It was 11:42 when Dean woke up. 

It was on this Sunday, the 21st, that he had the scarce pleasure of waking up when his clocked showed double digits. Only on rare occasions, demons would cease reeking havoc, monsters would stop their mutilation, and Angels would take a vacation from terrorizing each other. 

Sure, the supernatural never really stopped their shenanigans, but Sunday brought around no actual need for Sam and Dean to go hunting. 

The soft sound of The Rolling Stones echoed down the hallway, accompanied by the smell of burning pancakes. Mellow beats beckoned at Dean, inviting him into the bunker’s kitchen, where a much less mellow scene was unfolding. 

Cas ran from stove, to oven, to microwave, to fridge, a facade of vexation contrasting his normally relaxed cerulean eyes. “Good morning, Dean,” the Angel said, not looking up from what looked like his 6th burning pancake. 

Dean sat down next to his brother, who was chewing on an egg McMuffin. “I went out and got it 10 minutes ago,” Sam whispered, his voice hinting at amusement. “He didn’t notice.” The corners of Dean’s mouth lifted, leaving an entertained smirk on his face. 

“Havin’ trouble there, Bobby Flay?“ 

"I appreciate the compliment, Dean, however I am no where near as culinarily talented as Chef Flay, for I can barely follow these directions correctly.” Dean smiled at Cas’ misinterpretation. 

“Hey if it’s no trouble,” Dean said, hoping Cas would take the white flag, “can you just butter me an English Muffin? I’m not really feeling pancakes.” “Of course Dean,” Castiel said, shoulders falling in relief. He quickly toasted the muffin, and smothered it in a whole pat of butter. 

“Wow, Cas,” Dean said, playing up his enthusiasm for the simple breakfast. Crumbs fell from his full mouth as he spoke; “This is incredible,” he gawked. 

Electric blue eyes lit up with pride. 

“You could say it’s Angelic,” Sam said, laughing at his own pun, and then checking for reactions. Dean chuckled and played along. 

Godlike,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Seriously Hot Wings,” Dean said, watching for Cas’ modest smile at his endearment. “You would do well in London. Open up a little café, just for English muffins and booze. I’d be your #1 customer." 

"Actually,” Cas said, his tone of voice queuing a tangent lesson. “Contrary to popular belief and the misleading name, Londoners don’t eat English muffins as we know them in America. That style you’re eating now more of a U.S. thing." 

"Well I don’t know man,” Dean said, now on the defensive. “I’ve never been to London.” Cas’ butter knife clattered to the ground, and his eyes widened in disbelief. 

“You didn’t know that, Cas?” Sam cut in, looking up from his iPad. “Yeah, Dean and I have never been out of the country." 

"We’re probably on the no-fly list, too,” Dean said. “Thankfully,” he added, shuddering at the thought of flying 7 hours over the sea. 

“We’re probably on it 6 times,” Sam said, laughing. 

Determined, Castiel said, “Well I’ll just have to take you one day.” 

"I’m afraid this is the only free day we’re gonna have for a while, Cas.” Dean shook his head slowly, thinking of his truth in a hope of doubt. “We don’t exactly have vacation days in this job." 

"We’ll go now then.” Cas said, placing a hand on each of the brothers’ shoulders. 

Sam stood up immediately, Cas’ hand still resting on his shoulder. “CAS NO." 

Dean grabbed Cas’ hand on his arm, "CASTIEL WAIT!" 

A herd of people recoiled on one side of the clear-capsule shaped container, confused and terrified by the two randomly traveling men they’d just witnessed appear out of thin air. 

 As soon as Cas let go of Dean’s shoulder, he collapsed onto the oval shaped bench behind him. "That was draining.” He stated, and then looked up and caught Dean straight in the eye. “Enjoy yourself,” he commanded. 

Weakened by the intense opia thrust upon him by the Angel, his immediate response was “Yes, sir.” As monotonous as his answer seemed, Dean was eternally appreciative of Cas’ spontaneous vacation. 

Dean supposed he’d never really loved Cas more than he had right then. 

Tearing his gaze from the Angel, Dean joined Cas on the seat almost instantly, realizing where they were. “The London Eye, Cas?!” He yelled, horrified. “A huge, spinning, ring of small containers suspended in the air!?” He clutched the edge of the bench, as if for his own life. 

