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mgkconfessions · 3 years

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AMAs 2020 2/2

The tattoo

Actually she got the gunman as a tattoo, because the gunna or gunner would be el artillero. I guess that didn’t sound as nice so she went with el pistolero, but it isn’t really his nickname and with everything that she pretends to know about Kells, it makes me laugh that this is what she wanted on her body to honor him! Says a lot about who she is as a person and what version of Kells she cares about in this relationship. She got a nickname of his stage name, not his real name. She’s all about MGK and doesn’t give a fuck about Colson. Even Col would have been better for a love tattoo and would have been a lot more personal and shown him that she accepts and loves Colson too and not just MGK. But el pistolero only makes her look like a groupie who is excited to date her favourite singer and she’s obviously living out her bad boy fantasy with him. It’s even more tacky, because she’s supposed to be his real first love and serious girlfriend, but all she cares about is his public fame side and she only needs Colson to make MGK depending on her.

It’s embarrassing and she should get it removed as quickly as possible! Maybe she can get Brian’s tattoo removed together with Kells’ then :). Don’t feel bad for her, first time it’s a mistake, but second time it’s a choice. She or they want to be stupid, let them be stupid. They have to live with the tattoos and public humiliation.

No, she said that she got his nickname, but we only ever heard her call him Buddha and Lamby, so we joked around which one she would choose and for her own sake she should have gone with Buddha, because that would have been the one that people would associate the least with Kells.

We talked about the tattoos and Banyan Tree before, but absolutely not planned at all Megan properly revealed the tattoo for the first time on her red carpet debut with Kells to get more attention for it. And even less calculated she started rumours about it only shortly before with the fan pictures. I assume that Kells is next with a public love declaration, maybe we will see his M.F. tattoo for her that I will forever read as mother fucker ^^! I assume it’s somewhere near his crotch or hip or on his butt cheeks. If it’s on a body part that we have seen then it’s very unnoticeable. The tattoos are real, but I believe that they didn’t show them on purpose to reveal them at the best time for the most media coverage. Imagine that’s how your relationship is like. Everything is planned to fit into your PR strategy! Sorry to say this, but Kells isn’t smarter than this. He does and says stupid things all the time and whatever you thought about Kells doesn’t apply to his 2020 Megan Fox version. This isn’t Kells anymore, this is Richard! Old Kells would have never done that, but Richard surely does these things and calls the paparazzi to become more famous. Kells has a tattoo for Casie and got it quite early on. It’s right under his nipple, close to his heart :)! I don’t think that Megan has any tattoos for her kids tho, she seriously got a tattoo for Kells before she got one for her own children!

Apparently neither of them learned anything from the past tattoos and relationships. Megan got the second time a tattoo for a man who she knew around 3 or 4 months at that time although her last relationship and marriage didn’t last either despite having a tattoo of Brian’s name. An anon said that the woman on Kells’ side is about a comic figure, but I couldn’t find a picture of that comic figure with a mole on her face which Kells’ woman has and Hedi has one too. Then with the caution band around it, I still believe that it means that he should be careful with women like Hedi and still with that tattoo on his body he’s dating someone even worse than her now. Neither of them learned anything from their past mistakes, we can only hope that they will do it now when their relationship ends. I don’t think that the fang tattoo has anything to do with Megan, because his Instagram caption was “take me away from all this death” and I think that it’s more about how he has lost so many friends and important people in the years that he wants to be taken away from it and vampires are also dead but still alive.

It’s so many things this year that made him incredibly unattractive! I honestly can’t even imagine them having a normal conversation with each other, so I don’t think that there was any discussion about their tattoos for their exes. I don’t see them bringing up topics that might be a sensitive spot for the other one so that they will never fight.

She did this the second time now. I don’t know why after Brian she didn’t realize that tattoos for your boyfriends aren’t a good idea and especially not for guys who majority of people believe to still be capable of cheating, because they’ve done it in the past all the time.

