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pickledpascal · 22 days

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Bewitched

Chapter Eight: Take Me Home

Warnings: sexual situations, nudity, swearing, fluff

Word Count: 1.5k

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For the longest time, Beau didn’t think he’d ever have a proper home again. He was content just living in his Airstream in the middle of nowhere depending on where his job took him. Preferably far away from Houston.

But, while trying to escape some demons, he found someone he wasn’t expecting to find. Someone to love him. For the second time. And hopefully, the last. Not to mention, she already had a family too. He was just glad they didn’t mind having him join that family.

After some deliberation, Beau wanted to make himself permanently a part of Kiera’s family. And she agreed.

“Is that the last box?” She asked as Beau entered her—their—room. She was in the middle of unpacking his clothes in some of the emptier spots of her dresser, folding them accordingly. However, she wasn’t exactly sure where to hang all the man's cowboy hats. All the hooks she had for those were taken up by her various hats. Maybe she should get more.

Beau set the box on the dresser next to the other one and nodded at her. “All my clothes, signed, sealed, and delivered. I’m yours.” He winked, squeezing Kiera’s good shoulder for a moment as he leaned over to kiss her cheek.

It’s been a few weeks since The Incident so Beau has been wanting her to take it easy on that arm. He is especially careful with touching that arm as well and, occasionally, would stop sexual situations if he felt it would strain Kiera too much. She immediately denied that it would but that didn’t mean Beau would stop worrying.

Kiera glanced at Beau, unimpressed with his word choice. “Is that all you want out of the trailer?” She asked, stuffing more clothes into other drawers.

“I don’t need anything else,” He shrugged, “Plus, I could just go out back and get something if I forgot it.”

As Kiera finished unpacking Beau’s things, with a little help from him near the end, she pushed the last drawer closed. Beau kissed her softly, smiling against her lips. He was so genuinely happy and had been ever since Kiera became a part of his life.

“I love you,” Beau whispered as they pulled away.

Kiera looked at him, amusement in her eyes. “I know.” She straightened her back a little better, bones audibly cracking as she did. “Is the Airstream where it should be?” She cocked an eyebrow.

Beau playfully rolled his eyes and nodded, “Yes, ma’am. Behind the house ‘where it should be,’ like you said.” He wrapped his arms around Kiera’s waist to bring her closer again.

There was something about how she was so close to his height that he really loved, maybe it was how much easier it was to kiss her or… reach certain places. He didn’t have to bend his neck nearly at all just to kiss his partner like he had to so many times in the past.

“I’m gonna shower.” She sighed as she pulled away, motioning to her damp clothes. “It’s fucking hot and the AC ain’t working.” She grumbled as she grabbed some clothes and closed the door to the bathroom behind her.

Beau pursed his lips. She was right, it was hot. Summer was in full effect and he didn’t expect Montana to be quite as sweltering as it was. Houston could get pretty hot so he was used to the heat, just surprised. Even he was stripped down to just a t-shirt and some jeans compared to the usual flannel he would wear over it.

He looked around the room for a moment, taking it in better than the last time he was there. He realized the walls were actually covered in wallpaper, most of it was matte black while there were glossy black leaves and branches on top. The velvet drapes were more blue than he originally thought. He rubbed the material between his index finger and thumb—those had to be expensive.

After a few moments of looking around the room, Beau heard music muffled play behind the bathroom door just as the shower turned on. Oh, so she was one of those people. It made him smile.

He knocked on the door as cogs in his mind started to turn. “Hello?” Kiera asked from behind it. “Do you need to piss? I’m not in the shower yet so you still can!”

“No, uh,” Beau coughed, a flush filling his cheeks as he properly realized what he wanted. “Can I join you?” His voice was quiet so he wasn’t sure if Kiera could hear him but he didn’t want to repeat himself.

Kiera cracked open the door, a towel wrapped around her body. “You sure?” She asked with a soft smirk.

It might've been the first time Beau had ever seen her without her piercings in. It's not like expected her to keep them all in when she showered but it was… different to say the least.

“Yeah.” He gulped. “I mean, I'm sure I'm sweaty too and,” He laughed nervously, “We wouldn't want to waste water, now, huh?”

Kiera stared at Beau for a few seconds and nodded, opening the door to let him inside. “Take your time, I'll be in the shower.” She said.

Beau nodded and looked at the sink, intentionally trying not to stare as Kiera dropped her towel and stepped into the shower. He was distracting himself as he looked at the different products—and realized how many he didn’t have—on the side of the sink until he took off his clothes. Kiera's seemed to be in a designated corner so Beau put his in the opposite corner.

The steamy air of the bathroom felt good on Beau's skin. He ran a hand through his hair, filing through all the times he and Kiera had been intimate together. This seemed to be on a new level, though he didn't expect sex at all.

He opened the glass door and stepped into the shower next to Kiera. Thankfully, the main shower head was on the ceiling so they could share the water relatively easily.

“Hey, cowboy.” Kiera smiled softly, her wet hair pulled away from her face.

Beau smiled back, still a little nervous. “Hey, honey.” He stepped closer, cupping her jaw.

She smirked at Beau's shyness. She knew it was different when they actually had sex. This was intimate but not the same kind. She pressed a kiss to his palm as water droplets rolled down her chin.

“Mind putting shampoo in my hair?” Kiera asked softly, biting the inside of her cheek.

She cherished her hair, like most Natives do, and didn't let anyone outside her family or very close friends touch it. Especially when it comes to taking care of it. So this was a large gesture of trust. One that Beau didn't realize was one.

Beau shook his head and looked through the different products on the shelf. There were a lot, not too many, but a lot. All seemed to be made with natural ingredients. One thing he learned about living with women for years is that a lot of the products they used were so much better than men's products.

He grabbed a shampoo that smelled Heavenly. And he remembered smelling it on Kiera's hair recently. He liked it then too.

Kiera turned to let Beau massage the shampoo into her scalp. He liked taking care of her like this. It was nice to get a few pleased moans from her too. He then washed it out of her hair and kissed her mildly soapy cheek. She smiled at him, reciprocating the gesture.

After the shower, the couple seemed incredibly refreshed. Kiera had put on simple clothes for once, it seemed—a black T-shirt, shorts, and socks. Not that Beau believed she had any clothes besides black but this was certainly a change.

“I was thinking we could have some stew for dinner.” Kiera said as she sat next to Beau on the back porch, crossing her legs. “Deer this time.”

Beau was looking at the Airstream in the yard, appreciating how at home it looked there. He glanced over at her and nodded. “I mean, as long as you're the one making it, I'll eat whatever.” He smiled.

“Yeah, I'm sure you would.” Kiera chuckled softly and kissed his temple. “Dalia will be home soon.” She murmured as she left his side to get into the kitchen.

Beau nodded before he started thinking about everything in his life that brought him up to this point. God, life was horrible a year or two ago. Not so much anymore.

He had someone who loved him, and now two daughters. Well… a biological daughter and soon-to-be step-daughter. Which he hoped Dalia didn't know about yet, she had a way of knowing things. It's what they were going to talk to her about during dinner.

Plus, it's not like Beau didn't already see Dalia as a daughter months beforehand—one of the many reasons Kiera liked the idea of Beau officially adopting her.

-----

tags: @deans-spinster-witch

#oc #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x oc #transgender #queer #beau arlen #beau arlen x oc #big sky #big sky fanfiction #big sky s3 #big tittied goth girl x bisexual cowboy #oc: kiera styx #bewitched #goth #goth aesthetic

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pickledpascal · 24 days

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she is now complete !!!

Meat & Candy

Chef!Dean Winchester x Journalist!Castiel Novak

Jensen Ackles Masterlist

Taglist open here !!!

Fic on AO3

Summary: Chef Dean Winchester is opening is brand new restaurant, Crossroads. However, before they open, he has been convinced by his Sous-Chef, Benny Laffite, and brother, Sam Winchester, to do an interview for the Chicago Tribune's food column.

The journalist for the food column just so happens to be Castiel Novak.

A/N: my first full length destiel fic.... this is so fun i love stealing movies and putting my favorite characters into them. this VERY loosely based off chef (that's it, that's the title of the movie) and some other chef type movies ive seen. this concept has been in my head for a while so, y'know, thought I'd share it with the world finally.

General Warnings: dean is still a very sad man (😞), swearing, implied/also explicit mentions of abuse and child neglect, food as a metaphor for love, romance, trans male character (dean), dealing with single parenthood, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of chicago specific things.

ONE. TWO. THERE. FOUR. FIVE. SIX.

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pickledpascal · 24 days

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Meat & Candy

Chapter Six

Warnings: general anxiousness, 18+ themes, fluff.

Word Count: 1.5k

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Dean had to take a deep breath at least five times in the last few minutes and decided to do his breathing exercises. Was he really that nervous to be going on a date? Well, yeah. It didn’t even have to be a date with Cas, it could’ve been with anyone . He hadn’t been on a “regular” date in years. He and Benny would have their benders and other… things . He wasn’t even sure if he had been on a “regular” date before. Cassie might’ve been the closest when they had dinners nearly every Friday together.

Shit, Cassie. Was he making a mistake by inviting Castiel there? Well, it wasn’t her house but it was the closest thing to it. Dean took another breath as he stepped inside the bakery. It smelled amazing in there, always did. Then again, he and Cassie weren’t as close as they used to be. They were still friends, but far from intimate and they didn’t spend that much time together anymore.

“Hey, Cassie!” Dean smiled as he waved at her, his worries melted away. “How’s sales going?”

Cassie was behind the glass counter, an apron around her waist. “Just fine, Dean.” She smiled back with a cocked eyebrow. “How’s the restaurant?”

Dean leaned against the counter, glancing at the other patrons enjoying their pastries and various types of coffee. They all seemed content. Similar to how all his customers left. “Doing well.” He said softly.

“Looks like both our dreams came true.” Cassie pointed out, getting his attention again. “Now, I'm assuming you didn't come here just to chat to little ole me so… what can I get ya?”

Dean looked at all the different baked goods as if he was looking to try something new even though he'd get the same thing as always. “One maple bacon donut,” He glanced up at the drink menu, “And a medium latte with sweet cream, please.”

Cassie pressed a few buttons at the register and flipped the tablet for Dean. “That'll be $10.67.”

He paid and added a five-dollar tip with a wink. He always made sure any place he went to for any service got a healthy tip, especially if they were a smaller business.

Dean waited by the counter, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jacket. Summer was starting soon but it wasn't too hot to wear a jacket anymore. He glanced at the clock on the wall every so often. It was getting so close to when they were supposed to be meeting but Cas wasn't there yet. He didn't know why, but his heart started racing again. God, he thought he was over that already.

Cassie had his order out in just a few minutes and gave him a sly smile. “Got a date?” She asked.

“How'd you know?” Dean squeaked as if he wasn't shifting every two seconds. He grabbed his coffee and donut, immediately taking a bite of it followed by a large gulp from his coffee.

Cassie gave him a look, cocking an eyebrow in disbelief. Dean could be really oblivious at times.

Dean gulped down everything and nodded at her, a nervous smile fluctuating on his lips. “Right, yeah.” He flicked a couple crumbs off his shirt.

He bee-lined for a table by the windows so he could see Castiel as he came in. Just to be prepared. Or something. However, Cas must’ve come from the other direction because Dean didn’t see him until he stepped through the door. Dean’s heart stopped as Cas waved before going to the register to buy whatever sweets or coffee he wanted.

Dean coughed and lifted a hand to his mouth to smell his breath. Okay, it was fine. He then scratched at his beard to smooth it and make sure it was styled how he liked. Nearly as soon as that was finished, Castiel sat across from him.

“Hello, Dean.” He smiled softly and glanced down at the goods he got, taking a sip from his coffee. “I wasn’t sure which donuts to get… so I got an array I thought Claire and I would like.” He said softly, a light blush on his cheeks.

It was good to know Dean wasn’t the only nervous one. It made him feel better, a bit of weight off his shoulders.

“That’s okay,” Dean smiled, amused. “But I have to warn you,” He motioned to the five donuts in front of him. “These go bad after a day or two. I mean, they’re still edible, just not as good.” He took a bite of his own donut and then wiped his lips.

Castiel’s eyes caught the movement before he cut one donut—Boston creme—in half. “So how do you know the owner?” He asked as he took a bite.

Dean pursed his lips and looked away for a moment. “Me and Cassie, we used to date a while ago. But we're just friends.” He was quick to add that last part.

“Oh! Really? Why did you date?” Castiel didn't seem phased much, perhaps even a little excited to learn more about Dean's past.

Dean rubbed his nose a little. It's not that he didn't want to talk about it, he was just surprised at how well Castiel seemed to take the information. He sipped his coffee. “Um, we went to the same high school. And we're both trans so… just kinda clicked because of that. I think we were the only openly trans kids at the time.”

Castiel hummed in response. “It must've been… nerve-wracking. I'm glad you had someone to relate to.” He smiled gently.

“Yeah…” Dean smiled a little to himself at the memories, glancing at Cassie.

For a while, she was everything to him and more, but the sparkles faded and he realized that maybe he didn't want to be with her forever . At least, not as a lifelong romantic partner. Dean had been thinking about maybe providing some of Cassie's baked goods at his restaurant for pickup or something but he had Charlie for that.

“How'd you end up working for the Tribune?” Dean asked, trying to learn more about Cas. All he really knew was that he was a journalist, also a single father, and he absolutely loved his cooking.

