#userbones Tumblr posts

  • spookynightdeancas
    26.09.2021 - 8 hours ago

    float down like autumn leaves

    Kiss #15 - A fierce kiss that ends with a bite on the lip, soothing it with a lick.
    50 types of kisses collection. Also posted on ao3.

    Okay, so maybe Dean wasn’t used to celebrating holidays. Or seasons in general. But Cas had seemed eager to do something autumnal to decorate their home- fingers dancing feather light over Dean’s palm as he suggested the idea a few nights ago as they were drifting off to sleep with their legs tangled under the sheets and Dean’s head tucked into Cas’ shoulder.

    Small little decorations had started appearing in their house the next morning- a pumpkin candle on the kitchen counter and a string of orange tinsel shaped like leaves sat along the mantle above their fireplace.

    Every time they walked past something fall themed in the store, Cas got this little yearning look in his eyes and Dean slipped whatever item it was into the cart. Okay, yeah, Dean was maybe just a little sweet on his husband. But how could he resist that adorable little smile that lit up Cas’ face when they stumbled across a section in the department store filled with orange and yellow wreaths and black and orange flannel tablecloths.

    Autumn would soon transition into Halloween, and Dean had a sneaking suspicion that Cas was going to decorate with little ghosts and witch hats; made all the more humorous because these versions were cute and quirky compared to the real-life ones they hunted for a living. And for the first time in a long time- maybe the first time ever- Dean was happy to let the celebrations dance and decorations collect in their fixer-upper of a home. Maybe because it made the house feel more like a home, and maybe because Cas had never been happier, and that right there was all Dean ever wanted.

    As September rolled to an end and October began to peak its way over the horizon, Dean breathed in the crisp autumn air as he grabbed the surprise he'd gotten for Cas out of the car and carried the items into their kitchen.

    "Honey, I'm home," he called, waiting for the soft laugh Cas always made whenever he said those words. "I've got a surprise in the kitchen for you."

    Cas' head popped around the corner a moment later, a sparkle brightening his eyes as their gazes locked. "A surprise? For me?"

    Dean hummed, pulling Cas into a gentle embrace until he could wrap his arms around Cas' neck. "Am I not allowed to surprise my husband?" he asked, brushing his nose softly against Cas’.

    “You surprise me every day,” Cas murmured, ghosting their mouths together in the barest hint of a kiss.

    Dean let out a soft breath; a shiver tickling along his arms as Cas’ lips chastely touched his. And then Cas was pulling away, a little smirk on his lips that definitely proved he knew what that little touch of a kiss was doing to Dean.

    “I hate you,” Dean muttered, even though he guided Cas around the counter until he could press the brown paper bag into his hands. “Go on and open it.”

    Reaching into the bag, Cas slowly pulled out a couple strings of lights along with several dinner plates and some glasses. He ran his fingers slowly over the gifts before looking up at Dean with an awe-struck expression.

    “You said you wanted to decorate the kitchen table with an autumn theme. I thought you’d like to put those little string lights with the pumpkin and leaf shapes in the center of the table. And you kept glancing at those pumpkin designed plates at the store yesterday. The matching mugs may have been a little overboard but-”

    Dean never got to finish his sentence. Not when Cas’ mouth was crashing into his with enough enthusiasm to have the breath stuttering from Dean’s lungs. Cas’ hands were all over him; gripping against his flannel shirt and tangling in the back of his hair. Cas had kissed him a million times in a thousand ways, but nothing even came close to the fierce way Cas was devouring him right now.

    Dean scrambled, sliding his fingers into the belt loops of Cas’ pants to pull him closer, and they both gasped against each other’s mouths. Dean wasn’t sure how it happened, but one moment they were kissing in the middle of the room and the next Cas had nudged him backwards until Dean was pressed against the kitchen counter; the cold granite against his back a sharp contrast to the hot brush of an open mouth against his own.

    Their tongues tangled together, Cas letting out a muffled groan as he leaned deeper into the kiss. Dean’s head spun and his knees felt weak, and he couldn’t for the life of him understand why Cas was kissing him like this, but God, he never wanted it to end. Cas was exploring every inch of his mouth, as if he didn’t already have every crevice memorized by heart.

    It felt like an awakening; a passion tipped head-long into bliss as Cas kept on kissing him as if he were drinking Dean in.

    When Cas pulled away, Dean thought the kiss was over. But no. Cas lingered; easing back slowly until he caught Dean’s lower lip between his teeth and tugged lightly. He nipped softly at the plump flesh of Dean’s lip; a sharp sting immediately soothed as Cas licked over it with the tip of his tongue. Then a breathy huff was ghosted over the bite in a move that sent another shiver racing down Dean’s spine.

