#expectingtofly writes

[expectingtofly]

finally free, they drive

2k

day 1 of @thiscastielhasflown and i's follower celebration

prompt: diners/roadtrip

Twenty-four years ago in Mankato, Minnesota, Dean killed a wendigo with a bottle of Jack and a lighter. He told Cas this, how the flames lit the inside of the cave and his dad had to drag him out because he suddenly couldn’t move, how he stayed silent for a week even though his dad begged him to speak.

Seventeen years ago, in Monte Vista, Colorado, Dean burned the bones of a malevolent spirit that sliced a gash through his chest before he could swing an iron crowbar through her foggy figure. As he and Cas passed by the cemetery where he and his dad had dug up her remains, he could almost picture himself standing between the tombstones, his dad tossing him the lighter. Do the honors.

In Evanston, Wyoming, he and Cas stopped to eat at a diner that looked vaguely familiar. As they sat down at a booth in the back, waitress handing them their menus, it hit him.

“Pretty sure Sam and I went through here before.” He couldn’t remember what they'd been hunting. “Years ago. After dad. You know. Passed.”

And Cas was silent a moment before replying, "I wish I’d known you then."

Then he declared he wanted the French onion soup from the specials of the day, like he hadn’t just spoken Dean's thoughts aloud in his uncanny way of knowing exactly what Dean wished for before Dean knew it himself.

Sometimes, while passing semi-trailer trucks on the freeway, when the setting sun glinted off the metal partition between west and east-headed traffic, he wondered what life would’ve been like if he knew Cas when he was twenty-six. When he was so lonely, his chest felt like a vise at night, and he slipped out of mildewed motel rooms to gasp in chilly night air. When he sought out crowded bars because accidental nudges and jostles were substitutes for caresses.

What might’ve changed if he'd known Cas when he was twenty-two, when Sam left for college and Dad left with a cutting, Don't look for me. If, confronted with an angel then, he would’ve been able to believe in good things, if he would've kissed him to not feel so alone.

The radio played Dolly Parton at a diner in Des Moines, a young couple sat at the counter, Cas stacked small containers of strawberry jelly and orange marmalade into a tower, and Dean imagined sitting across from him when he was nineteen. But then Cas looked up at him triumphantly over perfectly balanced preserves, and the what-if's dissolved in a growing warmth in his chest. Cas had been right after all. Good things did happen.

They drove without a destination now that they didn’t need one, changing course frequently, turning off exits to follow signs for roadside attractions, homestyle meals, and scenic overlooks.

Prairie and forest, coast and desert. He'd traveled these roads before, but he was paying attention now. Everything looked different with Cas sitting by his side, when every glance to his right revealed Cas already looking at him.

Re-heated diner leftovers and slices of pie for breakfast, crumbs on the bed, brown bags in the backseat, lunch breaks at rest stops, sitting on the hood to unwrap grease-stained burger wrappers, kept warm from the sun coming through the car’s windows.

Baby had been his home for years. He'd learned her nooks, her curves, how best to settle on the benchseat and tuck his jacket against the door to wake without a crick in his neck.

Moving into the bunker, he'd claimed a room, made a space for every item he owned: a hook for every weapon, a box for every photo, a hanger for every jacket. The concrete walls and sterile bathrooms meant order, control.

He used to be afraid that if he let one item fall out of place, he'd lose his grip on the delicate thread which held him together.

Crackling radio in Omaha, searching for a station. Cassette-tapes pulled out of a box that he hadn’t rifled through since a time when angels were still a myth, god didn’t exist, and death was always close, but not someone they knew by name. Black Sabbath, Motorhead, Metallica. Then, out of Cas' pocket, his own “Top 13 Zepp Traxxs,” which he was surprised to learn Cas still kept, the words on the label faded.

“It was a gift,” Cas said, tucking the cassette into the deck and turning up the volume.

Busy diners where their food took ages to come to their table and Dean doodled on napkins to pass the time. Stuffed them into his pocket and forgot until he pulled them out while looking for change to pay for gas. A tiny Impala, a sun with dashes for rays, sigils, tiny flowers which Cas had added to the corners.

An argument on I-70 and sixty-two miles of tense silence. "If you don't speak to me, I can't understand," Cas said, voice quiet under the whir of tires on the road.

