Movin’ on up to the East Side! To a de-luxe apartment in the skyyyyy! Dean went and moved away babes. Needed a change. Ask if you want my new blog.

. muse is of age. mun is older. . crossovers and oc’s welcome. . skype available upon request.

via @flameinheaven (via samattheend)

i believe you’ve won + heywinchester-manup

   Grab the clock, Castiel. What’s the time, Castiel? Drag my fat ass out of Hell, Castiel. Nag, nag. If he had his grace… and yet. Cas reaches blindly and finds the clock after a good search. He twists it, looks into it’s face and sighs, “Morning.” Then unceremoniously, he drops it at some random location near the bed. On the floor. He’s sure he broke it.

Don’t boss him next time.

Takes to his pillow. He’s spent but he’s also angry because he knows where Dean’s mind is. Decidedly not on Castiel or their shared nudity and biblical violations where it clearly should be, “I’m going with you.”

Dean's already tackling the day in his head. He's got patrol, he's gotta train. Find a sparring partner or at least somebody to spot him since the bad's keep getting badder. Can't cast a vote for Buffy. No, not after how he left things with her and Sam, well Sam's preoccupied banging Ursula.

The crash of a shattered clock gets his attention while he's buttoning his jeans, makes him throw a look back at Cas, "Dude, that's an antique. I just polished that thing..." ziiiip, "We been over this before, can't risk you out there. Not sans grace."

Little R&R + samattheend

Sam’s carrying a white plastic bag of way too much dinner for two guys. Hot on Dean’s heels as always because their twin powers don’t work when they get too far apart. That was a joke. Dude, that was a… nevermind, back to the story, “Dean, what did you expect? You threatened to shoot their eyebrows off.”

He wants to think of a snark or sass to hit Dean with because he’s been pretty quiet about the fumble of the last job until now but he’s thinking too hard walks right into a cobweb at the bottom of the stairs, “Whoa, ahh.” There are comical hands and a spin involved, “What the hell?”

The spin doesn't go unnoticed, "Oh, you dance Esmeralda. Gimme that," Dean tugs the take away out of Sam's hand as he heads through the library, tosses the bag on the table and gets the hell out of his dirty, bloody jacket, "No way. You're not dancing my dinner all over the floor. This job, man. This job. I earned it."

Chucks that jacket on the closest chair and Sam gets barely a glance, Dean's already pulling a burger in silver foil out of the bag. He grins and winks at it, "Hello Beautiful."

A little Christmas cheer | Buffy & Dean

“Shortcut. First syllable, ‘short’. We’re in the middle of nowhere and… Wow.” And just like that, being lost is the least of Buffy’s concerns. She’s blinked her way from a nightmare into a fairytale and all of a sudden the better question becomes, who wouldn’t want to get lost on a night like this?

Except they’re not lost, are they? No, Dean’s wearing some kind of smug look that lets her know they’re where they’re meant to be and if Buffy’s ever felt like an idiot, now would be it, “Wooow.” She’s gazing out the window in awe, fingertips lightly pressed against the window she’s sat next to as if she was five years old again, “Dean, it’s beautiful.”

“Okay, you win. I’m impressed.”

Yeah, eh. He can't keep up smug!Dean forever. Naw, not when his baby's so happy. This is something real special, having his girl here. Riding shotgun in Dolly. Real live Christmas right outside the window. It's kinda perfect. Almost.

Gettin' cold, even bundled up but Dean's got a secret weapon. He leans to get a lunchbox near his feet, makes for crappy driving but it's worth it. Snaps it open and takes something out and it's wrapped up in a baby blanket, "Ah? See, I'm good for somethin'." he unwraps it. Red thermos and it's still warm thanks to that blanket. He unscrews the cap, pops the cork and pours out a shot of hot cocoa in the cap, "Here, take this. Gonna freeze to death this cold snap keeps up."

Send ‘*’ to kiss my muse full on the lips.