The Angel Cake Challenge

detective-me:

almaasi:

Closeted bisexual Dean tells a gay couple they look cute together, and they encourage him to make a move on Cas. // 8k canon!verse Destiel fic, subtle crossover with Good Omens. (no Good Omens knowledge required)

Frankly, the beach was a disappointment.

“Sunshine, sure,” Dean said bitterly, ambling along with a closed umbrella slung over his shoulder, a frown behind his sunglasses. “Sand, alright. There’s the sea. Big whoop. It’s all brown. Sea’s too cold. Sun’s too hot. Where’s the ice cream? Where’s the kids running around building sandcastles? Where’s the hot chicks, huh? What’s the point if there’s no hot chicks?”

“I imagine,” Castiel said, walking beside Dean with his hands in his trenchcoat pockets, “we could pick a spot on the sand and sit. Enjoy the refreshing breeze.”

“Yeah, and even that smells gross,” Dean complained. “I smell seaweed and sewage.”

“You were the one who wanted to come out to the beach, Dean,” Sam said amicably. Dean looked back with a sneer, observing how his brother was perfectly happy to already have gritty sand scraping his feet from inside his sandals. Of course his hair was mussed by the wind but not tangled. Of course it was. And then he had the audacity to say: “Just enjoy it!”

“Enjoy it,” Dean uttered, stomping on a loose chip packet as it blew along the beach. “Puh.”

“This place is great!” Jack cried, running back to them from way out ahead. “Did you see the rock pools? There’s little crabs in there! Castiel, you’ve got to come and see! Come on!”

Castiel gave Dean a placating smile, though his eyes were lit up brightly, letting Jack take him by the sleeve and pull him away. “I suppose I’ll catch up with you two later?”

“Hey, what,” Sam laughed. “I’m coming too! I wanna see crabs.” He handed his beach-towel-and-sun-lotion tote bag to Dean, and ran off with the others, the three of them windswept and sun-sparkling like overgrown children.

Dean pouted, all alone, in the shadow of a cloud.

“Stupid sticky air,” he grumbled, scowling at the damp sand below him. “Stupid weekday.” He looked around. “At least let there be pie.” He mentally crossed his fingers.

His eyes lighted upon a little storefront on the left of the beach, up past a brick wall and across the boardwalk and unpainted road. The store had a delicate blue sign, crammed between an antique store and a nameless bookshop, and declared itself to be a Parisian-inspired bistro.

Bistros served beer and pie, right? Beer and pie, as a combo, could fix anything, right down to the sand in Dean’s socks.

Dean started making his way up there, assuming (correctly) that the others would sniff him out the moment they realised he wasn’t still sulking on the beach, waiting for the sun to burn him.

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This is such a cute fanfic 11/10

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  10. deanabean reblogged this from almaasi and added:
    Alright!!! I’m melting right here ppl… Omg the sweetest!! What’s going on with the sweetest?!!!!
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    Holy shit this is gorgeous.
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