there is a very interesting bug about to collide with the Impala's windscreen. I don't think I like the colour of your cardigan, Sam."

my favorite wincest au? (since none of you asked)

Cop!Dean and shifter!Sam. Specifically a Leonberger/german shepherd cross k9 cop. Sam being the sweetest, most cuddliest boofer at the station or at home but becoming ferocious and down-right terrifying in the field is just ughhhhhh

and Dean has no idea Sam is a shifter, right, so he snuggles the pup and kisses him and raises Sam from a puppy, never realizing his dog is a human being who fell in love with him. Dean is suave and handsome and in high demand to women who wanna b a n g his cute ass. but he has a firm policy that if Sam doesn’t like them, he won’t date them. of course Sam likes none of them bc this is his man. Dean eventually just accepts that he’s not a dating person and the only relationship he needs in his life is his big puppy.

then, Dean gets shot on duty, bleeding to death in an aisle of a supermarket because some jackass is going on a terrorism spree. Mass shooting, people screaming, and a beautiful man with gorgeous chestnut hair calling his name are all he remembers from that day.

in the hospital Castiel, a criminal investigator and one of his best friends, lets Dean know that he’s been out for days. Shot in the heart, but saved because someone dragged him behind a display, hiding him from the shooter. And Sam is there, literally crying and whining and licking his hand, looking nervous and guilty and so, so worried…

I need this like I need air omg! Please!!

This will happen!! after my Gallbladder Surgery!!

TAG MEEEEEE

Bad idea for a Romantic Comedy The Chief of Police is married to a Mob Boss, and they have to keep “just failing” to catch each other. When one of them hits the other in a shootout, it’s followed with “Oh I’m never going to hear the end of this…”

“So how was your day at work?” “YOU FUCKING SHOT ME! THAT WAS MY DAY AT WORK!”

We clearly have different definitions of bad.

@themalhambird

you know my immediate thought is destiel but i could really see this working as wincest. :)

my favorite wincest au? (since none of you asked)

Cop!Dean and shifter!Sam. Specifically a Leonberger/german shepherd cross k9 cop. Sam being the sweetest, most cuddliest boofer at the station or at home but becoming ferocious and down-right terrifying in the field is just ughhhhhh

and Dean has no idea Sam is a shifter, right, so he snuggles the pup and kisses him and raises Sam from a puppy, never realizing his dog is a human being who fell in love with him. Dean is suave and handsome and in high demand to women who wanna b a n g his cute ass. but he has a firm policy that if Sam doesn’t like them, he won’t date them. of course Sam likes none of them bc this is his man. Dean eventually just accepts that he’s not a dating person and the only relationship he needs in his life is his big puppy.

then, Dean gets shot on duty, bleeding to death in an aisle of a supermarket because some jackass is going on a terrorism spree. Mass shooting, people screaming, and a beautiful man with gorgeous chestnut hair calling his name are all he remembers from that day.

in the hospital Castiel, a criminal investigator and one of his best friends, lets Dean know that he’s been out for days. Shot in the heart, but saved because someone dragged him behind a display, hiding him from the shooter. And Sam is there, literally crying and whining and licking his hand, looking nervous and guilty and so, so worried…

I need this like I need air omg! Please!!

*casually asks the OP permission to write this*

I LOVE IT I WANT IT

Does this really need any explanation? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 

(Okay, a little explanation, for folks who don’t wear Sam goggles, hee! Late-seasons’ Sam in early-seasons’ Sam’s wardrobe.)

@themegalosaurus @monicawoe @denugis @lipglosskaz @ameliacareful @ifisgood @sunflowerchester @soulless-puppy @caranfindel @the-megalosaurus @ilikaicalie   I think I pinged all the instigators! I LOVE YOU HORRIBLE PEOPLE.

Edit: Dang it! I forgot Sam’s belt! Ah, well. Maybe he left it in Dean’s room….

