Latest Posts by greendeanwinchester - Page 3
nov 5 is anniversary dinner at the winchester household but it's like..no one talks about it. everyone gets together but they pretend like it's because it's just. you know. a regular coincidence! we're just hanging out! we didn't even look at the calendar! they're all laughing too loud and forcing jokes and being overly casual about it.
dean gets real quiet when there's a break in conversation or when he's alone. cas gets this look in his eyes like he's not where he is. if they can't bear to be separated on the day, well. no one has to know. or even if they do, no one mentions it. so they eat one handed and they hold hands under the table until their knuckles are turning white and they're just standing pressed together when they're supposed to be doing the dishes and they DON'T talk because they still can't figure out how to sometimes and today is definitely the day that is sometimes. and if they get hugged extra tight when everyone leaves, well. they don't mention it. they're grateful but they don't talk about it.
the first year, it's almost a wake in the house. well, there was no house then, but there was the bunker, and it was home. but yes. it was almost a wake, disguised as a celebration. they'd all crowded around the map table, sitting in chairs and on the surface and trading stupid stories and playing boardgames and throwing scrabble tiles at each other because that's not a fucking word, dean and then even when they'd tired of the act, they just sort of sat together and drank and said nothing like it was agreed upon beforehand that they weren't gonna let dean and cas be alone and dean had been so grateful he didn't know what to do with it. it was like this grief wasn't supposed to be there, you know? but it was. it was. and there was no ignoring it. but you couldn't let it drown you so you did what you could.
the year after that is more of the same, though the house had emptied before midnight . and yes there was a house by then. and a porch swing and deck chairs and kitchen windows and her gardens and retirement, even though dean didn't think he'd ever get used to the taste of that word in his mouth. dean woke up that year with a pit in his stomach and he'd panicked because cas wasn't there, cas wasn't touching him, cas was gone , gone, gone, but then he'd blinked his eyes open to see that cas had just curled away from him in the night, was still here, sleeping, soft and open mouthed, and dean could touch him without straightening the bend in his elbow and he did and he tugged until they were pressed together again and he'd closed his eyes and sighed. cas went somewhere far away during the day, and dean thought he was going to suffocate in the house because he didn't know how to bring him back, to make him aware of the ground under his feet. but then his family was there, filing into the house somewhere around noon, in groups of twos and threes. they brought food and wine and movies and they pulled at the arms of the men who'd turned hollow-eyed until something like light slipped back into them.
it's the third year now, and the dishes are drying on the rack and the house is emptied of its guests and the quiet is just a little bit more bearable than it was the year before but somehow that feels like enough, because dean's not drowning and neither is cas, even if the water pulls at their legs, and that's a damn win in his book. dean checks the locks on the doors and the windows of his house and brings cas an afghan, drapes it over his shoulders, pulls him close until he's lying back against dean's chest on the couch. and they turn on the tv and it's the kind of shitty programming that comes on when it's after halloween and not yet christmas and it's pushing 2 am on the oven clock, but it's good white noise, and sometimes cas laughs and dean feels it against his chest, in his bones, and he thinks that's all it's about anyway. that laugh's kind of the point of everything. so he sighs and hooks his shoulder on Cas' chin and doesn't say how scared he is, sometimes, even now, or how he doesn't want to close his eyes tonight, because he's not sure what he'll wake up to tomorrow and doesn't say that there's something stinging the back of his eye even if there's no reason for it. instead he just slips his fingers through Cas' and buries his nose in cas ' hair and breathes. and well, isn't that a miracle.
