i know i'm late but oh well


the best, most charismatic and handsome mc

Sterek: Stiles is fresh out of FBI class in an obscene white button up and tie and Derek just finds it incredibly sexy
Requested by @nogitsunelichen

deancas, fluff, Halloween 🎃, ~1100 words

summary: Cas gets transformed into a fluffy black kitten on Halloween and Sam and Dean take a little while to realize…👻

Halloween was kind of a curse, especially in the Men of Letters bunker.

Dean would be lying if he said that weird things didn’t happen just a little more often on the thirty-first of October. Their first Halloween, Sam had spent the entire day uncontrollably weeping. Sure, Dean had found it kind of funny after the initial concern had worn off, but then an hour later, when Dean’s own eyes had gone puffy and red, he’d naturally been a little more eager to race for the books. Whatever the curse had been, it’d broken after midnight, and then with their mutual eagerness for repressing the embarrassing, they’d never talked about it again.

The second Halloween at the bunker had proved to be just as trying. Fifteen vengeful spirits had emerged from their resting places, all hellbent on courting Cas. Dead women had stalked Cas everywhere, tearing the bunker apart with their squabbling as they’d fought each other for his affections. That Halloween, Dean had been especially grumpy, and after Cas had wondered aloud if the spirits could simply be put to rest if he went along with their flirtations, not only had Dean found, salted, and burned all of the women’s remains, he’d also accomplished the said task within a whopping total of thirty-one minutes. In fact, Dean’s research skills had been so admirable that day that Sam had been green with envy for the six hundred and sixty-six hours that had followed this remarkable feat.

So it was no surprise, really, that when the clock struck midnight and Halloween reared its ugly head again, that upon discovering a fluffy black kitten with blue eyes licking its paws and nestling on his bed, Dean immediately called Sam.

And after that, it was all panic.

Cue Sam and Dean warily circling the bed, Sam with a net clasped between his fingers, Dean with a bottle of holy water all ready to spritz away every ounce of Satan that the kitten contained. Hell, they were traumatized men, hardened from years of fighting Halloween battles, and they weren’t letting the twisted holiday mess with them this year. With a jerk of his head, Dean motioned for his brother, and after a bit of a struggle (notably chasing the little devil as it evaded Sam effortlessly), the kitten was finally ensnared.

Two minutes later, the kitten was staring up at them with pitiable blue eyes, dripping wet thanks to how expertly Dean had handled his spray bottle throughout the chaotic affair.

“Let’s kill it,” Dean said, and all it took for them to abandon their murder plans was for the kitten to poke its nose into the back of Dean’s hand and let out a tiny little Mew.

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