*looped around Dean's headboard (and this is adorable and I love the sketchy way you got the folds in the way the shirt's hiked up by his arm)

UGH OKAY

EVERYONE HAS THAT ONE CHARACTER

THAT DESERVES THE WHOLE WORLD BUT DOESN’T KNOW IT OR THINKS OTHERWISE

AND YOU JUST WANT TO GRAB THEM AND LET THEM KNOW HOW MUCH YOU LOVE THEM

BUT YOU CAN’T BECAUSE THEY’RE FUCKING FICTIONAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#me? talking about sam winchester? absolutely

and so you grab them and lovingly write fic about them (in which you torture them more but IT GETS BETTER and they get cuddles)

Or you don’t torture him, you make him BFF with a Recovering!Bucky Barnes because if anyone else deserves a good turn, it is Bucky Barnes and Sam Winchester.

Wot.

Oooo yes. While Tony Stark and Cas get a comforting little club room of I Tried My Best And Everyone Blamed Me.

(which, I suppose, leaves Steve and Dean to have an evening of bonding over beers and This Could All Have Been Avoided If Only Everyone Had Listened To Me.)

(… well, that was the plan, but Dean ends up being a fumbling bisexual fanboy to an embarrassing extent.)

(… fortunately Steve Rogers is outspokenly an icon for It’s Okay To Be Bi and he is adamant that he will be listened to about THIS at least)

(whoops I semi-fanficced)

(I may have written a thing, located here: https://archiveofourown.org/series/580594)

okay this is fun

an old twin peaks-inspired sketch i never posted 

so who's your cherry pie dean (cos whoever it is, let's face it, you're gonna die for him) (oops sorry)

Title: dominoes Pairing: BennyxCastielxDeanxSam Rating: Explicit Wordcount: 2,543 Notes: because @nihilfugit egged me on about (this post) <3, written for @spnpolybingo Square Filled: Cuddling

-

It’s not a night-light. Of course it’s not. If Dean just so happened to go through four alarm clocks before he found the most obnoxiously bright red digital one, then Sam’s not going to say anything about it. The clock kind of reminds him of neon motel signs insinuating their glow around the cracks of thin window curtains. It’s kind of comforting, in a way.

In what would be the absolute darkness of a windowless room, the red glow of the clock makes it easy to see the shapes of everyone on the bed when Sam half-wakes up to the sound of snoring.

Dean’s right, it’s reassuring to have a small measure of sight on first waking up. And, it makes it easy to pin-point the snoring.  

As usual, it’s Benny. The neat tucked curve of everyone around each other has been disrupted and now Benny lays on his back, smushed between Sam and Dean. He always snores when he’s on his back.

Following suit, Sam rolls over and gently nudges at Benny, gets him to roll to the other side where Dean rolled over with his arm hanging off the edge of the bed. (he was probably the first spoon to roll) As soon as Benny finds Dean to curve against and rests on his side, the snoring quiets to a raspy breathing.

It’s better.

Sam’s back is suddenly cold.

He doesn’t have long to wait until the bed shifts again and Cas is, with a few slaps and grunted curse words, finding his way to curl back around Sam.

“Do you ever tire of it Sam?”

Keep reading

I’m sorry, I just can’t help read that last word as ‘pie’.

... so that’s why Sam always forgets the pie.

"... deny thy father and refuse thy name"? Sounds like this would lead to a fight.

because sammy got monster goo all over my favourite jeans like the little shit he is

Title: Princess

Pairing: base relationship Destiel, smut DeanxCasxCainxBennyxVictor, voyeur Sam

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 2,037

Notes: AU, pwp, feminization, bottom Dean, gang bang, come play

-

“You look like a princess.”

Dean swiveled on the stool when Cas nudged his shoulders, turning him towards the mirror so he could see for himself.

He hardly recognized himself with that much makeup on. Thick black lining his eyes, jesus, how did Cas even make his lashes look that long. Cheeks a flushed pink even though his heart rate was normal and he wasn’t - not yet - aroused. Lips painted a bright bubblegum pink and so fucking shiny. So fuckable.

Sandy brown hair was still short and spiked, but nestled on top was a tiny delicate tiara.

Dean groaned, “I can’t believe you got a fucking tiara, you asshole.”

