brakes: professortennant: brakes: fairywine answered: Little Cas and Dean together, with babysitter!Sam? PLEASE MAKE THIS HAPPEN! “GIMME BACK MY ANGEL!!!!!”“Dean, Cas isn’t a commodity! And you can have him back when you—OW, STOP THAT!!!!” “Dean! You can play with Cas when you stop pulling on his wings.” Cas sniffled into Sam’s shoulder and peered down at Dean who was tugging uselessly on the leash Sam had to wrap around him. He kept wandering off and tugging little Castiel around with him, determined to help him feed the ducks. Dean stopped his war with the leash to glare and pout at Sam the only way a child can.  “Sam, Cas likes it! He told me so!” Sam sighed and knelt down, letting Castiel’s feet touch the floor and let his wings flutter to the side. “Cas? Is that true?” Cas shyly ducked his head. “I like it sometimes but,” he stopped to glare at Dean, his tiny wings ruffling angrily. “Dean! Sometimes you pull too hard an’ it hurts.” Cas felt his eyes water a little and he burrowed his head into Sam’s jacket. All of Dean’s fight when out of him and he looked helplessly at Sam. Sam pulled a face that looked like he smelled something nasty and also looked like an ‘I-told-you-so’ was on the horizon. Dean hated when Sam was right. He shuffled up to his angel and stroked a hand down Cas’ wings before resting on his back. “‘m sorry, Cas. I won’t touch your wings no more.” Castiel’s head whipped around and glared at Dean. “No!” He blushed and shuffled even closer to Dean so there was very little space between them. “I like when you touch, just don’t tug, ‘kay?” Dean nodded vigorously and reached around to hug his friend. He laughed when Castiel’s wings fluttered happily and knocked Dean around the ears. Dean reached for the second harness at the end of Sam’s stupid kid leash and hooked Castiel into the restraint before grabbing his angel’s hand. He looked up at Sam. “C’mon, Sammy! Ducks!” Sam’s mouth was hanging open and he felt the two little monsters in his care tug at the leash. Cas looked up at him, tugging on his leash. “Come, Sam. Dean and I must provide for the ducklings! It’s the rules.” Dean grinned and high-fived his friend before they both wrapped pudgy hands around the red harness and pulled. Between the two of them, they managed to get Sam walking towards the lake. Sam just shook his head, baffled at the strange relationship between the baby angel and Dean. Kids these days. WOW I DIDN’T THINK IT WAS POSSIBLE TO DIE FROM CUTE BUT THERE YOU GO
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brakes:

professortennant:

brakes:

fairywine answered: Little Cas and Dean together, with babysitter!Sam? PLEASE MAKE THIS HAPPEN!

“GIMME BACK MY ANGEL!!!!!”
“Dean, Cas isn’t a commodity! And you can have him back when you—OW, STOP THAT!!!!”

“Dean! You can play with Cas when you stop pulling on his wings.”

Cas sniffled into Sam’s shoulder and peered down at Dean who was tugging uselessly on the leash Sam had to wrap around him. He kept wandering off and tugging little Castiel around with him, determined to help him feed the ducks.

Dean stopped his war with the leash to glare and pout at Sam the only way a child can. 

“Sam, Cas likes it! He told me so!”

Sam sighed and knelt down, letting Castiel’s feet touch the floor and let his wings flutter to the side.

“Cas? Is that true?”

Cas shyly ducked his head. “I like it sometimes but,” he stopped to glare at Dean, his tiny wings ruffling angrily. “Dean! Sometimes you pull too hard an’ it hurts.”

Cas felt his eyes water a little and he burrowed his head into Sam’s jacket. All of Dean’s fight when out of him and he looked helplessly at Sam. Sam pulled a face that looked like he smelled something nasty and also looked like an ‘I-told-you-so’ was on the horizon.

Dean hated when Sam was right.

He shuffled up to his angel and stroked a hand down Cas’ wings before resting on his back. “‘m sorry, Cas. I won’t touch your wings no more.”

Castiel’s head whipped around and glared at Dean. “No!” He blushed and shuffled even closer to Dean so there was very little space between them. “I like when you touch, just don’t tug, ‘kay?”