Dean changed lanes, watched a tarp flap over the bed of a pick-up truck. "I don't know how," he admitted.

Cas let out a breath that sounded like relief. "We'll learn."

He learned Cas liked brightly colored shirts labeled with the names of locations they visited, oversized because tight sleeves made him itch. He learned that the strangely named items on diner menus had backstories that owners behind counters were all too eager to share when Cas prompted them. He learned Cas hovered in doorways as if he was waiting to be invited inside, learned Cas knew every upbeat song playing over the radio in gas stations, had nightmares too, could stay silent for seventy miles then speak a thought aloud that left Dean stunned for seventy more.

He taught Cas how to pass the time on roads that stretched to the horizon. Name a movie for every letter of the alphabet. Name three items you'd take to a deserted island. Name everyone we've lost along the way—he didn't mean to begin talking about them, but they seemed closer than ever before on the open road, under a vast, cloudless sky. The wind whisked their names from their mouths, and Dean liked the idea of them still existing, here, around them.

A map open on his lap, Cas circled every town they stopped at, traced their route with a red pen. Folded and unfolded the page until the creases made the snaking lines nearly illegible. "I want to remember," he told Dean, and Dean traced the creases to feel their route under his finger. The steering wheel was warm under his palms, the diner floors sticky under his boots, the motel sheets stiff when he pulled them back from the headboard, and he told Cas, "Pinch me," in the dark of an eighty-dollar-a-night room. Cas touched his face and kissed him instead.

The rocky coast off of Oregon delighted Cas. He rolled up his pant legs, clutched Dean's hand as they walked unsteadily over the slippery rocks to step into the Pacific Ocean. The wind whipped his hair over his face and he pushed back the strands, grinning back at Dean. Sometimes at night, when Cas slept curled into him, Dean looked at the photo he'd taken of him and wished he had a place of their own to frame it.

Long phone calls to family and friends who told them to take their time, do not disturb signs hung on motel doorknobs, winding backroads and detours. He grew out his hair and told Cas he needed a cut. Cas twisted his fingers through the strands, and mused, "I like it." Dean kept it and noticed the strands curled at the ends.

A sign on the highway in Ohio read, "Hell is Real." He still had nightmares. As cornfields passed, Cas recounted seeing his soul for the first time, and sometimes Dean imagined he remembered the safety of Cas' wings as he pulled him out of the depths of Hades.

Cas got sick in Idaho, complained, voice echoing in the toilet bowl, "I told you that diner was not sanitary." Dean rubbed his back and told him he'd write a scathing review. In West Virginia, over a pile of spilled salt and stale fries that were probably nuked behind the counter, Cas told him he loved him. It wasn't for the first time, but his breath still caught in his throat.

They ate fried okra in Oklahoma City, beignets in New Orleans, and Dean requested Earth Angel on a jukebox in a vinyl and chrome diner in Wisconsin. Slid into the booth to press against Cas' side and watch him fill out postcards. Did you know dinosaurs once roamed where the Rockies now stand? Don't know when we'll be back. We bought new cassettes to add to the collection and I convinced Dean to let me choose the music. Still so much we haven't seen.

The magic fingers bed at the King's Court Motel cost four quarters for fifteen minutes—three more than when he was younger, he griped to Cas. The vibrating massage didn't seem quite as relaxing as he remembered, but maybe he was just used to more magical fingers—this he accompanied with an exaggerated wink which made Cas roll his eyes.

The Impala broke down on Route 66, and the asphalt radiated heat as he ducked under the hood. Cas hovered at his side and he realized he didn't have the tools to fix her.

They ate lunch at a mom-and-pop’s restaurant as they waited for the mechanic to finish, and Cas gave him the pickle from his sandwich. "I'm sorry I never asked you to stay," Dean told him and wished he'd said it earlier. "I never wanted you to leave."

Cas gave him a sad smile. "It's in the past." He tapped his foot against Dean's under the table, and Dean hooked his ankle with his foot.

Cas parted the curtains in every motel they slept in, tilted his face to the sun beaming through the windshield, urged Dean to stop for a cardboard sign reading Fresh Strawberries $2. Reruns of The Three Stooges made Dean laugh until he wiped tears from the corners of his eyes, had to catch his breath. This happiness didn't seem so fragile, this time. When they turned on the TV tomorrow night three hundred miles away, The Three Stooges would play into the morning, and when he told Cas he loved him, Cas would say it back.

