ourprofoundbond-blog

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incorrect destiel quotes

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I can now confirm that a cat’s penis is sharply barbed along its shaft. Alert the females.

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soft™

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I think not!

O.M.G.

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it’s been a while since i drew this idiot

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(via http://daggomusprime.tumblr.com/)

I needed this on my dash. Haters to the left.

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DESTIEL moments that would’ve been perfect for a first kiss And/Or a mutual love confession. AKA cry with me about all the wasted opportunities to make DESTIEL canon and curse the writers/showrunners.

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I have an inkling as to who has Misha captive…

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My heart 😫💕

kid!destiel + puns + fluff = happy halloween! 🎃

based on (x)

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I wouldn’t freak out so early. He’ll be back soon

Because they die more than once.

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Remember that time that the only person Crowley listened to was Bobby? Also, that stare…

X

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I love this sm

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x

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Oh em gee 😱

Stay Quiet

“Hey, Dean.” Castiel looked up from his paper and cup of coffee when Dean stumbled into the kitchen, still groggy from another late night working. “Can I get you some breakfast?”

Dean shook his head and went straight to the coffee pot. He poured himself a cup and doctored it to his liking before taking a seat next to Cas. He held the hot mug tightly in both hands, venturing a small sip before committing to a bigger one.

“You came in late.” Cas said. Dean didn’t acknowledge him at all, and Cas had to suppress a laugh. Fuckin’ ray of sunshine in the morning.

“Did you have a good time with Sam?”

Dean shrugged and drank more coffee.

“I’m going in for a meeting this morning, but I might be home early. Everyone’s coming for movie night tonight.”

That caught a smile at least. Castiel got up and put his dishes in the sink and then grabbed his bag by the door. Dean watched him the whole way and Cas came back to kiss him. “I love you. Text if you need anything?”

Dean nodded and laid his head on the table. Cas rubbed his back and leaned down to kiss him again, just behind the ear. “Maybe a nap?” he whispered and kissed him again before he had to go.

******************

“I don’t know why we even wasted the time on this case.” Castiel complained to Charlie as he tossed folders onto the looming stack on his desk. .

“At least they paid us for it?”

“But they essentially voted to continue alienating their customers. I don’t understand-” Castiel cut himself off and took a deep breath. “I want a better screening process. I don’t like putting my time into people who don’t actually care about their customers.”

“I know. I’ll look at the interview process and see what we can change.” Charlie said. She started out of Castiel’s office, but he spoke just as she started to close the door.

“You’re still coming tonight, right?”

Charlie popped her head back in. “Would I miss a Friday night movie?”

“Good. Dean is always happy to see you.”

Charlie nodded and cleared her throat. “So…. any progress? With Dean?”

Castiel turned his eyes back to his computer screen. This question. It was the one he hated the most and the one most frequently asked by everyone but Sam and Jess.

“He’s doing really well. He’s working with a gallery again, so he’s really happy about that.”

Charlie nodded, but didn’t push further. Cas knew she would evaluate for herself when she saw Dean that evening.

“Okay. He seems like he’s in a good place the last few times I’ve been over.”

Castiel nodded. “He is. You look at the interview stuff and I’ll close out this case, okay?”

“Sure thing.” She said, and closed the door behind her.

If someone had told Cas right after the incident that their lives would change and be better for it, he would have punched them right in the face. No shit, it changed. There was the surgery to remove the ruptured spleen and then another to put his arm back together and then physical therapy that kept him in the hospital for a few weeks. They were managing it all well, but when the doctors concluded that the loss of Dean’s speech was due to the psychological trauma and not physical injury, Cas hadn’t known what to do with that information. He knew vaguely that this had happened to Dean before, but not the details. In the meeting with the doctor and the therapist Sam and Bobby tried to reconstruct what they knew- Dean had gone three months without speaking after witnessing his mother’s death in a house fire, and almost six months after his father died in an accident that almost killed a teenage Dean and Sam as well. A nearly fatal mugging certainly fit the pattern of trauma induced selective mutism that Dean had adopted.

But now, five months in and all of his physical injuries healed, Dean and Cas had adopted a second language that only they spoke. When they were both home it was quiet. Dean no longer filled empty space with conversation, and Cas had never felt the need to in the first place. Instead they sat close and conversed through touch and an elaborate use of eye expressions. Before the incident Sam has called it eye fucking, but now it was conversation.

It was amazing how much they could say to each other now with just a look. Castiel already had three years of practice in reading Dean’s expressions, but now he was an expert. For the first few months he found himself always trying to find any hint of discomfort or stress in Dean’s face, but now he could read most everything if Dean didn’t close himself off during his depressive days.

Castiel opened files and sorted papers, consulting his computer a few times, but ultimately after several minutes had to admit to himself that he was just moving things around without actually accomplishing anything. It was okay to take a break, right? He stood and stretched, and almost on cue his phone buzzed with a text from Dean.

Going out tonight instead of movie

Everyone is already planning to come to our place.

They are coming with us. Dinner

Everyone?

Yes

Do I need to make a reservation?

Sam did

Okay. I will be home soon. Did you catch a nap?

I’m working

Cas sat back down in his chair. He needed to work too, but he just couldn’t think. After looking around at the stacks he’d made earlier, he made a deal with himself to leave as soon as he closed out the case.

Keep reading

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Michael: Have you ever read something so explicit that you feel like you need to go to church and stay there for a year?

Lucifer: Send it to me.