Lightnews — Scholar-powered news

Reposted by The Bunker

JackieDeeArt @jackiedeeart.bsky.social · 4d

Oh, Misha, you adorable troll. We love you #myart #destiel

Just Bek 💙💚💙💚💙💚 FUCK THE PATRIARCHY!!! @justbek.bsky.social · 4d

Misha the shipper will always bring me joy. Also @jackiedeeart.bsky.social
I love that this artwork was involved in this moment 💙💚
#Destiel
💙💚💙💚

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The Bunker @thebunker.bsky.social · 4d

Day Three•Garden

Show me your garden that's bursting into life.

AO3~ bit.ly/SexWarPeace
Official~ bit.ly/SexWarAndPea...
eBook~ bit.ly/SexWarAndPea...

@thefriendlypigeon's store: Old Love @ thefriendlypigeon.squarespace.com/thefriendlyp...

#suptober25 #Destiel #SPN #SexWarAndPeace +

Supernatural
Sex, War & Peace
Pandorakiin
Art by The Friendly Pigeon. The Alt Text for Pigeon's art is included on the final panel.

“Show me your garden that’s bursting into life.”
— Snow Patrol’s “Chasing Cars” —
Castiel’s cheeks flushed. He quickly took interest in the chip of ice tink-tinking around the bottom of his whiskey glass. “If you could go back, would you do anything differently?” One eyebrow jumping straight up, Dean met his gaze, blindsided by the question. “Crossroads deal? Hell…?”
A smile, real and fond, without pretense or obfuscating charm, came into being on Dean’s face. “No.”
“Not because…”
Dean shimmied his elbows on the rail closer… until their shoulders kissed. “Yeah. Exactly because. Easy as pie to see this would never happen without that. We’d never meet. Sam wouldn’t be here. Changing any choice along the way, no matter how small, could mean we’d never have ended up here.”
“I’m amazed you feel that way.” Castiel’s eyes, big and bright, and right up close, had his heart thrumming faster and faster every moment that went by.
“Hey, I’m not saying I would do it all over again. I just wouldn’t change it**—**any of it.” Putting on a lopsided smile, Dean winked, grinning as he tipped another sip of whiskey past his lips. He didn’t want to ask how much Sam and Eileen had to shell out for it. Forget “Nectar of the Gods”, this stuff could bestow immortality.
“How about you…? God?” Dean emphasized.
Cas shook his head. “No. I wouldn’t have profoundly understood why God needed to be cast down without that experience.”
“C’mon! You were a colossal dick.”
Cas’ grin was nothing less than shit-eating. “Still am.”
“Fuck you, man.”
Cas downed a whiskey sip with a, “Please, do,” chaser and a daring smile. Leaning in closer, his boring gaze demanded Dean come up with something.

“All right, okay. That, uh… that waitress… out in—” Dean shuddered at the memory. “That, uh, definitely had me questioning my life choices…”
“Oh!” Cas winced, his voice rife with unattraction, holding up one hand as if he needed to physically push the vivid image of Dean’s memory out of his mind. For what little good it did, his eyes stayed squinted until the recollection cleared.
The woman had a soul as sweet as the real strawberry milkshakes the quaint diner she staffed served. Either by accident of genetic design or badly-healed injury, her nose, instead of the unremarkable slant of most other human beings, she, in no uncertain terms, possessed the snout of a pig. Kind, beautiful eyes, a winning smile, a bit heavier than Dean’s usual dames, silky, flowing hair, breasts-every ounce of them natural-that could make Elvira green with envy; all of it for naught but for one godawfully unlucky accident of birth.
“So fucking sue me, dude. She was funny as hell and she had a nice laugh, fun humour, and a great smile. It was just that unfortunate little thing with her nose goin’ on… and the outta control acne bloom on her ass and thighs… ‘Ey, I hadn’t gotten any for a while, so… y’know, I went with it. Add to that the cowboy hat and the whole reverse-cowgirl thing…” The memory of her unfortunate appearance faded long ago, he remembered the sensation of her around his cock best of all. “No one, and I mean fuckin’ no one else I’ve ever had could work their cooch on my dick like that. Not even Lise. Still remember it, clear as a blue sky. Whoever she found in this life, he’s one lucky sonuvabitch.”
Smiling fondly on him, Castiel assured him, “I understand.”
“I’m sure you do.”
Cas’ tongue pulled whiskey lingering on his lips into his mouth. As the angel turned pensive, his gaze fixed on his glass until the moment he spoke. “No one else?”
Dean grinned and laughed into his whiskey glass as he took another sip, shaking his head as his elbows found the railing again

Continued...