“I thought you would like it,” Castiel said sourly, rubbing his forehead. “Look at the view,” he ordered. “It’s beautiful." 

Trusting the Angel, Dean tentatively stepped toward the clear edge of the car, looking at the huge bell tower across the river. "Big Ben?” He asked, turning and catching Cas staring at him. 

“No.” The Angel said. “That’s Queen Elizabeth Tower. Big Ben is the bell on the inside." 

"Oh,” Dean said like a child, turning back to the view in awe. His mood was abruptly and pleasantly different, instead choosing to enjoy this opportunity he’d surely never get again. Suddenly, Dean whipped his head around. “Cas?" 

"Yes, Dean?" 

"Where’s Sammy?" 

"I dropped him off at J.K. Rowling’s house." 

The J.K. Rowling?“ 

"Well I’d imagine there’s more than one Joanne Kathleen Rowling in the world but if you’re referring to the author of the Harry Potter series then yes, you would be correct." 

"You can’t just do that,” Dean said, not trying to sound angry, but his voice betrayed him. “He’ll be arrested." 

"He’ll be arrested happily.” Cas snarked. 

“Mind the gap while stepping out of the car,” an accented automated voice cut Castiel off. The other tourists in the car fled from Dean and Cas as fast as possible, but Dean took his time. 

Mindlessly Dean said, “can we go again?” His back faced the exit off the car, eyes still fixed on the huge clock tower. 

“Later,” Cas said, ushering Dean out of the Eye with a hand on his lower back, unintentionally, he told himself. 

The busy wistfulness of rainy London streets hit Dean as soon as he stepped out of the car. 

“Don’t forget to catch your free boat tour!” A peppy hostess cheered, helping a still weak Cas out of the Eye after Dean. 

“Boat tour!” Kid-in-a-candy-shop-Dean said, grabbing Cas’s wrist and blazing a trail through the foreign people. 

“And there,” the boat tour commentator said, pointing at a rooftop restaurant. “Is one of the most upscale/expensive restaurants in the city of London. You see those people up there?” He pointed at some people on the balcony. “They’ve just gotten their bill and are deciding whether to pay or to jump into the river." 

Cas watched as Dean’s eyes crinkled when he laughed. He stole a glance down at Dean’s perfect smile, and then looked away again, afraid he’d get caught. After another few minutes of silence between the men, Cas nudged Dean and pointed at the bridge above them. "Waterloo bridge.” Cas said. “The only bridge in London built entirely by women. All the men were off fighting the war. It’s also the only bridge completed on-time and under-budget." 

Dean chuckled. "One point for the women. How do you know-” he paused, remembering who he was talking to. “You were there, weren’t you." 

"Well, I wasn’t there physically, but I was alive yes. Hannah would not shut up about it." 

"Did the listen to Abba while they built it?” Dean said, laughing to himself.

“You’re going to have to explain that to me,” Castiel said, catching on to what he’d missed so many times before. 

“Forget about it,” Dean said, his hand landing on Cas’s thigh. He left his fist there for a minute until the guide began to speak again. Already knowing what the guide was going to say, Castiel’s face got flushed, and he built his confidence ever so slightly. 

“This is the railway for Blackfriars Bridge,” He said, pointing at the bridge above the boat. His mic produced some feedback, and then he continued speaking. “Legend says-” More feedback. “Legend says-” Feedback again. He switched off the microphone and put it on the deck. “Legend says if you kiss the one you love under this bridge, you will have years of happiness to come." 

Castiel sat inside his quiet drama for a second before a fleeting moment of confidence hijacked him. He leaned over slightly and placed a chaste kiss on Dean’s cheek. Almost instantly, Dean touched his perfectly freckle-dusted cheeks where Cas’s lips had been just a second ago. 

"People will see,” Dean enjoined. Despite his tone, Cas could see no worry in his face, only the empty effort to disagree with Cas’s actions. “I do have a strong feeling of affection for you-” Castiel said. “And Sam.” He finished, deciding to play it safe. 

“What dictionary is that from?” Dean joked, lacing his fingers between Cas’s nonchalantly. 