Crossing over rippling water or curving through wooded land, he and Cas spoke a cabin in the woods, a house on the coast, a home. Dean's head filled with the future instead of the past. Every mile that passed under their tires brought them closer to this dream—or so he thought, until he stopped at a red light, and Cas took his hand, and he realized home sat beside him now.

In a diner in Arkansas, Cas read from a menu, plastic corners curling, and commented, "No matter where we go, every place serves an iceberg wedge salad."

Dean replied, "I think I'm ready to stop driving."

He didn't know where they'd park the Impala for good, but he pictured somewhere with windows, patches of sunlight on the floor. The details didn't matter so much, though, not so long as he had Cas.

"For you to me are the only one," he sang over Robert Plant, glancing at Cas as he turned up the radio, wind whistling through the open windows, road humming under their feet. Happiness, no more be sad, happiness, I'm glad.

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

hi not to be awk but you posted something and mentioned "oversized hoodie cas" in the tags, and the mental image of comfy cas hasnt left my mind since. idk how i never even considered such a thing but now im livid we never got to see cas in a huge hoodie sweatshirt. anyway thought you should know the torture you put me thru lol

thank u for telling me, im glad i have now projected the concept of cas in oversized hoodies on another mind. sending love, and please pass it on, so this affection soon reaches every friendly neighborhood cas stan out there >:)

[queen-rowenas]

end of the beginning  - 507 words, destiel

requests are open!

What if when Cas uses the last of his grace, it isn’t a huge spectacle. It isn’t a tragedy.

What if it’s a quiet morning, in a fixer upper house that Dean has mostly fixed—there’s still more to be done, but they have time—and Cas has stopped his morning routine to watch Dean.

Dean is shaving, getting ready for their trip over to Sam and Eileen’s. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, something that Cas has watched countless times now.

But isn’t that the point?

That he has this privilege now?

Dean’s eyes are trained on himself in the mirror as he drags the razor down his face, his guard completely dropped. Shoulders relaxed. The sun streams in through the window just past him, creating a halo of light around his bedhead. And he’s the most heavenly thing Castiel has ever seen. The most perfectly human thing.

If Cas had more grace flowing through his veins, it would have been impossible for his heart to skip a beat. Now it’s impossible for it to not.

He can feel it, his grace waning. The very thought of it used to terrify him.

Now he welcomes it. There are no dangers here in their quiet town. No monsters. He doesn’t need to be an angel, a soldier, a guardian. He just needs to be Dean’s.

He spies the gray hairs scattered across Dean’s scalp, thinks of when his will match.

Dean suddenly winces, hisses through his teeth, and Cas snaps to attention. His reverie broken. He moves to Dean’s side as Dean reaches up to wipe at the bead of blood on his neck.

Cas doesn’t think anything of it, reaching up like he always has, with a steadier hand and a more confident touch than he had years before. He brushes his finger over the skin, heals it.

And it flows out of him like a breath. His body feels heavier, his lungs smaller. His heart pounds.

He opens his mouth and shudders.

Dean’s smile falters. “Cas, you okay?”

Cas grips his arm for support, leaning into him, as his knees threaten to buckle.

“Cas?”

Dean’s eyes grow wide as he wraps his arms around him. His voice verges on panic. “What’s going on? Talk to me, babe.”

And the feeling passes. Cas’s body—no longer a vessel—adjusts, and he stands. Breathes out a shuddery breath.

Dean glances over him, stilling. “Was that it?” he asks quietly.

Castiel smiles.

“Yes.” His voice is soft.

Dean’s grip on his tightens before it relaxes, and he lets out a shaky breath, something between a laugh and a sob.

“Are you okay?” A careful question.

Cas looks down at himself, as if something would look different. But he still sees the same dark slacks, the same bee socks. The same ring on his finger.

He sees his paradise.

He takes Dean’s face in his hands, breathing in deep, filling his human lungs. He smells Dean’s shampoo.

“I’m okay.” He kisses him, slow and soft. “We’re okay. I promise.”

