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Yes, Dean, there is a Castiel.

@yesdean-thereisacastiel / yesdean-thereisacastiel.tumblr.com

Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernatural beauty and glory beyond.

Incredibly Single & Ready to Mingle

Dean/Cas AU 3.6k [ao3]

Sam posts an awful photo of Dean on Facebook… as far as retaliation tactics go, it doesn’t quite pan out.

Downstairs, Sam is listening to annoying, twangy country music at full volume, and Dean has the kind of hangover usually reserved for tourists stupid enough to buy roadside moonshine in New Orleans.

He didn’t even touch the hard stuff last night. It shouldn’t be possible to feel this sick from the cheap beer he’s been drinking for years without consequence, and yet here he is. One wrong move away from hurling every cookie he ever ate. It’s not even remotely fair. It’s Charlie’s fault, he knows that much.

Last night had been his twenty-fourth birthday, and he’d decided to make it a quiet one at home.

Just a few friends, a couple of drinks, a little music. It started out that way. But then his best friend—currently on probation for that title, he decides now—suggested they watch the Star Wars trilogy. And then someone else suggested they take a drink every time Chewbacca makes a noise, and every time a stormtrooper actually hits the thing they were aiming at, and chug continuously any time the force was being used to choke someone.

Soon, Dean was drunk enough to start digging through the cupboard under the stairs for something to do, pulling out old toys and clothes and halloween costumes that Mary had elected to keep for reasons unknown. After that… he thinks there was singing. He’s not entirely sure.

Loud and Clear

A/N: For howboutnovak who needs some fluffy feels today. If you feel so inclined, please go give her some love! — Fake boyfriends AU. ~5400 wc. 

Dean’s been avoiding Sam and Jess all night. He feels like shit for it, they are the couple of the evening after all, but he’s afraid they’re going to want to meet his date. The date he absolutely doesn’t not have.

Three months ago, when Jess had asked Dean if he’d be bringing a plus one to the wedding, he’d said yes. At that time, he’d reasoned three months was plenty of time to find a date.

Now it’s the night before the wedding and while Dean doubts it’s really that big of a deal, he doesn’t want to disappoint them. They’d both seemed so happy to hear he’d be bringing someone along.

To make matters worse, the first person Dean saw when he’d arrived at the rehearsal dinner was a guy he absolutely despises.

Castiel J. Novak. Yeah, the J. was important, apparently.

He’s a mutual friend of Sam and Jess’, a guy they’d gone to law school with, and the handful of times Dean’s met him, the guy’s been a pretentious, smart mouthed, asshole; always looking at Dean with his mouth pulled into a frown, like he doesn’t approve of Sam’s less educated older brother who’s perfectly content with working on cars for the rest of his life rather than feeling like he needs a fancy law degree to feel like someone important.

So yeah. So far Dean’s night has been hell; most of it spent glaring at the back of Castiel J. Novak’s head.

Knowing he can’t avoid the happy couple forever, Dean goes easily when Jess catches his eye and motions him over to the drink table where she and Sam are taking a breather from accepting well wishes for their future together. It’s finally time to bite the bullet and confess, he decides.

"Dean! I feel like I haven’t seen you all night!" Jess says, pulling Dean in for a hug when he comes to stand in front of her and Sam.

"Didn’t want to be in the way," Dean offers.

"You’re not in the way, Dean." Sam counters, and Dean can practically hear his brother proverbially rolling his eyes.

Dean shrugs.

"So where are they?" Jess asks, her eyes bright.

Dean swallows and offers his soon-to-be sister-in-law a sheepish grin. “Where are who?” Nobody ever said playing dumb was a good idea, but it will certainly prolong the conversation for just a bit longer, and at this point, Dean will take whatever he can get.

Jess lets out a laugh. “Your date.”

"Oh, right. My date. They’re uh-" as Dean’s brain scrambles for an explanation a figure looms next to him. The guy’s probably just there to refill his drink, but knowing immediately who it is by the stiff posture and smell of tea tree, Dean grabs the man’s arm and tugs him over.

"Cas," Dean says, "Castiel J. Novak is my date."

Things I want:

For someone to worry about Dean.

For someone to take notice of Dean’s pain

For someone to tell Dean that he is special

For someone to go out of there way to help/protect Dean

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Castiel. The thing you just described is called a Castiel.