#but I prefer to call him Bee!Cas

[unkindledangell]

A day late, but I did my drawing with the yellow flowers, Sastiel of course 🌻🌼

I drew S7 Cas and Sam 'cause I feel like it would be in S7 when Castiel would give flowers to Sam for the first time. No doubt he did at some point (?

Best quality:

https://x.com/UnkindledLeann/status/1772010472205615106?t=pSvQyhbogEb1rm7BIuQcxw&s=09

[shares-a-vest]

'i have writer's block', i say as i go back to a little ficlet i've had sitting in my drafts for months and immediately turn into 1.4k...

Summer, 1995

Wayne Munson's hearing isn't what it used to be, but he is almost certain he can hear a steady stream of cooing sounds coming from Eddie's bedroom.

He frowns and looks at his watch.

It's only 6:30am.

He yawns at the early hour as he shuffles to the kitchen for his prized coffee pot. And gosh darn it, he thinks. He really didn't want to be on a shiftwork sleep schedule while the boys are visiting with his granddaughter.

"Joanie-Bear..."

"Joanie-Bolonge..."

Yep – that is definitely Eddie with one of his silly pet names and a high-pitched sing-song voice.

Wayne can't help but stifle a chuckle as he fetches a clean mug from the drying rack on the sink. He's never known Eddie to wake up this early. Not even back when Steve moved in with his militant morning routine of jogging-showering-breakfast, all before Eddie's third alarm finally rustled him semi-conscious.

He sets his mug down with a clang on the bench as the incessant beeping of Eddie's blasted wristwatch sounds through his waning eardrums. He wishes he'd never bought the thing (in his futile efforts to make his nephew punctual) in the first place.

But the distant memory of Eddie's useless watch is quickly replaced with the disgruntled wailing of Joanie – a living, breathing tiny-human alarm that will surely be more than effective in getting his nephew up at a decent hour. For the next few years, at least.

He foregoes a courteous knock and opens the bedroom door to find Eddie sitting at the end of the bed with Steve in his lap as they both look into the crib that contains the source of the ruckus.

"What are you boys doing?" Wayne asks with fond amusement.

"Saying good morning to the light of our lives," Steve says, all syrupy-sweet as he reaches down and makes a shushing noise.

Wayne steps closer, smiling as he catches sight of his granddaughter.

"Hey, darling."

Joanie smiles so wide her eyes crinkle up, cheeks growing rosier as she kicks her feet with such vigour she could tear straight through her yellow onesie.

"We were basking in the peace and quiet," Eddie explains with an adoring sigh, "Gotta relish it before this little bean starts going about her busy day of toddling, talking and getting stinky."

"Talking?" Wayne is very much aware he sounds disappointed.

"Bee-shabba-fur," Eddie turns to Steve with complete seriousness, punctuating his babble-talk with a hand flourish.

"Eepa-nann-ca," Steve agrees, nodding up at Wayne like he is supposed to chime in.

He smiles, "I don't think you should be accusing anyone of being stinky, Eddie. I remember you at her age all too clearly."

His nephew frowns and hides behind Steve's shoulder to shield himself from any more barbs, even though his boy claps a hand over his own mouth to contain his laughter.

"A... app-ess," Joanie babbles and excitedly kicks her feet again.

"That means applesauce," Steve nods as Joanie starts grumbling again and makes grabby hands in the air.

"Looks like she's expecting that applesauce right now," he warns the pair as he scoops her up.

"But – " Steve protests.

"Shh," Eddie cuts him off as his eyes get all droopy, "Let him take her."

Wayne rolls his eyes.

Alright, so maybe Eddie still isn't a morning person. Parenthood has just forced it on him.

"Come on, kid," he says as his granddaughter cranes her neck to look out expectantly at the kitchen.

Although he is thrilled to have a whole two weeks with the boys and Joanie, the trio being back in Hawkins means that Wayne has to share them with others, including the Hendersons. Call him selfish, but he'd much prefer to just stay at home all day than pack half the house into the car for the short trip across town for lunch.

As Steve opens the car door to sit with Joanie, she grumbles and squirms, whipping her head about. Wayne dips his head to get a look at the fuss she beams, making an eh noise at the sight of him. He barks a laugh as she swivels to look at her father, her hair fashioned into two not-so-small buns giving her a disproportionate bobblehead.

"You want Pa to sit with you?" Steve asks the kid.

She shoots Steve a look like she is desperate for him to vacate the seat.

"You drive," Wayne nods, ensuring they arrange something before Eddie insists on driving.

He really doesn't feel like getting car sick before a Claudia Henderson-catered lunch.

With Steve safely driving, and Eddie being distracted by some local council drama playing out over the talk-back hour on the radio, Wayne can relax.

That is until he feels a little paw clawing at his hand.

"You wanna hold my hand," he asks Joanie as he offers his palm.

"Eh-ep...ish," she stutters out all spittle-filled.

"That means 'yes please'," Eddie chimes, leaning into the crackling radio as he scoffs at the disc jockey's quip.

Wayne chuckles, "Figured that."

He looks down to find Joanie now tracing the many lines on his palm. She's in a state of deep concentration, leaning as far forward as her car seat straps will allow as she goes.

She soon takes his thumb in her hand, clenching her fist around it as she grows tired, most likely due to the bumps in the road interrupting her tracing game rather than any actual sleepiness. Wayne can feel her soft fingertips press against the callous on his knuckle. She freezes and unfurls her hand to examine it.

She looks up with the same confused frown Eddie always had as a kid, her big brown eyes clearly expressing thoughts that she can't yet put into words. But she is most definitely thinking away in that little noggin.

She presses her forefinger to the callous to poke at it.

"Got a lot of those, I'm afraid," he explains, "Too tough for your hands."

She looks him over, eyes darting about as she opens her mouth like she is readying herself to respond.

For a moment, he thinks she might not have a damn clue, but then she takes his thumb again and pulls it close. He has to shift a little so his hand isn't twisting on the edge of the baby seat but sure enough, Joanie holds his hand for the remainder of the ride.

When they reach the Hendersons, Claudia announces she already has lunch well underway. She and Wayne think alike when Joanie is around. Rush through all that boring grown-up stuff to get straight to playtime with the kid.

Steve is going about his usual routine, carrying his daughter around the house to give her a tour while the others make the finishing touches on lunch.

Though Wayne is sure Eddie and Dustin are each sneaking samples and more getting in the way than actually helping. He smirks at the sound of something clanging in the kitchen and Claudia giving a scolding, "Dusty!" as he rounds the corner to the dining room.

Steve is walking around the table with Joanie in his arms, counting the chairs aloud. But Joanie isn't listening. She spots Wayne and beams.

"Pa!"

His heart stops – or maybe it swells.

Joanie outstretches her hands as she tries to wiggle out of her father's grip. And Steve, the poor boy, looks shell-shocked. He blinks, eyes as wide as Claudia's special-occasion dinner plates.

"Eh-Eddie!" Steve half stutters, half shrieks as tears begin to well up.

"What, what, what?" his nephew panics, walking in from the kitchen cradling a gravy boat like his hands are too full for anything else.

He walks right up to Steve and practically hooks his chin on his shoulder. Eddie frowns at his partner. And Joanie just keeps squirming, now turning her attention to her father.

"Pa!" she whines through a frustrated little hiccup as she points across the room.

Eddie yelps and cups a hand over his mouth.

Thankfully, Wayne doesn't hear the sound of the gravy boat dropping onto the freshly-vacuumed carpet. He doesn't even look to make sure. He's far too focused on his granddaughter.

"She said her first word," Steve whispers like he has a frog in his throat.

Joanie did say her first word.

Wayne's granddaughter said her first word.

And her first word referred to him.

Her Pa.

His bottom lip wobbles as they lock eyes once more.

But the moment is short-lived as the kid resumes wriggling about, pushing against Steve's possessive hold with some real force this time as she balls up a fistful of her father's pale blue polo shirt.

"Pa!" she dry-sobs.

Wayne shakes his head and steps forward. He'll have to save the serious emotions and a doting session with the boys for later if they want to avoid a catastrophic meltdown right now. He beams as he rushes the couple of strides it takes to reach his cranky granddaughter, who remains completely unaware of the marvel that has everyone at a useless standstill.

"Better do as she says," he laughs, taking her from Steve.

The boy has no choice but to give her up.

Joanie almost jumps into his embrace as she hooks her arms in a vice-like grip around his neck. Wayne looks at the boys, apologetic as he bounces his granddaughter.

Not that she needs settling now, anyway.

More of this au HERE

[hunterevie]

Story - Crotched Bee Family

Pairing - Castiel/Dean Winchester

Word count - 1557

Rating - Teen

Summary - With Cas spending more time on earth he wants to find a hobby to keep him busy, he decides on crocheting household items and clothes. When Dean starts hunting again he leaves Cas alone at home, who spends his time on his hobby.

Every time Dean comes back from a hunt though, he finds a new little crocheted surprise in his bedroom.

Cas had a new hobby. Ever since he had decided to spend more time on Earth with his husband, and less time with the angel garrison, he was finding himself getting a little bored. He tried to while away days by reading, doing a little research for cases, or writing poetry, something he had found he had a natural talent for. But he got bored of them quite quickly, preferring to do something a little more hands on.

That’s when he starts crocheting. 

It was a weird thing for him to progress to, but he was really good at it. Jumpers, hats, scarves, blankets, bags, you name it Cas could probably crochet it. He had already made them matching jumpers, soft to the touch and wonderfully comfortable. Sam laughed when they wore them the first time, but Dean just thought he was jealous that he didn’t get one.

As he grew in confidence, he decided he could sell some of his items. So that he wasn’t just clogging up their room in the bunker. Dean was all for it. Anything for a bit of extra money. And Cas was making quite a bit of money, enough for them to put some savings away to look at buying a property for their own.

It would be nice to get away from the bunker, and stop mentally scarring Sam every time they were remotely affectionate. Maybe the space could help them move further forward in their relationship. They had spoken in the past about having a family of their own, maybe with a home it was one step closer to becoming a reality.

Things were going well with the new hobby, that was until Dean started doing a bit of ad hoc hunting.

At first, Cas insisted on going with him. Wanting to be there to make sure his husband was safe, knowing he would be able to heal him quickly if he became too injured. But Dean insisted on Cas staying in the bunker, telling him that if they were in too much danger they would call him. As he was still an angel, Dean was confident he would be there in seconds and everything would be fine.

Still Cas worried.

On Deans first night back from a hunt, they were cuddled together under the comforter. Pressing soft little kisses against each others lips, biting gently and massaging to draw out wonderful stuttering noises. Wanting to feel more of his husband, Cas started sliding his lips down Deans neck. Licking and sucking at points, pulling out intoxicating groans. Although lost in the sensations, Deans eyes fluttered open briefly. Wanting to see his husband.

It was then he saw it.

Out the corner of his eye he saw a little soft crocheted creature, a bumble bee with bright yellow and black lines on. The wings were a pure white, soaring high from its back and it had an adorable little smile on his face.

“Erm sweetheart.” Dean said, tapping him lightly on the thigh. The only response a soft ‘hmmm’ against his neck before Cas went back to kissing tenderly. “Sweetheart.” That bought Cas out of his task, he pulled back, looking into his husbands eyes with those beautiful blue lust filled ones.

“Yes handsome?” He asked, hand coming up and gently caressing his cheek. Staring at him with so much affection it was making Deans cheeks heat up.

“What’s that?” Dean asked, pointing over to the table behind Cas. His husband turned around, searching where his eyes were looking. He could see his shoulders jerking a little where he was chuckling to himself.

“It’s a bee.”

“I can see that sweetheart, but…where did it come from?” Now Cas was looking back at his husband, a look of confusion in his eyes.

“I made her.” Ah right, he had obviously graduated from making bedding, clothing and accessories to making tiny little soft toys.

“Her?”

“Yes. She’s called Britney.” Of course he picked the name of a famous pop star to name his little creation. That was so adorably Cas. “Do you like her?”

“She’s very cute Cas.” Dean responded, moving down and taking those lips in his own again. Now he had satisfied his curiosity, he got back to the matter at hand.

With things becoming more dangerous out there, Dean found himself on more and more hunts. Leaving Cas alone in the bunker more frequently. Although Cas insisted he could come with him, Dean still refused.

Every time Dean came back home, he found himself faced with even more bees that Cas had made when he was away. Large ones, tiny ones, medium sized ones. All taking pride of place on the bedside table. Staring at them as they were reacquainting themselves after being away from each other for a short period of time.

It was after the 10th bee he decided he had to say something. When Dean had arrived back, Cas pulled him straight into their bedroom. Pushing him up against the wall and pressing delicate kisses against his neck and shoulders, petting softly down his sides and hips. As he opened his eyes and looked over he noticed the latest addition to the bee family, one that was so large it took up a portion of the bed and was the size of a pillow.

“Cas…Cas.” Dean said gently, pushing his husband away so they could look into each others eyes. “What is going on with the bees?” It wasn’t tactful but he thought he should approach it head on.

“What do you mean?” Cas asked, that confused little lilt in his voice that made Deans heart melt. His husband was truly the most adorable man in the world.

“Well erm…you only seem to make them when I’m away on hunts. I just wondered why I guess?” His husband looked away for a moment; staring over at his little bee family. It was as if he was trying to work out why himself. After nearly 5 minutes he looked back at Dean.

“It’s the only way I can cope when you’re gone.” His eyes were watery from the admission, a stray tear rolled down his cheek, wiped away by Deans calloused thumb as his hand held Cas’s cheek with all the tenderness in the world. He pushed forward and pressed their foreheads together. Cas shut his eyes, breathing in Deans scent for a moment as he composed himself. “I’m so scared when you are away Dean. All I can think about is a call saying you’re hurt or…or worse, you’re…” He couldn’t say the words, stopping as a little hiccup escaped his lips, head dropping to his husbands shoulder. Dean rubbed his husband back, hoping it would sooth him.

“I know sweetheart. I’m fine though, Sammy is with me and I know you’ll be there quickly if anything goes wrong.”

“Why can’t I come with you on these hunts Dean?” He asked, looking back up with glassy eyes. “I’ll feel so much better knowing I was there to help if things went wrong.” Dean understood that, he did. But he had his own reasons for wanting to protect his angel. Sighing he pulled Cas into his chest, arms completely wrapped around his body as he pulled his head into his chest. Swallowing, gaining the courage before speaking.

“Because I’m terrified of losing you Cas. If I get hurt, at least I know you’re around if I need saving. You can get there quickly and heal me. But if somebody has an angel blade, if they get one good shot at you then…that’s it.” He managed to unwrap his hand from his husband, laying it on his chin as he pulled his head back. Tenderly tilting his head up so their eyes were locked again. “And I can’t lose you sweetheart. Not after it took me so long to get you back.” He leant down and nuzzled their noses together before he pressed his forehead against Cas’s again.

“I don’t want you to hunt anymore Dean.” There was so much pain in those words, tears were forming in the back of Deans eyes now. Seeing his husband so vulnerable and scared about his hunting.

“That was my last hunt angel. I promise. I spoke to Sam on the way back and told him I couldn’t do it anymore. I just want to spend the rest of my life with you in safety, not putting myself in danger on hunts.” The relief that flooded Cas’s eyes made Dean smile.

“Thank you Dean.” They pushed together again, lips meeting in a chaste kiss once more.

“No worries angel.” Dean looked around the room at all the crocheted toys. “What are we going to do about all the bees?”

“We’re keeping them Dean. They’re our little bee family. I can’t get rid of them.” Cas said with all the seriousness in the world, causing his husband to laugh hard. Almost doubling over as he did so, loving how adorable and dorky he was at this moment. Cas couldn’t help but smile also.

“Okay, I guess we can have our bee family watch over us then.” Dean said, kissing his husband once more.

Maybe one day, in the distant future, they could pass that little bee family onto their own children.

He could only dream.

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Hi! Can I get a Supernatural matchup?

- My Pronouns are she/her.

- Currently a university student majoring in clinical mental health (considering switching to art rn).

- I'm an artist, writer, and musician.

- I'm an INTJ and I'm a rather big fan of having my own personal time to decompress.

- I have a more detached social style so I'm considered "hard to get to know" sometimes because I'm not super social.

- I spend my time painting, playing piano, playing video games, or doing my own personal research.

- I enjoy going to literature events like poetry readings, and I also enjoy going to art shows.

- I go to oil painting seminars regularly and have my own personal collection of fine art and poetry.

- I'm an avid player of Dungeons and Dragons (I'm a massive Baldur's Gate fan) and my favorite thing about it is making up character backstories and doing art of my characters.

- I enjoy the aesthetic of tattoos and plan on getting a sword on my sternum.

- My love language is quality time/parallel play. I enjoy doing my own thing while someone else does their thing.

- I enjoy civil debates and going to theatre. I enjoy going to musicals and plays.

- My favorite musicians are Hozier, Type O Negative, Flora Cash, Florence and the Machine, Lord Huron, and Metallica.