Castiel shrugged. “I just went to college at the University of Illinois for Journalism and thought getting a job at the Tribune would be a logical thing to do.” He let out a soft laugh, glancing down at the table. “I'm sorry, my life is not as interesting as yours.”

“It's okay, don't worry! Honestly, it's nice to be around someone whose life is not as…” Dean struggled to find the right words for a few moments. “Not as crazy.”

“Good… that's good.” Castiel nodded.

The rest of that morning was spent talking about their children, the donuts they both had, and a few memories of their brothers. It seemed they bonded in more ways than one.

Food lovers? Check.

Single dads? Check.

Weird brothers? Check.

Although Gabriel was technically the older brother, he seemed to act incredibly childish at times. Dean had to agree after knowing him for a while.

They left the cafe together as Dean stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Um, when do you, uh, wanna do this again?”

“Soon… very soon,” Castiel said, gripping his paper bag that held the donuts. “Perhaps next week?” He suggested. “I don't cook too well, but you can come to my house.”

Dean nodded, a soft smile on his face. Contentedness. “That sounds good.”

They awkwardly stood by each other on the sidewalk for a bit.

“Can I—” Dean was cut off.

Castiel had kissed him, lifting his free hand to cup Dean's face. It was soft but surprised Dean nonetheless. He wanted to be a gentleman about it, but Castiel couldn't wait.

“Yes.” Castiel whispered as he pulled away.

A larger smile broke out on Dean's lips before he wrapped his arms around Castiel's waist and kissed him deeper than before. The way their lips slotted together, the way their bodies slotted together just felt right. Like maybe, just maybe, Dean had found his person. And he wasn't about to let Cas go without giving him something memorable.

A goodbye kiss. One that wasn't really a goodbye, more of a ‘I’ll-see-you-very-soon’ kiss.

“Hey, can y'all leave? I think you're scaring my customers!” Cassie joked from the door.

Dean glanced at Cassie. “Sure, just, uh,” he looked back at Castiel. “Talk to you later.” He pecked his lips quickly before leaving.

Castiel watched him walk to his car, a light feeling in his chest. He couldn't believe this was happening to him. Just because he was given an interview to do. Maybe he needed to thank Crowley. He quite liked wine, perhaps Cas could splurge on an expensive bottle with his raise.

“You're really in love with him, huh?” He heard Cassie's voice before he turned to face her.

He coughed, shrugging. “Well, uh, I don't— I couldn't say right now.” He knew that he was bullshitting himself.

Cassie chuckled. She could tell too. “You do. I can tell.” She soon went back inside the cafe.

#jensen ackles #supernatural #transgender #spn #queer #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester #trans men #transgender dean winchester #trans!dean x castiel #cassie robinson #castiel novak #castiel #dean x castiel #deancas #destiel #destiel fluff

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pickledpascal · 24 days

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Meat & Candy

Chapter Five

Warnings: mentions of death, swearing

Word Count: 2.3k

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Castiel let Dean know when his article was submitted and when it was supposed to come out. Dean was excited, a fluttery feeling in both his chest and stomach. Sure, Benny had told him any press would be good press but Dean believed this article would be positive if the amount of times Castiel wanted to come by was an indication.

The newspaper showed up on his doorstep on the exact day Cas told him it would. He snatched it out of his mailbox and threw it on his countertop before taking a sip of coffee. It was here. What was stopping him from picking it up and reading it? He ran a hand down his face before he set his mug down.

Success wasn’t something Dean accepted often. There was always another hurdle for him to get over. He never just let good things sink in. Afraid that, if he did, they would eventually slip away and leave him hurt.

Emma came down a few moments later while Dean stared down at the paper and popped a few leftover waffles in the toaster. “That what I think it is?” She asked with a sly smile.

“Yeah.” Dean sighed, taking another sip from his mug. He intentionally didn’t make eye contact with Emma. She knew about his feelings. He was too obvious that everyone in his life knew.

“You gonna read it?” The toaster popped the waffles back up so Emma began to munch on them. Dean made them with chocolate chips and liked to freeze any extras for her to have for a quick snack or breakfast when he didn’t feel like cooking.

“Yeah.” He glanced at the headline on the front. Not him or his Crossroads. Which was nice.

There was no noise for a while, besides the natural creaking of pipes and the soft sound of the AC running. Dean finally glanced up at Emma who he knew was staring at him. Having a daughter came with its pros and cons. Having her read him like a book was both a pro and a con. She took another bite of waffle and pursed her lips. She always looked adorable while she was in thought—her cheeks puffed and her eyebrows furrowed.

“Are you driving me to school today? It’s your day off.” She chose mercy.

Dean let out a breath. He was thankful. “Yeah. I will.” He mustered up a smile and nodded at her.

He finally read the article after he dropped Emma off at school and came back home. He locked himself in his room, just as an extra precaution. For what? Who the hell knows but he did it anyway for his peace of mind.

He sat at the edge of his bed and finally flipped the newspaper open, skipping down to where Castiel's article was. As expected, there was a picture of the outside perfectly framed to have the signage showing but he also saw a picture of himself, working on a dish with focused eyes taken from outside the kitchen. Or maybe it was inside? Cas was never that close during a service, Dean would've noticed.

His eyes finally noticed the small sentence next to that picture. “Photograph provided by Samuel W. Winchester.” He should've guessed it was Sam.

Then Dean began to read the article. Shit, man… He started tearing up. He covered his mouth with his hand and nearly broke down.

No one has ever complimented him so wholly and so endearingly in his life. Sam would say a “good job” every now and again, much like Bobby but not… not…

“Dean's hospitality is like coming home from war and finally, finally getting a nice warm-cooked meal for the first time in what felt like centuries. He is your mother, catering to your every need, and your father, encouraging others to do better, and your best friend, making sure you have a good time in his presence.”

Needless to say, the paper was stained with teardrops after he read the whole thing. He rubbed his eyes and shook his head a little.

He didn't expect this to be this emotional. All the shit he went through… and his life didn't suck anymore. He had a nice house with a beautiful daughter and a wonderful group of people he considered to be his family. And now he had quite the successful business.

This was proof of that.

A smile broke out on his face. If he told his twenty-year-old self everything he'd do, he probably wouldn't believe it.

First and foremost, Dean was a man . And had been living as one for so long that sometimes he forgot what it was like to not be one. Much like how Sam forgot Dean was even born a girl most of the time.

His phone started to ring.

“Dean!” Sam said excitedly. “Holy shit, man!”

“Yeah…” Dean's voice broke slightly, but he quickly covered it with a cough. “Yeah, it's so,” How could he accurately describe it? “Beautiful.” Yeah. That was right.

Sam's voice calmed. “Yeah, it is. Isn't it?” He rumbled softly. He was so happy for his brother. He was finally starting to live his life away from the demons that chased him everywhere. “Listen, me and the chefs were thinking about having a night out to celebrate such a good article. It's sure to bring a lot of people in and…” He took a breath, “It just wouldn't be the same without you there, being head chef and all that.”

Dean played with one of the rings on his fingers, letting out a breath. “Would be nice. Haven't had a drink since Christmas and it's past Easter.” He joked softly.

He could hear Sam's soft laugh. “Yeah. So, see ya there?”

“Yeah. See ya there.”

Dean left Emma at home, making sure to kiss her head and telling her not to invite over any friends without him knowing on his way out.

As usual, his brigade chose the Roadhouse for drinks. There was the usual young staff there, simply looking for college money who were usually always adopted by Ellen and Bobby. For good reason, most of the time. The Roadhouse was like home to Dean, even with its creaky wooden floors, old-fashioned jukebox, and worn-down signage used as wall decoration. It was a far cry from his own restaurant which was clean and sterile in some ways, but the charm of the Roadhouse… now, that was something he couldn't explain in just words.

“Why am I always the last one to get to places?” Dean went up to their usual table. Everyone was already there, including Jack who was nursing a seltzer compared to the beers the others had.

“Cause someone took their time trying to look good.” Benny pointed out with a light laugh.

Dean rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. He didn't dress too differently than usual—when he wasn't in the kitchen. He just decided to swap out the band tee for a crisp black button-up. It wasn't anything fancy.

“Thinking you'll get lucky tonight?” Charlie teased with a smile.

Jo shook her head. “As if he'd go for anyone besides Castiel right now.” Charlie nodded, realizing her mistake with a smirk.

Lee scooted over a little, patting the chair next to him. “I saved a spot for ya. But no beer.” He told Dean.

Dean let out a sigh and nodded at Lee. He went up to the bar top, greeted by a new face he hadn't seen before. “Aren't you a little too young to be working at a bar?” He asked, cocking his eyebrow at the young girl. She had to be about Emma's age, couldn't be older.

“Eh. I don't drink the alcohol here and I like the pay.” She smiled in a way that reminded him of Jo. He let out a soft laugh. He'd probably have to have a talk with Ellen and Bobby about hiring youngins like these. When he started working here, he was at least eighteen. “Anyway, whaddya want old man?”

“Whatever beer you got. I'm assuming it's Bud Light cause that's what it was the last time I worked here and Ellen doesn't like changin’ shit.” Dean chuckled as he leaned against the countertop.

“So you're old as shit. Got it.” She rolled her eyes as she grabbed a glass to fill it with beer and handed it to Dean.

Dean set a ten on the counter. “Keep the change. Can I get your name, kid?” He asked.

“Claire.” She responded after a while, probably to make sure he wasn't a weirdo.

Dean took a sip of his beer. It wasn't bad at all. Not that he had expensive taste in beer anyway. “Well, kiddo, cherish every moment you have here.” He smiled and lifted his glass in her direction.

Claire rolled her eyes. “You're weird.”

“Thanks, I try.” Dean laughed softly. This girl had spunk, that's for sure.

“Claire!” He could hear a familiar voice close by. Cas. “Are you ready to go?” Dean turned to him, glancing between him and Claire.

Oh.

He could see the resemblance. Claire was his daughter. Did that mean—? No, he didn't want to assume anything. As much as he wanted, Dean didn't know anything about Cas and his life. He only knew there was some mutual attraction. One that he wanted to act on. But could he be seeing things?

“Gimme a second.” Claire told Castiel, disappearing into the kitchen.

It took Cas a few seconds to recognize Dean was right next to him. “Oh, hello, Dean.” Of course he knew Dean worked here a few decades ago but he didn't know he would be here. “It's nice to see you.” He glanced behind him at the table Dean's friends were at. “Celebrating?” He asked with a soft smile.

“Something like that.” Dean said softly, glancing down at the golden liquid in his glass. He was suddenly very uninterested in drinking it. “That your kid?” He asked, just to make sure.

Castiel nodded with a shrug. “Kind of. I had a twin, Jimmy, who had her. She was very young when he and his wife died, she has been under my care ever since.”

Dean didn't expect that. He tilted his head at Cas and chuckled softly. Perhaps it was a better story than how he ended up with Emma, all things considered. At least Cas knew who the parents were. Dean didn't know Emma's other biological father. Just that he was likely very happy not knowing he had a child out there.

However, Emma was a wonderful child. Anyone would love to have her. Everyone loved her when they met her and they continued to love her when they got to know her better.

Dean was just having… a moment. He had a lot of those.

Castiel leaned up against the counter, setting his arms down to rest. Though, he looked the most out of place compared to everyone else at the bar. “Why do you seem so… unhappy? Did you not like the article?” He asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“No, no, it's not that.” Dean chuckled humorlessly. “You're just so… The way you wrote about me was so nice. I'm not used to that.” Something about Castiel made him want to tell him everything. Things he hadn't needed to tell anyone in years.

Castiel's face softened. “Good things do happen, Dean. Especially to people like you.”

“Not really. Not in my experience.” Dean admitted, drumming his fingers against his glass.

Castiel wanted to say more but Claire reappeared from the back with a jacket on and her backpack slung over her shoulder. He pursed his lips. “Goodbye, Dean. Enjoy your night off.” He smiled before he left with Claire.

“Night, Cas.” He waved, watching them leave with a lighter heart than when he walked in.

——

When Castiel came back home and retreated into his room for bed, his phone illuminated with a few text messages.

Dean: It was nice seeing you tonight.

Dean: I like you. A lot.

Dean: I don't know if you like guys but I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date soon. Just get back to me when you can, I know it's late.

Dean: I'm trans by the way.

Castiel set his phone down for a second, his heart beating faster. He hadn't been on a date in so long, no matter the person's gender.

But Dean… holy fuck, Dean. He was so beautiful and caring that it was so… disheartening that sometimes he didn't see that himself. Cas may not have known him long, but that much he could see. Some may think it was humility, but no. It was the feeling of undeserving. He was sure Dean deserved everything and more.

He pursed his lips and glanced back down at his phone, the only thing that was giving off light in his darkened room.

Castiel: That sounds wonderful. I am free tomorrow. Perhaps we could do something then?

Cas ran a hand through his hair and pulled at it slightly. It needed something else.

Castiel: I am pansexual, so your gender identity doesn't matter much to me. I am very much attracted to you either way.

He hoped that sounded alright. As a journalist, he felt like he sucked at writing anything that wasn't work-related. Texts were very much in that category. Gabriel told him all the time that he was very dry. But then again, Cas was like that a lot in real life so maybe it was accurate in that way.

Dean: Awesome!

Dean: We can go to Cassie's bakery. She'll give us donuts for a good discount since I know her.

