#bc we know dean hates those since one of them decided to walk around and torture ppl while using his face lmao

[impalakiing]

@auburniivenus | starter call.

" --It's alright, it's alright." Dean was quick to say, hands held up in front of him to show he meant NO HARM. In fact, he'd come here to help. "I'm not gonna hurt you, I'm gonna help you get out of here, okay? You have to trust me." He knew he was nothing but a stranger to the girl & trusting strangers wasn't exactly easy but... She would have to trust him if she wanted to get out of here ALIVE & WELL.

[perhapsthanatos]

10:32 pm with yuta ♡

nct’s yuta x fem!reader (got inspired by a dream of mine & found the idea really cute)

alternate title: be the james dean to my audrey hepburn

genre: fluff. a pinch of angst. non idol au. badboy!yuta au.

word count: 1400~

playlist: chinatown by wild nothing, lover’s rock by tv girl & work this time by king gizzard and the lizard wizard.

warnings: featuring johnny (not a warning though). smoking cigarettes. cursing. lowercase intended. not proofread.

a/n: hi i was supposed to post a vampire!haechan fic but i really wasnt happy w it in general :( the plot or overall idea of the fic was really good, but i just felt as if i didnt do it justice so here we are :( but ngl, i kind of like this concept more? maybe bc i can see it more vividly? idk, i feel like my writings r getting repetitive & its getting on my nerves lmaoo this is getting long im sorry do u guys even read this part anyway? i would also like to apologize abt the amount of projecting im doing lmao ive been having some rough days & i love my sister but hate being compared to her so often so this is a way for me to rant abt it ig? also so sorry its coming out a little later bc i woke up late today (& procrastinated for the rest of it so here i am posting really late at night) & decided to go to the convenience store to get ice cream (& a ton of other bad shit pls dont do this its rlly unhealthy) for breakfast bc i can :) any who, enjoy lovelies <3

“oh my, y/n! you’ve grown up so well! just like your sister!”

“oh! i’m sorry i’ve almost mistaken you for your sister! y/n is your name, correct?”

“y/n, darling, you are looking so dashing! you really do resemble your sister, don’t you?”

“ah, you must be y/n! i’ve heard all about you and your sister from your father!”

you swear that your reddening cheeks are threatening to fall off any moment now from all the fake smiling. the hundreds of superficial compliments, the insincere flattery and the need for these people to constantly compare you to your godforsaken sister makes you feel even weaker than you are. it gets harder and harder to keep up with a big persona that isn’t at all you. as lucky as you are to live such a lavish lifestyle, you can’t help but hate how your family has to be so perfect. you hate how you have never fit in with them, even if you are so good at faking it. you hate how you have always been stuck in your sister’s shadow, constantly haunted with the reminder that you yourself aren’t good enough. you hate how you now have to entertain the rich and brainless guests at your parent’s gala because she’s gone for some stupid prodigy competition and everyone is only talking about her in front of your face. so what if she’s better the better sister? you still have the right to earn respect, right?

you’re exhausted from all the small talk. your facade gets more brittle by the second under all the pressure. your body feels as if it's gonna give out due to your brain shutting down after all that interacting. you try to keep on going with the night as it unravels itself by being the perfectly poised poster child, trying to make your parents proud. but alive yet almost completely devoid, you decide enough was enough. what if you left right now? no one would notice, would they?

after pulling up your phone discreetly to send a few text messages, you pass through lots of people dressed in gold and finery in a way that wouldn’t have you noticed right away. keep your head down and don’t you dare make eye contact with anyone. nearing the end of the room, grabbing the first glass of whatever alcohol you see and downing it in one gulp, you start walking away as quickly as possible from the ballroom. “ignorant privileged fucks,” you angrily whisper to no one in particular, setting the now empty glass on whatever surface and begin to head to the main exit where no one could spot you running away.

“and what do you think you’re doing here, miss?”

a voice interrupts you, looking up you see that it is your father’s head butler; johnny. he is dressed in a simple black suit that makes him appear taller than he is. his long brown hair is slicked back and his bowtie seems brand new. you have known the man since he started working in your household less than ten years back. you were a reckless child, often trying to find ways to sneak out, finding a way to escape from this life and he sympathized with you. after all, he could barely imagine living your life, never catching a break for yourself and always pretending to be someone you weren’t. he often helped planning when you would sneak out into the night, scheduling things like what time you should leave and what time you should be back, more specifically a time when no one would notice. he would take care of your form of transportation and have your location on at all times, just to be extra safe. as much as he wants you to have fun and have a bit of freedom, he still worries that something might happen to you. because of all this, you two have grown to have a very strong bond. you could confidently say that he is most definitely a parental figure in your life since your parents (and even your sister) are often overseas for work.

