#But Cas had also said he would fix it if he could after he came to his senses so theoretically Cas still would have made it right

[scoobydoodean]

how do you think things would’ve gone if cas didn’t “die” after spitting out the leviathan? and like specifically how do you think him sticking around would have affected his relationship with dean/dean’s forgiveness of him?

Honestly? I think Dean would have forgiven him pretty easily. Like he honestly forgave Cas pretty quickly in season 7 and that was despite being frustrated with Cas being avoidant and all the depression Dean was dealing with the whole season partly due to Cas dying in the first place and the fallout of Sam's broken wall (which was broken by Cas deliberately). So I honestly think if Cas had been able to keep that earnest promise in 7.01 about making things right and them working through this, Dean would have forgiven him fairly quickly. I don't think it would be easy I think Dean would need time, especially after Cas broke Sam's wall, and I think they'd fight and cry all over again like they did before Cas came to his senses about the souls. (They were both so heartbroken and weepy all 6.21!!!) But I think Dean would have forgiven him. Cas broke his heart and fucked up his brother's head specifically to punish him and Dean was still offering olive branches and saying "Maybe angels don't need to breathe" and keeping his trenchcoat in the car and saying "Don't make me lose you too" and etc etc etc.

[winchesterscorner]

[Dean Winchester] - Bruises

♫ - Lucky Stars - Lucy Spraggan

This was a request for @jayblove1994, I hope you enjoy! <3

Loving a demon hunter wasn't easy. Loving a hunter was not what you expected in your future. But, you most certainly were not complaining.

Dean Winchester was a hell of a man. Often times, he was straightforward, honest and headstrong. Whether that was a good thing all the time or not, you didn't know. What you did know, was that he could also be soft, kind and caring. The Dean you saw behind closed doors was not the hunter, it was just a boy. Over the time you had gotten to know him, Dean had opened up more than you thought he ever would, and you learned things that made you understand the way he was every day.

Your relationship had, for the most part, been quite normal. Sure, you'd been kidnapped by Crowley once or twice, but that's what you get, dating a Winchester. But, when the King of Hell wasn't being a menace in your local area, you found dating Dean was one of the most calm and natural things you had ever done. Loving him was easy, and being loved by him was the best feeling. 

Dean's love language has always been touch. Physicality was always the way he showed love; hugs, kisses, falling asleep together. You name it, Dean did it. You were never short of love from him. In turn, you always helped him after a hunt, usually when a demon had given him a good fight. Tonight was another one of those nights. 

It was about 9pm, and you were just wandering around your apartment, tidying up a few things before planning to settle on the couch with a good book and some hot chocolate. There was a knock, the same knock that only one man did to let you know it was definitely him. Standing, you opened the door, and there was your boyfriend, bloody and bruised. 

"Dean!" you exclaimed, partly shocked at the state of his face and partly happiness. "Come in, babe, what on Earth happened to you?"

He shook his head and smirked a little, eyes staring into yours. 

"The same thing that always happens, sweetheart."

That gruff, sarcastic voice always tried to make the best of every situation. You chuckled, and brought him to the couch. Fetching a glass of water for him, and some washcloths, you began to clean him up whilst you sat.

Dean still, after all this time, wasn't used to someone helping him in times like this. Not that anyone hadn't ever offered, Sam and Cas most certainly had, but he never took the help. With you, Dean knew he didn't have a choice. You were always there to fix him, in more ways than just this. He wasn't against it, and he didn't think he deserved it most of the time, but it never stopped you and your love was something Dean wouldn't give it up for the world.

As you sat, your legs touched and Dean's hand sat on your thigh, thumb stroking up and down against the fabric of your pyjamas. Every now and then, you'd catch each other's eyes and smile. From previous experience, you knew Dean wasn't too talkative in these moments, and you respected that. Each time you cleaned up a section of his face, you gave him a quick kiss on the area. Slowly but surely, you had patched him up everywhere. 

"There we go,back to normal," you said, then shrugged. "Well, you know, as normal as a hunter can get, at least."

"So, not at all then, hey?" He chuckled, then held his ribs.

"Everything alright, Dean?" you asked,and he lifted his shirt to reveal his bruised rib cage. Your eyes widened. "Dean!"

"Well I figured you can't exactly fix this with water, can you?"

You just shook your head. "You're way too stubborn, Winchester."

"Ahh, you love me anyway, Y/N."

"I do, now get your kit off and change into something less blood-stained." 

He stripped down and fetched a pair of lounge pants from his drawer. Dean came round to your apartment so often you bought a specific set of drawers just for him, growing tired of having no space for your own clothes. You weren't complaining though, there was always something of his for you to wear. 

"Better?"

You spun round to see your boyfriend in just his pants, without his shirt on. You cocked your eyebrow, and smirked.

"Not that I'm complaining, believe me I'm not, but where's your shirt?"

"Nuh-uh," he started, taking your hand and leading you over to the sofa again. "You never mentioned a shirt, just something 'less bloody', and I believe I have fulfilled that request."

"I hate when you're right, Dean."

Dean winked at you and pulled you over to him, so you were straddling his lap. He looked at you, eyes sparkling and smile present. When he smiled like that, his whole faced lit up. But, you knew it was mostly put on, as these situations drained him, and though eh wouldn't admit to it, they scared him. The atmosphere got a bit more serious now you two were seated again.

Dean's hands rested on your hips, and one travelled up to the back of your head, running through your hair as he went. Pulling you forward, you rested your forehead against his. His hand came forward, tracing your jaw and running his thumb along your lips before he spoke.

"Thank you."

Dean's voice was a low whisper, his eyes closed as he just being in the moment. He got very emotional after hunts, and you guessed it was the comedown of adrenaline, or the thankfulness he felt that he could come home. Sometimes, it wasn't too bad, and the risk was low, but he got especially in his feelings after a risky run. Such as now, where he held you and you stroked his hair. Dean listened to your heartbeat, calming himself fully by counting the beats.

"I've always got you," you whispered into his ear, kissing the top of his head. "You don't have to thank me. I'll always be here. No matter what, or however bad it feels, I'm here to fix it. Never forget that. I love you, baby."

A hoarse reply came from the man in your arms.

"I love you too."

Dean looked up, and you could think he was close to crying. He looked tired, very tired. You smiled down, and brought your lips to his. The kiss started soft, your hands on either side of his face and his hands on your waist. He pulled you both down, so you were lying side by side on the sofa, facing each other. The kiss broke, and Dean was looking down at you, fingers tracing up and down your side lazily.

"I got very lucky to have you, sweetheart. I'm sorry things get dangerous, but know that I'll protect you, okay? I'll fight hell twice over for you."

You cuddled into him, and his strong arms enveloped you in a safe warmth you only got with him. You had forgotten all about your hot chocolate and book, but that could wait. For now, you were cherishing the soft moments with your boyfriend, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

Thanks for reading! <3

If you enjoy my content, you can buy me a coffee here :)

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Dawg shoes are so expensive but im dying here from slipping n sliding. Here is some yves fluff about buying you shoes and other things

There was a day where Yves asked you to show him the bottom of your shoe. You asked him why, he simply stated that he found your gait to be "interesting".

He sat you down and explained the wearing patterns on your soles, Yves spoke in such a way, that made you understand completely what he meant, while still sounding sophisticated and professional.

When you visited him again the next day, he presented you with a shoebox. It isn't any ordinary shoebox, it looked luxurious- but not necessarily in a way that screams opulence and unnecessary flaunting. It looked clinical, custom made and backed up by crowds upon crowds of expert podiatrists and relevant studies.

While it may not stand out as a particularly fashionable or particularly hideous piece of footwear, it was outstandingly comfortable. You felt like you could jump, walk and run for hours with these shoes Yves lovingly gifted you. Strangely enough, by fixing your shoes, it also fixed whatever chronic backache or postural problems you had.

Of course, you were extremely grateful for his gift. You gave him a hug and he returned your gratitude by kissing you on the forehead. Needless to say, his arms were wrapped around you tight until he thought you'd had enough of cuddling for that one hour.

He suggested that you and he go somewhere to celebrate. To which you agreed, you said you wanted to go to the carnival that's now in town. Walking shouldn't be a problem for you now. Yves smiled, caressing your hair before holding your hand in his, leading you to his garage where he parks his car.

You didn't question how he managed to get a pair of shoes in your size, in the exact style that you're neutral with, properly crafted to the shape of your feet- all that in less than 24 hours. Usually, companies like these would employ the help of specialized tools and experienced hands, yet you never had to go through any of that.

Apparently, Yves had gleaned enough information about all the arches and bumps of your feet just by looking at the wearing patterns of your old shoes. He did so in less than 6 minutes too.

It couldn't possibly be that he has been observing you for years now. Gathering all kinds of information and measurements without your consent, it's impossible. You and he are still fresh into the relationship, and you didn't think that you're so easily fooled. Absolutely no way Yves had that pair of customized shoes done months before you met him, there is just no way.

You chalked it up to his fascinating quirks. You think that you're observing him as much as he observes you. From what you know, Yves is a highly intelligent man with some odd habits too, such as walking on his toes barefoot. You have never seen him wearing anything else other than impossibly tall heels.

He's impressively and almost unbelievably knowledgeable in everything you were ever interested in. Yves is like a walking, talking and breathing search engine with all the information you would ever want or need. However, you wouldn't have known about his vast mental database if the relevant topics never came up. Who knows what else he's got stowed away up there.

Yet, he's so quiet. Always preferring to hear you speak about your interests and hobbies. Asking Yves about himself will inevitably lead to him flustering you with his playful, yet innocently suggestive teasing and flirting. After all that, you're still unsure what to make of Yves. He never seems to confirm or deny most of the things you asked, constantly skillfully rerouting the conversation to you without you realizing it until it's too late.

Yves always had this intense fascination for you, it definitely made you feel special and bashful as you had a good amount of his attention on your wellbeing and character. But you think that's the extent of it, you never knew how much he truly obsesses over you under that cool, calm, and collected exterior. With how he presents himself and maintains his appearance and health, you would have thought he most obsesses over himself.

But you liked your men capable. He may not be the most masculine with his long, inky black hair in a perpetual gorgeous blowout, his scarlet lips, soft, manicured hand, and androgynously beautiful countenance. But he is definitely the best person you have ever met. Yves cooks for you, does your laundry, cleans your room, fixes your broken appliances, sometimes clothes you, reminds you of your daily obligations and remembers all your important documents, medical details, and appointments... it's almost like you're describing a caretaker. Which isn't necessarily easy to stomach at first, however, Yves assured you time and time again that he enjoys taking care of you. And you believe it because he would do your chores without complaint or without you asking. Or knowing.

He knew what you liked and what you didn't. Yves knew the best time to talk about something and when to touch you. He knew all your favorites and your methods of dealing with various situations. Even if he had never witnessed you go through it before, how did he know what to expect? His predictions were always spot on. It was as if he could read your mind.

You realize you knew nothing about your boyfriend. What you saw is much less than you originally thought. When the hell is his birthday again? You don't remember him telling you, but Yves even knew what phase the moon was when you were born. How old is he, exactly? Yves always evaded that question. Who is he?

You were snapped out of your thoughts when Yves softly called out your name. You turned around to see him holding out a cold bottle of water he bought from a nearby vendor.

Realizing you're baking under the afternoon heat and incredibly thirsty, you took it out of his hands and hastily drank it. While you're busy guzzling down the refreshing stream of crisp water, Yves is blotting the sweat off your face with a piece of facial tissue. You closed your eyes when the gust of wind from Yves's handheld fan blew onto your moistened skin.

You always wondered how he could walk around in black turtlenecks and long dress pants all the time. It didn't bother him that it felt like the pits of hell, he would always cover up most of his skin. Weird, it always seems like he never sweats and he's always picture-ready.

The sounds of excited and horrified screaming coming from the mini rollercoaster ride a few meters away caught your attention. You told Yves that you wanted to get on that ride, completely forgetting about your thoughts and doubts about him earlier.

Yves gave you a gentle smile, nodding as he disposed of the now-empty bottle into a nearby trashcan. Along with the napkin, he didn't need any more biological samples from you now. He didn't have to weigh the bottle to know how much water you decided to leave, thinking it was 'empty'. He didn't have to weigh the tissue to find out how much water you expel by sweating either. Yves already knew from previous trials.

He watches you jog away to the ride, happily waiting in line now that you're adequately hydrated and cooled.

He took his time walking up to the line as he had to pull out his personal notebook and pen, filled with chicken scratch. But it actually contains precious, precious data of what Yves observed from you over a few days. He had noted down so much, that it was almost time for him to replace it with a new one.

He stood nearby, making sure that he could see you as the cart rushes out of the shed to do its' mini loops on the tracks.

It would be a lie to say the thought of being 'not good enough' for him never crossed your mind. You don't know what he likes or have great joy in doing, except for anything related to you. But he doesn't need grandiose display of affection, he doesn't need you to go bankrupt just trying to impress him; a man who can buy anything with his wealth and power.

Yves is content and elated just being in your presence. Even if you're seemingly busy and away from him, he's happy. Because you're never truly away from his vigilant, green eyes. Yves is always watching, always listening, always protecting.

You're always safe.

[alexiswritingstuff]

Is that... lipstick?

Pairing: Castiel x gn! reader.

Other appearances: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Summary: While trying to have a morning like any other, the Winchester brothers notice a certain fact about the reader they apparently hadn’t themselves. Though once they did, it was something... very unexpected. 

Content/Warnings: implied intimacy. nothing explicit unless you want it to be. implied alcohol consumption.

Also this has not been proofread again so be aware that there might be spelling mistakes and such.

A/N: okayokayokay I had this idea from that trend on tiktok where a person would show themselves fixing up their lipstick and then pan to the reason it was messed up in the first place (their partner) and immediately just came up with whatever this was.

Cas is like my go to when writing rn but If someone wants like a Dean x reader version of this... let me know...

Waking up always felt like the most difficult part of the day. A sort of sluggishness continuously pulling at every muscle within your body. A dull ache that pulsed across the temple as if in harmony with a heartbeat. 

There was a list of things that begged you to stay in the comfort of a bed, but you found yourself up and about anyway, ending up in the kitchen with squinting eyes as soon as the harsh lighting consumed your vision. 

You had a milk carton in one hand, while your other held onto a bowl of dry cereal, and you titled it to the side, watching the liquid pour over the bites of paradise until some began to float. 

Sam was sat at the table to your right. His eyes were practically glued to the screen, his fingers typing away like he was doing a test for how fast he could do it. A sound that didn’t exactly help your head, even though there was the hood of a hoodie covering your ears.

“Yo, Sam, you’re the smart one,” you started after returning the milk to its cold home. The frantic pressing of keys ceased all at once, after at least 3 more words had been spelled out. “... What?”

“I’m not... I’m not repeating that-- How do you cure a headache?” you questioned instead, grabbing the spoon you had set down earlier. Sam’s chair squeaked lightly as he leaned back. “Um...”

“I’m pretty sure you could just take an ibuprofen. Or, you know, put a wet towel on your head? Something like that.” 

The younger Winchester sort of looked at you for a minute, though he could only see your back. His eyes analysed your posture, the way that you moved, the way that you stood. And then they narrowed.

His chin slightly tilted up, “Did you drink a lot last night?”

A scoff passed through your lips immediately. “I honestly don’t have an answer to that.” The first mouthful of cereal had been brought to your lips and the second the food touched your tongue, your shoulders relaxed. A sigh seeped through your nose. “I wanna marry the person that made cereal.”

The bowl that really was utter paradise was now in your hands, your fingers gripping onto it for dear life as you finally turned yourself round so that you could lean against the metal island.

“You know that person is dead and has been for... many years, right?” Sam spoke with furrowed eyebrows, the laptop in front of him now long forgotten. “Never stopped me before.” was all you had said before another spoonful was shovelled into your mouth.