They were already doomed when Megan decided that he was her twin flame on the second day, but the tattoo is an amazing symbol for a relationship that will fail too. :)

It’s just Megan trying to be edgy and cool. From all of his nicknames and symbols she could have got for him as a tattoo, the wrong version of the gunna just shows that she’s obviously living out her bad boy fantasy and she wants to be the hot chick at the side of this bad boy MGK LMAO! ^^ It doesn’t fit to her caring about his well being tho and that he calmed down, which I doubt he has, and since she’s pouring him Tequila and emotionally manipulated him from the beginning, I don’t think that she truly cares about him either. She’s dating his image and his celebrity, but not the real Colson. Kells struggled so much with accepting that there’s Colson too and his own girlfriend gets his “nickname” as a tattoo, but even she only cares about MGK. Megan hasn’t seen Kells’ party and wild side yet when he’s on tour and on stage performing. Would she still want to date him if he was sucking on girls’ boobs on stage, hip thrusting them into the crowd and have sex inside the tour bus with multiple girls? I don’t think so, because remember Megan was the one who got him out of the fast lane and Colson Baker doesn’t need more women anymore or that whole party lifestyle. No, he’s an obedient lamby to Megan now :)!

Pregnancy rumours

Megan isn’t pregnant. At the AMAs she had a little belly, but she’s a mother of three and even skinny people can have a small belly. The shiny fabric only emphasized it. Last year in December she had a little belly too and wasn’t pregnant. It’s probably just her figure or she was bloated. Also it doesn’t seem like Kells got any other girl pregnant since Casie’s mum and he has been smoking a lot of weed every day for years too. I think he takes children quite seriously and I don’t really see him accidentally get a girl pregnant, not even Megan. And Megan didn’t sound like her body could take another pregnancy either or like she wanted more.

Kells’ post

I honestly think that her finger was the only thing that he could grab of her lmao! ^^ With all the other pictures from that day and the way Megan announced him, it looked like she didn’t even want to take one of their couple mirror selfies with him that day. Kells was ready to take the picture and trying to get her in front of the mirror too, but she didn’t want to. Even her smile isn’t really a smile. It’s like she was awkwardly saying “yeeeaah” to appear like she wanted to take a picture and was having fun too, although she hated being there or maybe she wanted to give us a different facial expression, because they always look so serious in their mirror selfies and now she wanted to show how much fun she can be in a not very convincing way tho. It looks awkward and they seem off in that picture too.

I think that he did sleep with a gun right next to him, however not all the time, because Casie has been sleeping in that bed too and who took the gun away then? Not Megan! Because she wasn’t even around that time! He needed an Instagram caption that again would make everyone believe how real and deep their love is and how much she changed him into a new man :’). I can’t take anything seriously that he says about them, because he’s always doing too much and it’s always the same old story just with different words. Also what does it matter if she made him put the gun away when she’s enabling him in his alcohol excesses. For the boys sharing their pictures, I don’t believe that anyone of them cares a lot about Megan and is very interested in getting to know her, because she’s dating their friend. Kells went to the AMAs with Megan of course they will choose their couple pictures to post about it.

Watching AMAs

I believe that Megan only came to watch the show and then left, because her signature water bottle left the table eventually and Megan wasn’t on any of those pictures anymore either and when Kells was in the kitchen with many others too, Megan wasn’t there and she’s usually where Kells is. I assume that the food wasn’t organic and sushi enough for her and instead of bringing something as well that she and others could eat from too, she didn’t eat there and left early. I believe that she really only came to watch it. She doesn’t seem to like his friends anyway. It must have been embarrassing for her to see her announcing Kells and Travis on television in front of everyone! It’s funny how nobody filmed that part of their performance to put it on Instagram ^^.

Twitter Trends

You know what’s sad? When Megan Fox and Sydney Sweeney were both trending on the day of the AMAs, but Kells the guy and reason for them to even have the opportunity to be trending on Twitter, wasn’t. Kells’ performance wasn’t amazing and one time he even sang the wrong lyrics and overall he seemed quite out of breath too, but it’s obvious that whenever Megan will be there, everyone focuses on Megan and not him. Regardless of that I don’t think he needs Megan, because he’s the one who is getting all these opportunities to be seen and heard and not her. So yes, she has to insert herself into everything to get her 5 minutes of fame and Kells allows it, because her name gets him more attention and he can show everyone that he’s dating her for his own ego.

