#Making this gifset made me realize that the sunset of their happily ever after is the same color as Kagome's powers

[shinidamachu]

@INUKAG-WEEK DAY TWO (MOONLIGHT): "whether you are the MOON or the SUN I do not know. Either way, you guide me out of the darkness and into the LIGHT." (insp)

[perlukafarinn]

for @inacatastrophicmind who made this gorgeous gifset at my request <3

After the dust has settled, after Chuck has gone and yet another apocalypse has been averted, Cas tells Dean that he wants to be human again.

Why, Dean wants to ask but he keeps his mouth shut. Cas’ brief stint as a human sucked in most ways imaginable but so has his much, much longer stint as an angel. Maybe he needs the change. Maybe they both do.

He disappears for a little while and when he returns, it’s with a smirking Rowena in his front seat and a vial of grace in a delicate chain around his neck. He hands it to Dean, and Dean accepts it even though he knows he doesn’t deserve that kind of trust. He’ll have to do his best to earn it, even if it takes him the rest of his life.

He also accepts it when Cas kisses him, because that part is at least familiar.

*

What isn’t familiar is what comes after.

Peace. Stability. Basically all things synonymous with ‘domesticity’ and isn’t that a strange thought. God is dead and Dean got his happily ever after sharing a bed and picking out curtains with the former angel who pulled him out of hell.

The curtains, for the record, were not Dean’s idea.

“I don’t get it,” Dean says, eyeing the lacy, mustard-yellow monstrosity that Cas is holding with disdain. “We live in an underground bunker.”

Cas turns the fabric over in his hands. “They would just be for show. Bare concrete is depressing, at least this would be nicer to look at.”

“Disagreed. And since when were you so into decorating?”

“I kept you, didn’t I?” Cas says dryly. 

That’s probably the most sarcastic, round-about way Dean’s ever been called pretty. 

“Aw shucks, thanks honey.”

Cas puts the curtains down, picking up another, even uglier pair. They’re pea-green and crocheted; he has to be messing with Dean at this point. “I like that.”

“If you buy those, I’m burning them,” Dean warns.

“Not the curtains,” Cas says. “You calling me ‘honey’. Please do it more often.”

That effectively shuts Dean up. He can’t be snarky with Cas when he gets this sincere.

*

Dean wakes up to an empty bed.

It’s rare enough these days that the realization immediately puts him on edge. He reaches over to Cas’ side, relieved to discover that the mattress is still warm. Glancing at the alarm clock on the nightstand, he sees that it’s only a little past six.

Despite the early hour, there is no way Dean can go back to sleep without knowing where Cas is so he sits up, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. He stumbles into the hallway in just his boxers and shirt, already missing the warmth of his bed.

As he nears the kitchen, he can hear someone moving around in it, and when he rounds the corner he spots Cas by the stove, spatula in one hand. 

“Cas?” Dean asks, voice still husky from sleep. “What’re you doing?”

Cas doesn’t so much as glance back. “It’s supposed to be an omelette.”

Dean walks up to him, hooking his chin over Cas’ shoulder and wrapping his arms around Cas’ waist. The supposed omelette is a burnt, scrambled mess of eggs, vegetables and sausage on the pan. 

“If you wanted an omelette, I could’ve made you one,” Dean says. 

“I didn’t want to wake you,” Cas sighs, removing the pan from the heat and turning it off. “I’ve seen you make it before, I thought I could do it myself.”

“Maybe next time follow a recipe?” 

“You don’t need a recipe,” Cas says, frustration leaking into his tone.

“Yeah, ‘cause I’ve been cooking for myself and Sam for thirty years. You can’t expect everything to come easy to you. Some stuff you gotta learn from scratch.”

“Nothing comes easy to me.” 

“I don’t know, you’re pretty good in the sack.”

Cas huffs out a small laugh at that and Dean smiles, relieved. Sometimes, making flippant comments only serves to frustrate Cas further. It’s a delicate line to walk and more often than not, Dean flounders off it and falls right on his ass.

“Now, c’mon, wash the pan and get started again.” Dean tightens his arms around Cas for a moment, dropping a quick kiss on his shoulder. “I’ll guide you through it.”

*

‘Happily ever after’ should be overstating it. 

It’s not like they’ve reached some blissful, unchanging state. Not like they never argue, or go to bed unhappy, or need to spend days apart because they’re feeling cooped up and everything they do pisses each other off. 

But, Dean thinks, there’s just no other phrase for it. 

Cas disagrees.

“Our story isn’t over,” he says, trailing kisses down Dean’s chest and this is so not the kind of talking Dean likes in bed, but he is the one who brought it up. “We don’t have a story, that was the point wasn’t it?”

