Destiel college AU

Lava

Based off this video because I cannot stop laughing


It had started out as a simple enough dare, Dean and Cas would each get a total of 3 tries per person to try and “kill” the other by telling the other that “the floor is lava.” They would then have five seconds before they had to find a way to get off the ground and scream that the floor was lava to any unsuspecting passerby if there were anyway. There was no prize, not really. Dean just really wanted to beat Cas at something, and Cas didn’t mind if he got bragging rights.

Cas had been first, during a walk in the park between their two college classes on campus. “The floor is lava,” he’d casually said. Dean had not understood until he did, and at which point he only had 3 seconds left and nothing that he could use to get off the ground. Nothing, except, for a trashcan just up the trail. He’d made it with one second to spare.

“The floor is lava!” Dean screamed triumphantly, balancing precariously on the poor trashcan below him. He had managed to get into a crouch before the inevitable happened––when Dean went to get down back onto the ground and rejoin Cas he slipped and wound up wedging his butt straight into the trashcan. Castiel wouldn’t let him forget it for a week.

The next turn had been Dean’s, choosing to wait until Cas and he were on a grocery run to enact his plan.

“Hey, Cas,” he called the other’s attention while they were in the toilet paper aisle. 

“Hm?”

“The floor is lava.” 

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The Last Word

I was rewatching that episode of Community where Abed and Troy kept hitting each other with pillows because they didn’t want their friendship to be over, and I just kind of liked the idea of an argument stretching out ridiculously long just because 2 people don’t want to stop talking ^^

college AU.

read it here on AO3!

“Dean, this is Cas - Cas, Dean,” Jo said, calling over the thudding music in the bar where they were standing, propping up the bar. She had a hand on Dean’s shoulder, and she gave him a little shake. “I’ve been meaning to introduce you guys since forever. I just know you’re gonna get on great. Cas, Dean likes philosophy, and psychology - that kind of thing!”

“I’m, uh - an armchair philosopher at best,” Dean said, throwing Jo a look that said, as clearly as he could without words, don’t play me up too much. Cas, the guy standing in front of him, was quite clearly out of Dean’s league - tall, lean, with the looks of an Athenian hero and the expression of a Roman statue, chiselled and unsmiling. Dean took a hefty swig of his drink, and smiled charmingly.

Well, he thought, you never know until you’ve tried.

“So, are you a Freud or a Jung kind of guy?” he said. Jo clapped his shoulder and moved off, evidently satisfied with the opener and feeling as though her introductory duties were complete. Dean watched after her for a second as she went, taking her social skills with her.

It wasn’t that Dean was bad in social situations - it was only that when there was just him and an undeniably cute guy, things tended to get a little… flustered. Jo, on the other hand, was perfectly at ease, and good at smoothing over the stupid things his runaway mouth tended to say -

“You can go and talk to her instead,” said Cas, and Dean started and looked back at him guiltily. Cas’ expression was unreadable, watching him watch after Jo. “Please, feel no obligation to enjoy my company.”

Dean blinked. Cas raised his eyebrows.

“I’m, uh, I’m - uh,” Dean said, wrongfooted. “I was just -”

“And I think - Jung,” Cas said, cutting through his fumbling. “Freud’s theories are too rooted in misogyny and phobia to be of any interest beyond the influential and contextual, for me.”

Dean swallowed.

This is going great, said a little voice in his head.

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Something about Fate

Dean decides to go to a new psychic in town - just for the hell of it, of course - with his roommate Castiel, and doesn’t get the reading he was expecting.

~5.2k

AO3

“Hey, Cas, have you ever been to a psychic?”

Dean watched as Castiel looked up from his book with his eyebrows pinched together.

“No.” A pause. “Why do you ask?”

Dean shrugged.

“Garth texted me. Apparently there’s one in town that he went to yesterday and he’s obsessed. He said she really knows her stuff.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow before returning his attention to the textbook he had sprawled across their kitchen counter, so he could eat and study at the same time - a sight that was not all that uncommon in their apartment.

“Psychics don’t exists, Dean,” he said, matter-of-factly, as he turned the page. “People who claim to be psychic are scammers hoping to draw in the desperate or the gullible. Garth is the latter, I’m afraid.”

“Hey, he’s not -”

“Remember when Gabriel told him that stop signs with a white rim around them were optional?”

Dean rolled his eyes and pulled out a stool on the opposite side of the counter from his roommate.

“Duh, Cas. I know that they aren’t legit. Everyone does. But at the very least they’re supposed to be super good at reading people and then you essentially pay them to tell you what their first impression of you is.”

A small smile crept its way across Castiel’s face.

“I could tell you that for free, you know.”

Dean flipped him off as he got up and pulled out an apple from the refrigerator, not even bothering to look back as he did so.

“Whatever. I think it could be kind of cool.”

“Then by all means…” Castiel wrote something down in a notepad and flipped to the next page. “I think you should do it. I have free time tomorrow if you’d like to find this psychic then.”

Dean tossed the apple between his hands.

“You’d come with me?”

“Of course. I would never miss the opportunity to witness someone predicting your death.”

Castiel laughed as Dean flipped him off again.

