#destiel burger date | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sittingbesideyoulikeasilhouette · 7 months

Text

Desolate

There is no heterosexual explanation for the many stolen glances between Dean and Cas over the course of 11 seasons, so this piece is me dipping my toes into Destiel territory. This is a season 15 fix-it. This is angsty with mentions of death and mourning. I'm thinking of having this be the set-up for an actual story but I want to see if people are interested!

Pairing: Dean x Cas

TW: death, loss, violence (Dean punches Sammy), grief

If you would like me to continue this please let me know in the comments!!

It happened 7 days after they’d defeated Chuck and Jack was assimilating into his new role. God. Capital G-O-D. His surrogate son was God and even though Dean knew that Jack would make a better god than Chuck ever had, he’d miss him. It seemed like that’s all he was going to be doing for the rest of his life, missing Jack.

Missing Cas.

He fucking hates himself for not saying it back. It would have been so easy; it’s been weighing heavy on his heart for years. I love you too. But what he’d said instead was “Don’t do this, Cas” and he will never be able to forgive himself. The first time he’d almost told Cas he loved him had been years ago, at the crypt, when Naomi was controlling Cas and he’d nearly killed Dean. Beaten, bloodied and on his knees, he’d almost said it. I love you, Cas. But instead, he said “I need you, Cas.” Both were true but Cas didn’t truly understand just how much Dean needed him. He can’t blame anyone but himself, honestly, because how in the hell would Cas know he loved him? He buried his feeling under cheap booze and women, and he always made it clear that he wasn’t gay. Which, truly, Dean didn’t think of himself as gay; sure, he thought some men were attractive, but he’d never had the desire to be with a man the way he did with Cas, he didn’t gravitate around them and let himself be consumed by their orbit. Cas had been it; he was the one that made Dean feel like maybe love didn’t have a gender or an expiration date, but he was too fucking stubborn to let himself have it. He was too scared to love and to be loved. And now it’s too late. He’s alone. Cas is dead.

Sam knew but he didn’t, tried to help you he couldn’t. Sam saw the bags under his eyes and the number of empty, scattered bottles in Dean’s room was excessive, even for him. Sam knew Cas was his best friend and he knew he was mourning him in a way he never had when he died before. His death seemed so final this team that Dean didn’t dare hope that he might be able to come back. Sam tried cheering him up, he really did, hey you want to go for a drive? We can listen to Metallica’s entire discography or hey Meat Man, how about some burgers? had been the last two attempts made by Sammy, one this morning and the other at lunch. Sounds like fun, maybe some other time okay, Sammy? and I’m not hungry, maybe tomorrow? Had been his replies and Sam smiled, nodded, and let him be. So, there he was, wallowing in his bed, when Sam walked in a couple of hours later.

“Hey man, I’m heading out to get some groceries. We’re making burgers tonight.”

Dean was tired, so bone-achingly tired, so he didn’t argue.

“Sounds good, Sammy.”

As Sam was turning to leave Dean called out.

“Don’t forget the beer. Grab 2 packs.”

“No, I’m not grabbing any beer,” Sam said, turning back to look at him.

“Sam, stop, we always drink beer. This is no different.” Dean said sitting up in bed and looking his brother in the eyes.

“This is entirely different, Dean. This situation could not be further from anything we have ever experienced before. You are drinking yourself to death, man. You need to stop.”

“You don’t know what I need, Sam. Go and get the damn groceries and some fucking beer!” Dean yelled and Sam looked hurt, but he wouldn’t budge. Dean got up and walked slowly over to him until he was standing right in front of him.

“Do it or I’ll go myself, Sam.”

“Dean, stop,” Sam pleaded, looking down at him with tears in his eyes, “I know you miss him bu-“ the rest of Sam’s sentence went unfinished as Dean’s right fist connected with Sam’s jaw and he fell backwards out into the hallway.

Dean looks down at his brother and knows he should apologize. Help him get up and apologize, he told himself, but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything except tower over him. The rage felt warranted, and it made him feel alive for a second. Sam got to his feet and stared at his brother; there was no anger in his eyes and that made Dean want to punch him again.

“If punching me makes you feel better, then keep taking swings, Dean,” Sam’s voice didn’t waver, and it held no trace of resentment. Dean was sure Sam would let him beat him bloody if it meant he’d stop drinking and feel anything other than sadness over Cas. Dean considered it, he fucking considered continuing to beat the crap out his brother for no other reason other than he could, Sam told him he could, but there was a deafeningly loud boom and a subsequent clatter coming from the foyer than made them both immediately look down the hallway. Other than the noise, the red lights hadn’t come on and the alarm hadn’t gone off. What the hell was strong enough to break into the bunker without setting any of the warding off? Dean ran into his room, grabbed two guns and knives, and handed a pair to his brother. They walked side by side, eerily quiet, down to the foyer. Sam put a hand on Dean’s chest to stop him just before they turned the corner. Sam pointed to himself then signaled to the foyer in two quick motions. I’ll go first. Dean nodded and mouthed, I’ll cover you. As soon as Sam turned the corner, Dean saw a look of fear written all over his face, but he lowered his weapons anyway. What the hell was Sam looking at? Dean turned the corner behind Sam, gun pointed and knife ready, but the second he laid eyes on him, he felt like all the air had been punched out of his lungs.

