they had to put cas in that fuck ass hat in tombstone because the writers knew if he wore anything close to this outfit, dean would have presented hole at the crime scene
I know it’s been said before but an iconic, undeniably canon property of Cas' and tangentially of the Destiel dynamic is the “buddy boy you’ve got what they call sex appeal” of it all. I mean it’s always great when humans look at Cas being strange and off-putting and fumbling his way through every single human interaction and go “what a hot endearing guy”, don’t get me wrong. But what I really can’t get enough of is the fact that he also has the angelic equivalent of crazy game which he’s usually only marginally aware of/completely disinterested in save for being generally prideful or using it for tactical purposes. Even more hilarious, the fact that throughout the show the other angels are absolutely fucking fuming about him choosing humans in spite of this.
Because the thing is Cas is already reasonably well regarded amongst angels as a very competent and loyal soldier and then after he falls he just keeps exponentially gaining both a bad reputation and a cult following. He used to be a master tactician. He was around for Heaven’s greatest battles. He’s led two different controversial uprisings. He keeps disobeying God’s word and he’s killed thousands and he might be a little batshit crazy but he’s also just. Kind of a nice dude. He’s Heaven’s most wanted, for better or for worse. Every angel he meets either wants to fucking kill him or drop to their knees and pledge allegiance, which in angel terms pretty much makes him the extremely fuckable guy with a leather jacket and motorcycle in every teen drama.
And then every time the angels do meet him, instead of a host of warriors there’s this pathetic miniscule angry creature bristling and hissing at his side and the angels are like. Castiel. Why is that bacteria speaking to you. And Castiel fierce garrison commander savior of the rebellion war criminal bearer of free will who God Himself resurrected 47482 times gets this horrifying soft misty eyed look on his face and goes “oh no that’s just my bestest friend in the whole world most beautiful incredible lovable person I’ve ever met in my entire millennia-long life. Dean say hi” and the bacteria goes 🙄😒😏 and rattles off the most incomprehensible sentence on God’s green earth and then calls the angels a slur and the angels collectively feel grace leak out their ears
Sam and Dean have to go to a supernatural convention because there's a case in the building they're using to host it. And as much as both of them don't wanna be there, they morally can't leave these fans to die
They get there and it's what they remember. Sams and Deans in pairs, wondering around. Some in groups of 3 with a significant amount of Castiels tailing pairs
They're surprised to see Castiel himself there
Dressed as Dean
With Jack
Dressed as Sam
Awkward eyecontact between all four of them
"Guessing you guys found the same lead as we did" Sam starts, trying not to assume
Cas gives a stiff nod "Yes. A lead. We found one here. Yes"
Jack pipes in "We're 'blending in'"
"Is that my shirt?" Dean points at Cas who pulls his leather jacket closed
For @colorlessjay, whose brainchild BACK TO THE FUTURE spawned a massive following here. I wrote this as an epilogue, of sorts, to wrap up the story and give it a nice little bow. When I sent a DM with the full story, I was met with the above response, so here we are! 🤣
For reference:
Season 6 Dean is narratively referred to as Dean Winchester.
Season 6 Cas is narratively referred to as Castiel.
Season 16 Dean is narratively referred to as just Dean.
Season 16 Cas is narratively referred to as just Cas.
Posted with permission. Any grammatical errors and/or missing plot points are my own.
Enjoy! 😊
Dean woke in the morning to a peculiar smell coming from the kitchen. As he stirred, his senses coming online, he was able to tell that the smell he detected was the sweet smell of his coffee brewing. Confusion set in as he automatically went to feel for the other side of the bed, only to be met with a cold emptiness.
Oh yeah, Dean thought. Other Cas is still here. My Cas is probably still talking to him before they leave.