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Science AUs
  • I accidentally spilled hydrochloric acid on you so you really need to use the emergency shower and omg, if i knew you looked that good shirtless and wet i would have spilled it on you much earlier in the semester
  • You caught me looking at your answers in the lab but you really need to let me keep copying you, please, I have no idea what i’m even looking at under the microscope
  • No one should look as good as you do in safety goggles
  • could you please stop saying “the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell”???? it’s fucking physics
  • you keep messing up this titration and if i see this solution go bright bloody purple one more time i will beat you with the measuring cylinder 
  • i’m sorry i keep messing up the titration
  • i fainted during the dissection and you’re the one who caught me
Cookies ‘n Kisses

based off the prompt by @imagine-the-fluff: “Ya know, this Christmas cookie frosting would taste a hundred times better on you.”

ao3 link

~~~

“Dean, stop, no,” Cas chastised, leaning over and swatting at Dean’s hand that was going for a procedurally and precisely decorated Christmas cookie that had been done by none other than Cas himself.

“Cas, come on, just one,” Dean argued, pulling his hand away only to reach back over.

“Dean, if you’ll recall, you’ve already had two which is two more than you should have had because if you’ll also recall, these are for the school bake sale,” Cas continued on, slowly leading Dean’s hand back to his side. Cas glanced over at Dean who was pouting, purposely sticking out his lower lip and looking over at Cas with the best puppy dog eyes he could manage. Cas just raised an eyebrow and Dean scoffed.

“You’re such a scrooge, Cas,” Dean grumbled, leaning over and picking up the bag of icing he had set down.

Dean and Cas’ college was having a Christmas bake sale for charity and since Charlie could no longer manage the whole thing by herself, Dean and Cas had offered to help. Therefore, it resulted in Dean and Cas standing in the college’s kitchen with trays of cookies awaiting decoration, half of them already done thanks to the hours Dean and Cas had spent on them (they had baked a little too many cookies, more than they thought they had).

“I’m not a scrooge, Dean. Don’t you remember who decorated our dorm while you were away last week?” Cas questioned, glancing over at Dean as he picked up another cookie to frost. He saw Dean quirk a little smile and nod as he went about decorating another one of his own cookies.

“Alright, that was kind of nice,” Dean relented. “But I did the mistletoe,” Dean then promptly added. Cas couldn’t help but grin a little at that. Dean was always way too sneaky with the mistletoe. He would put mistletoe in the most random place, and whenever Cas found it, like some Christmas miracle, Dean was always nearby, eyes sparkling, mouth quirked up into one of those mischievous little grins that always made Cas’ stomach tumble, even after being with Dean for years.

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It was the first week of college, the first English class. Dean was sitting pretty much in the middle of the big classroom. Professor Mills was keeping a name call in front of the class.

“Charlie Bradbury?”

“Here!”

“Benny Lafitte?”

“Present!”

“Castiel Winchester?”

Silence. Professor Mills looked up from the name list she was going through.

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Finding Home

Summary:  After Cas is rejected by his homophobic parents, his roommate Dean invites him to stay for the holidays with him and his family.  He never expected it to turn into this.


“They don’t want me anymore.” 

Dean blinks in surprise, looking up to see his freshman roommate standing in the doorway, antiquated cellphone in his hands.  To his surprise, the kid looks to be on the verge of crying, which is strange – Dean’s joked with his friends about how emotionless Cas appears to be.  Or rather, had appeared to be, up till now. 

“Cas, you alright there, buddy?”  Dean asks, chair screeching as he pulls away from his desk.  He’d been trying to finish his research paper for his physiology class, but whatever Cas’s problem is seems to be more pressing. 

“They don’t want me,” Cas repeats, swallowing wetly.  “My parents.  They say don’t want me to come home for Christmas break, and they don’t want me contacting my siblings anymore.” 

Dean blinks comprehensively.  “What?  Why the hell not?” 

“They, ‘still love me,’” Cas snuffles, rubbing his nose with the sleeve of his ever-present beige trench coat with one arm and making quotey fingers with the other.  “But they ‘don’t approve of my lifestyle.’”  

Oh.  Oh, so that’s what this is about.  

Dean hasn’t known Cas for all that long, and he doesn’t know a whole lot about him:  just that he’s a bio major with plans to become a doctor (Dean himself is going into nursing), he’s cute (though he’d never, ever tell Cas that), not a little weird, and yeah, if the time he’d come home to find him making out with Crowley (the poncy British upperclassman from accounting who Dean already loathes with a passion) he is into guys.

His parents must not have been cool with it. 

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justsomeweirdbullshit  asked:

Prompt- Dean sleep talks but instead of saying cute things his ramblings are fucking terrifying (ex: "why is the man staring at us?" "there is blood everywhere" etc.) Cas has probably lost 10 years of his life from this. Cute fluffy comedy.

(I’m sorry this took SO long! Work, life, yadda yadda yadda. ;) Here you go, thank you for the prompt!)



No roommate is perfect. Castiel knows this.

Every relationship requires reaching compromises and learning boundaries, and it’s easier for things for become strained when two people are encroaching on each other’s living space. And squeezing two complete strangers into a dorm room the size of a shoebox and expecting them to get along for a year? Well, in his opinion, it’s a miracle that the number of homicides on college campuses isn’t higher, especially when adolescent hormones, poor impulse control, and underdeveloped frontal lobes are factored into the equation.

So, all things considered, Castiel feels pretty lucky to have Dean as his roommate.

Sure, Dean can be loud and boisterous, and he listens to music too loudly, but it doesn’t bother Castiel too much after the first few weeks. Dean’s questionable “tastes” in music actually start to grow on him, despite his better judgment. He’s even started picking up words to some of the songs, because Dean has a habit of belting out a lyric and then pointing dramatically at Castiel to sing the next verse, and Castiel had gotten tired of the disappointed look on Dean’s face whenever he didn’t know the words, so maybe he had looked up some of the lyrics between his classes.