- My favorite books are Crime and Punishment, Dracula, Pride and Prejudice, and The Strange Tale of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

- I'm a big fan of snacks and snacking and I keep a (large) bag of pretzels and a redbull in my tote bag.

- My family calls me a Renaissance reincarnation because of my varied interests.

(I have a preference for male/masculine presenting characters)

Hello! Here's your SPN matchup! I hope you like it! <333333

---

(Romantic);

---

Supernatural;

Castiel:

🐝 Who knew that already being friends with Dean and Sam would lead you to meeting Castiel - you had known the boys for probably more than a year, and then you finally get to know the man behind all of the funny bee stories; though you are not too social with new people/people in general, Cas is the same, so you both go slow and slowly warm up to each other

🐝 Once you both get used to each other, it's not long until you become good friends - Cas sometimes get caught staring at you by Sam and Dean, and when he goes to them for help on these new feelings he's having, Sam gives him advice; near the end of the seven months of being friends, Cas gifts you the First Edition of Pride and Prejudice

🐝 Skipping to when you both are official, you and Cas spend some quality time together - when you're not in college studying or when you are not busy in general; you often bring Cas to the poetry readings or go to art shows - and when not out and about together, you both paint or just eat a ton of snacks while listening to music (my money says he likes Hozier too)

🐝 If you need time alone to decompress, Cas totally understands, he'll find something else to in the meantime, maybe go find some bees...

🐝 Cas loves learning more about you, your favorite snacks, hobbies, movies, and so on, he could spend hours just learning how to play D&D just so he could play with you or have a conversation with you about it; he loves how passionate you are in the things that you like, and how kind and understanding you are once he got to know you - he just massively adores you in general

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

Creating Comfort From A Shopping Spree

Summary - Part 31 in the Comfort series

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Reader, Reader x Sam (platonic), Reader x Bobby (father-figure), Andre (OG Character) x Reader (best friends)

Series Masterlist | Masterlist 

Both Cas and Sam give you curious looks as you get up and go to your bedroom to get changed and then make your way to the garage. Taking the red car you make your way into town to the closest mall. You navigate your way through the aisles with a few stops in mind. Your first stop is a jewelry store. You look through the glass at the arrangement of fancy diamond rings glittering under the bright fluorescent lights. But you know they’re all too showy, so you go inside to explore their more subtle offerings.

A young saleswoman in a black dress and fancy jewelry comes up beside you. “Can I help you?”

“Yes actually.” You hold up your left hand showing off your engagement ring. “My fiancé and I are gonna elope and he asked me to pick up the rings.”

“Do you have some put aside or?”

“No. He trusts my judgement to pick them out for us.”

“Alrighty then. What style do you have in mind?”

“We’re definitely not showy people, just something plain, preferably pure silver for both of us.”

She pulls out a box full of silver rings, some with engravings and patterns and some plain. You choose a simple silver ring for each of you and Dean. Once you finish paying for them you stash the ring boxes in your pocket and head to the next store: a women’s formal wear store. You make your way through the aisles browsing through their range of white dresses looking for something that you can see yourself in. You brush past floor length gowns, short tight dresses and puffy ball gowns. You give up on the bridal section, finding it too fancy for your blood and start browsing through the bridesmaid and reception dresses instead. Your eyes land on a knee length white dress with a lace overlay, lace sleeves and a high lace neckline. Just to be sure you take it to the fitting room and try it on. As you admire yourself in the mirror you can’t help but smile. The dress itself fits well but your black sports bra ruins the look and you can see the outline of your dark underwear through the light fabric. You make a mental note to add another stop to your journey as you change back into your normal clothes. You pay for the dress and the cashier folds it nicely in tissue paper and packs it into a white paper bag.

You make your way to the next stop on your list: a lingerie store. As you walk through the doors and inspect the skimpy and sexy bras and g-strings you feel so out of place. You push through the feeling and make a bee-line for the selection of white garments. After another tedious deliberation you settle on a lacy white strapless bra and matching lace panties that cover enough for you to still feel comfortable and modest but are also sexy. At the checkout there’s a display with toys and condoms; you take a box of condoms from the display and place it next to the underwear and the cashier rings it up. Once you pay for everything you stuff them into the bag with the dress and head towards your last stop. On the way to the final store a shoe shop catches your eye. Your eyes land on a simple pair of white platform heels with ankle straps adorned with silver buckles. Deciding to go the full mile you ask the cashier to find them in your size and add them to your haul.

With no further distractions you go to a beauty parlour for your final stop. You ask for the full works: hair trim and style, wax legs and brazilian, mani-pedi, eyebrows and subtle make up. You decide if you’re going to do this you want to do it right. Knowing Bobby’s on his way to Dean, you call Bobby and ask him to fake a case and get Dean in a suit and tie. As you get in your car to head back to the bunker the feeling of dread fills your stomach. You know there’s no guarantee he’ll agree to your plan or even want to see you, but you try to push down the feeling and replace it with hope.

Back in your room you change into the new lingerie, put on deodorant and perfume, then the dress and shoes. Then for pockets, comfort and subtlety you slip one of the flannels Dean left behind over the top of your dress. You stow the rings, knife, gun, and a few of the overpriced condoms in the pockets and then walk out into the kitchen in search of Sam. You’re a little unsteady on the heels for a few steps but you eventually get the hang of it, focusing on your balance and executing each step perfectly. Sam hears the clicking of your heels before you even get into the room and meets you halfway with his gun drawn. His jaw drops when he sees you, along with his gun

“Wow!”

“Is that a good wow?” You ask.

“Ye-yeah, of course. I’m just not used to seeing you like this. So, what? You’re gonna try and sneak up on him in disguise?”

“Not exactly … I plan to get married. I’ve had this ring long enough, it’s time to act on the promise we made.”

“You think Dean’ll agree to that?”

“Not really, but I can be pretty persuasive.”

“You gotta let me come with you then. I can’t miss you and my brother’s wedding.”

“Fine, of course I want you there. But you stay back, let me talk to him alone first.”

“Deal.”

You nod. “Okay, Cas, where are you? It’s go time!”

You feel a breeze behind you and then sense his presence. You turn around to face him. He gives you a confused look and then reaches out to touch your forehead but you stop him right before he makes contact.

“Wait. One more question: as an angel of the lord can you marry us?”

He looks between you and Sam, confused. “You and Sam?”

“No. Me and Dean.”

“You’re already soulmates, your souls are tied to each other for eternity.”

“Then just humour me. Can you read the rites and do the ceremony?”

“It seems redundant in the scheme of things, but sure.”

“It’s really just a symbol. I want him back and I figure it's time to go big or go home. I need to show him how serious I am about us despite the new revelations and challenges.”

“Very well. Shall we go?”

Sam cuts in as you nod, “I’m coming too.”

Cas gives him an indignant look but lifts his fingers to his forehead also. A moment later you’re all standing outside a fancy hotel. You smile and shake your head up at the glass covered building.

“Figures. He knows I’d never look for him somewhere like this. Where are we? Hollywood?” You ask.

“Miami, Florida,” Cas says matter-of-factly.

“Definitely never would’ve thought to come here. He’s good, but not good enough. Which room?”

“He’s not here right now, but when I last checked he was in room 314. Third floor,” Cas says.

“Thanks. I’m gonna go in there and wait for him to come back. You guys go somewhere and keep out of sight. You can’t let him know I’m here before I see him.”

“Of course. Go, before he gets back,” Sam says. He gives you a quick hug before lightly pushing you towards the large glass doors.

You walk inside to the service desk. You hold your head high and put your hands on the desk confidently showing off your engagement ring.

“Hi.” You say trying to get the receptionist’s attention. She walks over to you. “Hi, I want to surprise my fiancé, we’re getting married this weekend. He’s in room 314, I’m just hoping to get a key.”

“I can’t give out the keys to any other customer's room.”

You pull out a $50 note and place it on the bench. “I just want to give him a pre-wedding gift. Please.”

She pulls out a key card with the number 314 printed on it and puts one hand on the $50 as she places the card on the bench. You take the card and let go of the note. You make your way up to his room.

Inside it’s exactly as you’d expected: a mess with mostly empty take out containers, pizza boxes, empty bottles, the sheets are strewn around on the bed and his dirty clothes are all over the room. With your anxiety on overdrive thinking about what he’s going to say, you’re unable to sit still. You start tidying up, putting all the clothes in a pile in the bathroom, you make the bed and stack the rubbish in and near the bin. By the time the room is neater you’re starting to sweat and mess up your hair so you turn the AC down and sit on the edge of the bed to cool down.

Eventually you hear the electric lock beep and the door knob click. You sit up straighter on the bed and quickly try to compose yourself.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Tag list: (Leave a like or comment on this post or let me know below if you want to be added to the tag list for this series)

@bitchwitch1981, @muhahaha303, @justrealizedimmascifygurl, @mcdowell-123, @leigh70, @marvelsmarauder, @losa12308, @tapedeck-hearts, @luvjaida, @peachtxa, @ambearsstuff, @shadow-of-a-cloud, @slut-for-buck, @iprobablyshipit91, @sassy-pelican, @fallenlilangel99, @heavenlyhopeful0, @nelachu2423

[lower-the-volume]

I always feel so alone in how annoying I find crazy infantalized cas, but to be honestly it’s probably most exhausted by the fandom. It was sooo goofy and out of character, and Dean had every right to be angry and impatient with him. He cannibalized souls and went on a murder spree and then got killed off and it’s like they hated the fact that they had to bring him back so much that they wrote an entirely different character out of spite, and the fandom recalls it fondly because he was finally the blameless victimized cinnamon roll uwu fanfic etc ect character that they prefer :/

Honestly fandom is a little bit like Dean in this regard. Forget everything Cas ever did that wasn't the best choice. Even if I do not particularly care about whole soul debacle. One thing I really blame Cas for was breaking Sam's brain. Which Dean actually might've forgiven little too fast.

So called bee!Cas is hard. Because I don't really know how you end up with character like this. It's not memories taken away. It probably was writers (showrunner) being petty or assuming that you need to do this to, I don't know, forgive Cas? And obviously Dean has his reasons to yell at Cas. Whole running away from responsibilities is not what Dean knows Cas to be. He needs his help, but also probably wants real Cas back. And I definitely prefer Cas dealing with what he did the way we had it in s8. It hurts but at least it makes sense.

[twofrontteethstillcrooked]

Destiel Month, 11 Nov.: Hands

The man's smile was tentative as he walked back towards Dean. "You must be one of Mr. Singer's sons."

deancas meetcute ust, au + human cas

"May I help you?" Dean asked in his meanest voice despite the polite phrasing. Over the years loads of derelicts had turned up in Bobby's yard to argue over the price of an oil change.

"Oh! Hello." The man on the top step turned around, clearly surprised someone had answered the door. 

Dean did well to tamp down his own surprise at the visitor's shock of dark hair and kind blue eyes. 

The man's smile was tentative as he walked back towards Dean. "You must be one of Mr. Singer's sons."

At that, Dean did almost smile, on instinct. He patted the doorjamb. "Ah. Yeah, in a manner of speaking." He felt shy, suddenly. "And you are?"

"Castiel. I live next door."

Dean's eyebrows rose. "The new neighbor."

Castiel looked down with what seemed like a banked sigh. "I gather there was some controversy about that at some point."

"Well, you know small towns like these – if people didn't have something to gripe about and gossip about they wouldn't know what to do with themselves." Dean eyeballed the palm-sized round tin Castiel was carrying. "Bobby's gone into Viborg to pick up some parts from a scrapyard."

"That's fine," Castiel said. "If you don't mind I'll just leave this with you." He held out the tin.

Dean took it from him and pulled off the lid. Inside the tin was a curious, round, pale yellow bar that almost looked like candy. "This edible?"

"Technically. The ingredients include olive oil, coconut oil, and beeswax." Castiel touched a fingertip to the top of the bar. "It's lotion. Mr. Singer was saying that his hands were cracking from all the washings and heavy duty detergent he has to use to remove grease, and I was telling him that I make these from scratch. They are very good at moisturizing with regular use." He looked at Dean with an earnest expression. "In all honesty, I usually pour the recipe into molds that make the bars look like honeycombs with a little bee in the corner, but my impression was that Mr. Singer would prefer one less…fancy."

Dean felt himself enjoying looking at and listening to Castiel talk. "Bobby's told you to call him Bobby, hasn't he?"

"Oh, yes," Castiel said. "Several times." His eyes were just the slightest bit mischievous, and so goddamn blue.

"Just checking." Dean realized with a pang that the natural end of the conversation was fast approaching. "Well, thanks, I'll give him this soon as he's home."

"I'd appreciate that." Castiel tipped his head up the smallest amount, to look Dean right in the eyes. "You must be Dean."

Hearing his own name come out of Castiel's mouth in Castiel's deep voice nearly made Dean shiver. "How do you figure?"

"Mr. Singer once described Sam – your younger brother, I believe? – as 'taller than good sense should've allowed.'" Castiel's eyes smiled. 

Dean couldn't argue with that. He stuck out his hand. "I'm Dean."

Castiel shook it, his grip firm and his hand, Dean couldn't help but notice, perfectly huge. "Very nice to meet you."

"You too, Cas." Dean let go with an outsized amount of reluctance; he'd really liked the way Cas's hand fit in his own. 

The two of them stood there looking at each other for a few breaths. 

Sounding somewhat less than enthusiastic, Cas finally said, "Well, I won't keep you." 

But you could, Dean thought. That might be nice, even.

Out loud, before he could think too hard about it, he said, "If you're not busy, could I interest you in a cold beer?" 

Cas's face lit up. 

[commanderbengiskywalker]

98. Fordo, Kit, and Plo whump where Fordo's finally done with the republic?

98: “I am done with…”

Characters: Fordo, Monnk, Plo Koon, Kit Fisto and Bant Eerin.

Summary: Fordo gets a call to come down to the Temple.

A/N: I apologize for getting this in late. I hope you enjoy it. This is set in the Shadows of Republic Verse. The other is on the way.

Beep…

Beep..

He groaned, as he tossed to his other side, pulling the blankets closer. He sighed, attempting to return to dreamless sleep. There was creaking above him as his vod’ika turned, beeping clearly disturbing the other.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

“Fordo…” the voice above him sighs.

There was no response.

Beep.

Beep.

“Ori’vod…” they said again, growing irritated, tossing. “Ori’vod, get the comm.”

Still no response from the one below, only the sounds of tossing and turning.

Beep.

Beep.

Bee–

“Ori’vod!” The other hissed, banging the bunk.

“...Yes, Stec?” The one below huffed, tiredness edged at his voice.

“Answer the comm, Fordo,” Stec hissed. “It’s been beeping for half an hour.”

“I know.” Fordo replied flatly, though muffled by the pillow.

“So answer it.”

“The vod’ika know not to call me after the fourth ring. It can wait.”

Beep. Beep.

Beep. Beep.

“Clear it can’t, Fordo.” He states. “Now answer it.”

There was a sigh and the sound of shuffling underneath.

Fordo huffed, reaching for his comm on neat nightstand. He blinked as the bright blue light of the holocommunicator sprung to reveal another one of his younger brothers.

“Monnk,” he said, gazing at his clearly dressed brother. Presumably it was morning where he was. “What is it that you need?”

Monnk was fairly capable like all his brothers were. He rarely needed assistance like Kote, Rex or Wolffe did, but he wasn’t like Doom or Gree who preferred being a solo platoon. Then again, he was more suited for diplomatic missions when the underwater missions weren’t available.

“Master...Fisto..” Monnk starts, glancing somewhere off screen, seeming worried, “has been... irritated lately.”

“How so?” He asked, rubbing the exhaustion from his eyes.

Kit Fisto was a...difficult Jetii to deal with. Not disobedient or uncooperative on missions per se–at least from Monnk’s opinion–but is rather hesitant to trust. He always says that he patrols a ways away from him, while being as always as upset. Though the leading General could not blame him. The Republic is full of a bunch of shebs. With only a few trustworthy ones–which are few and far between, in his opinion.

“I assume you read the reports of the Umbaran incident?” Monnk asked, clasping his hands on his helmet, rubbing it.

He raised an eyebrow. “No...we’re a bit preoccupied with the Hunter crew. Why?”

“The...Besalisk, Pong Krell was killed on Umbara.” He continues carefully.

“So? He’s a sheb and sheb’urcyin to the Republic. I fail to see why Master Fisto is upset.”

His younger brother was silent for a moment, glancing once more at presumably Fisto, who was presumably standing angrily somewhere.

“I think it’s best that you come to Coruscant, Ori’vod.” He said, gazing back at him.

He hums. “Very well, Monnk. Just don’t call unless he becomes more upset. Jate ca.”

“Nuhoy pirusti, Ori’vod.” Monnk said, as he turned off the comm.

He sighs, setting the comm back on the nightstand.

“What do you think it is?” Stec asked.