Castiel had escorted Dean had back to his proper timeline last night, and once everyone was reunited in the bunker, they had all decided to hit the hay. Cas had shown their younger selves to one of the rooms in the bunker, and had returned to what was essentially “their room” in the bunker. They didn’t frequent it as often as they used to, with the Winchester brothers being semi-retired and all, but every so often a hunter would pass through and need a place to crash. Or if there were something major that they got wind of that needed all hands on deck (those incidents were far and few in between now, especially since Jack was the new God and Rowena was ruling Hell with a ruthless iron fist).
Rubbing his eyes in an attempt to wake up more, Dean moved out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom to wash up and brush his teeth. Satisfied that he didn’t look like death warmed over, he made his way to the kitchen, where he was greeted with the sight of both angels and his younger self in conversation.
The sight of seeing a version of himself other than his reflection should’ve been incredibly jarring for Dean, but considering the line of work he was (kind of still) in, it didn’t resonate as much. What was more surprising was the fact that not only were both angels present, his angel looked awake, alert, freshly showered, and presentable…and it was roughly only 9:30 in the morning, according to the clock on the wall that Dean caught a glimpse of. It was a rare occurrence for Cas to beat Dean out of bed, but that didn’t mean it didn’t happen. Even rarer was it for Cas to be out of bed and fully dressed before Dean could even roll over. Dean mentally deduced that present company had forced Cas’s hand in that regard, especially since the younger angel hadn’t properly experienced the “wonders” of basic human behavior.
“Mornin’,” Dean Winchester greeted. “There’s coffee on the counter.”
Dean grunted a “thanks” in response, still a little groggy. As he made towards the counter, he patted Castiel on the shoulder. “Mornin’ Cas.”
“Hello, Dean,” both angels responded, followed by each giving the other a look of confusion.
Dean’s hand stilled where it was reaching for the coffee pot, and spared a look at both angels, both of whom were now fighting a blush. Dean only let out a low chuckle as Dean Winchester said, “In stereo, nice.”
Cas cleared his throat. “We were just talking.”
Dean turned his head to look at his husband. “About…?” he asked with an arched eyebrow.
“Their plans,” Cas answered cryptically. “And what they plan to do when they leave here.”
Dean’s stomach turned over slightly as he processed what Cas was saying. “Cas, I thought we weren’t supposed to—”
“What’s happening on the current season on Dr. Sexy,” Dean Winchester chimed in. “I can’t believe Charlene ends up with Dr. Sexy’s brother.”
“Oh brother, you’ve got a long way to go,” Dean said with a low chuckle as he sipped his coffee. The back of his throat was greeted with a familiar burn that warmed his entire body. Not the way he liked Cas to do it, mind you, but a welcome reprieve nonetheless. “Wait till you find out about the twin.”
“The what now?” Dean Winchester asked, confused.
“Dean,” Cas warned. “You’re spoiling it.”
“Bah, he’ll forget it by the time it gets here,” Dean said nonchalantly, taking another sip..
“I’ve also been discussing the Alpha creatures with my future self,” Castiel mentioned after a beat.
“Yeah, Cas thinks we got something that’ll work. My Cas, that is. We’ll kick those bastards back to kingdom come,” Dean Winchester said.
Dean looked at Cas inquisitively, who merely shrugged in response. Later, Dean heard internally in Cas’s voice. Sometimes Dean genuinely forgot how powerful of an angel Cas really was. To Dean, he always seemed like this dorky little human who found flight patterns of bees interesting. And then there were moments like this, where Dean would be reminded of who he married—usually at the most random of times—via some off-the-cuff throwaway power.
Seriously, how many people could say that they genuinely have a psychic connection with their spouse?
“What, no advice?” Dean Winchester asked, slightly affronted by his older self’s silence. “No word on how to stop this? On what happens next? What happens tomorrow? Could you at least give me the lottery number for tomorrow?” he asked, looking between both Cas and Dean.
Shaken out of his reverie, Dean simply responded, “Kid, even if I knew tomorrow’s numbers, I sure as shit wouldn’t give them to you,” and took another sip of his coffee. “Can’t risk messing up the timeline.”