“Webster,” Cas smiled, admiring Dean’s hand intertwined with his. 

“These lions on the side of the river are to signal overflow,” the tour guide said after another hour on the river. He gestured toward mounted bronze lions heads, just above the river Thames. “Our old rhyme says ‘if the lions heads our ducked, London is well and truly’-” the tour guide winked. “Flooded." 

Dean turned to face Castiel’s head on his shoulder, to see if he’d gotten the joke, but the Angel was sleeping. Dean wanted to wake him up, solely for the purpose of talking to him, but he decided against it, respecting that it’d taken lots of juice to fly the Winchesters to Europe.  

Another half hour went by, and the tour guide yawned; "That concludes our tour for today,” stepping to the side of the boat to help everyone off. When nearly everyone was gone, Dean gently ran his hands through Cas’s hair, waking him up as slowly and delicately as possible. 

“It’s time to go, Angel,” Dean whispered into his ear. “Are you too tired to take me home?" 

"No,” he yawned. “I’ll never be tired of you,” he misinterpreted again, but Dean let it slide because he was clouded by sleep. 

They stood up, and Dean suddenly pulled Cas’s body closer into his, locking their lips for what felt like forever. 

They could’ve stayed there forever. 

When he released, they were back in the bunker kitchen. “I owed you for the bridge,” Dean said, smiling down at a radiating Castiel. 

“No, you owe me for the whole trip,” he said. 

“Well I’m going to bed,” Dean said. “If I really owe you that much you’ll come with me." 

tags: @deanwinnchesterisbae @destieldrabblesdaily @deans-amoureux

thanks! ps go easy on me this is my first time writing fanfic for anything let alone destiel

He had no idea why he had decided to leave Australia earlier than he planned. But just being around his mum right now was too toxic. He had arrived to the house during the early morning hours, good god for that. Sitting in the bar and drinking some vodka, he sighed when he heard someone. “Excuse me, what?” he said and looked at the person, looking like someone who had just been jumped by twenty men.

anonymous asked:

I've been following your blog for a while now and I know you're really sweet so I just don't know if you're not aware or if you're just ignoring all the evidence but ... You ship sheith ? You're welcome to ship whatever you want but it's a bit disturbing to know you ship a minor with an adult who was also an instructor at the garrison ... Yeah I can see why it would be cute but I truly don't think shiro would be comfortable in a relationship with one of the students ... With a kid ...

okay dear anon, this is going to be really difficult to reply but, here we go.

I think, first of all, we need to stop mixing fiction with reality, we really need to stop saying things like “oh since you ship this/you write this/you draw this it means you’re a disturbing person” because it doesn’t work this way. Fiction is not the same as reality, end.

and no, I’m not saying this to excuse myself, second of all, I don’t really know which evidence are we talking about? I guess it is about the late teens thing and Shiro being 25, let’s stop assuming that we all live in the same country where at the age of 21 you’re considered an adult, because it is not the same everywhere. you’re an adult at the age of 18 where I am from.

I really like Shiro and Keith’s relationship because honestly you can see that they care about each other, they seem to be close and also they seem to know each other really well (me myself I don’t understand how some people see this as abusive) 

Also, even part of the v/oltron staff were just having fun with the s.heith ship as you can see here, nothing serious of course it was just that, for fun as it should be in the fandom, until I don’t know who went wild and started to spread the hate everywhere.

Based on the argument of “you ship an adult with a kid and it is disturbing” then we all wouldn’t be able to ship anything because they’re all a bunch of kids (except for Shiro in this case), and yes I have seen nsfw content of almost all the ships around tumblr and twitter, so that would make us all disturbing people, right? but of course for some reason Sh/eith gets all the hate.

again as I always say, some of us are here just to have a good time, you don’t like the ship? that’s fine block the tag, unfollow, avoid, but don’t go harassing people’s blog telling them to stop shipping something just because you’re uncomfortable, because maybe something you like can make someone else uncomfortable and then you wouldn’t like them to harass you about it, right? let’s be respectful. Even Josh Keaton (Shiro’s VA) said a little something:

and honest to god can’t believe some people started to hate him for saying this, this fandom is going too far.


the calendar // panic! at the disco