“what do you think i’m doing? you think i wanna be in a room with those half-baked bipeds? fuck no!”

“i know, i was just joking. you looked like you were about to explode in there, i wish i could help.” he laughs, pulling out his phone preparing what you might need. “so what will it be for today? the driver? we just need to pay him to keep his mouth shut. a taxi? it’s cheaper than paying the driver, but you still need to pay… not like that’s a problem for you though. maybe an uber would be good enough—“

“actually, i got myself covered. thanks.”

his jaw slightly drops and his eyebrows furrow. he looks straight at you in shock. “what do you mean you got yourself covered?”

you look down at your feet, a nervous habit. “i got myself a ride, you don’t need to help me. i’ll be back as soon as dawn comes.”

he raises his eyebrow. “who’s your ride?”

“doesn’t matter,” you glance down at your phone seeing a notification and wave a goodbye, leaving rather suddenly. “i gotta go, i’ll text you when you need to open the gates!”

“y/n! wait! who’s your ride— and she’s gone.” johnny sighs, watching as you run towards the front gates, tossing your stiletto heels away on the grass while you’re at it. he heads back inside, silently hoping you’ll be fine.

knocking the window of the old black mustang parked outside behind the big bushes, the driver rolls down his window and sends the most charming smile.

yuta in his black beanie, long blonde hair, worn out doc martens, signature leather jacket and black skinny jeans. it almost makes you laugh on how he wears the same thing almost everyday but still manages to look so good.

he is most notable for having a big bad boy reputation and you knew that he was the breath of fresh air you needed in your life. a person who can understand having the pressure of having to be or to fulfill your persona. a person you can completely be yourself around. a person who is full of warmth no matter how cold he may seem on the outside.

“get in, princess.”

and that was all you needed. you tiredly walked to the other door and sat yourself in the car. rolling his window back up, he looks at you. you are wearing a simple yet stunning black dress along with silver jewelry adorned on your neck and wrists. your makeup is perfectly done but still struggles to hide the fog in your eyes. he has the sudden urge to clear them away. he softens at the sight of you. no one is perfect, but he finds you being perfect enough without ever having to dress up.

“where to?” he asks as gently as he could. he knows that you are most vulnerable during these moments and that it is hard to finally break down your walls after a day full of stress, so he doesn’t pry immediately. all he wants to do is to keep you here, safe and away from your burdens and for you to stay comfortable with him, even if it couldn't be for long. but is that too selfish of him to ask? he hates how you hate your life and it is taking every bone in his body to not run away with you. but who is he to tell you what to do or what to change anyway? all he can do for now is try to find a way to make you genuinely smile.

“take me anywhere,” you whisper to the latter. “i just want to be as far from myself and my life as possible. miles away or the nearest convenience store, just take the long way home before dawn.”

you look down at the cup holders, spotting an open cigarette box. you tug one out of the nineteen and light it with the lighter you kept in your pocket. you lean back and close your eyes. he only admires as you bring the cigarette to your lips, exhaling a cloud of smoke afterwards. letting the radio play quietly, he starts the car and begins to drive away from the mansion. he can’t help but wonder how you (an elegant daughter) and him (a bad boy) are millions of worlds apart, but more similar than you think.

© perhapsthanatos (efa)

[sammypompeius]

As I said in this post I just watched the first 3 eps of season 15 and I wanna talk about them ^^ (under the cut)

I REALLY liked Belphegor so I drew them to accompany this. Also this just showed how good of an actor Alex is like HE HAS THE RANGE KSHAJAJW.

I felt so much for Cas in this eps 😭 he just lost Jack and has to deal with this demon walking around in his body. There's not as much focus on Sam and Dean's feelings regarding this, all I can remember is Dean getting uncomfortable with Belfagor flirting with him in his son's body (that's what that scene was right??) but then he did say they needed to get him out of Jack's body. I do think they felt the same as Cas (maybe not as fiercely) but since Belphegor was being helpful and they needed all the help they could get they just went with "it's not Jack, he's dead, it's just his body".

I knew Rowena was going to die and I know she's gonna be the queen of hell but I got so sad about her death anyway... recap reminded that sam would be the one to kill her so we know it's coming, and every time they focus on them both my heart clenched. And then her death scene came and I was sad and I thought it was beautiful and she as a character was being so amazing. Her friendship with Sam came to this moment that, even though Sam tried to deny it, they knew would happen and I really loved it (but I kinda wish the last shot of her death was her jumping and not her falling into hell bc those effects looked weird ngl).