“Well then, what the hell was the purpose of this goddamn trip?!” Dean Winchester’s voice was starting to climb. “We just wasted a half a week scrambling for crumbs, and you assholes can’t even give us the time of day.”
“Dean, calm down,” Castiel said calmly. “They pointed us in the right direction, and we’re leaving with more than we came with. We have an idea of what we’re up against, and a plan on how to stop it.”
“It sure as hell doesn’t feel like it,” Dean Winchester grumbled. “Feels like we’re being stonewalled ‘cause of Mr. Secretive over there,” he added, gesturing to his older self.
“Ok, ya know what? I didn’t just finish busting my ass covering your ass to get chewed out by your ass,” Dean said, fully annoyed now.
God, was he always this way with everyone?
Setting his cup on the counter, he went to grab a seat across from his younger self. “You want me to tell you the next few years are gonna be full of sunshine and fucking rainbows? Well, they’re not. It’s gonna suck.”
“Dean,” Cas warned.
“Relax, Cas, I got this,” Dean said, holding up a hand to silence his husband. “The truth is you’re gonna say some shit and do some shit that you think is gonna be the right thing to do. And in the moment, it may be. But you better ready to deal with what happens afterwards. Most of it’s gonna suck ass, and you’ll have no one to blame but yourself. And you’ll pray for another chance to do it over—do it differently—and it won’t come. And you’ll be stuck.”
Dean spared a look at Cas before continuing, “Some things are gonna happen that are gonna hurt like hell, and you’re gonna wish that you could change it. Fix it. But the truth is you can’t. You can only deal with it.
“So you want my advice? Think before you act. Don’t go running off with the first hair-brained idea. You’ll be better off for it.” Dean let what he said rest in the air a bit before he added, “Oh, and lay off the beer and burgers a little. And exercise more. Your legs will thank you later. Just don’t let Sammy catch you, or you’ll never hear the end of it.” The last statement was punctuated with a roll of his eyes and a low chuckle from Cas.
Dean Winchester’s jaw clicked ever so slightly, a sign of his growing annoyance. “Really? That’s all? A few cliches and some shitty one liners is all you’ve got?”
“That’s all you’re gonna get,” Dean retorted with an arched eyebrow. “Unless you’d like a black eye and busted lip to take back as a consolation prize.”
“No fighting please,” Cas said. “I would like to keep the kitchen clean if I can help it.”
“Agreed. Besides it’s time for us to go. The spell’s gonna be wearing off soon,” Castiel said, giving Dean Winchester a look as he got up from the table. Dean huffed a “hmph, whatever” under his breath, and rose with him. Clearly the advice he was given was not what he expected, but Dean could see it on his younger self’s face clear as day how enamored he was with Cas. Even then.
Holy shit, Dean thought. Hindsight really is 20/20. I was whipped.
“One more thing,” Dean said, rising from the table along with Cas. Dean spared Cas a look before continuing, “Whatever you guys do, just…talk to each other. Be honest. Don’t hold secrets. Secrets get people killed.” He gave Castiel an intense glare before continuing, “You’re gonna need each other a lot more than you realize going down the road.”
“I can handle myself,” Dean Winchester said gruffly.
“Maybe, but if Cas can help, let him help.” He gave Cas another fond look before eyeing the couple in front of him. “And don’t take him for granted. He means more to you than you know.” Remembering the promise he made, he amended quickly, “They all do. Sammy, Bobby. You’re gonna need them all. Especially with whatever plan you guys end up going with.”
Dean Winchester shifted uneasily at the reminder of their mission, sparing a glance at Castiel before mumbling, “Even Cas?”
“Especially Cas. More than anyone. And that’s okay.” Dean wanted to say it, but knew he couldn’t, so he did his best to try and emphasize it in a way his younger self could understand.
That contrary to what his father had said, it was okay. That it was okay to fall in love.
Shaking his head, as if he found new resolve,
Dean Winchester let out a breath and said, “Yeah, ok. C’mon Cas, let’s get outta here,” and began ushering Castiel towards the exit.