Dean: That's if you like donuts.

Castiel let out a soft laugh. It was like he could see the panic on his face.

Castiel: That sounds lovely, Dean. I very much like donuts.

Dean: Even more awesome!

#jensen ackles #supernatural #transgender #spn #queer #dean winchester #trans dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #trans!dean x castiel #castiel novak #dean x castiel #castiel #destiel #claire novak #benny lafitte #sam winchester #lee web #deancas

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pickledpascal · 1 month

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Meat & Candy

Chapter Four

Warnings: swearing, teasing, slight kitchen tension, simping, mentions of abuse, mentions of smoking.

Word Count: 3.2k

Meat & Candy Masterlist

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Ever since being in Crossroads kitchen, Castiel had nearly worked himself to death trying to write the article about Chef Dean Winchester. It was all he ever thought about when he went to work, came home, slept, and woke up. Not even the article itself but what he said. His openness about everything. Castiel wanted to ask more about his daughter and what it was like to be a single parent. But that was selfish on his part.

He was in his room, sitting at his desk, working on his computer. He tried to type one sentence nearly a hundred times. It never sounded right to him.

His phone started to ring. It scared him, enough to knee the bottom of his desk. “Shit!” He cursed before he flipped his phone to see who decided to interrupt him.

Meg.

Castiel let out a breath and answered the call. “Hello?” He tried his best not to sound irritated. It didn't work.

“Wow, Clarence, what's got your panties in a bunch?” Meg’s smug voice came from the other line. Castiel loved her, he really did, but he had told her many times how much he hated how she managed to only call him while he was working. “And here I was gonna invite you and Claire out for lunch.”

Castiel didn't want to think about going out unless Dean was the one cooking the food. “Where?” His eyebrows furrowed.

“This new place, Crossroads.” Meg responded. “Heard of it?” She knew he had heard of it.

Castiel forgot it had opened a few days ago, he was a little too focused on trying to make the article perfect. He didn't want to disappoint Dean with something half-baked and didn't quite capture his beauty—well, the beauty of his cooking, yeah, that was what he meant.

“Shut up. When are we going?” He shut his laptop and played with the edge of his coat.

He wondered if Dean would be there today. Then he realized that was a dumb thing to wonder about, Dean had to be there every day they were open, he was the owner and head chef after all.

“Well, if you would look outside your conveniently placed window…” Meg’s voice trailed off.

Castiel blinked before he leaned back in his chair and rolled over to his window to move the curtain away. Sure enough, Meg was leaning against her car with her phone to her ear. Claire was already outside, next to her while she scrolled on her phone.

He cursed to himself, under his breath. He quickly hung up and maneuvered through the house to meet Meg and Claire outside.

The drive there was mostly silent besides the occasional conversation between Meg and Castiel—by conversation, it was mostly just Meg teasing Castiel about how he didn't talk to her as much as anymore. Claire added in her own comments when she felt like she wanted to.

Arriving at Crossroads was interesting for Castiel. The only times he's been there, it's been empty but now… God, it was bustling with activity. His eyes shined with pride for Dean.

“Alright, stop drooling.” Meg nudged Castiel out of his trance and walked through the door. Claire let out a small laugh as she followed.

Cas faltered before he followed them. Inside the restaurant while it was busy was a sight to see, the atmosphere completely shifted from when he was simply observing from the windows. The aromas in the air— all of them were enticing. And the dishes, he could catch a glimpse of them from a table nearby, they looked delectable.

“Castiel?” Sam's voice drew him back to reality.

“Yes, hello.” He quickly responded, forgetting that Sam was the stage… meaning he was usually the host.

Meg raised an eyebrow at Castiel. “Didn't know you were cozy with all the staff.”

Sam chuckled softly and shook his head a little. “No, no, I'm Dean's brother.” He explained softly. “I just happen to work here as well.”

“At least he's finding friends besides you.” Claire looked at Meg who feigned her hurt. The teenager just shrugged with a smug smile.

Before long, Meg turned back to Sam and gave him a light, forced smile that she usually wore when she had to talk to someone she didn't know well. Common courtesy and all that. “I have a reservation under Masters.”

Sam must've clicked a few buttons because it took a few seconds for him to say, “Right this way.” And guide them to their table. “A waiter will be with you shortly.” He added once everyone sat down.

They were seated near the right wall and Castiel had an almost perfect view inside the kitchen from his position. He could see Dean. Only when he passed in front of the window. His eyes were focused, speaking to another chef every few moments, or casting his gaze downward to—as far as Castiel could tell because the window into the kitchen only showed so much—properly garnish a plate to send it out into the dining area.

Compared to the last few times Castiel had seen him, Dean wore a simple clean and crisp white chef's jacket. Without the bandana, he could get a clearer look at the snake tattoo curled up on the side of his neck.

“Clarence? Clarence!” Meg snapped in front of his face before he took hold of her wrist from irritation. She pulled it away with a small laugh. “God, someone’s smitten.”

Claire let out a soft laugh as well, shaking her head. “Yeah, he doesn't normally hole himself in his room for weeks for just any article.” She teased.

Castiel frowned and glanced down at the napkin he began to fiddle with. The two closest women in his life were ganging up on him. Although, he supposed it was warranted. He was smitten. And he was a perfectionist when it came to this article in particular. He wanted to do right by Dean. It was an unexplainable feeling, he had only seen and talked to the man twice prior.

After a bit of small talk between Meg and Claire, mostly just about how she was doing in school, the waitress came by.

“Hello! My name's Jo, I'll be your server for tonight.” Jo was a bubbly blonde woman who seemed to be a little younger than Dean, however, still mature. Castiel could start to understand what Dean meant about only hiring friends. “Can I get you started with any drinks? We do have specialty cocktails, the head chef here is also quite the mixologist.” She winked to no one in particular.

Castiel blinked, how did Dean not tell him this? He shook his head. It didn't come up and he didn't think to ask. He flipped the pages of the menu to the back where the drinks were listed.

“I'll just take a water for now, thanks.” Meg gave Jo a light smile.

Claire pursed her lips. “Can I get a Dr. Pepper if you have it, please?” Some things never changed. Castiel smiled at her request.

Jo jotted those two drinks down on her notepad. “I could not imagine not having Dr. Pepper knowing Dean.” She said under her breath.

“Can I have a Corpse Reviver?” Castiel asked, feeling a little unsettled by the words coming out of his mouth.

Jo chuckled softly at the timid request. “Of course. I hope you like Aviation Gin.” She smiled. “I'll get back to you with those drinks.” She left the table.

Castiel glanced between Claire and Meg. “What's… Aviation Gin?”

Claire looked at her father weirdly. “God, you know nothing.” His eyebrows furrowed. “Ryan Reynolds! He makes Gin. Well, he doesn't make the Gin, but he owns the company and is the spokesperson for it.”

Castiel knew of Ryan Reynolds. But only because of Claire, he didn't watch movies much, but she had forced him to watch Deadpool one and two. He wasn't the biggest fan but he could tell why Claire liked him so much. He was funny—it was more than half his charm.

Meg let out a snort, shaking her head. “Getting Cas to understand references is like trying to calm a bull, it just never works.”

“I get book references.” Castiel argued weakly.

“What's a book that's been recently published that you've read?” Meg cocked an eyebrow. Castiel stayed silent, glancing down at the table. “Yeah, that's what I thought.”

Castiel wasn't much of a combative person anyway, although he did sass some people in passing. Occasionally.

He glanced down at the menu and decided to change the subject. “Have you thought of what you want to get?”

“Interested in what a ‘white chili' entails.” Claire hummed, tapping against the laminated paper.

That piqued Castiel's interest as well. After a few seconds, he decided to take a picture of the menu. He had already tried the spaghetti, he now knew it was named Spaghetti Rosa because of its pinkish appearance, so he decided he would try something else.

A burger sounded nice. Castiel was a simple man, he really only liked cheese, ketchup, and pickles on his burgers, nothing else. So maybe one with peanut sauce and an egg would be nice to try.

“I never tried Tuscan Chicken before.” Meg hummed as she glanced down at the menu. “Seems like it'd be good.”

Sometimes Castiel wondered how he was friends with people who weren't as adventurous with food as he was. And, to be fair, Tuscan Chicken wasn't the wildest thing in the world. But Claire could say the same thing about Cas but with movies or books—he was set in stone with certain things, not even wanting to explore new things when he liked a certain thing so much.

“Here are your drinks.” Jo came back with a tray and set each drink down.

Castiel tasted his cocktail and was immediately surprised at just how good it tasted. Maybe he needed to test this cocktail everywhere else, however, he had a feeling no other place would compare to how Crossroads crafted it.

Jo folded the tray underneath her arm. “Are you ready to order or do you need a few more minutes to look at the menu?’

“I think we're ready to order.” Meg glanced at Castiel.

Everyone told Jo their order so she could go put it in. A part of Castiel wanted to march into the kitchen just so he could watch Dean in a busy kitchen up close but he was content with simply watching through the window.

“It's like we're not even here.” Meg commented.

Claire shrugged and let out a small laugh. “Try living with him.”

“Has he printed out pictures of Dean yet?” Meg asked, “Posted them on his wall?”

Claire laughed again. “I dunno, he doesn't let me in his room.”

Castiel was completely enraptured by the way Dean moved, even if he could only see his face and shoulders. Every so often, he could hear his voice each time a waiter came out of the kitchen with a plate or two. It was strong and commanding, even if he couldn't exactly hear what he was saying, he could hear that .

———

Dean had been shouting out orders since eleven in the morning. Ever since they opened, it's felt like a fever dream. They were booked months in advance and that… felt good. His thing was going to be successful, he just hoped this success would last.

“Alright! One Tuscan chicken, one white chili, one PE burger!” He called out.

The kitchen responded, “Yes, chef!”

Dean set the ticket down in its proper place, scribbling a few things down as well as highlighting some others. Then he started to help plate and garnish a few dishes, making sure a basil leaf was placed at just the right angle that it balanced perfectly on the noodles.

Jo came in a few moments later with a smile on her face. She nudged Dean a little. “Castiel Novak is at table 30, by the way.”

Dean sighed, rolling his eyes a little. “Sam already told me. Their meal will be compensated.” He said, glancing at Jo out of the corner of his eyes. “Hands, please.”

Jo pursed her lips, trying to keep herself from smiling, and took the dishes Dean just finished up with and left the kitchen to bring them out.

Dean wasn't so sure what made Castiel so enticing in his eyes, but he liked the man. He was attractive and had a wonderfully deep voice he may or may not have gotten off to just thinking about it. There was an unexplainable pull, like a fishing line that was reeling Dean in whether he liked it or not.

“Charlie!” He called, motioning her to come to him and stop what she was doing. “Do you have any extra apricot mousse?”

Charlie nodded, “Always do, chef.”

“Do me a favor and save three portions for table 30.” Dean told her.

Charlie smirked, “Will do, chef.” She went back to her proper station and immediately set aside three portions of the mousse.

“One more PE burger! One fettuccine, no mushrooms!” Dean called out as he grabbed the ticket.

“Yes, chef!”

His eyes scanned the other tickets on their way before he glanced back up at the pass. “Hey, I need some goddamn hands!”

As if on cue, Kevin made his way into the kitchen and grabbed the plates that were sitting out.

Dean rubbed his forehead for a moment and took a breath. This was stressful as hell but… he liked it. He also kind of liked the added pressure of Castiel being there. Sure, the guy had already raved a lot about his food so Dean wasn't too worried about disappointing him but there was an element he wasn't sure he could explain properly.

The early evening went by smoothly. Every time Dean so much as glanced Cas’ way, his face flushed at just how much it looked like he was enjoying the food. And it made his heart warm because Castiel decided to share his food with his family. Now that filled his heart faster than a dam breaking.

But he still had a job to do.

“Jack, that sauce is breaking! Try again.” Dean caught it out of the corner of his eye as he scrapped a few tickets.

As a chef, he was very observant. Not to mention, Dean was plenty observant to begin with seeing as he had to look out for any signs that his father would have an outburst. He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a deep breath.

He needed to remind himself sometimes that he wasn’t ten anymore. He had lived with Bobby as his father longer. He had lived as a man longer. Of course, that didn’t make the scars go away, but simply reminding himself of those things made living with them a little easier and helped them fade.

Sam gently touched Dean’s shoulder, looking over at his station and all the tickets on the board. “Castiel sends his compliments to the chef. And also thanks you for the free meal.” Dean could hear the smugness in his voice.

Guess Sam was following the handbook of younger siblings, being an annoying little shit.

“Don't you have people to take to tables?” Dean cocked an eyebrow, not once taking an eye off the tickets as he rearranged a few.

Sam put his hands up in a surrendering gesture, “Don't shoot the messenger.” He then retreated back out into the dining hall.

At least some of the stress was relieved now that Castiel was gone, he could go back to thinking he'd never see any of these patrons again unless they became regulars. While Crossroads delivered high-end food, their prices were relatively cheap. Which was what Dean wanted—to make high-quality meals at a lower price. So anyone could enjoy a nice meal every so often, not just the wealthy.

Time started flying far more than he had anticipated. Soon, the restaurant was closing and his staff was cleaning the entire place for the next day.

Dean let out a soft sigh and made his way to the back. His beloved Impala was parked out there. He was glad the building came with a staff parking lot, he didn't trust Chicago enough to leave his Baby in a parking garage for ten to twelve hours a day. No, he wanted his Baby where he could reach it.