He shifted his hips to weigh against Cas’, holding the glass in both hands. “Present company excepted.” Dean’s eyes drilled that truth into his mind, before leaning in for a light and sweet, if lingering kiss.
He needed more of those lips like air but… later. There was time. Frowning, Dean swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. “I’d… uh, I’d have gone back to see Bobby sooner.”
Cas roped a comforting arm over his back, kissing his shoulder through his shirt. “He would have liked that.”
“Yeah.” There were tears underneath the word. “I know that now.”
Dean took the comforting kiss to his temple, his eyes drooping closed. Dizzying need had him swaying on all fours, leaning heavy into Cas’ loving touch. Something the angel slowly, quietly, and softly but insistently gave him more of. Kisses wandered leisurely around his cheek and neck. Dean dropped his shoulder, laying his neck open, happy to bask under raindrop kisses.
“What’s meant to grow here?”
Dean sucked a hard breath in through his nose, waking himself up from pleasure’s dreamlike stupor. “Hmm?” Cas pointed a finger, waving it over the seeded yet barren stepped gardens Dean had mortared together, stone by stone culled from the plentiful lakeshore. “When it’s fertile enough—hopefully next spring—wildflowers. Black-Eyed Susan, daisies, fiddleheads, Queen Anne’s Lace, cornflower, thistles, columbine, milkweed, coneflower. Anything with a flower and hardy enough to grow.”
The cabin was sizeable already. Building out onto even more of the land—here had to be a reason… “Why so much ground for it?”
Dean cleared his throat. Biting his lip, he forced himself to look at Castiel. He wanted to see the angel’s expression as much as he was afraid of it. “Apiaries.”
Bewildered was Cas’ first feeling. “We have…?” Dean nodded, beaming like sunshine. Bewilderment turned to innocent excitement under a thick varnish of burning desire. The timber of Cas’ voice hit rock-bottom. “Where?”

Continued...

Grinning, Dean nodded his head toward the woods on the other side of the cabin. “North side of the property, by the treeline. If we’re lucky they’ll started building hives in the trees too. C’mon.” He kissed the angel in lieu of, “You’re welcome.” He stood up tall, his fingers slipping out of Cas’. Sauntering back to the floral oval framed screen door, Dean cracked it open, pausing. Fire in the hearth and candlelight lit the cabin, with twilight swiftly settling over the mountain lake valley. “If I can swing it, next year I want to try planting raspberries, maybe rhubarb.”
Cas stopped cold. “No apples?” Dean’s garden growing without apples felt viscerally wrong.
Dean shrugged off his disappointment. “Nah. Nothing I’d ever put in a pie will grow here. Ground’s too fallow. Even if I did manage to get a small tree going… too much effort for far too little reward. If I can get this garden to take for the bees’ sake, that’ll make me happy.” Dean winked and stepped inside. “I’ll get our jackets.”
Cas’ bootfall on the step back up echoed the thwack of the closing screen door. A powerful urge cemented him in place. He… he couldn’t bear new life for the man he loved, but he could help it grow and flourish. He stepped back down and crouched down on one haunch. Undoing his cuff, he rolled back the sleeve. Turning up the vulnerable underside of his forearm, grace shone to life in his eyes. Filaments of light shimmered into being underneath his human skin, snaking through his human flesh, pooling at the tip of the thumb’s nail on his free hand. With some effort, he pooled a tiny, fluctuating well of grace under the skin of his upturned arm.
Pressing the cutting edge of his thumbnail to his forearm, he slipped it across his skin, leaving an angry red divot a little more than an inch long behind. Into that trench of marred skin slowly pooled a miniature river of pure energy—the stuff from which all life is born, and to which all life returns. Grace.

Continued...

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The Bunker @thebunker.bsky.social · 4d

Find @thefriendlypigeon.bsky.social's work here:

x.com/_FriendlyPig...

thefriendlypigeon.tumblr.com/post/7741151...

www.instagram.com/p/DFbBEy0oqM...

Shop:

thefriendlypigeon.squarespace.com/thefriendlyp...