At this point a set of footsteps had started echoing through the hallway, and after Sam looked at you with either disgust or concern, or both, his eyes went to the doorway.

“Whoa.” Dean’s feet halted for a moment as he looked between his relieved looking brother and the gremlin thing that was practically hunched over a bowl. “What kind of meeting is this?”

You swallowed, “One where people stop asking questions first thing in the morning.” you responded lazily, gathering more of the contents into your spoon. Dean raised his eyebrows for a second, only to nod his head a second later when his brother sent him a shrug. 

“Well,” He continued his previous movements and was now officially in the kitchen, beginning to make his way through the space between the island and the table. “As long as I get breakfast out of it, I---”

Dean stopped almost as fast as he had started. And soon enough, by the time your mouth was yet again full, it seemed that the man was now stood to your side.

It wasn’t until you looked up that you had actually noticed those green eyes of his were aimed right at you, even though you hadn’t uttered a word. You could only blink for a moment.

“What?” you finally questioned, the word barely audible through the mush. 

But Dean still stared, mouth agape and eyes flickering over almost every inch of your face in a way that made you want to fold in on yourself. You swallowed again, “Wha-- What? What is it?”

The man before you took about a step backwards, allowing Sam to have you in his line of sight. And then he practically mirrored Dean’s expression, his eyebrows beginning to raise as if they were aiming for the ceiling. “... oh.” 

“Oh.” Dean said himself.

Then suddenly, as if the final cog had turned in his head, the face that was once frozen in shock had morphed into this shit eating grin that curled in a beyond terrifying way.

He started laughing. 

It wasn’t his usual huffed one, a giggle, or even those little ones he did when making fun of someone. This man was full on cackling in a way that had him bending at the knees.

Sam himself did a bit better at hiding his reaction to whatever it was they were seeing, though his lips sort of trembled as they tucked very tightly together.

You placed the bowl onto the island behind you, arms now crossed over your chest, as you looked between the boys like a disappointed teacher. “Am I going to have to wait a year for you to tell me what the hell is going on?”

“Oh-- Oh, man, this-- this is-- Oh, my god, this is great!” Dean strained out through even more hard laughs while you looked back and forth between the brothers, desperately trying to gage what had happened. “What?”

Finally, after asking the same question over and over again for what felt like the millionth time at this point, and after Sam managed to clear his throat without cracking, he spoke up. “Have you, uh...”

“Have you looked in a mirror at all this morning?”

You shook your head slowly, your eyebrows now very much furrowed if they weren’t before, “No... Why?”

Dean couldn’t even properly speak at this point, as every attempt to contain that urge of laughter ended in yet another fit. “You-- Man, I want-- Ha! I want a picture of this.” he managed out after a few tries, and even began to pat at his pockets as best as he could in his condition.

Though, the laugh and the lack of understand of what the hell was happening made you feel very self-conscious in that moment... You had to admit that it was very nice to see Dean like that, let alone hear that sort of laughter that hasn’t been heard in a very long time.

After staring at the man who was still in absolute hysterics for a second longer, your eyes travelled back over to Sam when he cleared his throat again, and even scrunched his nose in an attempt to calm himself down.

“Yeah,” he started through a slight hushed voice as he nodded his head, “I think it’s best if you go look, just-- No reason.” 

It was literally first thing in the morning. Your energy levels didn’t even exist at this point, and all you really wanted to do was just eat your damn cereal in peace... but nevertheless.

You complied. 

Your gaze flicked back and forth between the brothers one more time before you pushed yourself off of the island and moved towards the doorway, your feet dragging with every step.

Another round of laughter erupted as soon as you had left the room. 

~

Various grumbles joined by the hum of electronic power were the only sounds that echoed through the annoyingly bright halls.

Though the air that circulated was cool, it never seemed to ease the warm rush of embarrassment that burned around your body, despite not even knowing the cause.

After walking through the maze like hallways within the bunker, that felt even longer when tired, you had found yourself in front of the large dark door that held the shower room behind it.

With all the strength you could muster in your state, you turned so that your shoulder could lean on the wood. Your hand grabbed at the handle that was so cold underneath your fingertips that you had almost immediately retracted. As if electrocuted.

The door swung open within the next second, but as soon as it had done so, instead of taking a step inside, your hands now jolted up to cover your eyes, “Jesus!” You blinked more times than anyone could count, your eyelids barely even making it halfway before they had to shut again.

The walls in the room were basically all white, meaning that the light emitted from the ceiling just purely bounced around every nook and cranny. “Might as well be looking at the damn sun.” you muttered to yourself, an irritated sigh following after.

Once you had at least mildly managed to get adjusted to the disgraceful lighting, you allowed yourself to shuffle into the equally cold room.

Soon enough, your heavy body ended up at the sink, your hands grasping along the rim of the bowl in an attempt to stabilise yourself when another ache had pulsed along your forehead.

You took in a deep breath through your nose and held it there for a few seconds. Your eyes landed on the mirror that sat before you, the blinking beginning all over again as the reflection being seen was only blurry.

But thus, after a good minute of being in that bathroom, your body allowed itself to adjust to everything that continuously attacked your senses. 

One last blink was all it took before you could see yourself in the glass as clear as day... And everything that came with it.

“Oh... my god.”

Your face was brought closer to the mirror within an instant, your previously tired and heavy eyes becoming fully open in alarm as they were now the ones to search across the skin of your face.

On almost every single feature, that you could see in front of you, was an imprint from a certain cosmetic.

Most entirely followed the outline that very clearly resembled the shape of lips, but others were smudged, some even dragging to where another had been placed.

Lipstick.

There was an odd texture that you had felt tighten the indents of your face this morning, but never in your life would you have imagined that this was the reason. You thought your skin was just being weird.

Your body was frozen. No matter how hard you thought in that moment, there was absolutely no recollection of the previous night. Or who even owned lipstick.

The eyes that stared back at you were almost wild now, a sort of panic surging through your veins at the lack of any memory... Though, it faded into something else as fast as it had started.

Your hood had slipped off the back of your head after your sudden movement. And now, upon gazing at the new areas exposed to you, your eyes ended up travelling even lower. Which now left you realising yet another thing.

The marks weren’t only on your face.

Your heart was purely hammering in your chest, all of the previous confusion and disorientation from earlier fuelling the fire that was panic, as you slowly pushed yourself backwards to stand up straight.

There was a print of lips halfway under the neckline of your hoodie.

Your hands raised, almost frightened, to grip at the fabric. And soon you had it between your fingers, realising now that the texture of that too had been altered from stains that you were guessing happened during everything else.

With a slight shake to your breath, and a squeeze of the material in your grasp, you gingerly began to pull it away so that the skin of your torso was properly revealed in the light--

It was slammed back to your chest within the next second. An audible gasp had even spilled from your lips as you found your gaze in the mirror yet again. Eyes still wide, almost unblinking.

“Holy...”

Your feet took a stumbled step away from the sink, your fingers still tightly clutched to your hoodie, as if it was a set of pearls. But even that couldn’t hide the set prints that apparently travelled a lot further than you thought. The more parts that you looked at, the more stains you found.

Your body had been a canvas to a painter you couldn’t remember.

At this point, you were stood in the centre of the room. Every emotion felt morphing into one thing that spread from your head to your toes.

And then you turned, twisting slow on your feet until your hazed eyes landed on at least one of those large showers that seemed more appealing than they had ever in the morning.

How the hell did you get lipstick off?

~

To rid the skin of countless stains took longer than you had originally thought.

Most of your body felt raw. As if you had scrubbed it with sandpaper for hours on end, though it was just your hands. All was worth it, however, as the previous marks were no more.

For the first time throughout the entire morning, the air that engulfed you within the hallway relieved the warmth that clung as you walked through it, your fresh set of clothes slightly sticking to your body more and more with every step.

You ruffled your towel through your damp hair, the ache in your temple now caused by your eyebrows that were furrowed due to the multitude of thoughts that filtered both in and out of your mind.

An act that almost had you walking right past your own bedroom.

Another grumble murmured through your lips as you turned to the side, opening the door like you had done with the one for the shower room. And then you walked in, the fuzz in your mind apparently stopping you from noticing the light that illuminated its contents.

One that previously wasn’t on at all.

Your head shook, as if all the action going on in your mind would just let go.

Instead of getting closer to figuring out last night's mystery, you were getting further away... Or nowhere at all.

You went round the edge of your bed, taking your towel in both hands before stretching the material out completely so that you could drape it across the radiator along the wall.

A breath was brought slowly in and out of your lungs after taking a step back from the warmth. Your spine uncurled from it’s miserable slouch, your arms practically going limp by your sides while your eyes fell closed.

You reached backwards after a moment, hands patting through the air until you managed to locate the mattress that was screaming your name. But instead, you just sat yourself down. Attempting a final try to get to the bottom of everything. “Come on, man.” 

At this point, your head was lowered onto your hands that had previously been clasped together moments before. 

You tried everything. Thinking back to what you had done before the timeframe of the... event, who it could’ve been. I mean, Sam and Dean would surely have asked questions if it was someone they didn’t know, right?

Still, even after all of that, and the extra seconds you took to wrack through your brain for even the slightest memory from last night. Something that could just spark your brain and give you the answer. There was nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

“Dammit.” you breathed out, your body now falling limp against your lap as your shoulders deflated with it.

There was almost this feeling of shame that pierced through every other one.

It wasn’t so much so about the fact that you couldn’t remember if you had gone out, or brought someone back into your own home, as much as it was about the fact that you had shared such an intimate experience with a person. And you couldn’t remember a single thing.

Who the hell--

“Y/n?”

Your head snapped up within a second, your body following suit in a way that made it seem like you were about to go flying into the wall when you had managed to stand. “Jesus!”

The heel of your foot had twisted so quickly that it almost gave your skin carpet burn. Your arms were up and ready as you looked throughout the room to find the intruder...

And then your eyes landed on your bed. More importantly, those familiar set of blue eyes that stared right back at you.

Your shoulders eased back down as they had done earlier, your calloused hands raising before rubbing at the soft skin of your face, that felt even nicer after that shower.

“Okay, yeah-- I think Dean is right, man. You’ve gotta stop just appearing like that.” you practically groaned out as you pinched at the bridge of your nose.

“Well, I... I seem to have been here before you walked in.”

Your fingers dragged away from the warm skin beneath it so that you could allow your gaze to find the man, who was most definitely not helping your confusion. “Huh?”

Especially when you had actually located him.

Because of your previous glance, you had thought that Cas was just sat on your bed for whatever reason he desired.

Though now, as you properly stared back at him, finally registering that sort of grogginess that further emphasised the gravel to his voice when he had spoken, you had noticed that he was in fact under the covers.

Your covers.

His torso was practically twisted just so that he could meet your eyes while his own were narrowed, adjusting to the light, and almost looked puffy as if he had just woken up.

Your eyebrows were most definitely furrowed if they weren’t before. “I thought angels didn’t sleep.” You were about to say. Another mystery that you had to solve... but instead, just as the words were going to roll off of your tongue, your brain had fully taken in the appearance of the person before you.

Castiel’s hair was dishevelled, heavily contrasting the way it usually sat, which in itself was most unusual.

And then you saw it.

No words could even begin to pass through your lips in that moment. No matter how hard you tried. There wasn’t a sound, or even a vowel.

“Y/n?” Cas questioned before clearing his throat, slowly pushing himself upward until he could sit upright and even did his signature head tilt when he was properly facing you. “What’s wrong?” He fought with an urge to yawn.

You couldn’t move. Your eyes were just glued to his lips. A set that seemed to be layered with a sort of faded deep red which smudged severely over the skin surrounding his mouth, especially towards the corners. “Oh.”

Castiel’s eyebrows furrowed at the lack of fullness to your voice.

It appeared that your mystery was solved.

You had found your mystery painter.

“Oh.”

[the-night-moves-writing]

Her Rescuers

The Winchesters X sibling reader

Summary: When the whole world finds out about another Winchester the relationship you have with your brothers might take a hit, but can you all pull through to keep your bond strong or will your own self loathing be the death of what you hold dearest

Warnings: Angsty, A bit of self doubting, self loathing, Mentions of J*hn Winchester (this man is absolutely a warning)

Characters: Sam Winchester x Sibling reader, Dean Winchester x sibling reader, mentions of Castiel

Word count: 1395

A/N: Hi guys! Its been a hot minute since i posted anything on here! I was inspired to write more lately though so i thought i might as well share it with you! Also i tried to be as gender neutral as possible but if i did mess up let me know and i can fix that! Thanks!

I've been stuck in this castle, up in a tower. Been waiting forever on a rescuer to save me. The castle was never literal, it was always a metaphor for the life I am trapped in. Searching for an escape from life is pointless and useless, being a hunter will always follow me. My brothers have always tried to protect me but with the monsters and the demons and the angels everywhere it was only a matter of time before things went wrong before they found out about me. I was always kept in the dark, Sam and Dean claimed it was safer that way. 

The youngest Winchester would always be Sam to the outside world, but we all knew it was me. Though I knew my brothers couldn't see me as one of them, they hunted and I didn’t, they protected the world and I couldn't, they were John and Mary’s kids and I wasn't. All I was is a product of my fathers grief after the loss of his wife. I knew just as well as anyone that I was undeserving to carry the Winchester name. That was until I was needed. Once the angels knew of my existence it was only a matter of time till everyone else did too. Word spread to demons

and monsters alike, the existence of another Winchester was a big deal, it was a weakness to exploit, and so I was forced into this life.

 Dean and Sam were unhappy with the development but there was nothing they could do but train me to protect myself and get me prepared for whatever came our way, the tattoo and the rib branding by Cas sucked but with my brothers insisting they were necessary how could I refuse. Now here I am trapped in my metaphorical tower waiting for a prince that will never come. In reality stuck in a fucking bunker awaiting my freedom which I will never have again. I know that this is for the better but why do I feel this sadness, I mean I got what I wanted didn’t I? To be a part of what my brothers were a part of, but this sadness still follows me around like a lost dog. One thing I've found is that there are no coping mechanisms, at least no healthy ones. Just so much pain and alcohol, sometimes drug use too. 

The self destructiveness of it all is killing me. I remember how my brothers were before all of this happened, they sent me to school and brought me back trinkets from the towns they visited. They were happy to see me and I was happy to see them too. We would play boring games and watch movies. Now everything has changed. I no longer go to school and they no longer bring me trinkets. Sometimes we hunt together but it's mostly quiet and usually Dean is yelling that I've screwed up, like I dont know I'm not good enough. I want things to go back to how they were, and I know that this is mostly my brothers blaming themselves, they were supposed to protect me, they were older. Dean always said if one of us could get out it would be me. That when I got to live in a nice house, with a husband and kids that he’d visit, be uncle Dean, and bring Sam along to be uncle Sammy.

 Now all of those dreams he had for me have disappeared, and he and Sam are kicking themselves for not protecting me better. I hear a knock at my bedroom door that breaks my thoughts 

“Y/N we need to talk sweetheart” Dean's voice comes through my door steady but nervous

“Sure” I call back to answer “I’ll meet you in the library”

I get up from my desk to head to the library, anxiety nips at my heels as i walk down the corridor into the room, and i look to see Dean and Sam sitting at the mahogany table staring at the spot where their names had been carved

“You guys needed something?” i say my voice still shaky from the nerves swarming my body like bees 

Sam looks up at me first, then turns to Dean allowing him to answer me

“Yes, sit down baby” Dean says without meeting my gaze 

I knew this would be bad, the boys hadn’t called me baby in years after I had claimed I was “too old” and “grew out of it”. Hearing that old nickname gave me chills as I pulled out a chair and waited with anticipation as to what was going to happen next.