And then the DESTIEL DIVORCE 😭 I kid you not when Dean said "why does that something always seem to be you? " my mom went " *LE GASPPPP* I CANT BELIEVE THE AUDACITY- ". So like yessss I already knew this was going to happen but with the knowledge of exactly what was happening I:

 1: am really frustrated with dean because the amazing gay angel doesn't deserve to hear that

 2: am glad Cas left (he wasn't being treated right) I feel they weren't resolving anything being so physically close, like they are always close because they want to make sure the other is okay/they simply feel drawn to each other, and they need some time away to cool off and think about it (especially Dean)

3: understand Dean and relate to him (what's probably a reason I'm frustrated with him, I normaly have a love/hate relationship with characters I relate to bc "YOU UNDERSTAND ME AND HELP ME UNDERSTAND MYSELF" but also "THOSE ARE THE FLAWS THAT MAKE ME HATE MYSELF WHY DO I ENJOY YOUR CHARACTER YOU LITTLE SHIT???"). Like I too tend to lash out on the people I love most when I'm sad and frustrated and angry, even more when I actually blame myself, that and "I cannot do anything right I MUST apologize for my every breath and distance myself from everyone I love because I can ONLY be bothering these amazing people or will in the future so I gotta go away while they don't hate me yet" are my "coping mechanisms" so y'all can see why destiel feels make me crawl up my walls.

What I mean is THE DIVORCE IS HITTING ME HARD HELP. Like Dean has been letting out all of the anger his recent losses and failures brought up on Cas because he's already on a roll of blaming him for everything he can (because of Mary's death). Then Rowena dies (and it messes up Sam) so Dean doesn't even try to listen to Cas on his reasoning and why he couldn't follow the plan, he immediately blames him like he's been doing with everything else "I've tried to talk to you over and over but you just don't wanna hear it, you don't care" because he feels like he has to blame someone, because he feels so much and he feels so fiercely, especially towards Cas. I understand that but it doesn't excuse it (lmao sorry if I'm projecting too hard), Cas doesn't deserve to hear that, from the MAN HE LOVES no less, doesn't deserve to be blamed for so much when he always has the default setting of blaming himself. And Cas as always just takes it. That's why even though I'm glad Cas left I feel really sad about it because Cas was probably not thinking of all these things when he decided to go, it seemed to be because he felt unwanted or useless there (to the brothers (to Dean)). He just felt he was not needed, much less wanted there. He wasn't thinking "I deserve better than this shit" he didn't go for his own well being, he went because he thought it was for Dean's, AND THAT BREAKS MY STONE COLD HEART.

Dean is suffering because he feels nothing he has is real, while Cas suffers because he believes "we are" but he doesn't have that "we" anymore. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[mego42]

I 100% agree about wanting more fanfic lists! I honestly think it's the best way to get a variety. Everybody has personal preferences, if someone, who mostly reads long, fluffy au Brio fic, is making recs, they're not likely to mention short, angsty, canon Brio (which is understandable and fair!) so ideally someone else, who does like those, would also do recs. I'm pretty sure I've read or at least tried the vast majority of Brio fics, but the recs often make me re-read the fic and author.

YAAASSSS!!! I mean like, okay, I v much get why people have issues with rec lists, and I def do not by any stretch endorse the idea that recs/rec lists should be considered anything other than one person sharing a think they liked, but to me a lot of the issues (the same fics/authors getting recced, feeling like awesome fics/authors are going unrecognized) can be solved by more reccing, not less. everyone’s got different taste and different stuff they look/read for and I am extremely pro sharing that.

Idk, I think about it like this: in a previous internet life I was a YA book blogger and I lived and died by recs from other bloggers whose taste and preferences I knew. I mean, you know, I’d check out a book bc the premise sounded interesting but literally the first thing I would do was go to Goodreads and look for a handful of people who tended to like the same books I did and see what they were saying about it bc that was the best way to get a good idea of if I wanted to give it a shot. Or, on the flip side, there were some people whose reviews I followed bc I knew we v much did not read for the same things so if they hated a book for X, Y and Z reasons, I was probs going to like it (one thing about book blogging is if you want to keep current, you do not have a lot of time to mess around, snap judgements are key but that’s a whole other thing and idk if it’s even relevant anymore bc that landscape has changed so much). 

ANYWAY, the point is, I got in the habit and now I do the same thing with fic bc, tbh, I don’t have a ton of time to read, esp not when I’m actively writing which, with the exception of the last week or two, I’ve been doing p non-stop since I got here. All of which to say is, I am desperately in favor of fic recs for purely selfish reasons, I need them! Give them to me!!! Please!!!!!