“I don’t know,” he grumbled, as he laid back down, “but if Fisto seems more agitated than usual, then it either has to do with the Grandmaster or…”

“The Koon?” He inquired.

“Hopefully not.” He replied. “Jate ca.”

“Jate ca.”

____________________________________________________________

They landed on Coruscant two weeks later after completing their mission. He and Monnk walked through the be’Jetiise Temple, passing by younglings who peeked behind their Masters’ legs or behind marble columns, looking at them with fear in their young eyes. While their elders frowned distasteful at them. The vod had free reign of their only home. It was natural for them to be upset, even if they seemed used to it at this point of the War.

As they walked, slowly but surely, the types of walls changed from those that were old, stained and cracked—to those of better conditions. They were more of beautiful marble that glistened with the sun shining through the tall windows, almost giving an air of peace and tranquillity. It almost gave him a false sense of hope for why he was called here in the first place.

“Is this wing closed off?” He asked, as he glanced about, noting the decrease of Jetii in the area.

“You could say that.” Monnk replied casually.

Though he did not say a word since he arrived, his casual nature seemed offsetting to him.

“This is Councilors Hall,” he continues, smiling, “or as it’s also known as–the Favoured Hall.”

He frowned. “What?”

The younger one asked, he halted in front of a pristine beige colored door. He glanced around the empty hall before he raised his hand and knocked.

“You remember the bounty hunters that were causing trouble for the Republic?” He asked, as they waited.

“Yes.” He answered, adjusting his helmet under his arm. “The ones who were ‘kidnapping’ the Jedi, yes?”

“Indeed.” He nods, as he glances once more before knocking again. “They were apparently the ones who killed Krell on Umbara.”

He chuckled. “They had every right to.”

The red head nods in agreement.

There were rumors of bounty hunters kidnapping Jedi and taking them to who knows where. Originally it started with those in the Outer Rim, picking up Padawans and Knights. Before becoming more bold and taking those of who Guarded the Senate Building. The head of security went missing halfway through the previous year. Since then, security has been lacking at the Senate Building with Senators becoming furious by this.

Though they weren’t the only ones, apparently. There were hushed rumours of the Grandmaster of the Order becoming more distant and irritated by the event.

Monnk sighed, as he knocked once more. “Fisto. It’s us.”

They were greeted with more silence.

“What’s wrong?” Fordo asked.

“There was...an investigation on Krell’s death.” He said slowly, knocking. “There’s a Padawan and a Knight missing from the mission.”

“I see...though not too worrying.” The General nods.

“Well that isn’t the—”

The door suddenly opened and revealed a Mon Calamari standing in the doorway. They were short, with big blue eyes staring at them, rubbing their hands on a towel. Though, Fordo couldn’t help but notice how parts of their dark blue robes and brown pants were stained with–what he hoped wasn’t–dried blood.

“Who—”

“Enter.” The Mon Calamari said simply, as they turned back into the apartment.

He glanced at Monnk, who calmly followed after the Jetii. He followed them into the rather large apartment, but it was hardly what he would call up to code with med kits covering the floor, packets of juice littered the counter and the dining table, the liquid staining it. Whereas the caf table–that was pushed to the side of the room–was piled with new or used gauze, a suture kit, and a few glasses of juice.

For a moment, he could’ve sworn that the fan must’ve been turned on low, as there was a faint whirring sound that buzzed through the apartment before he gazed at Fisto, as he sat cross legged on the floor with–what he feared the most–Plo Koon.

They sat there with Fisto holding him close, resting his chin on his head, while the other rested his head on his shoulder, wheezing as he slept. Though from what he could see, there were half attempts at bandaging laceration wounds along his back, sides and arm, as blood seeped through the gauze and onto the Nautolan’s robes and pants. If he cared he would have changed it by the looks of it, as he stroked his broken wrist.

“What...happened?” He grits out, glaring at the injured Kel Dor, fist clenched.

“Umbara.” Monnk answered, frowning with his arms crossed.

“What?” He hissed, glaring at his vod’ika. “Explain.”

“I told you, the Knight and the Padawan were unaccounted for after the mission was completed on Umbara while Krell was killed by the bounty hunters. Rex and Wolffe only mentioned that Krell was killed by bounty hunters, but failed to tell as to why the two leading Guardians were unaccounted for.” He explained calmly.

“Knight Skywalker and his Padawan?” He asked.

There was a faint whistle from the Kel Dor, but Master Fisto hushed him while stroking his forehead.

“Yes,” Monnk answered. “They are considered important as they are a part of the Grandmaster’s line.”

Kit hissed at the mention of the Grandmaster, glaring over his shoulder at them before returning to Plo.

“I understand...It is usually more of the...lesser known and easier to catch Jedi. Not much investigation being done for them.” Fordo mused. “Though it does not explain why they would harm Plo over it.”

“Well he was the other senior Jedi there with them, as well as having close ties with Skywalker and Tano.” Monnk said, stroking his chin. “The only other one was killed.”

“So? They interrogated the only suspect they had?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Indeed.” He nods. “The kidnappers got away through the ceiling so he and the vod say.”

He gazed at the wheezing Kel Dor, curled on his side, clicking softly at the Nautolan. His breathing sounded off, making small noises as he attempted to breathe.

“They nearly killed him over this.” He seethes, tightening his fist as he turns to walk to the door. “I am done with this karking Republic.”

“Who said it was the Republic who did this?” The Mon Calamari Jedi asked, as they leaned against the sofa behind the Jetiise.

He paused in his step.

“The injuries on Krell were too precise to be any given bounty hunter,” they continued, as they glanced down mournfully at the other Jedi. “The Grandmaster believes that most of the blows dealt to Krell were from a highly trained individual. With the final one being a Lightsaber to the chest which ended Krell.”

Fordo glanced back at his vod’ika.

“Skywalker and Tano are the recent ones who were taken. The other being—”

“Cin—” Master Fisto whispered.

______________________________________________________________

Mando’a translations:

Ca: Night

Jate: Good.

Nuhoy: Sleep.

Ori’vod: Big brother/sister/special friend.

Pirusti: Welll.

Shebs: rear, backside and butt.

Sheb’urcyin: “Butt kisser”.

Vod’ika: Little brother/sister/younger sibling.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it. I apologize for the delay and take full responsibility for it. I really enjoyed writing it and hoped it had a proper tone of suspense. 

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

Closets & Wendy’s.

“Last day of Pride!”

Dean projects himself onto Cas’s bed, ending up sprawled on his front, with an arm slung over Cas’s lap.

On receiving no more greeting than Cas’s hand landing in his hair and starting to card through it, he lifts his face from the comforter, props himself up on his elbows - chin tucked in a palm - and stares at his boyfriend.

Cas looks upset.

The corners of his lips tilt passively downwards, eyebrows carrying most of the weight of his frown.

“Cas?” Dean asks, neutrally - already regretting his overhyped entrance.

“I’m sorry- I don't feel -”

Words fade out, and Cas pauses. Then he turns to actually look at Dean, the sadness seeped into his eyes, and Dean doesn’t waste a moment getting up, knee-waddling over into Cas’s space and pulling him close.

Cas comes easily, planting his head on Dean’s shoulder, and exhaling a tired breath when Dean runs a hand over his back.

“What are you feeling?” Dean asks, after a beat, now trying to soothe Cas’s tense shoulders, rubbing gently over the cotton. Cas leans into his touch.

About three years of therapy, and nearly six years of being roommates - undergrads, and then actual friggin’ grad school - with Cas, basically Dean’s personal mascot for healthy communication, has led him to definitely know that it’s always a better alternative to talk about what you are going through, instead of what you aren’t.

(Or, you know, what you think you should be, just because your dumb, insensitive boyfriend who’s been obsessed with Pride since finally coming out and-slash-or best-friending up with Charlie Bradbury, is. And rather loudly, at that, because Dean Winchester’s a goddamn idiot.)

“Disappointment.” Cas says, morosely, but almost as soon as he hears his own words, he rephrases. “Uh. I’m the disappointment.”

“Well, did you secretly sneak out and mark yourself absent for the entire semester in all your 4.0 GPA classes when I wasn’t looking?”

“Dean.”

“Fine, 3.7.” Dean throws back. “Big friggin’ deal, nerd.” Cas lets out a huff of breath which almost resembles a chuckle, and Dean squeezes his arm around Cas. “You know that would’ve totally been a four if I’d been less distracting.”

“Interesting.” Cas corrects.

“Hot.” Dean throws back, just because he knows it’ll make Cas crinkle into one of his fond ‘what-do-I-do-with-you’ smiles. It does. 

“Perfect.” And Cas throws in a sigh, as if to solidify his point, and leans in to nuzzle Dean’s neck in a way so intensely Cas, that if anyone else had ever tried it, he’d either end up being tickled to death, or running the hell out of dodge. 

“We’re on you right now, Cheesy McCheesington.” Dean smiles back, and goes on. 

He’s not willing to let Cas close up into a ball of repressed emotions with happy only on the outside. That’s way more Dean’s thing - or rather, used to be. He knows he’s bettered his coping mechanisms. Mostly because every part of his life involves Cas now, and anything with Cas is good. 

They’ve grown a lot together - grown through a lot as well, and this is how they’ve done it. By talking through, the Castiel way. It still throws Dean off sometimes, how far they’ve gotten.

So when Cas whines in protest into Dean’s shirt, he knows exactly how to turn it into a side-hug. One of those, where they end up staring at each other from a three-inch distance.

Staring hard, Dean says it. “You’re the farthest thing from a disappointment, Cas. To anyone.”

The lecturers all adored him, their friends made it a point to keep proclaiming their affection out loud (thank god for Charlie Bradbury and co.), and Dean doesn’t think he could be more proud of Cas if he tried. 

He was a goddamn wonder.

He’d gone from a lanky, private-schooled, what’s-a-Star-War schmuck to one of Dean’s favorite people in the world. He was hilarious, and a genius, and kind. He’d grown into his shoulders, and into a stubbly kind of an age, and into this awesome, intelligent, pancake-making man of Dean’s dreams, and into his bee obsessions and organizational neatness - and complete, total perfection. 

(Dean needs him, appreciates him, and (not that subtly - to his credit), loves him in a forever sort of way.)

But before Dean’s properly began to remind Cas of any of it, he’s interrupted. 

“I’m disappointing me, Dean.”

There’s resignation in his tone, and evidence in every word he says. 

“June’s over. Again. And for all the marching with painted cheeks and the megaphones? For all the parades, and the celebrations of our identities, the togetherness, the being proud of being ourselves?” Cas lets out, bitterly, and Dean realizes he knows where Cas is going with this. “And I still haven’t come out to my family.”

Dean waits, sure that Cas isn’t finished. 

“How have I not done it yet?” Cas hisses, and it almost startles him - he’s swapped the upset for angry. It’s rarer. “I’ve known since I was a teenager - and we’ll have been together for five years in three months, Dean, and I just - I cannot believe I still can’t do it.”

He sounds helpless, and Dean wants to jump in, but he needs Cas to get the words out first. 

“What’s the matter with me? Am I not brave enough, or strong enough - or am I still hanging onto the hope that they’ll suddenly become better human beings and not disown me when I tell them?” Cas scoffs. 

He’s pissed at himself. 

“Maybe I still lack, as you say, free will.”

Dean has to step in at that. “That was six years ago, and you know I wouldn’t say it now.”

“Why not?” Cas challenges. “I couldn’t tell them then, either. I clearly haven’t changed.”

“Other things, Cas.” Dean says, and grits his teeth. This isn’t supposed to be them yelling. Cas is frustrated, and Dean’s listening - he can’t be frustrated back at him for the way he expresses it. “Other things have changed.”

Cas gives him a look, but Dean holds his end of it until it crumbles. Cas changes his offense. Mellows down - probably when he sees Dean’s restraint. “This is important to me. I want to do it. Then why can’t I tell them?”

He’s asking himself, but he’s also asking the only person who knows him as well as he knows himself, yet he’s also not asking at all - simultaneously, it’s also rhetorical.

Dean licks his lips. 

“Whatever be the answer to that, Cas, first things first. This doesn’t imply you’re not proud enough.” 

Cas looks away.

“Or, for that matter, not panromantic or demisexual enough.” 

Sigh. Shuffle, shift. And then he looks back up at Dean. The tears weren’t there before. “How do you know, Dean?”

“‘Cause I know this doesn’t decide that.”

“Why not?” Cas says, quietly.

“‘Cause,” He repeats. “How queer you are isn’t measured on a scale of how soon you come out once you know.” He pauses, judges the air. “It usually isn’t measured at all, unless we’re talking about a magical thing known as the Kinsey Scale.”

He judged right. 

Cas coughs, and it’s definitely to disguise a reluctant snicker.

“And you know, even if it were measured on the weird first thing,” Dean adds, serious again. “There’d totally be a different clause, and a separate key, mind you, for the people with douchebag families.”

“They prefer conservative, I think.” Cas says, smally, after an entire minute, as if he’d actually been rerunning Dean’s speech in his head for that long.

Dean shrugs.

Cas almost smiles. He’s calmed down.

“The strange thing is that it makes no sense.” He begins, heavy, albeit less severe on himself. “I’m twenty six. We co-own this apartment, and we pay our bills. We’re completely independent.” It never stops sounding surreal. That’s for another time. “Mother calls me on third Sundays, Gabriel sends Christmas cards. Other than that, I only spend Thanksgiving lunches with them, each year more horrible than the last. I know I wouldn’t miss any of them, nor regret being written out of the will. Or have my Novak cemetery spot passed onto Michael’s oldest. Or the gardener.” 

Dean snorts at that. The Novaks are truly something else. 

“There is no reason I can’t just come out. I just -” Cas cuts into his own sentence with a sigh, one signifying that he’s finally done speaking, and he reclaims Dean’s shoulder once more.

What’s important right now, is to make him feel better. A resolution to this isn’t within grasp at the moment, and Cas sounds drained. Dean - well, he does what he does best. He segues. 

“Wait.” Cas lifts his head. “You didn’t actually say you’re not out, did you?”

Cas squints at him.

“Dude. Being out doesn’t just mean telling your family. And getting subjected to toxicity and trauma, by means of it.” Dean points out, earnest. By that logic, courtesy of a long-dead mom, and a relatively-shorter-dead dad, he’s in the closet as well. “Hell, you put your hand in my back pocket at KFC, yesterday.”

“Oh.” Cas blinks. 

Dean grins, and Cas’s surprise makes it easy to do so. “You bet my publicly grabbed ass, it counts.”

Cas knows it counts. He knows everything that counts. But he indulges himself, and he indulges Dean - his bad mood slowly dissipating. “What else?” 

“You kissed me at Wendy’s last week.” Dean informs him, eyebrows raised. “Held my hand for a really long time in a Starbucks queue on Saturday. Oh, and all the gay bars count, buddy. Especially the bits where we grind on the dance floor, and then I blow you in the stall.” 

Cas opens his mouth to protest that has only happened once, but Dean meets his eyes with a pointed look. He’s got to bring it up.

“Every time I’ve ever taken you to a steak joint counts too. ‘Cause trust me, those are always dates, whether you know it or not.”

“Long drives are a date to you.” Cas deadpans. 

“Yeah, and Baby will never say you’re not out.” Dean throws back, and Cas actually makes it to a smile this time. Dean’s left feeling accomplished. (And sort of dazed, because it’s going to take a lot more than six years for him to get used to Cas being so easily beautiful, and being it right next to him.)

“You said you loved me for the first time at the Roadhouse.” Cas says.

Dean blushes. 

“And then you ran away before I could react, got really drunk and karaoke’d I’m Too Sexy on the stage, and passed out on my lap right as I tried to say it back to you.”

This is definitely not his favorite story, but it always lights Cas up, and that’s all that matters, really - so he rolls his eyes half-heartedly and Cas smiles wider.

Silence prevails for a moment.

“Look.” Dean ends up being the one to break it. Cas listens, hanging onto each word. “You’re the only one who knows why you can’t do it, okay? My best guess would be an internalized decision to avoid conflict. Maybe you call your old therapist tomorrow - like, I dunno, a cameo from Castiel, unresolved coming-out issues sorta thing. Of course, we can talk about it too. Get six cheeseburgers and twelve beers, and figure things out on your own. But it’s up to you.” Cas exhales into a little smile. “All I know is, it doesn’t matter to anyone that you haven’t told your family, if it doesn’t matter to you. 

Cas nods, a couple of times, and there’s the barest hint of tears again, but this time doesn’t make Dean want to punch God. 

It makes him want to hug Cas, so he goes for it. 

“Even if you were in the closet, Cas? I’d say the same.” Dean adds, as an afterthought, about a minute into a hug which doesn’t seem to be nearing an end. Not really. No one minds, so there’s that. “This community, this month - everything about Pride is about all of us, and if Charlie’s ever called me handmaiden, trust me she’s said this a million times. It means everyone. Includes people in the closet, every bit as those who’re out.”

Cas hums in agreement, and tilts his head against Dean’s.

