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dani♥

@lovebirdstiel / lovebirdstiel.tumblr.com

You better take care of me, Lord. If you don't you're gonna have me on your hands.
skylinehorizon on AO3 (slowly, slowly, back to writing fic again.)
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I don’t use this tumblr anymore. Logging in for the first time (in a long time) to delete it, I was surprised to see some people are still reblogging the fic I wrote years ago. For this reason, I’m not going to delete it as most fics are behind read more jump cuts, but this blog is no longer active. 

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(AO3) | Continuation of Best Friends ‘Verse - An Impromptu Confession (Part 8)

Note - Dean is fifteen in this instalment. It’s the ninth part I’ve written, but chronologically comes before ‘By The Lake’. Enjoy!

Summary: Dean shouldn’t be leaving these kinds of magazines lying around, and Sam should really stop sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong. Or, the one where Sam accidentally sees something he shouldn’t, and Dean comes out.

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dean/cas fic - "freebird"

(AO3) (illness cw; character death cw) 

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"We're free," Dean murmurs, hand snaking around the back of Cas' waist, pulling him tight against Dean's chest. "Got all the time in the world, now, babe."

Cas coughs in the cool air and twists around in Dean's grip, so he's looking up at Dean's cocky smile and his vibrant green eyes. Still vibrant, still bright, after everything.

"I'm not sure if free is the right word." 

Dean's smile doesn't falter but something in his eyes shifts and he brings the hand that isn't holding his crutch to rest on the back of Cas' neck. Cas takes a deep breath, as deep as he can, and sinks into the warmth. Dean's always warm, and Cas is always too cold. 

"Sure we are, Cas," he says softly. "There isn't anyone up here telling us what to do. We've got nothing holding us back."

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(AO3) | Continuation of Best Friends 'verse - Cinnamon & Log Fires (Part 6)

Note - Dean and Cas are 14 in this instalment. It's the seventh part I've written but chronologically comes before 'A little bit lost, a little bit loved'. Merry Christmas! 

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The air is very cold, and there are thick grey clouds that threaten snow building up in the sky. The streets are busy with everyone getting their last minute Christmas Eve shopping, and Dean would be grateful if he never has to set foot inside a mall again. Dean bursts through his front door, kicking off his boots in the entrance and pushes them to one side, out of the way. 

The house is warm and smells like cinnamon. Mary is in the kitchen baking and Sam reading a book in the living room, the fire crackling as it burns through the wood. 

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