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The Bunker @thebunker.bsky.social · 4d

#suptober25 #Destiel #SPN #Supernatural #Castiel #Dean #AGoodRunOfBadLuck #SexWarAndPeace /end

Draping off the thickest region of his thighs. Swaying wood beads, dyed blue and green, weighed down the knotted ends of the drawstring.
Their lips and bodies met with uncareful force. Still wasn’t enough for Dean. His hand found the back of Cas’ head as his tongue made way through Cas’ lips.
Fresh, simple and clean as their idyllic haven; such was the nature of their bodies, hearts, souls, and the love they shared.
When Cas finally stopped kissing him, Dean had only enough breath left to whisper, “How…?”
The angel smiled softly, laying one last butterfly kiss on his lips. “Your blood, sweat…” Cas wiped a falling tear from Dean’s cheek. “and tears, have built this place. Seemed only fair I contribute my own.”
Dean stared, in awe. His grace. Had to be what made such an impossibility… real.
“Hungry?”
Mute, yet smiling as Cas swept yet another tear away, Dean nodded enthusiastically. He was, and for so much more than food and drink.
Cas looked back over his shoulder kitchen-ward. “Coffee’s ready. Do we want to sit out there?”
Overjoyed laughter burst out of Dean. “Yeah, we do.”
Cas left him behind with a loving kiss, heading back to the kitchen.
Dean wandered back outside in a bit of a daze. He couldn’t help the way he stared, amazed and dumbstruck at the flower beds, seeded but empty last night, and this morning, bursting at the seams with fully grown, full-bloom wildflowers. The potent urge to pick a few different colours and decorate his angel’s hair and ear with ‘em seized him. The screen door creaked open behind him. He turned, looking Cas in the eyes, and remembered the last time he encountered Castiel as something resembling a new age sex guru slash hippie flower child hybrid. He looked and backed away. He caught the beginnings of Cas’ frown.
“Dean, what’s wrong?”
Dean clenched his jaw, closed his eyes, and—through considerable force of will—rooted his feet in place, determined not to retreat or look away from the knowledge he carried...

Continued...

How different their fate could have been. He was determined to do it right this time.
Offering up Dean’s hand thrown mug of steaming coffee, Dean took it, soothing his nerves with the rich, nearly creamy taste, and sorely needed hit of caffeine. Holding the cup to his mouth with both hands, taking a slow, steady sip, the relief he felt was palpable. He took a long, deep, unsteady breath. The smile on his face stood in for, “Thank you,” just fine. He walked to the edge of the top step, still captured by wonderment at the gardens; rose and morning glory vines twisting and winding around their retaining walls. Dean held on tight to Cas’ hand in return when he felt the angel reach out and hold his.
“It’s… heh. It’s a stupid idea.” Quite possibly the single fruitiest idea to ever cross his mind. Still, he wanted to see what it looked like for reasons he couldn’t put into words.
Cas cocked his head to the side, curious. “What idea?”
Dean shook his head, laughing morosely at his predicament. The lyric echoed in his mind; if you’re going to San Francisco, be sure to wear flowers in your hair… “For a second there, I kinda wanted to see you with a few flowers in your hair.” He tried to smile but sadness quickly washed it away. The way Cas looked at him was inscrutable. Wide open, but no hint of what he thought, one way or the other. A blank slate. The same look he had every time he encountered a new idea. Then came the beginnings of a smile. Dean felt his eyes start to water and his vision blur a little. Letting go his hand, Cas set down his mug, walked a few steps down from the deck, bent over the garden wall and choose a handful of daisies—the exact colours he’d wanted to go for, orange, white, pink, and purple—snipping the stems with his fingernail.
Arranging them into a miniature bouquet as he ascended the steps, he presented the colourful flower palette to Dean, the look in his eyes alone asking to Dean to make the wish come true. They sat on the steps...

Continued...

Arranging them into a miniature bouquet as he ascended the steps, he presented the colourful flower palette to Dean, the look in his eyes alone asking to Dean to make the wish come true. They sat on the steps with coffee by their sides. Castiel looked him dead in the eyes, smiling as Dean wove and braided the stems into his hair over his ear. Dean leaned in close, gently running his fingertips over the delicate petals, combing through his hair onto his bare skin. Greying hair and beard, lines belying his age and skin that didn’t hug his bones and muscle quite so tightly as it used to… but Jesus. He looked perfectly lovely with daisies perched beside his arresting blue eyes,
neatly trimmed three-day shadow and the defined arch of his eyebrow.
All we have left is each other…
Dean smiled bittersweetly. This time around, that wasn’t true. We have each other, and we have a place to call our own. Not too shabby if I say so myself. Pulling Castiel into a punctuating kiss by the chin, his work was done. He picked up his mug and, scooching closer, blew off a last little bit of steam. Every penny spent on those beans was worth it.
Roping his arm behind the angel’s back, holding him closer by the waist, Dean lay his head down on Cas’ shoulder, taking lazy sips of coffee until the mug ran cool, then dry. For the first time in all the years of his life, he knew what peace felt like.

