#titleless

[caswouldratherbehere]

Dean nudged him with his shoulder. Cas hummed in response, leaving his eyes on the sky. Baby's hood was warm under his legs, but the temperature was dropping. Five-point-six degrees in Fahrenheit, to be exact.

"What do you see?"

Cas turned to him. "What do you mean?"

Dean gestured at the sky. It was a minute or two away from totality, when the moon would completely block the sun. Dean wore cheap, gas station glasses that Sam had bought them. Cas's vision was not dependent solely on his human anatomy, and so he went without them.

"He means since you have extra special angel vision," Sam said from the other side of the car. They'd pulled off the road in the middle of the country and were parked in a field in Ohio, not a soul or even building in sight.

Cas hummed again, returning to gaze at the shrinking crescent. "I'm not sure I could explain it."

"You know, what, a million languages? Try."

Cas thought, and as he thought, the eclipse reached totality. The Winchester's removed their glasses, now safely able to enjoy the view. Sam's reaction was audible, a soft "wow" escaping his lips. Dean's reaction was silent, but as usual, Cas was aware of it nonetheless. A soft inhale, shoulder's straightening.

"It's... Have you ever seen a piece of artwork that spoke to you in a way you couldn't put into words? Like there was something about it that reached past the planes of reality and spoke to you in a way you couldn't perceive, couldn't hope to explain?"

He felt Dean's eyes on the side of his face.

"It's similar to that. It's not so much what I can see--which is simply a more detailed version of what you see. That I can explain. Rather, it's a feeling that's beyond even me. It's incomprehensible. I'd describe it as immense, but even that feels inadequate. It's like something greater than myself is reaching out, making me feel like I'm more by extension. I've seen this hundreds of times and it never fails to amaze me. There's nothing else like it." He shrugged a shoulder. "I don't suppose that makes sense."

"It makes more sense than you know."

Cas didn't understand that comment, so he turned to Dean and met his stare. "Dean. You're missing the eclipse."

Dean snorted. "Apparently I'm not."

From the back of Baby, Sam groaned. "Flirt later, Dean. We have, like, 30 seconds of this left."

Flirt?

Dean mumbled a "bitch" but nonetheless turned his eyes back to the sky.

Cas was missing something. Besides the total eclipse. But that one, at least, he could remedy. He could figure out what Dean meant another time.

He followed Dean's lead, and looked up.

[anarchist-caravan]

[willowaus]

I still need a title and to write beyond figuring out class schedules, who’s who, and snippets of dialogue that I’ve been typing away on my phone on and off all week, but I’ve hashed out the premise for my next multichapter Nabrina fic.

All Sabrina wants to do is enjoy the last few years with her mortal friends. Attend college, party a little too hard, and make endless memories with them. But when you're a Spellman nothing ever goes as planned, especially not when she meets her handsomely mischievous classmate, Nick Scratch, who introduces her to a side of witchcraft that she's never thought possible.

When people start ending up murdered in ritual sacrifices on campus Sabrina knows she can't keep both of her worlds apart any longer. Especially when it seems each murder is a message for her.

I think it could work. 

[calyfornian]

Titleless-Chapter 24.5/A : Christina, Clair, and Anthony

"All right, we're up." Clair pulled me out of our pew and Christina flanked me on my left. Chris and Anthony popped up behind us as a contingency for me going totally postal I imagine. We didn't take two steps down the aisle until I heard my mother call from behind, by the door.

She was running late and she was never one to be running late. She looked emotional as hell, but beautiful as hell in a navy blue dress and big black hat on. her hair was done in curls and her makeup really complimented her face. Christ my mother was a beautiful woman.

She walked up to us, where we were positioned about halfway down the aisle from the door to the casket. My friends all took a step back while she hugged me. Well, except for Clair, she stayed beside me. She was some kind of woman.

In fact, all the women in my life were 'some kind of woman.' They were all fucking spectacularly strong in a fantastic kind of way that I had never been able to see in men, let alone in myself. They weren't angels, they were fucking gods. Each and every one of them.

My mother was still hugging me and I might have totally lost it if Clair hadn't known to intervene and greet her. As Clair hugged my mother, she never let go of my hand. I felt tears escaping and I let them. I didn't feel so bad for feeling today. It was the day, it was the time, it was the funeral.

When my mother was done saying her hello to my friends and her nephew, she walked with us most of the way down the aisle, Christina giving her the left side of me and resigning to wrapping her arm around my mother.

The support system in my life was unparalleled and I wish I could have acknowledged that. I mean, I had known it all along, but if I had just fucking taken it in. If I had just fucking allowed myself to feel all this God damn love, maybe-

My mother hugged me one more time, followed by a kiss on the cheek. She was crying a little harder, probably because we were standing a couple feet away from the casket, "That's from your father. He told me to hug you extra hard and tell you that he loves you so much and he's sorry this happened. We love you so much Andrew, he wanted to be here, but the doctors said he can't leave the hospital yet. Do you want me to go up with you?"