“Good luck,” Cas said, getting up from the table and coming up next to Dean.
“Thank you, both of you, for all your help,”
Castiel responded, shaking hands with both Dean and his future counterpart’s before heading for the exit. “I hope this plan works.”
“Only one way to find out,” Dean said.
As they made their way to the exit, Dean could hear his younger self talking about the texts he had found in the bunker’s library and what that meant. He felt an arm slip around his waist, and automatically leaned into Cas’s embrace. “How badly did we fuck this up?” Dean asked.
“On the contrary, Dean, we gave them exactly what they needed. You especially,” Cas said, stroking Dean’s side.
Dean hummed in appreciation. “Still. Scale of one to ten?”
“Three. The anecdote about the incompetent doctor’s twin brother could’ve been left out of conversation,” Cas said arching an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
Turning to face Cas fully, Dean gave Cas a look as he held up a hand. “Okay, one: Dr. Sexy isn’t incompetent, he’s a damn fine doctor.”
“He’s committed multiple infractions in the workplace, some of which were potentially life-threatening,” Cas shot back.
“You gotta break a few eggs to make an omelet, Cas,” Dean said flatly.
“If his experience as a doctor is any indication, I think he’d be an even worse chef. And that still doesn’t his excuse his morally objectionable behavior.”
“Like what?” Dean asked, making a face at Cas that all but said, Go ahead, Mr. Know-It-All. Prove me wrong.
“Having sex with a subordinate coworker in the storage closet of your place of employment while on shift. And in the middle of a lockdown, no less,” Cas responded archly.
Damn. Got me there. “Alright, you got a point,” Dean conceded with a roll of his eyes. “But it makes for good TV.”
“If you say so,” Cas said mischievously.
Dean squinted his eyes at Cas. Two can play that game. “Fine. Since you’re in such a bitchy mood this morning, see if I make you breakfast,” he said moving towards the opposite end of the kitchen. He could tell that Cas was eyeing him like a hawk, so he donned an air of indifference as he replied nonchalantly, “And here it was I had a taste for French toast too. That honey you made last week would’ve come in handy.”
Before he could react, Dean was spun around and greeted with a pair of lips meeting his as hands moved around his waist to hold him still. His arms automatically wrapped around Cas’s neck in response as he exchanged a passionate kiss with his husband. He wasn’t ashamed to admit it to himself now: he missed this. He’d longed for it while he was gone. Having a younger version of Cas was nice in the beginning, but in the long run, he’d wanted his Cas back. The one who had gone through Heaven, Hell and everything in between to come back to him. He’d wanted Cas like he needed air to breathe.
I guess it really is true.
“What’s true?” Cas asked as they broke apart.
Oh shit. Forgot about that.
“Forgot about what?” Cas asked.
“Nothin’, angel bee,” Dean said with a dopey smile. He stole a quick peck from Cas before adding, “Just missed you, is all.”
“I missed you too, Dean. I am glad you have returned.”
Absence really did make the heart grow fonder.
><><><><><><><><
Castiel was talking as they made their way to the exit, explaining the text they had come across in the library. Dean Winchester could only understand a portion of what he was saying. He figured Sam and Bobby would have a better grasp on this than he would. Maybe the could find a better plan to deal with these bastards. As Castiel continued rambling, Dean Winchester spared another glance back to his older counterparts, and was greeted with the image of his older self wrapped around his Cas’s neck in a very unique position.
heyy could you pls write a sam x reader thing (they’re friends but they’re in love with each other) where sam is in a tight shirt and his biceps js look scrumptious and reader bites his bicep and he’s like extremely cute and confused and reader js says how great his biceps look and he gets all flustered and then they js go back n forth complimenting each other before a kiss n confession and he lets reader squeeze his bicep while he flexes it and he LOVES IT
also (assuming reader is quite a fair bit smaller than sam) like he lowk has a lil size thing bc reader’s hands r smaller than his bicep, it doesn’t have to be in an nsfw way but like if u could add that as a feature that’d be cool (u don’t have to)
but yars, if ur not up to write it that’s completely okay, no pressure!! but if you can then thank youuu🩷🩷
⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 bite-sized problems,
pairing. sam winchester x reader ( f )
wordcount. 579 genre. fluffy fluff
warnings. fluffy mutual pining, bicep biting (yes, it’s adorable), size difference (playful, flustering), sam being bashful but so into it, one (1) first kiss
It starts with the shirt.