ALT Text for Pigeon's art is on the next panel.

Art by The Friendly Pigeon

Dean is seated on a dark green decorative armchair with buttons pressing divots into the upholstery of the chair back. Cas is kneeling before him on the floor in front of the chair. Their arms are wrapped around one another. They're resting, eyes closed, in each other's arms. A neat trick of perspective makes it feel as though they could be laying together on mattress with Dean's leg wrapped over Cas' body, when Dean is in fact seated on a plush armchair.
The overall motif of Pigeon's digital painting is emblematic. A cornucopia of ferns and colourful wildflowers grows from wherever there is a crevice behind or around the central figures in the painting. The look of the chair and flowers gives the impression Dean and Castiel are on the road spending their night in an abandoned, derelict home.

Find Pigeon's work here:
https://x.com/_FriendlyPigeon/status/1884694056623612083
https://thefriendlypigeon.tumblr.com/post/774115122080792576/i-was-inspired-by-some-mood-boards-on-pinterest
https://www.instagram.com/p/DFbBEy0oqMC/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

Pigeon's Art Shop:
https://thefriendlypigeon.squarespace.com/thefriendlypigeon-shop/p/wmrzejz7fxnhrep-c8p8s-6e68r-4jtz2-f3g47-arw4j-z9sbn-wm83w-sgkze-gx8g9-apjcd-63m8a-eyr7t-kls6n-ghzrp-w6w68-rjejb-lh3bf-fcatj-fg5bx-s2f6w-82cr5-kbsar-824tk

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The Bunker @thebunker.bsky.social · 4d

#suptober25 #Destiel #SPN #Supernatural #Castiel #Dean #AGoodRunOfBadLuck #SexWarAndPeace +

Holding his arm out over the garden soil, he wrapped the other hand over his forearm, pinching together the flesh underneath his human bones. Drip, drip… drip. Drops of light splattered open on the dry, crumbly soil, sitting on the surface a moment before soaking into the ground and streaking away throughout the gardens surrounding the cabin, travelling by capillaries too small for the human eye to see.
The sound of Dean’s steps approaching inside the deck door brought him back to their shared plane of perception. His eyelids shooed the light out of his eyes. He firmly pressed his palm to the bleed, sliding his hand along the skin, hard. A last, minute grace whisp evaporated from underneath his palm’s trailing edge. He lay his open palm on the rough earth, a knowing, loving smile taking shape on his lips. He cast his gaze skyward, taking in a deep breath. It would rain overnight.
The screen door creaked open and Dean’s boots hit the porch.
Dean stalled. “Cas?”
Castiel stood, lightly brushing granules of dirt off his palm, looking up to Dean. The love on his face, in his eyes, pinioned Dean in place. His heart leapt, swelling in his chest. He smiled softly back as Cas closed on him, planting a lasting kiss on his open mouth, arms going around him, holding their bodies together. It hadn’t been, but he could’ve sworn minutes had gone by before the seraph’s lips, tongue, and arms let him go. Their gazes met. Not a word needed to be said. Parting, Dean held up the lambs’ fur denim jacket he’d had made for Castiel, wearing one of his own.
Sliding one arm in, then the other, Dean lay the jacket over his angel’s shoulders. Perfect. Comfortable, and not too loose. Undeniably handsome. Unable to help his dumbass, giddy grin, he blushed. Hand in hand, shoulder to shoulder, they leisurely sidled down the stairs, ‘round the garden walls, heading for the treeline at the back of the plateau.

[…]

A sleepy, orgasm-inebriated smile formed on Dean’s face.

Continued...