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puttingfingerstokeys · 4 years

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a reason to settle

came to me in a dream ft Rick Grimes and Daryl Dixon post-apocalyptic horror (technically I mean there’re no zambles in this but hey that’s p much like the show anymore) Rickyl

Rick props himself up on an elbow in the early dawn light. The curtains are open and the rosy fingers of morning are reaching across the room to caress the end of his bed. He breathes deeply, willing away the grogginess, intent on surveying the damage, so to speak. To his surprise, the other side of the bed is not empty as he had assumed it would be. Dropping off the night before and falling deep into a restful oblivion had nevertheless brought thoughts of doubt and trepidation regarding the evening and the inevitable rise of the sun. He is pleasantly surprised to see that he’d been wrong. Daryl is sitting up, his back facing Rick, the sheet pooled about his waste. Bare, broad shoulders begin the frame of a patchwork canvas of tattoos and scars. Of course he has scars, Rick considers. No one out here doesn’t.

When will he stop thinking of everywhere they go as “out here”? He cannot see the light at the end of that tunnel. No matter how many walls surround them or how thick those walls might be, it all seems like “out here”, as if they are in the wilderness, defenseless against the unmitigated disaster brought by hordes of the undead. But they are not out anywhere. Alexandria’s walls are tall and strong. The walls of his house are tall and strong. It could be our house, Rick muses, if he’d just hold still for one dang minute. But Daryl is not the kind of man who settles down.

“Ain’t had no reason to,” Daryl explained, standing just inside the doorway of Rick’s home in Alexandria. Presumably, Michonne and Carl were upstairs, sound asleep as Rick and Daryl had returned long after sunset. Rick’s eyes lingered on Daryl, watching his body language, gauging whether he should press for more information. It seemed forward of him to have even brought the subject up, despite having been friends for half a decade and change. This—Daryl’s past—was a subject Rick had usually made it a point to avoid. It clearly made the man uncomfortable and Rick was in no position to offer solutions. It wasn’t that he did not care, so much as he had no idea how best to offer his… what? His support? Would that even be appreciated?

“Everyone’s got a reason to settle down, Daryl,” Rick responded gently, hanging his gun belt up on the coat hanger near the door, then pausing and thinking better of it, slinging it over his shoulder. Daryl noticed this, of course; the hunter’s eyes were keen, sharp and they missed little. This was something for which their friends were usually grateful. Just then, however, Rick would have given just about anything to escape the man’s scrutiny.

“Why? You ain’t.” His voice was barely above a whisper, out of courtesy to the other denizens of the house and because that was his normal speaking volume. Rick hadn’t heard Daryl get much louder on too many occasions past their first meeting. He was, it seemed, the living embodiment of an old Teddy Roosevelt quote: Speak softly and carry a big stick. Daryl was not a nervous animal, not like he used to be, but he still very much took his cues from Rick Grimes, a fact which Rick knew well, though he sometimes forgot.

“I’m… just not ready,” Rick explained, “but I wanna be. It’s… it takes time. You gotta want it, though.”

Daryl remained silent, standing in the half-open doorway, one hand upon the knob. He seemed at a loss, at the moment, but also deep in thought. Daryl Dixon was a man of contradictions. On the one hand, he was one of the bravest people Rick had ever met, with a massive, soft heart and a deep love for people—certain people, anyway. On the other hand, Daryl was cold, ornery, taciturn, and even somewhat unpleasant with his long bouts of silence and straightforward bluntness that might have been off putting to someone who did not know him better.

“C’mon in,” Rick beckoned, gesturing, “y’r lettin’ the night in.”

They were both keyed up, he knew, and it would be a relief to simply sit, maybe in silence, maybe not, unpacking the day and decompressing before he headed to bed and Daryl disappeared wherever he went every night. Rick had tried to find out, of course, but when Daryl Dixon did not want to be found, he was a phantom. There was something to that, of course, but as always, Rick was never sure just how much of Daryl’s past he should know. A man who was good at hiding usually had something from which to hide, but what might have pursued a younger, likely wilder Daryl was anyone’s guess. Rick suspected Merle had something to do with it, when the two were evidently running together—but Daryl alone? He was gruff, rough around the edges, but fundamentally kind, a good man. This did not happen overnight.