That said, I uh, am v bad at returning the favor and I recognize that (I think I’ve made what? two rec lists for this fandom?) so I will try to do better to live by my own, idek what this is, moving on and here are 10 recs not really thematically linked by anything other than I’ve read them and loved them and don’t think I’ve put any of them on one of my rec lists yet (and if I have, my blog is a trainwreck I cannot be expected to remember what’s on it LET ME LIVE):

The Goodest Boy by EnsignDisaster

There’s a key turning in the lock and Buddy rushes over to greet his Master excited for her to meet his new friends. The door opens and he dances around Master’s feet rejoicing on the fact that she’s made it home. It's been literally forever.

“Hey Buddy what’s wrong? Need to go potty? Need to pee-pee?”

“Nah he’s good we took him out.”

Master does something very unMasterlike, she drops all the food she’d brought in on the ground and screams. It’s a non traditional avant garde type of hello…Buddy loves it. Mostly because while Master taps furiously on her small light box and sits tense in the corner opposite his new friend Buddy can lick up the egg smashed on the hardwood floor.

Buddy! The! Dog! POV! no further explanation necessary. Technically WIP, but it covers the whole pilot in a way that could be read as standalone (THOUGH THAT WOULD V MUCH GIVE ME A SAD though, when did the show forget the Bolands had a dog? so maybe that’s a tragic casualty of canon, idk)

May The Moon’s Silvery Beams by @pynkhues

Emma hums in agreement, and Rio turns her around to sit her on the counter, grabbing one of the older looking boxes of muesli while she kicks her legs out, heels bumping back against the counter, watching him. He gropes around the inside of the box, finally just opting to pull the plastic cereal bag out and peering inside. He can’t quite keep the grin off his face when he sees the wad of cash lining the bottom. This woman kills him, she really does.

Then there’s a little face peering up beside him, trying to peek into the box.

“What is it?” she asks, and he tilts the box sideways so she can see inside.

The upside to not getting here until s3 is that old fic is new to me! Huzzah!! Idk how many of y’all have already read this on but if you haven’t I highkey recommend. Extremely cute take on what if Emma woke up when Rio and came by to collect his/Beth’s/whoever's money during the shutdown. Cannot believe I’m reccing kidfic. Witchcraft!!!!!!

Maybe You’re My Fantasy by ohmisterjapan

He fucking loves the involuntary. It speaks to how he likes to unlock chaos and walk away. He's been called a control freak before and it felt like such a misunderstanding of him - he's all about self control but he doesn't want to control others. It's more that he enjoys revealing to them how little they can control themselves. It's more that he likes to stand still in the eye of someone else's storm and pick coldly through the wreckage.

Another oldie but a goodie. This fic is more like an extended character study (first chapter Rio POV, second chapter Beth) and I LIVE FOR THIS KIND OF SHIT. I really really really love the take on both characters, it really digs in and pulls out some nuances that made me sit and think about my own read of them and I love it.

A Shock Of Blue by mintletters16

“You don’t look very well. Would you… like me to get you a glass of water or something?”

Her voice is low but smooth, laced with a softness that cuts straight though to his core. Strawberry blonde locks fall gently just above the pair of magnets freezing him in place.

He can still feel the chaos tearing through his veins - emanating from the gold plated gun stuffed in his waistband - and suddenly he can’t be here anymore. Can’t meet this wide-eyed gaze that’s been locked on his for the past God-knows-how-long anymore.

Can’t see blue alive and concerned when he just left it cold and void somewhere in oblivion.

She’s looking at him like he’s on the brink of madness. He thinks maybe he is.

Apparently, it’s backlist rec day over here and I’m not sorry. This one is another technical WIP but the chapter works as a standalone (BUT if the author decided to return to it I WOULD NOT BE MAD). It’s a what if Beth and Rio met pre-canon and it works so!!! well!!!! The tension and fascination and build are all *chef’s kiss* plus the writing is gorgeous and lyrical and ugh, I love it.

for a moment we were strangers by openhearts

“We got stuff,” Rio motions with a nod to the backpack Beth hadn’t noticed when they arrived hanging on the back of one of the chairs at the island.

She swallows and turns back to the dishes, realizing Rio apparently means to sleep there , assuming the place isn’t bugged.  Or for some kind of cover story if it is.  She turns and fixes Rio with a narrow-eyed stare, studying his face, the corner of his jaw especially prominent from the angle she’s looking up at him.  He’s methodical about drying each dish and setting it back on the rack, maddeningly ignoring her hard stare, so when he goes to take the next plate from her hands she grips it tightly and gets his attention.

“Hey.”

“What you on about now?” he asks, irritated.

It gets her gut uneasy, how he’s just . . . there, settling in, in ways he never had before, no matter how nonchalantly he would let himself in through her locked doors.  