Dean tugs at his shoulder and Cas acquiesces, straightening on top of Dean so they are face to face. 

“So you don’t wanna ride into the sunset with me?”

“Perhaps.” Cas looks him up and down. “What kind of riding did you have in mind?”

Dean laughs. “I have been such a bad influence on you.”

Cas grins and leans in, giving him a nice and thorough kiss. There’s no talking after that, theoretical or otherwise, and Dean supposes it’s just as well. Cas is right.

They’re not a story anymore. 

[whydontweband]

A Laugh Like Sunshine (Jack Avery Imagine)

Masterlist

*As Requested*

Feel free to request imagines, fics, gifsets etc. via my AskBox or DM’s.

Have a lovely day!

Word Count: 1749

Description: In which a curly haired boy adorned in all black, falls for the laugh of a passerby

All Rights Reserved

      My jet black Doc Martin’s echoed against the hot pavement with a deafening thud as the boys and I trapesed the boulevard of Santa Monica Pier. We’d been location scouting with management and a few publicists for several hours now, something most musicians won’t share with the public, though it’s a very real and painfully monotonous part of the job. I sighed, running my fingers absentmindedly through my shock of hazel curls that perched atop my head, damp and not nearly as pompous as they’d been at the start of the day, after several hours of constant sun beating down on them.

“Yo dude, how much longer do you think we’re gonna be out here?” I muttered in frustration to the blonde boy beside me. He shrugged, chuckling dryly as he rolled his eyes.

“Beats me, I voted for the first location- ya know, the one we visited 4 hours ago?!” I laughed, nodding as I patted him on the back sympathetically. The locations scouts and publicists walked ahead of us in rigid business suits and pursed lips, clutching a hefty red binder and a clipboard, where locations would either check off their requests, or not. So far- not. Finally, we stopped walking. The publicist who seemed to be leading the pack, Wendy, turned to us, her greying-blonde hair pulled tightly into a bun behind her head and her dark pencil skirt as unyielding as cement when she walked. I sighed.

“Alright boys, Walk across the street to the boardwalk and strike a few poses against the backdrop just there.” She gestured mindlessly towards the boardwalk, which overlooked the unending and admirably peaceful ocean. We nodded begrudgingly, making our way aimlessly across the bustling street towards the boardwalk. Don’t get me wrong, we love music, and we love creating music videos for our fans to watch- they’ve done everything for us. In fact, the first handful of locations and “poses” we viewed, we were more than excited to do whatever our management asked. But at this point, it was bordering 6pm after several hours out and about in the grueling Los Angeles heat, and we hadn’t eaten since around 10am, unless you count the stale, gluten free granola bars Wendy gave us a few hours ago, which I don’t exactly count as a sufficient meal to give five teenage boys.

As we stood on the boardwalk, trying our best not to be overcrowded by the dozens of people admiring the sunset on this Saturday evening (which in retrospect, doesn’t seem like a great day to go scouting for Los Angeles beaches, considering the crowd is literally insane) the noise that once filled the boardwalk of screaming children, frozen yogurt vendors and surfer repartee suddenly began to fade. I glanced to my friends beside me, but they only continued striking less than mediocre poses as the publicists and managers across the street discussed camera angles and lighting restrictions. I continued to glance about, the bustle of the foot-traffic around me softening somehow, similar to the way sky goes silent before the grandest of storms. Everything grew quiet, though only for me, and then I heard it. A piercing, radiating laugh, that rang in my ears with a melody and eloquence of a thousand symphonies- and I was mesmerized. My head turned frantically, desperately scanning the crowd, but I couldn’t manage to place the source of the sound. I glanced toward the other boys, and I knew they’d heard it too- though it was doubtful it rang in their mind the way it had in mine. I turned my head again, listening intently to the laughter as it grew quieter. It was enthralling, and beautiful- the kind of jovial and intense laughter that’s contagious, spreading like butter over the soundwaves with which it travelled. I smiled, biting my lip as I glanced across the street towards our managers, who were clearly very preoccupied with paperwork to have their eyes on us at the moment. I ran my hair haphazardly through my hair as I smirked, turning back quickly towards the boys beside me.

“Yo, Zach, I’ll be right back, okay?” I spoke hurriedly. Zach furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, but before he could question me I was gone, rushing through the crowd of people, head spinning in every direction as I listened intently for the sweet laughter I’d heard just moments ago. Funny, I’d never considered myself a person who believed in things like destiny, or soulmates. Things that involved having connections with someone, beyond our understanding- they all just seemed so fake and manufactured. But in that moment, I could have sworn I’d heard that laugh before, in a dream, or maybe from the depths of my mind. I couldn’t be sure, but it was intoxicating, and I was irrevocably drawn to its mysterious and unknown source as I sprinted through the crowd.