To Rick’s surprise, Daryl closed the door behind him and entered, leaning his crossbow against the wall just behind the coat rack where Rick had not hung his python. Daryl made it a point to meet Rick’s eyes as he did this, as if to say “you’re accusing ME of not being trusting”. Rick knew damn well Daryl was still armed, however, so he met the gaze without sheepish guilt.

Rick settled himself on the couch, sighed, and stretched his legs out. It felt good to mimic civilization, even if that was all they were doing. Daryl perched at the other end, seemingly uncomfortable with the softness of it, shifting a little, and then sliding forward so his elbows were propped on his knees. “This… y’think it’ll last?”

That Daryl had broken the silence surprised Rick and for a moment, he was at a complete loss for words. “Huh?” An inadequate grunt was Rick’s only response, initially. He wondered for a moment if turnabout was fair play on something like this, where the noncommittal grunt was usually Daryl’s territory. “Oh, you mean Alexandria?”

“Nah,” said Daryl, shifting to tilt his body toward Rick, signaling that he was ready to converse properly. “I mean people remakin’ their lives, tryn’ ta reach back into what we had an’… rebuild it.”

Rick considered these words. He wasn’t certain civilization, as it had been, could ever return. “Not sure it should go back to how it was,” he said after a moment, studying his rough hands. They clamped into fists and he breathed deeply, nodding. “But maybe we could build somethin’ new.”

Rick reaches out with those same rough hands and presses the pads of his fingers to Daryl’s back. He does not trace scars or tattoos. He simply touches, as if transferring his warmth to the man, transmitting his desire for them to simply be, to stay this way, if not forever, then just for now—he hopes his gratefulness that Daryl is still her is conveyed properly through that touch. Daryl does not pull away, does not even flinch. Rick may not realize it, but this is a colossal step forward for someone like Daryl, who is unaccustomed to being approached from behind in any way. Daryl sighs as gooseflesh rises on his skin, radiating outward from where Rick’s fingers have found gentle contact. Rick shifts and presses his palm to the area.

“You… gunna settle down here a minute?” Rick risks breaking the pregnant stillness. He lays his head back on the pillow, keeping the one hand upon Daryl’s back. The words earn him a grunt and Daryl’s attention, one eye gleaming over his shoulder as he decides how to respond. On the one hand, Daryl knows Rick is pressing him because he is concerned for the man’s restless nature to be both appeased and abated. On the other hand, he also understands that his friend is very much yanking his chain.

“Nah,” comes the response as Daryl turns back to face away from Rick. He is watching the rising of the sun through Rick’s east-facing windows, studying the color of the sky through the glass. The light has not quite reached him yet, still hovering at the edge of the bed, hesitant as Rick’s hand had been.

“You said last night that you never had a reason,” Rick continues. “Dontcha have one now?”

Rick shifts again, this time sitting up. He spares a glance at the room, at their discarded clothing, at the disarray of sheets, at the carefully-placed pistols on either side of the bed, one for each stand—a python and some small revolver—ready and within easy reach. Maybe neither of them are ready to settle down, but Rick wants it. He wants Daryl to want it, too. Rick moves across the sheets, heedless of their positioning or lack of it as he removes the hand that had been on Daryl’s back to replace it with his arms, wrapping himself around those broad, powerful shoulders, relishing the warmth and contact. With thighs spread on either side of Daryl’s hips, chest pressed to the man’s back, mouth and nose buried in soft, baby fine hair, Rick breathes deeply once more, squeezing tight, as if afraid to lose the moment and the man along with it.

“Guess… maybe I do…”

#CC #CW #twd #the walking dead #rickyl

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profound-boning · 7 years

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Something Special

@thecuriouscrusader’s 1k challenge prompt: “I was just scared that you were gunna realise you’re way better than me.” pairings: destiel word count: 2.5k tags: no warnings apply, canonverse, sam’s pov, dean/cas post break up, poor sam, happy ending only on tumblr

The phone rings a couple of times before Sam picks up.

“Hi, Dean,” he says, resigned.

“Hey, Sammy.” Dean’s voice is that weird, forced chipper that Sam hates, but that’s the only way Dean’s voice sounds lately. “You doing anything?”

