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up to your interpretation of when this takes place

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Quick sketch for @norestwithoutlove 's wip Devil, I Defy Thee!!

Hi, yes, I'm obsessed

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x-men art i never posted 🤲

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the amount of times dean has to remind sam and everyone else around him that he does read. baby you are so much more than a ged and a can do attitude, i'm so sorry everyone makes you feel like this

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I'm once again obsessed with drawing Castiel's side profile <3

ref | patreon | ko-fi

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Who is more devoid of emotion, Kirsh [Alien: Earth] or Agent 47 [Hitman]?

TIMOTHY OLYPHANT Comicbook.com | SDCC 2025

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siblings.

Support me on Patreon!

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1. Waist up in profile of Sam sitting at the desk in his bedroom at the bunker, typing on a laptop that looks like it might be open to Tumblr. The closed door to the room is visible on the wall behind him. 2. Repeat. Dean suddenly slams the door open with purpose, arms splayed wide, causing Sam to pause and look up. 3a. Full body of Dean as he pulls his let leg up and leans down slightly, grabbing the toe of his boot with his right hand. 3b. Repeat. Still holding his left leg, Dean leaps into the air and brings his right leg through the loop created by his left leg and right arm. 3c. Repeat. He lands gracefully on his right foot and straightens proudly, striking a brief pose. 4. Back to the profile shot of Sam, who is now sitting back in his chair and staring, confused, at this performance. Dean turns his back without a word and walks back out of the room, hitting the light switch on the way out. 5. Repeat. Sam, now in a dark room with the door wide open, throws his palms up at the now-empty doorway in confused disbelief and frustration. /end ID

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Dean was sprawled across the bed, legs stretched out and boots long forgotten somewhere near the door. An ancient-looking lore book was casually held in his hand, full of yellowed pages and tiny cramped handwriting. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he tried to decipher some faded passage on Norse banshees or… maybe it was Latvian wraiths. Hard to tell with all the chicken-scratch Latin.

And sprawled on top of him like an extremely heavy, incredibly warm, celestial weighted blanket was Castiel.

"Cas," Dean murmured, shifting slightly. "You're kinda heavy, buddy."

Cas hummed sleepily, not moving an inch. "I like it here."

"Yeah, I figured," Dean grumbled, even as his free hand reached up to absently stroke Cas’s hair. It was stupidly soft. Like angel-fabric soft. "You know I’m trying to work, right? There are actual monsters eating actual people."

"You're warm," Cas mumbled into his shirt. "And you smell like pie."

Dean rolled his eyes and gave an exasperated huff. “Great. I’m a space heater and a dessert buffet.”

Cas didn't respond. His breathing had evened out and his grip tightened slightly, like he was afraid Dean might actually try to move. Which he wasn’t. Not really.

Dean stared down at the page, squinting at a paragraph that might have been helpful. He shifted the book to the side, trying to read around the top of Cas’s head. The angel made a sleepy, annoyed noise and nuzzled in deeper.

Dean gave up.

“Fine. But if someone dies because I didn’t read page eighty-six, it’s on you.”

Cas didn’t answer. He was already asleep.

Dean sighed, leaned his head back against the headboard and let the book fall closed with a soft thump. Outside, a cicada buzzed lazily. Inside, the only sound was the quiet rhythm of two heartbeats and the soft exhale of an angel in love.

Dean didn’t really mind the interruption.

Not at all.

💚💙💚

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Panel redrawww

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love it when he just flies away mid conversation

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unfortunately there is no second base

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michael fassbender offering to dye his hair a stark white for magneto and those dummies at fox said 'nah i think we're good' x men apocalypse i hate u

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no more keeping score

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a (yearning) knight and his prince(s)

i made a sort of part two

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i’ve experienced more yearning and tension in my DREAMS than i have real life

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his hair. his smile. his arms. EVERYTHING about him is so yummy yummy!!