“Cas?” Sam whispered and Dean dropped his weapons in a clatter at his feet.

There he was, just as Dean remembered him from a week ago. The only differences were that this Cas wasn’t scared, he wasn’t crying, or making deathbed love declarations. He was standing in front of him and Sam, wearing his trademark trench coat and a slight ever-confused look in his eyes. Dean knew that they should check, throw salt, holy water, silver, and a battery of other tests but what he did instead was shove Sam out of the way and head straight to Cas. Dean threw his arms around Cas’ neck and buried his hands in his hair. He felt Cas hug him back, almost instinctively, but instead of the usual arms around the torso, he placed his hands at Dean’s waist and pulled him closer. They stayed like that for what felt like hours, he could hear Sam sniffling from behind them and it suddenly made him realize he was crying.

“Shh I’m here, Dean, it’s okay. I’m here” he heard Cas whisper in his ear and felt his hands rubbing circles into the small of his back and he wanted nothing more than to stay like this forever.

After a few seconds Dean pulled back slightly, finally looking into Cas’ blues and for a second he thought of all the things hidden in the color – sapphires, the ocean after tempest, the sky after a rainy day, Dean’s favorite toy car that his mom and dad had gifted him on his third birthday and that he still had hidden away in his nightstand – he kept his arms around Cas’ neck but asked the question he knew was also on Sam’s mind.

“How?” he breathed, and Cas smiled. He removed his left hand from Dean’s waist and plunged it into one of the many pockets of his trench coat. He pulled out a small, neatly folded piece of paper. Fighting against the part of his brain urging him to keep holding onto Cas because the universe was cruel and he might disappear if he let go, Dean dropped his arms from Cas’ neck, took the piece of paper, and walked back over to Sam who was looking at him expectantly. Once he was next to him, he held the note in front of them and opened it:

I’m hands off starting now.

- Love, Jack.

#dean winchester x castiel #destiel #dean winchester fanfiction #castiel fanfiction #dean winchester smut #castiel smut #dean winchester fluff #castiel fluff #supernatural #supernatural fic #dean winchester fic #dean x castiel #sam winchester #Sam is the best little brother #jack kline

40 notes · View notes

awakenthemusic · 8 months

Text

Inspired

Summary:

Tags: Short fic, ~1,600 words, Destiel, Fluff

For Suptober 2023 Day 3 - Inspired

Under the cut or on Ao3

Dean grit his teeth as the bunker door once again screeched shut behind Cas.

Everything was fine.

Cas was just going… somewhere he wouldn’t say, to do... something he wouldn’t talk about, for several hours while Dean was left at home wondering what the hell was going on… again.

Dean had thought they were doing well. They’d cleared the air after Cas came back, everyone said what they needed to say, and the two of them had been… dating, or whatever you want to call it... ever since.

Then, a couple of months ago, everything had changed.

Well, not everything. He and Cas still shared a bed, Cas was just as affectionate as ever, and they still snuggled up close enough to make Sam roll his eyes during movie nights. But twice a week, every week, Cas walked out the bunker door for hours at a shot, alone, and refused to talk about where he went or what he was doing.

Dean had tried not to let it worry him, he really had.

After all, there was zero chance that Cas was fooling around on him. Dean trusted Cas completely, he just didn’t like being left out of the loop.

Sam was no help at all. When Dean had tried to talk to him about it, Sam had just shrugged and said, “Dude’s got his own life, that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

And it was. Of course it was. Cas should feel free to leave whenever he wanted and go into town. Hell, now that he’d got his wings back, he could go pretty much anywhere in the world in the blink of an eye.

Dean tried not to think about that option too often; it made him break out in a cold sweat. He shook his head and started pulling out the ingredients for burgers, absolutely refusing to examine the need to make Cas’ favorite food nearly every time Cas went on one of his mystery jaunts.

Dean stabbed his fingers into the raw beef chuck harder than necessary, viciously tearing into it and working the spices deeper. Just focus on makin’ dinner, He told himself. Cas is always back in time for dinner.

—————

Cas wasn’t back in time for dinner.

Dean sat alone in the library, whiskey tumbler held loosely in one hand and his phone in the other. One, lone text from about 10pm glowed up at him from the screen.

