He’d been standing in the field for a while now: an hour, maybe two, maybe three. Enough time for the sun to beat down a little too hard on his neck, harsh and unrelenting, telling him to get a move on by leaving his skin a sore red. Later, in the mirror, he’d look at the burn and smile. Cas had always been too vigilant with suncream; it was nice to know that Dean could disappoint him even in death.
Bookmarked by fullofwoe
19 Apr 2021
15 Apr 2021
Freedom is just one adjustment after the next.
Cas hums again. "I think you already have. It's been months since everything settled. All that's left to do is...get used to it, and perhaps—" His voice stalls out, uncharacteristically, and his gaze roams Dean's face with intensity. When he speaks next, his tone is a little raw. "Perhaps what one does with peace is...whatever they want."
"What if I don't even know what that is?" Dean grumbles, arching an eyebrow in challenge. "'Cause I know damn well you don't just mean good food and a good bed and time in Baby, not simple wants like that. You mean—ya know, the big things, the wants we didn't get to have before."
"Yes," Cas agrees. "If you're not sure, figure it out."
"Easier said than done."
Bookmarked by fullofwoe
17 Apr 2021
“Give me the short version,” says Bobby, and Dean looks at Cas, and Cas just shrugs.
“Uh,” says Dean. “I kind of adopted God.”
or: andrew dabb i see your request for the return of fan favourites and i raise you “jack resurrects them all bc he thinks his dads should have more friends”
“What?” Dean says, fake-offended. “I’d be hot as a girl, you know I would.”
And this is when he really, really should have stopped talking. When he shouldn't have whipped back around and asked, “Cas, if I was a woman, you’d fuck me, right?”
Because if he hadn’t said that, then he wouldn’t have had to deal with this:
Cas, meeting his eyes, forehead wrinkles all smoothed out like there’s nothing to be confused about anymore. Cas with something at the corner of his mouth that might barely be called a smile.
Cas saying, calmly and without hesitation, “Yes, Dean.”
Dean Winchester fucks around and, with the inadvertent help of some witches, Finds Out.
At twenty-eight years old, Dean’s standing on the edge of his life, ready to jump into everything he’s ever wanted.
He’s a talented mage with a promotion in his sights and a family who loves him. Great friends, a nice apartment, and a niece he adores—life should be good. Great even.
But it’s not.
There’s this pit in his stomach—an ache in his chest that feels too much like loneliness and not enough like wanting to do anything about it.
So, he gets by.
Until he doesn’t.
Until there’s an accident of cosmic proportions in his classroom, with him right at its centre, that puts him in the hospital and changes everything.
Until he looks in a mirror and blue eyes appear in place of his own.