Sometimes he wished he still smoked. Just to feel the cigarette burn against his fingers and let out the stress of the day. But he quit a while ago and didn't feel like making Emma or Sam worry about him like that ever again. Dean barely even drank anymore. He was sober, save for a few occasions like Hanukkah or birthdays.

He took a sip from his water bottle and looked up at the night sky. Sure, there was light pollution in the city but damn that moon was bright and the lights from skyscrapers acted like faux stars.

Occasionally, Dean thought about moving away to some rural area and buying a farm or something, but he realized he wouldn't know what to do with it. He was a busybody anyway. He always needed something to do.

Even at home, he'd clean the house, help Emma with homework, strum guitar a little, bake a cake, or cook dinner, breakfast, and lunch. He also worked out sometimes, he liked the way it made him feel. His workouts were not nearly as rigorous as Sam's, considering half his diet was also made of leaves, but it got the job done.

There was the increasing amount of tattoos across Dean's body. That was the only time he could stay still, only because the pain calmed him down in a weird way. The only addiction Sam didn't mind. Dean even had an appointment a few months out for a new one. It'd go on the back of his right hand.

He blinked a little when he felt his phone vibrate and chime in his pocket. He immediately took it out. Couldn't be Sam, he was still inside, as were most of the people he knew.

Cas: You really didn't have to pay for our meal today. I wanted to say thank you again. It was very thoughtful. I hope that if I come again, you'll let me pay for it next time. Have a good night!

Dean didn't even register the smile that was forming on his lips as he read the text. The type of smile that reached his eyes and made his skin crinkle a little at the edges.

He quickly typed out a response.

Dean: Don't worry about it, man. It's my restaurant after all. You have a good night too.

Dean scratched a little at his chin, wondering if maybe he could've written a little more. But it was too late, he already sent the text. He pursed his lips before he typed something else out.

Dean: When does the article come out?

Almost immediately, there was a text back.

Cas: In a few days! I'm excited to hear your thoughts.

A few more days. And Dean would be able to read what Cas thought of him and his restaurant. He was excited and nervous. Maybe that's why he was holding out on Cas, just to see his thoughts in a more substantial way.

———

taglist: @nexus-my-beloved

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pickledpascal · 1 month

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THE SIMS 4: BARBIE Legacy Challenge!

oh hi there! i haven't posted here in a while, but i just watched the barbie movie a few days ago and needless to say, it is now my entire personality. so here's my first ever legacy challenge based on barbie's many, many careers and achievements!

apologies in advance, this challenge uses a lot of packs! i'm sorry! i might try to make a base game version at some point

portuguese translation by @demaciana-sims

sims 3 version by @appaloosawhims

challenge rules below the cut

All heirs must be female and named Barbie. (non-heir children may have any name)

You may use the freerealestate cheat for your first house, but try not to use money cheats after that!

You are allowed and encouraged to use lot traits and rewards to boost skill gain, anything that’s in-game is fair game.

Packs you will need:

EPs: Get To Work, City Living, Cats & Dogs, Get Famous, Island Living

GPs: Spa Day*, Parenthood

Optional packs (for the optional generations):

EPs: University, Cottage Living, Horse Ranch

GPs: Strangerville

*You only need Spa Day for the High Maintenance trait in one of the generations and nothing else, so it's fine to skip out on it.

You've been raised with traditional values: find a good man, start a family, be a homemaker... But you want your children to aim higher, so you'll make sure to set them up for success.

Complete Successful Lineage aspiration

Max Parenting and Cooking skills

Have at least 3 kids and 1 pet, each child must complete at least one child aspiration and they must all max out their grades in school

Must have Family-Oriented trait

Your mother was happy staying at home, but not you. You're ready to fight your way to the top and make enough money to support your family for generations to come.

Complete Fabulously Wealthy aspiration

Max Charisma and Logic skills

Max Business career (Investor branch)

Must have Ambitious trait

Your family is pretty wealthy, so you've used your funds to open up your very own vet clinic and follow your dreams of being surrounded by furry little guys all day! But it might be more difficult than you thought...

Complete Friend of the Animals aspiration

Max Veterinarian skill

Run a 5-star vet clinic

Have at least 3 pets and be good friends with all of them

Must have either Cat Lover or Dog Lover trait

You grew up surrounded by pets, and you now want to explore even more of the animal kingdom... So you're going underwater! What magical secrets will you discover on your journey?

Must live in Sulani

Complete Beach Life aspiration

Max Conservationist career (Marine Biologist branch)

Become a mermaid

Max Logic and Fitness skills

Must have Child of the Ocean trait

Your mother had an almost supernatural level of fitness at sea, so now you've been inspired to master fitness on land! You're determined to reach your full potential in physical performance and become a world class champion.

Join Cheer or Football team as a teenager and reach highest level

Complete Bodybuilder aspiration

Max Fitness and Charisma skills

Max Athlete career (Athlete branch)

Must have Active trait

Your family has achieved many, many accolades, and you've set out to capture all of it in an epic Tell-All novel that you spend your entire life writing!

Complete Bestselling Author aspiration

Max Writing skill

Write Book Of Life and bind it to your parent, use it to successfully bring them back from a premature death

Must have Creative trait

Movie stardom is the next logical step for your lineage, so you set out to conquer the silver screen. Will you catapult the family name into even greater heights, or will it now be associated with infamy?

Complete Master Actress aspiration

Max Acting skill

Must reach at least Proper Celebrity status

Must have a secret affair with a fellow Actor!

Must have High Maintenance trait

As the child of a successful actress, people may roll their eyes and immediately write you off as yet another nepo-baby trying to start a music career... So you must prove them all wrong by becoming a proper rockstar!

Complete World Famous Celebrity aspiration

Max Singing skill

Max skill in at least 2 instruments

Max Entertainer career (Musician branch)

Must have Music Lover trait

What's next after conquering so many careers and reaching worldwide fame for the family name? World domination, of course! Become the greatest Leader this nation has ever seen!

Complete Mansion Baron aspiration

Max Politician career (Politician branch)

Max Charisma skill

Must have Self-Assured trait

Now that you've conquered the world, it's time to venture out into Space! There's so much to explore out there, and Barbie must leave her mark all across the galaxy.

Complete Nerd Brain aspiration

Max Logic and Rocket Science skills

Go to SIXAM at least once and bring a souvenir

Must have Genius trait

Still want more? Here's some extra Barbies that you can play with!

Countryside Barbie

Complete Country Caretaker aspiration

Max Gardening skill

Must make all money from gardening, farming, wine making, etc. No day job!

Must own a horse and have it max every skill

Must have Animal Enthusiast trait

Army General Barbie

Must live in Strangerville

Complete Strangerville Mystery aspiration

Max Logic and Charisma skills

Max Military career (Either branch)

Must have Erratic trait

Scientist Barbie

Complete Nerd Brain aspiration

Max Scientist Career

Be abducted by Aliens at least once

Must have Genius trait

Ultimate Barbie

Set lifespan to long

Complete at least 2 child aspirations

Complete Renaissance Sim AND Academic aspirations

Max 10 skills

Have 12 or more traits

Graduate from college

Reach the top of any career

Have a house worth 1 Million Simoleons

Have at least 5 kids and max your relationship with all of them

that's about it! if you play this, please use #sims barbie legacy

have fun:)

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pickledpascal · 2 months

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Meat & Candy

Chapter Three

Warnings: innuendos, sibling teasing, dean being nervous, swearing.

Word Count: 3.6k

Meat & Candy Masterlist

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Before Castiel left the restaurant, he and Dean exchanged numbers to work out a time for Dean’s “lesson.” Castiel couldn’t help but feel excited about it.

Not only because Dean was an attractive man but because he loved food and he loved seeing the process of a professional chef. The way they moved around in a busy kitchen, how they prepared for the upcoming day, the precise hand of how they plated a dish—it all interested him. And told Castiel a lot about a chef. Would Dean be one of those hot-headed chefs who screamed at his staff when a plate came to the pass raw and ultimately pushed his chefs to be better? Or was Dean more calm, collected, and gently pushed until he’d talk with one of his chefs about their performance?

Castiel hoped it was the latter.

As Dean’s eyes followed Castiel through the windows, Sam snickered behind him. Dean turned, rolling his eyes. “Spit it out, Sammy.”

“‘Would you like to come back tomorrow?’ So we can kiss on the mouth?” Sammy mocked in a deeper voice, imitating Dean. “You’re so obvious sometimes, Dean. I’m surprised Castiel didn’t just kiss you goodbye.”

Dean titled his head. “What?” He felt dizzy. Did Castiel like him? Well, Dean knew he could be charming and he knew his looks were enough to make anyone fall for him but he’s had…. Issues. Enough issues where he still got surprised that people found him attractive and liked him for who he was. Yeah, that still got him.

“You’re so fucking oblivious sometimes, I can’t believe you.” Sam let out a sigh, pushing a hand through his hair.

“Or maybe you’re just seeing things.” Dean pointed out, trying to push away the fluttering feeling in his chest.

The last time Dean had a relationship was nearly sixteen years ago when Emma was born. He had this on-and-off thing with Benny but Dean wouldn’t call that a relationship. More like friends with benefits. Plus, he cut that off a while ago. Now, they were just friends. Benny met a girl named Andrea and they were engaged. Dean was happy for him.

And Dean, for a while, was completely fine with being alone.

Lately, Emma hasn't been fine with it.

Did she want Dean to go home with just anyone? Absolutely not. But she wanted him to get out there. And Sam couldn't help but agree. Hell, everyone in Dean's life agreed.

And Dean…. Well, he didn't know what to do with that.

“What're you gonna do tomorrow anyway?” Sam asked, leaning up against the table he was working at.

Dean pursed his lips. “The classics? Maybe something else. I've been cooking up some stuff in my head.” He joked, snapping his finger and winking at Sam.

“You suck.” Sam wasn't impressed.

He had to deal with Dean's coping mechanisms for most of his life. Sam knew he was still affected by everything that happened to them when they were kids. Dean remembered most, if not all, of what happened to them. Sam, not so much, simply because he was younger and his early years were a little fuzzy.

“And you swallow.” Dean countered.

Sam let out a frustrated sigh as he rubbed his forehead. “Get the fuck outta here and get the shit for our tasting session.”

Dean laughed and nodded. “Gotcha. See in a few.” He went to the front door. “And by a few, I mean hours.” He waved as he exited.

One of Dean's favorite things to do as a chef is to walk around the alleyway markets, checking out the produce, talking to a few vendors, and simply taking the time to slow down. He knew a lot of chefs thrived on adrenaline and the heat of the kitchen. Not Dean. He thrived for these moments. Quiet ones. Calm ones. Don't get him wrong, he loved being in the kitchen and he loved the feeling of camaraderie among his cooks when they completed a service but he cherished his time off just as much.

“Hey, Donna!” Dean greeted her with a wide smile. He'd known Donna for a while.

She returned the smile. “Heya, Dean. What can I do ya for?”

“I’ll take five bunches of parsley, five pounds of tomatoes, two of apricots, and,” Dean grabbed one of the granny smith apples that sat in Donna's crates and tossed it into the air. “Three pounds of apples.”

Donna nodded and began to bag everything for Dean. She'd get one of her workers to deliver it to the restaurant. “You seen Jody yet today?”

“No, why?” Dean cocked an eyebrow. Jody was Dean's butcher of choice and she usually came in the afternoons to drop off whatever order he made in the morning.

“She has something special for ya.” Donna winked.

Dean chuckled softly and finished up, paying for all the things he got. He went to a few other vendors, talking and laughing as he paid for stuff. Some things he thought Emma would like. For instance, he got a citrus and herbal candle—Emma had a nice candle collection going and some of her favorite smells were citrus and floral.

When Dean came back from the markets, Emma sat at one of the tables doing her homework. He ruffled her hair when he got close. She shot him an annoyed, but affectionate, look.

“Math still suck ass?” He asked with an easy smile.

Emma let out a sigh as she looked down at her notebook that had scribbles she didn’t understand even though she was the one that wrote them down. “Yeah.”

“Want a distraction?” Dean leaned in closer to Emma, a hand on the back of her chair.

Emma glanced at her father from her work and thought it over. Dean was usually good at distractions but also good at reminding her to finish her work afterward. She stood and motioned for Dean to enter the kitchen.

Dean’s smile widened as he opened the kitchen door for her and watched as she interacted with Sam, Benny, and the other chefs—Lee, Garth, Jack, and Charlie.

To be fair, they were family to Emma before they were Dean’s employees.

“What should we have her on?” Lee rubbed his chin, looking at the youngest in their brigade, Jack. “Think she can handle searing off the meats?” He teased.

Jack laughed nervously, not sure if he should answer at all. “Well, uh….”

Benny rolled his eyes and punched Jack’s shoulder gently. “Don’t answer that. Lee’s just messin’ with ya.” He glanced at Emma who was glaring at them. “She could probably get every station done on time and still have time to do homework.” He winked.

Dean put a hand on Emma’s shoulder. “Must run in the family.”

“No. Uncle Sammy sucks in the kitchen.” Emma shuddered. Sam rolled his eyes.