—writing tag list (ask to be added or removed)

@10x02 @adammlligan @blue-eyed-cutiepatootie @castiel-for-lunch @castiel-is-a-cat @castielsbeeslippers @ccstiel @deanwinchesteradjacent @destieldisaster @destielfactory @donvex @dstiel @ensignabby @expectingtofly @falling-through-void @feraladoration @fireghost-x @galaxies-of-the-heart @galaxycastiel @garthed @himitsubana @ialwaysordericedcoffee @im-sam-fucking-winchester @lalisfandoms @lateral-org @llamasdumpsterfire @marvells @nightandwine @okamigamer1 @prime-catra @ragingdeansexual @rainbowscas @starsdahb @starrynightdeancas @takemetotheworld @tearsofgrace @top13zepptraxx @van-dynex @winchester-novak @wormstacheangel @writtenmemxries @zeffiroh

[cannibaldatingsite]

WYRMIES EPIC FIC RECOMMENDATIONS while compiling these i saw some patterns so i sorted them into categories and listed them by ascending word-count >:) these are almost all getting together fics so ill specify if otherwise! some are angst but theres always a happy ending cus im a sap so dont worry abt that. only warning any of these fics have is the occasional graphic depictions of violence. [fic name + fic author] [word count] [rating]

☆ Dean Doesnt Realise Theyre Dating Cus Hes Emotionally Inept :/

long-term relationship by bendingsignpost 3K rating T

stories are made of mistakes by wildhoneypie 5K rating T

unknown quantities by xylodemon 8K rating E

no kingdom to come by domesticadventures 16K rating M

put up your dukes by saltyfeather 38K rating E ALSO A CASE FIC

☆ Case-fics

we shovel all the ashes out by xylodemon 15K rating E THIS ONE IS SOOOOO GOOD

the tunnel of love by xylodemon 21K rating E

professional couple only by saltyfeathers 37K rating M also featuring pretend dating

☆ Just Like, Domestic Figuring Things Out

receipts by surlybobbies 1K rating T

the one thing you can’t lose by majorenglishesquire 5K rating M

we’ll find a new home by sleepyvan 8K rating G first date by aeli_kindara 9K rating T 15xs14 coda

cuckoo and nest by komodobits 10K rating E this one is actually established relationship but its really sweet

crawl by aeriallon 11K rating E

you’re fooling yourself by cowboydeanwinchester 13K rating T this one its its so fucking good

i crippled your heart a hundred times by bravest 19K rating E

things happen (they do, they do, and they do) by sobsicles 28K rating E

on drowning by domesticadventures 28K rating T

where the weeds take root by deathbanjo 30K rating E I LOVE THIS ONE SOOOOO MUCH ITS SO GOOD PLEASE READ IT

tall grass by aeli_kindara 57K rating E

☆ Fics Set In Our World

one white lie by komodobits 11K rating G

drive me crazy by expectingtofly 36K rating E trucker AU its so sexy.......

and this, your living kiss by opal_bullets 56K rating M

empty spaces by schmerzerling 60K rating T this is one of my favourite fics literally ever but its also like VERY rough and centered around mental illness and grief so please heed the tags!!!

☆ Category-defying And Epic

r/supernatural by renrub 3K rating G deans reddit history its soooo fucking good

the wilderness. by orange_crushed 8K rating T 9x3 coda angst veil by evol_love 8K rating T ok ok so this is ghostbuster ed POV at the destiel wedding but its litearlly so fun im obsessed with it

good one’s gonna be by remmyme 37K rating E in which cas is this random guy and dean accidentally texts him hehe

heroes for ghosts by pantheon_of_discord 42K rating E canon divergent from 12x8 cas POV very sexy

everybody needs the light by opal_bullets 46K rating M

so says the sword by komodobits 85K rating E

cinderwings by bendingsignpost 181K rating M okay i usually dont like fantasy AUs ESPECIALLYYYY royalty AUs hate it actually HOWEVER THIS FIC!!!!!! this fic is so good its SO good PLEASE read it

supernatural act 2 by virginalbehemoth ?K rating ? incomplete at the time of me writing this but its super epic post-canon fix-it in script form hehe will most likely keep updating this so if you have one you think should go on here send it my way <3

