title of the photograph featuring a leather jacket the raven boys would love.

Dwight, in Many Words Michael, in Many Words

by Gabrielle Edgecombe

#theoffice #dwightschrute #michaelscott

Y YO A TI

by Anna Parsons

#supernatural #destiel #deancas #happyending #foundfamily #spoilers

TW: Mentions of death, implied PTSD

Dean allowed himself one last glance at Jack’s sleeping face before he finally backed out of the nephilim’s room and closed the door.

“He’ll be fine,” Cas assured.

Dean shook his head as he turned to face Cas. “Nothing’s ever ‘fine,’ not with Jack. Not with any of us. There’s always something that goes wrong, and after the shit he just pulled, how am I supposed to expect everything to just be...fine?” The Winchesters paid in blood for moments of joy. Smiles were lethal, and Jack had brought Dean back from death. He’d bargained with the Empty even though last time, it had cost Cas his life. “You’re only here because Jack was stupid enough to make a deal to get you out!” Cas set a heavy hand on Dean’s shoulder, drawing his attention so their eyes met. “Chuck is powerless. We’re no longer his pawns, and he can’t hurt us anymore. No one controls us.” “Jack made a deal with the Empty—” “To silence it. All the Empty wants is sleep, and Jack made that happen. The Empty returned me in exchange. It’s over.” Dean ran his hand through his hair and tugged at the short strands. Paranoia crawled beneath his skin until he couldn’t stay still any longer and strode away from Jack’s room. Cas followed Dean down the hallway until the two of them reached the map room. There, Dean planted his hands on the table and hung his head. “Do you really believe that?” he asked quietly. “You really think it’ll be that easy this time?” “I do.” Cas circled the table until he stood across from Dean. “There is no God, Dean. Jack released that power into the universe after he brought us back. We have free will to use as we wish.” Jack had ripped up Chuck’s script and thrown it away, but that didn’t mean the curtains would close. Chuck could’ve left behind one more trick, a twisted last laugh to take them down once they finally relaxed. Dean grimaced. “What do we do when everything goes funkytown again? Demons won’t cut deals with Sam and I anymore. Jack’s about as powerful as a goldfish right now, and your angel batteries are dead.” Cas’ gaze dropped to the table. “About that…” Bright light erupted from Cas’ body. Dean squinted into the blinding white as it faded, revealing a Cas who Dean hadn’t seen in years. Cas’ eyes glowed piercing blue, golden light danced in his palms, and his trenchcoat fluttered when two enormous shadows slowly unfurled behind him. A faint, high-pitched keen rang through the air. Above them, a lightbulb exploded in a shower of sparks. “Holy…” Dean trailed off. He couldn’t look away even after the light faded and Cas’ wings disappeared. “I am.” The corner of Cas’ lips tugged into a slight smirk. “Jack must have recharged my batteries when he brought me back. Even my wings were repaired.”