The room burst into laughter. “Well, it runs in my blood.” Dean rephrased. “Anyway, c’mon,” His voice shifted to the one he usually used when he had to work, yelling orders over to pass to make sure his cooks heard him. “We’re gonna do a quick spread of each dish we will be serving, the correct portioning, so take small bites to make sure it tastes how it’s supposed to. Sam,” He looked at his behemoth of a brother, “Do not take bigger bites than you’re supposed to. You’ll be leaving scraps for Jack.”

———

After the interview, Castiel got some good work done on the article at the office. Sure, he could just write down the questions and Dean’s responses but where’s the fun in that? He wanted to make it more of a “character study” than an interview. He always felt normal interview articles lacked a certain soul. They never treated the person they were interviewing as a person.

“Hey, Cassie!” Castiel heard the familiar voice of his brother as he entered his house. And he could sense the scent of cooking wine.

“Hello, Gabriel.” Castiel greeted, seeing Claire sitting at the kitchen island as she watched Gabriel in the kitchen. Something in his heart squeezed.

Gabriel was no Masterchef—like Castiel would assume Dean would be—but he was less helpless in the kitchen than Castiel and helped him out a lot when he worked long days and wanted to make sure Claire ate something for dinner other than Wendy’s or some other fast food restaurant.

“How was that interview with Mr. Winchester?” Gabe asked with a suggestive tone.

Castiel tilted his head, turning to Claire. “Did you tell him?”

Claire shrugged and shook her head. “No. I mean I told him you were interviewing someone but I didn’t remember his name.”

Castiel looked from Claire to Gabriel with curious eyes.

His brother shifted slightly, his smug smirk never left his lips. “I sold that spot to Mr. Winchester. His house too. And occasionally we just talk for fun.” He shrugged.

Castiel's eyebrows raised. He had a connection to Dean? “How long have you known him?” He couldn't help but ask.

Gabriel's eyes squinted a little at him. “A while. We met while he was still in New York for culinary school.”

Castiel noted the fact that Dean went to culinary school in New York in the back of his head. He became more intrigued. Gabriel lived in New York over a decade ago. Castiel was mostly surprised he'd never heard of Dean before now. But then again, Gabriel could be the type to forget to let people know things.

He and Castiel were different that way. It was a wonder how they were related. They were very different but seemed to work well together.

“What…. Was he like?” Castiel asked, his heart pounding faster.

Gabriel shrugged, a knowing look in his eyes. “Hot. That hasn't changed much. And a little skinnier.” He laughed softly. “Now that changed. He put on some muscle. The man became a proper dilf.”

Claire tilted her head, suddenly a lot more interested in the conversation. Maybe that was part of the reason why the rumors of the restaurant were circulating around her school.

A hot head chef with a kid? It didn't even matter if he was single or not. Say hello to daddy issues.

———

Dean couldn't keep Castiel out of his head. He was buzzing around up there like a gnat—no, more like a bee. Gnats were far more annoying than bees. Bees were more important, too. They contributed to pollen dispersal and made honey. Honey was good. As far as Dean knew, gnats simply existed to annoy the hell out of people.

He leaned up against one of the counters in the kitchen and rubbed at his temples. He hadn't felt this kind of nervousness since he and Cassie were a thing. That thought made his heart sink.

Cassie was the last person Dean had been in a relationship with. The last person that meant something to him. In more than just a familial or friendly way.

And, shit, he was cooking for Cas. Cooking like this was intimate for Dean. It wasn't as meaningful when he was behind a wall, cooking for tables of people but Cas would actually be able to see the work and care he put into everything.

Wait, when did he become Cas?

Dean shook his head and took a deep breath. He tried to remember what his therapist told him. Those breathing exercises.

In. One, two, three. Hold. Out. One, two, three. Repeat three more times to make it an even four.

His heart slowed. Dean ran a hand through his hair before he noticed Benny standing near the back of the kitchen. He stood straighter.

“Did you, uh, watch all that?” Dean asked nervously.

Benny nodded as he approached slowly. “No worries, man. I get it. You like him. And….” He paused to try and find the right words. “It's been a while since you felt like that. Like something real might happen.”

Dean didn't want to look Benny in the eyes because he was exactly right. Why did Dean have to surround himself with people who could see right through him? Oh, right, because he wanted to hire people who he could trust and anticipate his needs before he asked for something.

“I'm proud of you.” Benny eventually said, eyes softening as he looked at Dean. “You deserve something nice. Someone nice.”

Dean closed his eyes at the praise. He felt like he didn't deserve it. He still wasn't used to it, even with as much praise Ellen and Bobby had given him over the years, the feeling didn't change much from his younger years. Dads sucked like that.

Benny pulled Dean into a hug, surprising him. Dean simply let it happen, holding onto him.

“You're such a good dad, y'know that?” Benny pulled away slightly to look him in the eye. He just wanted to be there for his friend. “I see the way Emma looks at you. Like you hung the damn moon, just for her. You're doing good, don't forget that.”

Dean took in another deep breath and nodded. “Thanks, man.” He leaned back against the counters. “I, um, I needed that.” He admitted.

“I knew you did.” Benny said softly. “Just… Do something for yourself for once, hm?”

With that, Benny was gone. He had retreated through the back door to give Dean some privacy.

Cooking could be intimate with the right person after all.

Or it could be hell.

Dean has felt his fair share of both in his forty or so years of being alive.

“Hello?” Castiel poked his head through the door to the kitchen, glancing around the room before his eyes landed on Dean. He had a notebook in his hands with a pen clipped on the cover.

He looked like a nerd. With his trench coat and tie combo. It made Dean smile.

“Um, Sam just let me in. I know I'm early. Is that okay? Or do you need more time to prepare?” Castiel asked shyly, playing with the edges of his notebook.

Dean's smile widened a little, his eyes crinkling at the edges. He quickly wiped the look off his face as he took a breath, “No, you're fine. Don't worry.”

He clapped his hands together before he motioned for Castiel to come closer. “Take a look around. Feel free to ask me any questions while I'm cooking, I can multitask pretty well.” Dean smirked and winked at the other man, not missing the way Sam looked at him through the window between the kitchen and the dining room.

Castiel hummed a little as he eagerly looked at the pre-portioned ingredients. It seemed like he was trying to figure out what Dean was going to do with them before he started.

He had no idea.

Less than a few minutes passed before the two dishes Dean made were finished. And Castiel's mouth was watering just looking at them.

Dean slid the first dish to Castiel. “This is my version of a classic breakfast. At least, what I assume is a classic breakfast.” He flushed a little as he looked down at the dish. “Egg's benedict with bacon on top and diced roasted potatoes.”

Castiel almost didn't want to take a fork and bite into it. The hollandaise was so fluffy and perfect looking with the way it dripped down the sides of the eggs and English muffin. And those potatoes? Seasoned to perfection and so golden.

“Is the… Is the English muffin homemade?” Castiel shook his head to try and focus.

Dean shook his head. “Charlie's a good baker but no. We get them locally though. A friend, Cassie, owns a bakery down the street.”

Castiel took a quick note. Dean sources his ingredients locally. And then he cut into the dish. And, shit, the egg was poached to perfection. The yolk ran out elegantly. He wasn't sure how else to describe it. He wanted to drink it like water. When he finally put a piece of it in his mouth, he let out a small sigh.

Castiel has had the pleasure of eating at some of the most expensive restaurants in Chicago and across the US because of his job but this… this felt like he got transported to Heaven and was cooked a meal by God himself.

He wished the meal could last forever. Alas, he ate the dish in a mere minute or two.

Dean let out a small laugh. “Hungry?”

“I barely ate today.” Castiel admitted. Maybe that was why it tasted better than anything he'd ever tasted before. But, at the same time, perhaps Dean was just that good of a chef.

Dean's eyes softened with a glint of sadness, sliding over dish number two. “Well, I'm glad you could fill up.” He scratched his eyebrow for a second. “This is, uh, homemade spaghetti with garlic, parsley, bacon bits—because I gotta put bacon in nearly everything—red pepper flakes for some spice. And I tossed it in some tomato sauce.”

Castiel looked at this dish carefully. It had some nice color with some red, green, and yellow and it didn't hurt that the bottom of the bowl wasn't dripping in sauce. Which was nice. However, he wasn't the biggest fan of bacon in pasta dishes.

“Why lightly toss the pasta?” He asked, curious. Surely it wasn't just for aesthetic reasons.

Dean chuckled a little at the question before he leaned against the countertop. “Gives the dish a nice color plus I want to save most of the sauce for other dishes. And I didn't want to overpower the dish. The red sauce I make can be….” He tried to find the right words. “Very flavorful in large amounts.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow at that before he swirled his fork in the pasta and took a bite. Well, shit. Those bacon bits worked pretty well in this dish. And he could understand what Dean was saying about the sauce. It was wonderful in this small amount but he wondered what it'd taste like if he had a pitcher that he could drink from.

He scribbled down a few more notes in a frenzy. Mostly just flavors and the composition of the dish.

“And, uh, who do you staff here? Professional chefs like you? Or are you open to anyone?” Castiel asked after a few minutes of other questions.

Dean pursed his lips for a second before his lips broke out into a smile. “I hire friends, mostly. Formal education or not. If I know you're good enough to work for me, then you're good enough.” He explained softly. “Like my best friend Benny, he's my sous, he used to work in New Orleans making lobster rolls and shrimp at little hole-in-the-wall places. Or, uh, Charlie, my pastry chef. She'd always make cakes for my birthday and they were incredible.”

Castiel chuckled softly. That would be a dream, getting to hire all your friends to work for you… Half his coworkers sucked.

“I try to make a positive environment for my chefs. And my waiters. And my stage, Sam.” Dean smiled softly. “I know a lot of kitchens can get heated. I don't want that. My daughter comes into the kitchen a lot to help and I don't want her seeing me throwing a pan at someone.” He quickly added, “I mean, I wouldn't do that to begin with but… I've seen it happen.”

“Don't worry. I get it.” Castiel smiled at Dean, glancing up from the counters to his face. He tilted his head. “You mentioned you had a daughter twice. Once yesterday. Is that why you wanted to do this? Give her something… to have later on?”

Dean licked his lips and shook his head. “My daughter… she pushed me to do this. To have something I could call my own that I didn't have to share with anyone. Sam helped me a lot, sure, but this is my restaurant. I don't have a partner or co-owner. It's… it's mine.” He took a deep breath, rubbing a hand up his face for a second. “I haven't had something like that in a while.”

Castiel nodded, his eyes softening as he looked at Dean. He made Castiel think of his own daughter. Maybe he was being too selfish and tried to focus too hard on advancing his career instead of Claire.

She deserved more.

“How… How do you think you did? As a parent?” Castiel asked softly.

Dean let out a soft laugh. “I don't know. Emma would say I'm the best dad ever but I'm not sure. There were times I struggled to pay bills but… but we always ate dinner together.” He loved those times, as much as they sucked.

Emma was such a wonderful child that Dean wasn't sure if that was his nurture or her nature. She always wanted to help in the kitchen. Perhaps it's because he liked it so much and she wanted to know why.

With grease stains on his shirts, oil scars on his hands, and a towel on his shoulder to pick up hot things. All Dean remembered was her smiling face biting into one of his burgers, with one of her front teeth missing. It's like he could see the memory shifting before his eyes. To Emma just a few days ago doing the exact same thing.

Fuck, Dean loved her with all his heart.

———

taglist: @nexus-my-beloved

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pickledpascal · 2 months

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Meat & Candy

Chapter Two

Warnings: mentions of child neglect and starvation, some innuendos (?)

Word Count: 3.1k

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Dean had been fussing over his appearance for what seemed like hours. Swapping out his shirt, his pants, anything that didn't seem right. Eventually, he settled on what he usually wore to his restaurant. A black chef's jacket, dark-washed jeans, boots, and a green bandana tied around his neck.

“Hey Dad!” Emma greeted between bites of leftover egg salad that she slathered onto some toast. “You excited?” She asked with a smirk.

Dean maneuvered into the kitchen and decided he might as well have the same thing as Emma. “Sam told ya, huh?” He pursed his lips as he popped two pieces of bread into the toaster and started up the coffee machine.

Emma shrugged bashfully but didn't deny it. Dean was glad Sam and Emma talked a lot without him needing to be there but sometimes it was the bane of his existence.

Dean had never been interviewed before. Especially not about his food. Sure there was that one time back in the 90s but that was years ago and it had nothing to do with him, it had everything to do with Bobby and Ellen and how so many locals loved that place. He was on his own now. Well, as ‘on his own’ as he could be with more than half the staff at his restaurant being friends he made years ago.

Needless to say, Dean wanted this interview to go well. He wanted good press—which was what Sam and Benny told him would happen. He wanted people to like him. And his food.

Cooking was Dean's favorite pastime. His labor of love. He partly blamed his cooking for how well Emma turned out so far. It was something they could do together when he came home at night, or sometimes in the morning, they could make breakfast together. Even when she was little, Dean had Emma wash vegetables and haphazardly chop them for preparation.

Dean took a few bites from his toast and hummed. “You wanna come to the restaurant after school? See the masters at work?” He asked teasingly.

Emma didn't grow up with Dean in Michelin star restaurants so she was excited to truly see him at work. The thousand-dollar stoves and ovens, the array of different pots and pans, the tile floor Emma helped pick out—yeah, Dean designed the entire restaurant from top to bottom. He did have help. A lot of help from Benny and he called in a few friends of Bobby's to make sure the restaurant was everything he wanted and more. Emma was happy for her father.

Nothing was quite like seeing his reaction to the finished product. Or even when he made the first menu for the place.

