dudewheresmypie

hellooo lovelies. since i missed to make a follow forever when i hit 3k a while ago, i want to make one now at the end of this very strange and kinda crappy year. thank you guys, for always brightening up my dash and day :) i love you and i wish you all a happy new year ♥♥

mutuals are bolded

a-c

@adamkdriver @adoringjensen | @almaasi | @archangcl |  @archangeles@astraliscas @auroracas@bittercasblogger | @blissfulcastiel | @bloodynovak@bobbysidjit @boykingdom | @bradleeyjamess | @breathedean |  @brinchestiel | @cassammydean | @castellation | @casthegrumpy@castiell | @castieltherebel@charlie-minion | @chevroletdean | @cinnamonmish | @constiellation | @corteasolo |  @crowlleye 

d-g

@dammitjensen | @deanandhiscas | @deanscolette | @deanssunshine | @deanwinchestar@destieldrabblesdaily | @destieliebe @devilcastiel | @devoutdean | @donestiel | @drahgons | @dreamingsam | @dudewheresmypie | @eldrson |  @endversecas | @envydean | @faithcastiel | @feuwise@featherlesscas | @firelitcas@flockstiel | @flowerscas | @fucktoydean@fvckingjensen | @gabricl@galaxystiel

h-m

@hallowedbecastiel | @heavensendcas @hopestiel | @hclywinchesters |  @inacatastrophicmind | @instaskams @jenmish | @jimminovak | @jimmynovsk | @katteens | @khaleesee | @loudmindquietlips | @ltnivans | @lucifeur | @magneticcas | @mastersmeg@metalicar | @mintycas @mirthfulcas | @misha-collins | @mishcollin | @mishacoliins @mishpala | @moaningmish | @muffincastiel | @mycocklestiel 

n-r

@naijahra | @nerdanqel | @nerdjensen@novakscas |  @obsidiandean | @ontrenzalore | @peggycarthr@pennyackles | @poedameron | @preciousmish |  @princesscas | @protectcastiel | @puppycastiel | @radiatecas | @raisecas | @rcmuslvpin@rebelamy | @rebelrowena | @redeemcas | @reichanbach@rosestiel | @rosetylr 

s

@sassydean | @savingchesters | @scentofyesterday @semperdean | @seraphmisha | @snowflakebenny | @snowywinchesters | @snugglejensen | @some-people-call-it-tragic | @sparksflycastiel | @stardustsam | @starfallensam | @starlightmish |  @starryreys | @starsdean | @stolenimpala | @strengthcas | @submissivedean | @suckmywinchester | @sugarjared | @suvis 

t-w

@tabbycas@targayrens | @tattooedsam | @thebloggerbloggerfun | @thickmisha | @truthcas | @ultravioletcas | @unicornmish | @unwinchesters@whoismisha | @wildcas | @winchcester | @winchsteres | @winvhesters @wonderfulcas  

DeanCas coda to 12.04 “American Nightmare”

“So, you’ll never guess what happened to me today.”

What?

They do this now; sit on separate beds, miles away from one another, and talk. It’s uncomfortable—Dean’s face is always hot where it’s pressed against his phone, and Cas’s voice is a ghost of itself over the tinny line, but they make do. This isn’t the first time they’ve been apart and it won’t be the last. A little time apart is healthy, right?

That’s hard to remember when, ridiculously, all Dean wants is to have someone hold him.

“The wiccan I thought was a witch—Beth, you remember me talking about her? She gave me her number.”

Silence.

“Uh, Cas? You there?”

“I’m here.” Dean frowns at the far-away sounding response, listening intently to the rustle of fabric as Cas settles and re-settles on whatever starched motel bed he’s found himself for the night. The angel still doesn’t need sleep, but apparently, having his own space is the only way he’s managing to stay sane on his weird little roadtrip thing with Crowley (which Dean is totally not bitter about, by the way). “Um…” Cas clear his throat. “What will you do with it?”