“I…. um We wanted to say that we are sorry.” Dean stumbled through his words, something that was very out of character for him to do 

“What are you guys sorry for?” I said staring at Sam who still was yet to meet my eyes then turning to Dean who, as it seemed was now also refusing to look at me.

“I… uh… well we know that things have been strained and different as of late.” Sam finally spoke still not looking up from what must have been a very interesting spot on the table

“You mean since heaven and hell and everything in between found out I exist.” i stated plainly as the boys seemed to stare harder away from me at my tone and words

“We weren't trying to make you feel bad but in our own self pity, of not being able to protect you we made you upset. We miss you sweetheart, we miss your smiles and the way you laugh, we miss how you used to run and meet us at the door after a hunt. We… were just sorry things have to be this way now.” Dean seemed to have to force the words from his lips to spill into the air, hanging above all three of us like a dangerous sword that could fall at any second. 

“I miss you guys too.” i stated “ i miss the way Sam used to braid my hair and the way Dean made sure i ate,i miss the games we played in the car when you would drive me to school or the trinkets you would bring me back from hunts. But I really just miss my older brothers.”  I said my voice softened to a whisper at the end as tears welled up in my eyes. I felt them finally move to look at me but this time it was I who could not bring myself to look up at them. While staring at my hands in my lap I heard the sound from the other side of the table, the movement of a chair. When I looked up Sam and Dean had made their way around the table to where I was seated. 

“We are so sorry baby, we didn't mean for any of this to happen.” Sam stated

“All we wanted was to protect you and give you the life we couldn’t have” Dean said finishing Sams thought

Dean who had moved to squat by my feet stared up at me, looking at me I saw the gears turn in his head

“ I have a surprise for you though, we just got back from hunting a vampire pack out in washington.” he said, shoving a hand in his right side jacket pocket “ I got you something you might like”.  He pulled out a little key chain and grabbed my hand to place it in my palm. Staring at the little keychain in my hand I felt tears begin to run down my face and chin. Sam moved to hug me as Dean went to wipe the tears from my skin. 

I knew at this moment that I was not a weakness to the boys nor a Winchester but Sam and Deans little sister. That this was what I was missing so desperately, that this is what I had wanted. 

I was never stuck in a tower nor being denied my freedom, I was merely a princess who had exiled herself to her room with her princely big brothers guarding her, ensuring her safety and even pulling her out when she needed it the most. Even fighting off the loneliness and sadness that may try to cause her harm. Her Rescuers.

[monstermoviedean]

to offer an additional thought on castiel's headspace

dean up until the rupture argument is kind of blunt and rude to castiel, and had previously stated if mary was gone, castiel was dead to him.

now, dean is not obligated to forgive castiel, but when castiel hears "why does it always seem to be you" he hears "why do you keep failing" and assumes any affection dean had for him has gone.

so he decides to leave because he thinks that up until this point (and started putting up with him) after 14x18, dean has just been putting up with him, so even if castiel knows dean has requested he stick around in the past, hes presuming any past requests no longer apply.

and dean is presuming castiel has finally realized that dean is toxic or something, so he doesnt wanna hold him down, especially if dean saw how distraught cas's expression was and regretted causing it.

anyway. i care about them sooooo much

i understand where you're coming from, and you make a lot of valid points. i do disagree on a few points - and i'm aiming for a discussion tone here, not a critical one, so i hope it comes across that way!

on dean being blunt and rude - i think you're referring to 15x01, when dean asks if cas is okay and then ends the conversation? and the 15x02 conversation about reality and the 15x03 fight? the latter two I'm iffy on. i'm fine saying dean was blunt, and definitely rude in the latter convo. but i also think cas backs him into a corner and demands a conversation dean isn't ready to have. i talked about that a little bit here. that's not to say that dean can say whatever he wants - just that cas is starting these conversations when dean can't really handle them. also, a little funny that cas can often be referred to as blunt and/or rude.

the line about cas being dead to him. ugh. that one i want to blame on berens. but if i take it at face value, yup, that's an unfair and hurtful thing to say! i don't think dean means it but that doesn't negate the hurt it causes.

dean isn't obligated to forgive - yes! and i'd like to add that cas hasn't given much of an apology yet. he's said he's sorry but that's about the extent of it. i've seen people discuss cas "playing" sorry rather than being sorry in the context of s7. while i don't think that's entirely true here, and i do believe cas is sorry, i also think it would have meant a lot to dean if cas sincerely apologized and showed he meant it by giving dean space. cas is not obligated to do this either, of course.

me personally, i don't think whether dean asks cas to stay or not factors much into cas' decision-making. i hear you on past requests not applying anymore, and i see the logic. but for me, cas didn't really honor those past requests either. he came and went as he pleased. so i have a little trouble believing that this was the one time cas wanted to stay and was going to stay if he'd "been allowed," just because the past pattern is primarily dean asking cas to stay and cas choosing to leave.

also, i have no evidence for this, but i would expect the bunker reminded cas of jack. i would imagine staying there would be difficult even if everything was fine between cas and dean.

i think this is an unstoppable force (cas) / immovable object (dean) situation. cas needs to push forward, he needs to talk things through with dean regardless of the consequences, he can't bear to have something "unfixed" when he could "fix" it. dean needs space and time to process his grief and anger and fear, and he can't handle those boundaries being pushed. they're both deeply hurt and they both hurt each other. it's not fair to either of them and it's awful to watch.

and on your last point - yes, i care about them so much too 😭 i've been focusing mainly on dean's perspective here because i see so many discussions of the rupture that essentially blame dean for everything - but i do try to understand cas' perspective too, and i value it.

[samkat10423]

Capp Manor

I really, really hated the Capp manor in the Sims 2. It was one of the reasons I never played that family. So - while danjaley recreated it for her town and did a good job - I knew I would never keep it. I actually opened it up, took a look around, and said, "Yep, still hate it."

So in my town history, the old manor house burned down. Some sims whisper that those Monty boys had something to do with it. But, more likely it was Tybalt falling asleep while smoking his weed. In any event, if 'el cheapo' Consort supported the local fire district, the firemen wouldn't have taken that detour to the pizzeria when the call came in, saying his house was on fire. But he doesn't and they did. And the rest is history.

Luckily, the house was insured, so he was able to rebuild the place - bigger and better. Even had some simoleons left over to replace the non-existent horse barn he swore was on the property and lost in the fire.

Because he's older than dirt and stairs hurt his knees, his bedroom is on the ground level. It's a combo study, bedroom, dressing room, and bath.

And here's the rest of the floor.

The first bedroom, at the top of the stairs, belongs to Tybalt. It's also the biggest, because he's a guy and Consort is secretly patrilineal, even though he bowed to the Capp demand that he give up his surname when he married into the family. So, of course, his grandson gets the biggest and best room. Besides, Tybalt is the first male to be born into the family in several generations, so he IS the PRINCE!!!! And don't you forget it!

The two girls get what's left - Juliette in the one with the pink-striped bed and Hermia in the purple room. Juliette is actually happy she got the room she got, because it's close to the back stair, which makes it easier to sneak out. Hermia doesn't care. She's got her horse and that's all that matters to her.

Anyway, that's their new house. I do have to go back in and re-do the wallpaper on that one hallway wall. And fix the floor by the back stair case. But apart from that, it is what it is. I can't remember where I got this house. I think it was Mod the Sims, but it could have been TSR. In any event, I redecorated it inside and out. And I think it fits this family better. I do not plan on putting any family graves on this lot - like they had in the Sims 2. The Capps have a perfectly good church that they go to, that has an adjacent graveyard. So all the dead family members will go there. These aren't the Goths after all.

BTW, danjaley provided all the main families for this town - complete with their Sims 2 bios. Which is super nice. I have added to their stories here and there. Mostly to give more info on why they hate each other. For instance, Consort is a complete narcissist. He doesn't have a clue why his former college roommate and BFF got mad when he 1) secretly stole his fiancé and 2) ran off with her on the day they were to get married, leaving poor Patrizio standing there, waiting at the altar. Or why Pat got upset when Contessa and he talked her father into booting Patrizio out of the company he had helped build.

I have taken the sims into CAS - even though I hate it - because I use custom skins, hairs and make-up on my sims. Plus this was made a long time ago, and I decided to update their wardrobes a tad. But if you decide to use her world, she provides the families - and even a save file. I chose not to use the save because I knew I'd be making some changes to the town.

[vaicomcas]

I think we should talk more about post canon Cas, Meg, Baltazar and Crowley dynamics

Post canon because it's easy to work on the dynamics after everything is said and done.

Both Batlh and Meg are important to Cas and see Crowley as a threat. And I am talking about a scenario where Crowstiel are testing waters with their relationship

For Meg, throughout their saty at the ward and after Cas came back from purgatory, Crowley was trying to kill him. She basically died to keep Crowley away from Cas

She won't have the best relationship with her killer after she comes back.

And when Baltazar died, Cas was working with Crowley and it was one of the biggest problems everyone had.

I think they both would be scared and worried and angry.

I also think Meg would come around quicker.

For a bunch of reasons

Killing baltazar is something that weighs a lot on Cas, he won't just approach Balth except for an apology.

and the way in which Castiel's relationship with heaven worsened. He is likely to confide more in Meg and Crowley and even Rowena.

Like from heaven's and Baltazar'a pov, they will have Cas spending time with demons he is too find of for the angels to be comfortable.

Also Meg would get a long with Rowena, I just know it and they will gang up on Crowley. And Crowley will make rulling Hell, hell by being the master of the Hellhounds.

That's something that would be interesting and funny and has lot of potential

Comming back to angels, they will take a long time to come around each other. There is a lot of pain and hurt and betrayal amongst them.

Also fixing relationships between Cas and angels will start only after Cas deals with the crushing guilt he lives with.

Like there is so much explored of these characters.

I have no idea why SPN writes insisted to making those two flannel clad nightmares the main characters, the only thing that can be done with them is

I lied to my brother-I messed up-my brother is in danger- we broke the world

It gets boring after third round

What you have here all makes sense and I agree, can be interesting to think about.

However I'm not sure it would be "post canon". Canon-wise, Jack brought back those Chuck killed-- but I don't get the sense he brought back "everybody who had ever been killed"? granted, I didn't really watch 5x19 and 5x20, and certainly not the "prequel", so I could be missing some information, but I wouldn't think post finale universe includes resurrected Meg and Balthazar.

The show's storylines for angels is done with such absolute malice and disdain it's pretty much impossible to explore it fairly without going non-compliant with canon. The whole thing about Balthazar is so senseless, that I just think it doesn't even deserve to be "resolved" as if it was an organic storyline. I intend to stay in denial, anyway.

So, you should definitely explore these things as you like, I'd only suggest there is no need to tie it to canon.

[quicksilver-castiel]

In the family way

A birthday gift for @heavenssexiestangel - happy birthday, bestie!

Omegaverse, Gadreel/Dean and Midam, ca. 2.8k of mostly fluff and some brotherly bonding.

Read on AO3

Despite how carefully Gadreel tried to move, Dean still grumbled in his sleep, pressing his back against Gadreel’s front as if to tell him to come back, stat. Smiling, Gadreel brushed a hand through Dean’s tousled hair, which was shining almost golden where stripes of light fell on him through the blinds. It had been getting longer, framing his pretty face and occasionally falling over his eyes and making him squint adorably.

The memory of those occasions made Gadreel smile, and he leaned over to kiss Dean’s temple.

“I must go to work, love,” he whispered against Dean’s skin, and got a disgruntled sound as response.

“Play hooky,” Dean slurred, obviously not as asleep as Gadreel had thought him to be.

“Love,” Gadreel chided him, “you know that I shouldn’t.”

Dean sighed, and turned towards him, blinking his eyes open. Gadreel shifted on the bed, making space for Dean’s belly.

“Yeah, I know,” Dean said, but he was pouting.

Dean knew how important Gadreel’s work was, and that he was watched more closely and judged more harshly than most others. Even though his relationship to his family was better than it had ever been in his life, he was still the grand-child of the man who had supposedly betrayed them.

Gadreel had never been certain about his grand-father’s motivations in his collaboration with a rival family, but it still weighed heavily on him even all these decades later. Sombrely, Gadreel touched Dean’s belly. His own children would be rid of that stigma, he thought. He would make sure that no one, in or out of the family, would ever treat them as less than.

“Babe?” Dean asked, his voice soft as he cupped Gadreel’s face with one hand while the other hand came to rest on top of Gadreel’s on his belly. “You okay?”

“Yes, love.” Gadreel leaned in to kiss him, ignoring Dean’s morning breath. Dean also graciously didn’t mention Gadreel’s morning breath in return. “Go back to sleep.”

“What, so you can skip breakfast?” Dean grunted, and threw the covers off himself. “No way. I’m making omelette."

“You don’t have to,” Gadreel said, but Dean was already sitting up, stretching and running a hand through his hair. It did nothing to fix how wildly the strands stuck out from his head, but it was still entirely adorable.

“I’ll even put in that horrible green stuff you like,” Dean said as he put on his slippers. They were soft and fluffy and Gadreel always forgot what the character they were modelled after was called. It was from one of those shows starting with Star.

“Red paprika and corn aren’t green,” Gadreel teased him as he got up from the bed too, and finally turned on the light.

Dean groaned at the sudden assault on his eyes, and even Gadreel had to blink a few times before he adjusted to the brightness.

“It’s green in spirit,” Dean muttered as he pulled on his robe, and he trotted out of the room to go downstairs.

Gadreel smiled at Dean’s back, and the big Starforce sign - or whatever it was called - on the robe, before turning to his wardrobe and selecting clothes for the day. It should be a slow day, he thought, but then in his profession, you never really knew beforehand.

With some clothes in hand, Gadreel went to the bathroom, and emerged a few minutes later freshly showered and dressed. As he walked down the stairs, he could already hear and smell the signs of Dean’s heavenly cooking. There was also music on, and Dean was humming along to the voice of Belinda Carlisle.

Dean had been dismissive at first about Gadreel’s taste in music, but as time had gone on, he’d come around to some of the artists.

Gadreel walked up behind Dean, who stopped swaying his hips and leaned back against him when Gadreel circled him with his arm.

“The omelettes are gonna burn,” Dean said with a smile in his voice.

Gadreel kissed his temple and patted his belly one more time before drawing back and setting the table.

“Busy or slow day today?” Dean asked after a while, as he transferred the omelettes onto plates for them. He said it casually, but Gadreel could see the tension in his shoulders.

“Slow,” he just said, and watched Dean relax.

They both knew that something might happen at any time, but Gadreel preferred not to think about it too much. If something happened to Gadreel, at least as his mate, Dean would be able to keep the house. Some of his money may go to the rest of Gadreel’s family, but he thought that they would help Dean if it came to that.

Not that it would. Gadreel would give his all to always come back home to Dean in the evening.

Every evening.

Gadreel had been gone for two hours when someone rang the doorbell.

Dean had been resting on the couch after cleaning the kitchen and the upstairs bathroom - something that Gadreel always told him not to do while pregnant, but couldn’t stop him from doing when he wasn’t there.

Now Dean heaved himself off the couch. He checked who was standing in front of the door through their security camera feed, as Ree had taught him. Then he grinned, and opened the door.

“Hey,” Adam said, frowning at Dean’s grin. “Did I interrupt something? Gadreel isn’t here, right?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Can’t a guy be happy to see his brother? Come in.”

Adam huffed, but stepped inside, hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I’m just here to check on the bulge,” he said, his expression softening when he looked at Dean’s belly.

Dean put a hand on it. “The bulge is good. And so am I, thanks for asking,” Dean teased him, and led him towards the living room. “You want anything? Coffee?”

Adam sighed as he sat down on the couch. “I wanna say yes, but Raph’s gonna kill me if I break my promise about drinking less caffeine.”