But it definitely goes both ways, because Dean can pretend he doesn’t like Castiel’s soft jazz or documentaries or fiber-heavy cereal brands, but Castiel hasn’t been fooled since the day he walked into their room and found Dean hunched over his laptop, eyes suspiciously red, transfixed by Castiel’s copy of March of the Penguins. Before he could even say a word, Dean had slammed the laptop shut, face flushing red, and snapped, “Shut up, Cas! Some of the eggs didn’t hatch! Stop laughing, Cas!”

And yes, Dean can be a little over-the-top about cleaning (before rooming with Dean, Castiel would’ve thought there could never be such a thing as too clean, but he’s learned differently), but he’s learned to live with it.

For example, when Castiel comes back from class and spots Dean on his hands and knees scrubbing the baseboards, the smell of Lysol hitting him like a brick to the face, he’s learned that Dean needs space, so he goes to the library for a few hours until Dean’s worked off whatever stress or anger he’s been keeping bottled up. Then he comes back, drags Dean away from wiping out the inside of their desk drawers, and takes him to The Roadhouse for a burger. If Dean decides to confide in him, good; but if not, he can still see the tension easing out of Dean’s shoulders as they sit in the familiar atmosphere, talking about classes, talking about everything and nothing, knees barely brushing under the table.

And, in an effort to do his part, Castiel has started being more mindful about picking up after himself and not leaving his damp towels on the floor. He even tries to remember to make his bed in the mornings, although he forgets more often than not in his haste to get ready for class (not that it really matters because it’ll be made when he comes back, anyways).

And okay, Dean is lively and social and charismatic, and there’s always strange people in their dorm room, but Dean always make a point to introduce Castiel to everyone and try to include Castiel in the conversations, even if he doesn’t have much to contribute. Most of Dean’s friends are tolerable, and Castiel finds himself genuinely liking a few of them, such as Charlie and Benny, and even participating in political debates or Mario Kart games. And on the days that Castiel has a test or a paper due the next day, Dean will unceremoniously kick everyone out without Castiel even having to ask, good-naturedly yelling at everyone to “get lost, moochers, Cas has an Abnormal Psych test tomorrow and he’s gonna kick it in the ass!”.

And fine, Dean does party quite a bit on the weekends (or on the random Tuesday) and comes back in the middle of the night, inevitably waking up Castiel no matter how quiet he tries to be. But Castiel can’t even hold it against him, because when he tucks Dean’s drunk ass into bed and brings him a glass of water and some ibuprofen, Dean gives him the most profoundly grateful look that it’s almost humbling. Castiel doesn’t deserve a look like that for doing such a simple thing, a thing that any decent roommate would do.

Dean never says anything the next morning after these occurrences, but Castiel knows that Dean remembers, because Dean will find ways to make it up to him for the next week – just small things, like having coffee ready for him before his classes, or stocking up on Castiel’s favorite brand of peanut butter.

So no, Dean isn’t the perfect roommate, but Castiel doesn’t mind. He knows he’s not perfect either. But they have a good system, and they get along pretty well most of the time. There’s still some things that Castiel doesn’t understand – like why Dean insists that he’s dumb even though he’s excelling in his engineering classes – and they still have arguments, sometimes petty and sometimes not, but Castiel can’t imagine being roommates with anyone except Dean.

Although honestly, Dean hasn’t been just “a roommate” for a long time now. Castiel considers the term “best friend” to be much more fitting. Castiel lives with his best friend, and he thinks this makes him very lucky.

With one exception.

Dean talks in his sleep.

[Keep reading on Ao3]

dean and cas were dating in college, but have to go their separate ways after graduation (dean to the police academy and cas to graduate school). they’re still very much in love, but don’t want to put each other through the pain of being long distance, so when dean drives cas to the train station he proposes they meet back, in the exact same spot, in two years and see if fate is rooting for them. 

cut to two years later, they both show up in the main hall of the train station ready to pick up where they left off. 

Castiel sits in the booth, staring at his laptop. He halfheartedly pokes at a few keys, then slams the delete key until the page is blank again. He sips at his coffee, wincing at the bitter taste. He longs for a good chai, or even his favorite English breakfast tea, but what was it that Giles said on Buffy the Vampire Slayer? “Tea is soothing, I wish to be tense*.” That’s me alright, Cas thinks.

Stupid to try to write at JP’s. It’s full of students, chattering and laughing, seemingly without a care in the world. Apparently they don’t have a creative writing final due in three days and nothing but a blank screen to show for it. He’d thought getting out of his dorm room would help, away from…certain distractions.

No! he thinks loudly at himself. Don’t think about–

“Hey, Cas! Didn’t think I’d see you here! Don’t you have a story to write or something?”

Startled, Cas looks up into the moss-green eyes of his roommate, Dean.

“I, uh…yes, Dean, I do. I thought a change of scenery might help. But it’s not working. I’ve got nothing.”

Dean slides onto the bench across from Cas, an easy smile on his face. “You should do like me, major in biology. Sure there are papers to write, but it’s not creative. They tell me to write a paper about photosynthesis, I write about photosynthesis. I don’t have to think, I just do it. Easy as pie.” He sits up straighter. “Hey, speaking of…”

Cas grins. “Yeah, they’ve got pie today. Apple crumble’s on the far end.”

“Score!” says Dean, practically leaping out of the booth. “Want some? And do you need more tea? English breakfast, right?”

Cas’s stomach flutters. “No pie, thanks. And I’m actually drinking coffee today. It’s horrible.”

Dean blanches. “You can’t drink coffee! No wonder you aren’t getting anything written! Let me get you some proper tea. And…” He scans the pastry shelves, then shakes his head. “No, that won’t work. I’ll be right back.”

And before Cas can open his mouth to protest, Dean is out the door and running.

Bewildered, Cas looks back at his laptop. What just happened? he wonders. He idly types a few words and deletes them.

Fifteen minutes later Dean is back, a huge grin on his face.

“You don’t need sugar, you need brain food. I went across the street to the Italian place. Tuxedo chicken with fresh tomatoes, and garlic breadsticks. That should get you writing.” Dean sets the take-out bag on the table with a flourish.