    When he blinked his eyes open, dazed and dizzy, Cas was nosing his way along Dean’s cheek before tipping their heads together until their foreheads were touching. Dean felt like he was going to melt into the floor and float up into the sky at the same time.

    “What was that for?” he asked, sucking in a lungful of air as he squeezed Cas’ hips.

    Cas seemed lost for words for a moment, kiss swollen lips turning up into a tantalizing smile. “Because that was the best surprise you’ve ever gotten me.”

    Dean opened his mouth, about to point out his proposal should’ve been the best surprise he’d ever given Cas, but Cas licked his lips and Dean followed the movement with his eyes. Oh.

    “We should decorate the table with the new lights and plates,” Cas said, shifting backwards slightly, but Dean chased him, brushing their mouths together again.

    “Five minutes. I’m not finished kissing you,” Dean said against Cas’ lips.

    Cas hummed in pleasure, and Dean felt the granite press into his back once again as Cas mouth claimed his in another biting kiss.

    Tag List Below- (please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the list!)

    Tag List: @likepurplemuses @expectingtofly @all-or-nothing-baby @fangurl @feraladoration @adsp-destielcockles @jacobglaser @imiebean @toxic-nebula @proudace

    @galaxymysteryelephant @bleedingcas @destielfactory @tsirhcsusej @thenightwemetnatural @buckystiel @fandoms-fiend @bennedict @10x02 @dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you

    @cassiecasyl @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner @chaoticdean @wigglebox @tootiredmotel @trasherasswood @spittingpagan @top13zepptraxx @love-neve-dies @annissina

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    @ne8ula @sinnabonka @deancasgirl777 @castiel-is-a-cat @casismymrdarcy @footstepsontherun @apatheticandyapple @lokiiistielll @professorerudite @llamasdumpsterfire

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    @jmjlover @ashenlilac @ishipdestiel-lovesofmylifeistg85 @ender-baggins  @redneckangelsdrinkmoonshine @destieldisaster @lovesagoodstory1 @marvolord @dean-humanity-winchester

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  • nancy-gillian
    25.09.2021 - 18 hours ago

    JUDD & GRACE RYDER WEEK Day 6 ☼ Favorite Quote/Scene | Judd being completely in love with his wife.

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  • eddiesbuckaroo
    25.09.2021 - 23 hours ago

    everyone seems to be wanting a fic from the buddie peru gifset should write this???

    #i’m so conflicted i already have the college au #but i also wanna write early 20’s eddie going on holiday to peru and meeting buck who’s moved there and is working at the bar #just like a super cute easy going fluff summer peru au #useroliii#userbon#tuserksn#tuserjw#leah speaks
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  • eddiesbuckaroo
    25.09.2021 - 1 day ago

    au in which buddie meet at a bar whilst buck is in peru

    #pls i saw this clip of ryan in step up and i couldnt help myself #i cant believe ive never seen anyone do this before #leah gifs 911 #buddie#tuserjw#tuserksn#userbon#useraustin#useroliii#911verse#buck#evan buckley#eddie diaz#buddie edit#ryan guzman#oliver stark #ryan guzman step up #buddie au
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  • angelfishofthelord
    25.09.2021 - 1 day ago

    (and heal)

    hurt/comfort fic, set in 11x02 if Ephraim followed through on his threat of "what should we cut off first?"

    It’s been a few days. A few days since they killed Death and unleashed the Darkness and fought off hoards of zombie-like infected people. A few days since the Darkness became a baby and then disappeared from her own nursery. A few days Sam found a cure for the infected after having the poison coursing through his own veins.

    It’s also been a few days since they’ve heard from Castiel.

    They can’t track his phone, no matter how many times Dean has told Sam to check again.

    (What I have, you can’t help me.)

    They followed up on a sightings of seeing a man like him but they still haven’t turned up anything that will lead them to where he is now. From the eyewitness reports it sounds like he’s been hexed with Rowena’s attack dog curse.

    (Sam, Dean. Goodbye.)

    They’ve also been looking for Rowena and Crowley, hoping one would lead to him Neither of them have been found yet.

    (It may be some time before we see one another again.)

    A few days stretches like a chasm before them, black and boundless. They keep circling and searching the same area where the last sighting was reporting, more to make them feel like they’re doing something than because it’s actually effective. They  don’t talk much; not about Dean finally being free of the Mark, or about the Darkness, or if Castiel is going to be found dead or alive. The scratchy throat of the radio is the only running conversation as they move from town to town, the long shadow of the Impala crawling like a funeral procession of one.