Running late. Don’t wait up.

The words mocked him now, over three hours later, as he sat in the dim light and tried not to feel like an idiot. Everything is fine. Cas is an adult. Better than that, he’s an angel, he can take care of himself. He’ll come home when he damn well wants to…

A few minutes later, the bunker door finally screeched open and the wave of relief that washed over Dean at the sound highlighted exactly how little he’d believed his own bullshit.

Dean stepped into the war room just in time to see Cas sneaking down the stairs, a large wooden box clasped tight in his hands. “Hey, Cas.”

Cas jerked, nearly losing hold of the box, then met Dean’s eyes with a guilty look. “Dean! You um… You waited up, you really didn’t have to do that.”

Cas shuffled awkwardly, moving like he was trying to hide the box, which, considering the thing was at least two feet square and Cas was trapped without cover in the middle of the iron work stairs, would have been comical in any other circumstances.

Dean’s heart sank. First, Cas was staying out later and later; now, he was hiding things? He said, “Look, man, I know you’ve got your…” he gestured vaguely at the box and the door Cas kept walking out of, “Stuff you’ve got going on, and if you don’t want to tell me about where you’re going, or whatever the hell’s in that box you don’t want me to see, that’s fine. Well, it’s not really... it’s whatever, I guess.”

Cas opened his mouth to say something, but Dean steamrolled right over him.

“I’m doing my best to give you your ‘space’ or whatever, but if you’re going to be six hours late for dinner, I’m gonna need more than a five-word text message.”

Cas stared blankly at Dean for a long moment before light dawned. “Oh no, that’s not…” He rushed down the stairs and set the box down on the map table. “That’s… I don’t want space, Dean, I just…” He glanced at the box as though arguing with himself about something. “I do not want space,” He said firmly, turning back to Dean.

Dean nodded, some of the tension draining from his aching shoulders at the certainty in Cas’ voice. “Okay, then whatever this is, we can work through it, but you gotta talk to me, man.”

Cas abruptly stilled. Some emotion crinkled up the corners of his eyes and he said softly, “Oh, my love. I had no idea I was worrying you so much.”

Dean squirmed. On the one hand, he loved when Cas called him that, the one word that Dean had struggled to say for so long tripping from Cas’ mouth like Dean was its purest embodiment. On the other hand, an entire lifetime of instincts screamed at him that he was being too demanding, a burden, and he should have hidden his feelings better. He ducked his head, fighting the need to make a joke and pretend nothing was wrong.

Cas, who knew him too damn well, was having none of it. He crooked a finger under Dean’s chin and gently lifted until he could stare straight through Dean’s eyes down to his soul. “Dean,” Cas said, quietly enough that Dean had to lean in a little to make sure he didn’t miss anything Cas said. “I love you more than words can ever express. If I could, I would spend every moment by your side for all eternity. I did not mean to worry you, but I see that I have, and for that I’m sorry.”

Dean fought the urge to hide his face again as his cheeks burned red.

Cas said, “I wanted so badly to make you something special for tomorrow, I didn’t think about how it would appear from your point of view.”

Dean frowned, doing the mental math on the date and coming up dry. It wasn’t his birthday, wasn’t Valentine’s or any other sappy made-up holiday for people who were… it wasn’t Valentine’s. It wasn’t their anniversary… and fuck if Dean wasn’t still getting used to the fact that they had a fucking anniversary. Biting the bullet and ready to admit he was a terrible person for not remembering, he cleared his throat and asked, “What’s tomorrow?”

Now Cas was the one who looked nervous. “Well, it’s not anything really. I just wanted… you said I should find a hobby now that we’re not hunting so much anymore, and I…” Cas turned back around, one hand playing with the clasps holding the lid on the box he’d brought home, cleared his throat, and said, “I made you something for our six-month anniversary.”

Warmth flowed into Dean’s chest, both at the realization that Cas cared enough about their relationship that he was tracking their anniversary by month and at Cas’ clear nerves explaining that he was tracking it that closely. “Six whole months, huh?” A huge grin took over his face and he bumped Cas’ shoulder as he teased, “You big sap.”

Cas relaxed into a matching grin before he said knowingly, “Well, if you don’t want it—”

“Shut up, ‘course I do.” Dean grinned even wider. “You know, Cas, it’s after midnight already so… technically…”

Cas’ smirk didn’t do much to hide his excitement. “Alright, let me just…” Cas glanced around the room with his strategizing face on. “Okay, close your eyes for a minute.”

Dean nodded, scrunching his eyes closed. He listened intently to the sounds of Cas opening the box and pulling out a truly impressive amount of what sounded like crumpled-up newspaper, before something landed on top of the map table with a heavy thunk.

There was a bit more shuffling around, then Cas said, “Alright, open your eyes.”