In the mirror, Dean watched Cas behind his shoulder. There was an affectionate smile on his lips as he lay his hands on Dean’s bare shoulders and bent to kiss the top of his head.

“Anything for my princess.”

Dean reached back to swat his hip. “Fuck you.”

It was supposed to be embarrassing. Well, it was a bit. But the tight little knot in his gut that wanted him to recoil from the mirror and wipe all the work Cas’d just done off, it kind of turned him on too. Even if Dean was ashamed about what he liked - how much he liked it - Cas was completely and uninhibitedly without shame.

“Come on, party’s already started,” Cas stepped back and held out a hand.

Dean rolled his eyes. Shifted around on his stool. Took Cas’ hand because he was a little wobbly in high heels. He took a second - a minute, while Cas waited patiently - to admire himself in the mirror. The high stiletto’s made his muscles tense in stark definition beneath the flimsy thigh highs. Cas had bought him the frilliest, outrageously neon pink panties for this occasion. Snug and satin across the front, there were thin rows of frilly pastel pink lace across the ass, bows stacked up the side. They were made for men, cupped him in the front, somehow made his junk look even bigger.

It was fucking weird how… masculine he could look in girly things.

Dean had spent the day being pampered by Cas. Bathed, shaved, given an enema, dolled up.

Treated like a princess.

He felt strange and vulnerable and hot inside. All day, he’d swung between stubborn rebellion against the soft treatment, and a simple kind of giddiness when he’d let himself accept it.

Twisting around for another good look - his ass was amazing - Dean put on a cocky smirk. “So, did you invite Sam?”

Honestly, he wasn’t really sure if him or Cas got off on that more.

Or Sam.

“Yes. He’ll be watching.”

Keep reading

Happy Independence Day, and to all of my non-American followers, Happy Excuse for Wincest Day!

it’s the first year they’ve been back together after Sam went away to Stanford, and they’ve missed the past three Fourth of Julies. Back when they were hunting together full time, before Sam left, they were together, in every way, when they could be. But ever since they started hunting together again, both of them have been too scared to initiate anything. They’ve both felt the sexual tension, and they both want it, but things between the two of them are still a little bit fragile, and neither of them wants to risk upsetting the balance they’ve found. And then… it’s July 4, and they’re driving away from a hunt, not heading anywhere in particular, just getting as far away as possible from the destruction they’ve left behind. Neither of them quite knows what day it is - just that it’s summer and Dean’s thrown off his jacket and is driving in only his T-shirt, his arm muscles bulging as he grips the steering wheel tight.  And that’s when they hear it. The fireworks overhead, crackling through the sky, the bursts of colored light, and they immediately both assume the worst, Dean slamming on the brakes so that the car stops and scrambling out of the Impala in fear. And then he sees the fireworks overhead, making pretty pattterns in the sky, and he gasps like he’s a kid again. “Sammy!” he shouts, running round to open Sam’s car door for him. “Sammy, I think it’s the Fourth of July!” And Sam hasn’t heard Dean’s voice quite like this in years - quite so innocent and full of life, so he gets out of the car too and stands next to Dean, close to him, maybe too close. And the two of them both stand there, staring at the display overhead, mesmerized, because neither of them would ever have suggested going to see fireworks but now that they’re here there’s nothing else they want to be doing… well, except maybe one thing. And as the grand finale starts, the biggest and best fireworks exploding overhead, Dean can’t take it any longer. He turns to Sam and he has to get on his tiptoes to kiss him - that’s new - and it’s a little bit awkward because it’s been so long and he’s forgotten how, but he manages it, and Sam’s enthusiastically kissing back, wrapping his arms around Dean and pulling him closer, and that’s when Dean grabs Sam’s leg and lifts him up onto the front of the Impala, in a practiced move they’ve done so many times before, the two of them forgetting all about the display above them because they’re too caught up with clinging tight to each other and kissing each other like it’s the last thing they’ll ever do, and, well, now there’s a whole new kind of fireworks going off.

charity-angel replied to your post “okay guys. taking fluff prompts. because I think we all need fluff.”