“This is,” Beth tries, failing, to find words for it, “. . . it’s weird .”

This one takes place post 204 and Rio and Marcus end up spending a long weekend staying with Beth and Emma for reasons (that work, for the record, I’m just not trying to summarize rn) and it’s domestic and cute but honestly my fav part of it is how weirded out Beth is by how easily they slip into sync. The story does an excellent job balancing where they are in canon (uneasy post-sex truce) with a snapshot of what they could be if they got over themselves (HA! as if) and Beth is DEEPLY FREAKED which makes her slow slide into realizing she could maybe sort of kind of oh shit like it/him??? that much more satisfying.

Not So Careful by @bensonstablers

When he doesn’t answer, her eyes go to his but he’s too busy watching the letter opener which is still pressed against the back of his hand. Curiously, Beth runs it up his arm, careful not to press too hard, and smiles a little as he shivers. Pulling her leg up onto the bed, she shuffles closer to him before pressing the tip of the sword to his chest and slowly circling his left nipple with it, being sure not to get too close.

“You ain’t gotta be that careful.”

And when she lifts her eyes to meet his, he’s got that look. The one that always makes a lump form in her throat and for her to fall back into bed with him without a single thought of what they have to do that day. Only thing is, this time they’ve got nothing to do for the rest of the weekend and well, staying in bed the entire time had seemed like an appealing idea so she allows herself to give in a little to that look.

It makes me EXTREMELY SAD that knifeplay ranked so low on the kink survey so I’m gonna need y’all to check out this V V V EXCELLENT example of it and come back and tell me you’re sorry and you voted wrong. I am v reasonable what are you talking about.

love (where it wasn’t supposed to be) by @lilliloves

"You know what I can't stand?" Rio asks, stepping closer. It's a rhetorical question but he pauses for a second and watches Dean sniff, watches a bead of sweat trickle down his forehead, watches him shift on both his feet as he contemplates making a run for it.

"A guy who don’t realize how good he's got it." Rio continues, looking Dean up and down in disgust. "A guy that will literally fuck up a good thing just to get his dick wet."

"Yeah, well I can't stand a guy who can have anyone he wants but chooses the married woman he's not entitled to.” Dean shoots back. "And I really can't stand the fact that you're always in the room with us even when you aren't there."

And who brings him into the room Dean hmmmmm????? Jk, jk (or am I). In this one Rio catches Dean out on the town with another woman (bc of course he is) and tries to call him out but whoops! gets called out himself. I really love the like, idk, undercurrent of wistful regret in this fic. I love Dean straight up calling Rio out on his feelings (spoilers but there’s an exchange right after this one that made me straight up holler), and, you know, obvs I am here for Rio making Dean feel like an ass. 

Hell Is Other People by makemanybraver

Rio: We're in Hell, Elizabeth! If you don't think you belong here, then repent! Don't fuck everyone in the room in hopes that you get to go out!

Beth: Why do I have to repent?!

Rio: Because you did some fucked up shit in your life, Elizabeth! You keep doing fucked up shit here, too! And you think you don't belong here!

Beth [screaming at the top of her lungs]: Because I don't!

This fic is existentially bonkers and I love it. It’s the kind of experimental format/homage/what have you kind of thing that I L O V E. Based on No Exit by Jean-Paul Sartre, Beth, Rio, and Fitzpatrick are stuck together in a room in hell for all eternity. What more do you need, honestly.

Working On Things by odenkirk

Unknown Hold up, Elizabeth. I'm really thinkin about you here.

Beth turned her face into the pillow, effectively suffocating herself for a moment, but thinking it was a good trade off for the way the cool silk of her pillowcase chilled her skin.

She lifted her head to glance at the still sleeping Dean before replying.

Beth I'm thinking about you too. But this can't happen.

She wanted him to know she wanted him, but she also thought that admitting she was already there would save Rio from trying to convince her. She wanted him, but morals had to win just once in a while.

YES this is technically Beth/Dean while also being Beth/Rio BUT it’s also sort of Rio/Dean and I am HERE FOR THE DIVERSITY OF SHIPPING leave me alone who asked you.

Five Times He Knew What She Was Thinking, and One Time He Didn't by JoeyLee

Aight, so tell ‘em I was hittin’ it. Said deliberately blunt, eyes locked on her face the whole time, just to see those blue eyes widen. She looked so shocked that he almost laughed, so he softened it teasingly just to keep her going. Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart, tell ‘em we were makin’ love.

Then he just watched her, just watched her face, just fucking fascinated. Her lips were parted and her eyes were big as saucers, and…there it was. Before she could look away flustered, he watched the thought go through her mind. Him and her together.