Thumb painting a meandering patch of Cas’ cum into the skin of his stomach, he watched the angel get up onto his knees to crawl off the edge of the bed. Not having Cas’ legs around him, his penis now missing from where it laid spent on the wonderfully sensitive skin in his hip groove… nope. Didn’t like it. Dean surged up and struck, seizing Castiel’s trailing foot by the big toe, collapsing face down on the mattress, satisfied he’d inexorably captured his prey. Cas, knowing the mischief was coming before Dean trapped him, tried and failed to get off fast enough. Finding himself standing—hopping—on one leg, he half-heartedly tried yanking his toe free.
All he succeeded at was putting a lustfully impish grin on Dean’s lips to match the look in his greedily glaring eye. While Cas failed at freeing his toe, he succeeded wonderfully at showing off his own cum-spattered stomach and thighs, and his dangling, half-swollen cock and bouncing balls.
Score. Dean’s grin widened. He wanted Cas and his body back in bed with him and he wanted it right fuckin’ now. They stared each other down, locked in stalemate.
The sound of a bubbling, rumbling growl in Dean’s stomach split the heavy silence. Dean muffled his plaintive moan and cackling laughter, simultaneously hiding away his deep red blush in their pillowy down comforter. Humiliatingly defeated by his own traitorous stomach. He dared a secretive peek at the angel’s reaction; tittering laughter and an all-out Cheshire grin. He could hold onto Cas’ toe or flip Feathers the bird, but he couldn’t do both; bird it is.
Cas’ laughter deepened. He came back to the bedside. Kneeling, he kissed the corner of Dean’s mouth, settling back into resting his temple on his palm’s heel. He lay an arousing, teasing touch in the small of Dean’s back. “Don’t tempt me,” the seraph warned seductively. Like that, Dean was drowning in want for sex again.
Still, he was hungry—no, starving—and…the re was time, and time after that...

Continued...

and still more time later on. It was the second of many, many days to come. The tension in his body snapped and evaporated under the angel’s soothing touch. “I’ll shower, then make breakfast while you shower and dress.” Dean’s stomach spoke again, wholehearted in its agreement with Castiel. Dean laughed, even with Cas nuzzling a kiss against his face. Cas’ fingers slipped off his skin and the seraph’s body heat abruptly disappeared.
Cracking open the eye not buried in down feathers and cotton, Dean watched, his vision hazy and dreamlike, as Cas’ naked ass went to their dresser and pulled out a pair of linen pants, throwing them over his shoulder. He descended the loft’s ladder without looking back…
Dean stepped out into the living room stretching dull aches out of his muscles, still airing out his nude body. He inhaled the scent of breakfast—farm-fresh bacon, eggs and thin breakfast steaks—and rather suddenly felt aggressively hungry. He snatched up the pair of jeans—only jeans—Cas had laid out on the back of the couch.
Zipping up the fly and buttoning his waist, it was evident from the faint scent wafting out of the kitchen coffee was on the stove, but not ready quite yet. Giving his stomach a soothing scritch and taking a deep breath, Dean decided fresh mountain air was probably the next best thing available to wake himself up. Cas had the inside door wide open, and fresh, cool air wafted in through the screen door. Petrichor… it had rained last night while he was out cold. Limbs and eyelids still heavy—sue him, he wasn’t used to that much physical exertion in a night—he wove slightly as he lumbered toward the door and out onto the deck, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.
No sooner had he opened his eyes when his gaze snapped to the explosion of colour where just last night there were beds of hardscrabble topsoil where only the sparsest hints of green, nevermind flowers, had managed to miraculously grow wildly out of control...

Continued...

In the unforgiving mountain soil. He couldn’t pull any more air into his lungs. Water clouded his vision. Dreaming. He had to be… Dean clapped his hand over his eyes. The need to breathe overpowered the muscles wrapped taut around his ribcage. He slipped his hand down his face just enough to see once again.
The flowers were still there.
He dashed to the rail, leaning over as far as he could without ending up ass over tea kettle in a bed of crushed flowers. Brilliant, rich red roses on vines nearly reached where stone foundations ended and the deck posts began. His mouth hanging open in awe, his breath came to him in short, hard, deep bursts. The Lace’s pure white blooms with their tiny dots the colour of dried blood in the centre and the scotch thistle had grown tall enough he reached the blossoms hardly having to lean over the railing. He’d never seen daisies that tall. Or so colourful!
Dean ran to the end of the deck. There, in a swath of flowerbed only just wide enough for a bush, Dean had planted a single raspberry bush clipping, holding the faint hope that it might have the gumption to grow. A hope that proved in vain—until now. The bush stood no less than four feet tall, maybe five, bursting over the stone and mortar retaining wall, its thin branches weighed heavy and low with plump… succulent berries. Potently sweet, and nicely tart. Delicious beyond words for no reason other than how rarely real, fresh fruit could be found in the world nowadays.
Dean sprinted back the screen door, flinging it open wide as he ran back inside the cabin, he stopped on a dime at the sight of Cas in the midst of following him out onto the deck, naught on but a pair of linen pants laced up at the waist, his brushed hair somehow still mussed up, having dried into these adorable natural curlicues, echoed in the hair on his chest and stomach, dipping to the unseen places below his pant’s waist. They hung from his hips, fluttering over the mound of his cock...