Gabriel buried his face in his pillow and grumbled—pulled his wings around himself—willed the blankets up to cuddle him nice and warm.

“Jus’ anoth’ five min’s,” he mumbled.

A gentle hand settled between his shoulder blades.

“Gabriel,” said a self-effacing, well-remembered voice, “it’s been five years.”

Gabriel went very still and stiff.

“… can’t a guy take some time out?” he mumbled.

“Yep,” said God. “And then he’s gotta get back in the game.”

“Crap,” muttered Gabriel. “Will there be orange quarters?”

God snickered a bit, and petted the back of his neck. “You haven’t asked who you’re playing yet.”

“Home or away?” grumbled Gabriel.

“Uh,” said God. “… there’ll probably be third base at least?”

“You suck at metaphors, Dad.”

Sam knocked on the lintel of Dean’s room, a bit self-effacing. “Uh. Hey.”

Dean blinked, and rubbed his eyes. “Huh?”

Sam grimaced, and shrugged.

Dean sat up a bit, and squinted at him.

“Huh,” he commented intelligently.

Well, sue him, it was a few years since Sam had looked at him like that, ‘cos fuck it, it had been years since they’d been, y’know, not only brothers but friends, and… huh.

Huh.

Sam raised an eyebrow, and smiled a bit. He looked… well, he wasn’t a kid anymore. This wasn’t Dean’s little brother. This was… Dean’s brother? Only more. And not little.

… not little. In more senses than one.

And he was smiling with this stupidly soft, easy expression, and a half-shrug, and suddenly the urges that Dean had suppressed for years—the gut-deep need to touch and to keep, they came surging right the hell back up, and—

Sam’s smile turned into a grin.

“There it is,” he said.

“Oh, fuck off,” said Dean, and flopped back onto the bed.

“Nuh-uh.”

Sam stalked into the room, and shut the door behind him.

“Not saying we’ve gotta, Dean,” he said, and his eyes were bright and deep. “Just well. We never did talk about it. It was always casual and—and frantic, and I think now? Now, we could do it better.”

Dean swallowed.

The bed was overflowing with lanky, sleepy, sated limbs of Winchester.

Sam’s face was tucked into Dean’s armpit. Dean’s thigh was wedged between Sam’s knees. Sam’s boxers were caught around Dean’s foot. Dean’s face was… in Castiel’s lap.

Castiel was sitting up against the headboard, fully clothed. One of his hands was combing with infinitely slow gentleness through Sam’s hair; the other cradled Dean’s head close and careful where it lay.

Gabriel cleared his throat, from where he was suddenly perched on top of the dresser.

Castiel lifted an eyebrow at him.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. Then he raked them over the two almost-naked bodies on the bed.

“So,” he observed, “didn’t see that coming back on the cards.”

Castiel shrugged, and smiled down at them in a distant, fond, yearning sort of way.

Gabriel sighed.

“I mean, I know it was a thing back when I first met them, but everything kind of went to hell—hah—after that, and, y’know. I should know, I fucked both of them before they even worked out I was the Trickster, and wasn’t that fun to play off one against the other, hah. And then there was that porn set in the TV land—“

Castiel levelled him with a “don’t you dare wake them up’ look.

Gabriel sighed in a put-upon sort of way.

“Not feeling left out at all?” he asked, pitching his voice into the ultrasonic, well below the pitches that humans could hear.

“Gabriel,” said Castiel, with a sigh, “if you think I’m not used to this—to delighting in this, to loving their love—brother, you don’t know me at all.”

Gabriel blinked slowly.

Then he reached out, and laid his hand on the end of the bed.

“Kiddo,” he said, almost gently, “what you all need? A holiday.”

He snapped.

(probably TBC at some point)

... wow. I have literally no recollection of writing this last night? I was so sleepy that I woke up in the middle of the night to find I hadn't even removed my dressing gown before falling asleep. And apparently I wrote a bit of fluff fic with wincest and future TFL? Don't know if I'm going to manage to continue it because my schedule's so full up right now, but. Uh. There it is, fwiw!