cas kitty

anonymous asked:

What if Jack was super allergic to dogs and he pretends that he isn't for like three months to preserve Gabriel's feelings but then the first time he goes to visit Gabriel's place his eyes immediately water and turn red, his throats is itchy, and he's sneezing up a storm

jack, hardly able to breathe, still petting gabe’s dog while gabe frantically calls 911: im fine… what a good dog… gabe i love him…

I’ve been following http://ask-the-baby-angels.tumblr.com/ for a while now, and I’ve been dying to write a little ficlet for it. WE’LL CALL IT AN AU IF IT DOESN’T WORK INTO THE CANON OF THIS LOVELY ‘VERSE.

Dean was allergic to cats. It wasn’t bad. He didn’t need an epipen or anything. He just sneezed sometimes, and his eyes got itchy if he touched a cat and forgot to wash his hands. 

This was how he rationalized what he was doing right now, under the protection of a heathy does of Benadryl. 

Dean and Sam didn’t know exactly when Cas and Gabe’s birthdays were. A lot of folks didn’t are about that stuff when it came to their angels. So…they made them birthdays, and Cas’s was coming up. Already they’d gotten him some solid presents (bumblebee footie pajamas with a hood that had antennae on it were a highlight), but Dean just – damn, he wanted to do something special for the little guy.

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Hunters and Angels

Dean the kitty-cat has been growling regularly at the invader constantly perched on his fence outside the window, convinced the stray is up to no good. Until his owner, Charlie, brings the ratty thing inside.


“Now you two, be nice to Castiel,” Charlie was saying as she opened the door to the cat carrier. “He’s here to be your new friend.” Green eyes narrowed, Dean balanced on his haunches, staring into the carrier with his tail tensely straight behind him. Sam, who was sitting beside him, seemed more curious than anything, his long, fluffy brown hair flat in comparison to Dean’s orange tabby coat.

A pair of blue eyes stared out from the shadows of the carrier.

“I don’t like this,” Dean hissed out, Sam glancing to his brother only quickly before beginning to creep up on the carrier. Long whiskers twitching, he sniffed around the edges, at the opened door and the top, before bowing his head to look inside again. A low growl was what he earned in response, Dean releasing another hiss as he darted up and pushed Sam out of the way.

“Dean!” Sam was affronted by his actions, but stepped aside accordingly despite his greater size.

“Dean, be nice,” Charlie scolded from where she was standing back beside the couch. Grumbling some to himself, Dean forced his hair to lie flat before scooting away and sitting back on his haunches again. Some moments passed in silence then, both Sam and Dean blinking with attentive green eyes as they waited for the thing inside the carrier to do something.

Eventually, as if spurred by brave curiosity, the shadow inside began to creep a bit forward. A dark nose was sniffing at the plastic floor, whiskers twitching in the same way Sam’s had previously. Until, finally, there was enough light to make out a familiar shape.

“You!” Dean hissed, his hair spiking again. Blue eyes flicked to him, big ears twitching. Yet the newcomer didn’t shy away. Instead, as if unaffected by Dean’s intimidation, he continued to poke his way forward. Until he had a single paw reaching outside the carrier, neck stretching tentatively up to look around the apartment.

“Oh, you’re the stray that hangs out around the fence,” Sam determined, an excited shiver running down his spine. The newcomer glanced to him then, having to look up. Sam was quite large for a feline, Dean determining that the new guy—Castiel—was about his own size. Fluffier however, though not as fluffy as Sam. As he crept completely out of the carrier, Dean saw that his hair grew thicker along his back, poofing most at his tail. He was dark with brown accents sifting beneath the black. His chest and around his whiskers were a snowy white, as well as the end of his tail. He was thin too. Much thinner than Dean ever remembered being.

“Where am I?” Castiel turned his question on Sam, blue eyes narrowing some. “You’re the ones from the other side of the clear wall.”

“The window?” Dean deadpanned, ears back as he sat up. He refused to be pleased about this. “It’s called glass. And yes. This is our side.”

“You’re being rude,” Sam scolded, flicking one ear as he looked to his brother.

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