He wondered what she was picturing or where. Them in the back seat, her bed, a motel?  Her on top or him from behind or his face between her legs?

Whatever it was, the blush started immediately, and he watched it bloom out from her cheeks to her hair. Then she was tearing her eyes away to gulp a little.  But it didn’t knock her down for long before she was looking back. And then, wait, was she actually asking him how to go about telling a fed they were fucking?

Okay this is another technical WIP but works as a standalone. I am absolutely fucking feral for character POV takes of canon scenes and this is a supremely excellent take on Rio POV of some notable scenes from the pilot through 204. Imo it brilliantly captures Rio’s voice and I love it a lot. 

HEADS UP I am absolute shite at tracking ao3 to tumblr unless people have specifically told me someone’s ao3/tumblr name SO if you recognize any of the non-tumblr authors on please lmk so I can tag them and YES I recognize that I am asking y’all to do things for me throughout this entire post and I’M SORRY OKAY I’M A WHOLE ASS MESS LOVE YOU BYE

[sastielsfandom]

I heard it was bisexual day, so here's a story of a bisexual Sam and an asexual Cas. Two parts of the community that loved to get ignored by the majority. I might post a second part in Castiel's POV.

I was rushing around, rushing to finish my surprise for Cas. I have been acting suspicious for the past two weeks as I tried to keep this surprise, well a surprise.

I've been asking a lot of people for help, and today was the day everything went into motion. Jack and Cas were out shopping, while everything got put up.

When Cas came out to me as asexual, I knew I had to do something special for him. He admitted he felt like it made our relationship, incomplete, which was utter bullshit. Sex doesn't make a relationship official or anything. So to show him I love him, and accept him. I decided to pride out our room.

I ordered three flags, the bi, ace and gay flag. I sewed together the ace and bi, and cut the gay flag into a heart. I then sewed it in the middle of the two.

I was now setting it up above our bed, and Dean came in with stencils and paint. He painted "You'll bee what you'll bee." on Castiel's side of the room. While I painted the bees alongside it.

Charlie set up the sign that looked like AC/DC except the D was replaced with a B. It had the ace flag and bi flag colors on the respective sides with a lighting bolt separating AC and BC. Dean had found it online, the design, and said it was his mission to get that in my room.

Jody was setting up pictures of all of us, they were all Polaroids, except for the one in the middle, it's a photo of me and Cas cuddling on the couch kissing. No one will tell me who took the photo, my suspicion is Dean, no matter, I love it. It's a bit bigger than the rest.

I gave Cas a bee plushy that said, "Bee mine?" on the side of it, for Valentine's day, and set it next to the Moose plushy Cas got me. It said, "It moose be love." on the back of it, that was gifted to me on my birthday. I set them next to each other on our dresser, we usually have them in the closet, but I liked them better in sight.

When I left the room and came back, I saw "Sastiel" painted on the door, I didn't have enough time to remove it, it looked like Claire's handwriting.

Jack sent a text saying they were coming back, we cleaned up all the spare supplies, I put them in the archives for the moment. Later I can store them in a more permanent setting.

I was getting nervous as I waited. I was sure Cas would like the surprise, but how could I be sure? I paced around the room until I heard the door handle open.

"Sam, someone wrote on our door-" Cas looked around the room, slowly walking in. He was looking at each of the new additions with wonder, and hopefully awe.

"Do you like it?" I asked pulling him out of his thoughts, he looked back at me surprised, and instead of a verbal answer, he pulled me down by my shirt and kissed me.

"I'll take that as a yes." I panted when we pulled away, Cas smiled and hugged me.

"Who helped?" He asked recognizing Dean's handwriting on the wall. I listed off everyone and he smiled even bigger. I went around the room explain explaining who did what, and whose ideas were whose.

He picked up the bee plushy and smiled at me, at that exact moment a flash went off. We looked at the door and saw everyone pretending they just happened to be near our door.

Dean was the first to waltz in, they soon followed Dean's lead. Cas thanked everyone individually, I was happy to see him getting the support he deserves.

As everyone else talked about the room, or how "adorable" we were, Cas and I were looking at the Polaroid photos. We appreciated them, but were perplexed by how they got the photos.

We eventually got everyone out of our room when everyone got hungry. They went out to eat at a nearby diner, Jack handed me a salad on his way out. It was big enough for me and Cas to share if he wanted any.

We did end up enjoying it, while watching an episode of F.R.I.E.N.D.S, I couldn't tell you what episode we watched. I was transfixed on Castiel's reactions, I never understood his fascination with watching others until I started to watch Castiel.

I might not be able to tell you about the shows we watch together, but I can tell you about the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles and laughs.

I can tell you about all his little commentary that he voices out, not really for a reply back, just to voice his appreciation or frustration.