Dean nodded vigorously and reached around to hug his friend. He laughed when Castiel’s wings fluttered happily and knocked Dean around the ears.

Dean reached for the second harness at the end of Sam’s stupid kid leash and hooked Castiel into the restraint before grabbing his angel’s hand.

He looked up at Sam.

“C’mon, Sammy! Ducks!”

Sam’s mouth was hanging open and he felt the two little monsters in his care tug at the leash.

Cas looked up at him, tugging on his leash. “Come, Sam. Dean and I must provide for the ducklings! It’s the rules.”

Dean grinned and high-fived his friend before they both wrapped pudgy hands around the red harness and pulled. Between the two of them, they managed to get Sam walking towards the lake.

Sam just shook his head, baffled at the strange relationship between the baby angel and Dean. Kids these days.

WOW

I DIDN’T THINK IT WAS POSSIBLE TO DIE FROM CUTE BUT THERE YOU GO

you-pray-too-loud-pickebicke: deandcas: (photo is not mine obvs, but I couldn’t find the original source so if anyone knows it and can link me that’d be nice.) When Cas gets this contemplative look on his face at the tattoo parlor where they get him his anti-possession tattoo Dean doesn’t make much of it. He just tells Cas to hurry up when he pauses to whisper something to the tatoo artist, gesturing as the other man nods back.  He starts to notice when Cas withdraws into their room for hours at a time in the next few days  with a sketchbook and pencil in hand. When asked, Cas just gives him a small smile and says he’ll see soon enough.  A few more days pass before Cas finds him in living room and gently places the sketchbook on the table before him. It’s flipped open and Dean’s vision is filled with wings. Sketches upon sketch of wings, some rough some detailed, and near the bottom, on drawings of backs.  “They’re beautiful, Cas.” Dean murmurs, a little confused and looks up to see Cas beaming at him, eyes shining with an excitement he hasn’t seen in Cas since he became human. Maybe even longer.  “I want them. I talked to the man who tattooed the anti-possession sigil on my chest and he said he could do wings too. I-I mostly drew them from memory, from how I remember them manifested before… and I took some qualities from my true wings and added those too. Will you take me?”  Dean pauses for a second, not in hesitation but because he can’t stop staring at the change in Cas’s face, how excited he seems. And the decision is nothing, simple really. “Of course, Cas. If that’s what you want.” Dean smiles back at him, reaching over to give his hand a quick squeeze.  Cas nods, that light still in his eyes. “I do. They can’t compare to my d wings of course but I want to honor them, and to keep them in my memory I suppose. This seemed like an apt way.”  They go in the next day, hand in hand because Dean notices somewhere along the way how much Cas’s hands are shaking and that the excitement has been replaced with a jittery nervousness that he can almost feel rolling off Cas.  “Hey, don’t worry, babe. You’ll be fine, hm?” Dean whispers when he feels Cas clutch his hand tighter as they walk in.   He keeps a hold on Cas’s hand through it, whispering little encouragements to him. And after, when they’re shown into a room with wall to wall mirrors so Cas can see the result and he breaks down crying at first sight, he holds Cas against him and tells him how beautiful they are, how beautiful he is. Cas just buries his face against Dean’s chest and sobs but Dean thinks they’ll be alright because this is so different than all the other times he’s held a crying Cas in his arms this past year. Because when he pulls Cas’s face up to press a gentle kiss against his lips, he can feel the curve of his smile. 
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you-pray-too-loud-pickebicke: deandcas: (photo is not mine obvs, but I couldn’t find the original source so if anyone knows it and can link me that’d be nice.) When Cas gets this contemplative look on his face at the tattoo parlor where they get him his anti-possession tattoo Dean doesn’t make much of it. He just tells Cas to hurry up when he pauses to whisper something to the tatoo artist, gesturing as the other man nods back.  He starts to notice when Cas withdraws into their room for hours at a time in the next few days  with a sketchbook and pencil in hand. When asked, Cas just gives him a small smile and says he’ll see soon enough.  A few more days pass before Cas finds him in living room and gently places the sketchbook on the table before him. It’s flipped open and Dean’s vision is filled with wings. Sketches upon sketch of wings, some rough some detailed, and near the bottom, on drawings of backs.  “They’re beautiful, Cas.” Dean murmurs, a little confused and looks up to see Cas beaming at him, eyes shining with an excitement he hasn’t seen in Cas since he became human. Maybe even longer.  “I want them. I talked to the man who tattooed the anti-possession sigil on my chest and he said he could do wings too. I-I mostly drew them from memory, from how I remember them manifested before… and I took some qualities from my true wings and added those too. Will you take me?”  Dean pauses for a second, not in hesitation but because he can’t stop staring at the change in Cas’s face, how excited he seems. And the decision is nothing, simple really. “Of course, Cas. If that’s what you want.” Dean smiles back at him, reaching over to give his hand a quick squeeze.  Cas nods, that light still in his eyes. “I do. They can’t compare to my d wings of course but I want to honor them, and to keep them in my memory I suppose. This seemed like an apt way.”  They go in the next day, hand in hand because Dean notices somewhere along the way how much Cas’s hands are shaking and that the excitement has been replaced with a jittery nervousness that he can almost feel rolling off Cas.  “Hey, don’t worry, babe. You’ll be fine, hm?” Dean whispers when he feels Cas clutch his hand tighter as they walk in.   He keeps a hold on Cas’s hand through it, whispering little encouragements to him. And after, when they’re shown into a room with wall to wall mirrors so Cas can see the result and he breaks down crying at first sight, he holds Cas against him and tells him how beautiful they are, how beautiful he is. Cas just buries his face against Dean’s chest and sobs but Dean thinks they’ll be alright because this is so different than all the other times he’s held a crying Cas in his arms this past year. Because when he pulls Cas’s face up to press a gentle kiss against his lips, he can feel the curve of his smile. 
Zoom