“In any case,” Dean teases. “Your family’s over in Illinois, anyways. Here, where it counts? You’re as out as you can be.”

“I could kiss you in more Wendy’s.” Cas contemplates, because he’s awesome like that.

“What has Burger King ever done to you?”

Dean listens to him considering it with a thoughtful note, and mutters a “Dork.” It helps keep him grounded for he feels like he’s floating right now - ‘cause there’s something about the way Cas holds onto him. Tighter.

Like somehow, even after all this time, they managed to fall a little more in love today. 

And somehow, they’ll keep doing it forever.

[elduwrites]

Reminders That I Love You - Chapter 3

“Don’t be a brat.” Cas tugged his hair again. It was harder this time and lasted until a small moan escaped Dean’s lips. Then the contact was gone. Damn. He usually had more control than that. But they had been very busy, and angry with each other, lately. This was a welcome change of pace.

“Anyway, I believe in you.” Cas grinned. “Now be quiet, I need to concentrate on my work.”    

Also available on AO3

Word count: 4916 (story total: 7603)

Chapter 3/3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 

When Cas returned, Dean laid naked in the middle of the bed, legs spread and hands beneath his head. He grinned up at his boyfriend who stopped in the doorway for a while, just starring at him.

“See something you like?” Dean asked, letting his tongue dart over his bottom lip for good measure.

“Yes, you’re very beautiful Dean,” Cas replied matter-of-factly. Then he walked closer, keeping his eyes plastered to the man on the bed the entire time. “And you’re being very good for me.”    

“Not like you asked me to do anything complicated.” Dean looked away, lightly biting his lip. He wanted to be good, especially after the evening they had, but he had to earn it.

“The complexity of the task does not dictate how pleased I am when you succeed,” Cas said sternly as he sat down on the bed, leaning over the other man. “Some days I want you to prove just how good you can be for me. Today is not about that. For now, I want to remind you how wonderful you always are to me Dean. Even when you don’t see your own worth.”  

“What if I want, or need, to prove that I can be good for you?” His voice was small even to his own ears, but it needed to be said.

“Then that’s for another day.”

“But-”

“No,” Cas said firmly. “On Saturday I will have you collared on your knees with my cock in your mouth while I research my next paper, but I have a different plan for tonight. Are you going to be a brat and question my decisions, or will you be still and obedient like my good boy ought to?”

Dean swallowed hard, but kept his lips closed. Saturday could not come soon enough. But Cas knew what he needed, and what he could take. If he said that this wasn’t the day for proper play, then he was right. Of course he was. Dean looked up, meeting the others gaze and held it until his boyfriend smiled.

“Good,” Cas said. He ran one hand through Dean’s hair, tugging slightly before letting go. Dean leaned into the touch, whimpering slightly as it disappeared. “Remember these?” Cas pulled a bunch of pens out of his pocket. Except, these weren’t normal pens. They were the temporary tattoo markers they had bought for when Claire was desperate to draw on them. Cas had insisted that they were better for their skin than regular pens, and their niece was overjoyed with the vibrant colors that were much easier to cover their arms with.

“I remember,” Dean replied. How could he not? The guys at work always commented on his wonderful new tattoos whenever Claire had spent an artistic weekend at their place. They were rather hard to wash off too. Not that he really minded that part, it was usually a nice reminder of a good family weekend.

“I presumed you would. Now you’re going to lay back, relax, and stay as still as possible, while I cover your skin in all the reasons I love you.”

“Kinda hard both to relax and stay still,” Dean said. Mostly just to say something back to that declaration.

“Don’t be a brat.” Cas tugged his hair again. It was harder this time and lasted until a small moan escaped Dean’s lips. Then the contact was gone. Damn. He usually had more control than that. But they had been very busy, and angry with each other, lately. This was a welcome change of pace.

“Anyway, I believe in you.” Cas grinned. “Now be quiet, I need to concentrate on my work.”    

Dean took a few deep breaths, relaxing into the mattress as well as he could. Meanwhile, his boyfriend’s big hands ran down his chest, barely grazing his nipples, down his stomach and up his sides. He whimpered again, pushing up into the touch. Why had he denied himself this closeness for so long? Those hands on him were better than almost any sensations. Perhaps except for those fingers in him.

“So beautiful,” Cas said, leaving a small kiss slightly under his left nipple. It was followed by the familiar sensation of the marker on Dean’s skin. Familiar, but still different than when their niece was ‘making him pretty’ as she liked to call it. Cas’ hand seemed surer and less hesitant than Claire often was. And the skin of his sides and stomach was more sensitive than his arms and calves, which were usually the body parts decorated. As the pen stopped its motion, Dean looked down his body. Sure enough, the word beautiful was written in red over one of his ribs.

“Incredibly kind.” Cas left a kiss under the first word, then wrote with a new pen over that same spot. Soon the word kind shone out in orange letters.

“You’re so good with Claire, Madison and little Bobby. The best uncle and godfather anyone could wish for.” Another scribble over his skin. Dean focused on keeping his breathing even so as not to disrupt the others work. When he looked down again, amazing uncle, was written in bright yellow.

Another kiss, halfway down his side, then. “You’re so open and accepting of everyone who need it. I’ve never seen you judge anyone for anything other than being hateful assholes. And those people always deserve it.” The pen moved over his skin once more. As it stopped, Cas moved his hand to squeeze his hip lightly. Dean squinted at the newest word. It looked like it said accepting in deep green letters.

“Dude, are you making my stomach into a fucking rainbow?” Dean asked incredulously, while his boyfriend put down the green marker in favor of a blue one.

“Why are you surprised by this? I make everything into rainbows.” That much was true. After years of hiding his sexuality from overly religious parents, Cas had put all that repressed energy into buying and creating rainbow colored-everything. There were at least seven different flags, and far too many t-shirts. They had rainbow-colored throw pillows in many different designs, and a shower curtain decorated with a tree with rainbow leaves. There were rainbow coasters, cups, water bottles, and at least fifty different buttons and stickers. Everything Cas painted these days were either rainbow inspired, bees, flowers, or, somehow, all of the above. Dean had barely kept him from hanging up rainbow curtains in their living room. That shit was just tacky, and therefore banished to Cas’ office. The office that contained a stuffed rainbow unicorn next to the stuffed bee on top of the bookshelf. Not to mention the queer section of that bookshelf that had the books sorted by rainbow colors. So okay, this was not actually surprising. Still though…

“Don’t mean you have to make me into one.”

“Why does it bother you more that I’m writing in color that that I’m doing it in the first place? You seem to have your priorities mixed up sweetheart.”

“I dunno… It’s just real obvious is all.” That was a bad excuse. He was aware of that. It just felt different in all these colors than it would have otherwise. Even so, his boyfriend was right. It didn’t actually matter. So why’d it feel like a big deal?

“It’s not like anyone else is going to see you this way. Right Dean?”

“Of course not.” It was far too cold for him to go shirtless anywhere other than inside their house. And even during summer, he preferred to wear at least a t-shirt. Only Cas got to see him shirtless for long periods of time.

“Then why does it matter? I like you like this.”

“I dunno.” Dean looked away, biting lightly at his lip. It was hard to argue his point when he didn’t actually have any reasoning, and Cas was all cold logic. The rainbow thing wasn’t a problem either. Not really. He was just caught off guard was all. But there was no way he could admit that now.

“Do you know what I think?” Cas moved so his knees where on the other side of the other’s hips, rested his hands next to Dean’s head, and leant down so their faces were mere inches apart. “I think you’re trying to rile me up. I think you’re being difficult on purpose. This,” he ran his right hand down Dean’s side, stroking over the words, “doesn’t actually bother you. You’re just clinging to the only argument you could find because affectionate words make you uncomfortable. Perhaps you’re even angling for a punishment?”

Dean whimpered lightly at that. Trust his boyfriend to psychoanalyze him in a situation like this. As if they didn’t have better things to do than trying to get to the bottom of his issues. His fear of intimacy as both Cas and Charlie was so fond of calling it. This was not the time.

“Is that it Dean? Are you trying to make me be rough with you because that’s easier to deal with? Would you rather have me spank you till you’re a writhing mess or perhaps slap you hard enough that you’ll feel it for days?”

“Please.” He wasn’t sure what he was asking for, but his boyfriend seemed to have enough ideas of his own. As long as Cas gave him something.

“Too bad really, that I already told you we’re not doing that tonight.”

“Cas. Please.”

“I’m not changing my plans just because you’re being a brat,” Cas almost growled. “However, I can’t let that kind of behavior go completely unchecked either.”

“Please.” Dean repeated. By now it could be called pleading, almost begging. His boyfriend usually liked that, was more likely to fulfill his wishes when he asked nicely. But it didn’t seem like he was budging this time. His expression was blank, not betraying any of his thoughts. Would whatever he was planning be good or bad? Well, it was always good with Cas, but sometimes that also meant torturous. Then again, that was often the best of all.  

Cas suddenly sat up until he was kneeling over him. Then he ran his hands slowly down the other’s shoulders and chest, stopping to pay extra attention to his nipples. Dean swallowed the groan that wanted to erupt as both his nipples were pinched hard.

“Don’t be quiet on my account,” Cas said, pinching even harder. Then he let go off the left one, only to bend down and bite it. Dean moaned, arching his back into the pleasure-pain sensation.

“There you go. Keep making those pretty sounds for me,” Cas grinned down at him before leaning in to capture his lips in a rough kiss. Dean quickly opened up for him, allowing his boyfriend to dominate his mouth completely. As the kiss broke off, Cas moved so sit next to him on the bed again, one hand resting comfortingly on his stomach. Dean put weight on his elbows, wanting to follow, but one sharp look from the other man made him rest back onto the bed. That earned him a soft smile and a gentle hand playing with his hair.

“Touch yourself for me,” Cas said, giving a significant gaze down to the others cock, then back up to his eyes. Dean starred at him for a moment before he followed the order, slowly jacking himself off. This seemed too simple. Was this evening really all about pleasure? And affection or whatever?

“Faster. Put some effort into it.”

Dean fastened his grip and speed his movement to a pace that would have him desperate in no time.

“Good boy,” Cas murmured into his ear. “Tell me when you’re close.”

Oh. Of course. Dean closed his eyes, jerking himself in all the ways he enjoyed the most. Firm grip. Fast movements. A twist of his wrist on every third or fourth upstroke. Pausing for a moment to run his thumb over the slit, coaxing more pre-cum to ease his movements. He was hurdling steadily towards an orgasm, feeling his boyfriend’s heavy gaze on him the entire time.

“’M close,” he moaned out.

“Stop. Hands on the bed.”

Dean quickly followed the order, breathing hard as he tried to calm down. He whimpered sightly at the receding orgasm. It was so close, but far out of his grasp.

“So good for me,” Cas murmured, then leaned down to kiss his stomach. “I love seeing you like this. So desperate to please.”

Dean smiled, relaxing further into the bed. He was still on edge, desperate for release, but it seemed somehow less important. He was pleasing Cas, and his boyfriend would surely take care of him.

A sudden feeling of a marker over his skin almost made him flinch, but he managed to stay still as not to mess up the other man’s work. Peering down, he saw his boyfriend with a blue marker in hand, obviously continuing where he had left off earlier.

“Cas? What?”

“You didn’t think I was done, did you? I already told you I wasn’t changing my plans. I don’t like leaving my projects half-finished.”

“I guess not.” It certainly had seemed like he’d changed his plans. Dean really should have known better. When Cas first made up his mind, he stuck to it. He peered down at his stomach, seeing desperate to please written under the green accepting.

“Dean. Look at me.” Cas laid a hand on his cheek and starred intently at him as their eyes met. “Indulge me in this. Let me show you affection. You deserve to be loved.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean tried to look away, but the other’s eyes were captivating, holding his gaze steady. “Indulge yourself or whatever.”

“Imprudent boy,” Cas smacked his hip lightly. “I want to worship you, just let yourself enjoy it.” With that he picked up a purple marker, putting the tip of it against the skin right above Dean’s hipbone.

“You deserve to be loved,” Cas repeated while writing what was probably the same words into the other’s skin. Dean barely suppressed a shiver as those words finally washed over him. How many times had Cas told him that by now? And how many more times had he found himself doubting it?

“Now continue touching yourself.”

Dean’s hand moved almost on autopilot, wrapping around his cock and jacking it with sure movements. He kept his eyes open this time, taking in all the emotion in his boyfriend’s eyes. No one could convey emotion through a look quite like Cas. And he was using that ability now to express all the love he insisted that Dean deserved. It was enough to make a guy believe him.

Pleasure built up within him even faster this time around. He jerked off until he was moments away from orgasm before he moaned out that he was close.

“Stop.”

His movement stilled immediately, but he clutched the base of his cock for a few deep breaths before he was calm enough to place his hand back on the bed. Perhaps even closer than Cas would have taken him if the former had been doing the touching.    

“You’re doing remarkably well.” Cas left a kiss to each of his cheeks and the tip of his nose. Dean whimpered in return, struggling to keep himself from pleading for release. He really needed to come. Preferable five minutes ago. Instead, his boyfriend took up the red marker again, and started writing on the right side of his stomach. Dean couldn’t find the energy to read the words anymore, but it was impossible to ignore the several times Cas murmured “good boy” into his skin while he kissed around the new words. In return, Dean let out an undignified sound somewhere between a whimper and a moan. He was being good.

“Yes. Good boy with his pleasing sounds.” Cas smiled down at him, while stroking over his stomach in small circles. “And you are so good to everyone Dean. You care so much. I’m in awe of the love you show to all the people around you. Such a wonderful, caring man.” There were more pen scratches and kisses against Dean’s stomach. This time he simply breathed through it, letting the words and affectionate touches wash over him.

“Not to mention the love you put into your food. Before you, I mostly ate just to sustain myself. Now I do it for pleasure as well. You taught me that through your food, you’re such an amazing cook Dean.” More writing on his skin. More fingers tracing patterns on his stomach. More kisses to his side and chest, followed by a sharp bite to one nipple. He arched into it, chasing the mouth as it moved away. His boyfriend chuckled and pushed him back down with a flat hand on the middle of his stomach.

“Touch yourself again.”

He did. With fast strokes, spurred on by the hands exploring his body. Every time Cas pinched his skin or twisted a nipple, he moaned loudly. All the touches went straight to his dick, and within a couple of minutes he was writhing on the bed, barely able to contain the orgasm.

“’M so close. Please Cas.”

“Stop. Now.”

His movements stopped, but he looked pleadingly up at the other man. “Please Cas. I can’t… I need to come.”

“Patience sweetheart. You can wait. And you will.”

Dean whimpered again, but kept his mouth shut. There was no use arguing with Cas’ decisions. He had made that mistake in a similar position once before. That night he was not allowed to come at all. Taking several deep breaths calmed him enough to remove his hand, and finally look up at his boyfriend once more.

“Good boy. Now, where were we?” Cas looked down at his writing, tracing the words with a gentle finger. At that point, even the small gesture was enough to push Dean towards the edge. He shook with self-restraint, clutching the sheets hard and focusing on his breathing.

“Oh yes,” Cas continued in an even voice. “You, Dean Winchester, is one of the most selfless people I have ever met. You give so much of yourself to others. You say yes to helping out whenever the chance occurs, with no regard for how it will affect you. Every fiber of your being seems determined to change the world for the better. Your selflessness was one of the first things I noticed about you.”

“You’re way too articulate,” Dean half-moaned, earning him another chuckle. Then the pen was back, tracing over his skin. Followed by warm lips, copying the pattern of the letters. Every point of contact sent tingles through his already over-sensitive body, forcing small sounds of out him.

“You keep me grounded and sane. I’ve spent so much of my life with my head in the clouds, not really wanting to partake in the world around me. You changed that by showing me how good reality can be. I want to experience real life with you Dean.”

The statement was followed by more pen scratches, then kisses to his stomach, up his chest, and then peppering his face. Dean whimpered, lifting one hand to clutch at the others arm. A tear found his its way down his cheek, but was soon kissed away. It was all too much.

“Shhhh, just one more thing now,” Cas murmured into his skin. “You are doing so well for me.” Their lips met in a long, soft kiss that swallowed all the sounds coming out of Dean’s throat. Then Cas moved to write a last word on his stomach with slow, steady movement. As the pen disappeared, one hand traced all the words on his torso while his boyfriend left three small kisses to his stomach, chest, and forehead.

“Do you want to know what it says?” Cas asked, his lips curling into a smirk. Dean inclined his head in a way that was meant to be a nod. Apparently it was enough, as his boyfriend continued. “It says excellent cocksucker. The things you do with your mouth are downright sinful.” Dean almost chocked on air at those words, and his lips fell open of their own accord. Cas took the opportunity to push two long fingers into his mouth.

“Suck.” That was a command he didn’t really need. Closing his lips around anything Cas put between them was second nature by now. His boyfriend had a borderline obsession with that part of his body. Not that Dean would ever complain. It fit perfectly with his own love of having his mouth filled. Oral fixation Cas sometimes called it, his voice always filled with awe or deep pleasure. “Now touch yourself.”