“Just cutting up some vegetables for dinner.” He pauses. “What about you?”

“Oh, you know,” Dean says. “Same old.”

“Right.” He pauses again, waiting for Dean to elaborate. The other end of the phone is silent for a little while. “Dean…”

“It’s just not the same, okay? I don’t—I don’t really know how to cook for one anymore. Can I just come over—?”

“Dean, you know that I love having you here.” Sam sighs. “But you can’t hide at my place forever. Why won’t you talk to him?”

“Ain’t nothin’ to talk about, Sam.” Sam can hear the frown Dean must be sending him. “I told you that. We’re—it’s over.”

“Okay.” Sam draws out the vowels so Dean can really hear how disbelieving he is. “Well going forward, can you at least start coordinating your calls or something so you don’t try to call me in the middle of his again.”

“His—? What? Is Cas calling you, too?”

“Bye, Dean.”

“But what—?” Sam hangs up on his brother before he has to hear another word. He honestly never thought it would end up like this. Sure, he’d had to deal with a lot of sappy lovey-dovey stuff from those two. When they were all still living in the bunker, he’d even gotten an eyeful a couple of times and had to have a stern talk with both of them (separately) about common courtesy.

Sam getting his own apartment in the city had been an amenable solution for everyone. He’s still at the Bunker more often than not; they still collaborate on bigger cases and take road trips when they have to attend to something in person. Partial retirement suits them: Sam is working in construction and helping other hunters with lore, Dean is part-time at a mechanic’s garage and also managing an online forum about classic cars, and Cas can be found manning the desk at the library. They’ve got a pretty good life now.

Or they did up until Dean and Cas (and Sam is sure somehow that both of them managed to screw this up with a general plethora of stubbornness and not enough communication or patience) ended their relationship.

Sam had woken up late one night to the sound of knocking on his door. It had turned out to be a very sad-looking Cas, asking if he could please stay the night. He’d had a large suitcase with him though, which told Sam that Cas was anticipating being away for more than just one night.

But Cas is his friend—was practically his brother-in-law—so he’d had no qualms about letting the guy sleep on his couch. The following afternoon, he’d helped Cas locate a weekly motel near the library and he didn’t press for details.

He’d gotten little more from Dean, who called him while very drunk right after Sam had seen Cas safely to his new accommodations. But Dean was mostly just angry with Sam for ‘siding with Cas’ instead of him.

“You know that isn’t true,” Sam had said. “He asked for my help and I gave it. He’s my friend, too, Dean.”

“Shit, I know that.” Dean hiccups. “Fuck, I really—I really fucked this up.” He’d hung up quickly after that, but not before Sam heard a sob. Sam dropped by the Bunker in the morning with some Aleve, expecting to have to peel Dean off of the kitchen floor. Instead, he’d found his brother curled up in bed, clutching a pillow so tightly that it had made Sam’s chest ache to see it. He’d left the painkiller and a bottle of water at Dean’s bedside anyway and went to wait for him in the kitchen. Once Dean lumbered in, he made a pot of coffee and sat with his brother for a while. Didn’t get much out of him, just silent brooding and a muttered, “it’s over.” The puffy eyes said Dean was more affected than his words let on.

That was two weeks ago now, and Sam is at the end of his rope. He fields phone calls from both of them every day, has to make sure Cas is eating enough, and that Dean is getting enough sleep. It’s exhausting and it’s frustrating because he just wants them to be a happy family again. He was fine with being the third wheel when it was apparent how happy they were together.

So Sam plots. Neither one of them will talk about what happened; Dean gets teary-eyed at the mention of Cas’s name and Cas gets this look like he’s about to break something. Maybe if he can get them to meet up in a neutral location? They’re both wary of the Bunker and Sam’s place of course, and there’s no way he could trick one of them into going to the other’s place of work.

In the end, he is saved from having to come up with the perfect scheme by a nasty cold.

First of all, Dean insists that Sam come back to the Bunker in order to recover. What Sam had not anticipated was that Cas would agree with Dean on this, and so he was almost immediately ferried over by Cas while Dean was working. Cas helped arrange some things in Sam’s old bedroom and then told him to rest. From there, both Dean and Cas take it upon themselves to fret over him; taking turns with bringing cold medicine, hot soups, and other ‘necessities’—which is even more ridiculous given that newly human Castiel has never been around someone with the common cold. However, his gifts (suggested by the Internet) are much appreciated as warm socks are always useful at the Bunker.