His grin falters when he sees Cas staring up at him, unblinking. “Is something wrong?” he asks. “That’s your favorite, right?”

Slowly Cas asks, “How did you know all that?”

Dean’s ears turn pink. “I just…pay attention, I guess,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Just like I know that apple crumble pie is your favorite,” Cas says, pulling himself to his feet.

“I guess…” says Dean

“And I know you fall asleep listening to Led Zeppelin and you want to find a ‘67 Impala to restore someday, because your dad had one when he was your age.” Cas says, moving closer to Dean.

“I know you want a house in the country where you can write and have a garden and keep bees,” Dean says. His voice is barely more than a whisper.

“I know that I want to kiss you right now,” says Cas, his eyes smiling.

“That’s something we both want,” Dean says, and he closes the space between them.

Several students nearby burst into applause and catcalls, but all Cas can think of is the softness of Dean’s lips against his own.

When they stop for breath, Dean smiles and says, “I’ll get that tea now.” He winks as he adds, “Should I get it go go?”

Closing his laptop with a decisive snap, Cas grins back and says, “Yes. I think maybe my writer’s block is gone.”


*BtVS 03x22, Graduation Day: Part 2



Inktober with the Bunker || Day 1: Coffee Shop

A very happy birthday to @whelvenwings​! She got to have this privately on her birthday and now I’m going to share it with everyone else.  I only say this so no one thinks that I’m the asshole who forgot and is posting late omg. 

Thanks so much much for sticking with me for the past couple of years! Glad you’re in my life, Ole Candle-hand :)

Summary

 Dean Winchester is hopelessly, head-over-heels in love with his best friend and roommate, Castiel.
Castiel - with his blue hair, and his tattoos, and his artwork, and his perfect everything. Dean never stood a chance, really. It only sucks because, as far as Dean can tell, Castiel is definitely not interested.
But love, much like art, has a way of being unpredictable.
Even if you think you know where you’re going with it.


Dean had all of Castiel’s tattoos memorized by now.

There was the peregrine falcon on his arm, with a wingspan that started at his shoulder and wrapped around his bicep, to dip just below the joint at his elbow.

The opposite forearm was almost entirely black, with large white roses blossoming across the negative space; there was a stunning contrast along the sharp edges where the tattoo ended above the wrist and below the other elbow.

On his abdomen, above his hip, was a script that Dean had caught sight of a few times when Castiel had happened to take his shirt off in front of him, but he still wasn’t sure what it said - it clearly wasn’t English, but also wasn’t any language he recognized. It looked about how Dean felt whenever he managed to catch a glimpse of Castiel shirtless.

He had a small mountain range tattooed on the side of one of his feet - and whenever he was asked about it, would always take the time to explain how it symbolized him metaphorically climbing mountains.

There was a length of rope, tattooed to wrap around his left calf and create a noose around his ankle - it apparently had a symbolic tarot meaning to him.

Castiel also had a small feather inked into the space behind his ear, accented with shades of purple and white, that would catch anyone’s attention if he turned his head at the right angle.

Yes, all of these tattoos Dean had memorized.

Which was why he was pretty damn sure Castiel had a new one.

“Is that -” Dean gestured towards his roommate’s neck after grabbing a beer from the fridge, waiting for Castiel to look up from his book so that he could point out the the inked lines that were currently poking out from under the neckline of his black t-shirt. “Cas, hey. Cas?”

Dean frowned, realizing that Castiel was currently tapping his fingers and nodding his head, then saw the earbuds sticking out of his ears. Dean rolled his eyes and ripped a page from the notebook they usually kept on the counter, crumpled it up into a ball, and chucked it at Castiel - grinning when it hit square in the middle of his forehead.

Castiel looked up, rubbing at where Dean’s projectile had landed, and took one earbud out of his ear. He squinted over at Dean.

“Yes? Can I help you?” he asked, his hair - the top of which had recently been dyed from purple to blue - falling in his face before he brushed it back.

“Did you get some new ink?” Dean asked, pointing at the the tattoo on Cas’ collarbone that he could only partly see.

Castiel glanced down and nodded, pulling the collar of his shirt down, until Dean could see the words ‘La Vie a Plus’ written in a cursive scrawl along underside of his collarbone.

“Last week,” Castiel said, tilting his head in the opposite direction so Dean could get a better view. “Not my usual, but I like it.”

Dean raised an eyebrow as he took a swig of his beer.

“What’s it mean?”

Castiel let the collar of his shirt go and patted his collarbone once, before turning back to snap his book closed.

“Life has more.”

Dean set the bottle down and waited for an explanation, but Castiel didn’t seem to want to elaborate. He sighed and leaned against the counter.

“More what?”

Castiel shrugged and shoved the book back into his bag, as if the words he’d had embedded into his flesh for the rest of his life weren’t all that important.

“More everything, I guess. Depends on the situation.”

Dean finished off his drink and almost rolled his eyes again.

“So, why the French?”

“I’m an art major, Dean. English isn’t nearly pretentious enough,” he said, standing up with a smirk. “Anyway, I’ve got to go finish a project with Meg. I’ll be back in the morning.”

“The morning?” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow.

“The morning. It’s going to be a long one.”

Castiel pulled the strap over his shoulder and waved as he put the earbud back in place.

“Use protection,” Dean mumbled when he knew Castiel wouldn’t be able to hear him. He sighed and flopped down onto their overstuffed couch, turning on the television to drown out all of the jealous thoughts that crept their way into his mind on nights like these.

Just once, he wanted to the be one that Castiel had ‘study nights’ with - wanted to hold him close in his arms, and trace his way across every art piece Cas had preserved in his skin.

Dean grunted and hugged a pillow close to his chest.

What did he have to go and fall in love with his roommate for?

Read the rest on AO3

anonymous asked:

sorry to bother but could you write the “I accidentally took your notebook thinking it was mine and you have really nice handwriting and cute doodles” with punk!artist!cas? Like dean accidentally takes cas' notebook and sees a few sketches of a person who looks a lot like him on the last page? idk, i'm so bad at sending prompts haha