[sir-elyan]

AUGUST 2021 — month in review & monthly favorites

aaand i know this is late but here’s my monthly review!!! reminder that everyone is so goddamn talented idk what to do with you all :/

— ART

jo with a mullet jo & cas besties page of dean sketches bela talbot + demon!bela cas sketches & steve gasnsip sketch rowena in orange garth in purple cas using his powers cas getting cozy with plants and tea

— OTHER

sub!dean manifesto amv

AUGUST FAVORITES

the summer’s gone but the fandom’s creativity sure isn’t!! remember to reblog content that you enjoy so that more people can see it!! <3

— ART

solace (dean and cas) by @kerleyfries  dean & cas bein gay <3 and tfw drawing by @abidraws  eye of the needle by @headust  cas and dean traditional art by @hs-gmac​  team free will in bobby’s house by @bluecamelopard​  glowy grace on dean’s lips and eyelashes by @angel-derangement 

— GIFS, GRAPHICS, MISC.

dean tarot graphic by @thediviners / @spncentral  dean + flume amv by @kellyscabin  dean half god / half hell by @badrituals  gay dean amv by @angeltiddies  deancas + heavenly side amv by @carverera tfw 2.0 family set and cracked chassis by @seraphcastiel  sam + broken bones web weave by @mrsamleahy​  4x22 photoset by @emptymeg dean and cas parallels by @theedorksinlove the end: the game by @maydays2 dean + real man amv by @idontwikeit dean and cas in tombstone by @teamfoundfamily​  deancas x fearless (taylor’s version) graphic by @fromperdition

— WRITING & POETRY

on names (poem) by @angelfirevt I Am Covered In Skin by @angelfishofthelord destiel fluff (friendship bracelets!) ficlet by @expectingtofly

and that’s a wrap on august!! remember, if you ever want me to reblog something of yours, you can use my tracking tag #rambleoncas so i can see it!! i’m also now over at @spncentral​ — use the tracking tag #spncentral to have your work shared on the blog!! <3 thank you for all your creations!!

[expectingtofly]

in honor of friendship day, here's 1k of destiel fluff <3

“Whatcha doin' there, kid?”

Jack looked up from a tangle of colorful yarn on the kitchen table and a paused youtube video on the laptop in front of him. “Making friendship bracelets!”

Dean grabbed a mug from a cabinet and went to the coffee maker. “Doing what now?”

“It’s Friendship Day today and I want to make one for Claire.” He looked at the yarn in his hands which Dean could now tell was threaded together into a pattern. “And Kaia and Alex and Jody and Donna.” He sighed dramatically. “I have a lot to do.”

“Didn’t know Friendship Day was a thing,” Dean said, sitting across from him.

“Me either!” Jack said. “But Google said it was today and I have a lot of friends so I need to celebrate.” He weaved the orange and red threads together. “You should make one!”

Dean snorted and took a drink from his mug. “Think I’m a little too old for friendship bracelets.”

That was something he remembered girls in middle school doing. Making them during recess, passing them around during lunch. Supposed to wear one and never take it off, some superstition about not breaking the bonds of friendship. Never got one himself, so he couldn't say whether that had any truth to it or not.

He blinked to realize Jack was dumping yarn in front of him. “What?”

“I have extras, I flew to the craft store this morning to buy some.”

Dean recognized the determined look in Jack’s eyes; he’d seen it too many times in Cas’. "I dunno how to make one,” he tried as a last ditch effort to get out of this project.

Jack turned his laptop around so they could both see the screen. “I have a tutorial. It’s really easy.”

Setting down his mug with a sigh, Dean started rooting through the yarn, choosing different colors. Friendship Day. At another time, he would’ve told Jack he didn’t have any friends to make bracelets for. That wasn’t true anymore; the bunker was always getting visitors—hunters from other states, Benny, Charlie, Jody, Donna or one of the girls.

He realized the colors he was setting aside were all different shades of blue. Sure, he and Cas were a lot more than friends—he had a blooming hickey on his inner thigh to prove it—but he knew the way Cas’ eyes would light up receiving one. And, anyway, they were friends. Had been for a long time now.

Jack tapped the play button on the youtube video and it was settled. Cas was getting a friendship bracelet.