A frown. “Like, what’ll I do with the number? Nothing. Why,” he asks, cautious. “Do you… think I should call her?”

They haven’t had time to talk about it. Between Amara and Chuck and Mom and Lucifer, Dean’s barely had a second to wipe his ass, let alone have a Grown Up Conversation about where exactly he and Cas stand. They touch a lot, and they kiss a lot, and sometimes they fuck, but they’ve never actually said the words dating or relationship. Not that Dean’s necessarily complaining; that shit’s always ended in tears, but… he kind of thought he and Cas were on the same page for this.

“…If you want to call her,” Castiel finally says. “You should.”

Dean grits his teeth. “Wow, Cas, way to make a guy feel special.”

The freaking angel has the gall to sigh on the other end. “What are you talking about.

“What’m I—” the hunter cuts himself off, shaking his head as his hands turn to fists. “I thought we were both knew what we were getting ourselves into, here, but I guess not. I guess I didn’t get the goddamn memo.”

Excuse me? You’re the one who told me about a woman giving you her phone number!”

“Yeah, Cas!” Dean exclaims. “I told you about my day. I shared something with you because I thought it was something we could laugh about—haha isn’t this so hilarious because I’m 100% committed to you. But here you are fucking telling me to call her so I guess I really missed the mark on that one.”

Dean—”

“No. You’re always wanting me to talk? Fine. This case was so fucked Sam and I had to down six fingers just to stop fucking shaking. I was so friggin’ stubborn a social worker thought I was flirting when I went to her office to kill her, and I was so fucked up over the mom thing, I almost fucking lost Sam. A kid fucking died because I wasn’t there. Hell, the only light at the end of the tunnel was one kid got away safe, and Mom texted me back, but even though I get why she left she’s still gone. You’re still gone. And I know, okay; I’m an asshole who doesn’t treat you half as good as I should, but jesus I thought we both knew what we were doing, here.”

Dean,” Cas says weakly.

Dean stubbornly wipes a hand down his face, taking the moisture on his cheeks with it. “Fuck, I just… I fuckin’ miss you, man. But if this ain’t gonna work out, you tell me, here and now, because I don’t think I can—” his breath hitches and he swallows the rest of his sentence, biting his lip in an attempt to keep it together. How the hell did this happen?

Dean, I’m not—I don’t—” Cas’s breath rattles through the speaker, and Dean’s chest turns cold. “…I’m sorry about your case,” the angel finally says. “I’m sorry about your mother. I’m sorry I misunderstood, but I.” He pauses, collecting himself. When he speaks next, his voice is a low croak. “I don’t want to overstep. I don’t want—”

To get kicked out again, Dean’s mind finishes. He feels his heart sink.

“Listen to me,” he says—firm, brooking no argument. “You can’t overstep. Cas, I-I want you here, for every beginning, middle and end of every day. I wanna fuckin’ make you breakfast in the morning and go to sleep with you at night, and I want people to stop giving me their numbers ’cause I can’t help holding your hand while we’re on cases. I just…”

Me too,” the angel murmurs, suddenly all sweet and shy.

Dean bites his lip, ducking his head in a nod while his ears flare red. “Um,” he mumbles. His heart is gonna crack his ribs for how hard it’s pounding. He licks his lips. “So, uh, find that SOB so you can come home, huh?”

Cas is smiling so bright, Dean can practically hear him over the phone. “I will,” he says.

“Great. Cool. I, ah. I love you.”

I love you, too, Dean.”