She knew that growing up, her father didn't have a lot. He had to scrape up money just to have food for the night. But that was before Grandpa Bobby came in. Life was still hard but it got easier. Dean was able to be himself, be the man he always knew himself to be. Even when Emma came into the world and messed with his plans a bit, his resolve never wavered. He just sort of…. Rolled with it.

“Maybe. But I have homework.” Emma set her plate in the sink. “And I love you, Dad, but you kinda distract me when you start singing when you clean the counters.”

Dean rolled his eyes affectionately. “You like it, kiddo.” He took another bite of his breakfast, careful to eat it over the plate to not get any crumbs on his jacket. It was freshly ironed and cleaned, he didn't need to get it dirtied. Especially before an interview.

Emma tilted her head slightly, lips forming a lop-sided grin. She didn't need to answer, Dean already knew the truth.

She leaned up on her tip-toes and kissed his cheek. “I'll see you later, Dad.” She smiled as he squeezed her shoulder in return. She grabbed her backpack from its chair, waved goodbye, and left through the front door.

Dean smiled fondly as Emma left for the day. He poured his coffee once the machine stopped, prepared it how he liked—three sugars, a healthy pour of cream—and took a sip. Like most people in the world, Dean had to have coffee in the morning or else the rest of his day would be out of order. He'd mess up dishes, send out the wrong plate, call out the wrong order—he’d be a mess.

He arrived at his restaurant a few hours before the interview, just to get his nerves under control. And to meet up with Sam and Benny.

Sam ran the front of house so he was usually there just to take reservations while it wasn't busy and no one else was there. Dean didn't know the extent of the reservations but he knew there were a lot. More than he expected at first.

It was exciting. And nerve-wracking.

Culinary school prepared him for a lot of things and, try as they might, nothing quite compared to actually opening up his own restaurant. It was happening. The reality of it. He couldn't believe it sometimes.

And Benny, his sous chef, was there partly for moral support and partly to do some inventory on non-perishable items. Dean prided himself on using fresh ingredients, as would any chef, but some things couldn't be worked around.

“Hey, Sammy, what can ya tell me about this interviewer?” Dean said as he slipped into the booth Sam was working at.

Sam glanced at Dean from his laptop and stopped typing. “Nothing. I just talked with Crowley and he said he'd give us his best writer. I didn't ask who it was and he didn't say a name.” Dean pursed his lips as he tapped his fingers on the table. “It's alright to say you're nervous.” Sam cocked an eyebrow at his brother.

“Me? Nervous?” Dean laughed as convincingly as he could, “Ha! Have you met me? I don't get cold feet, Sammy! I mean, hell, if anything, I'm the most confident son of a bitch you'll ever meet. Ego the size of the Sears Tower. Nerves of steel, me. Definitely,” He took a breath. “Not nervous. At all. Uh-huh.”

Sam stared at him.

Dean let out a puff of air, knowing his cheeks were red as he looked down at a grain in the table. He didn't meet Sam's eyes knowing he'd been caught even if he was too prideful to admit it. At first.

Dean relented. “Look, man, I haven't done anything like this before. I'm gonna be in a fucking newspaper. That's fucking weird. ”

“Better get used to it with the way things are going.” Sam pointed out softly. He took a breath, “Look, you're not alone here, Dean. We're all going through this. You think I'm not nervous at all? I'm the one handling all the calls about this place. Charlie's tryna make sure all the desserts are, in her words, superb. I'm pretty sure the powdered sugar fumes are starting to mess with her head. And Benny, god, I swear he's looked over your menu a million times at this point. Jo has washed the wine glasses so many times, I think her hands might prune.”

Dean got the point. But he couldn't help but feel the weight on his shoulders. It was his restaurant. His and his alone. He didn't co-own it with Benny or Sam. No, it was Dean's name on the lease. It was Dean who picked out the Prussian Blue paint on the walls. It was Dean who put the first chestnut piece of wood on the floor. It was Dean who hand-printed the menus.

The restaurant wouldn't be his if he didn't have a hand on everything that came into it. He even got a few splinters.

———

Getting to Crossroads was easier said than done. Cas had to find parking somewhere. Seeing as the restaurant was on one of the busiest streets of Chicago and Cas wasn't much of a walker, he came straight from his house, not the Tribune building.

He was pleasantly surprised with how the restaurant looked. With sweeping windows to peek inside and a sign he could see from miles away—if there weren't buildings in the way. Dean Winchester must've taken a few notes from the Roadhouse.

He could see a bit of movement in the otherwise empty restaurant as he walked up to the door. He gave it a light knock.

A man he didn't recognize opened it for Castiel. He had shoulder-length hair and kind, deep brown eyes. “Hello. You must be the interviewer.” He bowed his head like he was trying to make himself look smaller. The man was tall. “I'm Sam, Dean's brother and I run the front of house.” He stuck out his hand to shake.

Castiel remembered reading something about Dean having a brother but he didn't put it down in his notes. “I'm… Castiel. Castiel Novak. It's nice to meet you, Mr. Winchester.” He shook the man's hand, trying to recall what it was like to have to interact with people for the first time.

Sam let out a small chuckle, causing Castiel to tilt his head. “No one calls me Mr. Winchester. Just call me Sam.” Cas nodded as he followed Sam into the dining room.

Castiel swore the world stopped.

Dean Winchester had changed.

His hair darkened to a nice warm brown—it was a little longer too, curving around his ear and the nape of his neck—his body seemed to fill out his clothes properly, and he grew out some nice facial hair that Castiel wouldn't mind feeling on his skin. And, fuck, his tattoos. His arms weren't exactly covered in them but he had quite a few, the ones he noticed first were on his fingers. In traditional script, his right said “Dead” while his left said, “Alive.” He could see some resemblance in the brothers.

Castiel quickly collected himself and jutted out his hand. “I'm Castiel Novak, it's nice to meet you, Chef Winchester.” He barely took in his surroundings, a little distracted by the handsome man in front of him.

“Nice to meet ya too. Just call me Dean.” The man smiled as Sam retreated to a spot with a computer. God, the curve of his lips. Castiel would be content he was struck by lightning and Dean was the last thing he saw on Earth. Dean motioned to the table he was sitting at. “I'm sure you'd like to sit for this, huh? Parking can be a bitch.” It was set up with cups and a water pitcher. The glass across Castiel's place was full.

Castiel squinted at his choice of words. “Yes. However, I was able to find a spot a few blocks away. Not too bad.” He set his leather bag on the floor next to him and took out his notebook. His throat felt parched. He took a long sip from his water. “Well, uh,” He coughed as he took out his phone. “My phone is going to record this conversation if that's okay. I'm only doing this because I'm not the best at writing as people speak and I don't want you to have to repeat yourself.”

Dean nodded and gave him a patient smile. “That's alright. I mean, I don't know how interviews work so,” He waved his hand and tilted his head slightly, “You have free reign here.”

Castiel didn't want to think too hard about what that could mean in other circumstances. “Right,” He turned the audio recorder on. “Interview with Chef Dean Winchester at Crossroads.” He cleared his throat. “Chef Winchester, thanks for taking the time to meet. From what I hear, you'll be quite busy in a few days.”

“Yeah, well,” Dean shrugged bashfully as a beautiful shade of pink graced his cheeks. “I just hope me and the staff can live up to the hype. Knowing my staff, they will. Me? Not so sure.”

Castiel cocked his head at Dean. He immediately caught onto his self-diminishing tendencies. To some, it might come across as humility but Cas knew better. “Well, would you like to tell me a little bit about yourself to begin?”

“Sure, uh,” Dean coughed slightly. “I used to live in Naperville when I was young. Until I turned ten, if I remember correctly, then I moved into the city when I got adopted by my, now, parents.”

“Bobby and Ellen?”

Dean looked visibly taken aback. “Yeah.” He quickly adjusted his expression to be more neutral. “They let me work at their restaurant a while back. I wouldn't be here without them.” There was a fondness in his eyes when he talked about them.

Then again, Castiel hoped that would happen when a child talked about their parents. However, he wasn’t oblivious to the things that went on in the world.

“Has food always been a passion of yours?”

Dean let out a breathy chuckle. “Not exactly. Food and I had… an interesting relationship growing up.” Castiel nodded for him to continue. Dean took a breath as he shifted in his seat. “My dad, my biological one, wasn’t the best. My mom died when I was four and he sort of just stopped caring—meaning I had to take care of Sam, some nights I’d go as far as to starve myself just to make sure he had something to eat. When we did have enough for the both of us, I’d gorge myself on it 'cause I never knew when I’d have something like that again.”

“What made that change?” Castiel’s lips pursed as a crease formed between his brows. He wasn’t quite prepared for this but he appreciated Dean’s honesty and openness.

“The fact I had a stable home. Bobby and Ellen weren’t rich but they always had food on the table, no matter what.” Dean admitted as his fingers drummed against the table. “That’s why I started to cook, turned out I had such a knack for it that they hired me at their bar. People loved my food,” His eyes sparkled with passion. Castiel loved seeing him like this. “It’s so… nice to know people like your food, y’know? I put my heart into every dish I make, it’s nourishment, and I want people to feel full when they walk out that door.”

“Is that why you opened Crossroads?” Castiel hadn’t even registered that his voice softened.

Dean spoke so passionately, so fondly, Castiel felt it. Maybe Dean wasn’t the most eloquent speaker but Castiel was sure the man could convince him of anything if he spoke that way to him.

“Some of the reason, yeah.” Dean looked flustered again. “Maybe it’s a bit selfish. I was fortunate enough to go to culinary school,” That answered one of the questions on Castiel’s mind. “And half the people there thought they were destined to share their art with the world. Me? Not so much. Like I said earlier, I just want people to eat my food and be happy with it. I have nothing to prove. Besides, maybe this place could be successful.”

Castiel wet his lips. “Why name the restaurant Crossroads anyway?”

“It’s partly because the kind of food we serve here. Culinary school taught me French techniques but I grew up mainly making American cuisine. We serve a mix here.” Just when Castiel thought he was done, Dean continued. “But it’s also just… The story of my life. I couldn’t count the number of times I felt like I was at a crossroads on both hands.” Castiel was intrigued but didn’t push. He had only just met the man after all.

“Why open your own restaurant? The way you’re talking about them, Bobby and Ellen would have been content to give you their bar.”

Dean shook his head with a light laugh. “I could never touch the Roadhouse. It’s perfect the way it is. But,” He paused, eyes flicking over the table. “I want something I can call mine. Solely mine. Which is nerve-wracking but,” He breathed but forced a smile on his face, “Nothing’s ever easy, I’ve come to learn—and I’m prepared for it not to be.”

Castiel quickly looked back down at his notes, noticing the light scarring on Dean’s hands and arms. “What do you hope to accomplish from this?”

The question seemed to surprise Dean. His lips pursed as he thought for a while. “There is the short-term gratification of being a successful restaurant that doesn’t have to close down after six months,” He tried to joke. “But there’s also security in that. The security of a proper, flowing income will make sure my kid never has to go through what I went through. She’s part of the reason I did this.” He motioned to their surroundings. “She wants me to be happy. I want her to be happy. It’s a cycle at this point.” He chuckled.

“Alright,” Castiel said reluctantly, “I think that’s all the questions I have.” He turned off the recorder and pocketed his phone. He gathered his things and stood. “It was nice talking with you.” And he meant it. Every single word.

Dean quickly stood as well. “You too,” He averted his eyes for a moment too long that Castiel thought he might’ve done something to offend the man. “Would you, uh, like to come back tomorrow? So you can see me work and put it in your article or something?”

A warm feeling washed over Castiel. He couldn’t help the smile that graced his lips. “That sounds wonderful.”

Spending more time with Dean was more than what Castiel could ask for. Not only that, but it would help to see Dean’s process. To witness the amount of love and care he put into each dish. He didn’t doubt Dean’s words but it was an entirely different thing to see and perhaps taste the compassion, the dusting of his heart, the careful composition from his hands.

His hands. When Castiel shook hands with Dean, he could feel the roughness of them. But he could also tell they were used to delicately place a garnish on top of a dish. Dean had gone through so much that he knew the strength of being gentle. How much it took to be gentle. How much it mattered.

God, Castiel needed to use that thought as a line in his article.

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pickledpascal · 2 months

Text

Meat & Candy

Chapter One

Warnings: none really, just cas being a simp already.

Word Count: 1.6k

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Castiel typed at his desk. He was just finishing up one of his reviews on a recent restaurant that opened up a few weeks ago. It was good for a night out with friends, which wasn’t bad, but it was nothing to rave about.

“Novak,” Crowley. The head editor of the Chicago Tribune and the one who basically ran the place. “Walk with me.”

Castiel scrambled to stand as Crowley began to walk to his office. Quickly, he gathered his footing and made it to his office. “Yes?” He asked. Even after all the time he’s worked there and knew Crowley, there was still something unsettling about the man. Maybe it was the accent and all the dark-colored suits he wore to work each day.

“I have your new assignment.” He hummed with a wave of his hand. “He’s some up-and-coming, big-deal chef. I want you to interview him.”

Castiel faltered slightly. Sure, his entire thing at the Tribune was about food and this was great because it was related but he had never done an interview before. He was content simply writing reviews about new restaurants, he didn’t want there to be any bad blood between him and the owners in case he wrote something they didn’t like that was personal.

“Why can’t Anna or Zachariah take this?” Castiel asked, wringing his hands.

