“How about,” Castiel said, his eyes flicking away, then back, “I show you.”
Dean’s jaw actually fell open. “Wh― What, you mean, uh…”
“Kissing.”
Dean’s insides curled and twisted, and hell yes―
HOW DARE YOU GIVE ME THIS ADORBS
not fair fic not fair at all
It’s Johnlock.
It’s fairly short (just under 1,000 words).
It’s sweet (and, hopefully, fresh-from-the-oven hot).
It’s chocolate chip cookie/biscuit porn without plot! (Rated T)
(Because the food porn adamngoodbatch sends across my dash is so, um, inspiring!)
I don’t know who will be reading these pieces of paper.
Dean—if, by some sick cosmic joke, I bit the dust before you, and it’s you holding these pages—then this is for you. If we both go out together, if it’s you, Cas, reading this, then this is for you. If all three of us are gone, as I almost hope we will be, and if you’re a friend or a total stranger trying to decipher my crappy handwriting, then this, I suppose, is for you.
What I do know is that regardless of who you are, by now, I’m dead. I’ll have hidden this well enough. Hidden, because as it stands right now, these are things I can’t say. So I’m leaving them behind, for whoever, for whenever I finally go for good.
I feel like I need to explain myself.
link to full work of twist and shout but dont click this
so i jumped on the bandwagon once again and gave you something angsty
omfg after months of crying while listening to elvis I come across a whole soundtrack thingy for this soul ripping fic?
who’s ready to cry some more while re-reading t&s?
that would be me
to cheer me up i’m reading this amazing fluffy fic
i read up until chapter 16 where it all ends happy and hyperfluffy
but the author let us know that next few chapters are not so fluffy
and it’s a wip
and i don’t know if i should keep reading or wait until it’s complete
i need fluffity fluff
WHAT TO DO
With only about fifteen percent of the Earth population angelic, a kind of obsession with angel wings has flourished and some people take it a step further to a sexual fetish that Gabriel’s used to his advantage many a time. But why give it away for free when they could charge money?
must admit I’d most definitely be part of the people that take it a step further
“You’re going the wrong way,” John continued, turning.
“No I’m not.”
John sighed and let his hands flop to his sides.
“You don’t even know what pub I go to.”
“Sure I do. You go to The Last Drop on Grassmarket Avenue, a seven minute walk from here.”
and then I went there and I started to fangirl like a crazy person
“You don’t want to fuck Castiel!” Sam accuses.
Castiel’s eyes widen slightly.
“What? Shut up, yes, I do,” Dean snarls, but it’s so clearly a lie. He looks Castiel up and down, obviously trying jumpstart a reaction out of his dick, but Sam can see it’s not working.
“Oh my god, you do want to screw Cas,” he moans.
aaahhh this is the fluff
“He asked me if I was with anyone. I told him I was always with you. And with Sam to a lesser degree.”
Summary: Almost two years after the world doesn’t end, Castiel falls from grace—and loses his voice in the process. It is the impetus for confession and change; before long, he is settling into a loving relationship with Dean, the Winchesters are tired, and hunting for a place to land has taken precedence to hunting anything else. Dean and Castiel fall in love with the strange little house on the end of Swallowtail Drive, and for a little while life is as it should be—sweet, affectionate, and beginning afresh.
But more and more Castiel sees and hears things in the house that beg the question of whether or not a place itself can be alive. The walls and rooms seem to shift and grow and breathe, and one night, Dean comes home from a hunt changed in a way that Castiel cannot explain. In the months that follow, their domestic bliss takes turns for the dark and sour, and the confusion of their circumstances will ultimately test everything Castiel knows about the man he loves, and everything he believes to be true.
The inexhaustible silence of houses more like Read this and your heart will be stomped on and your eyes will burn from days on end and you’ll get feels and feels and die a slow painful death with agony, heartache and dehydration
“I held your soul in my possession and purposefully left my mark so that all who looked upon it would know that I was the one who raised you from damnation. You are my masterpiece and my signature is etched into every cell in your body, written into your very DNA”…
this is the awesome smut that is comforting me after the Twist and Shout angst beast
“Yeah, well, I figured that God and I had a good arrangement,” Dean scowls at him. The whisky is warming him up, loosening his tongue, and Dean is pretty sure that talking now is a bad idea, but he couldn’t help himself even if he tried. “I get rid of monsters for His flock, and He’ll let me drink and use His name in vain now and then.”
“There is no such arrangement.”
I’m crying, I’m laughing, I just don’t know anymore