Hey! So I hit 2k this week, and ????? Thank you for putting up with me i just….¯\_(ツ)_/¯


mutuals, no faves bc ur all my faves tbh

 @acklesadmiration@acklesjensen@angelcatsiel, @arcshade083, @atelophobi-yay, @backseats-serenades-hurricanes, @bbycas@boyfrienddean, @brinchestiel, @cas-you-assbutt-dean-needs-you, @casthartic, @casthegrumpy@castiel-knight-of-hell, @castielsweetness, @casxade@chaoticcas@coloursam, @crabackles, @cutiepiemish@cvddlecas, @daftcas, @deanonaplane,  @deanscolette@deansmuffin, @deanwsexual, @deanyw,  @deathstiel, @destiel-and-moose, @devoutdean, @dollstiel@doomedbrothers, @dreamyjensen@drowninginthefeels @dudewheresmypie@elegantdean, @enochiansubtext, @fawnjensen, @firestartercas, @flowerscas,@fluffydestiel@fvckingjensen

G-M
@gabricl, @galaxyscas, @galaxystiel, @grumpycas, @hallowedbecastiel, @hangsabove, @hclywinchesters, @heterophobicdean, @honeywincest, @humblesam, @i-miss-castiel, @ibelieveinthelittletreetopper@imperfectcas, @jarpadsnackles, @jenmish,@jenmisheel, @jensennjared, @judecas@justjensenanddean@kittiecas, @leviathncas@livebloggingmydescentintomadness, @lucycas, @mafiadean @mishpala, @moaningjensen, @mooseleys,@mundanecas

N-S
@naomi-says-it-loud@nursedean, @pennyackles, @phantasticdestiel, @poedamyron, @pretentiosity@poeticcas, @prettyackles,@princesscas@protectcastiel, @puppymish, @radiantdean, @rosymish, @royalrowena, @samtulip@savingchesters, @seraphmisha@soullesshunters,@sparksflycastiel, @stardustsam, @stardvstcas @stargazingcas, @staystiel@stolenimpala, @strengthcas, @sunrisejared

T-Z
@tabbycas, @tattooedbucky, @tattooeddean, @tequilasdean, @themishreach,  @thewinchesterdaily, @travellingcastiel, @trulycas, @unfortunatecas,  @unholyseraphs, @valiantcastiel, @vodkamisha, @wanderesslexa, @yaelstiel, @yourfavoritedirector

DeanCas Coda to 12.06: Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox. Special thanks to @dudewheresmypie​ for that line.

There’s a buzzing against his thigh, and Dean barely has to do acrobatics to fish the damn thing from his pocket.  One look at the Caller ID makes him light up from the inside out. “Uh, sorry, I gotta—”

Jody smirks at him as he all but trips out of his Tim Horton’s chair, cursing the Canadians and their weird obsession with this dumbass Dunkin’ Donuts wannabe. What’s wrong with swivel chairs and goddamn diner booths? Making a huge show of clearing his throat in an attempt to cover his beet red face, Dean nods awkwardly at his mom and Sammy before stumbling towards the door.

“Cas?” Even to his ears, he sounds breathless and excited, but he barely has time to be embarrassed because Cas is murmuring his hello Dean, and Dean is a total goner.

“Hey,” the hunter smiles. He makes his way across the parking lot and leans against his Baby’s side. “What’s up, Sunshine?”

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“Jesus, she’s like a candy magnet.”

Cas grins at the large bag his husband empties the large bag onto their kitchen table, leaving a veritable mountain of sweets in its wake. Turning to nuzzle their one year-old, he blows a raspberry in her neck, laughing as she shrieks in delight. “Are you a candy magnet, Mary?” he asks, lips against her soft skin. She reaches for his hair. “Hm?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Are you kidding?” Dean says. “She’s the cutest kid Lawrence’s ever seen. ’Course she’s a magnet. Plus, that bee costume? She killed it.” Sidling up to them, he leans in to press a kiss to Mary’s cheek and holds out his hand for a high five. 

“Hi’fife!” she squeals, and clumsily obliges. 

“See? You totally killed it, baby girl.” 

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DeanCas Wizarding World!AU
Note: While this does not contain spoilers for Fantastic Beasts, it does use an element of the Universe from the movie.

“Dean? Dean! Dean Michael Winchester, do not take one more step, young man!”

“I’ll be okay, Momma!” Dean barely slips through his mother’s fingers, lanky nine year-old body darting through the open door and into the open, overgrown yard. “I gotta go help!”