Crowley cocked an eyebrow at Castiel. “They don’t write like you do.” While that was a compliment, Castiel couldn't help but feel off-put by it. “Plus, you’ve been wanting something more challenging for a while, haven’t you?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“Then I want you to go home tonight, research Dean Winchester, and come up with a line of questions. The interview is tomorrow at one. The restaurant is called Crossroads.” Crowley’s tone held no room for argument.

Castiel let out a reluctant sigh. “Alright. Do I at least get a bonus for this?” He tried softly.

Crowley looked at him, cocking an eyebrow. Then he thought it over. “I could give you five percent.”

Five percent is better than nothing. Half his colleagues barely got any raises. But as Crowley said, no one wrote like Castiel. He gave Crowley a half-hearted smile in return.

Castiel loved his job, he really did, but even he had his moments. Moments where he hated it with a burning passion. Moments where he hated everyone he worked with. Well, besides a few people he liked but even they could get on his nerves if they really wanted or he had a particularly horrible day.

He started to get tired of it more often than not.

He barely had any time for his daughter and, when he did, it was after work and he didn't want to do anything. He loathed that even more. He felt like he was going a step in the wrong direction when it came to the parenting department.

Castiel came home to see Claire lounging on the couch as he set his keys on their designated holder. He had a townhouse just outside the city in Cicero. It was nice and cozy. He didn't need much more space, it was perfect for him. He wasn't so sure how Claire felt about it though.

“Hey, I'm gonna make some pasta real quick. That okay?” He called as he entered the kitchen. Claire let out an affirmative hum as a response.

For someone who wrote about food for a living, Castiel's home meals were nothing fancy. But they got the job done. And Claire didn't complain much.

“How was school?” Castiel asked as they sat down for dinner. This was some of the only time he was able to spend with her and he cherished it deeply.

Claire shrugged. “The same. Mrs. Butters sucks. Mrs. Mills is great. Kaia and I had lunch together.”

Castiel nodded, pursing his lips. As much as he loved and yearned for this time with Claire, sometimes he had no idea what to do with it once he got it.

“So…. Anything cool you get to write about?” Claire asked as she twirled some spaghetti on her fork.

Castiel pushed the noodles around in his bowl. “I have an interview with a chef tomorrow.”

Claire perked up. “Really? Who?”

“Not Gordon Ramsay.” Castiel chuckled. He knew of this generation’s love for the hot-headed chef. But Cas had to admit the guy's food was pretty good. Claire shrugged like she was half-expecting it to be him but looked at Cas expectantly anyway. “It's some new guy—he’s opening his first restaurant. Dean Winchester. It’s called Crossroads.”

Claire pursed her lips, “Some of my friends were talking about it. Well,” She let out a breathy laugh. “More like their parents were talking about it and they were talking to me about how their parents were talking about it.” Castiel nodded for her to continue, intrigued. “Kaia’s mom said she saw the sign being put up on Michigan Ave a few days ago. They were thinking about going when it opened.”

Thoughts spiraled inside Castiel's head. There was already this air about Crossroads in the public mind. Then again, this was Chicago . Sure, when most people talked about American cuisine, they mentioned New York or LA or maybe even Texas before Chicago but the city had its own, unique food identity—mainly described with deep dish pizza and perfected hot dogs but there was so much more than just that. Restaurants opened and closed every day in the city, but not all of them created a buzz around it.

No, Crossroads was different. Castiel could sense it. He just needed to figure out why.

He hoped his time with Dean would shed some light on that. However, he needed to research him first. Perhaps that would help.

That's how he found himself, sitting in the middle of his bed with his laptop in front of him and a notebook off to the side, a single lamp on in his room, as he scribbled down as many notes as possible to figure out what the hell he wanted to talk about with Head Chef Dean Winchester.

Castiel was only able to find so much. Dean Winchester wasn't mentioned nearly at all online. Nearly no social media presence at all except for the restaurant’s Instagram page and a few pictures Dean posted to his personal account except none of them showed his face, just a few pictures of the interior and exterior of the restaurant and, who Castiel assumed was, his daughter. But Castiel was a journalist for a reason so he searched harder.

He found out that he used to be a line cook for a nearby bar on Route 66. The Roadhouse. Owned by Bobby Singer and Ellen Harvelle. The reviews were good from what he saw but it wasn't the type of restaurant Dean was opening. Not from what he assumed. Crowley wouldn't be giving him this interview if it was just some run-of-the-mill bar and restaurant.

Castiel wanted to know why Dean wanted this change. The change from something more comfortable and homey to something more upscale and perhaps “snooty.”

Throughout his search, he found an old local newspaper article with Roadhouse on the face of it dated 1999. There was a picture of the cooks at work. Dean Winchester was framed to be in the center as he looked over the stove, caring for a steaming burger.

Castiel was stunned. His throat felt dry. He swallowed thickly and then took a sip from the water sitting on his nightstand.

Sure, the picture was old and he knew Dean would likely look different but, God, the man looked incredible. Dean wore a tight-fitting black T-shirt with an apron around his waist but it was his face that intrigued Cas more. The sharpness of his jaw, the roundness of his eyes—the color of his eyes—the wisp of his eyelashes, the way his freckles contrasted against his light, sweaty skin. That bead of sweat on his cheek that looked like a tear needed a raise. Whoever took that photo needed a raise, wherever they were.

Thankfully, the article had more than just Castiel's first look at Dean Winchester.

Dean was not only Bobby and Ellen’s line cook but also their adoptive son. Castiel's eyebrow cocked at that. That didn't exactly answer his question but he'd tuck that information away for later. He scribbled the piece of information down.

After finding not much else, Castiel scratched at his stubble—noting it might be time for a shave. He had to go the generic route, which he loathed. Even if he didn't want to do the interview to begin with, something inside him wanted it to be different than the ones he'd usually read in the Times.

He wrote down a few quick questions and reordered them a few times to see how they flowed better. Would this one work better before or after this one? Which should be the last question? What about the first? He scratched out a few he didn't think would work. Too generic. So much so it made his skin crawl.

Castiel wanted his questions to open up conversation, not simply be yes or no questions. His journalist heart liked hearing stories, it was like peeking into a small window of someone's life at a particular moment. He hoped Dean had plenty to share with him.

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pickledpascal · 2 months

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Meat & Candy

Chef!Dean Winchester x Journalist!Castiel Novak

Jensen Ackles Masterlist

Taglist open here !!!

Fic on AO3

The journalist for the food column just so happens to be Castiel Novak.

ONE. TWO. THERE. FOUR. FIVE. SIX.

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pickledpascal · 2 months

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Bewitched

Chapter Seven: Bleed Magic

Warnings: Violence, assault, racial profiling, swearing.

Word Count: 2.2k

Bewitched Masterlist

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Beau was swamped at work. And Dalia was outside, playing somewhere. Kiera didn't mind having the house to herself but she was so used to having the chatty sheriff around that the house seemed too silent. She sighed and grabbed a shawl to wrap around her body. She had been working at home for most of that day and just finished everything up. File some documents, talk with a few clients over the phone, small stuff like that. She needed to find Dalia to get dinner, but she usually appeared on time once it was done.

Kiera drew in a deep breath. Much like Beau, recently, her mind had been a mess between work and trying to take care of Dalia and also having a personal life. Maybe a walk would do some good? Feel the cool night air pass through her lungs. Perhaps that was why some people thought she was a vampire.

She went on quite a few night walks when things began to overwhelm her. She really wasn't beating the witch allegations either.

Kiera pushed her hands into the pockets of her pants as she stepped onto the sidewalk. Her neighbors weren't too close but enough that they would be able to see fires in the sandbox behind her house or any other “activities” Dalia did. They sure as hell loved to complain.

She took a deep breath as she walked, feeling the cool air fill her lungs. Strangely, it always made her feel better. She let out the breath, a light smile at the edges of her lips. She ran a hand through her hair and pushed it to gather on her right shoulder to feel the coolness on her neck slightly. The worries on her mind we're slowly melting away.

Kiera admired the trees, still green and blooming from the beginnings of spring. Dalia always loved picking flowers and giving them to her, wildflowers.

Kiera wasn't sure how she knew the difference between poisonous plants and normal ones, but she hadn't needed to go to the hospital yet so Kiera imagined she was extremely careful or read enough books on flowers that she didn't need to guess.

After a little while, she wondered what Beau was up to. If he was still at work or was back at his trailer. She hummed a tune stuck in her head, something new by Dua Lipa she heard while flipping to the Metal station. She had versatility, it wasn't like she couldn't enjoy other types of music, she just had more of a preference for Goth music and its subgenres.

An unsettled feeling formed in Kiera's stomach. Her eyes narrowed. She had learned to trust her instincts over the years. She glanced at her surroundings, no one else was out…

Kiera began to turn around and blinked as a knife was slashed through the air, she just narrowly dodged it, getting nicked near her shoulder. It was too dark to tell what the person was wearing besides the mask on their face.

Acting as quickly as she could, she grabbed onto their outstretched arm and used her other hand to punch the person in the jaw. They were knocked out cold.

Hm, working out certainly did its intended purpose.

———

Late nights at the Sheriff's office was not how Beau liked spending his evenings. He'd give anything to be in Kiera's bed, surrounded by her warmth and soothing scent—he wanted it injected into his veins. Well, maybe that was a bit dramatic.

He scratched at his neck, letting out a frustrated groan as he went over a case file for the millionth time it felt like.

“Hey,” There was a knock on his door. Beau looked up from the file to see Mo peeking inside. “It's, uh, something happened with Kiera.”

Beau blinked, immediately standing up from his desk, causing his chair to hit the wall. “What the hell happened?” His heart started to race. Kiera told him she could take care of herself and he trusted her but, at the same time, he couldn't help but worry.

Mo coughed a little. “Neighbors called the cops, thinking she started a physical altercation.”

Beau raised an eyebrow and shook his head. “I'm gonna check it out, okay? And good-fucking-night cause I'm not coming back here ‘till mornin’.” He told Poppernack, grabbing his jacket and making his way to his truck.

He needed to add Kiera's neighbors onto his punch list. He gripped the steering wheel hard, knuckles turning white. Just what he needed after a long day, his girlfriend getting the cops called on her for something she likely didn't start herself.

As he rode into Kiera's neighborhood, it didn't take too long seeing as there were a few cop cars and an ambulance. He could see Kiera inside the back of it.

Beau jumped out of his car, nearly forgetting to put it in park. “Beau Arlen, Lewis and Clark County Sheriff's office,” he flashed his badge at the paramedics to let him through. As he got closer, he could see she was cuffed to the side of the ambulance. And the bandage on her shoulder. “Kiera, sugar, you okay?” He cupped her face.

Kiera looked up at Beau and hummed a little. “Should see the other guy.” She teased, eyes tired.

“What the hell happened?” He asked, looking for any other sign that she was distressed but found none and that… saddened him.

“Fucker tried to shank me from behind, only left a small scratch.” She rolled her shoulder that had the wound on it. “In return, I gave him a mean left hook. I guess they thought I decided to beat someone up for fun.” She let out a humorless laugh.

Beau narrowed his eyes at Kiera before he turned to one of the paramedics. “Get these cuffs off her for me.”

“Um, yessir.” He was a young kid and did immediately as asked.

Beau sat next to Kiera and wrapped an arm around her waist, “We can deal with this in the morning, hm?” He suggested softly. He could feel just how tired Kiera was by looking at her. It seemed her emotions were running thin, as was her capacity for empathy.

After being with Kiera for a while, Beau started to notice things about her. Signs of when she was having worse days than others. How quiet she'd get, how much she tried to be excited about things but wasn't, things of that nature.

“I was gonna make dinner.” Kiera murmured in a monotone voice.

Beau shook his head and helped Kiera stand even though she probably didn't need it. “I'm sure I can scrounge something up for all of us to have, sugar, it's alright.”

“Where the hell is she going?” A woman cried out, arms crossed against her chest. She was fair skinned with blonde hair and a robe on, as if she was just awakened in the middle of the night. She probably was.

Beau glanced from Kiera to the blonde woman. “That's Cindy,” Kiera said, “The one who called the cops.”

He pursed his lips and nodded. Time to turn up the charm. “Hello, Miss.” He turned to face the blonde. “I'm afraid you misread the situation with Kiera here, she was defending herself against an attacker. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take her home.”

“Excuse me?” Cindy raised an eyebrow. “Who are you to just let her off the hook? That thing,” She motioned towards Kiera's general direction. “Has been causing so much trouble in this neighborhood and I want her arrested!”

Beau rubbed Kiera's unscathed shoulder before he looked back at Cindy, pulling back his jacket to reveal his badge. “I'm Sheriff Arlen, ma’am. And I know this woman personally. But I would love to hear about this trouble you speak of, has Kiera put you or anyone else in this neighborhood in any danger at all?”

“No, well, I—”

“Then have a good night, ma’am.” Beau guided Kiera back home.

Dalia was waiting in the living room, kicking her feet with her head held down. Kiera was silent and sat down next to her.

Beau pursed his lips. He kneeled down in front of Dalia and cupped her face gently. “You hungry, honey?” She nodded.

Like mother, like daughter, huh?

“Alright, I'll heat up some leftovers. That okay?” They both nodded. He stood back up and pressed a kiss to Kiera's head. “After dinner, I'm gonna take a look at that shoulder.”