One day, they accidentally arrive within minutes of each other. Sam can hear their startled yelps from his bed, where he is nestled under several pillows and blankets. They seem to accept that neither one is going to leave, however, and fast-walk to Sam’s room to deliver their gifts. When they push open the door they practically stumble in their haste to push past the other and reach Sam’s bedside.

“Here, Sammy, brought you mom’s tomato rice soup,” Dean says cheerfully.

“Sam, I noticed that you ran out of ginger ale yesterday, and I decided that getting more would be most beneficial for you,” Cas intones.

“Oh for God’s sake,” Sam mutters under his breath. These two will be the death of him.

Dean’s forced smile doesn’t falter. “It’ll be fine Sammy, just a little cold is all. Is, uh—is there anything else you need? I can head out—”

“That’s not necessary, Dean.” Cas puts the case of ginger ale cans on the floor by the bedside table where Dean’s soup is resting. “You stay here with your brother, I’ll—”

“Well, no, I mean… Cas, you don’t have to—”

“I insist, Dean, it’s—”

“Will you two shut up already?” Sam glares as best he can while his head is spinning. “I want you both here but not bothering me while I’m trying to sleep.”

They pause.

“I could go see what’s in the kitchen?” Cas wonders. “Or straighten up a bit?”

“That’d be great, Cas. We can take turns.” Dean smiles warmly at Cas and for the briefest moment, Sam feels like things are back to normal. Then the skin around Dean’s eyes tightens and he drops his gaze, staring at the blanket covering Sam’s shoulder. “I’ll see—see you in a bit, then.”

Cas had been smiling right back at Dean but, noticing the shift, drops into a frown, too. But he agrees and slips out of the room quietly. Sam lets his head drop onto the pillow.

“Honestly, Dean, you’re—”

“Shut up, Sam.”

Too tired to argue, Sam pulls the blankets tighter around himself and dozes off. He stirs once when he hears his bedroom door open. He wakes up a bit later; Cas is sitting in the armchair nearby with a book open in his lap, but his eyes are clearly not focused on it. Sam clears his throat.

“Hey, Cas.”

“Oh. Hello, Sam” Cas closes the book. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Not particularly.” He eyes the table and notes that Dean’s soup has gone. “Soup’s in the kitchen?” Cas nods. “And my ginger ale?”

“Ah, no, there’s one here.” Cas rises and takes a few steps in order to grab a can from the case on the floor. Sam appreciates the gesture.

“Thanks, Cas.” Sitting up, he takes a careful sip. “Dean’s still around?”

“Yes,” Cas replies. “Cleaning, I think.”

They’re quiet for a moment and Sam observes his friend. Cas is sitting again, his shoulders hunched, and his whole demeanor droopy. His hair doesn’t look as soft and shiny, he has bags under his eyes, and his skin is kind of pale like he’s not really getting enough sleep or drinking enough water.

“How are you feeling, Cas?”

Cas looks up at him, and Sam tries to convey with a look that he doesn’t want to hear anything about ‘I’m fine’ or that nothing is wrong. Cas seems to get the message, and he sighs. “I’ve been better. This… It’s been difficult to adjust.”

“Adjust to what?” Sam prods.

Cas closes his eyes, a pained expression crossing his features. “To a new life. A new identity, even. I’ve… Being part of your family was my identity. And now…” He trails off.

“Cas,” Sam starts gently. “First, you are still my brother. No matter what.” Cas opens his eyes and meets Sam’s stare. “I care about you a lot. Pretty much like how I care for Dean, to a certain extent. That’s why I can see how much this is hurting you two.”

“Sam—”

“No, I know that it is. I don’t know what happened since neither one of you will tell me. But I know that it sucks and that Dean is hurting just as much as you are.” Sam takes another sip of ginger ale. “Maybe talking to him about it could help.”

“There is… nothing to discuss,” Cas says. He’s so sad and Sam wishes he could strangle them both. “Dean has made that very clear.”