Continued...

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The Bunker @thebunker.bsky.social · 4d

Day Three•Garden

Show me your garden that's bursting into life.

AO3~ bit.ly/SexWarPeace
Official~ bit.ly/SexWarAndPea...
eBook~ bit.ly/SexWarAndPea...

@thefriendlypigeon's store: Old Love @ thefriendlypigeon.squarespace.com/thefriendlyp...

#suptober25 #Destiel #SPN #SexWarAndPeace +

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Liz @lizleeships.bsky.social · 16d

Yes I still draw the stupid old men #destiel

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The Bunker @thebunker.bsky.social · 22d

I must be crazy. Already considering hand binding a copy of this story...

#destiel #DrippingWings #SexWarAndPeace

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Wajahat Ali @wajali.bsky.social · 22d

Every major talent that works for ABC and Disney should refuse to show up for work until Jimmy Kimmel is reinstated.

Marvel movies need to shutdown. Ditto the sitcoms.

Collective boycott.

Corporations love money more than anything,& this will harm them and force them to do the right thing.

1.1K 7.2K 24K

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amy brown @amybrown.xyz · 22d

those two guys from supernatural

🐔 Brian Bucklew 🐔 ₑͤ＞∿＜ₑͤ ∞🌮 @unormal.bsky.social · 22d

whos the zoomer version of mulder and scully

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The Bunker @thebunker.bsky.social · 22d

Simply because...

youtu.be/T-LB-XsuF-8?...

How the Supernatural Finale Betrays its Characters

YouTube video by kath clarke

youtu.be

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The Bunker @thebunker.bsky.social · 22d

#spnfanfic #SPN #Superntural #DeanWinchester #Castiel #Destiel #DrippingWings #SexWarAndPeace

#BeSweetReskeet 💙💚

The Bunker @thebunker.bsky.social · 22d

Hey, everyone!!

Ch. 5 is 5.9k words. I have another 1.5-2k & just two last major plot points to write until what's already "on paper" is stitched together. <3

Aiming for #Suptober release. I'm also hoping there'll be a prompt in @wigglebox.bsky.social's #Suptober that gives us a date ;)

#destiel

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The Bunker @thebunker.bsky.social · 22d

Hey, everyone!!

Ch. 5 is 5.9k words. I have another 1.5-2k & just two last major plot points to write until what's already "on paper" is stitched together. <3

Aiming for #Suptober release. I'm also hoping there'll be a prompt in @wigglebox.bsky.social's #Suptober that gives us a date ;)

#destiel

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The Bunker @thebunker.bsky.social · Sep 2

Imma have to beg forgiveness folks. The Sync links to my eBooks no longer work, but they are available for download on the website now!! <3

bit.ly/SexWarAndPea...

#SexWarAndPeace #DrippingWings #Destiel #SPNFanFic #FanFic #SPN #Supernatural

Sex, War & Peace

SUPERNATURAL Alternate Ending Series by Pandorakiin Dripping Wings & Heavy Things Credits Foreword Series Warnings Chapter 1 • Life in Him Yet Chapter 2 • The Start of Something Good Chapter 3 • Tread...

bit.ly

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The Bunker @thebunker.bsky.social · Aug 31

Previews for Ch. 5&6 LIVE on the website!!💙💚

bit.ly/SexWarAndPea...

AO3 bit.ly/SexWarPeace
eBook bit.ly/SexWarAndPea...
TTS bit.ly/SexWarAndPea...

Eye Ease bit.ly/SexWarAndPea...

Patreon patreon.com/pandorakiin

#SaltAndBurn1520 #Destiel #SPN #Supernatural #spnfanfic #TheySilencedThem #spnfandom

The Nah/That's The Stuff meme, expect it's Jensen photographed at a Supernatural Creation Convention.
Nah : Dying needlessly in a nondescript barn that smells like horseshit, hanging from rebar like a slaughtered animal on a meat hook.
That's The Stuff : Facing down the spectre of your homophobic father and internalized homophobia for the sake of having something extraordinary with your best friend (read: the love of your life).