My Doc Martin’s echoing once again against the hot pavement, I rushed by in a manner that was anything but lenient as I slowed, the laughter resurfacing much louder this time. Bodies seemed to surround me in every direction, tourists and children and locals and vendors, but not the girl…the girl with the laugh. I weaved my way through several groups packed tightly together, until finally- and opening. A park bench a few yards away, with a balloon animal vendor beside it. A jogger seemed to be scrambled in the strings of the inflatable creatures, or rather, his dog’s leash had been. I smiled softly, shaking my head slightly as I watched the aggravated L.A. jogger complain to the frazzled balloon salesperson about incompetence as the dog merely panted happily, continuing to further tangle himself in a game of chasing his own tail. As I was about to step forward and help with the situation, my eyes panned towards the park bench, and I realized someone was already trying to help. A girl, around the same age as me, smiling as she pet the small dog sympathetically, trying her best to untangle his small legs from the strings. I smiled, stepping forward and bending down beside her to help.

“Seems like quite a tangle.” I chuckled softly, as she turned to look at me She smiled, nodding.

“Yeah, personally I think it’s pretty funny, but I wouldn’t say that to this little guy’s owner.” She whispered. I laughed, glancing up at the young jogger who was still loosely clutching the dog’s exercise leash. I smiled.

“I’m Jack.” I extended my hand, and she shook it happily.

“Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Jack.” I nodded softly, helping her with the poor tangled little dog in front of us. Smiling, I replied.

“Y/N, that’s a pretty name.” She blushed softly, shrugging.

“Thanks, you’re not so bad yourself.” I clucked softly, eyeing her curiously to see if she would catch her small mistake. Her face turned beat red as she smiled, shaking her head.

“I mean…ohmygod, I didn’t mean like, I meant your name not…I mean not that you’re not, ohmygod..” She murmured to herself. I chuckled, shaking my head.

“I’ll take the compliment.” I replied, and she smiled softly.

“You’re welcome…I guess.” I smiled as we continued helping the dog in silence.

    After the dog had been freed from his self-made trap of balloon ties, the jogger had begrudgingly continued on, and Y/N and I had left a generous tip to the poor, shaken up balloon vendor for the inconvenience- we walked side by side down the boardwalk whose crowd had now thinned substantially. I shoved my hands in the pockets of my dark jeans, smiling softly as we walked- the sunset radiating peacefully behind us.

“So, if you don’t mind my asking…do you live around here?” Y/N smiled, glancing towards me.

“I’m staying with my grandparents for the summer, they’re about 15 minutes from here.” I nodded.

“What about you?” She broke the momentary silence. I grinned, nodding.

“Beverly Hills, yeah.” She smirked, rolling her eyes playfully.

“Ohhh, I get it. Rich kid plays regular boardwalk boy on the weekends to pick up girls my helping them untangle helpless dogs from balloon stands!” My eyes widened suddenly as I opened my mouth to protest, only to find her beaming as she watched my terrified and perplexed face. I broke into a smile as she burst into a fit of laughter at the joke she’d had me believe. I smiled, when suddenly it hit me. The laughter. Her laughter. It was her, it had been her this whole time. My eyes widened once more as suddenly I was once again enthralled by her contagious, jovial giggle, ringing like an all-too missed melody playing in my mind, suddenly come to life. I watched her laugh, her eyes squeezed shut as she clutched her stomach, smile wide as the sound I’d fallen for not 20 minutes ago suddenly reappeared into my life- and I found that I was now falling for much more than her laugh.

As her chuckle grew to soft and quieted spurts of laughter, her breathing heavy as she regained composure, I realized I was still beaming. She smiled, raising an eyebrow as she folded her arms slightly, tilting her head to express confusion.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” She said, smiling softly as I shook my head, still unable to subdue my grin as I glanced towards the now only toasted warm concrete, and my still jet black Doc Martins. Reconnecting with her gaze, I said the only thing I could think to reply with in the moment.

“Nothing, you just have a beautiful laugh, that’s all.” I blushed. She smiled widely, giggling as she added a skip in her walk, falling into step beside me as we walked.

“No one’s ever told me that before.” She said cheerfully. I smiled, our eyes connecting once more, and it felt as though I’d seen those y/e/c a thousand times before.

“Well they should. Everyone should. It’s mesmerizing.” I hadn’t meant to say the last part as it probably came off strong, but she only smiled, extending her hand for me to take, giggling softly as I took her hand in mine.

“C’mon,” She said after a moment, “I know a place where we can get some amazing animal balloons.” I laughed, shaking my head as she squeezed my hand tightly, taking off in the direction we’d come, giving me no choice but to weave my fingers tightly through hers, and run to catch up.

 The End