There, glowing on top of the map table’s bright light stood a blown-glass sculpture. The center of the sculpture was human-shaped, with a cloud of delicate, twisting strands of glass twirling around it like translucent cotton candy. It seemed almost like it was a living, breathing thing as its mesmerizing swirls of colored glass shot through with gold dust caught and reflected the glow from the table.

Dean stared, completely transfixed.

“It’s not perfect,” Cas said, nervously fiddling with the remains of the packing materials. “The color’s not quite right, and I would have liked to get the outer strands thinner, but glass is an imperfect medium—”

Dean cut Cas off with an awed, “It’s beautiful.”

Cas let out a relieved breath and smiled down at the sculpture. “Yes. It’s you.”

Dean stared at Cas, dumbfounded.

Cas continued, “It’s your soul. As I said, it’s not perfect, there’s no way to truly capture the magnificence of your soul in any crude materials of the earthly plane, but, it’s close.” He darted a shy look at Dean. “I wanted you to see how beautiful you are to me, just in case you ever doubt… well, just in case.”

“Shut up,” Dean whispered reflexively, his cheeks so hot you could fry an egg on them, Looney Tunes style. He grabbed Cas, yanking him in for a kiss, mumbling a quick, “Love you,” against Cas’ lips.

#suptober23 #destiel #fanfic #fanfiction #spn #supernatural #myfics

42 notes · View notes

youchangedmedestiel · 5 months

Text

I haven't got the time to work on my fics lately, especially last week. I was busy and my brain couldn't focus on that. So I didn't even write a single word. And I miss it. Fortunately, next week will be calmer so I'll be able to.

In the meantime, if you didn't get the chance to read those, here are the last 6 fanfics I wrote (every fics are based on canon with little changes obviously), each link is on the titles:

SMUT

Thanked as deserved: Post 15x19

Castiel stays at the bunker, while Sam and Eileen go to hunt what happens to be a new kind of wraith. And Dean goes to work on his own werewolf case alone, he needs time to think now that Cas is back from the Empty. When he comes back from the hunt, he has a small cut on his cheek and his muscles are sore, Castiel offers to take care of the last one and thanks him for saving people, saving the world, like he deserves it. He doesn’t just massage his back.

Inspiring Fanfiction: Post 10x05, I updated this one with a 2nd smutty chapter

Dean discovers fanfics about Destiel, thanks to Marie, the high school girl that directed the show about their lives. She sent him some fic links to read, when she saw his reaction about Destiel. That’s how Dean ends up reading the one fiction that disturbs him in a way he couldn’t have imagine. And then I have to face Cas at some point.

NO SMUT

A gift to listen and keep: If you're still in a Christmas mood. Post 12x14, famous mixtape mentioned.

The brothers are back on good terms with their mother after the Alpha vampire was killed by Sam at the British Men of Letters' headquarters. Dean forgave her for working with them. He got scared of losing her again. Plus he - they - almost lost Cas not so long ago. So he decided that those reasons, and his mother being back from the dead should be good enough to celebrate Christmas this year.

Need for comfort: 14x08

Jack just died. Sam leaves the kitchen first after their drinking session to mourn Jack together as a family, leaving Dean and Cas alone. They drink a little bit more, just the two of them. Then Cas decides to leave the kitchen, but Dean calls him once he is in the hallway. The angel turns around and comes back to Dean.

There is nothing stupid about you and me: 10x09

Dean and Cas are on their burger date while Sam searches on how to find Claire. They talk about the Mark, but their conversation doesn’t just stop there like on the show. Instead, Dean tells Cas about the high school kids’ show about their lives, based on Chuck’s books, Sam and he attended to. He even mentions Marie and her view on Cas and Dean’s relationship, allowing him to know how Cas feels about it.

Healing guilt: Post 11x03

Dean refuses to be healed by Cas, after Cas beat him when he was under Rowena’s dog spell, because he feels guilty about almost killing Cas when he had the Mark of Cain. But Cas thinks about a plan to heal him anyway without Dean knowing.

12 notes · View notes

hintsofhoney · 1 year

Text

Take Me Out to the Ballgame

Pairing(s): Dean Winchester x Castiel

Summary: Dean takes Cas out to a ballgame. The Kiss Cam shows them no mercy.

Tags: 16+, baseball game, kissing, fuffy fluff fluff

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Inspired by a TikTok I saw. Beta’d by my angels @wayward-dreamer and @makeadealwithdean. That pretty much covers it.

You can also read me on Ao3!

DESTIEL MASTERLIST | SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

Having Cas back didn’t feel real. Losing him hadn’t felt real either, but Dean never had to remind himself that he was gone when he had been in the empty — now he had to pinch himself every five minutes to make sure that Cas wasn’t a hallucination. Now it didn’t feel real in a good way, instead of not feeling real in a drinking-himself-into-oblivion-on-the-library-floor way.