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Liz @lizleeships.bsky.social · Aug 21

When you know he’s won the argument so you bring out the big guns (lips) (Patron commission for Linda; thank you!)

www.tumblr.com/lizleeships/...

Post by @lizleeships · 2 images

💬 0 🔁 20 ❤️ 70 · Little patron commission for Linda, who requested a tie-pull and shutting the angel up, which really, is the best way to win an argument IMHO. (Don't repost please, but reblog…

www.tumblr.com

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The Bunker @thebunker.bsky.social · Aug 15

Ahhh, Bob Wess... how we miss your content.

2

The Bunker @thebunker.bsky.social · Aug 13

#spnfanfic

The Bunker @thebunker.bsky.social · Aug 13

Previews for Chapter 5 & 6 to be released this week on AnyType! 💙💚

bit.ly/SexWarAndPea...

AO3: bit.ly/SexWarPeace
eBook: bit.ly/SexWarAndPea...
TTS: bit.ly/SexWarAndPea...
Eye Ease: bit.ly/SexWarAndPea...

Patreon: patreon.com/pandorakiin

#SaltAndBurn1520 #Destiel #SPN #Supernatural

The Nah/Hell Yeah meme, expect it's Jensen photographed at a Supernatural Creation Convention.

Nah : Dying needlessly in a nondescript barn that smells like horseshit, hanging from rebar like a slaughtered animal on a meat hook.

Hell Yeah! : Facing down the spectre of your homophobic father and internalized homophobia for the sake of having something extraordinary with your best friend (read: the love of your life).

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Liz @lizleeships.bsky.social · Jul 27

Castiel Airlines #destiel

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Liz @lizleeships.bsky.social · Aug 12

I felt the previous drawing needed a conclusion #destiel

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The Bunker @thebunker.bsky.social · Aug 13

Previews for Chapter 5 & 6 to be released this week on AnyType! 💙💚

bit.ly/SexWarAndPea...

AO3: bit.ly/SexWarPeace
eBook: bit.ly/SexWarAndPea...
TTS: bit.ly/SexWarAndPea...
Eye Ease: bit.ly/SexWarAndPea...

Patreon: patreon.com/pandorakiin

#SaltAndBurn1520 #Destiel #SPN #Supernatural

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The Bunker @thebunker.bsky.social · Nov 26

"There's things I want to experience differently than before. Maybe for the first time."

Art&Inspiration: @thefriendlypigeon.bsky.social

BlueSky: bsky.app/profile/thef...
Patreon: www.patreon.com/thefriendlyp...
Insta: www.instagram.com/p/DBwR0qfI9Na

#destiel #spnfanfiction #spnfanart #AltTextFTW

Supernatural | Dripping Wings & Heavy Things

Chapter | For the First Time…

Cas closed and shuttered the motel room door and window behind him, setting their duffle of clean clothes and sheets on a dining chair as he came closer, his unblinking, unsettling gaze fixed on the sight of him standing there, jacketless, shirtless, and shoeless. He’d been thinking about this all day. It *felt* like he’d hardly thought about anything else. He had, but... not finding himself in the same predicament as Cas had earlier was little short of a miracle.

The angel’s hand reached for his belt and for some reason, he stood up straight and squared his shoulders. Cas’ fingers slipped between his skin and dress pants in a slow, sensual, wholly unintentional taunt. Cas hadn’t looked him in the eye for some time. He had his eyes fixed on the widening space between his skin, slacks, and briefs, anticipation tinting his otherwise blank expression; like the seraph had never seen the parts of his body underneath before, and couldn’t spare attention for anything else as he drifted closer. Not even taking off his own clothes.

Dean felt himself relax and he began to laugh very quietly at just how enrapt Castiel was to the possibility of getting eyes on his cock. Reaching for the folds of Cas’ shirt, bloused out over his pants waist, he lifted a bit, pulled, found a couple buttons to undo underneath his deep blue tie, and freed the angel’s front shirt tails. The urge rang his brain like a bell and he listened; dropping one hand to Cas’ groin, he found and conformed his palm and fingers to the smoldering organ and sack underneath the seraph’s slacks, giving the whole package a massaging tug.

Castiel’s gaze punched a hole through his sternum as his chest and stomach heaved stiltedly, jaw clenching, the hand sneaking into Dean’s pants frozen. The seraph’s abs and ass clenched, lifting his cock into Dean’s hand looking for a fuller stroke...