A stupid shirt. A basic black tee that somehow fits Sam obscenely well. Like, painted-on well. Like, is-that-illegal-in-some-states well. You’re halfway through watching him pace the bunker library, muttering about lore inconsistencies and smudging graphite onto the pages of his notebook—and all you can look at is the way his sleeves cling to his arms like they're hanging on for dear life.
He reaches for a book on a high shelf.
And that’s it. That’s the final straw.
You’re across the room before your brain can even catch up with your body. You grab his arm, and before you can talk yourself out of it, you lean in and bite his bicep.
Just a little. Just a nibble. A love-chomp.
Sam yelps.
“What the hell?!”
You pull back instantly, blinking. “Sorry! Sorry—I just—” You gesture at his arm helplessly. “They’re just so… there. And I blacked out a little.”
He stares at you. “You bit me.”
“You make it sound like I drew blood,” you mutter. “It was more of a nibble.”
His eyes narrow, but his ears are turning red, so you know he’s not really mad. “Why would you nibble my arm?”
You point at it. “Because look at it! Look at this situation! That shirt is a war crime, Sam.”
He blinks down at himself, confused. “It’s just a shirt.”
“No. No, Samuel.” You reach out and grab his bicep again—your fingers barely touch around the bulk of it. “This is not just a shirt. This is criminal. These arms are ridiculous. Your biceps are literally the size of my entire face.”
Sam chokes out a laugh, flustered. “You’re exaggerating.”
You drag your hand down his arm slowly. “Am I?”
His jaw flexes. “You think they look… good?”
You scoff. “Sam. I want to bite them. That’s not a normal level of appreciation.”
He scratches the back of his neck, clearly fighting a smile, and God help you, the veins in his forearm pop when he does it. “Well. Uh. I work out.”
You snort. “Gee, you think?”
“I—” He pauses, blushing now, voice softer. “I like when you grab my arm.”
You blink. “You what?”
He gestures vaguely, almost sheepish. “You always do that thing when we’re walking through crowds. Just—grab it. Hold on to me.”
You go very still. “Do you not like it?”
“No, I—” He clears his throat. “I really like it.”
You laugh, a little breathless now. “Wow. This whole time I thought you were just tolerating my casual manhandling.”
“Nope,” he says, popping the p. “Definitely not.”
You squeeze his bicep again, testing. He tenses it under your hand, just a little—showing off now.
“Are you flexing for me, Winchester?”
He raises a brow. “Is it working?”
You nod solemnly. “Deeply.”
His smile turns lopsided, dimple showing. “You know your hands are like… tiny, right?”
You stare at your palm on his bicep. It does look small. Ridiculously so.
You look up. “You like that?”
He blushes harder. “Maybe.”
You grin. “Do I get to kiss you now, or do we keep complimenting each other until someone faints?”
Sam doesn’t answer. He just dips his head and kisses you.
It’s soft. And a little shy. And perfect.
When he pulls back, he presses his forehead against yours. “Been wanting to do that for a while.”
You smile. “Me too.”
“Can I flex again now?”
You laugh. “Sam, I will always let you flex for me.”
ꔛ. all works ; writing guidelines ; support my work .ᐟ
summary: Claire is staying with Castiel and Dean for the weekend, and grabs the wrong phone on accident.
“Claire can you set the table?” Dean called out from the kitchen. “Yeah.” She said and placed her phone on the couch jumping up and walking over to the table. She began setting everything up and listened as Castiel explained to Dean why bacon wasn’t a dinner food.