What Cas had confessed that night almost a year ago still hasn’t been talked about. Dean didn’t know how to bring it up. He didn’t know how to tell the angel that all he’d been wanting to do since Jack brought him back was kiss him stupid and never let him out of his sight again. So, Dean opts for dates, because he’s not good with his words. Besides, isn’t Cas supposed to be able to read his mind anyway?

Dean doesn’t call them dates — not out loud, anyway — but they’re all intricately planned out with the intention to introduce Cas to all the behind-the-scenes things that Dean loves while also teaching him how to have fun the human way. Dean’s got interests besides hunting monsters, you know. And that wasn’t even an itch he was tempted to scratch anymore. Not since they got Cas back.

The first not-date was a trip to the ice cream shop in town. Dean got chocolate chip and Cas got strawberry, and they sat outside and talked about all the things Cas had missed in the six months that he’d been gone. The second was mini-golf, where Cas had asked if it was “the game that Claire beat you in?” to which Dean had to deny even though he knew Cas knew he was lying through his teeth — he had watched Claire text him the score card that night. A week after mini-golf was a movie night, where Cas didn’t complain once about Dean making him watch Tombstone again. The fourth not-date was at Dean’s favorite burger joint, where he happily listened to Cas chastise him about how bad greasy food was for your cholesterol, because it was Cas sitting across from him and not the empty seat he had gotten used to for half a year.

Today is not-date number five, and it’s the one Dean is most excited about. Admittedly, it‘s been years since he’s been to a baseball game. He went to a few after Adam had admitted that John had taken him to one when he was a kid, maybe to prove to himself that he didn’t need his dad to make childhood dreams come true, or maybe because he had been hoping that his dad could see him somehow, happy without him. Either way, he ended up enjoying it quite thoroughly. The environment more so than the game, and the food more so than the environment — but he’s excited to introduce Cas to it all. Cas, on the other hand, hasn’t got a clue as to why humans are so interested in watching people hit balls with bats and run around in circles — but he’s happy to be wherever Dean is.

“Here you go, buddy,” Dean grunts as he takes a seat next to the angel, handing him a hot dog while he places his nachos in his lap.

“Thank you,” Cas replies, staring at the food. He had made the mistake of telling Dean that his burgers had tasted good a few days after he was brought back, when in reality he was just being nice and everything still tasted like molecules. He didn’t have the heart to tell Dean otherwise, though. Not when he was so excited to introduce Cas to so many new foods.

“Alright,” Dean begins, mouth full of nachos, “that’s home base.” He points to a white plate on the field, and Cas has to squint to make out which one he’s referring to. “The one closest to us,” Dean explains, noticing Cas’s confusion. “And then going counter-clockwise, it’s first base, second base, and third base. You get points by…”

By the end of Dean’s explanation, Cas is certain he could go out there and play the game himself. “I think I understand,” he states. “So when does it begin?”

Dean snorted a laugh, nearly choking on his beer. “Dude, it’s been going for like an hour.”

“Oh. It isn’t very exciting, then.”

“It never is until the end.”

It’s the end of the sixth inning, and Cas feels like he’s never sat through anything longer in his life. He supposes it is getting slightly more exciting, as the scores are close and the crowd is starting to care more, but he still doesn’t understand why people willingly sit through this. Not that he minds — as long as Dean is happy. Right now they’re playing the latest pop song and showing audience members dancing on the jumbo screen hanging above the field, and Dean laughs at a little boy who couldn’t be more than ten doing a dance called “flossing”. Cas only knows what it’s called because Jack was very proud of himself when he learned it, and attempted to teach everyone in the bunker — unsuccessfully.

“Remember when Jack —”

“Almost had me dislocate my hip trying to learn that shit? Yeah. I had to hear about it from Sam for fuckin’ weeks.”

“I thought it was very nice of you to indulge him, Dean. I never took you for the dancing type.”

Dean tries to hide the blush creeping up in his cheeks from the compliment. “Yeah, well, if I wasn’t before, I’m definitely not now. Hip’s still sore.”

Cas smiles and looks back up to the screen, surprised to see two crowd members kissing. He furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “Kiss cam?” he reads the hot pink font at the bottom of the screen.

Dean looks up from his second helping of nachos. “Oh, yeah. Kiss cam,” he repeats, as if that explains everything. Cas blinks at him. He sighs. “When the camera lands on you, you’re supposed to kiss. It’s like a staple baseball game thing. Spreading the love or whatever.”

“And what if the person you are seated next to is not a significant other?”