Dean pulled his palm away keeping hold of his groin by only his fingertips, teasing, waiting, for Cas to cave to desire and bring the organ straining against its’ cloth prison closer.

Striking fast, Cas took hold of him with both hands by the belt at the hip bones and hauled him close. Every nerve in Dean’s body stood every hair on him on end. For all the effort moved the angel, a mountain might as well have reached out and dragged him forward. Cas brought him close enough their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces yet scarcely touched. Fearful, Dean watched from the sides of his eyes as Castiel stood nearly motionless off center of him, head bowed, his beyond-human awareness drawing Cas’ eyes to his body’s every nervous spasm.

Dean tried to pull breath and failed to fill his lungs, trapped inside the unmoving cage of his chest. His heart pumped every beat out deep and hard, muscles in his neck twitching as the angel’s gaze slowly climbed the slope of his unsteady shoulder, to the artery thrumming in his neck.

To Cas’ ear, all other sounds fell away from the rush of blood through his lover’s vein, to the uneasy jitter in Dean’s heartbeat; sounds unlike anything his body had made in their loving so far. The jolt was slight but Castiel felt it when the backs of his fingers withdrew from between Dean’s clothing and stomach, tracing slowly toward his side and soon enough, taking hold of him by the flesh of his hip and pressing their bodies together. Suddenly, Cas’ whole presence softened. He jumped again when Cas’ gentle hand touched and cradled the side of his face from jaw to temple. Eyes falling closed his jaw went slack as his head fell into the heated, perfect pillow of Cas’ palm. Tension fled his whole body in the self-same moment.

The featherlight touch of Cas’ breathing kissed the heartbeat in his neck the instant before his angel’s lips...

Slow and steady, Castiel’s tongue slipped out of his opening mouth, lapped at his skin and deepened the kiss. Cas breathed him in deep, holding onto it long and hard, gently exhaling from the mouth.

The angel’s wet lips drifted up to rest on his ear. “What do you need?” The sound was almost a whisper, calling him back from losing himself in the loving caress of the hand on his face.

“Heh… I, uhh… I dunno.” He felt Cas smile against his cheek.

“A long, hot shower…”

Dean smiled softly, taking Cas’ meaning even through the fog of arousal settling over his mind. He closed his eyes and laid his head into Cas’ hand, halfway tempted to fall asleep standing like a horse. Dean took a deep, slow breath to wake himself up. “Hmm… yeah,” he whispered. Cas’ hand turned his head and lips to meet his kiss and time fell away.

When he came to, it seemed as though the sun was lower in the sky than when their unending kiss started. Rubbing his hand across his eyes, he was vaguely aware that he’d never drowned in a kiss like this before in his life. The breath he took in was deep, steady, and sure.

Slowly, he backed away from Castiel, stunned by the resounding protest in his skin wherever they no longer touched. His gaze met Cas’. In that moment he knew what bewildered innocence felt like from inside it. At nearly the same time they smiled and quietly laughed. Dean nodded, let go, and headed for the bathroom. Cas followed on his heels, opening the top drawer of the dresser beside the bathroom door. Dean paused, missing something but unsure what. He looked back to see Cas holding up a small black travel bag for him.

Turning, Dean clamped his hand down on the bag and came back to him with the kind of firm, certain, impassioned kiss that was his usual wont.

Dean took the bag.

Cas grinned, nodding.

All right…

Background: All three panels feature a washed out version of Pigeon's art and a slim black border. Cas tentatively reaches into Dean's dress pants, Dean untucks Cas' shirt.

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The Bunker @thebunker.bsky.social · Aug 13

If you were looking for the The Bunker podcast this isn't the right account. <3 Sorry, Dr.

The Bunker @thebunker.bsky.social · Jul 28

Luckily, there are plenty of offline options for reading #SexWarAndPeace. ;)

bit.ly/SexWarAndPea...

AO3: bit.ly/SexWarPeace

Ebooks:

Red Letter Edition: bit.ly/SexWarAndPea...
TTS Accessible: bit.ly/SexWarAndPea...
Eye Ease: bit.ly/SexWarAndPea...

#destiel #SPN #Supernatural #DrippingWings

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・⚜ 𝒦𝒶𝓈 ⚜・ @frijolebean.bsky.social · Oct 31

Idk I just wanted to draw cas shirtless

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