Dean is staring at the shelf where the book is supposed to be. He looks at nearby shelves too but it’s nowhere to be seen. He doesn’t necessarily need this exact book but his teacher said it’s the best when it comes to Renaissance painting and the online catalog said it’s not borrowed so it should be here! Disappointed, Dean turns away to leave and then he sees it. The thick book is lying right there on the table. Dean looks at the guy sitting there and freezes.

They don’t have any classes together but Dean has seen him on the campus. He’s kind of hard not to notice with the blue strands in his hair, piercings and various tattoos covering his arms revealed by a black tank top.

Dean watches him as he plays with his lip ring, immersed in reading. Dean’s eyes travel over his figure and stop on the tattered bag lying by his feet. It’s covered by a collection of badges claiming him out and proud in many creative ways.

Dean looks back up at the guy’s face. He’s attractive in a unique way. Dean feels his heart beating faster and he mentally scolds himself. The fact that he’s gay and attractive doesn’t change anything. He’s not the kind of person Dean would ever gather the courage to approach. Not if he hadn’t to. But he needs the book.

“Ehm, hey?”

He looks up and Dean almost gasps. It’s not only that his face is beautiful, there’s something so intense in his look that it takes Dean’s breath away.

He gives Dean a once-over before he speaks in a voice so deep it gives Dean shivers. “Hello.”

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Library AUs
  • You’re in my spot AU
  • It’s a week before finals and you’re actually sitting in front of one of the computers on a laptop??//??
  • You found me crying in the corner because I have no idea what my assignment even is
  • You keep requesting the book I need so I can’t have it the whole time and we leave each other passive aggressive notes in the margins
  • “Can you please help me reach the book up there? I’m too short to reach it and you’re the hottest tall person I’ve seen around”
  • I don’t mean to sound like a creep but I couldn’t help but notice you borrowed my favourite book and I just wanted to tell you that you’ll love it
  • I don’t mean to sound like a creep but I couldn’t help but notice you borrowed my least favourite book and I just wanted to tell you that you’re gonna hate it
  • Your headphones aren’t plugged in all the way and I can hear your music
  • I fell asleep and you’re the person who woke me up when the library started closing

I’ve been cracking myself up thinking of like a college au where Dean just took his patronus quiz and he’s pissed because he got some tiny animal like a cat or a fucking weasel (which is what I got wtf jo) so he’s seething to his best friend Cas who is like really indifferent, trying to study during Dean’s rant until Dean asks what Cas got and Cas says “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I haven’t taken the quiz.”

And Dean immediately pulls out his laptop, muttering “What the hell Cas we have to know NOW. Damn Ravenclaws always too busy studying to do the important things…”

“Ravenclaw?”

“Yeah that’s your house isn’t it?”

“I don’t know.”

And Dean rolls his eyes. “How do you not know your house?”

“I haven’t taken that quiz either.”

And that launches Dean into another fit because what kind of self-respecting Harry Potter fan hasn’t been sorted into their house?

“But Dean, I’m not a Harry Potter fan. I’ve never even read the books.”

Dean is positively scandalized. He cannot believe his ears or his eyes staring blankly into the face of a man with no shame or remorse for the poisonous confession that had just escaped his beautiful too-pink lips.

“HOW HAVE WE BEEN FRIENDS FOR TEN YEARS AND YOUVE NEVER READ HARRY POTTER?!”

“I didn’t know it was a requirement?”

“Have you seen any of the eight movies?”

“There are eight?”

“OH MY FUCKING GOD CAS.”

Cas has the decency to put his book down. “Dean, I think you’re overreacting.”

“This is not overreacting. I’m friends with a heathen whose never read Harry Potter. Like you couldn’t even be one of those cheaters that just watched the movies, Cas, honestly?”

“It never appealed to me.”

“Who are you?”

Cas rolls his eyes. “Dean, if it means that much to you, I will take the quiz.”

“Oh no no no. You have to earn the quiz. We have work to do, Novak.”

And so is the story of how Castiel Novak lost a weekend of studying to marathoning the entire Harry Potter series.

When he finished Dean allowed him to take the sorting quiz. And as predicted he was a Ravenclaw.

Dean rolled his eyes at the result. “Typical.”

“Is it really that big of a deal?”

“Is it a big deal?” Dean scoffed. “Getting sorted into Hufflepuff was the second greatest identify crisis of my life, right behind my sophomore year sexuality crisis.”

And Cas looks skeptical but doesn’t argue because he remembers Dean’s sophomore year sexuality crisis and it was quite a mess.

He lets Dean show him to the patronus quiz and tries not to feel anxious as Dean paces behind him like this animated test determines his entire future. 

“I’m an owl.”

Dean sinks onto his bed, a small pout bending his lips. “Oh.”

“Is that bad?” The quiz doesn’t give an explanation, so Cas has no way of knowing if the owl symbolizes something deeper in the Harry Potter universe. Maybe it’s a bad omen.

“No, it’s just… don’t owls eat weasels?”

Cas squints. “I suppose, yes. They eat rodents and small vermin, which would include weasels.”

Dean glares at him. “Wow, thanks, Cas.”

“I don’t understand why you’re disappointed. I’m not going to attack you, Dean.”

And Dean is red now, trying to avoid Cas’s gaze. “I know. But I- I thought we’d be something more… compatible.” He fidgets, releases a resigned sigh. “Makes sense I guess. We’re really different.” Of course Cas is something far better than Dean, something bigger, fiercer, stronger. Something that could easily sweep him up and consume him whole like he was nothing.

Cas shuts the laptop and moves closer to Dean who still can’t look up. “Dean… I don’t know the implications of these animals as you might. But from what I gathered in the movies, they are a pure manifestation of one’s happiest memories. It is not the shape of the patronus that matters, but rather the essence. This quiz made a decision based on a few random parts of my personality, but it never asked me what my happiest memory was. Would you like to know?”

Dean can only nod.

“It was my first day at Lawrence Middle School. I was scared and angry and a group of boys were making fun of my bee socks at lunch. And just when I was at the point of tears, a scrawny kid in a Batman shirt jumped in front of me and poured chocolate milk all over Gordon Walker’s head.” Cas chuckled fondly, just thinking of it. “Then he sat across from me and gave me half of his pb&j.”

Dean is beat red and barely breathing. “You didn’t even like it because of the jelly,” he murmurs because it’s all he can think to say.

“And you stopped putting it on your sandwiches after that so you could share with me.”

“Cas…”