“Dude’s a hypocrite. Have you seen how much of the stuff he drinks?” Dean huffed, and sat down next to Adam.

“Sure he’s a hypocrite, just like everyone else in this family.”

It was still surreal to hear Adam just casually dunk on members of one of the most dangerous families in the area. But then, he was as close to the main family as he could be, and was allowed to.

“How’s Michael?” Dean asked, not because he really cared, but because he was always trying to gauge from Adam’s reaction to the question if the two were doing okay, or if Dean needed to get his little brother out of that relationship.

Adam sighed. Oh no.

“Recently, he’s been… having ideas,” Adam said.

Dean tensed. “What kind of ideas?”

Adam’s eyes flitted back to Dean’s belly. “You know how technically, Alphas can get pregnant?”

Dean blinked at him. Yes, it was technically possible - highly unlikely, but doable.

“Wait… he wants to impregnate you???”

Adam looked at him as if he was the stupidest person alive. “What? No, he knows I don’t want that.”

“But then…” Dean’s brain short-circuited. Adam and Michael were both Alphas…

Adam sighed. “Don’t tell him I told you, but he’s been practically gagging for it lately. It’s like he’s in rut, even though that won’t be for another few weeks…”

Dean stared at him, gaping. Michael Shurley, head of the top mafia family, alpha-est of Alphas, who ruled the city without mercy… was gagging to have a baby put into him?!

“He even spoke to Raphael. There are ways to make it more likely,” Adam kept talking, apparently not noticing that Dean was already reeling from this info.

“And you…” Dean shook his head, trying to get his wits together. “You don’t want a kid?”

“Don’t get me wrong. A kid would be great,” Adam said defensively. “I just always figured we’d adopt. The risk of complications is higher for Alphas, and then there’s Michael’s work…”

Something clicked for Dean. “You’re worried about him.”

Adam looked unhappy. “I know he can take care of himself, but…”

“He’s your mate,” Dean said gently, “it’s normal that you’re worried.”

Adam huffed. “I’m also worried that my dick will fall off if we keep doing it that often.”

“Okay, TMI.” Dean held up his hands and Adam laughed.

“Sorry. We were supposed to be talking about you, and the bulge.”

“We already did. Me ‘n the bulge are good. But are you sure you don’t want that coffee? Sounds like Michael’s keeping you awake a lot.” Dean grinned as Adam huffed again.

Adam looked tempted, but shook his head. “If we really get a kid, it won’t help if one of the dads dies of a heart attack.”

Dean snorted. “Our mates are in the wrong line of work to be worried about that.”

Adam looked at him for a long moment. “Do you regret it? Mating Gadreel?”

“Hell no,” Dean said, putting both hands on his belly. “Meeting Ree is the best thing that ever happened to me. I would never regret making him my mate.”

Adam looked at him calculatingly for a long moment. Then a smile passed over his face. “Yeah, I figured. You guys are sickeningly lovey-dovey,” he teased.

Dean huffed. “Oh, and you and Michael aren’t sweet on each other at all.”

“Please. We’re very subtle.”

“U-huh. That why you always sit basically in each other’s laps? Subtlety?”

Adam rolled his eyes, but he was smiling again. “Shut up.”

Dean hesitated. “You know, I didn’t think it was a good thing at first. You and Michael.”

Adam shrugged. “Well, I thought at first that Gadreel was using you, so. Can’t really judge you for that.”

Dean nodded, feeling tension bleeding out of his shoulders. His baby brother wasn’t mad at him anymore. And not just that, but Adam was all grown up, thinking about having kids with his mate.

It felt like yesterday that Adam had been a cranky teenager, mad at everything and everyone.

“Hey, did you already think of a name?” Adam asked.

“For the kid?” Dean massaged his belly. “Not really. We have some options, but couldn’t really settle on one yet.”

“Michael already has a list.” Adam sighed.

Dean stopped in his movements. “I thought he wasn’t even pregnant yet?”

“He’s not. But you know him, he’s kind of a control-freak. He has lists for everything. Spreadsheets, even. Everytime he finds a new name, he sends me the updated list - it has the names, meanings, culture of origin, as well as several links to sources to make sure the meaning is correct.” Adam rolled his eyes when Dean just stared at him. “Like I said. Control-freak. I mean, not that it’s wrong to want to get the meaning right, you know, but then I also don’t see a reason to call our kid by a name from another culture. Would feel a little weird, I guess. And I know all the biblical names have been used up in his family at this point. But maybe, I don’t know, we could go with something traditional. Bob. Jerry.” Adam looked away. “Kate. You know…”

After Adam’s mom. Dean nodded. “Yeah. I’ve also been thinking about going with ‘Mary’ if the kid’s a girl.”

Adam blinked at him. “You don’t know yet?”

Dean shrugged. “Ree knows. I asked him not to tell me. People get so crazy about this stuff - what’s the primary gender, what’s the secondary, as if that means anything about the person the kid will become. I don’t want to get presents for the kid all in one colour, and I don’t want to fall into that trap myself. At least until the kid is born, I don’t want to build up weird expectations.”

Adam nodded thoughtfully.

“We’re going to paint the kid’s room in all the colours of the rainbow,” Dean added.

“Well, as the resident gay uncle, I approve,” Adam said with a twinkle in his eyes. “Or pan uncle, or whatever. You know what I mean.”

Dean ducked his head, trying to hide his smile. Adam had never called himself the kid’s uncle before.

“Anyway, the other resident gay uncle will be all over the kid once it’s here.” Adam sighed. “Michael is already looking at baby clothes all the time, so expect a shit ton of those as presents.”

“He really has baby fever, huh,” Dean said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Yup. It’s kind of cute, but also kind of annoying.”

Only Adam could use both ‘cute’ and ‘annoying’ for Michael without having to fear for his life.

“Oh, well.” Adam cleared his throat and got up. “I didn’t mean to rant at you all day. Uh, call me if you guys need help painting the nursery.”

Dean had been planning on painting it himself, but if it would mean spending more time with his brother… maybe he could ask for help for once.

“Thanks, Adam,” he said. “Keep me in the loop on the whole baby thing with Michael, yeah? Uhhh, not too many details on the process though.”

Adam laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m not planning on telling you about what we do in the bedroom - or various surfaces in other rooms.” He grinned and winked at Dean, who shuddered.

He really didn’t want to think about Adam fucking Michael, thank you very much.

“Get outta here,” Dean just said, and brought Adam to the door.

Adam was smiling as he left. That was more than Dean could have hoped for in the last few years.

“Adam came by,” Dean told Gadreel when he asked how his day went.

“Oh?” Gadreel made, seeming genuinely surprised - and a little wary.

Where Adam was, Michael was involved. Gadreel always feared that his cousin would use Dean’s little brother to spy on them, or worse.

“He just wanted to say hello.” Dean shrugged, and thought about how much he should tell Gadreel. Then he felt bad for thinking about keeping anything from his mate. “He and Michael are trying for a kid.”

Ree looked at him with big eyes. “Oh- oh!” he said. “That explains a few things.”

Dean frowned a thim. “Like what?”

“Like why Michael came to me today to talk about cribs and buggies, and why he knew so much about the different models.” Ree shook his head. “I thought he was feigning interest to get something from me.”

“Nope. Prepare for more riveting conversations with your boss about baby stuff in the future,” Dean teased him, and Gadreel huffed out a laugh.

“If I had known it was genuine, it would have been far more enjoyable.” Ree seemed to think about it. “Well, maybe not far more, but at least a little bit.”

“It is still Michael we’re talking about,” Dean said. He would probably never understand what Adam saw in the guy - but then again, he seemed to be a little different from the facade of the tough mafia boss that he had to uphold.

Dean understood the need to appear tougher than you were. He’d pretended to be a beta with no care in the world and a give-’em-hell attitude for the longest time.

It was only with Gadreel that he’d finally been able to be himself, with both his barbed and his mushy parts. Ree would never judge him for any of them, or think that he was a failed Omega.

Dean cuddled up to him on the couch, placing his head onto Ree’s shoulder.

“Kiss me, Alpha,” he whined.

Ree gave a fond sigh, and did as told. Dean pushed his tongue into his mate’s mouth, and fondled the scent gland on his neck.

When he pulled out of the kiss, Ree’s eyes were shining golden. “Is my beautiful Omega in the mood?” he asked huskily.

“I always want you,” Dean whispered against Ree’s lips, then nipped at them with his teeth. “Take me.”

Ree nosed at Dean’s scent gland, then licked at it. “As you wish.”

Dean sighed happily. “And then after, I wanna watch Pacific Rim.”

Ree froze, and then let out a long-suffering sigh. “Again?”

“Hey, I’m pregnant, don’t be mean to me,” Dean pouted.

“You know I would never deny you,” Ree said against the side of Dean’s face. “I just sometimes wish you had better taste.”

Dean huffed, and slapped Gadreel’s shoulder.

Ree kissed him again, though he had trouble doing it with the smile on his lips.

Dean wanted to protest against the slander of his taste, but Ree made a convincing argument against talking right now.

Still, Dean’s taste was impeccable - he was in love with Ree, after all.

[daughtersofbelleteyn]

I'll Move the Stars For You

Cute little Joellie fanfic for you all. Full of family fluff, Ellie sassing Joel and Joel being soft!

Summary: Joel sets up a little surprise for Ellie with glow-in-the-dark stars. Pure family fluff with lots of unsaid "I love you" for the both of them.

You can read it here on A03 or below the cut.

Enjoy!

*****************************

Ellie ran towards the porch, ducking her head in an attempt to see something, the droplets of rain lashing hard against her skin and hair. She burst the door open and entered her home with a sigh of relief. 

Drip drip drip. She could hear the drops hitting the hardwood floor as she took deep breaths, trying to calm down after having crossed half of Jackson running as fast as she could.

She took off her boots, wondering where the hell Joes was. His boots and his coat were here, but he she couldn’t see him in the living room or the kitchen.

She strained her ear to catch any sound of him coming from the garage or his room when she heard the floorboards of her bedroom creak. Her whole body went on alert. Someone had entered her home. Someone was in her bedroom and maybe had taken Joel. Shit.

“JOEL?” she called as she slung her coat on the floor and ran towards the stairs.

She heard a soft “shit” and something falling on the ground when she reached the landing. She was about to turn the handle when she heard a stern “Ellie, don’t enter your room!”

What the fuck??

She froze. “Joel, are you okay? What are you doing, man?”

A sigh. “I’m alright kiddo. I’m just fixing something in your room and I had to push some furniture around and there is one behind the door. I didn’t want you to open the door wide and damage it. Tis all.”

“So I can’t enter my room because you randomly decided it needed fixing? You’re weird, old man.”

She heard him come closer and her bedroom door opened. A dishevelled, tired looking Joel put his head out. His eyes widened when he saw her state.

“Damn, you’re soaked, kiddo.”

“Oh yeah? I hadn’t noticed! I could get something warm and dry, but you know, for that I would need to be able to enter my fucking room.” She sassed.

She felt annoyed that he was in her room without her. Not that she didn’t trust him, she knew he wouldn’t go snooping around. But what if in moving furniture around he made her notebook fall open and he saw her drawings? Or worse! What she had written in it. And there was also the possibility that he would find the Christmas present she was trying to make him. She had hidden it well, but you could never know. She hated this!

 He sighed heavily, playing his best “tired of your shit” kind of Joel sigh.

“Wait here,” he said before closing the door.

She huffed but obeyed him.

He came back a few seconds later and handed some warm clothes she used as pjs.

“Go shower and put this on. I’ll join you afterwards and I’ll cook us some dinner to warm you up.”

She took her clothes and tried to peek behind him, wanting to see what the fuck he was doing in her bedroom. He tsked and put the hand that had handed her the clothes over her eyes.

“Ah! No peeking! You’ll see the changes after dinner. Now go shower. And yes, you need to shower, getting soaked by rain does not replace a shower. Now shoo!” and with that he gently pushed her forehead away before closing the door.

“Old bastard,” she grumbled, annoyed that he had forestalled her arguments. They had argued over this more times than she could tell. She strongly believed she didn’t need to shower after getting drenched by rain, it was just a waste of water.

“I heard that!”

She rolled her eyes and walked towards the bathroom. She was gonna take that shower, but because she was cold and couldn’t chill in her bedroom anyway, not because Joel was right.

She quickly showered then walked down in the living room. She sat on the couch and picked the guitar that Joel had left next to the couch after their practice session last night. She strummed the chords for a while, waiting for him to come down.

He finally came down half an hour later. When he saw her practising, he smiled at her. “You sound good, kiddo.”

She blushed under the praise, “thanks.”

He walked past her and into the kitchen. She followed him with her eyes. “What were you fixing in my bedroom?”

He turned her back to her, grabbing a pot. “You’ll see after dinner.”

“Pff. Or, I could just run upstairs and have a look. Tell meeee,” she whined.

“Sure you could. And then you’ll have ruined the surprise I have planned for you and wasted the time I spent on it,” he said coldly. 

The fucker, he was playing with her feelings, knowing damn well she would not do that to him.

“Fine,” she grumbled.

“Play for me while I cook? I promise I’ll show you your room after dinner.”

She rolled her eyes but said nothing. She strummed the first chord of her favourite song, the one he had taught her how to play on her birthday, after the cassette tape had broken, worn down by the too many hours she had listened to it on loop.

He hummed happily and started cooking.

They sat down to eat together, Ellie nearly bouncing on her chair, frustrated in having to wait such a long time to see what Joel had plotted.

“How was your day,” he asked.

“Good!” she said in between two bites, not caring for small talk. Her plate was already half empty when Joel had barely had his first bite. He looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

“You know it’s useless to wolf down your food. I won’t show you your bedroom until after we have both finished eatin’,” he purposely ate the next bite very slowly, looking at her with sparkling eyes.

“You dick!” she groaned, scrapping her empty plate.

He wiggled his eyebrows and kept eating, excruciating slowly if you asked Ellie. She was sure even a 90 year old without teeth would eat faster than him. He was too proud of himself. She wondered who the kid was, sometimes.

She crossed her arms on her chest and looked at him sternly. The crinkles of his eyes remained through the whole meal, but he did speed up a little. Eating at his normal pace, at least.

When he put down his fork she jumped out of her chair and grabbed both of their plates to put it in the sink.

“There, we’re done eating. Can I see my bedroom now?”

He got up, joint creaking and without saying a word he extended his hand to her.

She grabbed it and let him lead her towards her bedroom. Once upstairs he  stood in front of her door, barring her access.

“Why is there light in my room, Joel? So it’s not okay when I forgot to turn off the light, but with you it’s fine?” She was annoyed by his plotting and felt it was her right to mess with him after all. Reminding him how some of his house rules were stupid and annoying was a good start.

He shook his head fondly and exaggeratedly rolled his eyes. “You’ll see, little brat. Now, I’m gonna cover your eyes with my hand and guide you inside. You will open your eyes when I tell you, okay?”

“Yes, sir,” she said with a mock salute.

He placed his right hand over her eyes and turned her towards the door, pressing his chest against her back, letting her know he was here, she was not alone in the dark. He opened the door then nudged her forward with his left hand on her shoulder.

They took a couple of steps in then she heard the flick of the light being turned off. In that moment it hit her that she had not heard him push the furniture around before he came back down or when she was showering. The old bastard had lied.

Excitement and curiosity were coursing through her. Her mind filing through all the possibilities of what awaited her. She did not smell fresh paint. The furniture had not been moved around as far as she had heard and she could still feel the soft plush of her rug near her bed, so that much had not been changed.

He led her to her bed and made her sit down before seating on her left side..

“Ready to open your eyes?”

She nodded softly, too excited to say anything.

Without a warning he pushed her head backwards a little with his hand on her eyes before withdrawing it.