He was slower to follow the command this time, more focused on the fingers pushing slowly in and out of his mouth. Even so, his entire body lit up with pleasure as his hand wrapped around his dick. It only took a few pumps before he was back on edge again. Cas was tugging at his hair and moving his fingers steadily faster and harder into his mouth. Dean almost gagged a few times, but forced himself to relax. The pleased expression on his boyfriend’s face was more than worth it. Pleasure built with every jerk of his hand, and every movement of Cas’ fingers. He was hurdling towards an orgasm, and this time it didn’t feel like he could stop. Moaning around the fingers, he tried to say that he was close, but it came out as a garbled mess. Fuck. He was so close, but he didn’t have permission to come. And he didn’t have permission to stop jerking off. Starring up, he tried to convey his desperation, tried to plead with his eyes. It was hard to focus on anything else than delaying his orgasm, the world seeming hazy around him. As such, he didn’t notice Cas’ face coming closer until a dark voice whispered into his ear.

“Come for me Dean.”

Two more jerks of his hand and he did just that. The orgasm tore through him, almost making him black out. His whole body convulsed in pleasure as cum coated his stomach. It was so good. Cas always made it better than he managed by himself. Even when he technically was doing all the work himself. He kept jerking in slow movements, drawing out the orgasm while he slowly came back to himself. Soon he grew oversensitive, but kept up the movement until strong fingers wrapped around his own and dragged his hand away. He sighed in relief and pure exhaustion, blinking up at the man above him.

“Hello Dean,” Cas murmured with a pleased smile. “You did perfectly for me.” Dean blushed at that, looking away. That only earned him slightly annoyed sound from the man above him before his face was peppered with kisses. “One day you will believe my praise.”

“One day yeah. Maybe.”

“You will. I intend to remind you of it as often as necessary until you do.” The statement was followed up with more soft kisses to Dean’s face, and a hand carting through his hair. Sighing contently, he leaned into that touch. This was, possibly, his favorite part. Cas was always so affectionate after sex. All soft touches and endless skin-to-skin contact. And like this, during the afterglow, Dean allowed himself to drown in it. Except, they weren’t both basking in the afterglow. With more effort than he was ready to admit, he lifted a hand up to Cas’ hip, squeezing lightly.

“Want me to get you off too?” He asked with a grin, eyes slowly drifting down the others body.

“Not tonight. I already got all I wanted.” He did this every once in a while. Actually, he did it rather often. As if he got more pleasure from getting Dean off than actually having an orgasm of his own. It wasn’t anything Dean could pretend like he understood, but Cas surely knew his own wants best. He was certainly direct enough about shoving his cock down the others throat when he felt like it.

“You’re sure?” Dean met the other’s gaze again, searching for any shred of indecision there.

“Yes Dean. I just wanted to watch you come apart. I might, however, fuck you in the morning.”

“Yeah. Okay. Awesome.” He grinned again, probably looking dopey as hell, as he relaxed back into the bed again. This time determined to stay put. Everything was right with the world again. Well, except for the rapidly drying pool of cum on his stomach, but that was a problem for future-Dean. That guy had energy for all sorts of things.

“I’ll get a washcloth,” Cas said as he stood up from the bed. Because he was freaking perfect. Dean told him as much, causing a fond smile to appear on his boyfriend’s face. Cas’ hand found his, giving one last squeeze as he started to turn away. Pain flared from Dean’s knuckles at the contact, making him flinch. His boyfriend froze at that, starring down at him.

“Dean? What?” Cas dragged his hand close, inspecting the tender area closely. His face turned from confused to worried, eyes scrunching up in familiar fashion. Dean looked at the hand as well. Now that they gave it attention, it was obvious that it was red and slightly swollen. A miracle that it hadn’t been noticed before. “Dean what happened?”

“Umm… I got into a fight with the shower wall.” The last thing he needed was for his boyfriend to blame this on himself. Sure, it happened because Dean was angry about their fight, but that was on him. Neither of them needed Cas to deal with any misplaced guilt over that.

“You got into a fight with the shower wall,” Cas repeated slowly.

“Not my finest moment.”

“Dean,” Cas sighed. “You need to take better care of yourself.”

“I know.”

“You can’t hurt yourself just because we fight.”

“I know.”

“Next time you decided to fight an inanimate object, please make it a verbal match. That one you at least have a chance to win.”

“That’s uncalled for.” Dean tried to scold his face into annoyed, but couldn’t keep a smile from breaking out. Apparently Cas was not in a lecturing, or self-hating, mood. This was going much better than expected.

“You know I’m right.” Cas smiled lightly, then looked more serious again. “Does it hurt?”

“Nothing I can’t handle man.”

“Dean.”

“Yeah. A bit.”

“Okay.” Cas nodded solemnly, then put his hand down and turned towards the door. “Wait here.” With that, he left the room, leaving Dean to study his knuckles. They didn’t look that bad really. He’d damaged them much worse on several occasions, but he’d mostly outgrown that part of his life. That was a teenage and early-to-mid-twenties thing. Which was probably why they looked more painful than they really should, they were no longer hardened by abuse. Or maybe he’d just hit that wall harder than intended. He shook his head lightly and laid the hands back on the bed. It didn’t matter now anyway. With a yawn, he closed his eyes, making himself more comfortable.

He was almost asleep when Cas returned, so he just grunted noncommittedly as a greeting. Sleep seemed more important than anything. Until a bag of freaking ice was dropped on his knuckle. His eyes flew open, and he starred down at the offending item. His boyfriend gave him an amused glance as he placed an ice bag on his other knuckle as well. Okay, they weren’t actually ice bags. When Dean looked closer, he saw they it was frozen peas partly packed into a dish towel. That didn’t change the fact that they felt like big bags of ice.

“Why?” He grunted, giving the pea bags a dirty look.

“Because you refuse to take care of yourself, so someone has to.” He couldn’t exactly argue with that. Instead he sighed, watching as Cas took a warm washcloth to his stomach, wiping off all the dried cum.

“You’re really confusing my senses here.”

“Sorry sweetheart.” Cas gave him a quick kiss to his forehead, before throwing the washcloth towards a corner, turning off the light, and getting into bed. Moving around with the freaking pea bags was complicated, but his boyfriend was efficient as always when cuddling was involved. Soon their legs were tangled, a comforter pulled over them, and Cas had an arm around his waist and head resting between his chest and shoulder.

“I’m glad you came back,” Dean murmured into the darkness, half-hoping the other wouldn’t hear him. Of course, he had no such luck.

“Me too. And Dean?”

He hummed lightly in response.

“I promise to be better at reminding you how much I love you. Maybe even stop walking out every time our fights get too intense. But you have to stop pushing me away.”

“Yeah I…. Fuck, I’m sorry Cas. I’ll do my best.” He took a deep breath, starring into the darkness of the room. “And I love you too. You know that, right?”

“I do. Most of the time.”

“Well I love you all the time,” Dean insisted, then gave his boyfriend an awkwardly placed kiss on his forehead. It seemed like he had to get better at those reminders too. He looked into nothing for several long minutes while Cas’ breathing turned heavy, soon making way for soft snores. Shaking off one of the pea bags, Dean circled an arm around his boyfriend, holding him close as sleep finally took him as well.

[i-make-fun-of-spn-characters]

Castiel doesn’t have a real birthday

However I don’t feel this should eliminate him from play

Just because he’s an ancient celestial being

Doesn’t mean he should get off Scott free without a poem beating

Cas calls people abominations

The number of angels and humans he’s murdered could populate nations

Cas says he always comes when called but avoids phone calls for weeks at a time

It’s because of him that Pamela Barnes is blind

He broke Sammy’s wall and made him lose his mind

Leaving Dean to fight off a pack of gorilla wolves wasn’t too kind

He stole the colt and ran off to kill Kelly Kline

Disappeared with the angel tablet leaving the Winchesters in a bind

Doesn’t know how to use toothpaste

Hated when human having to expel fluid waste

1000s of years old but still so naive

Landed by Dean naked and covered in bees

Tries to protect the ones he loves but often does it through hurtful lying

Making the angels fall is the reason he’s no longer flying

His brethren are pretty mean to him but I’ve got to say

They probably still have nightmares about his genocidal/cannibalistic days

He doesn’t understand your references

He doesn’t care about other people’s plan preferences

Castiel let Lucifer out of The Cage

Got horribly cursed by Rowena the mage

He’s an expert in languages can def turn a page

Gets in so much trouble Dean’s anxiety can’t assuage

Annoyed The Empty into letting him go

At reading people he is not a pro

Brought Sam Winchester back without a soul

When he came back from Purgatory he ended up an unwitting mole

Lied about working with Crowley and Lucy

Loves hamburgers, finds the meat quite juicy

Mess with Sam, Dean, or Jack and he’ll fuck you up

Unless he has no powers, then he’s as useless as a pup

Got beaten by petty demons in season 14

The consequences of his actions he doesn’t foresee

He turned Donatello into a vegetable

His sense of timing can be quite impeccable

Cas has made many mistakes but has always tried

To do his best, be the good guy

When Dean is upset with him, Cas brings him pie

For the Winchesters, many times he’s died

Betrayed his family and all he knew for his convictions

Appears in many a lewd fanfiction

So despite his many catastrophic mistakes, I’ll say, Happy Birthday to Cassie

Who once was batty

[castielific]

The list

AO3 Link

Tags: Supernatural, Destiel, Alternate Ending, Canon Compliant (up to 15x10), Human!Castiel, First kiss Summary: 

Once there are no more monsters, the only thing left to fight for is happiness.

Here is my take on our boys’ happy ending. I hope you’ll enjoy it. 

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

"I hate you", Dean grumbles into his elbows. His arms are on the table, his head buried into it as he squeezes his hands over his ears. 

"I think he’s getting better," Sam lies, hiding his grimace just in time so that Dean doesn’t see it when he raises his head to glare at him. 

Dean opens his mouth, but is cut off by a particularly shrill note that makes him feel like someone is drilling right into his tympans. Even Sam can't help but squeeze his fists in pain, crumbling the edge of the book he's trying to read. 

"'This would be good for you, Castiel'," Dean says, imitating Sam. "What about us, Sam? This doesn't feel good for us!"

"It's not so bad," Sam offers miserably. 

Yes it is. It's even worse than bad. Dean flinches in pain at every horrible noise that resounds all around the bunker as Cas continues to play - or more like, tries to play - what Dean thinks is supposed to be 'Twinkle twinkle little star' on his newly acquired violin. 

Truth is, it is all Sam's fault. Dean can't ressent him that much though, because the look on Castiel's face when they went to the music store was worth the torture they've been enduring for the last two days. 

Since God has been defeated, they've all been having a serious case of cabin fever. Heaven and Hell have closed up their doors, angels and demons alike running home with their tails between their legs. Even the common monsters have gone into hiding. Apparently the Winchesters killing God has impressed them enough that they've all decided that they better keep quiet. Of course, they're still there, but smart enough not to do anything that might attract the wrath of the hunters. Apparently, they are exceptionally good at hiding when they want to because the only case the brothers have had in the last six months had been a rogue vampire that went on a rampage. He was still young and out of control. It took three hours to take him down, the whole deal was done in less than a day, even counting the drive. 

In short, hunting has become boring. All they've had to keep them busy have been some random salt and burn, nothing exciting. The rest of the time, they've stayed cooped up in the Bunker and it didn't take long for them to go crazy. Each in their own personal way. 

For his part, Sam has gone a little too far on his healthy lifestyle penchant, to the point that it became borderline unhealthy: Running up to three hours a day and eating nothing but vegetable smoothies. It lasted two months before he realized that all it was doing was giving him diarrhea and making his shins look like basketball. So now he's taken to digitizing and translating every book in their library….which sounds as exciting as getting all your teeth pulled out, if you were to ask Dean, but at least it passes the time. 

Dean's way of coping was on the polar opposite as his brother's: he decided it was as good a time as any to learn to cook better. Dean has always loved cooking and has been having a blast since they found the bunker. For the first time of his life, he has a home and a kitchen of his own. Until now, between the Amara, the Men of Letters, and all that crap with God, he never had time to really enjoy it, limiting himself to the few recipes he already knew: burgers, steak, and breakfast food. With the hunting gig slowing down though, he had all the time in the world to try his hand at more ambitious things like roast, chili, lasagna and way too many pies. 

His personal wake up call  came when he tried to put on clothes one morning and couldn't find any pants that fitted him anymore.They hadn't had a case for three weeks, and he had to admit that he became a little too familiar with sweatpants. When confronted with the terrible truth of his every single one of his jeans being suddenly too small, he had no other choice: he spent the whole day dismantling the dryer to find out why it was shrinking all his clothes. Sam had a blast mocking him and Castiel, with his usual discretion, was quite pointedly avoiding looking at Dean's stomach during that conversation. Dean spent a long time in front of the mirror after that. He regrettably had to admit that his stomach resembled more Father Christmas's belly than David Beckham's abs at this point. He started to follow Sam's health routine the very next day. Or, tried to, at least. It didn't last long before he couldn't take the smoothie torture anymore, and decided that limiting his pie intake to two per week and doing some exercise should be enough. 

Sam and him actually came to an agreement on food after that, and while Dean would never ever drink a kale smoothie again, it actually wasn't so bad to add a little more salad to his plate. 

All in all, it was a difficult time for everyone, but especially for Castiel. 

Castiel used to be an angel with a Godly purpose, a mission grander than anything people could even imagine. Then suddenly Chuck was gone, and the angels were gone too, and he just became a puny human with no real purpose, a soldier of God with no God to serve and no war to fight. Easy to say that he quickly joined Dean in his sweatpants' aficionados club. Except where Dean was happy to indulge in a laziness that he never really had a chance to try out before, Cas soon fell into depression. Even the best pies Dean made seemed tasteless to him after a time. He was lost in a human routine that he could find no pleasure in. It came to a point where he didn't even sleep in his own bed anymore, never leaving the couch except to satisfy the most basic needs. Sadly, on most days, showers didn't seem to be considered as one of those needs. 

Once they had their breakthrough about their own miserable situations, the Winchesters decided to tackle their new mission: helping Cas. 

It was Sam who proposed that they should all write a list of things they always wanted to do, but never had time for. 

They took a trip to the Grand Canyon on the very next day, dragging a reticent Castiel along. Their road trip lasted nearly a month, because they kept getting distracted by new destinations. Sam wanted to see the Harold Washington Library, Dean wanted to go to Baltimore to go to the Dangerously Delicious Pies shop he heard about while searching for new pies recipes, and so on. 

Castiel never asked to see anything, pretending gloomily that he used to be able to go anywhere in a flap of his wings, and therefore had seen everything he ever wanted too. Dean dragged him to an amusement park anyway, because he was pretty sure the angel had never been on a rollercoaster before. Dean regretted that pretty fast when Cas became strangely fond of them, saying that it reminded him of flying. They took so many rides that Dean threw up and Sam's nose bled for nearly one hour after. 

Still, it seemed like a wake up call for Cas. He spent the rest of the drive home lost in his thoughts or scribbling a list on the back of a gas station's receipt. He even asked them to stop in Utah on the way back to see the largest bee hives in the US. They ended up buying so many types of honey that they now have a cupboard full of it in the kitchen. 

They had been back to the bunker for two days when Cas declared he wanted to learn how to play an instrument. They went to a music store, where Castiel tried on every instrument from a harmonica to a full drum set. After the obligatory harps jokes, Dean tries to entice him to buy a guitar, and learn all the best Zep songs. Cas was too polite and knew better than to criticize Dean's taste in music, so he chose the guitar. Dean wasn't oblivious to the way his friend kept lingering in front of a black violin though, so he relented and bought that instead.

He's sorely regretting it now. 

It's still totally Sam's fault though, he was the one to come up with the idea of this stupid list in the first place. 

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

"I've decided what I want," Castiel declares as soon as the movie's credit starts rolling about a month later. 

Sam snorts, waking up from the doze he'd fallen into. He blinks at them, wiping his eyes tiredly. 

"I said no cat, Cas," Dean reminds. Apparently, one of Cas' item on his stupid list is to get a pet.

"I don't want a cat."

"I'm allergic to animal's hair," Dean reminds him, suspicious. Last night Cas declared he wanted a Camel. A freaking camel. 

"Of course, Dean, your health comes first," Cas concedes amicably. "Although, I do wonder if you're not using this as an excuse, and would not have been amenable to adopt a pet anyway, were it not the case."

Dean scratches under his ear. "What? No. Of course, I'd want one. I love animals. Just, no snakes or anything that eats living food. I know you, and you would just end up saving all the mice or something."

"You know, they do make hairless cats and dogs," Sam pipes up, smirking when Dean sends him a side glare. 

"Those are majestic creatures, indeed, Sam, but I much prefer the softness of fur. Don't you Dean?"

"What." What kind of question is that?