Maybe not a perfect one, Dean thought half an hour later, sticking his tongue out in concentration as he tried to make the bracelet turn out straight and not all wonky. He tested the length around his own wrist and decided it looked decent. Pretty good for his first ever friendship bracelet.

“Done,” he announced, looking up to see Jack starting on a third. “Jesus, kid, slow down.”

Jack didn’t look up, weaving the purple and white yarn together. “Can’t. I have to make one for Charlie too, just remembered.”

“She’ll love that.” He could almost hear Charlie’s excitement now. Getting to his feet, he ruffled Jack’s hair. “You got a lot of lucky friends. Having you as a friend, I mean.”

Jack beamed up at him. “I’m lucky too.”

And Dean thought he was the luckiest of all to get Cas as a friend-plus-more. He found the angel sitting in the library, reading a Pottery Barn magazine, the picture of contentment.

At his entrance, Cas looked up and smiled. “I found a bookshelf that I think would look nice in our room.” He turned the magazine around so Dean could see.

“Cool.” Dean hovered near his chair, suddenly feeling sheepish holding the thin bracelet in his hand. He cleared his throat. “Hey, you, uh. You know what day it is?”

Cas turned a page in the magazine. "Sunday, August 1st. 2021. 3:12pm. And seven seconds."

"No, it's like a special day."

Cas frowned, looking up at him. “Is today another human holiday I’m unaware of?”

“Nah, it’s not that important. Just, uh. Friendship Day. Jack told me. He’s making friendship bracelets for Claire and Charlie and everyone.”

Cas smiled. “That’s very sweet of him.”

“I kinda made you one. To celebrate, or whatever.” He held out the bracelet.

Cas’ eyes widened going from the dangling bracelet to him. “You made one for me?”

“Yeah, uh. Figured we’re friends, right?” Feeling his face heat, he ducked his head to take Cas’ hand and tie it around his wrist. “Just a weird thing people do.”

Cas turned his wrist to study the bracelet more closely. “I think it’s a wonderful sentiment. I didn’t know you were skilled at bracelet making.”

“Dude, it’s not that hard.” He sat down on the arm of the chair, more to hide his red face than anything. “Jack’s look way better.”

“I love it,” Cas said decisively. “If I had known about today, I would’ve made you one too.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“It is,” Cas insisted. He ran his finger over the bracelet, blue threads forming a pattern more even in some places than others. “You’re my best friend.”

The simple statement, said so definitively, made Dean a little dizzy. Leaning down, he kissed Cas, felt the bracelet brush his face when Cas cupped his jaw. “You're mine too.”

Cas kissed him back, then tugged him off the arm of the chair to half-sit in his lap. The magazine slipped to the floor and Dean shifted, wrapping an arm around Cas’ shoulders to steady himself. He tapped the bracelet. “You’re not supposed to take it off. Kinda a symbol or whatever. Friends for life.”

Cas nodded solemnly and hovered his palm over the bracelet, a glow warming the strands before subsiding. "Nothing can break it, so I can wear it forever." He leaned his head back against Dean’s arm to meet his eyes.

“And, uh, if you made me a bracelet, I would wear it.”

“I will, then.” A slow smile spread across his face. “Does this mean we’re BFFs?” Dean groaned, and Cas laughed. “Claire taught me that phrase.”

“That’s so corny,” Dean complained. But he kissed him again. “Hell yeah we are.”

[queen-rowenas]

@tootiredmotel’s 500 follower celebration day two: secret, “i need it”

It’s late. The motel room is dark, the only light coming from the sign outside. Just enough for Dean to make out the line of Cas’s jaw, the gleam of his eyes, the flash of teeth when he smiles.

The motel was low on rooms, so they could only get one with two queens. Sam is snoring in the next bed over. It’s the only real sound aside from the buzz of the neon No Vacancy sign outside. Well, that and Dean and Cas’s whispers.

They’re curled together in one bed, facing each other. The space between is quiet, warm. Their own secret place.

They’re whispering, talking about everything and nothing, feet tangled together up the covers, trying to keep quiet and not wake up Sam. Cas has a hand curled around Dean’s waist while one of Dean’s hands plays with the soft material of the angel’s shirt.

Dean’s never been happier.