Cas reaches across the small space between them to cup Dean’s jaw and gently turn Dean’s face to look at him. “We may be very different, Dean Winchester, but you have had the single most profound effect on my life since I was eleven years old. You are my happiness,” Cas leans forward, Dean’s eyes glazing over and lips parting, “and I don’t need a quiz to tell me that.”

When their lips meet, Dean forgets all about quizzes and balls of light. He feels Cas’s hand slide to the back of his head, tangling in his hair as Dean’s own hands clutch at Cas’s waist to hold him close, keep their lips pressed together in an endless first kiss.

It’s soft and a little awkward, it’s breathtaking and a bit sloppy, and it’s pure magic.

Loosely based on a true story of my friend and his girlfriend during her college graduation and the rest of us just couldn’t stop awwing because GAH

Ao3


Castiel is graduating and Dean isn’t here.

It’s a horrible feeling, knowing his boyfriend isn’t with his family as he walks across the stage, but Castiel understands why, to a degree. Dean works the graduation ceremonies. He kinda needs to do that if Castiel wants  to graduate at all, but still…

Which leads to now, Castiel waiting with his fellow Arts and Humanities college graduates as the timer counts down to zero, at which point they will all walk out into the arena and sit down for about two and a half hours of speakers until they walk across the stage, have their name called, hear applause as they walk across, take the stage helper’s hand on the stairs to avoid falling, and walk back down to their seats as college graduates. It was routine at this point to Cas, he himself having been to enough of the rehearsals whenever Dean was working them to know what comes after what. He had thought he’d feel a little different when the graduation would be his own, maybe with his best friend cheering him on and congratulating him with a kiss at the end, but instead Dean will be somewhere else making sure the entire graduation runs smoothly as a Marshall or helping the vice presidents run errands or something else that he’s done before.

Keep reading

imagine dean and cas have both grown up together, best friends, and they’ve graduated college and like. neither of them have exactly found that someone and they wanna focus on their careers for a little while right and so they’re like “hey let’s live together for a while” so they adopt like 3 dogs (golden doodle, obviously golden retriever, and pretty brown lab) and they find a stray black cat in the shelter looking for a fourth dog (“dean, is she not gorgeous? look at her eyes! she has blue eyes like my own! i’ve never seen a black cat with blue eyes, it must be so rare. this means it is meant to be, cmon, dean”) and turns out the cat gets along pretty well with dogs according to the shelter and so dean is really out of arguments and unfortunately the blue in luna the cat’s eyes reminds him a terrible amount of cas’ and so of course he gives in and cas hugs him so enthusiastically dean doesn’t even complain as much as he planned to when they have to keep going to buy different allergy medications because his body gets used to each different one and it stops working and about a year and a half passes by and wow dean is so fucking in love with cas and wow cas is bringing home some guy named Balthazar that he’s been seeing for two months and as much as he loves cuddling with his beautiful golden retriever it seems like the cat just understands (maybe it’s the eyes) and so he finds himself constantly telling luna all of his feelings while she stares at him with big eyes and their golden doodle rests her head and paw on dean comfortingly while cas and Balthazar are out celebrating their 2 year and when cas comes home he looks wrecked but…. at peace??? and dean’s heart is aching because honestly what the fuck did bitch-a-zar (yeah, dean calls him that in his head. So Fuckin What) do to the love of his fucking life (also yeah, dean accepted this wasn’t just a crush a while ago) (by a while ago he means literally like three weeks ago because dean refusing things is just so much easier in his head but hey, his break through happened) and it’s as if cas can sense dean’s concern-hidden-by-protective-anger and says “he didn’t break it off, dean. i did.” and then he makes his way to his room and tuts so that Luna follows, but not before she gives dean a look that basically says “stop being a little bitch and tell him” (what the fuck. cats are weird) and when cas doesn’t come out of his room the next day for their weekly Saturday movie night (neither of them has missed a day since mary died. that was 16 years ago) dean decides to go in and is confused when he sees cas crying with bloodshot eyes (not because he assumed he’d be fine, but because cas is such a loud cryer and he hasn’t heard him all day) but willing to listen if cas would just fucking look at him and he knows cas knows he’s standing there and god dean knows this is the worst fucking time to do it but he just wants to tell cas how he feels and instead Dean says, “cas?” and when cas responds with a broken, “dean, please. i know tonight’s movie night but i just.. i can’t bring myself to it. i haven’t cashed in my one time out. please let me use my one time this time.” deans heart is actually breaking as he says, “as long as you’re okay with using your one time on an asshole like that.” all that seems to do to cas is make him cry slightly more, and dean hates himself immediately, fuck what did he say what did he say what did he say, and cas says, sort of bitterly, but more directed at himself, not dean, “trust me, Balthazar is amazing. in another life, i probably could’ve married him.” and deans heart Fucking breaks in half, literally, he hears the tearing of it, he swears, and dean says “why don’t you do it now?” and he knows how broken that just came out but he doesn’t care he just fucking wants cas to be happy and then cas says, “im in love with someone else.” and dean is surprised, because that’s so unlike cas, to not tell dean about this kind of thing, and says after a moment, “you’re sure it’s love?” and when cas scoffs deans already half broken heart aches, “trust me. the way he makes me feel? ive never been more sure.” and dean is about to just say okay awkwardly and leave before crying his own amount of heartbroken tears in the privacy of his own room, but then cas continues, “I never thought I would have my definition of love, I never thought I would truly know what it was. I thought I had it with balth, but.. I was wrong. I knew I was wrong when he proposed to me yesterday and I was thinking ‘his spaghetti looks good’.” cas scoffs, at himself this time, “god, the answer’s been in front of me the whole time. almost my entire life.” and then he puts his head in his hands, as dean says, “cas, who has you all worked up like this? is he really deserving of you stopping your life like this?” and now cas gives out a laugh, but it’s bitter, this time directed at both himself