I love this so much
‘The Profound Bond’ - A new romantic comedy starring Jensen Ackles and Misha Collins. When Federal Agent Dean Winchester gets paired with an angel as part of the Bureau’s new Human-Angel Cooperation Initiative, the partnership seems less than ideal. Castiel is arrogant, painfully inept in the ways of normal human interaction, and less than stellar at routine questioning. But as time passes, the human and angel begin to find themselves growing less at odds and more endeared to each other. Loosely inspired by aesc’s Below Skyscrapers. (Watch on Youtube)
Bippity boppity bro
You are now abro
Bippity boppity bay
You are now gay
Bippity boppity bluid
You are now genderfluid
Bippity boppity bay
You are now gay
Bippity boppity boly
You are now poly
Bippity boppity bay
You are now gay
all Spanish canon and no English canon make me a crazy boy
tomorrow I will be shaking, quaking, frothing at the mouth because of the gay people
okay, but why isn't there an apocalyptic movie/book where the protagonist becomes a bee keeper?
there's just something about beanpole characters. I could just give them a nice hug, or I could snap their spine in half
Google Ambient Chaos if you ever need background noises for writing! It's a customizable soundscape website.
Anon, when I first saw this ask, I thought it was going to be one of those mixers of nice, traditional sounds, like rain or a coffeeshop. And it is! And there's lofi hiphop, my favorite sound to write to! Which means this is legitimately an excellent tool for writers, and I love you for introducing it to me.
But I also want to say. There are some choices here. That I need to point out. Because they're either fantastic or questionable, and I can't decide.
Things like . . .
Couple arguing.
Medieval battle.
Beehive, where you can write to a fuckton of bees.
Crime scene.
And actually the perfect soundscape for NaNoWriMo.
(It's here, for those curious.)
So I found a warning sign generator...
!["Caution" sign, with an image of a crossed-out bath and shower, and an image of a human wearing a gas mask: "Smash tourney in progress [line break] Wear appreciate PPE"](https://64.media.tumblr.com/a162325d0e4cb7cf94358d8f9702a683/ce2eb0d45a7d6318-d1/s500x750/a4ac8ffc531d741e89f8445398b39701f3fa0b95.png)
(IDs in alt)
Anyone who wants to make their own, I used this:
“Modern Fairytale” by Syd and Olivia
Once upon a time in the Enchanted Wood, right next to the Sugar Plum Zoo, a pair of little twins did share a bed; a bed the size of a shoe. And every day and every night they’d do what little twins do. They’d play in the forest, and plant a big seed, they’d bake a big bread, and they’d frolic in glee.
Thenst one day, a giant did step on their father’s big, burly, busty silhouette. And so, the twins were left with just step-mother, and she had plans for them. Plans of other.
For evil step-witch did not want any twins. She sent them away to the University of Michigan.
“Now, this is how you will have a 401k. You will go to college, and find a job one day. It will be very simple, for it was when I was young, and then you’ll own a home with your very own sons.”
“We’re daughters,” said the twins.
“Oh shit, I didn’t notice. What were your names also? I don’t think the authors mentioned them at the top of this tale,” asked the step-mother. Evil, but always offering very constructive criticism.
“My name is Piper,” said the daughter on the right, filled with chutzpah and up for a good fight. She had hair of bright red and a face full of freckles. She sang to the birds. Her sister was named Sheckles.
“Well, Piper and Sheckles, go thee away and pick a major that will help you someday,” the step-witch threw the children out from the roof, and then she did push them off of the roof. The children did fall and landed in Michigan.
So Piper and Sheckles skipped through the grass. They found a lily pad; the home of their first class.
A toad was their teacher. His name was Miss Toad. Long live Miss Toad.
Miss Toad sang a song to all of the class and it went like this, tweedle-dee, tweedle-dass.
Miss Toad’s Song (To The Tune of Despacito).
“Hello children, hello kids.
My name’s Miss Toad, and here’s all my biz.
You made a good choice by coming to college,
It is the ONLY choice from my knowledge.
For with a degree, you’re like a big tree.
The degree is a seed, but the tree could be thee.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” asked the twins.
“Oh, shut up, you twins. You stupid, stupid, twins, and listen to my beautiful song.
For if you don’t listen and don’t graduate,
Your future will be all wrong.
And if you have a degree and some learning from me,
You can own a home in twenty-seven days flat.