"Wouldn't you like it if you could have a pet with a soft fur that didn't make you sneeze and suffer so much?"

"Huh. I guess?"

"Good," Cas concludes with a jut of his chin. "His name is Honey," Cas announces, raising the kilt that was on his lap to reveal a…

"What the hell is that thing?" Dean shouts, jumping to his feet. 

"Honey is a texel guinea pig," Cas says, cuddling the little beast to his chest. The pet starts emitting a little noise in pleasure as Castiel caresses his fur. It has long curly hair. Its head is black with a white spot on the top while the rest of its body is a mismatch of large black, white and orange spots. 

"It looks like a freaking sheep!" Dean exclaims, sending a betrayed look to his brother that is already kneeling next to Cas and petting at the small animal. 

"See, Sam, we do have a guinea pig now," Cas says proudly, making Sam chuckle at what is obviously a private joke between them. 

"We don't have anything! I'm allergic, Cas, remember? My health…," Dean finishes, faking a cough. Sam rolls his eyes while Cas squints at him. 

"I don't think you are, Dean. Honey has been on my lap all night and you haven't shown any signs of allergy. I've looked at you closely to make sure."

"Do you think he likes kale?" Sam asks, taking the little beast on his own lap as he sits on the ground. 

"I think he might, Sam. The internet says guinea pigs need to eat a lot of vegetables. Do you want us to go and try to feed him some?"

"Yes!" Sam declares, squeezing delicately the pet against his chest as he gets up. 

"But-," Dean tries to protest. 

"I bought him a little hammock that he really likes," Cas tells Sam as he gets up too. 

"But I haven't-"

"That's cute! I want to see it!" Sam says eagerly.

"My allergies…," Dean finishes lamely as he watches the two other men leave the room without a look in his direction. He scowls, staring at the beer he's still holding. He sulks for all of thirty seconds before he grumbles. "Dammit, I want to see the tiny hammock too. Guys, wait for me!"

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

"Oh, that's...that's a nice...tree."

"It's supposed to be Sam," Cas says with a pout, looking at his very first painting.

"Yeah no, I mean, behind him? The big woody thing?"

"That's you," Castiel pouts, looking dejected. 

Dean grimaces, inclining his head to try, and identify himself in the glob of paint on the canvas. 

"So you're not Van Gogh," Dean finally declares. "Or Mozart. The important thing is that you wanted to give it a try and you did. If you liked doing it, then that's what matters, no matter the end result," Dean tries to reassure, squeezing his friend's shoulder reassuringly. He learned his lesson when his words about Cas' lack of music skill were not so delicate, and the ex-angel ended up giving him the cold shoulder for a whole week. 

When he looks back at him, Cas has a small smile on his lips and a look so full of...of something, that Dean can feel his cheeks warming a little. Seconds pass and Cas keeps staring until Dean clears his throat, forcing himself to look back at the ugly painting.

"What's next on your list?" 

A hand pulling on his arm makes him turn back toward Castiel. Dean barely has time to react before his friend's lips brush with his. It's so fast and soft that he's left blinking in confusion, wondering if that really happened. 

"This was."

Cas is still smiling, even though Dean recognizes the worried line creased between his brows. The hunter opens his mouth, but doesn't know what to say. To say that he wasn't expecting it would be an understatement. To say that he never thought about it, a lie. To say that he regrets it…

"I liked doing it," Cas declares, nodding his head in satisfaction. "Now I want to ride a horse."

"A- a horse?"

"Unless we can still get a camel?" Cas teases, acting hopeful. He sends Dean a wink - a goddamn wink - before he grabs his painting under one arm and leaves the room. 

"Ride a...Wait. Cas! We're not getting a horse either! Cas!!" 

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

When Dean finds him, Castiel is sitting on the bench Dean made from the trunk of one of the trees they had to cut down to make this space into their garden. The sun hasn't set yet, but the end of september's evenings are already colder. The last flowers of the season are blooming, and the vegetables they planted in the spring are starting to wilt, only a few tomatoes popping red among the green and yellowing stems. 

Cas is bending forward, forearms resting on his legs. His eyes are closed and for a minute, Dean is worried that something happened, that he's sad or sick. He's reassured when he hears the low murmur of Cas' words, see the slight smile at the corner of his lips, the one Cas always gets when he's trying to be funny. 

His friend hasn't heard him approaching yet, so Dean waits, trying not to eavesdrop on a conversation he's not supposed to be a part of. 

Dean takes the time to check on the apple trees he planted instead. They're too young yet, too small to give any fruit, but by next year, maybe...He can't wait to bake a pie with his own apples. He rolls his eyes at the thought, that's so domestic. Yet here he is, planning on planting strawberries and raspberries, checking on the squash that is starting to grow and wondering if it'll be ready by Thanksgiving. 

Vegetables are Sam's thing. Flowers and the small hive they've built are Cas'. Dean is in charge of the fruits. 

They planted their garden over the underground garage, hidden by such a large ply of trees that there is no risk of anyone stumbling upon it by accident. They had to cut down trees, dig out every root, and plow the whole area to prepare the soil. They've spent nearly all spring and a good part of summer working to create that little bit of garden on the Bunker's roof. They've bought so many gardening tools that they're already making plans to build a shed here in the spring. 

It's nice. The bunker is feeling more and more like a home, like a place Dean could feel himself growing old in, maybe. 

They've talked about buying a house, especially Sam, but somehow they can't see themselves leaving anywhere else than in the bunker. It's their legacy, the place they were always meant to be, and they've come to love it despite all the horrors that happened there in the past. 

Maybe it will change someday. Maybe Sam will want to marry someone, to buy a more traditional place with a white picket fence where he can raise kids without fearing that they'll choose a cursed object or weapon laying around as their next toy. Dean has noticed more and more of Eileen's clothes in the laundry, more of her things left behind every time she comes to visit. He hopes it's only a matter of time before he's not surprised to see her at breakfast anymore. 

By the time he's checked on the fruit part of the garden, Cas has stopped praying and is observing him. The sun is setting, painting an orange glow behind him, and for a second it nearly looks like Cas has a hallo. 

"You told Jack about the horse riding lesson?" Dean asks as he straddles the bench to sit next to his friend. He rubs his hands against the cold, blowing into them to try and warm them up a little. 

"Maybe," Cas says with a mocking smile that makes Dean balks. 

"Oh, come on, you promise you wouldn't tell anyone about me falling on my ass!"

Cas chuckles at the memory of Dean's horse throwing him into a giant mud puddle. Dean had cursed for a whole ten minutes as he struggled to stand up but kept falling right back on his ass. It made Cas laugh so much that he'd started crying. That's a thing Cas does now, he laughs. He does it more and more, and Dean is amazed by it, every single time. 

"Technically, I didn't tell anyone anything," Cas argues with a smirk. He's not wrong. They have no idea if Jack can even hear their prayers now that he's taken charge of and close up Heaven. That doesn't stop them from regularly praying to him, especially Cas. 

"You tell Sam and I'll bury your damn guinea pig next to the tomatoes," Dean threatens. 

"No you won't," Cas says with a fond smile. 

"No, I won't," Dean admits, pouting half-heartedly. He's actually come to like the damn beast. Which no one would actually know if Honey didn't start screeching every time Dean comes near it, calling for the treat that he knows Dean will give him. It was supposed to be their little secret but Honey blew their cover more than once. Dean is still pretending he hates the little ball of fluff, on principle, even though no one is fooled anymore. 

"You were right about the horse, I hadn't realized the amount of dejection it actually produces," Cas concedes. "Also, my bottom is sore from the ride," he adds, squirming a little in his seat. 

Dean chokes a little on his saliva at the image that brings to mind. Honestly, even without the innuendo, watching Cas ride a horse, hips rising and bending over the saddle, has done quite a number on Dean's libido. If he hadn't been questioning his sexuality before, he would definitely be now. Good thing he already was. Cas kissing him has been the only thing on his mind for days now. They haven't talked about it, and Cas is acting like it didn't even happen, but Dean has barely slept since then, spending his nights thinking about Cas' lips on his, and how he might possibly maybe want to do that again. 

"Did you kiss Sam too?" he blurts out. It's not the most subtle or delicate way to bring up the subject, but apparently that's what his brain has chosen to say. Damn you, brain! 

"Why would I kiss Sam?" Cas asks, looking genuinely astounded by the question. 

"Wasn't that on your list?" Dean asks, scratching the back of his neck. 

Cas squints at him like he's the most idiotic thing he's ever seen and, well, Dean probably is. 

Dean squirms under the stare, rubbing his hands again, as much against the cold as in nervousness. The ex angel gives a long suffering sigh before he grabs Dean's wrists. He pulls on his hands until they're under his own sweater. Dean is so startled that he just looks at the bulge his hands are making over Cas' stomach with wide eyes, not daring to move his fingers. They're nestled between Cas' tee-shirt and his abdominal muscles. It's so warm under there that his skin is tingling from the temperature difference. 

"You're an idiot, Dean Winchester," Cas declares. Dean looks up, and Cas is looking at him so fondly that it makes him blush a little. 

"Yeah," he sighs. "I know."

"I must be one too, because I would very much like you to be my idiot for as long as you would have me," Cas confesses, a little shy as he draws patterns on the shape of Dean's fingers over the tissue of his sweater. 

"I'm not sure, Cas," Dean says, making the other man tense up. "Are you sure you want to be stuck with me forever?"

It takes a minute for Cas to get his meaning, brow furrows intensely before they relax in realization. 

"That was my plan all along," Cas says, his smile so wide it's showing his gums. 

And yeah, knowing Cas, it probably was. Cas would have stayed by Dean's side forever whether he was an angel or a human or even a God. Hell, Cas was ready to stay by his side when Dean was turning into a monster bearing the mark of Cain, and when he was a demon. He wanted to stay by Dean's side even when Dean was cruel and screaming at him to go. It was the irony of it all, wasn't it? It always felt like Cas was leaving him, running away for angel business or whatever, but Dean never ever doubted that he would come back. He always knew Cas would come back somehow. After all, even death could never keep Cas away for long. 

Dean slides his hands a little higher, making Cas shiver as they travel over his torso under his shirt. Dean's fingers tightens around the cloth, and pulls Cas closer, close enough that their noses are nearly touching. 

"And now it's mine too," Dean sworns,resting his forehead against the other man's. He cradles Cas' jaw, passing a thumb under one of his eyes. The stubborn angel refuses to close them, even though they're so close that he's going cross eyed. Still, he keeps looking right into Dean's green orbits and hell, that must mean Dean can't keep his eyes off Cas either

When they kiss, it's sappy and tender and sweet and everything Dean always thought he could never have. The relief he feels makes Dean wonders if it isn't everything he's been waiting for all along, without even realizing it. 

Cas is right by his side, as always, and Dean is damn well going to keep him as close as he can for as long as he possibly can. And hey, he knows the guy ruling Heaven now, so that might just be forever. 

The End. 

[one-more-offbeat-anthem]

folktober day 17: spider

So Cas starts talking to all the creatures in his new garden on the bunker’s roof--the snakes, the bees (of course), the frogs, the spiders, the wayward little rabbits...all of them. 

He tells Dean that, even though his grace is waning, he can still read their body language and he knows that they understand him. It’s cute, but it also freaks Dean the fuck out, especially when, one day, Cas walks into the bunker kitchen with an enormous spider meandering down his shoulder.

“Shit, Cas!” Dean grabs a wooden spoon from a drawer, “That thing could be poisonous!”

“But she’s not.” Cas’s voice is as cool as anything, “She told me so.”

“She?” It had never occurred to Dean that spiders could have genders (although, he did refer to his car as a she, but...Baby was different than a goddamn spider in his kitchen). 

“Yeah,” Cas reaches out a finger, petting the damn thing, “She asked how my day was, and I told her there were some spiders in our room--she wanted to meet them and ask them to come outside.”

Dean feels a stutter in his chest when Cas refers to it as “their” bedroom (this whole being-with-a-sort-of-former-wavelength-of-celestial-intent thing was still kinda new), but then he rearranges his features into a scowl, “No way are you bringing that-her into our room.”

“It’ll only be for a moment.” Cas’s eyes widen as he speaks, and Dean knows before Cas has even finished his sentence that he’s going to relent.

“Fine, go ahead,” Dean waves the spoon in the direction of the hallway, “Knock yourself out--but then take her back outside.”

About five minutes later, Cas emerges from the hall with the same spider, and three more smaller ones. “They’re going outside,” he says to Dean, as if that was an explanation, and Dean briefly wonders if there’s a fairytale that could be spun to involve serenading eight-legged creatures (he can almost hear Cas’s voice saying, Arachnids, Dean, they’re called arachnids). 

Later that night, as they’re curled up like joined-together commas in Dean’s--no, their bed, and Cas is starting to drift off, Dean mutters, “Cas?”

“Mmm-hmm?”

“About the spiders...”

Cas’s eyes open lazily, “Would you rather I not bring any more inside?”

“That would be preferable, yeah.”

“Right,” Cas’s eyes slide shut again and he snuggles closer to Dean, mumbling into his collarbone, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

(Dean has a feeling that Cas is going to “forget” about this conversation and bring more spiders inside. And Dean knows he’s gonna be powerless to stop him.)

[shadowywerewolfqueen]

Ladies

Suptober Day 13: Ladies

Dean was standing in front of his floor length mirror, a shirt held in each hand. He kept bringing each shirt in front of him and stared at himself, trying to figure out which shirt he should wear for his date tonight.

“You should wear the green one, it brings out your eyes,” Sam said from behind him.

Dean dropped the gray shirt to the ground in surprise. He scooped it off the floor before turning around to look at his brother with a glare. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

Sam pushed away from the doorway and walked further into the room. “Sorry. Are you actually nervous about this date?”

Dean huffed and threw the gray shirt on the bed. “Well, yeah! You said you had the perfect date for me!”

Sam grinned. “Oh, I do! Not to mention, it will be a double date with my friend, Cas. He’s totally chill, a little dorky but a really nice guy. I really think both of you are gonna like what I planned for you guys.”

“I’m just looking forward to meeting Charlie,” Dean said, grabbing his jeans off the bed and walking into the bathroom. He walked out a few minutes later, dressed in a pair of black washed out jeans and a green long sleeved dress shirt. He ran his hands through his hair, spiking it a little bit before spraying a few puffs of cologne. He slipped into his loafers and then looked at Sam expectantly.

His little brother nodded. “Looking good! Charlie is gonna love you!”

Dean grinned jauntily. “That’s what I’m hoping for. So, I’m meeting Charlie, Cas, and Morgan all at Luigi’s, correct?”

“Yep and you better get going or you’re gonna be late,” Sam said.

Dean grabbed his car keys and wallet off his bedside table. “Alright, I’m going! You’re the best little brother ever!”

Dean hurried to his car, Sam’s voice echoing behind him. “Good luck and have fun!”

Dean smiled when his beloved Impala came into sight. He rubbed his hand along her side lovingly as he slipped inside. He turned the key and the engine roared to life. He pulled out the garage and headed to Luigi’s, the best Italian restaurant in town.

As he drove, Dean thought about his date. He had never told Sam that he was gay, but somehow his little brother had figured it out. He wasn’t scared to tell Sam, he knew his brother wouldn’t care, the timing had just never been right. When Sam had told him about the double date, he had been nervous at first. According to Sam, Charlie had short red hair, green eyes, was a book nerd, and was going to school to become a computer engineer. Charlie didn’t sound like Dean’s idea kind of date but decided to give the guy a chance at Sam’s insisting.

He pulled into the restaurant parking lot fifteen minutes later and headed to the entrance. Sam had described Cas and Morgan as well, so he had an idea of the people he was looking for. He spotted a group of three sitting on benches and headed towards them. There was a guy that fit Cas’ description to a T: raven black hair, ocean blue eyes, strong chin with stubble, trim waist, thick thighs, and wearing a trench coat. He was honestly the most gorgeous guy Dean had ever seen and he felt his cock jerk in his jeans.

As he got closer, his smile fell. The two people next to Cas were not what Dean was expecting. There weren’t two guys sitting next to Cas, one with red hair and green eyes and the other with dark blonde hair and brown eyes. Instead, two ladies were sitting next to Cas who matched the descriptions Sam had given Dean. 

Three heads snapped up at Dean’s approaching footsteps. He forced a smile back on his face as he stepped in front of them. The redhead stood up and held her hand out. “I’m Charlie! Nice to meet you; Sam has told me a lot about you.”

Dean shook her hand and said, “I’m Dean, nice to meet you too. Sam has told me quite a bit about you.” Dean whispered under his breath, “Although, he left out a few major details.”

“What was that?” Charlie asked.

“Nothing.” Dean turned to the other two people. “You must be Cas and Morgan.”

“Hi Dean,” Morgan said with a small wave of her hand.

Cas got to his feet and held his hand out. “Hello Dean.”

