Some Sunny Day snippet #3

For those of you following this, here’s something to let you know I’m not dead or giving up on this!

(Also, all of this is un-betaed, so I appreciate any feedback you can give!)

————-

“I want to get my Dad something for Christmas,” Bobby heard Sam saying to Castiel one day. The two brothers were staying with Bobby while John was on one of his longer hunts, something John probably wouldn’t have left to the elder Singer if Sam hadn’t begged to go see Castiel. And once his son knew that the Winchesters were going to be over for Christmas, Bobby was forced to go find the biggest damn tree that could fit in living room. Idgits.

“Well, what do you want to get him?” Castiel meticulously threaded a piece popcorn along a line of fishing wire and glared at Dean as he was stealing pieces to eat. “Deeean,” Castiel growled (an interesting feat for a ten-year-old, thought Bobby) and levitated the bowl away from Dean.

Sam, coloring paper Christmas ornaments, shrugged. “I don’t know. Something that would protect him while he’s out fighting bad guys!”

Dean grabbed a chair and reached for the bowl hovering midair, just inches from his fingertips. “That’s stupid. Dad doesn’t need any protection. He’s too awesome.”

“I don’t know,” Castiel said, moving the bowl further from Dean’s outstretched fingers. “It wouldn’t hurt to have extra protection, especially if demon’s are involved.”

“Dad fights demons?!” Sam asked, slacked jawed. 

“Maybe,” said Castiel. 

“Don’t me stupid, demon’s don’t exist,” Dean sneered before taking a flying leap for the popcorn bowl. Castiel grunted with the extra weight as Dean hung from it.

“Yes, they do.” Castiel lowered Dean slowly, gently down, eyes fixed in intent concentration. “And if you’re that determined to have popcorn, why don’t you go make some more?”

“Because, it wouldn’t be any fun like that,” said Dean, grinning as he clutched his prize. “Go make some more for your girly popcorn string, I’ll eat this. And, no, they do not, stupid.”

Castiel stared at Dean with a growing look of confusion. He opened his mouth to protest when Bobby decided now would be a good time to intervene. 

“Castiel, just drop it,” Bobby said from his desk. “Dean, for God’s sake, go make more of the damn popcorn.” 

Both boys looked him with offended faces, both protesting over each other.

“But, Dad, you know demons—”

“Why do I have to make it—”

“Shut it, you idgits!” 

——-

Part of my on-going project: Some Sunny Day. For more, check out these posts here, here, and here.

Some Sunny Day snippet #2

Castiel got his first tattoo the day he turned eighteen. It was a Dean day. He woke to find the hunter leaning against his door frame with a smirk, saying that he’d just been ‘passing through’ and holding a badly wrapped present. 

“So, I thought I’d drop by and give you a present,” said Dean, grinning as he held out the package.

Castiel put his cigarette out in the already overflowing ash tray by the door and studied him with a slow smile. Ignoring the present, Castiel stepped into Dean’s space and linked his arms around Dean’s neck.

“And what a wonderful present you are.” 

If it was possible, Dean’s grin grew even wider.

——-

Off this post. Thoughts?

collapseddominos, leriaiv, alexisrider and last-halcyon-days started following you

Thanks for all the support!

Some Sunny Day snippet

“What psychic have you seen that can do this?” asked Castiel, blue eyes glaring at John.

John’s brow furrowed and his mouth opened to speak, but shut with an audible clack of teeth when the kitchen cutlery levitated itself out of a kitchen drawer.

“What the fuck?”

Singer sighed and removed his trucker hat to run a weather beaten hand through his hair.

“As you can see, John Winchester, I am not just some psychic.” Castiel’s voice was low and dangerous. Dean inwardly shivered. “I am much, much more than that.” 

————— 

A few notes: 

This is not a 2014 future DeanCas story. I think my first post here was a little misleading.

Also, this is becoming a pretty big project. I’ve already got a track list. XD I’m writing at least 20 chapters before I start posting on AO3. Otherwise I feel like I’ll abandon it.

But, I’ll be posting a lot of snippets here! Hoping for some feedback or just interest? 

opheliaimmorta1 started following you

Thanks for the support on my fic! :D

mishatrollinssss started following you

Future DeanCas fic: Some Sunny Day

Dean met Castiel the year he turned eleven. His dad had heard of a very powerful psychic living in South Dakota with another hunter. January was icy this year and Sam was asleep his breath fogging the glass on the back window.

Bobby and Castiel Singer lived in a salvage yard outside Sioux Falls. Dean wasn’t very impressed with the overgrown lawn, stacks of junked cars, piles of broken and old engine parts, and the weatherbeaten house sitting outside the junk yard when his father pulled the Impala over the gravel drive and under the sign that read Singer Auto Salvage.

“Stay here,” his dad growled as a man stepped out on the house porch wearing a flannel jacket and a trucker hat. Dean rolled down his window as John approached the man.

“Bobby Singer?” 

“Depends on who’s asking,” the man snarled. Dean didn’t think he really liked him.

“John Winchester,” John said, as amiably as he could, holding out a hand. When Singer didn’t move, John growled. Dean definitely didn’t like Singer.”I’m looking for a psychic. I heard from Rufus Turner that one was here.”

Singer sneered and cussed. Dean automatically looked back at Sam to see if he was still asleep. “Fucking Rufus. Look man, there ain’t no psychic here and—”

“Daddy, what’s going on?”

Dean’s head swiveled around in time to see a boy with messy dark hair come around the corner of the house, an old hound dog trotting at his heels. He stopped at the sight of John and Singer facing off at each other on the porch. Dean thought he was probably younger than Sam. He was skinny despite the many layers he had on and snow was collecting in his hair. 

“Castiel, get inside,” Singer snapped.

“Wait, listen Mr. Singer, I just want to talk to him a second.”

“Listen here, son, you better get off my pro—”

“Dad, it’s okay,” all eyes fell on the boy as he approached John. “Mr. Winchester really needs to talk to me. It’s very important.”

Singer looked at his son in shock. “Cas—”

“Maybe Dean and Sam would like to come in where it is warm,” he said, turning his eyes to the Impala and Dean. 

His eyes were the bluest things Dean had ever seen.

———————

I’m wondering if I should continue?

UPDATED here and here.

AC is dead.

IT IS NOVEMBER, GEORGIA. This heat needs to GTFO, and it needs to be cold. I have nearly every goddamn window open in this house, and I am dying. Ugh.

Meanwhile:

Still freaking out over this Hunger Games trailer. SO MANY WANTS.

I need this movie like I need air. Almost as much as I need the second series of Sherlock. 

OMG, MARCH, Y U SO FAR AWAY?