    Then they hear something: a rumor in a diner. Nothing more than the chatty whispers of teenagers at the next table slurping giant gulps of soda between munching on sliders. One of the girls is talking about an abandoned sawmill on the edge of the next town that sometimes screams at starry nights; about dusty black windows illuminated with sparks that another boy dismisses as a trick of the moonlight.

    Stars don't scream; Sam and Dean know better than to think the natural is responsible for the unnatural.

    If they can’t find Castiel, Sam and Dean figure, they may as well get rid of whatever spirit might be haunting the sawmill before some kid believes the stories enough to check it out for themselves. As soon as they pull up to the skeletal building, however, Sam reaches over and switches the radio off. Dean’s fingers move to turn off the engine, but it takes him a few seconds to connect with the key because his eyes are fixed  on the sight in front of them.

    There’s no mistaking the familiar style of the mark etched in blood on the outside of the building. It’s warding sigils. Angels. Angels are here, or have been here, which means Castiel must be here, or close by at least.

    The two brothers arm themselves, silently, thoroughly. Blades two each. Sigiled cuffs. Holy fire in one pocket, lighter in the other. Flashlights with beams wide as the mouth of a cave. The door squeaks when they push it open, a long, protracted hiss of rusty hinges. There’s enough cobwebs hanging from the ceiling to reach their nostrils so they breathe shallowly, trying not to inhale too sharply as they move forward. More sigils are painted on the walls inside, blood mingled with the unwiped sawdust. Whoever was--is--here didn’t want to be found by anyone, man or inhuman.

    Towards the back of the main room Dean finds the first body. A man in his late twenties, perhaps, wearing a dark suit, striped tie christened with a gaping, bloodless hole in the center. Angel. Dean steps over him, aiming the flashlight left and right until the beam falls across a second body lying face down. Then he turns the flashlight to the other side of the room and it illuminates the wide-open mouth of a third dead angel. His mouth hangs open as he sits propped up against the corner, one hand clasped over a deep wound at his side that has long stopped sputtering grace.

    “So angels got him,” Sam whispers, unnecessarily, more because the thought had never crossed their mind. In the past few days of searching for their friend the two had entertained the thought of spells or demons or perhaps the Darkness taking Castiel hostage, but not his own family.

    “Bastards,” Dean mutters, kicking the foot of the one face down beside them. “Looks like they got what was coming to them.”

    Sam frowns slightly, squinting in the pale light as they walk forward. The sitting angel with the side wound looks familiar, like the vessel Hannah took when they talked to her at Heaven’s gate. He’s about to say something when Dean lowers the light down to a spot on the ground. “Sam,” he vocalizes hoarsely.

    He follows his brother’s gaze to the glint of metal near his feet. The breath of the flashlight washes over the scattered tools on the floor--a wrench, a rusty circular saw leaning against the wall like a dark moon, and then-- Sam recognizes what it is. It’s been several years but it’s hard to forget the curve of the metal contraption that was fitted on the screaming angel in Crowley’s lair.

    “What’s this doing here?” Dean breathes, bending towards it. The torture device is speckled with blood--fresh  blood that leaves a smear on his finger when he touches it. Half of the long pins in the side are missing. One of them is glimmering a few inches away under the toppled over table, the sharp end slick and red.

    “Let’s just get Cas and get out of here.” Sam steadies his own voice with determination and nods towards the doorway ahead. The plastic flaps of the entrance shimmer as they push them aside and walk in to find themselves standing in a windowless dark room. While Dean fumbles with his sputtering flashlight and then goes towards the side to feel for a light switch, Sam moves forward cautiously, only to crash into a round, hard corner of what must  be another table.

    “Shit,” he mutters as he stumbles to his knees, hard, just as Dean flips the switch.

    Light drowns the room.

    Sam’s eyes widen. He stays on his knees, body electric with shock. Besides him his brother makes a horrible choking noise that sounds very similar to “Cas.”

    “No,” Sam whispers. His tongue feels heavy and swollen.

    Dean’s legs are pitching him from side to side and he means to make them walk forward but they don’t. They can’t. His eyes flicker from side to side, up and down over the sight before him, like tracing a dot-to-dot pattern again and again.

    Castiel--pinned against the wall, arms eagle spread. Metal pins driven into either side of his head, giving him long bloody side burns. His feet --shoeless, sockless-- are dangling limply from his ankles where two more pins are driven in. The palms of his hands are stretched open, fingers curled limply around the spikes embedded into the center.

    Castiel’s eyelids are shut. Somewhere in the back of the mounting scream in Dean’s mind he realizes that he’s looking at a corpse and every muscle in his body dissolves.

    Before he too, hits the ground beside his immobile younger brother, the corpse blinks.

    They both leap to their feet and sprint forward immediately. “Get him down,” they gasp to each other at the same time. Sam goes to pull out the pins in his ankles while Dean hooks his arms under Castiel’s to hold him up so he won’t tear his palms when the weight sags.