“Open your eyes, kiddo,” he whispered.

Ellie slowly opened her eyes, despite all the curiosity she had felt before, she almost felt… scared? Joel’s voice had gone unusually soft and she didn’t know how to feel about this.

The room was plunged in the dark, only broken by a weird greenish light. The light itself was coming from hundreds of little dots on the ceiling, varying in size. Wait… those are not dots, they are, “stars,” Ellie whispered in wonder.

She flicked her head toward Joel so swiftly her ponytail came whack her in the face.

“Joel!! What, what is this? This is so cooooool!”

He chuckled softly at the wonder in her voice.

“Those are phosphorescent stars, kiddo. It absorbs light during the day and it… it glows in the dark. Don’t ask me how.”

“Phosphorescent,” she repeated the word, as if tasting it on her tongue.

She looked back up to the ceiling and stared at it in silence for a minute, eyes and mouth wide open.

“I’ve never seen it before. How did you find them?”

“I saw a pack of those stars in a kid’s store during a patrol with Tommy, about a year ago. It made me think of you, so,” he cleared his throat, “I took them. There were only like, 30 or so in a pack, so I started looking for more packs throughout the year, so that it could cover a bigger surface, one day.”

It made me think of you. 

“But, it’s not my birthday? Why now?”

“It don’t need to be your birthday for you to have nice things, kiddo. You were so frustrated to not be able to see the stars because of the shitty weather of the last few days, I – I don’t know, I figured now might be the occasion for you to have them in your room, that way they’re always with you.”

Ellie’s eyes started to sting, she had kept them fixed on the ceiling for too long, she thought.

He had brought the stars to her. He had gotten her the thing she loved most, after him, just because he could, just for her.

The sting in her eyes got stronger. A fat tear started rolling on her right cheek. Yeah, maybe it wasn’t just a result of staring at the stars.

She finally detached her eyes from the ceiling and turned toward Joel, crashing against him before he could do anything. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and whispered a wet “thank you.”

He wrapped his arms around her in response and he started to rock her gently. They stayed like that for a couple of minutes before Ellie broke the hug. As much as she liked hugging Joel, she had stars to look at, right now!

She turned herself and moved to settle against his chest when he stopped her with his hand.

“Wait,” he said.

He scooted back towards the headboard, propping her two fluffy pillows before leaning against them. Once settled he opened his arms to her. She didn’t need more motivation to crawl up the bed and settle against him, her back against his chest, his strong arms around her. He planted a kiss on the top of her raised head.

She was mesmerised. She didn’t think she could be happier right now or could be in a cooler place. The stars were sprawling all around the ceiling, even coming down to the top of her walls, giving her the impression of being under the starry sky on a clear night.

She looked around the place when a particular star caught her attention. There were three different sizes of stars and this one was one of the biggest. It was surrounded by several tiny stars but a few centimetres below there was another big star, then another big one on its right. Her brain registered a misshapen rectangle before it hit her.

“No you didn’t,” she exclaimed, tapping her hand against his thigh in her excitement. “You reproduced the big dipper! Joel, man, this is so coooool!”

He chuckled, his laugh vibrating against her back.

“I did. I’m glad you noticed, I was afraid I messed up the proportions. What else can you see?”

“What else?” She turned to try to see his face, thinking he was messing with her. When their eyes met he only raised his eyebrows with a soft smile, waiting for her to look again.

She resumed her observations. Now that she knew it wasn't just little dots of light thrown haphazardly on the ceiling, her mind started picking up the shapes more quickly and accurately.

 She first found Little Dipper, which was not far from Big Dipper. Then, a bit farther in her room, above the window, she found Cassiopeiae. Joel had placed Orion just above her bed. She smiled when she noticed it. She liked the idea of being protected by the Hunter, ever watching over her, even when he couldn’t.

She couldn’t help the squeal leaving her lips when she saw the Giraffe, the two stars representing her legs falling just above her wardrobe.

“You remembered the Giraffe!!”

“Of course I did. How could I forget Camelopardis.”

“Camelopardalis,” she corrected.

“Ah, yes. I can never get it right. Why is it called like that again? A camel and leopard, or something?”

She nodded. “Yep, they thought it was a mix between the two animals, spots like a leopard and a long neck like a camel. I didn’t know you knew about this one.”

“Well, I live with a damn smart kid who’s always telling me about the things she read about space and who taught me how to read the sky. How do you think I managed to recreate all those constellations? I learned from the best.”

She could hear the smile in his voice. His words brought a wave of warmth over her body. She couldn’t help but smile too, elated by his compliments. 

She kept looking around the room when she noticed a group of small and medium sized stars forming an E above her door. She frowned, frustrated to not recognize this constellation.

“What is this one, Joel,” she asked, pointing towards it.

“That’s my favourite constellation over there.”

“Uh? I thought it was Ursa Major ‘cause you liked that it looked like a saucepan?”

“Yeah, well it’s my favourite in the sky, but here, it’s that one. That little E that always shines so bright and gives me a reason to wake up. I thought she deserves her place amongst the stars, like she always dreamed of,” he said, his voice going hoarse.

Ellie froze, overwhelmed by a surge of feelings she couldn’t begin to decipher. She was so glad for the dark, so that Joel couldn’t see the blush spreading over her face. Damn that old man and his ability to say those things to her, when all her love, all she had ever felt for him were lodged in her throat, choking her. She swallowed hard and grabbed his hands in hers, bringing them against her heart.

I love you.

“We should add a J next to it, if you have more stars,” she whispered. Afraid that if she spoke louder he’d hear the catch in her throat. “The E wouldn’t go far without the J, you know.”

“I don’t have any left, but I’ll move the stars for you tomorrow, then,” he said before kissing the top of her head once again. His lips lingered, she felt him inhale deeply before resting his cheek against her head.

They stayed quiet for a bit before she broke the silence. Her voice betraying her nerves despite her best efforts.

“I’m sorry for being a dick with you today. This, this is amazing Joel. I don’t deserve it…”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, even when you’re an annoying little brat,” he said, squeezing her hands. “ You deserve this, and so much more, kiddo.”

She hummed, unconvinced.

He planted another kiss on her head and settled deeper into the pillows, dragging her with him. She put her head on his shoulder, his left arm came to rest on her belly while he rested his cheek against her head, snuggling close. She let herself relax against him, eyes fixed on the shining stars above them.  

“Tell me again the story of Orion,” he said, pointing to the stars above them.

She started explaining how Orion was one the oldest known constellation. How, according to the myths, he was a hunter and said to be the most handsome of men. She told him of the different myths about his deeds and what surrounded him in the sky. The sisters he was pursuing according to one myth, or the scorpion that caused his death, placed opposite of him in the sky.

Joel listened carefully to the stories she had told him a dozen times already. He only hummed from time to time to show he was still listening and pointed to other stars he wanted to know about. 

They stayed like that for hours, until the light of the stars faded and both of them fell asleep, snuggling close. 

[sea-side-scribbles]

Solas wakes up in the strange new world of his own making and it terrifies him. Frail and confused, he has to learn everything from scratch again. The more he learns, the more the world looks like a nightmare.

When he joins the Inquisition, he figures he's still not strong enough to withstand everything this world throws at him.

In the end, he made too many promises and he can't keep them all. But who said the Din'anshiral would be easy?

_____________________________________________

Part 1 | Chapter 1- ? | Right after uthenera, Solas is found by a Dalish clan. This goes well until it doesn't. (Basically my excuse for world building and hilarious misunderstandings.)

Chapter 4

With the gift in his hand, Solas lay in silence for a while, dozing but never reaching the beyond. He noticed that when he stayed still, he could hear quiet noises from outside, muffled conversations and people walking by. It was far from what he usually sensed, but better than nothing. He knew the slaves wouldn't suddenly attack him here. For the first time, he felt a sense of safety. As long as he wasn't strong enough for whatever they needed, he would stay here and the fact somewhat comforted him. They didn't force him to get out. But they didn't mind when he peeked outside, either.

Solas opened his eyes, spontaneously making a decision. He wanted to take a look again and be careful this time. Avoid any blinding lights. Slowly, he moved his limbs. They felt immensely heavy and he had to suck in a breath for lifting one arm alone. Like this, he crawled out of his bed and towards the exit. He noticed only now that the sunlight came in from there and it felt warm on his skin.

Panting, he leaned against the carpet wall to gaze upon his surroundings once more. So far, there were no surprises. He saw the campfire in the distance where a group of people gathered. Some walked by, carrying things he couldn't make out. He only realized that his cave sat at the edge of the glade. All the other vehicles stood further away from him. Also, that was when he realized that what he called “cave” must've been another one of those vehicles. What else would it be?

He was about to finish the thought when the smell of vallaslin suddenly took over his senses. By instinct, he crawled away from it, back into the cave, but he didn't get far until a man appeared in front of him. “Oh, good day, arani, I thought I heard something”, came the friendly words, then he furrowed his brows. “Are you okay?” Solas noticed that he was acting suspiciously. “Er, yes, I...”, he stuttered. “I just wanted to take in the view...” He recalled that he had the best chances in acting oblivious and confused, as he actually was.

The man looked surprised. “You wanna go out and take a walk?” “I would like to, but...” He slowly lifted a hand to test and looked at his palm. He could barely feel it. His whole body was numb and as much as he wished to, he was afraid he'd only make a fool out of himself trying to walk. “Oh, right...You know what will fix you up? Just wait a second...” Solas watched the man vanish again, wondering if he'd rather hide. Then the moment was over and he suddenly held a mug of white liquid in his hands.

“Halla milk and honey with a pinch of cinnamon”, the man described with a smirk. “There's nothing better in the morning, trust me.” Solas was already overwhelmed by the heat that spread in his fingers and up his arms and the sweet scent that overlapped the vallaslin's. He didn't doubt for a second that this would make him stronger. For a while, he only dived into the taste and let the heat warm him from inside. “It's good”, he finally said. The man smiled. “I thought so. Ivun will be glad to hear it, too. She was adamant about saving some for you, in case you wake up.” “Who's Ivun?” “One of our cooks and a very resolute one.” Solas furrowed his brows, pondering again.

These slaves didn't seem to have any other plan with him than to feed him. He wondered if he could get any useful information out of this man. So far, he noticed that he wore different clothes than the others and he had a staff on his back. A sign of leadership? The tip of the staff made a spot behind Solas' left ear tickle. Did it possibly control the area? Create this prison? The vallaslin told him the man was younger than Halven, but a leader wasn't chosen by age, yet by devotion. Focusing on the staff made him dizzy, so he drew his attention away from it. After all, he didn't have to risk another breakdown.

“You are very kind”, Solas began and carefully eyed the man. An amulet hung around his neck with a strange symbol on it. Perhaps a rune. With all this, he figured he should be very cautious around him. “Who are you?” “Oh”, the man looked as if he only noticed something now. “My name is Temalas. I'm here to guard your aravel. I look out for spirits and stray magic...” He slowed down, unsure what the elf would know about such things. Solas, however, had already stumbled over a different word. “Aravel?” It had occurred to him before, that the slaves used Elvhen terms for certain things, including their names. Why, he didn't know. It could be a test but he doubted it now. He regretted his outburst, but Temalas looked rather glad to help.

“It's the Elvhen word for landship. We travel in these across the world, like our ancestors did.” Solas blinked, dumbfounded. He looked up to the sky, but to his utter shock, it was just as empty as the rest of this prison. Temalas didn't notice his horror. ”They are all over the camp. Look.” Proudly, he gestured towards the glade, where more of these sorry excuses sat between the trees. What Solas had called “vehicles” - and that was still all they were. He saw people climb in and out of them, as if they lived in them. It was like a cruel joke, comparing this to the majestic travelling ships he knew. Did these slaves even know what a real aravel was? What did he mean by “ancestors”? Other slaves?

Anger spread in him. The wish to lock their “gods” into these wagons and keep them in there forever. He suddenly chuckled by the thought that he hadn't been creative enough punishing the evanuris. “What's so funny?” Temalas looked downright offended. Startled by his tone, Solas sobered up quickly. “Nothing, I am sorry...” Indeed, he scolded himself for laughing at their suffering. His weak body had no manners. However, this place was a mocking of everything the Elvhen people fought for. He had to end this. Determined, he closed his eyes – but nothing happened. Instead, he had to gasp for air again. The emptiness around him almost swallowed him whole. He had to stop trying...

A moment later, he saw Temalas looking down at him. “Hello? Arani? Can you hear me?” “I...hear you...”, Solas muttered, blinking. “What happened?” “You passed out. Did you see that light again?” Solas pressed his eyes shut, pondering. “No”, he eventually answered. “Perhaps...sitting up wasn't such a good idea...” “Really? Creators, be careful with yourself! You scared me!” Solas grimaced. The word “creators”, said with such faith, was downright disgusting. They shouldn't pray to them. They shouldn't be branded. It was all wrong.

He needed to know the truth. Recalling that the Healer hadn't been suspicious yet, he decided to use his pretended amnesia to his advantage again to ask an otherwise strange question. “Your creators...”, he said, hiding his disgust behind an expression of curiosity, “Halven mentioned them, too. Who are they?” Also, Temalas didn't appear to mind. His face lit up. “He told me you might want to know more about them. It's a rather long story, I don't know if it's the right time now...” “I feel fine!”, Solas answered more harshly than intended. Quickly, he softened again. “I mean...I'm sorry. I am alright. Please, tell me more.” Temalas wondered why the elf was so eager about it. But on the other hand, hearing for the first time in his life that he had his own people and culture must be fascinating. And it made this easer.

“Alright, just let me get you more milk so you'll make it through it all...” He took the mug, honestly worried about straining the elf too much. After all, he had a history of passing out in conversations. Shortly after, Solas had another serving of hot, sweet milk to his disposal and he didn't mind. Temalas sat next to him, legs crossed and solemnly began to tell his story. To Solas' growing horror, it was the old tale of lies he had already heard in so many different ways.

The sun touched the earth and thus created Elgar'nan – not even the People, no, exclusively stinky, old Elgar'nan, the great All-Father of the People he despised. Solas drowned a bitter laugh in milk and continued to listen politely. When finally Mythal emerged from the ocean, he found it amusing that even Temalas let it look like the only good thing that had happened to the world so far, after an eternity of darkness and despair. What a tale! What glory lay in Elgar'nan!

Solas remembered that in the very first days of the new age, Mythal had used to tease Elgar'nan about this. And he had even laughed. They all had laughed more back then.

He dipped his head. No matter how much he called upon the comforting heat of his drink, he couldn't help the tears welling in his eyes. Soon, they rolled down his cheeks. Temalas stopped. Embarrassed, Solas put the mug down to wiped his face, but the damage was done. “Are you okay?”, Temalas' voice was husk. “Did I say something wrong?” Solas could only stutter: “I...I'm...fine...Just continue...What happened to the sun?”

Temalas was shocked now. He thought that this story alone stirred the elf. He wept because the land suffered from the sun's jealousy and Elgar'nan's revenge. He felt for this story like a child would and it moved Temalas deeply. Their new lethal'lin was really innocent and he must've suffered so much.

He went on with the story and Solas slowly recovered. He only had so much tears left for long forgotten days. Sadly, no Mythal would ever emerge from his tears. They were useless.

As the tale went on, Solas noticed that Temalas left a lot of the old details out and focused on other things. Frustrated, he pressed his eyes shut. When would this stop? The evanuris had crafted those tales since the beginning, always altering them for their current needs. Now, they had cut another huge part off from history and surely, those who remembered would not be spared.

Temalas then continued with Falon'Din and Dirthamen and some curious story about a deer and ravens. It appeared that spirits were cut out of the tale as well. Solas had to keep himself from shaking his head when Temalas mentioned the great love the “brothers” were supposed to feel for each other.