I could tell you about how he slowly relaxes into my shoulder as the episode progresses, or how every once in a while, during boring parts, he'll look away from the screen to give me a quick kiss.

Or how his fingers end up laced with mine, I could go on about those things, but I don't pay attention to the episodes, they're just not as entertaining as Cas.

He paused it after we were finished with our food, and looked into my eyes. Before we were together, I hated when he would make eye contact, it was just so much pressure. They were full of power, and I always felt intimidated by them. Now, I love seeing the softness he has in his eyes, the emotion they hold. I could zone out and just look into them for hours at a time.

As much as I wanted to, I could see he wanted to talk about something, so I resisted the temptation to get lost in them.

"What's the matter?" I asked prompting him, since it seemed he didn't know how to start.

"I was worried for a while that after I came out to you, that you were becoming distant. I should've known better." Cas admitted, I snuggled up closer to him. I had a feeling he misread my actions, which was my fault.

"Cas, I didn't mean to make you worry. I love you, and every small things that makes you, you."

"Thank you for not seeing me as broken." Cas said next, which made my heart sink.

"If you're broken, then I'm broken too. Am I broken?" I asked him, he shook his head.

"It's settled, you're perfect the way you are." I whispered, and Cas snuggled in closer. I unpaused the tv, and watched Cas until I fell asleep, it is our nightly ritual after all.

[qveersam]

gorgeous

i made this gifset based on taylor swift’s song gorgeous and i kept thinking this could be a fic, so i kinda wrote one??? i haven’t written anything in years and it’s actually my first time writing any fiction in english, so if anyone reads this pls be kind??? lmao it’s nothing special really, but it’s a nice exercise to write in your second language.

there's nothing i hate more than what i can't have

you are so gorgeous it makes me so mad

- “gorgeous” by ts

wincest; 1.6k; first kiss; dean is angry bc sam is pretty [ao3]

It took Sam some time to notice. At first, he brushed it off as Dean’s usual annoyed stares. When you spent almost every hour of the day with your brother, you were bound to get on each other’s nerves. He knew that, specially since he and Dean had that strange magnetic field between them, pulling them close even when they didn’t want to. And he could totally admit he was probably almost as annoying as Dean, no matter what his brother might like to say about him thinking he was better than everyone else. What Sam thought was weird, though, was that he kept catching Dean staring angrily at him even when they hadn’t argued in God knows how long. Even on those good weeks, after a particularly good hunt or after a couple of days off. He was pretty sure he wasn’t that annoying, at least not enough to deserve so many glowering looks anyway.

It was a beautiful and warm morning when Sam finally accepted Dean was angry at him for some reason. There wasn’t any reason for Dean to be pissy that day. They’d decided to take the day to do some research, even though they both knew that was just an excuse to sleep in, watch crappy movies and take proper care of some injuries that wouldn’t heal no matter what they did. Maybe they could even use the motel pool Dean was always so excited about, even though Sam thought was too gross to go in. It was the perfect day for them to just be them. No drama, no demons, no dying people. Just them taking care of each other like they used to, talking about nothing and everything over half drank beers.

So of course Sam was surprised when he came back to the motel after getting breakfast and was greeted with an eye roll from Dean. No good morning, no thanks, Sammy. Just an eye roll and an annoyed snort.

“Dude, what the hell is wrong with you?” Sam set the greasy bags on the dirty looking side table and turned to his brother with what he knew was his signature bitchy expression. Dean stopped on his way to the table, and had at least the decency to look guilty for a couple of seconds. He returned to himself quickly enough, setting with his now usual cranky mood. He brushed past Sam and grabbed a donut.

“Nothin’. What else ya got there? Smells good.” And just like that, Sam was expected to drop it. He knew how much his brother hated talking about stuff and would very much prefer to just keep things bottled up until he exploded and ended up punching Sam. And hell, Sam was sick and tired of acting careful around Dean and then pissing him off anyway. He really needed to find out what the hell he did wrong this time.

His answer came that afternoon, their speeches slurred from the alcohol. The sun kept getting hotter as the hours passed so, without a working AC on the room, their obvious solution had been to get drunk off their asses. They were lying each on their bed, watching The Fly on the old TV set, talking and joking, a nice change from the past days. On one of the long commercial breaks, Sam for once decided to get them something stronger from the mini frigde. He was still laughing over something stupid Dean said and had already forgotten about, when he grabbed two glasses of cheap whiskey and gave one for his brother.