and dean, saying “you would disagree, but he deserves everything I could ever give him and more. he’s imperfect in the best way,” and dean responds, “i know him?? who is he?” and dean regrets asking the second he does because he’ll never be able to be civil to that friend ever again, but dean realizes cas has said it and dean couldn’t hear him because he was wrapped up in his own thoughts and cas’ words were still mumbled by his own hands and when dean says, “who, cas?” again, cas stands up suddenly and crowds dean against the door frame and wow, who needs breathing, dean doesn’t, “you.” cas puffs a breath of air into deans face, eyes closed, as dean processes what’s happening, “it’s you, dean. you’re the reason I broke it off with Balthazar. youre the one that deserves everything in the world. you’re the one I’m in love with. you’re the one that gave me my definition of love.” and cas’ eyes aren’t closed now, but they’re downcast, and dean gets his attention by reaching out and touching his cheek with a gentle hand and a quiet, “cas, please kiss me” as they make eye contact and well, if a year later dean proposes to cas with a piece of paper attached to Luna’s collar and cas does the same thing on their golden doodle’s collar, then, well, that’s their business

lafitte  asked:

Prompt: “Are you okay?” “Why do you ask?” “Because you’re wearing two different shoes.” ( *whispers* do IT )

Prompt #145
Thanks, Vans!!

It was a shit day, okay?

He woke up exactly 42 minutes late, his phone hadn’t charged over the night, the 10-page rhetoric essay that was due in —fuck, fourteen hours —was barely half finished, he missed the last bus and it was raining. Of course it was fucking raining.

Castiel springs through puddles, backpack hugged to his chest because he forgot his umbrella and the last thing he needs are his laptop and school books getting soaked.

He chances a look at his phone, barely clinging to 8% of life, and the clock tells him with little sympathy that it’s 9:00 a.m. He’s late.

It takes another four minutes to reach the academic hall and he barrels through a gaggle of associate professors and onto slippery linoleum.

The classroom door sings the most pitiful announcement of his presence, making Cas cringe and drawing seventeen pairs of eyes. Cas meets one particular pair, glazed with a mix of humor and concern and Cas grimaces in response, trying to discreetly lower himself into the desk closest to the door.

“Rough morning, Castiel?” Dr. Harvelle asks, eyes going back to her sheet of notes.

Cas sighs, too shaken to take the barb in stride. He stares down at the beige tabletop of his desk. “Yes, ma’am.”

Dr. Harvelle calls the class back to order and Cas breathes easier with every eye that leaves him. But he can still feel one gaze and refuses to look up again because he doesn’t want to talk about it. He just gets his laptop out, opens a blank Word document, and tries to speedily type up all the notes projected on the white board. 

He’s just finished the slide when a text alert pops into the right corner of the screen. 

Dean: Are you okay?

A hundred answers come to mind but Cas doesn’t have the energy to lie or tell the truth.

Cas: Why do you ask?

Ah, deflection. 

Dean: Because you’re wearing two different shoes.

Cas’s head whips down and, sure enough, he has one white sneaker and one red.

He straightens and stares ahead blankly for a moment before leaning back in complete defeat. He doesn’t hear another word Dr. Harvelle says for the rest of the hour.

Keep reading

I Dream of Cassie

Ok, but a modern-day genie story, where Dean is the poor sap who ends up with the genie’s lamp.

He’s just some random college student who’s overworked and underpaid and completing an internship on top of a full load of classes. He’s barely holding his shit together, but he just has one more semester left, and he’s in the clear…when he’ll have to get a job to start paying off his student loans. Whoopee.

And then one day, he somehow ends up with this weird-as-fuck looking lamp thing, but he doesn’t realize it til the thing tumbles out of his shoulder bag after a long day where he was hauling ass all around the city for his stupid internship. So he has no idea where the hell this thing came from or whose it is. But as he goes to pick it up, it slips out of his grasp, and out pops this dark haired, glowy, blue-eyed genie who’s giving his whole spiel about “three wishes, rules, blah blah blah”

But the thing is, Dean’s heard about genies, he *knows* how the tricky little fuckers work, so he refuses. Plus he’s not on board with the whole “enslaved to you for eternity” thing; this is the twenty-first century, goddammit. So instead of using the wishes, he just sticks the lamp on a shelf and tells the genie (Cas, as he comes to learn) that he can just hang out in the apartment until Dean figures out who to get the lamp to.

And at first Cas is kind of miffed; how the hell is he supposed to bring about some well-deserved just desserts if Dean won’t actually wish anything?? But Cas kind of likes the freedom that he suddenly finds himself with. Like, Dean is the chillest fucker Cas has ever met, no matter how much Cas complains.

. “I’m bored!”

“Welcome to the internet. You can use my laptop anytime.”

. "I’m cold!”

“Thermostat’s right on that wall.”

. "I’m hungry!”

“Fridge is through there.”

So Cas decides to bide his time; Dean is going to slip up at some point right? Right… but the thing is, Dean doesn’t actually do much in the apartment. Between work and classes and the few friends he manages to keep up with, he’s only in the apartment long enough to shower, scarf down some food, and crash for the night.

Even so, Cas begins to notice…things. Like how Dean’s bummed about a test grade, or pissed about a group project where someone’s not doing their share, or coming down with the sniffles. And at first Cas ignores it; why should he, an immortal, all-powerful creature, deign to notice the plights of one insignificant human?

But as time passes, Cas realizes that Dean isn’t just some insignificant human; he’s probably the best damn person Cas has ever interacted with, and throughout millennia of being stuck in that lamp, Cas has interacted with more than his fair share of awful people.

Dean takes time to talk to the genie at the end of the day, no matter how tired he is. He always makes sure there’s enough food in the fridge. And even though Cas doesn’t actually need to eat (he was just complaining to be an annoying little shit), he begins taking the time to eat with Dean.

And as they eat together, it’s natural that certain topics will come up. Dean asks Cas how he became attached to the lamp, Cas asks Dean how he ended up with an internship in a department he hates. They figure out it’s pretty much the same answer for both of them: wrong place at the wrong time.