    “Hey, hey,” he repeats, brushing the matted hair out of Castiel’s eyes. “We’re here, Cas. We’re here.”

    Castiel blinks, opening his left eye half way. “D’n.” The white of his eyes are webbed in red streaks. His lips are split and yellow-crusted.

    “It’s okay.” Dean sucks in a breath and puts two finger on the pin in the right side of Castiel’s head. “It’s okay.” He pulls quickly, hurling the pin behind him before reaching for the next one. Castiel doesn’t even so much as flinch, which worries Dean even more.

    When the pin on the left is removed the angel suddenly sags forward, sending Dean lurching back slightly before he bends on one knee to balance the weight. “I’ve got you,” he gasps, circling a hand around his back only to sink into the dampness of open flesh. Castiel’s entire back is lacerated to the point where Dean can’t tell where the skin ends and the exposed muscle and tissue begin. The marble white of his spine shows through the blood, black lines on the ridges showing where his back had been scraped raw against the concrete wall. Dean tries not to look at the spot on the wall where Castiel had been impaled, but he sees it anyways, the red spread of blood filling the corner of his eyes.

    Castiel slumps bonelessly into his shoulder. “It’s okay,” Dean murmurs thickly. “S’okay.”

    “They cut off his hands.” The announcement comes from above, in a strangled voice that must be Sam’s. Dean jolts his head up and then nearly falls backwards. He’d assumed that Castiel had fallen forward because Sam had removed the pins in his palms.

    But his brother is standing there, immobile, next to a hand impaled into the wall. Dean drops his eyes to Castiel’s arms, the ones hanging loosely beside his. The ones that end in a smooth circle sliced clean from the wrist.

    “They cut off his hands,” Sam repeats, unaware that he’s repeating himself. He tugs the pin loose and the amputated appendage falls into his outstretched hand. It feels heavier than he thought, fits smaller into his own palm. His knees are starting to fold again and he braces himself against the wall with one hand to keep from collapsing. Somewhere at the side he’s dimly aware of the sob-like sound coming from his brother as he clutches the angel in his arms tighter.

    read more on aO3

    #gotta get this one before whumptober #tw aftermath of torture #my spn fic #userjeb#slipper007#rambleoncas#userbon#seraphcastiel#offbeattraxx#playedwright#tuserari#lyntracks#friendshapedcastiel #hurt comfort fic #spn s11
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  • cowboydiaz
    24.09.2021 - 1 day ago

    𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕚 𝕔𝕒𝕟'𝕥 𝕚𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕖 𝕗𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕒𝕟𝕪𝕓𝕠𝕕𝕪 𝕖𝕝𝕤𝕖

    𝕙𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕝𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕣𝕠𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕤 / 𝕛𝕒𝕞𝕖𝕤 𝕥𝕨 / 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖 @achillestiel 𝕤𝕡𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕗𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪
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  • nancy-gillian
    24.09.2021 - 1 day ago

    JUDD & GRACE RYDER WEEK Day 5 ☼ Judd/Grace + song lyrics | La Cura by Franco Battiato

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  • eddiesbuckaroo
    24.09.2021 - 1 day ago

    i love you, i love you, it's disgusting - broadside

    songs that remind me of buddie

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  • bitchdiaz
    23.09.2021 - 2 days ago

    so inviting, i almost jump in . . .

    for @trashbaget (the best first wife in the world 🥰)

    enjoy the fluff while you can 🤪


    @trashbaget ​@cowboydiaz ​ @phantomqueenmorrigan @honestlydarkprincess @chimreaper @pentagrampanikkar @doodlemeimpressed ​@alwayseddietrash ​@outrunningthedark @enbyeddiediaz ​@eddiediazisascorpio @ghostbucksters @ghostbuckley @blueeyedbuckley @luifairesaigner 💕💕​

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  • madsbuckley
    23.09.2021 - 2 days ago

    songs that make me think of buddie ▶till forever falls apart - ashe & FINNEAS

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  • cowboydiaz
    23.09.2021 - 2 days ago

    ˜”*°• Happy birthday Buddie and Bisexual Visibility Day ! •°*”˜

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  • strandtk
    23.09.2021 - 2 days ago
    EDDIE DIAZ in 9-1-1 | 5.01 “Panic”
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  • buckleyirondad
    23.09.2021 - 2 days ago
    September 23rd, 2018 Eddie Diaz and Maddie Buckley were introduced 
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  • 911icons
    23.09.2021 - 3 days ago


    ☆ 640x360 / 3 screencaps ☆ find them all under the cut ☆ find more on our halloween header page ☆ please like or reblog if you save/use

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