Dean shivered at Cas’ deep voice. It had a low timbre to it that stroked over Dean’s nerves, causing goosebumps to spread across his skin. He desperately wished that Cas was his date rather than Charlie. He shook Cas’ hand and nearly whimpered at how warm the other man’s skin was. “Hi Cas, it’s really nice to meet you! Sam is always talking about his dorky best friend who is going into zoology.”

Cas gave a short laugh. “Yes, well, that is a very accurate description. I’m not the best in social situations, and I have a habit of going on long tangents about bees and their impact on the environment.”

Dean smiled warmly. “He may have mentioned that once or twice.”

“Hello, are we gonna go inside or just stand out here all night?”  Morgan asked.

Cas and Dean broke apart. “Yeah, let’s get this party started,” Dean replied. He held the door open and let the three of them inside before following.

He told the hostess there was a reservation for four under Winchester. “Yes sir, it’s right here. If you’ll please follow me.”

They followed her to a booth where she set the menus down, told them their waiter would be with them soon, and walked away. Cas and Dean slid in first on opposite sides even though Dean wanted nothing more than to be pressed up against the other man’s lithe frame. Charlie slid in next to Dean and Morgan sat next to Cas. 

Their waiter appeared, took their drink orders, and then went to go get their drinks.

“So, what’s everybody getting?” Dean asked.

Morgan set the menu down and replied, “I’m getting what I always get. Caprese salad and eggplant lasagna. I’m vegetarian.”

Dean barely kept the frown off his face. Thank God, Sam hadn’t set him up with Morgan. There was no way a meat man such as himself could date a vegetarian. “I hope you don’t mind me ordering the meat lover’s lasagna then,” he said.

Morgan shook her head. “Everybody has their preferences. Meat is not mine.”

“Well, I’m with Dean. Their meat lover’s lasagna is the best item on the menu along with their Tiramisu Icebox Pie,” Cas said with a grin.

“Cas, you’re a man after my own heart. Meat and pie are the two main staples of my diet,” Dean exclaimed. “I don’t normally go to fancy places like this. I would prefer a beer, a burger, and a slice of pie over this any day.”

Cas nodded. “So would I. I tried to get Sam to let us meet at the Roadhouse, but he said it wasn’t fancy enough for a double date.”

“He better not let Ellen hear him say that,” Dean replied.

“You know Ellen?”

“Yep. She’s married to our Uncle Bobby. We practically grew up at the Roadhouse. Her barbeque bacon burger was my idea. It’s become one of her best sellers,” Dean said proudly.

“No way, that’s one of my favorites! Her apple pie is the best thing I've ever put in my mouth,” Cas said with a dreamlike sigh.

“Does anybody care what I’m having for dinner,” Charlie cut in.

Dean finally looked away from Cas. “Oh, yeah sure. What are you having?”

Charlie made a “humph” sound before saying, “I’m gonna do the spaghetti. I’m not a vegetarian like Morgan but I do try and limit my meat intake.”

Dean tried to cover his groan by taking a sip of his coke that the waiter had brought a few minutes ago. He was going to strangle his little brother. Even if Dean was into chicks, Charlie would not be it for him.

“That’s cool. The spaghetti is really good,” Dean said.

The waiter returned, took their orders, and left them alone once more.

“So, do any of you guys already know each other?” Dean asked.

Cas shook his head. “No, I don’t. I don’t have many friends in general. Like I said, social interaction isn’t my thing.”

“How did Sam convince you to go on a double date then?” Dean inquired.

Cas glanced at Morgan from the side of his eye before looking back at Dean. “He told me he had picked out a date for me who might be my perfect match.” From the way he spoke, Cas was thinking the same thing about Sam that Dean was.

“Yeah, he told me the same thing. Fancy dates like this aren’t really my thing. I’d prefer to go to the movies or a walk on the beach or in the park. But he begged me until I finally agreed,” Dean explained.

Cas grinned. “That sounds much better to me as well. Obviously, I enjoy going to the zoo or an aquarium or even a museum. Somewhere I can be more relaxed. Fancy places like this have such high expectations from its patrons.”

“I totally agree. I’ve only worn this shirt like twice. My normal getup is jeans, boots, a t-shirt, and a plaid overshirt. I’m glad being a mechanic lets me dress like that. I couldn’t imagine having a job where I had to dress up every single day,” Dean replied with a large smile.

“While zookeeping requires a uniform, it’s all khakis which is quite comfortable. I agree that wearing a suit and tie all day would be annoying.” Cas looked down at the blue suit, white dress shirt, and blue tie he was wearing. “I only own this one suit and it usually hangs in the back of my closet. I’d rather be in my trench coat, jeans, t-shirts, and Converse.”

“If the two of you hate going to fancy places and dressing up so much, then maybe you shouldn’t have come in the first place,” Morgan snapped. She herself was dressed in a knee length light pink chiffon dress.

“I’m not super fond of dressing up either,” Charlie piped up. She was wearing a purple blouse and gray dress pants. “I’m with the guys on the jeans and t-shirts.”

Morgan rolled her eyes. “You’re all a bunch of uncultured swine.”

“Cupcake, be nice. Not everybody likes to dress up like you do. Leave the guys alone,” Charlie chided.

“You two know each other?” Castiel asked.

“We would have told you, but you two started talking to one another again,” Charlie said a little crossly. “Morgan and I have known each other for years. We went to high school together. I call her cupcake because that’s her favorite dessert.”

Cas nodded. “Ah. So, how did you two meet Sam?”

“Same as you I’m sure. We had a gen ed class together. I met him when we took Intro to Philosophy together. Morgan met him in Human Sexuality,” Charlie explained.

The waiter reappeared with their food. He passed it all out, refilled their drinks, and left them to their meal.

“Dean, you said you were a mechanic. What is that like? I’ve always admired a man who works with their hands,” Cas said with a sly smirk.

Dean blushed at the obvious flirtation. “It’s great Cas! I got hooked when I had to rebuild my Chevy Impala that my dad wrapped around a tree. I got my license and have been working for my uncle for years now. Once he retires, he’s leaving the business to me. Working on cars is like a giant brain game. You have to figure out what pieces aren’t working and then replace them. Sometimes, the problems are obvious and other times, it’ll take me hours before I figure out what’s wrong. Getting to be outside and blast my rock music while I work is a plus.”

“Oh, I love rock music. My favorite band has to be Queen but my favorite song ever is Stairway to Heaven,” Cas said before taking a bite of his lasagna.

“Dude, Queen and Zep are awesome! ACDC is probably my favorite but Simple Man and Hey Jude are my favorite songs. My mom used to sing Hey Jude to me every night before bed,” Dean said with a fond smile.

“That’s very sweet Dean. Sam has never really talked about your parents much,” Cas said.

Dean dropped his gaze. “That’s because they’re both dead. Mom died in a freak house fire and dad died when he totaled the Impala. My mom I miss a lot, but my dad became a mean ole drunk so I don’t miss him as much. I know that’s bad to say, but it’s the truth.”

Cas reached over and rested his hand atop Dean’s. “I’m so sorry Dean. My parents aren’t dead, but we haven’t spoken in many years. They didn’t approve of me being… of my sexuality. If it wasn’t for my brother, I’m not sure where I’d be.”

Dean turned his hand so their palms slid against each other. “That’s awful Cas. I’m sure my old man wouldn’t have approved of… my sexuality either. Sam was what kept me going all these years.”

“I’m gonna head to the bathroom,” Morgan announced after finishing the last of her dinner.

“I’ll go with you,” Charlie nearly shouted.

Dean and Cas barely paid them any attention. Their hands were still touching and their eyes were locked with one another. They wore matching smiles as they stared softly at each other.

“Uh Cas, I need to tell you something,” Dean said.

“Go ahead,” the other man encouraged.

“When I said my dad wouldn’t approve of my sexuality, I’m sure you assumed I was bisexual or something else since Sam set me up with Charlie. The truth is, though, I’m not really into the ladies. I’m gay. I’ve never told Sam, not because I was scared but because there was never the right time. When he talked about setting me up with the perfect date, I thought he had figured it out. I can’t tell you how disappointed I was when I saw Charlie was a girl,” Dean explained.

Cas smiled brightly and brought his other hand up to rest on Dean’s. “I wasn’t happy when I saw Morgan. When Sam said Morgan, I assumed it was a guy. Now that I think about it, he never actually used pronouns to indicate her gender either way. I guess he doesn’t know me very well either since I’m also not into the ladies. I’m gay as well. I’ll be honest, the only person I’ve had eyes for all night is you.” Cas dropped his gaze as a blush spread across his cheeks. He whispered, “I may have had to talk my dick down like half a dozen times already.”

Dean squeezed Cas’ hand. “Dude, the moment I saw you in the parking lot, I felt my dick perking up. I’ve thought about Sam in a bikini more times than I’d care to admit tonight.”

Cas chuckled. “Would you be terribly upset if we told the ladies the truth and then got out of here? Maybe we could go for a walk along the boardwalk?”

“I’d love that, Cas,” Dean replied, his eyes sparkling merrily.

Just then, Charlie and Morgan showed back up. Dean did a double take when he noticed they were holding hands. Charlie looked at them with a grin. “Look boys, Morgan and I talked, and we decided we need to tell you the truth. We aren’t straight or even bi. We’re lesbian and together, for years now.”

Morgan nodded. “Yeah, this whole thing was Sam’s idea. He assumed the two of you were gay and thought you guys would make a great couple. We told him to just set the two of you up directly, but he thought this whole double date idea would be better just in case he was wrong about you being gay. Especially since neither of you ever told him to his face.”

“If he knew, he could have said something,” Dean snapped. 

“So could you,” Charlie retorted.

“Whatever,” Dean grumbled. “Uh, we’re sorry if you didn’t have a good time tonight.”

Morgan waved her hand at him. “Psh, it was entertaining as hell watching the two of you. You’ve had heart eyes for each other the moment you saw one another. You’re like two cute puppies.”

Charlie nodded. “I totally agree! You guys make an adorable couple. Anyways, Sam gave us the money to pay for dinner. We’re gonna get on out of here and let you two enjoy the rest of your night together. Maybe we can all hang out at Dean and Sam’s place sometime.”

Charlie dropped more than enough money to pay for dinner on the table as Cas and Dean stood to their feet. They all walked out the restaurant and exchanged hugs before the ladies headed off to a bright yellow Volkswagen Bug. 

Once they were gone, Dean turned to Cas. “I guess Sam was right.”

Cas tilted his head. “How so?”

“Well, he told both of us that he was setting us up with the perfect date. I gotta tell you Cas, you’re my every wet dream come to life,” Dean said as he reached for the other man’s hand.

Cas wrapped his fingers up with Dean’s. “I definitely have a thing for green eyes and freckles. I will enjoy being able to kiss every single one of them someday.”

“That’ll take you quite a while. I have them everywhere and I mean everywhere,” Dean replied with a smirk.

Cas stepped into Dean’s personal space. “I look forward to kissing every single one.”

“Well, I know one you can kiss right now,” Dean said cheekily.

Cas raised a single eyebrow. “That so?”

“Yep, I’ve got one right in the middle of my top lip. You wouldn’t be able to see it in this light, but I promise you it’s there.” Dean looked at Cas with a bright smile on his face.

“Hmm, well then, I guess I better get started,” Cas said before closing the distance between them and sealing his mouth over Dean’s.

[corancoranthemagicalman]

C’s (1/?) Destiel Rec List:

That gets less and less coherent as it goes.

So here is a rec list by order in which I read them and not by preference. They’re like, All Destiel, because that’s how Post-November C rolls:

First on the list is The Courtship of Combat by bendingsignpost 18k

I KNOW it’s not Thee fic by bendingsignpost that everyone is talking about. I know. BUT, I dearly enjoyed it. It’s the first in a series and it’s A/B/O. (I know. I know. Don’t @ me. Or do.) It’s pre-relationship and the characters are definitely themed toward early-Destiel if you catch my drift. Omega!Dean’s hand is being fought over. This wouldn’t matter to Castiel except he totally told Michael that the reason he wouldn’t marry anyone is because he’s head over heels for the Winchester Omega that he doesn’t even have a real recollection of ever meeting. It’s like the perfect balance of a meet-cute and meet-ugly. I just LOVE bendingsignpost’s Castiel voice. It’s such a great characterization.

I’M GONNA SCREAM THE SECOND ON THE LIST IS ANOTHER A/B/O?!? I swear I don’t read that much A/B/O, but this is another exception because it’s Biological Imperatives (Or Not) by tiamatv  29k

Tiamatv is one of my favorite writers. If you’re unfamiliar with their work, I’m gonna rec more of it to you. No worries. THIS lovely piece of work is a Beta/Beta narrative that focuses on how hilarious A/B/O tropes are from an outsider perspective, but doesn’t do it in a way that feels insulting to the classical tropes. It’s just people living their lives where these situations happen not often but enough that they know how to deal with it. Dean and Cas have several first dates trying to figure out what’s happening between the two of them. Castiel is thee love of my life in this piece. And Dean’s headspace makes for a witty narrative.

If you know me at all, you know this next one HAD to be a regency and it’s Of Lords and Letters by MalMuses 14k

Dean is the master of the Winchester estate after his father passes. Unfortunately for the estate (but much to Dean’s pleasure), he can’t run it personally because he’s at war. Not that he likes war all that much, but it’s what he knows. War he knows. Sam is a conniving but well-meaning little brother and puts him in contact with Mister Castiel Shurley. (I KNOW. I KNOW. I allow Castiel Shurley in recent fics only if Chuck is cast as an asshole, and he is :)) But seriously, it’s SO Regency. There’s letters, pining, propriety, and men in period suits. What more could you ask for?

Y’all probably gonna immediately peg who I am as a person when I say Always Together, Eternally Apart by EmiliaOagi 27k is probably one of my top ten Destiel fics.

Here’s the thing—Ladyhawke is probably my second favorite movie in the entire world beat only by The Princess Bride. (Seriously, if y’all wanna bribe me with anything, it will always be that.) NOT ONLY does EmiliaOagi beautifully incorporate the source material, but once more Dean Winchester is SO Dean Winchester it hurts. This piece is from Sam’s perspective, and his running inner monologue is both insightful and entertaining. If you’re unfamiliar with the plot of Ladyhawke, I refuse to spoil it for you. Some things must be experienced, and this is one of them. Either by reading this lovely work or by viewing the original film, you’ll understand the legend that so captivates me.

OH ANOTHER DELICIOUS ONE and it’s like in that vein of Retired Hunters But Not Yet Together Destiel is Welcome to Pine Shores! by andimeantittosting (Saylee) 20k

It’s always fun reading Dean character studies, and this is definitely one of them. So the long and short of it is PINING FOR DAYS (this was written for Pinefest) and Dean trying to set up Cas with other people because he thinks Cas might want more. Oh, and did I mention they’ve been running this motel for like thirteen years? And they share a bed? *Tropes Intensify*

There is also Dean Winchester and the Patron Saint of Blind Dates by goldenraeofsun 18k which I think some of y’all are familiar with.

Sort of what it says on the tin, to be honest, folks. Dean’s friends set him up with some blind dates and the bartender—Castiel—grips his Purple Nurple tight and raises him from perdition. (And no, it’s not a euphemism.) The dates are sort of outrageously in character and interestingly enough this is a Sam/Ruby fic too! I sort of liked how it played out in this piece. If you’re worried about the Sam/Ruby dynamic, fear not! They were both former addicts and have since been clean for (a year or two? I don’t recall the time frame.) Dean has a love/hate sort of relationship with an emphasis on hate with Ruby since she’s the one who got Sam into drugs (allegory for the demon blood) but she’s also the one to try to go clean first. I just thought that was an interesting take, and one I would’ve linked to have seen the show pursue to be honest, but Supernatural has to keep the hot ladies dead or villains or both haha ;)) I digress. It’s a smaller read but the subject matter is pretty heavy. From former religious cults to the former addicts, please keep in mind if mentions of these things make you uncomfortable. It’s definitely the one whose subject matter stuck out the most to me. So apologize if I’ve missed mentioning anything specific for y’all in the previous recs or this one.

WAIT THIS NAME LOOKS FAMILIAR!??! IT’S andimeantittosting (Saylee) BACK AT IT AGAIN BUT THIS TIME WITH The Winchester Affair 34k !!

SAYLEE YOU HAD TO MAKE IT ONTO THIS LIST TWICE. Another Regency, except this time Castiel is long time friends (with benefits *eyebrow wiggles*) with Dean. He’s in love with him, obviously, so this means that an asshole named Zachariah that we all know and loathe comes around planning to frame his poor sister (Hael) with stealing Mary Winchester’s brooch if Castiel doesn’t find some damning evidence on the Winchesters for him. DRAMA AHOY!!! This is a very harlequin/regency novel. It’s actually based off of a novel called Ware the Marquess as is the wont of the Destiel Harlequin Challenge. Very good challenge to check out; very excellent fic to read. And the author so nice we listed them twice. ;) SIDE NOTE: This is totally one of those Regency ones where It Simply Isn’t Done, if you know what I mean. Like, no one is outright slurring or something that I can recall (and it isn’t tagged so I doubt there is), but it Isn’t Done, But They Love Each Other Very Much.