After a while, Dean starts to feel bad because the genie’s kind of stuck in limbo without a purpose now. He tries to figure out if there’s a way to free Cas, but apparently there’s this whole ritual that involves the blood of a virgin’s firstborn and the root of a tree that hasn’t grown in over 4 thousand years. So pretty much Cas is stuck with him until they can figure out the rightful owners of the lamp…which probably won’t be until after the internship ends—sorry, Cas.

Not that Cas really minds. Once he got over the whole “no more wishes” thing, he actually started enjoying his time with Dean; he’s like the brother Cas lost when he was enslaved to the lamp. Right? Because that’s totally what’s happening here; these emotions he’s experiencing are totally platonic, like what one would feel towards a sibling or good friend. Definitely nothing more than that.

But brothers and friends can still do nice things for each other. So, even without any wishes, Cas begins to help Dean out (unbeknownst to Dean, of course; he made it perfectly clear at the start that he doesn’t want or need Cas’s help). That class that Dean wasn’t doing so great in? He found someone who’s willing to tutor him for free. The slacker who wouldn’t help on the group project? Suddenly got expelled, so he won’t affect the group’s grade anymore. Those sniffles? Gone.

And Dean appreciates what Cas is doing, even if he doesn’t realize what’s really happening. And Cas is so careful about it, only doing things that could be explained through means other than magic, because he knows that if Dean ever found out, he’d be pissed…and that would be the end of Cas’s good thing with Dean.

And he’s helping Dean! Dean seems happier, and he smiles more, and his laugh comes out more easily, and he’s actually spending more time in the dorm resting and just hanging out with Cas. Things are going pretty awesome, until it comes around and kicks the genie in the ass.

Yeah, that tutor that Cas specifically found to help Dean? Totally hitting on him every chance she gets. And when Dean first tells Cas about it, he can’t figure out if Dean’s pleased or not. And it drives him to distraction because does he like this girl back or not, dammit?

And Cas doesn’t wanna push it; if Dean wants to date some idiot bimbo who thinks with her implants and not her brain, so be it. No big deal, right? Except that it totally is and it bugs the shit out of Cas. But he decides that he won’t interfere; he’ll let nature take its course.

Until the night Dean comes back with a black eye. Apparently the tutor tried to seduce him into taking things further, like to the back seat of his car, and when Dean refused, the girl defaulted to typical college drama queen and started sobbing and berating Dean instead. Which, of course, caused her older brother to freak out at Dean, which led to the brand new shiner he’d be sporting for a few days, at least.

And Cas is about to storm out and find this bitch ass to set her straight about how she treats wonderful, spectacular people like Dean. But before he can get very far, Dean’s grabbing him by the wrist, just a gentle hold that should mean nothing to an immortal, all-powerful creature, like himself, but it stops him more effectively than any warding sigil.

“Cas,” Dean murmurs, a rueful smile on his lips, “it’s not a big deal. Honestly, the girl and her brother were both so shit faced, I doubt they’ll remember it.”

“But, but…” Cas flounders.

He brings his free hand up, his fingers brushing ever so gently against Dean’s stubbled cheek, just like he would if he were about to heal him. But he doesn’t, even though it would be the easiest thing in the world. He can’t; it’ll be way too obvious. All of the other things he’s done for Dean have been simple enough to explain away through non-magical methods, but this… this would be definite and deliberate, and Dean would know. And he probably wouldn’t be very appreciative.

Cas’s eyes flicker to Dean’s, prepared to see confusion at Cas’s hesitation or even distaste at their closeness. What he doesn’t expect is…fondness? Amusement?

“Go ahead,” Dean allows. “I know you want to.”

“Want to what?” Cas hedges, keeping his face carefully neutral.

“I know what you’ve been doing, Cas,” Dean admits, and Cas freezes.

“What have I been doing?”

Dean rolls his eyes as he slowly trails his fingers down the inside of Cas’s wrist that he still holds, his palm warm against Cas’s as he tangles his fingers with the genie’s.

“Suddenly finding a tutor after weeks of searching?”

Cas shrugs, his eyes sliding down to hide his lies. “You put out a lot of feelers; one had to bite eventually.”

“Gordon getting expelled out of nowhere?” Dean continues, ducking his head so he can look right into Cas’s eyes.

“He was using, and he cheated on practically every assignment; he did that to himself,” Cas mutters stubbornly.

“My cold clearing up practically overnight?” Dean presses, his fingers tightening around Cas’s.

“It wasn’t that bad of a cold…” Cas whispers guiltily.

“It took Jo and Benny out of classes for almost a full week,” Dean counters.

Cas finally looks back up at Dean, his cheeks flaming.

“Okay, so I helped you out a few times,” Cas finally concedes. “I just…I wanted to do something for you after how nicely you treated me.”

“Is that it?” Dean wonders, but his green eyes are still teasing and kind.

Cas’s blush worsens. “No, I suppose not.”

“What is it then?” Dean whispers as he slowly ducks in to bring his mouth closer to Cas’s.

And at first Cas can hardly believe it; Dean knows and he’s not mad! What’s more, he doesn’t seem upset by Cas’s affections…if anything, he seems to reciprocate them! Cas’s mind circles around and around until finally, he realizes that there’s really only one course of action to take.

With a strangled whimper, he moves in to press his mouth against Dean’s, the fingers of his free hand that Dean isn’t holding still stroking against Dean’s cheek. Dean smiles into the kiss, but it’s not long before his lips are too busy for even that.

When they pull apart, panting heavily and smiling dopily, Dean’s black eye is gone.

“Thanks, Cas,” Dean says as he moves back in.

“Anytime, Dean,” Cas replies between kisses.

Later, when Cas and Dean are curled up together on the couch watching Dr. Sexy, Dean asks, “Why did you want to keep it such a secret?”

Cas frowns at him. “You made it perfectly clear when we first met that you didn’t want my help.”

“No,” Dean says, “I didn’t want your wishes. I’ve read enough lore to know that those things come back to bite you in the ass.”

“Well, not always,” Cas admits. Dean arches a brow at him. “The wishes are meant to teach a lesson, but if someone has a truly good soul, then no lessons need to be taught.”

“Are you saying I have a good soul?” Dean wonders, his brow furrowing.

Cas smiles as he smooths his hand over the lines that have appeared there. “You are, by all accounts, a righteous man with a good soul, Dean Winchester. And if I have to belong to someone for the rest of time, you are the one that I would wish for.”

He leans in for another kiss, which Dean readily grants.