tiptoe39 | turn that frown upside down

I probably won't have a chance to read anything until I get back from my interview late this afternoon, but it would be really lovely to have some Dean/Gabriel schmoop to come home to? Maybe some cuddling and smooches after Dean's been hurt on a hunt?

*huggles* I'm sorry you're depressed bb. If there's anything I can do to help, let me know? Love you!

♥

SPN or PSME, sharing a meal with family (blood or otherwise).

~~Really, just anything that isn't sad would be awesome.~~

Neither Dean nor Gabriel is the cuddly sort, not by a long shot. They're not holding hands in public, they're not using endearments unless they're facetious (but honey bear, I told you that the ice cream would melt all over the floor, so clean it up, schnookums!), they're just not doing any of that. If they have begrudgingly decided they honestly just like each other enough to live together, and if the sex is good enough (and is it ever!), that's not because of some fairy-pants, Pollyanna, spoon-gaggingly romantic love. It just works. There's no need to shout it from the rooftops.

But sometimes, just once in a while, Dean comes back from a hunt with blood caked in his hair and the dying breath of an innocent lingering on his fingertips. He scuffs his shoes on the mat, looking down, trying to see if the guilt will come off with the grass and mud.

And Gabriel, who's been watching the Three Stooges since 3 p.m., stops mid-laugh and rises, his eyes bright with concern. He doesn't say a word, because any word would be wrong. He just comes over, stands with his toes at the edge of the mat, and raises a palm to Dean's face.

Dean's still looking down. "You're wearing those striped socks," he says. "I hate those damn socks."

A moment of wavering, a slight pressure of Gabriel's hand, and Dean crumples forward.

His head bows into Gabriel's shoulder. There's a comforting smell there, like caramel and coffee, and he holds tight as Gabriel guides him across the floor and down onto the couch. There are grown men poking each other in the eye and getting hit by cream pies on the TV screen, and the manic regularity of their movements is something like comfort too -- a reminder that life still moves on in the background, quick and ridiculous, when the heart comes to a standstill.

Gabriel folds his knees, lets Dean down to lie in his lap. Perhaps he's meant to sleep there, but Dean just stares at the striped socks until he can't stand it anymore. He sits up. "Those are so distracting," he complains.

He gets a tilted head and a quirked brow in response. And for the first time since the hunt went bad, Dean finds the strength to smile.

SPN, Dean/Castiel, pie

I would totally love some Dean/Cas cuddly goodness.

Castiel/Meg, eating pizza (and that's not a euphemism XDD)

Fandom: Supernatural

I talk to God as much as I talk to Satan
'Cause I want to hear both sides?
Does that make me cynical?

Any POV/pairing. Gen's okay, too. Go wild, if you wanna. <3

There are, on occasions, times when Haruhiko's father has time to eat with them. If Haru's in the hospital, he'll hang his hat on the hospital room door and sit down for a family meal prepared on identical cafeteria trays; but when Haruhiko is at home, those are the high points of his year.

His father's stout, jolly, and he looks more Italian than Japanese; between him and his wife, it's remarkable that Haruhiko looks Japanese at all. He likes to cook, too, and when he's home Haruhiko will look up from his magazines and smile as he hears his parents jostling and bantering in the kitchen over the sound of the rice cooker's jumping. The rich smells of broiled fish and seaweed fill the house, and Haru's heart feels stronger already for having those scents in his nostrils and filling up his lungs.

He runs down the stairs, and his mother puts her hand over her heart, afraid the exertion will finish him off, but not even death could keep him from the dinner table.

They kneel on the mats, and Haru flushes with the steam of the soup rising into his face. He looks healthier then than he ever does, and his mother's hand is on her heart for a different reason now as he shovels away rice and talks about dinosaurs and science and his lovely dreams of the "pretty girl in the moon," as his father calls her.

Soon there will be a seismic shift in Haru's life. He will meet a man named Tamura who will become the full-time father he's never had. But right now, not knowing what that's like, Haruhiko is too fragile to be bitter. And these moments are bright gleaming rays of sunlight, treasures for all of them.

In a H50 mood, sooo Steve/Danny, lazy from heat. :)

Sam and Gabriel (or Sam/Gabriel. It's so much harder to hide at night.

Dean Winchester's Ode to Pie

Pie is delicious.
It's delicious when it's apple.
It's delicious when it's blueberry.
It's delicious when it's cherry, and no I don't mean that kind, but yeah, well, that kind too.

It's delicious when you eat it with your hands.
It's delicious on the end of a fork.
It's delicious hanging off an angel's lips, with the taste of his mouth just beneath the taste of the whipped cream.
(Her mouth. I mean her mouth. Of course.)

It's delicious when you bite off a big piece.
It's delicious with each little nibble.
It's delicious licked off an elbow or fingers or sometimes a thigh, with crumbs everywhere so you've got salty and sweet at the same time.
And it's delicious when you're not the one doing the licking.
(Shut up, Sam, I'm pouring my heart out in epic poetry here.)

Pie is delicious in every flavor, on every plate, and eaten with every topping and utensil you can imagine.
And on every body part.
And... yes, God damn it, all right, it's delicious when I'm fucking sucking it off Castiel's cock, OK? Are you happy now? For crap's sake, Sam!
(...Sam?
What's that look for?
Wait, you didn't...
you didn't know?)

Aw, crap.
I'll be right back.
Just... leave me a slice of the damn pie, OK?

*applause*

May I have a D/C wing!cuddle if you're still responding to prompts?

Did I miss the band wagon on this one? Is it still too late to add something? How about some femslash: Anna/young!Mary back in the seat impala sex!

Hope you cheer up soon.

Something 3some-y? No pairing preference, just mmf.

"Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and all the angels in heaven, it's fricking cold out," Dean says. He looks over his shoulder. "Uh, no offense, there, Cas."'

"None taken." Castiel is wrapped in a turtleneck wrapped in a blanket on the couch, and he's huddling against a mug of cocoa. If he had salt-and-pepper hair, he'd be a goddamn Christmas special.

Dean resumes shedding his coat; the sweater he's got on underneath is threadbare, and as he puts the groceries on the counter his hands ache, so brittle he thinks they're going to snap right off. "Aren't you cozy."

"You could join me." Said, always, in that low, casual tone that drives Dean crazy to this day trying to figure it out.

"After I put the eggnog away, genius." Brittle hands or no, Castiel looks like the definition of warm and toasty over there on the couch, so Dean moves quick to rid himself of the groceries. It doesn't even occur to him to ask for help; Cas looks too perfect all nestled up there, and Dean couldn't think of shattering that picture.

He's thawing a bit by the time he gravitates to the sofa and forces his stiff legs to bend. Castiel raises the blanket like a cape, setting his cocoa aside on the end table and opening mug-warmed hands to curl around Dean's jaw. "You are cold," he murmurs, pressing his lips to Dean's in a soft greeting.

"D-duh," Dean starts, but his jaw stutters, half undone by the cold and half by the kiss. He curls up the lower hem of Castiel's turtleneck and flattens his palms against the angel's stomach; Castiel hisses with the sudden cold and Dean chuckles and sighs as warmth starts to bleed into his fingertips.

Castiel's eyes droop; he leans forward, drawing Dean into his arms, and presses their foreheads together. "You need to warm up," he says.

"Remember what I said about 'Duh'?" Dean arches an eyebrow at him; this close, his vision is out of focus, and three or four sets of eyelashes blink back.

"Perhaps I just like to hear you say it." Castiel's fingertips dance up Dean's spine, and a different kind of chill assaults Dean's senses in their wake.

"That's a strange thing to like." Dean's warming up now, gut first, and he presses his mouth to Castiel's again, feeling the sweet surge of want fill his still-cold toes with tingles.

"I like your superior look," Castiel says, and the secret smile on his face is so very knowing that Dean can only think there must be secrets inside it. He pulls the blanket over them and goes searching.

Oh... *wibbles* This was perfect. Angsty or not, this was beautiful. ♥

XD XD XD

Oh my god, how are you so awesome?

"This is very problematic."

Meg looks at Cas, who is looking at a string of cheese still tying his slice to the box. She licks a smear of tomato sauce from her lips. "You're too funny."

Castiel scowls. "I do not wish to violate hygiene, but there are no utensils here with which to detach--"

"Use your hands. Geez, you'd think we'd never swapped spit before."

Castiel reaches out, curls a finger around the lingering string, and pulls. It comes apart with a bounce that plasters the cheese against his face. He frowns, crosses his eyes as though trying to look at it. "I really don't like pizza," he says.

"You haven't even had any yet!" Meg swallows her mouthful and leans back, kicking her feet up onto the table. "Come on, Clarence, it's not gonna bite you."

"It already did." Castiel peels the cheese off his cheek and gazes dubiously at the greasy piece. "And I can't use a fork?"

"You eat pizza with a fork, you're going to a hell even I can't get you out of," she said. "It is a cardinal sin. Roll up and go." She bends her slice in half and takes a big bite.

Castiel attempts. He looks rather more like he's trying to trap a wild beast, opening his mouth wide and attempting to guide the pizza in with a quick stab that misses and spatters tomato sauce on his cheek.

Meg sighs and throws up her hands. "This isn't working," she says. "Clearly I'm gonna have to feed you."

Castiel hunches forward. "I can feed myself." He manages to put his mouth around a bite and chews defiantly at her, still red-cheeked from his earlier, less successful encounter.

She gets up and plunks herself in his lap. "Still," she says, licking a stripe of marinara from his skin, "I can't let all that good food go to waste."

you inspire me.

*hugs* I don't like it when my flist is sad. So - could I ask for some Mamoru/Usagi fluff?

And failing that, some Gabriel/Sam in a library fluff would be nice, too. :)

I can do dark. I am PMS-y too.

love you bb, glad you enjoyed it

Ava's not completely gone, you know. She's simply weighed the options on the table. Go and meet her maker at the hands of one of the others, or take control of the situation and at the very least delay the cold hand of the Reaper before it takes her.

She's prayed on it, but God doesn't talk. The yellow-eyed demon, though, he talks. He talks a good line, and he makes good promises. Ava doesn't trust him either, but so far, he's made good on everything he's told her.

Like the way her power has opened up. Like the way the demons treat her with something resembling respect. Like the way she barely flinches now, the way the fear has drained from her body the way the blood drains through the floor after each one of the others dies.

She thinks the demons might drink it up. In which case it's a win-win. It keeps them happy, it keeps her from having to clean it up or destroy evidence, and if they're drinking her victims' blood (how easy it is to think of them as victims without remorse, now!) they're not getting thirsty for hers.

Maybe that makes her cold-hearted, or cynical. But Ava feels like she's given every side a fair shake. She knows which side her bread is buttered on, and frankly, it's even starting to be fun.

I'm adding my voice to the chorus here:

SPN, lying in a quiet meadow or lawn

Sam/Cas, Sam/Gabe or OT4- whichever suits your mood.

♥

Oh God, this killed me. XDDDDDDDD

*rolls on the floor*

turn that frown upside down

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this came out super angstyyy and not very schmoopy at all.

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pre-series

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i imagine they're a bit older here

Re: this came out super angstyyy and not very schmoopy at all.

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Re: this came out super angstyyy and not very schmoopy at all.

rare character tiem

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