“Dean, don’t you dare—!”

He sprints through the cornfield.

Knowing his mom will take too long with Sammy to catch up—and have an even harder time finding him amongst the tall corn—Dean pushes himself until his Momma’s hollering is background noise to the yelling of the people at the Novak’s. There’s the fire car there, and men shouting at each other for more water, and the house burning up like on the fourth of July.

Dean throws himself into the fray.

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DeanCas Coda to 12.03: The Foundry

“So, um, you hungry?”

“Dean…”

Dean doesn’t want to hear it. He already feels his heart beating a mile a minute inside his chest, the world blurring at the edges as he swallows back what feels like bile crawling up his throat. He forces his lips to pull up in a smile, giving a cursory swipe to his eyes as his gaze bounces from the floor to the table to literally everywhere else but the goddamn door.

This is his fault.

As per usual, Sam was right, and Dean was too stupid to see it. If he’d only grown some fucking balls and talked to her—fuck.

“Dean, we should talk about this.”

A laugh—loud, humourless, teetering on the knife’s edge of hysteria—bubbles up past Dean’s lips. “Ain’t nothin’ to talk about, Sammy.” His voice comes out hoarse. “You want a sandwich or what?”

Dean doesn’t give his brother time to answer, stalking to the kitchen with a bitten lip. It’s hard to see where he’s going because everything’s blurred no matter how much he wipes at his face, and the way the world seems to be folding in around him feels kinda like the panic attacks he used to get when he lost his mom the first time. But that wasn’t on him.

This is.

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Maybe it’s a bad idea. Maybe…

“Cas!”

Castiel whirls around, hands quickly hiding the construction paper valentine behind his back. It’s large and kind of lopsided, but his Gabriel said it was just perfect: green like Dean’s eyes, big like his heart.

…It’s even got that one mistake that resembles the hole where his friend’s front teeth should be.

“Cas, here, I got something for you!”

Dean practically jumps up and down in his excitement, gap-toothed grin widening as he reveals, with a flourish, what is behind his back. “See?!” he exclaims. “It’s for today! For Valentime’s!”

In his little fingers, Dean holds a red rose.

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DeanCas: El Dorado!AU

Castiel’s palms sweat as he climbs the steps to the Archangels’ apartments, heart pounding uncontrollably as he keeps his head bowed. Alastair was clear in his instructions: do not look upon them, do not speak unless spoken to, and most importantly, do whatever they askanything, Castiel.

So, Castiel had been washed thoroughly—hair scrubbed, feet soaked, his nipples and mouth and groin anointed with eucalyptus oil… he’d been dressed in a tunic belonging to the Church, a white veil placed of his head as a symbol of his purity, and draped in gold jewellery. On his head, he carried a tray full of their choicest fruits.

He only hopes the Archangels will accept him, the youngest Angel, as their first tribute.

But when he gets to the door of the apartments, Michael and Lucifer are arguing. Torn between wanting to give them privacy, and being terrified of getting turned away, Castiel freezes in place. Surely, the Archangels will know he’s arrived and give him some sort of direction.

“Are you kidding me?!” Michael hisses, pushing at his brother’s chest. “You were the one going on and on about lying to these suckers and now you want to, what, frolic in the streets with them!?!”

Castiel frowns. Lying to…?

Lucifer rolls his eyes, arms crossing over his chest.

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“Sorry. S’cuse me. Sorry. Sorry.” Dean Winchester shuffles to the back of the small plane, biting his lip as he clutches his backpack to his chest, graphs and plans sticking up from the partially zipped back. He’s almost at his seat—the window, left side, last row, when he trips on the foot of some punk-ass kid.  The little asshole, smug as she is, smirks when Dean’s backpack lands with a thump, papers and plans exploding onto the aisle. She giggles obnoxiously and Dean blushes crimson. By the time he’s shuffling toward his seat once more, papers are messily cradled in his arms, crumpled and causing the young man to clumsily bump into things. Half the plane is glaring at him and his thick, black-framed glasses are askew on his nose.