Then came Andruil and Ghilan'nain and Solas almost smirked, wondering what Sylaise and June would say about the newcomers and toys being mentioned before them. He had to suffer through all the praise for Andruil's hunting skills and Ghilan'nains eagerness in ratting out misbehaving underlings before the story went to good old Sylaise and June and he had to sigh deeply at their so-called wisdom and cleverness.

Temalas however, was moved by the elf's reactions, thinking he never had such an excited listener before. And he competed with the da'lens at holidays. He was sorry when he had to tell him about the Dread Wolf.

Solas felt a cold shiver run down his spine when he heard the name. He stared at Temalas, who moved on to this point without pause. Tensely, he listened to the new tale of his greatest sins. They still called him a liar, a trickster. He almost cried again. This wasn't how this story should go.

His heart sank even more when he heard about “the forgotten ones.” Temalas hardly knew anything about them except that they brought malevolence to the world. That was all that remained of their legacy. And if Temalas knew more, he certainly wouldn't admit it.

Solas furrowed his brows when he heard that Fen'Harel locked both the forgotten ones and the creators in their separate realms, and thus they couldn't reach the world any longer. Temalas said the gods would return one day, but he didn't sound certain about it. But was he? And who branded them then?

“That was a lot to take in, right?”, Temalas joyfully ended, glad that his listener made it through all of it. “I have questions”, Solas promptly said. “When your creators are gone, who are your leaders now?” “Well, we still follow the old traditions, collect the wisdom of our ancestors and keep them safe for the following generations until the creators return.” Solas wondered how this was an answer to his question. “So they still guide you?” “We believe we are still connected to our creators though the vallaslin. Keeper Avishalan sometimes hears Sylaise whisper to her. Although we can never be certain what is our gods' will and what is the Dread Wolf's work. We must always be careful to not be deceived.”

Solas eyed him carefully. He really didn't seem to know who he was. “But who commands you? Your Keeper?” Temalas gave him a mysterious smile. “We don't have leaders like masters. Keeper Avishalan is more like an advisor. Most of our decisions are made by mutual consent. Nobody commands us.” Solas stared at the staff. “A...and you are...?” “I'm the Keepers first apprentice, next to Leaman who is the second apprentice. Believe it or not, I'll be a Keeper one day.” “And...what does a Keeper do?” “They keep our traditions, collect and share old wisdom, safe the clan from demons and protect it from the Dread Wolf”, Temalas listed happily. Solas felt even more uncomfortable now. He had been right to be cautious around this man. But still, he couldn't see the full picture.

“So...you and your people...You live here and provide for yourself?” And when Temalas nodded, he went on: “Who's branding your faces then?” “This is another of the Keeper's duties. Every elf who reaches adulthood is allowed to wear their own vallaslin. Each symbol honours a certain god. Mine is dedicated to Dirthamen.” “The god of knowledge and secrets”, Solas blurted out. “How fitting!” Temalas missed his sarcastic tone. “I see you're learning fast. I wonder what your choice would be?” Solas' expression froze. There it was. The catch. They would brand him, make him a slave. Make him obey the ominous whispers from the beyond.

“I didn't mean to scare you like that....”, Temalas backtracked at Solas' look. “Do...our gods scare you?” Solas backtracked as well. “It's just a lot to take in...As you said...” When the tension faded, his eyes grew heavy. Temalas noticed that the elf reached the end of his tether. “Right...If you like to rest now, it's fine...”

Solas pondered some more, with his eyes closed. Before Temalas could leave him alone, he asked: “Do you have more of that milk?” The First's wide smile confirmed.

Notes:

Ivun: “filled with life” lethal'lin: “blood kin”, “clan mate” Leaman: “glittering water”

[aldrichpalermo]

Can’t Help Falling In Love | Raldi

Featuring: Riley Moore & Aldrich Palermo; brief appearance by Dahlia Geller Time Frame: Early/late evening Location: Raldi’s apartment; San Francisco, CA Notes: Enjoy the cuuuute!

Aldrich

Aldrich had taken a half day at work and after running a few essential errands, came home to set up the apartment exactly how he'd hoped for the surprise he'd been planning for his boyfriend. Ever since his anxiety attack, Aldrich had really taken a step back and thought deeply about his life and his and Riley's relationship. And while he knew the surprise wasn't entirely an impulsive decision spurred on by that day, Aldrich felt as though it was something of a push for him to evaluate deeper and make his final decision.

 Inside their apartment, Aldrich had two dozen balloons squeezed inside his SUV that were now artfully anchored all around the entryway and living room. He had also ordered several dozen roses; red and white rose petals covered the floor, from the front door to the living room, and down the hallway to their bedroom. Aldrich also arranged vases of roses on nearly every surface of the living room, their bedroom and bathroom in their apartment. Finally, he'd lit some candles, keeping them out of reach of Carina; one was scented and kept in the living room but the rest were cream-colored candles, burning low along with the dim lights overhead.

Aldrich had shaved, showered, re-dressed and tied a note to a freshly-groomed Carina, knowing that she would greet Riley at the front door as soon as he arrived home. The note simply read, "Ciao, Daddy! Please meet Papa in the bedroom." with a heart drawn at the end.

Riley

Riley had a long day at work, getting everything perfect for the launch. Yes, now that most games were played digitally, they could make upgrades to fix glitches, but Riley was a perfectionist. He didn’t want glitches on any part he worked on. As he was packing up, he did text Aldrich to let him know that he was leaving and that he was glad it wasn’t his night to handle dinner.

Riley was responding to a few messages as he walked to the apartment he shared with his boyfriend, so it took him a moment to register how done up the place was once he put his phone in his pocket. “Oh my god…” he whispered and looked around. In the I’m candlelight, he could see balloons and roses. The sight made his heart start to race. “Hello, darling,” Riley grinned and picked up Carina. “I wasn’t ignoring you, I promise.” He read the note that was tied to the dog. “Shall we go see what Papa is up to?” Riley didn’t want to get his hopes up, but he had an idea of what was happening.

“Amore? I’m home,” he said, trying not to let his voice sound as shaky as he felt. As he walked to the bedroom, he saw just how many roses and candles there actually were. It made the whole apartment smell incredible. He set the dog down at the bedroom door and bit his lip as he walked in. “Hi, love,” he smiled at his gorgeous boyfriend.

Aldrich

Aldrich was sure that he had gone over the top with the roses, balloons and candles. But he didn't care; Riley deserved every single romantic gesture that he could pull off. Dinner and dessert had been ordered and would be there soon enough for them as well. And when he heard his boyfriend’s arrival from the front door, Aldrich had his favorite cover of "Can't Help Falling In Love" queued and hit 'play' on his cellphone. He stood in the middle of their bedroom, near the foot of the bed with his fingers linked together, and he smiled back when Riley entered the room. The nervousness was bubbling but mostly, he was just happy to see him, as always.

"Ciao bello," he replied, stepping forward until he could greet Riley with a peck on his lips. "I see you got Carina's note," he joked, lips stretching into a soft grin.

Riley

Riley kissed Aldrich back and let out a soft chuckled. “I did. The rose petals helped, too,” he smiled. Riley heard the beautiful cover of ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love’ and he felt the nervous butterflies fluttering in his stomach. Riley could only imagine how Aldrich felt as he set this all up. “This is all so, so beautiful, my love,” he said and kissed his boyfriend again, letting his lips linger longer.

Aldrich

"Bene," Aldrich chuckled back, expelling a bit of his nervousness through his response. He cupped hand to Riley's cheek when they kissed again and then, with some reluctance, drew back and took a small step back. "I'm glad that you feel that way. You deserve to come home to special, unexpexted things from time to time. And I know I'm not exactly being subtle with all of this but the truth was I didn't want to be." Aldrich let out another soft, nervous chuckle and then lowered his hand to hold one of Riley's. "I know that you and I have talked before and had been fine being what we are to each other. I'm always going to want forever with you, amore. But the more I've thought about it, the more I've realized that if I can be more to you? If I can show my love to you more and have it ever mean more to you or I? Then there isn't another day I want to go by where I miss the chance to be more to you and for you. Ti amo, Riley Francis Moore. I always will."

With his free hand, Aldrich reached into his back pocket and carefully opened the velvet box he now held, all while lowering himself to one knee. "Will you allow me to love you as your husband someday?"

Riley

Riley bit down on his lip as Aldrich stepped back a little and explained that he didn’t want to be subtle with his display. That got a soft laugh out of him and he shook his head a little as he took Aldrich’s hand. Riley’s eyes teared up at the speech. He wanted forever with Aldrich no matter what that looked like. But he’d be lying if he said he never wanted to marry the other man. Of course he did. And it seemed that Aldrich did, too. He just didn’t know the question would come now. Riley’s heart was so full of love that it was about to burst. “Ti amo,” he grinned back.

Riley let Aldrich’s hand go just so he could have both free. He nodded enthusiastically at the question. “Yes, god yes,” he smiled and leaned down to kiss Aldrich. “I love you. I love you so much,” he muttered and offered his fiancé his left hand.

Aldrich

Seeing Riley tear up as he spoke very nearly got to him. For a millisecond, Aldrich almost stopped what he was doing just so he could gently guide a thumb under Riley's eyes or offer him a tissue from the bedside table. But he resisted the urge and finished the proposal, especially after Riley told him he loved him back.

Hearing the 'yes' answer twice brightened Aldrich's entire face while warmth bloomed inside his chest. He was grinning but managed to reign it in enough to meet his fiancé's lips. "I love you right back," Aldrich replied and then tugged the ring from the box to place on Riley's finger. Before doing so, he bent his head and placed a kiss right across his fiancé's knuckles, and then slid the silver token in place. Aldrich stood and wrapped his arms around Riley in a tight but affectionate hug while whispering, "Thank you for loving me." and "You're everything to me," in English and Italian into the crook of Riley's neck.

Riley

Riley smiled widely and kissed Aldrich back. He was certain that their teeth almost clocked together because they were both grinning. “I know you do,” he grinned and looked down at the ring that Aldrich put on his finger. Riley only had a few moments to see it before he was wrapped up with Aldrich again. “I will always love you,” he muttered and turned his head to kiss his fiancé again. “This was-Aldrich, this is everything. Everything I never thought I would have. The romance. The gorgeous man to have by my side forever. You don’t know what this means to me. Yes, you gave yourself away with all of the flowers, candles, and balloons. But I love every part of this. I love the effort you put in to make me feel special. You always do. I just… god, I adore you and love you.”

Aldrich

Aldrich pressed a few tender kisses to Riley's neck before pulling back to look in his eyes and listen to him. "I never want you to feel like these are things that you'll never have ever again." He lifted a hand to caress the back of his fingers along Riley's jaw. "I'm certainly not going anywhere and you're in for a life of romancing, of every kind I can give you." He cuffed his hand to the column of his fiancé's neck and brushed his nose to Riley's before meeting his lips again, giving him a long, deep, passionate kiss. Aldrich's love for Riley truly knew no bounds. He loved him, deeply and wholly and was looking forward to spending the rest of their lives together, showing and telling Riley.

Riley

Riley looked into Aldrich’s eyes and grinned softly. He knew how sincere he was. He knew that they were always going to be together. “I can’t wait for that,” he whispered and wrapped his arms around his fiancé’s waist as he kissed him back, never wanting to let him go. Riley would never get tired of the way Aldrich’s lips felt against his own, nor how passionate he was. He just felt pure love when they were together. No other man he was with even came close.

Aldrich

Aldrich continued leading the kiss for a while longer but eventually pulled away with a few parting, gentle kisses. If they kept going much longer,   they would probably not hear the door when their dinner and dessert were delivered. It wasn’t the worst problem in Aldrich's eyes but he could exercise restraint, being mindful that his fiancé had just come home from a full day of work. He kissed the corner of Riley's lips and then asked, "Do you remember the restaurant we were going to go to when I'd had my panic attack?" He hadn’t intended to dwell on the unpleasant memory for the two of them and soon went on to say, "Well, tonight, I thought I would bring a little of the restaurant to us." And no sooner had he said that were there several quick knocks on their front door.

Riley

Riley could have kissed Aldrich forever, but he was grateful his fiancé didn’t just stop out of nowhere. He returned every little kiss until Aldrich fully pulled back. “Hm, of course I do,” Riley nodded. It was an unhappy memory, but he was beyond glad that he was there to support Aldrich. “Really? Delicious!” He smiled. “Right on cue! I’m actually very hungry. Who knew getting engaged made one famished,” he teased.

Aldrich

Although he knew Riley would tell him he didn't have to, Aldrich really wanted to make up for that evening. He'd made some calls prior to and earlier today in order to arrange the dinner and dessert being made for take-out--something he knew the restaurant didn't ordinarily do. At Riley's response about the food, Aldrich laughed and squeezed him a little at his forearms, "They never do show that in the romance films, do they? Post-proposal hunger." He kissed his fiancé's cheek and then led the way out of the bedroom to answer the door. Well, technically Carina led the way, scampering ahead with a handful of barks that would terrify no one. But Aldrich already knew who was on the other side of it and opened the door to reveal his sister/cousin, Dahlia, who was stylishly dressed as always and carried two plastic bags full of fragrant food. Aldrich greeted and thanked her while relieving her of the bags.

Immediately after her hands were free, Dahlia crouched to scoop up a now all-too friendly Carina in one arm and step inside the apartment to hug Riley. "Judging by both of your radiant dispositions, I can only guess you said 'yes'?" She grinned, bright eyes flickering from Riley's face to his left hand.

Riley

Riley chuckled a little and shook his head. "No, they don't. They usually just cut straight from the proposal to the kiss at the perfect wedding," he grinned. "But I don't want to rush. I want to enjoy being engaged and showing off the ring." Riley finally got a proper look at it as they walked into the main part of the apartment. "This really is an incredible ring, my love." He made sure Carina didn't run out of the apartment when Aldrich opened the door, revealing Dahlia. His future sister-in-law. "Hello, darling!" he smiled widely and hugged her back. "Of course! How could I say no to your brother?" he asked and lifted up his left hand to show off the ring. "It's so good to see you." Riley kissed both of her cheeks. and thanked her for being their personal delivery woman. "I love that you were in on this," he chuckled.

Aldrich

"At least we're prepared for this moment," Aldrich replied with a broad smile that lingered as Riley said he wanted to enjoy being engaged. Showing off the ring made Aldrich laugh a bit. "I'm glad you like it that much, amore."

After they reached the door and Dahila entered, Aldrich had taken the food to the kitchen so he could arrange it on plates and open a bottle of champagne; while he had largely adopted a sober lifestyle, tonight was  a night of celebration with his love. As he took care of this, Dahila happily kissed Riley's cheek and said, "You know? I don't know but I am glad you didn't, for multiple reasons--one being that I would dearly miss my new favourite brunch friend." She winked at Riley and then grinned while rubbing a hand over Carina's floppy ears. "The pleasure was entirely mine. And as much as I want to stay and gush about your brand new engagement, I know that you have dinner waiting and I'm sure you would love to celebrate some more with your fiancé." She blew some air kisses at Carina before crouching to place the dog back to the ground and then leaned in to give Riley another hug, "I am so, so very happy for you and Aldi! Call me if you need anything, especially if he ever starts spiraling into a groomzilla, okay?"

"I heard that, Dahila!" Aldrich called from the kitchen.

"You were meant to, Aldi!" she replied and then winked to Riley and turned to go. "Love you both!"

Riley

“Are you kidding? This ring is absolutely amazing!” Riley knew he would be gushing about it to everyone.

