@maliciouslycreative replied to your post:
Deancasjimmy with Cas trying to cook something.

lmao I like how it’s gone into “however many sentences I feel like”. But this was beautiful. Poor Cas. He needs a hug.

Cas needs all the hugs all the time.
And yeah, lol. I was doing good in the beginning but… yeah. No self-control.

Deancasjimmy with Cas trying to cook something.

Logically, Dean knows that smoke alarms are a good thing. They make his job as a firefighter a lot easier than it could be and of course if it weren’t for one smoke alarm in particular he never would have met either one of his beautiful, clueless boyfriends. Currently, though, he was tempted to rip the damn thing out of the wall and stomp on it. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Cas says through a cough, running water into the pan of… god only knows that he’d been attempting to cook. 

Jimmy, already on the step-ladder and turning off the alarm, chuckles. “It’s alright, Cassie. Cooking isn’t your cup of tea. You can’t win ‘em all.” 

Cas pouts, wiping his hands on the apron he stole from Dean to cover his clothes. He crosses his arms over this chest. “It shouldn’t be that hard.” 

“Yeah, well, you come by it honestly. Mom could burn water, remember,” Jimmy says. 

Cas huffs. “Yes, I remember.” 

“Besides,” Dean says, “I’m sure Mrs. Tran appreciates it. We buy enough egg rolls to send Kevin to Harvard as it is.” 

Dean narrowly dodges the sponge lobbed at his head. 

However-many-sentences-I-feel-like AUs!

*cough* reylo wings *cough cough*

I’d say something, but I don’t have the right words to shame you so just pretend I’m pointing at you and stammering, k? K. 

The first time she sees them, Rey gasps. They’re broken, horribly mangled things at his back, more bone and scabbed flesh than feathers, but she supposes they were beautiful once. Perhaps they were gray once, and soft like the down of a small animal instead of the singed black they are now. 

She wants to reach out, to stroke the small clusters of feathers he still has into submission. She attempts as much, and her fingertips brush against his flight feathers before he pulls back, the shock in his eyes mirroring her own. 

She has a thousand questions. Why hadn’t she seem them before? Where was he hiding them? What is he? 

However, what comes out of her mouth is: “Who did this to you?” 

The door slams and he’s gone seconds after the words leave her mouth. 

3 (or whatever I feel like) Sentence AUs