“Then it’s really awkward,” Dean chuckles, trying to imagine what he’d do if the kiss cam landed on him and Cas. Not that he was hoping for it or anything, but maybe it’d be his chance to —

“Oh, yes,” Cas interrupts his thoughts. “I suppose this is awkward.”

Dean’s mortified. He blinks a few times, making sure that it’s really his face up there next to Cas’s. There’s no mistaking the lumberjack flannel and tan trench coat staring back at him, and he’s not sure what to do. Of course he wants to kiss Cas. But here? Now? His throat is dry as he looks over to the angel and laughs awkwardly, his hand waving off the camera — no, fuck, why is he doing that? He should kiss him — he should grab Cas by the collar and fucking kiss him because this is the perfect excuse. But he’s too slow, and the camera moves on.

They sit in silence for a few moments, Dean glancing at Cas, Cas intently watching the screen. Maybe if he watched it hard enough the camera would come back to them. Maybe Cas could finally finish what he had started to say all those months ago, before he was taken. Maybe he could finally do what he wanted to do that night. Maybe —

Now his throat is dry as he sees himself on the screen again. His eyes grow wide as he looks over to Dean, who’s staring at the jumbotron with his mouth slightly agape.

Dean risks a side-eye over at Cas. He can hear the crowd chanting “kiss, kiss, kiss”, although everything is muffled. He turns his head, and fully looks at Cas, who seems expectant, almost. Okay, so he’s cool with Dean kissing him. Is he cool with Dean kissing him? Don’t overthink it, you moron.

Cas licks his lips instinctively, because God, Dean’s right there. But he can’t bring himself to do it. Does Dean even want this?

The camera moves on again. They’re brought back to reality by the disappointed groans from the crowd. Dean’s red in the face, scratching his neck awkwardly. Cas looks back to the screen, because he doesn’t know where else to look. Dean follows his lead and then — shit — there’s his face again.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

It’s loud in his ears now, and he pushes every last doubt to the back of his mind as he turns to face Cas. He asks what he needs to with a tilt of his head, and Cas replies with a nod, and then Dean’s reaching for the collar of his trenchcoat and pulling him forward, and he’s finally kissing him the way he’s wanted to for months. For years, really.

Cas’s hands come to cup Dean’s face, and the crowd is going crazy, reminding the two of them that they are, in fact, being watched by thousands of people. Millions, probably, if the people watching at home count. And the best part of it all is that Dean doesn’t care. He doesn’t care who’s watching, because he’s kissing the man he loves and Cas’s lips are soft and Dean’s nerves are gone and everything feels right.

They don’t stay for the seventh inning.

TAGLIST(S)

If you signed up for my taglist but don’t see your name below, it’s because Tumblr won’t let me tag you!

FOREVERS: @writercole // @makeadealwithdean // @slamminmine // @spn-fanfic-reblog-writes // @impala1967dwinchester // @wayward-dreamer // @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan // @deandreamernp // @kitkatd7 // @thewritersaddiction // @foxyjwls007 // @kyjey // @boeshaneboy // @besas-stuff

You can join my taglist(s) here!

#destiel #destiel fanfiction #dean winchester x castiel #destiel fluff

58 notes · View notes

immortal-rice · 7 months

Text

the emotions this fic conveys express the nov 5th mood quite well

#spn #supernatural #destiel #nov 5th #crack fic #destiel crack

0 notes

dessertbird · 11 months

Text

Daily Destiel 💙💚

😍😍❤️❤️

#Destiel #deancas #destiel is canon #their love is real #burger date #coffee date #😍😍❤️❤️

28 notes · View notes

naruhearts · 5 years

Text

14x11 Thoughts, Destiel, & 10x09

(copy-paste from Twitter)

- - - -

So I finally got around to watching this week’s ep — the whole thing — and it was...okay. I don’t think it packed super good characteristic/emotional punches like we’ve seen in recent weeks but it definitely spoke to Dean’s long-running low depressive self-worth (and ever-increasing queer Dean subtext via Michael’s closet!box and 14x10 closet!mind).

What stood out to me was the absence of Cas: no mention of him or Jack. And I don’t know if I should take that as solid or sloppy negative space placement by Perez or what, but there were callbacks/reduxes to Dean’s MoC arc — specifically 10x09.

Interestingly, it seemed like the infamous D/C burger date was reflected by Dean and Donna the Dean mirror’s burger meetup, with both scenarios unfolding in the same narrative context of Dean’s self-sacrificial worthlessness-induced Bad Decisions™ that altogether served as some kind of contrast for platonic vs familial vs romantic interpersonal dynamics.

In 10x09 Sam was also deceived by his brother — observe the visual Dark vs Light difference of both settings — in that Dean obviously wasn’t fine but he still cooked for him (he cooks with Mary in 14x11 as well)/successfully tricked Sam into thinking all is well. Afterwards, Dean went on his heavily Dabb romance-coded burger date with Cas.