Sam laid back on the bed, leaving his own glass forgotten for a moment, and stretched, the hem of his t-shirt getting caught and revealing some of his stomach, trying to find a more comfortable position to finish his drink. That’s when he saw Dean looking at him, his expression slowly turning into one of his scowls. Sam saw his brother turn his face away from him as soon as he realized he’d been caught, a slight blush rising on his cheeks. Dean dragged his hand across his face and he quickly took his glass of whiskey, clenched jaws and furrowed eyebrows, avoiding Sam’s eyes. Sam just kept looking at him. They were having a nice time, weren’t they? He couldn’t turn his eyes away from Dean, wondering what had gone wrong. This time it was Sam staring, he knew Dean would snap at him in approximately 10 seconds if he didn’t stop. So he didn’t.

“Will you please just tell me what I did, Dean? I can’t put up with your pissy face forever”, he said jokingly, only to receive an annoyed huff. Alright, not in the mood then, he thought.

“Already said it’s nothin’, Sam. Just let it go.”

“Yeah, right. I know how much you love projecting your bullshit on me, Dean. I’m not your own personal punching bag or some shit”, Sam probably would have sounded a lot more convincing if he weren’t mispronouncing every other word. Damn you, alcohol. “Can we talk like grown ups instead of acting like passive agressive teenagers for once, Dean?” Sam rolled his eyes and Dean kept quiet for some time, trying his best to ignore him.

“Will you stop staring? ‘s not helping, y’know?”, he turned to Sam with an exasperated growl, rolling his eyes again. Dean looked back to the TV, adding in an almost inaudible whisper, “That fuckin’ face, man. I can’t fuckin’ look at that fuckin’ face anymore. Fuckin’ pretty boy or whatever.”

Sam almost choked on his drink, staring at Dean’s profile as he finished the whiskey at a single gulp. “What’s that about my face?”, Sam’s voice was almost amused now, not sure what he’d heard. Had he heard it? No way. Right? He’s totally way too drunk right now. Dean would never say that. Right?

Dean turned back to Sam looking both agressive and caught at the same time. He practically threw his empty glass back on the bed before standing up and pacing on the small space between their beds. He passed his fingers on his short hair, rolled his eyes yet again – Sam swore was going to fucking kill him if Dean did that one more time – and stopped, glaring at Sam.

“Your face, Sam. Think you can just go around looking like that? I-I mean… What the fuck, y’know? My baby brother has no business lookin’ like a fuckin’ model every time I look at him”, Dean sounded frustrated and Sam couldn’t close his fucking mouth he was so shocked. “And then, I mean… whatcha trynna do here? Gimme a fuckin’ heart attack every time you smile with those fuckin’ dimples and all? Gonna fuckin’ kill me one of these days. I can’t look at you, I’m gonna fuckin’ punch you or somethin’.”

“Okay, so lemme get this straight… You’re angry with me because I look... good?”, Sam couldn’t keep the disbelieve from his voice.

“No, Sammy! I’m angry with you because you’re fuckin’ gorgeous. For fuck’s sake. Fuckin’ gorgeous, man. Look at your face!”, and then he wasn’t looking at Sam anymore. He turned shyly away from his brother and ran his hand through his hair again. “You’re so gorgeous it makes me so fuckin’ mad, Sam. Y’know I always hate what I can’t have.”

The alcohol burned in Sam’s stomach. Was that for real? His stupid beautiful brother, with those very stupid green eyes and freckles and that obscene mouth of his… calling him gorgeous? What a weird choice of word, by the way, but he’d worry about it later. He held his breath for a moment, waiting for that information to fully sink in. Dean seemed to be holding his breath too. Waiting. Expecting. None of them knew what, but definitely something. For a moment, Sam forgot about everything around them. Past and present became an irrelevant mess, everything leading to them right in that room. What did anything matter now? Sam had basically just heard Dean wanted him. And thought he couldn’t have him. How could his own flesh and blood be so unbelievably dumb sometimes?

“Who says you can’t have me?”

Dean turned to Sam with his eyes confused and pleading. The air felt suddenly very heavy with the weight of possibility, the whole universe concentrated around them, in every inch of space between them, inside them. Sam felt the strong pull towards his brother he always did his best to ignore as he got up from the bed and walked the few steps until he reached Dean. He almost jumped when Sam touched his shoulder, a shiver passing both of them, as if all of the touches and looks and moments between them were enough to cause an electric storm right there in the space between their skins. A million thoughts were racing in Sam’s head as he closed the space between their mouths, and then they went quiet all at once. The only thing he could think about were those lips under his, the way Dean immediately put his hands on Sam’s neck, bringing them closer together, their mouths opening up for each other.

“You’re gorgeous too, Dean”, Sam managed to say between kisses, smiling because he thought he actually understood the word choice. There couldn’t be another word to describe Dean. Or to describe them. Together.