Riley knew it was absolutely a night to celebrate because Aldrich was popping a bottle of bubbly. He very rarely drank. Riley was pretty sure he could count on one hand the number of drinks he had seen Aldrich consume since they started dating. “I would miss going to brunch with you, too! We always have the best time,” Riley smiled. “We will gush another time!” He promised. “I will text you for brunch plans, and if he becomes an overwhelmed groomzilla,” Riley chuckled and gave Dahlia another hug. “Love you!” He smiled and shut the door after she left.

Riley wrapped his arms around Aldrich when he went into the kitchen. “I don’t think I have ever been this happy in my whole life.”

Aldrich

Aldrich grinned a bit to himself, listening to his sister and his fiancé as he arranged the food onto plates. He loved that Dahlia had been so fond of Riley and was making more plans with him, especially with all of them becoming family now. Something told Aldrich that Bianca would be following suit soon once she knew about the proposal; however, Aldrich had only told Dahlia and his parents in advance of his plans to propose. He loved Bianca dearly but knew that out of his siblings, she had the biggest mouth--intentional or not.

After Dahlia had gone and Riley joined him in the kitchen. Aldrich found himself smiling again at the feeling of Riley's arms around him. He turned in his love's arms and brought his own arms up around Riley's neck. "That makes two of us. And you know I always adore you but this much happiness looks very good on you, amore." He winked and then leaned in to peck Riley's lips a few times before leaving a lingering kiss on his lips. "Dinner is ready to eat, but first," he'd shared once he drawn back from the last kiss. Aldrich picked up the two flutes of champagne and handed one to Riley. "A toast to us." He lifted his glass, adding, "To love and to happiness." Before taking a sip, he leaned in an gave Riley a tender peck on the lips. "Salute, bello."

Riley

Riley looked at Aldrich and smiled at his fiancé. “It looks pretty incredible on you, too, my love,” he said and kissed Aldrich back. His heart had finally settled back down after the initial surprise, but the butterflies didn’t go away when Aldrich kissed him. No matter how many times he had said that it didn’t matter whether they were engaged or not, it still felt incredible and special to know just how much his fiancé loved him. “Forever, love,” he smiled and took a sip. “Salute.” He kissed Aldrich once more and helped him bring everything to the table. “How long did this take you to put together? The flat, of course. But also, how long have you been planning to propose!? You gave me no signs.”

Aldrich

Aldrich's lips were curved a bit against Riley's pair. His heart was so full inside his chest. By far and away, his best, most loved and authentically happy moments had been with Riley. But Riley agreeing to marry him had shot right to the top of his mental list. He sipped the bubbly champagne and gladly returned Riley's kiss, tasting a little of the liquid on his fiancé's lips, and then he carried part of their meal and utensils to the table so that they could eat. "Oh, it's been on my mind for a while now. I had been considering a few different ideas on how I was going to propose. It helped that most of my planning was taking place at my work office and not here though." He grinned a bit, taking a seat at the table. "Eventually though, I decided to scale back from other ideas and keep the proposal focused on just us and our home. But I think that when I was taking it easy from work, I was a little worried that having a little more free time was going to cause me to give something away. I'm glad that wasn't the case."

Riley

“I truly had no idea you were even thinking about it, love,” Riley said and chuckled a little, imagining how extravagant the proposal could have been. More than it already was. “I’m glad you did it at home. It made the moment so much more intimate and special. You’re so good to me and know me so well,” he grinned and took another sip of champagne. “I’m going to have to get you an engagement ring, too. I don’t want you to feel left out.”

Aldrich

Aldrich, now holding his fork, lightly poked at some salmon in front of him. "That was... me taking a very huge leap of faith." He began lightly blushing as he explained, "As I said when I proposed to you, bello, I know that I hadn't said anything about wanting marriage before. In fact, I had told you before that we didn't need to get married because we we've been happy as we are. But when I realized that I being married--being your husband would mean being more than what we are, and opening a door to the possibility of more happiness for us. Well... how could I deny us that? How could I deny you that?" He smiled a little crookedly and reached for Riley's hand, rubbing a thumb along his fiancé's knuckles. "I won't feel left out if you don't get me an engagement ring, but if you do, well, you know I will happily and proudly wear it. I do love a good reminder of you."

Riley

Riley shook his head a little and grinned. “As if I could ever say no to you. I always agreed that we didn’t need to get married to be together forever, but I absolutely do not want you to take this ring and the engagement back. Having this… I didn’t realise how much it would mean to me. Maybe that’s just years of internalised homophobia and the disbelief that I could ever have what other couples had.” Riley was extra comforted by Aldrich’s thumb on his knuckles. “Good, I want you to feel like this. I want you to have a physical reminder of my love for you.”

Aldrich

It was heartbreaking that Riley had thought he wouldn't be able to have what other couples had. The internalized homophobia had, unfortunately made sense, having met his parents last Christmas and that made Aldrich's heart ache too. But out loud, he told Riley, "As long as  I'm yours, you're getting that lifetime of romancing. Unapologetic, love filled romance." That and more would be a part of his unofficial vows. He smiled a little bit more, "You're the best person to come into my life, bello. So I'll gladly wear a ring you choose for me." He lifted Riley's hand ay the same time that he bent hus head so that he could kiss his fiancé's knuckles and then said, "Now, I'll take a small break from showering you with all my love and affection so that we can eat!" He laughed a bit, throwing one more kiss on Riley's hand despite his own words and then freed both their hands.

Riley

“I think a lifetime of that sounds absolutely incredible, love,” Riley grinned. He was going to give all that love right back. Aldrich deserved nothing less from him. “Hm, good idea. We should eat while it is still warm.” He smiled at the extra kiss on his hand, then dug into his food. Riley was definitely hungry, and the food tasted just as good at home as it did at the restaurant. “This is delicious. Thank you for convincing the restaurant to do this for us.”

Aldrich

Aldrich's cheeks were beginning to hurt with how much he'd been smiling, ever since Riley had said, 'yes' to his proposal. He was so deeply in love with the man before him and kept thinking about that fact as the two of them ate dinner. Giving another smile as he removed fork prongs from between his lips, he heard Riley's gratitude and replied after swallowing what was in his mouth. "You're welcome. There's dessert for us as well - a rather refreshing-looking fruit tart for us to share. I placed it in the fridge but we can have it now if you're done."

He'd shared dozens of meals with Riley--most, in fact, since before they'd returned from the island. Yet tonight as they were finishing dinner, he couldn't keep his eyes off him, his future husband. And it was likely the euphoria over everything that evening that had him keeping his gaze so fixed on Riley. From the preparation, anticipating Riley's arrival home, the actual proposal itself, Riley saying 'yes', the delightful kisses that followed and only ended because Dahlia arrived with dinner...

 Aldrich reached up to slowly but expertly undo his neck tie and shirt's top button with one hand. He'd set his fork down on the plate and leaned back in his chair, dark eyes still on his fiancé. "Although... I also wouldn't mind us waiting a little bit before we get to that tart." He curled an index finger in a come-hither gesture, wanting to pick up where they'd left off in their making out earlier and then-some if Riley was also in the mood.

Dessert could definitely wait.

[diminuel]

As the person who did send the original “Sam was actually a female archangel” I think after a while they would be cool with either female or male pronouns and be bigender and I could see Michael and Sam as part of their subconscious maybe arguing on what to do next or who gains control of them. I’d like to hear your ideas on Sam’s relationship with Heaven and Hell right now as well as Bobby and Cas since I’m not really good at writing relationship scenarios so I’d love to see what else you got

This is all very much just me offering stabs in the dark based on the snippets of what I have heard so far, combined with my interpretation of canon events and relationship dynamics and character arcs circa S4/5.

Bobby, I'd say, is a more accepting and nuanced version of Dean, when it gets to Sam being other/ different/ dangerous. Which makes sense since he's got a more distanced and "healthy" (if you can say this about anyone in this show) parental/ mentor relationship with Sam. And, as I said before, he's more pragmatic. He can let Sam make decisions for himself (especially if he sees them serving a greater good). However, Bobby's not cuddly and he has a limited amount of patience for self-pity (see how he reacts to Cas lamenting his loss of powers or how he "boo-hoo princess"es Dean). He might take a "shut up with the belly-aching. You're still Sam, now let's figure out how to fix this whole end of the world nonsense." I think that Sam would, to some degree, appreciate a semblance of normalcy that Bobby would provide. And Bobby did not reject Sam when Sam released Lucifer, so Sam might be glad to have some sort of "you might be messed up but you're still my family" vibes coming from Bobby. (Though he might not like being locked up in the panic room if it came to that *lol*)

As to Cas... I don't know. From canon we do have some hints that Cas at least thinks that Michael has always had a whole oak tree shoved up his ass and that he is relatively irreverent of archangels. Though he will try to get them to help the cause he's sacrificed everything for. (And always gets disappointed...) However, if Michael's been influenced (*insert obligatory JIB con hehehe here*) by Sam enough he might be hopeful to some degree. It really also depends on how Michael came to be human in the first place... By choice can lead to an Anna like situation but by force means that Michael is in theory antagonistic to TFW's cause. So the aim would be to not let Michael get away to fight the apocalyptic boxing match against Lucifer.

[kennyfischerconsulting]

YOU WANTED WAR STORIES?

I got several emails recently asking for “War Stories” about business.  Here is the one from my first scrap metal job.

BENNY the FIX.     Ben Fixman Diversified Metals Corporation -   Part 0ne

I came back from 6 months of hitch hiking around Europe and Israel in April 1964. I was 22, broke, living at home and driving a $300 Chevy that my dad had brought from Laclede Gas Company. I needed a job, so I went to an interview with Benny Fixman, my dad’s ex- partner at Fischer Fixman Metals.  Dad, 15 years older than Benny, was the only one in St. Louis willing to take Benny as a partner, due to his rather rough, brash, and aggressive attitude. 

So, they formed Fischer-Fixman Metal Company in 1954. Irv said Benny was at the office an hour before him, left 2 hours after him and sucked 15 years of Irv’s knowledge and experience in scrap metals out of his brain in a little over a year.  So, they parted friends in the late 50’s and when I went to see Ben in 1964 the company was then called Diversified Metals Corporation. Unlike most junk dealers, Diversified dealt only in industrial non-ferrous metals. There was no over-the-scale retail trade. DMC occupied a maze of stuck together buildings, including 2 zinc and lead melting pots, on Duncan Ave. in mid-town St. Louis.

 What really separated DMC from the other dealers was that they had two insulated wire chopping lines. The normal way to remove the insulation from copper wire was to burn it out in the country or a furnace of some sorts, but Benny was a very bright visionary and saw that soon the toxics and pollution from burning would not be long tolerated in the US.  I remember that when DMC went on a campaign to get the major wire manufacturers to ship us their scrap and over runs, Ben took out the full-page back cover of the Wall Street Journal showing a big polluting smokestack and a caption about the pollution from their metal going up in smoke.

To make a long story short, Ben hired me at $100 a week as an assistant foreman to Kenny Cherry, his scale man. I supervised the laborers as they unloaded the industrial scrap metal and wire from 40 foot over the road trailers. Ben made sure that I did the physical work with the laborers.  He wanted me to know what it was like, so no one could BS me as a foreman and I would appreciate what is what like to freeze or sweat your butt of in the plant.  Unknown to me, he also had big plans for me and wanted to make sure I got a full education.  He had me rotated to the foundry, loading, and unloading rail cars, and eventually running one of the 2- 12-hour shifts on the chopping lines.  After about a year he moved me into the office where I became a settlement clerk.  I would take the receiving documents, which I used to fill out in the plant, and create a settlement for the accounting department so they could pay the industrial account. BTW:  Benny Fixman wrote his autobiography From the Ghetto to the Gold a few years ago if you want more details on him.  I read most of it and found it fairly accurate (as I knew it) and have to say that I am sure all autobiographies (like mine also) are usually slanted in a benevolent manner, with occasional amnesia, in favor of the writer.

Whatever anyone says about Benny, who died at age 90 on November 7, 2015, he was the smartest and most forward-thinking scrap man of that era. DMC would go on to become a NYSE, Fortune 1,000 Company, and the largest recycler/trader of non-ferrous metals in the world.  We had 1,441 employees, trading offices in St, Louis, MO., New York, Beverly Hills, CA. Tokyo Japan, Seoul Korea, and Hamburg Germany, plus large recycling plants in Montreal, Canada, Cucamonga, CA. St. Louis, MO., and Tamaqua, PA.

[alicewonderao3]

Are we ever going to talk?

Pairings: Dean Winchesterxoriginal female character, Sam Winchesterxoriginal female character.

Summary: After her kiss with both Winchesters, Charlotte has no idea how they feel about her. WIth no one to talk to, she confides in an unlikely source and resolves to speak to them, once and for all.

Authors note: This is for @the-slumberparty's third challenge, I think. I revisited my one-shot, "What now?" and this is the continuation I came up with. I have no beta, so all mistakes are mine but let me know what you think.

It had been a month since both Sam and Dean had kissed me. One month since they'd helped me with my writing. Kissing them had forced me to confront my feelings for each of them, and I wasn't ready for that yet. I felt differently about each of them. Sam was warm and sweet, always anticipating my feelings and keeping my feelings and opinions in mind. He loved to watch movies with me and was as much of a bibliophile as I was.

Dean was different. He wasn't afraid to give me the truth, straight. He knew when I needed to hear it and knew when I wasn't ready to hear it yet. But for all his tough outer shell, he was surprisingly soft too. I couldn't help but smile as I remembered the time he helped me after my mom had died. I had expected the tenderness from Sam, and when things got to be too much, like when he tried to get me to talk more about my thoughts on her death, I started to pull away.

Dean came into my room with some movies and blankets and we cuddled and watched movies. He didn't force me to talk, just held me while I cried and rubbed my back in comforting circles. He listened when I wanted to talk and talked when he thought I needed to hear something. Choosing between them was going to be difficult, I knew.

Trouble was, I also had no one to talk to about this. I wasn't going to go to Sam and gush about how his brother's kiss made me feel, and I sure wasn't going to talk to Dean about Sam's kiss. Talking to Cas was out too because I didn't quite trust the angel to blurt out my feelings to either brother. This left me with no one.

We were working on a case with Rowena when the witch sensed something was off between the brothers and me. After an awkward interaction between Dean and me, she waited until they'd left the room and said, "What's going on between you and them?" I glanced her way from where I sat going through some books and frowned. "Nothing," I said, shifting a book to the side.

Rowena chuckled, "There has to be something, you could cut that tension with a knife dearie." I shook my head, about to deny it again when she fixed me with a look. "You might as well tell me, I'm all you got." So I told her, not sure I quite trusted the smirk on her face as she heard what happened, and when I finished, all she said was, "So, what's the problem then?"

I shifted a couple of books aside and said, "I can't choose between them, Rowena, that's the problem." She laughed, long and loud, and for a second I thought that Sam and Dean were going to come back and see what was going on. She stood up and walked over to the cauldron she had placed and flicked her fingers a few times, then said, "Who said you had to choose between them?"

I frowned, not following her at all. She turned her back on the cauldron and faced me, waiting for my brain to play catch up. She waved her fingers forward as if she was trying to speed the process along, and when I finally caught up to her, I opened my mouth to say something and she held her hand up, silencing me.

"Sweetheart, those Winchesters are two big, burly hunks of men. Not who I would pick, sure, but why should you have to choose between them?" She had her hands on her hips, her curly red hair thrown behind her back. I pushed the books away, "Because I can't have them both, Rowena." She laughed again, "Society's rules are not one size fits all, dearie. What works for one person doesn't work for the other. You can have your cake and eat it too, or in this case, Sam and Dean."

I let my head fall into my hands and asked, "But what if they don't see it the same as you do, Rowena?" I heard her footsteps as she walked over to me, pulling me up and making me look at her. "That's the thing, love. You've got to ask them. You have to talk to them. You can't walk around with all this awkwardness forever."