In sombre-coloured 14x11 Sam knew Dean was visibly off, whereas Cas is...nowhere to be heard, seen, found. Dean doesn’t mention him at all either, and again I don’t know if that was just some weird lapse in writing consistency, but Perez probably intended to convey the primary negative space: that Dean can be stopped by his lover-coded best friend Cas who, indeed, won’t talk Dean out of his plan like Sam can, but would drill through the box and metaphorically/literally yank Dean out — grip him tight and raise him again from proverbial Perdition (Dean’s metaphorical/literal burial directly ties back to Lazarus Rising, and well, this is what cyclic S14’s thematically highlighted generally all season so far: the old beginning and new beginning of Dean’s first rebirth) aka Dean knew that Cas, like in 10x09, would call him out on his bluff asap. Dean knew that Cas saying “No, you’re not [fine]” could break his free resolve to go through with his self-punishing World Saving scheme.

Dean knows that Cas finding out would stop him in his tracks, because he can’t bear to feel like he’s failing him, but that’s the rub of the episode’s characteristic premise isn’t it? Dean’s Hiding-to-Protect-My-Family is paradoxically counterproductive - he’s failing them, and he’s always internalized that saying goodbye before marching off to his own death isn’t a commonality but a rarity. He almost got away with not telling Sam, and we’ll see how Cas finds out next ep (Sam’s “secret sick farewell tour” comment was accurate). I mean, these are the only logical points I can think of in terms of almost unequivocally Cas-less dialogue (seriously, where’d he go?) UNLESS, like I said above, Dean’s deliberately and consciously holding back (voila, repressing feelings and words) from bringing Cas to his own awareness so that he has an uninterrupted burial go-ahead.

***Recall that in S10 Cas was unable to follow through with Dean’s intimately-confided wish for Cas to kill him as soon as he fell MoC darkside, anyway. In fact, Dean excluding Cas entirely from his conscious functioning may be his Operation: Burial failsafe to protect his family — to protect Cas — from what could become the 10x22-reminiscent line of Michael’s fire. Yet Cas shall remain by his side. Forever, if need be, precisely because “everyone you know, everyone you love? They could be long dead. Everyone except me.” I’ll-Go-With-You Cas is the one Dean absolutely trusts.

And when Perez relays the Who Am I-linked thematic question of How Are You? Dean says:

(Sigh. This is why you must ‘die’, Dean. Break the remaining shackles of miscommunication and performativity that hinder you from TALKING ABOUT IT, from OPENING UP ABOUT EVERYTHING YOU’VE ALWAYS AVOIDED TALKING ABOUT ESPECIALLY ON THE LOVE AND...LOVE FRONT.)

What I really enjoyed were the overt naked cowboy beefcake posters in Donna’s shed that evoked Dean’s subtextual preference for dark-haired thick-bodied male cowboys a la 13x06 Cas etc. Those men?! Yep, they’re exactly your type too, Dean. Just last episode we observed the biggest Repressed Gay Hits of Dean’s subconscious/Michael’s dream construct, poised to nudge at the walls of text. Here, Dean got, uh, pretty distracted for a few seconds until he remembered that he had to “die” (literally locking himself up in his closet!box with naked Cas-representative men surrounding him and oh boy more 4x01 sparks flew during the closet!box building process: meta in meta) but I digress—

Overall 14x11 isn’t one of my faves. Dean basically revealed, more or less, what was in Billie’s Single Win endgame book, and it seemingly overhauled the very notion of Free Will and blank slates that Dean (and TFW) always embodied x. It felt disjointed in certain respects, and I hated that Donna and Mary were DiDs (come on, TPTB, get past the damselized misogyny, in all its veiled and obvious forms). Personally heart-wrenching to me though was Dean’s one-on-one time with Mary (he belittled his cooking abilities by claiming he’s a “terrible cook” *hello low self-worth*) — including his grief-tinged bologna & cheese Winchester Surprise story that almost segued into angry John memories — despite it falling short by missing the mark for true expositional discussion between them re: Dean’s actual feelings (no substantial emotive breakthrough. But yeah, I guess it should make sense that Dean’s regressed to toxic depressive behaviours and maladaptive secrecy before he metaphorically “dies” and is resurrected again).

Rating: 5/10. 6/10 if I’m being generous.

p.s. Donna was trying to ask Dean how he is, but Dean deflected during their burger outing (“Everybody keeps asking me how I am”) —> contrast to Cas seeing through Dean’s walls during burger date. And it’s intriguing that Doug comes up in conversation; her split with Doug — who couldn’t integrate into or commit with Donna’s hunting life — still affects her. It’s as if Dean’s ‘splitting up’ with Cas, which, he technically is (temporarily).

