So I Have The Headcannon That The Next Generation Of Hunters, Like Claire's Gen, Hunt In Packs, Rather

“pretty boy :3” i say. to my screen. on which there is a middle aged man deep in despair

Illegal that we didn't get to see Claire and Rowena as a kickass duo

because we need all the softness in our lives, could I ask for slow dancing + ineffable husbands? 🥺

I think we all deserve this, yes

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Crowley—and he would sooner jump head-first into a pool of holy water and then drink it than admit this aloud—is happy. Deliriously happy, in fact. He's topped out the happiness scales and is inventing new shades of happiness as he twirls the stem of his wine glass between his fingers and pretends not to be watching Aziraphale across the table as said angel watches London go by through the rain-streaked bookshop window.

They're okay. They're both okay. The world, too, is okay. They've still got it. They've still got each other. All is right in creation and eternity stretches out in front of them, absolutely bursting with potential. It's the first day—since it is actually three in the morning now—of the rest of their lives.

So they ought to start, Crowley thinks, as he means to go on.

"Angel," he says, something inside him curling up warmly at the way Aziraphale's attention falls on him all at once.

"Mm?"

"You," he says, tapping on the back of Aziraphale's hand. "Owe me something."

"I owe you a great deal," Aziraphale says quietly, looking away.

That won't do. That won't do at all.

Crowley gestures vaguely at the record player, and the first strains of something soft and slow crackle in the air.

He stands, giving himself a moment for the room to stop swaying, and then offers his hand.

Aziraphale looks at it like he's never seen it before.

"Apology dance," Crowley says. "Version two."

Aziraphale continues to stare at his hand, an adorable little line forming between his brows.

"Come on," Crowley beckons with his extended hand. "Do you know how often I've offered to dance with anyone? At all? Once. Just now. You'd be missing out on a genuine historical event if you don't take me up on it."

Aziraphale takes another moment. He's gotten cautious. It'll wear off, Crowley thinks—hopes—sometime between ten seconds and a millennium from now. Give or take.

But that's all right. They've got time. And now he's not wondering anymore. He knows. He's just got to wait.

"C'mere," he tries, promising himself he'll drop it if Aziraphale doesn't take the bait this time.

But he does. Wonderfully, gloriously, he does. His hand slips into Crowley's like it was made just for the purpose. Crowley's fairly sure it was. Not even God could tell him otherwise.

Crowley does not slow dance. Generally speaking, short of emergencies or spectacular drunkenness, he does not dance, full stop.

But it's very easy to draw Aziraphale close. Rest a hand on his waist. Sway aimlessly with him in small, easy steps around the cramped quarters of the bookshop.

"There we go," Crowley speaks up once he's sure they're really doing this. "Think I like this one better."

And then, because he really wants to and he's still feeling very brave and at least a little drunk, he leans close to rest his forehead against Aziraphale's, and smiles. This is also, he thinks, where his head belongs. In the grand scheme of the universe.

"A-apology... accepted, then?" Aziraphale asks.

"Yeah," Crowley says. "Think so."

"G-good. Good. Crowley, I'm so—"

"Shh," Crowley murmurs, twirling Aziraphale away slowly and then pulling him back in. "Forgiven. Forgotten."

Aziraphale makes a noise of disbelief.

That won't do, either.

Slowly, ever so slowly, with all his attention laser-focused on Aziraphale to see if he flinches or pulls away or stiffens at all, Crowley raises a hand to his cheek, and strokes his thumb along the ridge of it.

"Would you forgive me again if I kissed you, angel?"

Aziraphale's breath hitches. The lights flicker. The record skips.

"Since when do you ask permission?" he asks, voice trembling again.

Crowley laughs, low and crackling along with the record player. "I'm not," he says, leaning in close, until there's barely the space for an angel to dance on the head of a pin between them. "I'm begging forgiveness."

And then he closes the distance, soft, tentative, gentle. Six thousand years, give or take, in the making. It feels like every second of it. It feels like every second was worth it, when Aziraphale opens up under him, and—surprise of surprises—darts his tongue out in the world's least practiced attempt at kissing back.

Not, honestly, that Crowley has any more experience. He's just not trying to rush headlong into the complicated stuff.

He pulls back laughing again, giddy with it, and gives Aziraphale another, more enthusiastic twirl under his arm.

"Well?" he asks. He knows the answer. It's written all over Aziraphale's face.

His angel clears his throat. "Well. We may need some practice to get that right."

Crowley breaks into a grin that immediately makes his face hurt. "Just as well we've got forever, then."

okay, I'll bite. IF they really end up making a season 16, this BETTER end up being the biggest fan service ever. They had their shitty ending, now it's our turn. I'm talking body swap episode, human impala episode, gender swap curse episode, beach episode, jack and claire hunting together episode, freaky monster in the woods filler episode, "boring" old school haunted house case filler episode just for the sake of it like in the early seasons, which, speaking of, early seasons set design and color palette and lighting. I'm talking a season 5 level of back to back unique episodes. guest cameos of dead fan favorites. AND, the most important thing, and this is non-negotiable, full on canon lips on lips destiel. They have a lot to make up for.

crying cuz why do they look like trobed

Bippity boppity baro

You are now aro

Bippity boppity bay

You are now gay

beloved djungelskog...

I love this so much

‘The Profound Bond’ - A new romantic comedy starring Jensen Ackles and Misha Collins. When Federal Agent Dean Winchester gets paired with an angel as part of the Bureau’s new Human-Angel Cooperation Initiative, the partnership seems less than ideal. Castiel is arrogant, painfully inept in the ways of normal human interaction, and less than stellar at routine questioning. But as time passes, the human and angel begin to find themselves growing less at odds and more endeared to each other. Loosely inspired by aesc’s Below Skyscrapers. (Watch on Youtube)

I am not hydrated enough to cry right now...