I was crying now in full force, I felt each of my friends, each parts of my life touching me, and even if just a couple of them were palms, I felt like they were holding me together, "No, ma. I-I," my eyes started pouring harder, "I think I want to go up alone first."

Clair gave my hand a squeeze and let me go.

The two steps to your casket were the biggest I think I've ever made.

Your hair was down in curls and pulled back on one side. The hair cascaded down the left side of your face. It looked beautiful, but I was angry that it was blocking what was your perfect skin, probably to hide where the car hit. You were in a green dress and it looked fucking fantastic on you. It looked fucking amazing, even if you hated dresses. Even though I know you would have gagged if you had seen it.

I smiled, thinking about the disdain you'd have for your own funeral.

Your lips were covered in a light shade of pink lipstick, Christ you would have rather them slap some lip balm on you.

I let out some laughter accompanied by vehement tears.

"Charlie." When I touched your skin, it was ice cold and I hated that, because it wasn't how I remembered you.

"Charlie." You were warm. You always said I was as warm as the sun but it was you. I could wrap myself in you on the most bitter of nights.

"Charlie." Tears were pouring down my face and I was holding on to the casket for support.

It wasn't supposed to be you. It was never supposed to be you. You weren't allowed to leave. You weren't allowed to fucking leave. You had the whole world ahead of you. You had the whole fucking world ahead of you!

I felt a stab in my stomach followed by all the air being sucked from my lungs at once.

"I'm-I'm sorry I wasn't there, Charlie. I'm sorry."

"She looks beautiful." My mother's voice made it through my own pain. I hugged her, like a child who got lost at the mall and thought they were going to be alone forever.

My mother left and Clair took her place, "She would have hated this," Clair smiled with tears running down her cheeks.

"You've got that right." Christina was at  her head, stroking her hair.

Anthony was a hard hit on my shoulder followed by an immediate and abrupt hug.

We all chuckled a bit and in a broken rhythm mirrored Clair's 'she would have hated this.'

[calyfornian]

Titleless-Chapter 26/A : Prelude/Final Chapter

Her hair was short as the day I met her. She wasn't wearing any make up, just one of my over-sized white shirts and some tight blue jeans. I don't even think she had shoes on. Her eyes were beautiful. There were no marks of her death on her.

“I remember the first time you held me; we were in your room and it was the end of summer. Well, the end of the minimal summer that we get in this shit part of the world. I was laying on your bed and I think you were in the kitchen making us something to eat. It must have been late because I remember wearing your grossly over-sized pullover you had bought the previous summer when you visited your family in California.”

At her mention of California, my mind was racing with a million different thoughts of my past life. All the sensations, all the love, all the loss. All of her.

"I believe that was all I was wearing, besides those dark blue underwear I have; you know the ones.”

She cracked a sultry smile and I couldn't help but smile from ear to ear.

“The ones with the small white pattern? The tiny little design that you couldn’t notice unless-unless you were uh, closely examining them?” I felt my jaw loosen up.

“See, you know the ones. I was there listening to a new music you had discovered. I remember as soon as I had heard it, it was like I was hearing music for the first time”

She ignited laughter in me that hurt my chest in the best way, especially considering who knew how long it had been since I'd felt any kind of joy. It was hard to keep eye contact with her. She started laughing with me.

“God. You were probably high out of your mind-that’s why!”

When I finally stopped cracking up at just the sheer image of her before me, I prompted her to continue with a, "go on."

“In the middle of some wildly electronic song, you entered. You were only wearing those burgundy sweats. I think you had just finished working out a bit before I got to your house.”

My tongue flicked across my lip in an act I couldn't help if I had tried. Even in death she could arouse me, who knew.

“You being the master chef you are had a jar of peanut butter and a case of Oreos… God, you could eat.”

She stopped there, and I couldn't stop smiling. My arm was on her thigh. She was real. She was here. The sun was shining on us in whatever part of bliss we were in.

"I love you, Charlie." I leaned across the small round table and kissed her.

"How much do you love me?" She laughed and it was wind chimes, then kissed me again.

"You're everything. You're the whole fucking world." I kissed her more. I couldn't stop. In between pauses, I felt her warm breath against my skin.

She grabbed my hands and pulled away to make eye contact with me, "I'm everything?"

"Yes."

"I'm the whole world?"

"Yes, yes."

She looked off to the right. Children were playing in the street with a dog. Then she looked back at me.

"Then make me a promise."  She leaned in and kissed me.

"Anything. Anything." Her brown eyes looked like they held the whole world.

"Don't ever make another attempt on your life." Her eyes pleaded before she went in to kiss me.

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I woke up with bright white lights about, and my mother was crying over me in that white room.

I love you, Charlie.