you-pray-too-loud-pickebicke:

deandcas:

(photo is not mine obvs, but I couldn’t find the original source so if anyone knows it and can link me that’d be nice.)

When Cas gets this contemplative look on his face at the tattoo parlor where they get him his anti-possession tattoo Dean doesn’t make much of it. He just tells Cas to hurry up when he pauses to whisper something to the tatoo artist, gesturing as the other man nods back.  He starts to notice when Cas withdraws into their room for hours at a time in the next few days  with a sketchbook and pencil in hand. When asked, Cas just gives him a small smile and says he’ll see soon enough. 

A few more days pass before Cas finds him in living room and gently places the sketchbook on the table before him. It’s flipped open and Dean’s vision is filled with wings. Sketches upon sketch of wings, some rough some detailed, and near the bottom, on drawings of backs. 

“They’re beautiful, Cas.” Dean murmurs, a little confused and looks up to see Cas beaming at him, eyes shining with an excitement he hasn’t seen in Cas since he became human. Maybe even longer. 

“I want them. I talked to the man who tattooed the anti-possession sigil on my chest and he said he could do wings too. I-I mostly drew them from memory, from how I remember them manifested before… and I took some qualities from my true wings and added those too. Will you take me?” 

Dean pauses for a second, not in hesitation but because he can’t stop staring at the change in Cas’s face, how excited he seems. And the decision is nothing, simple really. “Of course, Cas. If that’s what you want.” Dean smiles back at him, reaching over to give his hand a quick squeeze. 

Cas nods, that light still in his eyes. “I do. They can’t compare to my d wings of course but I want to honor them, and to keep them in my memory I suppose. This seemed like an apt way.” 

They go in the next day, hand in hand because Dean notices somewhere along the way how much Cas’s hands are shaking and that the excitement has been replaced with a jittery nervousness that he can almost feel rolling off Cas.  “Hey, don’t worry, babe. You’ll be fine, hm?” Dean whispers when he feels Cas clutch his hand tighter as they walk in.  

He keeps a hold on Cas’s hand through it, whispering little encouragements to him.

And after, when they’re shown into a room with wall to wall mirrors so Cas can see the result and he breaks down crying at first sight, he holds Cas against him and tells him how beautiful they are, how beautiful he is. Cas just buries his face against Dean’s chest and sobs but Dean thinks they’ll be alright because this is so different than all the other times he’s held a crying Cas in his arms this past year. Because when he pulls Cas’s face up to press a gentle kiss against his lips, he can feel the curve of his smile. 

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