“Cas baby, we’ve talked about this, bacon is an everything food.” Dean said wrapping his arms around the angel to stop his rant. Claire smiled to herself as she continued placing forks on the table. She had never seen either of them so happy and calm, and she’d grown fond ofthe protective father figures.
“Just because it tastes good doesn’t mean you should have it four times a day.” Cas mumbled bringing food over the the table. “Also, Sam said he found out some things about the case, I’ll text them to you later.”
Dean nodded and brought the rest of the items to the table and all three of them took a seat. They began eating talking about all different things, laughing, and joking. “Wait, you actually punched cupid?” Claire asked, jaw dropped. Dean laughed and nodded, “Not my best moment.”
Castiel got out of his seat and walked into the kitchen to refill his drink, and paused to send the information to Dean’s phone. “Alright, help me move the dishes and then you can do whatever teenagers do now. Sleep, stay up, watch crappy movies, your pick.” Dean said standing up.
Claire brought the cups and plates to Cas and Dean at the sink then walked to the couch grabbing her phone. Well, what she thought was her phone. She saw a text on the front then saw the background which was Castiel, Dean, and Sam talking around the Impala, Dean’s arm around Castiel’s shoulders as Sam sat on the hood. It had been taken by Jack when he was just learning how to use a phone and descovered the camera.
“Hey Dean, you have a text. Did you order food?” She asked walking into the kitchen. Dean furrowed his eyebrows and gave her a confused look, “Why would I order food? We just ate.” He said reaching his hand out. “Well to be fair you could eat all day, and second, you got a text from the Pizza Man.” Castiel coughed nearly spitting out his water, “Dean! Why is that my name in your phone?” Dean laughed slightly and tucked his phone away into his jeans pocket.
“Wait that’s Cas? Why. is it pizza man?” She asked sitting at the counter. Dean and Castiel looked at each other. “It-um, it’s a nickname, sorta.” Castiel said and quickly turned back to the sink. Claire continued to question the two until they finished cleaning the kitchen. “Look, Claire, it’s not something to be talking about, okay? It’s getting late, I’m gonna head up.” Castiel said and went upstairs.
She looked at Dean guiltily. “Sorry, I pushed.” Dean shook his head and leaned on the counter, “Look it’s not a big deal, just something from our past. You should get to bed, Cas’s right, it’s getting pretty late.” Claire nodded and grabbed herphone and went up to the room she claimed from all the times spent over.
Unable to sleep she texted Sam asking about the question that drove her crazy. ‘Why is this such a big deal to you?’ Sam texted back and she sighed responding. ‘They just seem like they’re trying to hide it, and I’m a pushy teenager. Cmon Sam pleaseeeee.’ A few minutes later Sam reluctantly gave in and texted Claire back, causing her to laugh and hope she didn’t wake up anybody.
The next morning she sat at the dining table with Dean eating, of course, bacon and eggs. She watched as Castiel walked downstairs, giving Dean a kiss on the head and hugging Claire. He walked over to his phone and opened it then threw it down covering his face.
Claire began giggling and Dean gave each of them a strange look. “Cas, what’s wrong?” Castiel looked at Claire sheepishly. “How did you find out?” He asked. She shrugged and smirked, “I have my ways. I am a skilled hunter after all.” Dean and Castiel gave her a look and she sighed, “Okay, it was Sam.”Castiel groaned and layed his head on the counter covering his head regreting everything he’s ever said.
Dean walked over and checked on his boyfriend not knowing what was upsetting him then picked up Castiel’s phone. He swiped it open and began laughing. “You’re the worst.” He said with a smile to Claire who laughed as well. “This is not a laughing matter!” Castiel said mortified. “It totally is baby.” Dean said looking at the top of his and Castiel’s messages.
More specifically at the change of contact name thanks to Claire, My Human had now been changed to: babysitter.
I know we are all used to hear bad news from the USA or UK when it comes to trans rights but this time Germany wants to play in the same league.