I shook my head, "Let's get back to the case." She shrugged her shoulders but remained silent, having said all she needed to say. I pondered her words all the while, but every time I came back to the same conclusion, I needed to talk to them. I resolved to speak to them after the case was over, and once they'd come back and showered, I told them I wanted to speak with them in the library.

My hands shook as I poured myself a shot. I knew I was going to need it for the conversation ahead. I waited for them for a few minutes, but the conversation got put on hold again when Cas came in with an emergency, and they were gone again. Weeks went by and every time I tried to speak with them, something always came up.

Meanwhile, these weeks and months had been full of so many emotions and almost moments with each man. There was the time I was trapped with Dean in a small closet on one case, with enough room between us that I was pressed up against his chest, his lips mere inches from mine when Sam opened the door and got us out.

Then there was the time with Sam when we'd been kidnapped by a witch and she dosed me with a lust potion. I couldn't help myself under the potion's influence and by the time Dean and Cas rescued us, I was climbing Sam like a tree, desperate to press my lips against his. The embarrassment was two-fold when Dean pried me off his brother and I pressed my lips against his, my fingers reaching down to unbutton his jeans.

Cas yanked me off of Dean and held me while Sam administered the antidote, and once it kicked in, I felt super embarrassed and sprinted down to the showers. I undressed and stood under the warm spray, the events flooding my mind. I splashed warm water on my face and said, "Just when things couldn't be any more awkward between us and now this."

Figuring I was alone, I kept talking. "'You can have them both dearie.'" I tried my best to mimic Rowena's Scottish accent but failed. I reached for the shampoo and washed my hair. "What was she thinking? There's no way I'm going to sit them down and tell them that. For one thing, Dean is not one to share, and I doubt he'd be so willing to share me with his little brother of all people."

I rinsed the shampoo, my eyes closed. I snorted, "And like Sam wants to share with his older brother. I'm sure they're both past that stage in life." As I spoke out loud, running conditioner through my hair, I was unaware of the two figures who slipped into the steamy room. But then I smiled, rinsing my hair, "But I've gotta admit, it would be pretty awesome."

But then I frowned, remembering all those nights on the road, all those bars we went into, and all the women who flirted with them. "There is no way they'd be happy with me, not when they could have their pick of anyone." I leaned my head against the tile of the shower and sighed. "They'd never pick me," I whispered.

I was startled when Dean's voice rang out in the silence. "I guess you don't know us if you'd say that." I poked my head out of the shower and flushed when I spotted both men standing there, eyes on me. "Um-How long were you two listening?" Sam exchanged a look with Dean and asked, "Is this what you were wanting to talk with us about?"

I just nodded. "We should have had this conversation months ago, but we've been busy." I tore my gaze away from them and partially closed the curtain, letting the water fall over my back. "But since you've heard what I had to say, I guess I'm at the disadvantage of not knowing what you think."

There was a brief moment of silence as the two men exchanged a glance, which only irritated me. Sam and Dean didn't always need words to speak to each other, and I hated when they spoke with a single glance. "Don't do that," I said, watching them through the small gap.

"Do what?" Dean asked, his eyes on mine. I reached for my body wash and squirted a generous handful in my palm. "That thing where you two speak in glances. I need words, Dean." I heard Sam chuckle, "She knows us too well."

They shared another glance, one that I didn't notice as I was about to wash my body, and the curtain was suddenly flung aside. Startled, I glanced up and covered my body with my soapy hands. Both Sam and Dean stood there, staring at me. I rinsed my hands under the water and reached for my towel, snapping my fingers in frustration.

"My eyes are up here, boys." Both had different reactions. Sam's cheeks turned pink and he turned away, mumbling an apology under his breath. But Dean kept facing towards me, his eyes roaming my body as a smirk started to form on his face. He crossed his arms, "I know they are, darlin'"

I changed into clean clothes and met with them back in the library. Dean opened his mouth to say something, but we were interrupted by the arrival of Cas. "I've got a case for you." I sighed. I turned to Cas, to ask him what it was about when Sam's response startled me. "Give us a second, Cas. We've got a more pressing issue to solve."

Dean echoed his brother's words but the angel was confused. "We don't have time, Sam. That's the problem." Dean started to say something but I fixed both with a look. "We can figure this out later, okay? Let's go save the world." Cas started talking with Sam and I turned to go listen when I was stopped by Dean.

His voice was soft as he held onto my hand, squeezing it gently. "Are you sure? We should probably figure this out." I sighed, my eyes darting up to meet his. "I know. And we will. But you and Sam need to do what you're doing. Saving the world, hunting things." Dean chuckled, "Yeah, the family business."

I squeezed his hand back. "That's important. Much more than me finding out how you and Sam feel about me." Dean shook his head, "No, it's not, but we will be having a conversation later." I smiled at him. "I'll hold you to that Winchester." I stood up on tiptoe and impulsively pressed my lips to Dean's cheek before walking over to Sam and Cas.

We'd talk later, I knew. I wasn't prepared for that conversation, but we'd have it. But one thing I knew for certain. No matter what I did in this life, being here with them, hunting things, and saving the world, would always be important as long as I was with them.

[jumblejen]

We Were Always Going to End Up Together - Ch 18

Suptober 22, Day 18: Tattoos

On AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42237885/chapters/113095033

(Or read from the beginning: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42237885/chapters/106051008)

“Well friends that was an excellent meal,” stated Gabe from where he lounged in the back seat.

“Glad you enjoyed it,” said Dean. It had been a wonderful weekend. Friday was mellow and full of comfort. Today, had been great, hanging out with Cas. They had met up with Gabe for dinner at a restaurant on the other side of town and were now making their way back to Cas’ farmhouse.

“Is it just me, or are you driving very slowly?” asked Cas.

Dean grimaced. “That temperature drop they predicted seems to have hit a little early. Roads are kind of patching over with ice.”

“Should we stop somewhere?”

“No good place to stop. And it won’t get better until they salt the damn roads or the sun comes up again. And since it’s the Saturday after Thanksgiving, I’m guessing that we are out of luck on them sending plows out.”

They drove in a tense silence for the next few miles, even Gabriel opting for quiet in the face of icy roads. It made Dean’s skin itch.

“Guys, it’s not that bad. I’m just being careful. It stopped raining, so it won’t get that much worse. It’s not like it’s snowing so hard I can’t see where I’m going.”

“I’m sure you’d get us home safe no matter what,” added Cas, smiling at Dean in reassurance.

“That was too sweet, even for me,” grumbled Gabe.

Mood lightened, they kept driving. It wasn’t too long before they saw a car on the side of the road, flashers on and the hood up. Dean slowed down even more, pulling in behind the stopped car and throwing his own flashers on.

“I’m gonna see if they need help.”

Putting Baby in park, Dean climbed out of the car, leaving her running. At first he thought the car might be abandoned, but as he rounded the front of the car, a very petite red-head came into view, peering frustratedly at the engine.

“Excuse me,” started Dean, “Do you need help?”

She turned toward him as though she had been expecting him, a grim smile on her face. “The blasted machine stopped working and they say it’s going to be two hours before the tow truck can come,” she said in a Scottish accent.

“Sorry to hear that. I know a little something about cars. Mind if I take a look? See if I can get you on the road a little faster than that?”

“Thank you. Yes.”

Dean turned the flashlight on his phone and began assessing the situation. It didn’t take long to spot the problem, but it wasn’t a quick fix. At least not on the side of the road in the dark. He sighed and turned back towards the woman.

“Sorry, but I’m pretty sure your fan belt is busted. Car’ll have to go for repairs.”

“Great. Just my luck. Well. Thanks for trying I suppose.”

“Look, I know a guy who has a garage just a little way from here. Lemme see what I can do.”

The woman’s smile gentled and grew more genuine. “Why thank you dearie. I would very much appreciate that.”

Dean walked a few steps away from the car and dialed a number he hadn’t in much too long. It didn’t take long before the gruff voice answered. “Heya Bobby.”

“Dean! Been awhile since you called.”

“Yeah, I know. Sorry about that.”

“You in some sort of trouble?”

“Nah. Was driving home and saw a car stopped by the side of the road. Needs a tow. Service is going to be at least two hours, what with the ice and all. Any chance you can make it sooner?”

“I don’t have anyone driving tonight, and if I did, they’d already be out I’m sure. Also, you may not know this, but I can’t really do the job myself anymore.”

Dean was quiet for a bit. “No, I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah it’s that old spinal injury. Can’t get up in that thing anymore.”

“Alright. Well, we can wait with her.”

“You could do it.”

“What?”

“Still got your CDL?”

“Yeah. Seemed easier than letting it lapse and having to do it all over again otherwise.”

“Then you come get the truck and then go get the car. I’m here at the shop doing the books, so I can let you in.”

“You sure Bobby?”

“Course I’m sure.”

“Alright. I’ll be over in a bit unless this lady would rather wait the two hours.”

“Just make sure she’s cancels the other job.”

“Will do.” Dean turned back to the woman. “Not sure if you heard any or all of that, but I can go get a tow truck and get you taken care of, if you want.”

“That would be just lovely, dear.”

“You can wait here or come with us to get the truck. It’s just a few miles down the road.”

“I think I’ll come with you. It’s quite chilly out and it’s not like my car is working enough for heat.”

“I’m Dean, by the way,” Dean said over his shoulder as they carefully made their way back to Baby.

“Rowena.”

Dean opened the back door. “Scoot over Gabriel.” He closed the door after Rowena got in and then got in the front seat. “Cas, Gabriel, this is Rowena. Her car needs a new fan belt, which means a tow. So we’re going to drive to Singer Auto Repair and then I’m going to drive a tow truck back here to pick her car up and take it back to Bobby’s.”

“My hero,” Rowena said.

“Pretty sure he belongs to my cousin in the front seat there,” snarked Gabriel.

“Mmmm. They make quiet a beautiful pair.”

Dean blushed and focused on the road, tuning out everything else going on inside the car except for Cas’ hand sitting warm and possessive on his thigh.

A few minutes later they were pulling into Bobby’s. The man himself came out as Dean put the car in park. Dean got out of the car and took the keys from Bobby.

“You can leave the car in bay 3, that one’s empty. I’m headed home myself.”

“So just lock up on my way out? Where do you want me to leave the keys.”

“You know where they go ya idgit.”

Dean turned back to the open door of the car as Bobby waved and walked off. “Okay. I’m going to drive back now.”

“I’ll go with you,” said Cas, unbuckling his seatbelt.

“I’m not going with you,” said Gabe with a smirk.

“Do you need me to come? It’s quite comfortable here,” said Rowena from the backseat.

“Nah. Cas and I can go. Just give me your keys and we’ll be back in a bit. Just be sure to cancel the other truck you called. Wouldn’t want them to make the trip for nothing.”

Keys handed off, Cas and Dean climbed into the cab of the tow truck and set off back the way they came. The roads are still patchy with ice, but traffic was thin and it didn’t take long to get back to Rowena’s car. Cas stood in the cold while Dean hooked up Rowena’s car. It’s been awhile since he’s done this work, but he’d done it enough before that relying on muscle memory kept the process moving in the right direction.

“It was really sweet of you to do this for Rowena,” said Cas while Dean worked on getting everything hooked up.

“Never did like ignoring something when I knew I could help.”

“But calling your friend and driving the truck yourself…that’s a lot to do for someone you just met.”

Dean looked at Cas. “Yeah it is. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“I wasn’t suggesting you should.”

“When we were growing up. Sam and me, well. There were lots of times we could have used a bit of help. Most of the time, we were ignored. Sometimes it was worse than that. Like the time this guy caught me shoplifting peanut butter and bread. He coulda done a lot of things, but he insisted on calling the cops.”

“For stealing food?”

“Yup. Got sent to a boys home for a bit as a result. I actually really liked the home as it turns out. But I couldn’t help thinking later that he had other choices. He could’ve just taken the things back and kicked me out of the store. He could’ve traded them for a little manual labor. Hell, he could’ve just given me the food. But instead he called the cops.”

“That’s awful, Dean.”

“Yeah. It’s not the most awful thing, but it taught me a really important lesson. That I absolutely should help if I can. We had so little back then, and no real way to make our situation any better. And so many people that crossed our paths could have made so much of a difference with very little effort. I guess there’s always reasons not to help. But I think we should try anyway.”

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you right now?”

Dean smiled and walked over to Cas. “Yeah.”

Cas kissed him gently on the lips and then on each cheek. “I’m sorry more people didn’t help you.” He kissed his nose and then his neck. “And I’m sorry if anyone in your life has ever discouraged you from helping others.” Cas leaned back and held Dean’s gaze. “I think I might love you, Dean Winchester.”

Dean’s ears heated up as he blushed furiously. “Yeah, well. I think I might love you too, Cas.”

Grinning from ear to ear they separated so that Dean could finish hooking up the car. A short time later they were back in the tow truck and headed back to Bobby’s, goofy grins stretching from ear to ear. Dean felt like there was champagne in his veins, bubbling up with happiness. Cas loved him. He loved Cas. It felt like one of the truest things he had ever said.

Pulling the car into bay 3 and then unhooking it and putting the tow truck back where it had been originally parked to another little while. Dean hoped that Gabe and Rowena were getting along. Cas and Dean walked hand in hand back to Baby.

The windows were steamed up. Dean’s smile slipped as he noticed that Baby was moving a little. Anger rose up as he wrenched open the back door to reveal Gabe and Rowena locked in a passionate embrace, clothes askew, hair mussed. Dean tried not to focus on the tattoos that were now peeking out of Rowena’s disarranged clothing.

“What the hell Gabe?” yelled Dean.

“What? We’re all adults.”

“You do not get to treat Baby this way.”

“Oh don’t get your panties in a wad, Dean-o.”

“Seriously.”

“Boys,” interjected Rowena, who had hastily righted her buttons and was making attempts to straighten her hair. “Sorry Dean. One thing just led to another and before you know it…”

“Nope. That’s enough. Really. Anyway, your car is safely in bay 3 over there. Here’s the card for the garage. If you call tomorrow morning you can make arrangements to have the repairs done here or for another tow. Now, do you want a ride home?”

“Thank you Dean. Truly.”

“It’s no big deal.”

“Still. It’s not every day someone is as generous as you.”

“So do you want a ride…”

“Och, I’ve called for a car. Surprisingly, the rideshare place said it would only be a few minutes. So if you don’t mind waiting with me until they come? As a safety precaution.”

“Of course not.” Dean shut the back door and then got in the front. Cas had already gotten in.

Rowena was correct. It was not more than five minutes when another car pulled into the lot.

She scooted towards the door before turning back to Dean. “Do I owe you anything? For the tow I mean.”

“Bobby will work all that out with you later.”

“Surely I should pay you for your time and effort…”

Dean smiled and turned towards Rowena. “Really, it’s fine. You just get yourself home safe, okay?”

“Alright.”

“Hey Dean-o, I think this is my stop as well.”

“What?”

“Cas, you don’t mind do you?”

“Mind what,” asked Cas.

“If I escort this lovely lady home.”

Cas and Dean exchanged looks. “No, Gabriel. It’s fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Cool. Adios amigos.”

Gabriel and Rowena scooted out of the car, closing the back door sharply. Dean and Cas sat there until the other car pulled away and then a little longer.

“Is this how you expected the evening to end?” asked Cas.

“Nope! Really don’t want to dwell on it either. Poor Baby.”

Cas squeezed Dean’s thigh in sympathy. “They were still clothed at least.”

“Yeah, I don’t ever want to see more of your brother, that’s for sure. On the plus side, we get to have the whole house to ourselves tonight.”

“Mmmm. I think we can find lots of ways to enjoy that.”

Dean smiled in anticipation. It might take them longer than usual to get home, thanks to the ice, but when they did… well Dean did have lots of ideas about how to spend the time.