Dinner came and went, barely any sound besides their utensils against bowls and a slight wince from Kiera when she moved her shoulder the wrong way.

Once Dalia was put to bed, Beau helped Kiera take off her shirt so he could assess the damage. It wasn't horrible and the stitches the paramedics gave her were expertly done. He sighed as he dabbed a bit of alcohol on the wound to clean it and bandage it back up for the night.

“Y'know… I don't know what I'd do without you.” He murmured softly, ripping the gauze before he taped it against her shoulder.

Kiera let out a soft breath. “I know.” She lifted a hand to cup Beau's cheek, caressing it softly. “You are quite the diamond, aren't you?” Her eyes were soft and filled with adoration.

Beau fastened the gauze on her, lowering his hand to rest on her arm. “What does that mean?” He asked with a small smile.

“Just that I love you,” Kiera smiled back. “And I could never dream of leaving you. Even if your hands were stained in my blood, I don't think—no, I know—I would smile through the pain.” She glanced away from Beau just as he was about to say something. “But you'd never do that. And that is what makes you a diamond to me.”

Beau couldn't respond to that. What the hell would he even say? ‘Thanks.’ That didn't even begin to cover it. He pulled Kiera into a kiss, something soft but full of emotion.

If things didn't go the way they did, Kiera might've been killed. And, fuck, that thought scared him. He would've been devastated. Dalia would've been practically homeless unless Beau properly adopted her and… well, he knew about the horror of foster homes and— and—

“You're thinking too hard, sweetheart.” Kiera's soothing voice whispered. “What happened happened. I'm alive.” She hooked a finger under his chin.

Beau let out a humorless chuckle and nodded. “I know you are. I do. It's just—”

“Breathe.”

“What?”

“Breathe with me.”

“I don't—”

“You have a punch list or whatever. Do a breathing exercise with me, hm?” Kiera suggested with a slight smile. “And maybe lose the flannel.”

Beau glanced down at his attire and sighed, shaking his head but doing as asked. He stripped off his jeans, boots and flannel and got in bed next to her. She raised a hand to rest over his wildly beating heart.

“Deep breath in.”

Beau drew in a breath.

“Hold it. For… one, two, three, four. Now exhale.”

He exhaled. Simply listening to the sound of her voice calmed him.

“Can you just… keep talking? Please?” Beau asked gently. He could already feel his heart rate slowing.

The edges of Kiera's lips twitched upwards. “About what?”

“Anything.” Beau breathed.

She pursed her lips for a moment. She could talk for hours about any given topic yet found it hard to choose just one. “Well, y'know I really like video games? My favorite is a series called Uncharted which was recently turned into a movie which fuckin’ sucked ass. I mean, they ruined Sully's characters so irrevocably. I understand they're going for a young Nate but goddamn, they really—”

Beau was listening. He was. Well, maybe not exactly. But he loved her voice and maybe, subconsciously, he was taking in the information and filing it away for later so he'd understand what she was talking about in the future.

Eventually, Kiera talked Beau to sleep. He was quite the snorer. Probably something to do with those Texan genes. Not that Kiera had ever met a real Texan before Beau. So she didn't have anything to base that off of besides her own imagination mixed with stereotypes she’s heard.

Perhaps Beau thought the same things about her. As both a transgender woman and a Native American. There were enough stereotypes about that to fill an entire three-hundred page book. He didn’t seem to care about that. Another reason he was a diamond. Someone who didn’t care about her identity—at least, not in that way. In fact, he was quite interested in her heritage and what it all meant. Not to mention, Beau quite liked trying new foods.

Kiera got as comfortable as possible in bed with Beau, being careful with her shoulder and pressed a kiss to his forehead. She imagined Beau would be quite similar to a bear as he slept, big but soft and fluffy. He also really loved to cling to her and nearly always shifted in bed when she tried to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night.

Or maybe Beau was more like a dog. A big dog. Who loved unconditionally. Yeah, that was it.

-------

taglist: @deans-spinster-witch

#oc #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x oc #jensen ackles x reader #transgender #beau arlen #queer #beau arlen x oc #beau arlen x reader #big sky s3 #big sky #big sky fanfiction #trans women #transgirl #native american #native girls

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pickledpascal · 2 months

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killer queen is finally finished !!! 😁

Jensen Ackles Masterlist

Main Masterlist

requests open for one shots !

Series:

New Perspective

Jensen Ackles x OC!Avery Cairo (Complete)

Lover

Jensen Ackles x OC!Avery Cairo (Complete)

Killer Queen

Soldier Boy x OC!Amber Cali (Complete)

Bewitched

Beau Arlen x OC!Kiera Styx (in progress)

One Shots:

Staring Into the Blue (Beau Arlen x daughter!OC)

Long Story Short, It Was a Bad Time (Dean Winchester x Castiel)

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pickledpascal · 2 months

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Killer Queen

Chapter Six: all-american bitch

Warnings: gore, violence, ben being ben (old), swearing, 18+ themes.

Word Count: 1.8k

Killer Queen Masterlist

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Walking the halls of Vought felt like a fucking fever dream for Ben. The tower still had the same amount of floors, but it had changed radically. Cleaner floors, screens, and lights were everywhere that it almost made his head hurt. Almost.

His boots were heavy against the clean, marble floors. He put on a fake smile as he walked past a few employees, well, a lot of employees. If Ben was in his “civilian” clothes, they probably wouldn't have batted an eye, however, he wasn't. He wore his Supe suit—minus the helmet, he always thought the redesign of it looked a little stupid.

Ben simply waltzed right into Stan Edgar's office. He timed his entrance just right, no one else was in the room. That was by design.

“Ah, Soldier Boy.” Edgar sat at his desk, a surprised yet, at the same time, unsurprised look in his eyes. “Or should I say Ben?”

Ben's jaw ticked as he stared at Edgar. Just being in that man's presence was annoying, just like it was back in ‘84. Fuckin’ corporate douchebags. Now, Edgar was Vought, back then he was more of a handler or whatever the fuck.

“I'm here to… get some of what I deserve.” He said truthfully, eyes narrowed and cold as he stared at Edgar.

Every single last person involved with Ben's disappearance was dead. Either killed by him or dead due to old age. Everyone except for Mr. Vought himself.

Edgar chuckled softly. “I'm sure you are.” He glanced off to the side of his desk.

“You think you gonna pop my head open? Fat chance.” Ben chuckled softly. A flash of fear finally showed in Edgar's eyes. It felt good to see that. “Don't worry, she's being taken care of real nice.” He winked, a sinister smile on his face.

Being with Amber had been a rollercoaster. He nearly envied her abilities. Her resilience. Her need to help him. And she did help him.

Except, he was the only Supe that could take away a Supe’s powers with a single blast. Rendering him nearly invincible, which went to his head a little. He was a clear threat to Vought and everything it was about. It wasn't about promoting the safety and happiness and prosperity of others, it was about dominating ideals. The company made money simply off of the public thinking it needed Supes.

Ben had known that forever. He was the first Supe after all.

“Your girlfriend will not survive if you so much as touch a hair on her head.” Edgar stood abruptly.

Ben cocked an eyebrow at Edgar, impressed that the man thought anyone had a chance against Amber. “What makes you think you could touch her?” He took a step forward, setting his palms on Edgar's desk. “Better yet, what makes you think you'll be stepping outside this room alive to see your daughter again? Hm? After the shit you've done to me? Fuck no.”

In a building nearby, Eden, Amber, and most of the Boys were camped out and listening in on Ben and Edgar’s conversation. After Ben finished his words, Amber cut the sound.

Butched glanced at her, confused. “What in the Sam-Hell?”

“Do you want to hear a man getting his guts torn from his body?” Amber countered with a cock of her eyebrow. Hughie cringed at the thought and shook his head. Butcher just shrugged. “That's what I thought.”

Eden sat back in her swivel chair and hummed a little. “I mean, he's definitely getting what he deserves.”

“But what's the plan after this? Killing the CEO won't change much. You didn't really fill us in.” Annie looked at Butcher and Amber. Out of everyone in the Boys, she was the most morally good one, meaning killing someone—as bad as they might be—wasn’t something that pleased her in the slightest.

Eden glanced at Amber, who answered, “Eden will hack everything off of Vought’s servers and hand it over to the proper authorities—namely Grace Mallory.”

“Hey! Douchebags! How the hell am I supposed to use this thing?” Ben's voice filtered back into the room. He glanced over at the decimated heap that was once Stan Edgar. He didn't seem so scary after pounded into a bag of flesh and blood.

He shook his head, that didn't matter at the moment. What mattered was finding the right hole for this… what did Eden call it? Hacking stick? Amber called it something else… USB stick! That's what it was.

“Look at the edge of the computer screen for a rectangular hole and put it in.” Eden explained.

Amber let out a small laugh, “That sounded horrible.”

Ben gripped the monitor, jerking it to the side to see the different ports. He jammed the USB into one of them and pursed his lips. Something was definitely happening. “What now?”

“You see that loading bar?” Eden asked. He made a noise of recognition at the blue bar that was slowly filling. “Wait until it's 100% complete, it should only take a few minutes.”

Ben hummed a little as he watched it. Then he realized he had a fuck ton of blood on his hands, some even on his face as he could partly see his reflection in the monitor. He wiped at his face, smearing a little of the blood. Thankfully, he caught a few napkins at the side of the desk and wiped his face and hands quickly.

Once the bar was full, it completely disappeared. He was still incredibly confused as to how modern technology worked but, if Amber trusted Eden, he would too. “Everything good?” He asked as he grabbed the USB back from its port.

“More than good, mate.” Butcher answered this time, a smug air to his voice.

“Now, get the fuck outta there.” Amber ordered before her voice softened, “Please?”

Ben pocketed the USB and left the office, not minding how an assistant or something would probably find Edgar's body. A lot of people who worked at Vought were bad people, maybe they weren't when they first joined, but they would eventually become similar to Edgar. Horrible for the sake of glory and profit. Ben knew he was like that once too.

Once.

He could still feel his sins crawling on his back but, god, he was trying. Trying to be good. For Amber. For himself, too.

———

Weeks have passed since Vought's downfall and subsequently, many more laws have been passed to monitor Supes. They were on their own now, no company trying to cover up any wrongdoing or casualties. It felt… better. And scarier for a lot of Supes who decided to fuck around for so long. Now, they were going to find out what happened when they were so careless. Consequences. Like they deserved.

Seeing as the Soldier Boy was part of Vought's downfall garnered a lot of attention. A lot of people wanting to know more, asking questions.

Once things started to settle down, that's when Mallory advised to answer questions. But she also wanted Amber to be there too… just to wrangle him in case he said too much. Amber wasn't exactly sure why, Ben had media training all the way back in the fifties, maybe even earlier than that.

“So, Soldier Boy!” A reporter called out to him. “You represent good-ole American Family values, what do you think of America nowadays?”

Ben cocked an eyebrow at the question and plastered a smile on his face. “Well, it's certainly different. I mean, I didn't know what GPS was until a few months ago. Or who Cardi B was.” He forced a chuckle.

“But what do you think about the state of America? The gay trend?” The reporter pried further.

Ben took a few moments to keep from answering, looking at the reporter with a blank stare. Years ago, he probably would've said some ignorant shit but not today. Especially since he could hear the ringing of a bell in his head. “Well, I think gay people, whether it's a trend or not, should be treated fairly under the law as all people should. Y'know, life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness and all that shit.”

“Is that what you really think?” The other man kept trying to get some sort of reaction out of Ben.

So he let him get what he wanted. The bell rang louder. Ben grabbed the voice recorder and spoke into it directly. “My girlfriend has a dick and I like it in my mouth, so yes I believe queer people should be allowed all the fuckin’ freedoms non-queer people do.” His smile was poisonous as he looked at the reporter. He pushed the recorder back into his hands and walked away.

Half the time, Ben wondered why he even bothered with all this. The media and all the shit it came with, but he did sign up for those Vought trials. And it worked. Worked so well he was practically invincible.

“Do you really like my dick in your mouth?” Amber's arms were crossed, he was leaning against the wall as Ben walked to the back of the building.

Ben glanced to the side before he pulled Amber close and kissed her deeply. She immediately wrapped her arms around his waist while he buried a hand in her hair, messing it up in his favorite ways. Amber always found a way to take over him, even if it was an action he started. He was slammed against the wall as Amber deepened the kiss more, his breath knocked out of his lungs for a moment.

He pushed Amber away slightly. He knew what he looked like. Pathetic. With flushed cheeks, pleading eyes, and red lips. “Does that answer your question?” He breathed.

Amber let out an amused noise and raised an eyebrow at him. “Sure.” She paused, then took a breath, “I'm proud of you for not completely losing your cool there.” She whispered.

“Yeah, well, that motherfucker deserved worse.” Ben grumbled.

Amber shrugged and nodded with a light laugh. “Yeah, probably. But it wouldn't look good for you.” She pointed out softly. “Even if it would be satisfying.”

It was weird to think about just how much Ben had changed because of Amber. Emotionally, he was more open, though he was still working on that with people who weren't Amber. He didn't resort to violence as much, although there were some exceptions. Like Edgar. Not to mention, his ideals have changed. He didn't focus so much on himself anymore but started to care about others and the things that meant the world to them too.

“C'mon, Eden is making spaghetti and meatballs to celebrate.” Amber gave Ben a light smile, lowering a hand to hold his.

Ben simply nodded and followed her to the car.

———

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