So you guys know Scoobynatural is my comfort episode, right? Well, one of my favorite things that I’ve delightfully discovered is the trope of building off of Cas’ one-liner about being effin’ married, so have The Nikkah by Maxine (WinchesterPooja) 28k!

Reads like a Case-fic as there’s an entire sub-plot happening with Sam. So this story happens well within the canon despite being canon-divergent. This one does end happy!! There’s a view episode like fics I might rec that end in canon-fashion with Dean repression and I love the pining and all but sometimes I need sweet fandom closure. Long and short of it: Djinn culture? Djinn queen? Fake-relationships? Sam dealing with nightmares? This baby can fit SO MUCH ACTION into a fic.

Okay, so you know the fic with the Bee Movie allegory? (It’ll come up on this reclist.) This has the same vibe, except for the relationship is out of order and Dean is Diagnosed with If I Do It This Way It’s Okay. Yeah, it’s Command Me to Be Well by prosopopeya 28k

Human Cas, back from the dead, post-finale, and Dean is trying to figure out how to get his happy ending. I’ve seen this one make the rounds on fic rec’ing so I think it’s a bit familiar, but I enjoyed it. Even though—as my bookmark says—I usually don’t go in for hurt/comforts with heavy on the hurt because my poor heart can’t take it. This is one of my few exceptions. This one has a healthy dose of Castiel standing up for himself with the bittersweet tang of him literally willing to do so much for Dean. But it’s a Dean perspective, so it really deals with a lot of his inner thoughts.

This one is,,,, in a similar vein as Command Me to Be Well. I guess I was in a mood. Baby, Come On Home by woodenducks 9k.

IT’S SEASON NINE WITH A SIDE OF PINE. What more could you ask for angst? Human Cas in Rexford trying to make a life for himself when all he wants is to go home. But he’s also trying to figure out what home even is for him. There’s a lot of drama between Dean and Cas, because of course Dean wants him there. But blah blah angels and blah blah whatever excuse the writers wanted so we couldn’t have human Cas and Dean in the bunker. We KNOW obviously the only thing keeping canon Dean from snapping was the fact that Cas was not human around him. *heavy eyeroll*. Anyways, this is a heartbreaking read from Castiel’s perspective.

One of my favorite Rescue Cas from the Empty fics is (they'll never break) the shape we take by auroralynches (teresavampa) 9k.

There’s this super cool concept of how Castiel experiences his regrets within the Empty and how Dean navigates through them to get to Castiel. I really enjoyed it, and of course the greatest love story ever told has got to have SOME theatrics and sentiments that are definitely reflected in this fic. My point is, I really love when Empty Rescue fics include analyzing Castiel’s regrets, and this one does so but from Dean’s perspective. As in Dean is viewing Castiel’s memories and trying to perceive his regrets.

Sooooo Epistolary by tiamatv 9k eh?

I love love LOVEEEEEE epistolary fics. I love them. I’ll always read them. And I totally told you I loved tiamatv. This is probably another one for the top ten fics just because it plays into my things. Love letters, music, and misunderstandings, oh my!!

HERE’S A VERY SEXY TERRIBLE LIFE ----> Ties that Bind Us by TheTwistedWillow 13k

Okay, so BASICALLY what if It’s A Terrible Life happened in like, circa-season 13 and Castiel was thrown in with Dean Smith and Sam Wesson. Literally all that I wanted in this fic. I do mean it’s sexy, by the way. I can’t even begin to explain this fic beyond it’s Castiel’s perspective, and he has some awareness that something is off. And being inside Castiel’s head when he’s not Castiel gets me every time.

OKAY I KNOW THIS IS THE THIRD A/B/O FIC ON THIS LIST I KNOW I KNOW The Mills School for Distinguished Girls by SillyBlue 13k IS WORTH IT THOUGH?!?!

Alpha Dean Winchester is going off to war. In the meantime, his family still doesn’t know about his marriage to Omega Castiel (in fact, they still think Castiel is a Beta.) Male Omegas are very rare in this universe, and it is addressed along with the fact that just because Castiel might look different on the outside doesn’t make him any different than the girls. Which I thought was a thought-provoking interpretation. There’s prejudices here—a lot of them against women and omegas—and a temporary character death which actually moved me to tears. I bookmarked this saying bring the tissues; bring the tissues.

THE BEE MOVIE FIC THE BEE MOVIE FIC THE BEE MOVI— according to all known laws of life by sobsicles 29k sobsicles I owe you a great slice of pie.

Sobsicles, my beloved, my bestie <3 (am I allowed to say that? I mean it affectionately. Well and truly.) You REALLY got in my head with this one. This is literally such an insane read that I read it twice in a row. Yeah, whoops. Cas is back from the empty and Dean is an asshole about it because feelings are hard. Here is what I bookmarked this fic with: “Dean Winchester has issues. He gets through them. Like a Bull in a China Shop, but he gets through them. The metaphor works.” And that is EXACTLY what happens. Dean is such an asshole and I LOVE IT. 14yr me would cry at the concept of reading this but 14yr me is a tasteless bitch. This is where it’s at. Dean has so much he’s mentally working through and Cas won’t take no shit and Sam is tired. It’s great. I love it. I know we rec sobsicles left and right over here (and I know there’s a new one I haven’t read yet) but this one is really my favorite. And I know some people feel uncertain when fics/authors get popular in a fandom, so if this isn’t for you that’s okay!! But well and truly this is just one of those in the top ten Destiel fics of my heart.

Baby Jack during the Widower Arc truther here like Trial and Tribulations of Raising a Nephilim by Sickandtiredofyou 14k

I’ve seen this one rec’d before but not enough. Like this one SHOULD be talked about. Because I am a Baby Jack Truther, and putting a baby in the widower arc is my literal weakness. Dean goes crib shopping. He paints the nursery. He does that season 2&3 thing he does where he wrecks something so that he has to rebuild it. He’s mourning. He’s crying. Sam is afraid to hold a baby. There’s a lot of emotions and they’re raw. Promise there’s a happy ending, but be ready to cry first.

Another sam pov because i love my little brother Letters to Nowhere by Goodluckdetective (scorpiontales) 28k

AWWW YES. So this is another Empty Rescue fic. This one plays up the Orpheus and Eurydice lore, but in a surprising twist this is Sam’s POV!! Sam doesn’t know the full story, and we as the audience aren’t granted omnipresence for this fic either. It’s just point blank is his emotions. Him worrying for Dean, missing Cas, and wanting a happy ending for all of them. It’s sort of epistolary with how Sam is texting Castiel’s phone, but in general it is Sam Winchester wanting to save both of his brothers. So despite it being Destiel, the Destiel is almost the background ship since this story is Sam’s story and how Sam witnesses their story. It’s pretty meta in that sense, in that he’s aware there’s this grand story going on and we as an audience know there’s this grand love story happening, but we’re reading Sam’s story.

One of those i mentioned where its like an episode and they just end with tension between them >:((( but SO enjoyable and very much like an actual MotW Soul Searching by Lottiethroughthelookingglass 13k

It is in a screenplay format, but I didn’t mind that. It’s definitely a fun read! I thought the characterizations were pretty grand all-in-all. No get together though in this one if you’re looking for Destiel. Sorry. But it does make its way on to the list because we deserved a body swap episode and never got it.

This is like the third fic by tia and im not sorry and it’s Filoplume by tiamatv 8k !!!!

Its SOULMATES BAYBEEEE!!! But it’s not destined Soulmates. It’s like… soul compatibility, but only AFTER you’ve forged the bond. Self-Made Soulmates as it were. Very achingly and lovingly sentimental. Like, I think I’ve read this one four times in one week? It’s the shortest rec on this list (and while I definitely have shorter works bookmarked, I wanted this rec list to be longer ones for some reason I guess) but it feels longer. Maybe because every paragraph is like a gut punch. egGH. It’s another Empty Rescue by-the-by and Dean’s soulmark (given to him by Cas after Castiel’s Despair Confession) helps get him into the Empty.

OHOHOH LEVERAGE AU!!?! The Jericho Job by giantteenwolforgy 20k

The first in a series and I am SO EXCITED FOR MORE. I absolutely adore Leverage, so seeing this was like clearing my skin with care products I’ve never used. The characterizations are amazingly well done and vivid. They feel so unbelievably real and it makes me an eager beaver to get to the meat of them connecting as a team and family, but the slow burn is well worth it.

Yes, yes, Dean needs him, and need = love for Dean’s vocab but what does dEAN WANT and what does want mean to Dean? Find out in if you try sometimes, well you just might find by JenTheSweetie 9k

I’ve always been a huge fan of metas that dissect Dean’s differeniation of need vs want, and this whole work was like one of those metas. It’s a Cas POV of him trying to figure out how to read this man that he knows so well. It pulls out the angst and it makes me ache, but promises there IS a happy ending and Dean WANTS it.

Shush you know you want Goodbye Stranger meets Detroit: Become Human you knOW YOU WANT IT Digital Heartbeat by Chancy_Lurking 14k

MHM IT’S SO GOOD. Talk about good characterization. This work is almost a time piece? There’s a few skips in the timeline but you get the good parts and what’s needed for a full narrative. Castiel is an android sent by Cyberlife to the Men of Letters for aiding in hunting. He’s—of course—assigned to the brothers Winchester.

Shush delicious content right here mwah Heartstring Promenade by SaltyWords (agent4hire22) 17k

Another Empty Rescue?!? Yeah, yeah it is. Dean is sort of reckless. And by that, I mean a lot. But it’s fine. All happy endings, and smutty endings too. ;))

This is one of two 36-questions inspired fics I’ve got bookmarked, but the sex in this one hits my preferences too perfectly so it gets the spot and this list is getting too long to include all of my bookmarks to include both of them anyways but Seek to Know You Better by ahurston 32k mhmmmmmm

This fic is very personal to me. I couldn’t explain even if you asked me to. It might be the Florida Citrus Tree expressionism in Cas’ thoughts, but idk it's such a mystery (the way you know me) by fleeceframe 20k has got it on the list.

Cas loses his memories for a short period of time. Dean and Sam introduce Castiel to Cas, and Dean and Cas have a heart to heart. <3

A vERY interesting premise in a fool's kind of careless by Paclipas 9k

Dean is SUPER off his game when he can’t tell the difference between Cas and Not-Cas over the summer. Canon-fic.

A FIC FROM 2018?!?! WITH TIME TRAVEL??!? Ye ye it is Crazy Diamonds by pantheon_of_discord 24k

Dean of 2018, married to Castiel, swaps places with his newly dragged from Hell 2008 self. Time shenanigans and Bobby Frickin’ Singer ensue.

This one is ONE I AM OBSESSED WITH ACTUALLY And Neither Do You by callsigntango 45k like if it's not the one everyone starts talking about :((( is SO GROSS how callsigntango describes the empty and i lOOOVEEEE ITTTTT. Also plays into a Florida myth I totally forgot about so high-key freaked me out. Hahah.

[choruscas]

suptober day 16: switch it up!

please let me know if you’d like to be added to my tag list! (or removed if you prefer) it tags you in all my short stories like these so you never miss them!

-

During every single hunt, whether it was tulpas in Topeka, or shapeshifters in Sacramento, Dean had always tried to team up with Castiel.

Why?

Well, it was a long and complicated story. But to sum it down, Dean probably had the biggest crush on the damn angel and his feelings haven’t gone away.

Pray the gay away? Nah man. It was pray to the gay. Be bi or die.

In all honesty, Dean was very open about his bisexuality. After it sort of slipped out to Sam and his younger brother had no reaction (and it may or may not have been that his deadbeat dad was gone) and so he didn’t care who knew.

He could stand on a stage, wearing a bi flag on his back, having his dick out for any men or women who wanted a taste, and he wouldn’t give a flipping fuck.

However, he hasn’t had sex in two years. Why? Oh yeah, cause of the crush. Heads over heals crush that no man or woman could take away. He had tried to pretend the kisses and love were the angel, but none if it worked. It wasn’t what he imagined of, dreamed of.

If a djinn got his hands on him again, then who the fuck knows if Dean would stay or not. At least the djinn would give Dean what he wanted.

Often times he got angry at Castiel for not doing anything. But he couldn’t blame him.

Dean would never tell anybody this, but there was often times he cried himself to sleep because of how unfair life was in general. How unfair it was that Dean could never just get what he wanted, what he always craved.

At that moment, he was ticked. Just sitting there as Sam and Castiel rambled on about the hunt that he wasn’t paying attention to. However, that ass sitting on that chair though.

Jesus Christ.

“What about you, Dean?” Sam asked, his arms folded, leaning against the wall.

“Yeah. I mean, this rugaru seems pretty badass.”

“We’re hunting an Ōkami, Dean.” Sam pealed his attention away from Jack, who was bouncing on the bed sitting down.

“That’s what I said.”

Sam opened his mouth to say something but Dean got up from the motel’s table and slammed the chair against the edge of it.

Castiel looked up at him fearfully, as he knew Dean’s angry face. “D—“

“I need a drink. I’ll be back.” Dean snapped and left the motel, almost slamming the door.

God he was so fucking angry. Sam that day had been a little bitch boy and Jack was annoying and Castiel was oblivious to Dean’s obvious flirting and nothing was going his way.

Baby’s engine has sputtered and barely came to life, so he had to fix that before they went back to Kansas. So they were probably all stuck in deadbeat Wyoming for a few extra days.

He had stepped in a puddle and ruined his favorite pair of socks. They had good grip and were fairly new, but the muddy water from the puddle made them unwearable for the time being.

The stupid hunt wasn’t going anywhere. They were lost on just one hint on where the octopus or oak tree, or whatever the fuck it was called was.

He just needed to beat the shut out of something. Or someone. Anything.

He walked a little while away from the motel and found a junkyard that he noticed they had passed by when he was driving yesterday. There were tens or hundreds of old cars that nobody was using anymore. Perfect.

He found a bent crowbar and just as he was about to smash an old, rusted ‘69 Camarillo, a vibration and ringing sound went off in his pocket.

Fuck you, Sam.

“Hello?” Dean sighed, showing irritation in his voice more than he should’ve.

“Hey, so Cas and Jack are going downtown and I’m doing more research.”

“Wait— why did Jack and Cas go?

“I dunno. You weren’t there, so...”

“Yeah but— you know... my rule.”

The rule was a little complicated. Dean paired up with Castiel because ‘one angel and one human are better than two humans and two angels because the angel can protect the human on one team and the same for the second team.’

Which was bullshit. Dean just wanted to see his ass in tight pants and hear his whiskey and leather-like voice interrogate people.

Okay, it’s probably annoying that Dean keeps thinking about his ass. But it was a pretty nice ass. Can’t blame him.

“Alright. Well, sorry.”

“I always go with Cas.”

“I know. I guess I just thought of switching it up this hunt.”

“But you’re ugly as hell.”

“And Cas isn’t?”

Dean could hear his stupid shit-eating grin behind the fucking phone.

Instead of answering to his dumbass comment, Dean had hung up.

In all honesty, the day just wasn’t going his way.

Walking back to the motel, seeing his Baby from a distance, he quickened his pace to grab some things from the trunk.

But as he was walking, a piece of thread on his plaid jacket caught in a nail inside of a telephone pole. Not realizing it to start with, he continued walking, his hands in his pockets, squinting at the sun like he wanted to explode it.

He turned a corner and his plaid jacket had ripped with a loud sound. Beneath his right armpit, there was a giant hole revealing his undershirt.

Great.

He opened the motel door and quickly shut it as fast, then bee-lined straight to his suitcase and shrugged off his plaid shirt.

“Dean, you alright.”

“Hell no!” he barked, probably an octave higher than he normally spoke.

Sam, sitting down with his books and laptop, stood up to walk over to Dean. He didn’t treat him like some rabid animal, but normally.

“You know you can talk about it. I know about your feelings your C—“

“DON’T... finish that.”

“Dean. Please,” he continued. “It’s really hard to love somebody when you don’t think they love you back. But Cas really does. I know he does.”

“How do you know Sam!? Come on. It’s not like you’re an astrologist with some fuckin’ tarot cards or something.” Dean pathetically threw his hands up in the air, causing a loud smacking sound when he put them back down.

“Because he told me he does.”

Hold on.

What?

“You’re kidding.” Dean laughed.

“Dean, I’ve been in between this feud with you and Cas for about twelve years now. Do you really think Cas hasn’t told me? He told me post-purgatory. That’s when you don’t me too.” Sam paused, taking in a breath. “He said he’s so madly in love with you that it hurts, Dean. Hurts.”

It was like all of the sudden the world stopped. Dean’s heart rattled in his ribs and it felt as if vines were growing all around, permeating his lungs in such a way that he couldn’t breathe.

Cas loved him.

Later, Dean finally saw that ass in action.

And he loved him too. They both did.

(tags below)

@potato-painter @samhainsam