freakstiel-truther

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wake up guys it's meat off the floor monday

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Lanfranco Quadrio (Italian, 1966), Quattro ali di libellula [Four dragonfly wings], 2016.

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"cas is just some guy to everyone but dean" he's literally got what they call sex appeal

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Lilith is not behind this. She wouldn't kill seven angels. Oh, she'd kill a hundred, a thousand.

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4.20 The Rapture

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Franz von Stuck - Shooting Stars, 1912.

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My girl #mygirl

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🐟🐟🌕🐟🐟🐟🐟 // swallowtail shiners // gouache on hot press paper

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shut your eyes

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me this morning:

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first fics/first lines

tagged by @ragdollysammy, thank you so much!!! i am losing my mind at your pre-series mary fic. and the art for it too....AWOOGA

A Communal Digging of a Very Shallow Grave (canon divergent. rated e. dean/cas)

Clumps of snow melt around the hay fields like poorly spread butter. As the sun rises it catches on the edges of frost and throws itself outwards. It is ravens, too big to be crows, who hold a silent conference in the cottonwoods lining an irrigation ditch. For once, smoke rising from the distance isn't from a grave or pyre, but just another decrepit Kansas farmhouse. The sun builds, the snow drips. Mud swallows the earth. This is the world Dean comes back to, when he comes back to his body. It's all he can do, listen to his heartbeat with the cold bite of the passenger side window against his cheek. It's poetic and stupid, to die in winter and come back in spring. To lose a son of God and gain a heartbeat, a very full bladder, questions about friends and family, a sickness (that's just itchiness), that just means take a goddamn shower, and guilt. It's too much, and before they hit the next mile marker Dean shuts his eyes against it. The light, the snow, the grass, the road; pathetic, these basic building blocks of human perception rendered chopped and blurry like an old video game. In the darkness he lets out a breath. Focuses on the little things; the vinyl under his sore ass, the stale air in his mouth, Sam's breathing, the sound of the wind, the engine, the highway rumble.

If you like Hell trauma (suffered by both Dean AND Cas), Dean being driven insane by the bunker being full of Apocalypse World survivors, as well as possession metaphysics, Mary exploration, and old married couple...flirting? bickering? this one is for you! I cheated and put the first two paragraphs, but this is my only fic I figured I'm allowed a little leeway lol.

tagging @whiskeyjuniper, @handsliketruth, @shallowseeker, @bloodydeanwinchester, @shineforthee, @autisticandroids, @nyc-pizza-rat, and any other writers who would like to!

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sleeping positions that fuck up your spine feel so good for no reason it’s literally the devil’s deepest temptation

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