I’m sure I might have more thoughts on 14x11 later on, but this is the gist of my summary for now. Feel free to throw your thoughts around, peeps!!

And by the way, 14x12 promo has Cas saying “Stop with your suicidal plans” to whom I’m assuming is Dean. I just hope next week explains what happened to 14x11’s narrative cohesiveness at least :P

Now I’d like to call on @coinofstone‘s symbolic analysis of the books Dean chose for coffin-building :D

46 notes · View notes

destielle · 4 years

Photo

Boyfriends sharing their left-overs (5x15 / 10x09) (´⌣`ʃƪ)

1K notes · View notes

kneedeepindramaandcocaine · 3 years

Text

Can we all just agree that a midnight screening of a movie is a date. They went on dates.

#destiel #deancas #I am feral about their cowboy movie dates #if someone took me to a midnight screening of a movie I would assume it was a date!!#Dean Winchester dates are midnight screenings burgers in diners and mix tapes #because he is a romantic boy stuck in the 80’s #and I love him #how could you not #how could Cas not??#under that kind of wholesome assault of course Cas was going to fall I love #dean winchester #spn #supernatural #castiel

11 notes · View notes

deancasbigbang · 3 years

Text

Title: Half Empty

Author: sinnabonka

Artist: varlovian

Rating: Mature

Pairings: Destiel

Length: 30000

Warnings: canon-compliant temporary major character death, canon-typical violence, alcohol, blood, past abuse mention, temporary memory loss

Tags: psychological thriller, case fic if you squint, unreliable narrator, horror undertones, mind games, if you think some small detail matters it most probably does, metaphorical use of original characters for purposes of narrative, angst with a happy ending, fix-it fic

Posting Date: November 12, 2021

Summary: Raging storm, boundless cornfield surging, churning, like an angry ocean crashing its waves over steep shores. Dean comes to in the passenger seat of his car with no memory of what could have possibly brought him to the oddly named bar on the outskirts of the small town in the middle of nowhere. Investigating what first looks like a regular, run-of-the-mill missing people case and trying to bring back memories he’s lost, Dean ends up discovering truth he’d rather remain hidden. Welcome to Half Empty, where nothing is as it seems, and even shadows have secrets of their own.

Excerpt: “We should probably talk about what happened,” Sal starts carefully. “Remember anything? A name? A year?” Dean feels something twitch in the back of his head, as he spins the plate with the burgers mindlessly. “I know who I am,” he says with a huff. “Don’t Momento me just yet.” A memory is fragmented: Rain patient in waking him. Cold touch of glass on his palm. The smell of gasoline. Not puzzles, he realizes, but strips of paper out of a shredder. Lesser than words, just syllables, sounds. “It was dark, couldn’t see shit,” Dean stumbles on the thought, shaking his head. He closes his eyes, marveling at the gleam and shine, finding no real worth in it -- just shards of glass smoothed by the ocean. Unprecious gems. “Headlights were barely enough to see the lines on the road. Happened so fast...” he grabs at his head with another sharp pierce of pain. Growls, “The car started to skid.” He waits through the pain, breathing deep and slow. Outside the storm rages, the roar of the wind disturbingly resembling the one of the beast. Sal’s voice startles him, soft: “What about some ice for your head, hon?” Dean looks through his fingers at her getting up and walking toward the bar, a low rumble of thunder following her like the train of a dress. Rolling through the place, the sound shudders and finally dies among the glasses clinking on the counter. As Sal pulls the fridge door open, Dean’s eyes catch the poster taped to it (“Glass half empty? Just put more vodka in it!”). He picks up his burger and gets a bite of it. It tastes like nothing. With his eyes trained at the front door, he keeps chewing -- waiting for the door to swing open. It doesn’t. \*\*\* The road snakes among hills, endless. There’s turn after turn after turn, each next one bringing nothing but a new shade of black. The headlights cut through the veil of rain like flaming swords, fighting off the evil creeping on both sides of the road. White dotted lines disappear under the hood, like the end credits of an old movie. The one he’ll never grow tired of. “What are we in the mood for?” Dean hears his own voice; distorted, but there can be no mistake. He’s not driving and it never bothered him less, his fingertips running against the backs of cassette tapes in the box in his lap. “Whatever you choose is fine,” comes the second voice, but the sound of it is odd, as if muffed by cotton in his ears. Dean feels his lips curve into a smile, but the joy doesn’t follow. He looks down at the tapes’ names written with a black sharpie, but can’t make out any of them. His hand hovers over one, then moves to another. And when he wants to turn his head to look at the face of the driver -- He can’t.

DCBB 2021 Posting Schedule

#dcbb 2021 #fic preview #2021 promo #deancas #destiel

288 notes · View notes