Our idiots at home ministry came up with the fucking idea to start a register for all transgender and nonbinary people which would mean every person working at some public position could always at any given time see your assigned gender at birth, your deadname, your address and who knows what else.
We had been there in the past. Hitler Germany called it the "Travestite Law" back then. Our politicians didn't learn.
We all know this is unacceptable.
Please, if you are German, sign it. If you are not, spread it wide and far.
This had been stopped once a few years ago. It needs to be stopped again.
Hallo, ich bin Penelope Alva Frank, Transfrau, queerfeministische Aktivistin und Gründerin der queerfeministischen Bewegung Queermany.
Ich w
A lot of depictions and written works about Cas saving Dean from hell are real vague, or are real holy and about Dean's beautiful soul or whatever
Is there a fic that talks about how disgusted Cas would've been, flying down to hell along with the garrison and finding Michael's Vessel doing the most deplorable, torturous things to someone on the rack?
Like, no love at first sight. Cas sees his charge and is revolted by the terrible acts he's committing. The acts that broke the last seal. Torture and pain being committed by the hands of someone who's supposed to be the vessel of an archangel
You ever think about how, what if
What if Cas branded Dean as punishment
A small bit of rebellion. A small bit of reprimand that he could get away with
You ever think Cas, in his state of being under heaven's control, has thought about the holy punishment Dean would've received if he were an angel like him
Do you think about how Cas might've thought Dean deserved to be in hell before he got to know him
Cas wanted to thank Dean for teaching him new things and being so patient with him (Even though Cas can barely recall any of Dean's advice)
Pancakes seemed appropriate. Easy even. The box mix was very clear, and he had watched Dean make them before
What he didn't expect was for Dean to be up early for once, strutting up behind Castiel as he had batter on the pan and just... draped himself over Castiel like he had done many times during their 'lessons'
And like before, all higher cognitive functions became more difficult as Dean hooked his chin over Castiel's shoulder and grabbed at his wrist
"Cas, Buddy" He chides, face practically pressed up against Castiel's "Keep it steady..."
After that, Castiel had no idea what had happened
One second, he was glaring at his half-formed pancake, his entire being on fire as he tried to focus; the next, he was sitting at the table with a whole stack of pancakes in front of him, and Dean bickering with Sam over dish duty
I just came up with a really inconvenient, possibly unplayable four-player game: The Evil Advisor
All you need is a completely normal chess board and a deck of cards that you can somehow divide into an even amount of cards that mean "yes" or "no". Out of the four players, only two need to know how to play chess - those play the role of advisor. The other two play as rulers. At the start of the game, both advisors pull a random card from the deck, which dictates whether their goal is to win the game, or lose it. They keep their respective card, showing it to nobody else.
The rulers, who ultimately choose where to move the pieces, always aim to win the chess game, and also know that the advisor may or may not be on their side, and don't know whether to trust the advisor or not.
If the ruler wins the chess game, they win the whole game. An advisor only wins if they reach their own goal - if an advisor's goal was to lose, but the ruler wins, the advisor loses, and vice versa.
Second, even worse four-player game: Two players are playing Warhammer on a gridded table terrain, while two other people are using that grid to play battleships. One of the warhammer players is allied with one of the battleship players. And if one of their unit ends their movement on top of the enemy battleship player's ship, the unit is automatically destroyed.
Deancas coldplay kisscam scenario where the internet goes insane because serial killer Dean Winchester just got spotted alive and cosied up to missing person James Novak
Breaking News: Illinois native presumed to be dead discovered at Coldplay concert with FBI's most wanted, Dean Winchester (Also presumed to be dead), more on this at 11-
"Your love language is what you were deprived of as a child" actually no you're allowed to want, prefer and like things without everything tracing back to some dormant unprocessed trauma. You can just say you want to bounce on it without having to explain how as a child you always wanted - but never got - a trampoline.
theartofmadeline
areudirty
jacobvanloon
turnnoffyourmind
snowghoul
germansingergirl
romaincrisis