It’s late, and he should be sleeping. Tonight is only a pit stop on their drive back home, and he has a few more hours of driving left.

But he can’t stop listening to Cas. He can’t stop grinning. He might have even giggled earlier, but he’ll never admit it.

After decades of denying himself, he thinks they both deserve a moment to indulge.

But he can’t really call this a simple indulgence. A moment like this, quiet and innocent, together.

Because he needs it. And he thinks maybe Cas needs it, too.

“Okay.” He manages to shuffle closer, closing the already small space between them. His cheeks hurt from smiling. “What if someone already possessed by a demon got anti-possession tattoo? Would the demon just be ejected or like somehow trapped?”

Cas frowns. “A demon would never allow that to happen, and even if there was a lapse in its control, a tattoo would take a long time.”

“Yeah, but humor me.” Dean stifles a yawn. “Hypothetically if that happened, what would it do?”

Headlights pass over the window, cutting through the curtains, lighting up the room for a moment. It glows behind Cas’s back, not quite touching Dean, protected in his shadow. It almost gives the illusion of a halo. For a second, Dean forgets about his question and stares.

Cas only smiles back, and for once Dean is grateful for the outside light giving him the chance to see everything. The curl of his lip, the wrinkles at the edges of his eyes and nose, the warm affection in his gaze.

“I would need more time to consider it. And you,” Cas says, leaning in to press a kiss to Dean’s lips, “need to rest.”

“No, I don’t,” Dean grumbles, but he doesn’t resist as Cas tugs him in closer, slipping an arm around his back.

“Yes, you do. You’re driving in the morning, and I would prefer not to get in a wreck.”

“Hey.” Dean shoves at Cas’s chest before tucking into it, pressing his nose into the hollow of his throat. “I’m a great driver.”

Cas rests a hand on the back of his head, pressing a kiss into his hair. “Of course, Dean.”

“And we’re finishing this discussion tomorrow.”

“Of course, Dean.”

The motel mattress sucks, too hard and too old with a sketchy smell, the kind that usually guarantees some impressive neck and back aches in the morning. And Dean is already prone to those now.

But he doesn’t care. He’s got an angel watching over him. The fingertips running through his hair trail down to the nape of his neck and linger, sending a pulse of grace through his tired muscles. Dean sighs, melting under the touch.

Nights at crappy motels used to be nothing new, nothing special. But here and now, he wouldn’t ask for anything else.

— writing tag list (ask to be added or removed)

@deanolantern @adammlligan @alex-is-a-boy-b-tch @bixlasagna @blue-eyed-cutiepatootie @butchnatural @castiel-for-lunch @castiel-is-a-cat @castielfolklore @castielsbeeslippers @nightmaredean @skelington-cas @deanwinchesteradjacent @destieldisaster @destielfactory @donestiel @donvex @dstiel @ensignabby @expectingtofly @feraladoration @fireghost-x @galaxies-of-the-heart @galaxycastiel @garthedbutspooky @himitsubana @ialwaysordericedcoffee @im-sam-fucking-winchester @lalisfandoms @lateral-org @llamasdumpsterfire @witchdean @mrswatermelon @ne8ula @nightandwinedestieljail @okamigamer1 @organicpurplepants @prime-catra @ragingdeansexual @starsdahb @pumpkinspicedeancas @takemetotheworld @tearsofgrace @top13zepptraxx @van-dynex @winchester-novak @wormstacheangel @writtenmemxries @zeffiroh

[angelfishofthelord]

thank you for tagging me @expectingtofly and @slipper007 !!

favorite color: purple and black

currently reading: the book of images by rainer maria rilke

last song: two by sleeping at last

last series: baby (2018) only watched s1 tho

last movie: lorelei (2020)

sweet, savoury, or spicy: savoury

craving: buttered toast and scrambled eggs

tea or coffee: tea if it's iced with sugar

currently working on: my fiction piece for writing workshop next tuesday darn it i haven't even started writing anything yet

tagging @featherasscas @friendlyneighborhoodheretic @thenightwemetnatural @saint-raphael @bradygirlbloodfreak @inkofemrys

[dothwrites]

@expectingtofly, so are we!

Our latest collab came around, as they often do, when we were dicking around, and one of us said “hey wouldn’t it be cool if...” and the other one said, “HELL YEAH IT WOULD.” 