And if you study your math, and go to each clath,
You will get all your dreams just like that-”
The song ended abruptly as a hawk came in and ate Miss Toad.
Piper and Sheckles swore to finish their education at the University of Michigan to honour the late Miss Toad. All hail Miss Toad who simply did not live as long as we wanted.
So they took their school seeds and put them in dirt. And for four years the seeds did grow. And they watered the seeds, and rushed a sorority, and the seeds continued to grow.
And then one day after four years of talk, the seeds became six-foot-five beanstalks, and Piper and Sheckles wiggled with glee.
“I wonder, oh, what’s in my beanstalk for me?”
Piper climbed it first, she liked to fight. She climbed up her beanstalk, and climbed it just right. Once at the top, she peeled back the leaves to see what had grown from her college degree.
But nothing at all. It was just dust.
Just dirt, and dust, and betrayal of trust. And a ghost, yest a ghost. The ghost of Miss Toad climbed out of the beanstalk that had just growed.
“Miss Toad, or your ghost, I don’t understand?” said Piper, with a whole lot of nothing in hand.
“Well Piper, this is called a BFA. It’s worth nothing, and you owe me one-hundred-thousand dollars today,” said Miss Toad, as he hit Piper in the shins with one of those riding crop things.
Sheckles called from across the way, “Sister, there’s nothing in my beanstalk for may!”
“Miss Toad made promises of owning a home, but now I just owe one-hundred-thousand dollars, and his ghost is hitting me in the shins with one of those riding crop things.”
So the twins did jump from their beanstalks so high and said, “We’ll figure out how to survive.”
But they were not the first and they’ll not be the last to pay off student debt until they die.
They went to jobs mouse and asked for a job, and the mouse said, “A job, now what is a job? You must have three-to-four years working at this before you can get your first job at this.”
“What?” said the twins.
“Exactly!” he said.
So the twins walked down the road. The found the realestate badger, the badger of realestate, to find our young couple a house. Now they date.
The twins, yes the twins, and a couple as well, said, “How do we purchase a house? What the hell?”
“Well, you must pay in breadcrumbs, of which there are none, as we are in the middle of a recession. When I was a cub in the 1960s, I brought this cottage for four breadcrumbs, and now Zillow says it’s worth 3.46 million breadcrumbs and there isn’t even in-unit laundry. By the way, the federal minimum wage is seven breadcrumbs and twenty-five cents an hour before tax.”
“Oh, whoopsie no, and whoopidey no!” said Piper, the feisty young twin, “Let us go to the only parent we know. See if she can help us win.”
So they went to their wicked step-mother indeed and said, “Dearest step-witch, we are in need. We tried to do things the way you said, and now the ghost of Miss Toad has a price on our head.”
The wicked step-mother looked them up and down.
She said, “This is your fault,” and began to frown, “You were the ones who listened to me, and that is your fault, zipedeedee. But listen to me now, for this is quite right. The vaccine is filled with microchips, and blue lives matter, global warming isn’t real, but if it is, it’s your fault. Good luck having your own sons in this burning rubble of a failed society, you cucks. I’m on bath salts.”
Then the wicked step-mother did jump off the roof, and run to the polls to vote for Jeffery Epstein Dead Sex-Offender for President of the United States of the Enchanted Wood right next to the Sugar Plum Zoo.
And as the world started to burn, Piper asked Sheckles, “What did we learn?”
“Well, my good Piper,” Sheckles did say, “We learned that the world is not okay. So, our step-mom’s on bath salts, and we owe a ghost money. What do we do, my twin and my honey?”
So the twins made passionate sweet, sweet, love on a mushroom outside of a shoe. And that’s where our tale ends, sweet child of mine.
Now tell me please, what do I do?
Season 11 [gag reel]
for @billiewena‘s birthday bash → bestiesnatural
based on the comic by @pencilscratchins in their Kevin and the Wonder Twins zine!
How do I unequip depression? I've tried pressing all the buttons and it is not working.