“Talk to him,” Sam insists. “He’s hiding it from you but he can’t hide it from me. At the very least you both could get some closure.”

Cas looks thoughtful but he doesn’t respond, and Sam doesn’t either. He lies back a bit on his pillows and is quickly asleep again. The next moment that he’s conscious, he’s curled up on his side, facing the wall instead of the rest of the room. But he can hear both Cas’s and Dean’s low voices coming from that side; he doesn’t dare change his breathing, praying that they’re actually going to talk to each other instead of driving him crazy.

“You said this wasn’t what you were expecting. That it wasn’t what you wanted.” Cas audibly swallows. “That I’m not what you wanted.” If that’s truly what Cas was led to believe, Sam is going to smack Dean.

“What?” Dean nearly cries out but he seems to stifle himself at the last minute. “Cas, no. No, that’s—that’s the opposite of what—. I didn’t mean you, Cas, damn it.”

“Then what were you trying to say, Dean, there’s only so many ways to interpret—”

“I’m not what you want, Cas.” Oh boy. There it is. “You may not see it now but you will and I—. It’s killing me to sit here just waiting for it to happen.”

Sam knew that Dean has some lingering self-esteem and abandonment issues but this is far more serious than he’d feared.

Cas sounds livid but he’s still trying to keep his voice down. “Is that a joke? Since when do you get to tell me what I feel? What I want?”

“Cas—”

“No, you listen. Everything that we have been through together and I was just biding my time waiting for a chance to leave you? That’s ridiculous. That’s so stupid and you—you broke up with me because you thought I was going to break up with you? What kind of logic is that?”

When this is over, Sam is going to give Cas the biggest hug.

“I was just scared that you were gonna realize you’re way better than me.” If Sam could see Dean’s face, he’s sure his brother looks like a hurt puppy, and Cas probably looks like he’s going to start throwing punches. That or the kind of soft, concerned look he gets when he fusses over Dean. Turns out these two have been pining for the other all this time because of a simple miscommunication. Have been making Sam miserable over nothing.

“There is not a single way in which I am better than you, Dean. And you’re not competing for my affections and I’m not settling for you.” Sam can picture Cas making air quotes with his fingers. “We’re in this together.” There’s a beat of silence and Sam thinks he can hear Cas shift in his seat. “I mean, we were. When we were… together.”

“Yeah,” Dean agrees sadly. They’re silent once more.

The silence continues.

When are they going to make up? Sam waits.

It’s still silent.

Is—? Seriously?

“Oh my God, are you two for real?” Sam wasn’t going to say anything but holy shit if they can’t figure it out after that little revelation he’s going to go out and find a wraith or something to kill him on purpose. Put him out of his misery. He wraps himself up with as much dignity as possible since he’s smothered in several layers of blankets and kind of stinky from sweating out his fever. But he still musters up a good glare and points at his brother and his best friend. “You two are going to go to Dean’s old room and talk about how you’re still madly in love with each other, then you’re going to kiss and make up, and then we can all move past this bullshit.”

Dean and Cas look first at him and then at each other, eyes wide. When they make eye contact, they both blush and look away. It’s like dealing with teenagers.

“I’m serious,” Sam threatens. “I’m not fielding one more phone call from either of you about this.”

“You… would you want to be together again?” Cas peers over at Dean. Dean stares back at him, mouth agape.

“Of course I want that. Why would you ever think—?” The rest of Dean’s sentence is swallowed by Cas launching himself out of the armchair, planting a kiss on Dean’s mouth and cradling his cheeks. Sam has a brief moment of finally before Dean starts responding enthusiastically.

“Guys,” Sam barks. “Dean’s old room. Go. And don’t wake me up again until dinner.”

“Okay, Sam.” Dean is a little too distracted to actually look at Sam, he’s too busy beaming at Cas, who is blushing bright red. “We’ll be—”

“Would you just get out of here already?”

They stumble out the door, hand-in-hand.

Sam sighs and gets comfortable again. He definitely is the long-suffering younger brother and really deserves some special recognition for his contributions, but at least he gets to see Dean and Cas this happy. And after everything they’ve been through, that is truly something special.

95 notes · View notes