Collaborating with @friendofcarlotta is a delight. i would never have thought that i would be able to write a 200k+ fic with someone else, but here we are, having just finished Those Who Favor Fire, as well as Keep Your Love Alive. Coming up with ways to torture readers is one of our favorite pastimes. ❤️ Our newest fic will most definitely torture people, but also provide some sweet scenes and some good lovings. Dean and Cas fighting through mind control to discover free will and their love for each other? sign us up!

(shhhhh, don’t tell her, but basically, i’m in awe of @friendofcarlotta​ and how her mind works.)

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

First Line Tag Game

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

tagged by @nickelkeep! thank you nickel, love you and your writing <3 and here goes!!!

1. Learning to be Me (destiel, wc: 2.4k) - Dean hears a flump from the direction of the bedroom right as he finishes shaving his left cheek. "Cas?"

2. sam winchester's family, circa 2030 (gen*, minor saileen, wc: 1.3k) - There's traits you have that your kids inherit, and traits you have that they don't.

*not romance/pairing focused

3. "I am Dean Winchester's husband." (destiel, wc: 500) - “That’s it.”

4. four more hours (sastiel, wc: 1.3k) - Sam wakes up to a sensation of closeness, warmth, and the unfamiliar feeling of fingers stroking his hair - a combination that would’ve lulled him back to sleep immediately had a voice not interrupted his gentle reverie.

5. will you be my last words? (destiel, wc: 2.6k) - It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

6. right here, right now (destiel, wc: 1.5k) - Dean's pretty sure it all comes down to being Sam's fault.

7. Profound Cravings (destiel, wc: 3.8k) - “Dude.” Sam sounds incredulous, terrified and pissed off at the same time at his end of the line, 'cause Dean’s awesome like that. “Don't make me call Cas.”

8. To the end of the aisle and beyond (saileen, wc: 1.8k) - Most days of the year, Sam's the optimist.

9. through the kitchen window (destiel, wc: 2.4k) - "It's happening."

10. cardigans and a happy ending (destiel, wc: 1.1k) - "Cas?" Dean knocks once and opens the door a little, only enough for him to stick his head through.

11. Peanut Butter Texts (destiel, wc: 1.8k) - Cas isn’t a serial texter.

12. and a very Silent Night to you too (destiel, wc: 1.2k) - “It could be worse.” Sam repeats.

13. Caroling in May (gen, minor destiel, wc: 2.6k) - After Chuck’s defeated, Billie’s gone, and the Empty's been bargained with - semantics, the Winchesters would say if you asked one of them to elaborate - into returning Cas in exchange for eternal sleep, there’s peace.

14. The Fathers, The Son and the Holy Cereal (gen, minor destiel, wc: 741) - Sam had just been going to get a glass of water when he hears a strange sound in the kitchen.

15. a little more yours today (destiel, wc: 750) - Footsteps approach the kitchen, and Dean Winchester turns back to the stove with a widening smile.

16. The Great Elf Tragedy (gen, minor destiel, wc: 1.2k) - “Dude, I swear.”

17. dreamers and dumbasses (destiel, wc: 350) - Dean kisses Castiel with a millionth of the intensity that he marches towards him with, or that pierces through Castiel seeing tears in his eyes.

18. lover taken, lover gone (destiel, wc: 500) - dean's still in room 7B, folded into himself against a wall, when sam and jack find him.

19. somedays he loved us (gen, minor destiel, wc: 1.2k) - Jack’s waiting in the corridor when Dean comes out of room 7B, followed by an exhausted looking Sam.

20. Be Mine, This Quarantine (destiel, wc: 5103, incomplete) - "Dude." Dean scrubs his face with a hand while the other one holds the phone. "I haven't even been able to ask this guy out to dinner, and you're asking me to ask him to go into isolation with me?"

and done! that was really fun actually :D

I'm tagging @irrlicht-ghostfront @friendshapedcastiel @chaoticdean @one-more-offbeat-anthem @seffersonjtarship @wormstacheangel @petrichoravellichor @starrynightdeancas @paper-lilypie @sinnabonka @rambleoncas and @expectingtofly! no pressure, of course :) but I hope you have fun too!