Plus, he’s got the window seat on this tin deathtrap. Looking heavenward, Dean mutters a ‘fuck me’ to the plane ceiling, mumbling an apology to the glaring father across the aisle. Why? Well, because, his plane buddy is already in the appropriate aisle seat. Awesome.

“Sorry, dude, I just gotta…”

Blue eyes look up from a battered copy of The Hobbit, frowning at the spectacle before him. He shifts a little.

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My weakness is tattooed parent!destiel. Carrying baby Marie into the house for the first time, colourful tattoo sleeves in stark contrast with the white blanket she’s swaddled in. Going to the grocery store and cooing at her like saps, completely ignoring the way people stare at them; at these two heavily inked guys, nuzzling their infant’s nose and blowing raspberries on her cheeks.

Laying still as she traces Papa’s big black wings and the special lily flower on Daddy’s side. They tell her a different story for each piece of ink. And when she asks about the tattoo that both her parents have, the one that says: “may the wind under your wings bear you where the sun sails and the moon walks,” they explain that it’s from their favourite book The Hobbit and that it’s for her; that they each had it done before bringing her home. 

Because that is their wish for her.

9

Supernatural AU: When Castiel fell from heaven, he was lost until a handsome stranger took him in.

Part Four of 9x03 AU

My weakness is tattooed parent!destiel. Carrying baby Marie into the house for the first time, colourful tattoo sleeves in stark contrast with the white blanket she’s swaddled in. Going to the grocery store and cooing at her like saps, completely ignoring the way people stare at them; at these two heavily inked guys, nuzzling their infant’s nose and blowing raspberries on her cheeks.

Laying still as she traces Papa’s big black wings and the special lily flower on Daddy’s side. They tell her a different story for each piece of ink. And when she asks about the tattoo that both her parents have, the one that says: “may the wind under your wings bear you where the sun sails and the moon walks,” they explain that it’s from their favourite book The Hobbit and that it’s for her; that they each had it done before bringing her home. 

Because that is their wish for her.

(I had to make a photoset sorrynotsorry)

In which Dean turns thirty-six.

Dean Winchester is not thirty-six years old.

If you want to get technical about it, he isn’t even one. Hell, he’s died and come back so many times; Dean doesn’t know how old he is. And after the Mark, well… he’s trying to figure out where he falls in the spectrum of ‘dead/alive/damned’. Birthdays kinda take a backseat.

This is what Dean is working through at 7:30AM on the 24th of January 2015. Not what he thinks Sam got him, not if Cas is gonna stick around for the day (he probably won’t because he never has and most likely doesn’t even know): if he’s even alive enough to celebrate. If he’s even human enough.

The more Dean thinks about it, the more the answer becomes a resounding ‘no’.

He lays in bed for a half-hour; tossing and turning and staring up at the ceiling. His hands fist in the covers, he takes off his t-shirt, puts it back on, pulls on his pj pants and then kicks them off. By the time 9 o’clock rolls around, Dean is hot, uncomfortable, and has decided to spend the entire day in his room.

And then he hears it: Rumble-talk from the other side of the door, and two sets of feet throwing the small crack of light that gets let into the room.

Dean burrows into his bed and covers his head with his pillow just as he hears the knock.

“Go ‘way, Sammy.”

But when the door cracks open, it isn’t Sam’s voice that filters through the dim.

“Dean?”

Cas.

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5

SOMETHING HAS COME TO MY ATTENTION, PEOPLE!!

I had seen Thelma & Louise way before I started watching Supernatural, and this part always made me wonder. I mean, I can see the physical similarities in Thelma and Dean’s facial features (they are both so pretty wow), but for some reason, the fact that Dean associated himself with Thelma always bugged me.

And now I get it.

For those of you that haven’t seen Thelma & Louise, you need to. It’s awesome, and if you read any further there are going to be major spoilers. For those of you that have, get ready for yet another perfect parallel of Dean and Cas’s relationship:

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