bakerstreet | (no subject)

(no subject)

.genderswitch meme.

How did this happen? One moment you were fine and the next, you're in a body that feels different and yet strangely familiar all the same. You have similar characteristics, all the same old birthmarks and scars, yet everything else is different. How will you handle your new plumbing? Will you have fun with it or hide off? Is it permanent or will it eventually wear off?

♥ post your character, series, and preferences here. Original thread starter rolls for length of gender switch (1-5 for non-smutty options or 1-6 for smut.), roll right from the start or wait for each individual thread. if you want, post a picture of what your character looks like as a girl/guy or post with gender switched icons.
♥ others go to random.org and roll 1-4 for a scene type, then 1-10 for a scenario.
♥ be nice and respect other people's wishes!

.scenarios.

1. angsty
1. attacked -
You were attacked and hurt. Physically, emotionally, sexually. Maybe all three. Who saved you? Or have you told anyone?
2. injury/sickness -
You're down with a flu or other injury and must be taken care of.
3. mistaken identity -
No one realizes or believes you're you. You've been shunned and turned away.
4. depression -
The change has you or your loved one depressed beyond belief. Can you move past it?
5. paranoia -
You're paranoid of everything and everyone around you, thinking it's only a matter of time until you're betrayed or hurt.
6. jealousy -
Your loved ones don't care about you anymore or look at you the same. Maybe they're more focused on everyone else... or maybe it's all in your head.
7. betrayed -
You're like this because the one you trusted most betrayed you. Can you forgive them? Do you even try?
8. slave -
You've been changed and enslaved. Will anyone ever come help you? Can you break loose yourself?
9. break up -
Your lover doesn't feel the same for you since the change, unfortunately... Or maybe you can't saddle them with this.
10. other -
Missed something? Want to combine something?

2. romantic
1. cuddling -
It's just one of those days where you feel like you just want to cuddle up and be close.
2. comfort -
You're more in for a little TLR and it's time to indulge in comforting each other the only ways you know how.
3. pillow talk -
You've just made love in your new body... was it bad? Was it good? Maybe you should tell your lover! Or just enjoy the afterglow with them.
4. date -
It's time for a date!
5. gift -
A gift just because or for some special occasion, you've gone out of your way to select something meaningful.
6. reassurance -
You're the same as ever and your lover wants to reassure you that's the way they see you.
7. make up -
Fight? Break up? You two can work it out because you want to be together!
8. proposal -
Maybe it's time for that step in your relationship.
9. confession -
They've always loved you or you've always loved them and it's time for it to come out in the open.
10. other -
Missed something? want to combine something?

3. other
1. fight -
You're stuck in some final fight with an impressive foe or the one who put you in this situation.
2. that time... -
It's time! For your first period... or your first erection. Have fun dealing with that.
3. confession -
You have something to confess and it's so much easier to do now that the other person might not recognize you any more...
4. shopping -
That new body doesn't look so great in your new clothes....
5. dreams -
You're stuck in a dream with someone else... how do you deal with it?
6. revenge -
Now that you've got a brand new body, you can get that revenge you've always wanted.
7. adjustment -
You've got a lot to adjust to all of a sudden. How are you dealing?
8. peace -
With a new body, you're free to adapt to a whole new identity and live however you want.
9. stranger -
How do you adjust to being a stranger to everyone you know? Even to yourself on occasion...
10. other -
Missed something? Want to combine something?

4. sexy
1. romantic -
You've planned out a highly romantic night.
2. dub-con -
They're not entirely sure, but you're going to take what you want anyway.
3. non-con -
Maybe they said no, but their body clearly said yes.
4. first time -
It's your first time in this body... are you nervous? Is it awkward?
5. toys -
Hey, they make a lot of neat toys you've never got to try out!
6. lingerie -
They also make a lot of sexy lingerie...
7. hook up -
You've got a new body and you can have some random hook up with someone you've never met before... or someone you know who doesn't know you.
8. roleplay -
You could actually do some wonderful roleplay considering you've got an entirely different body...
9. rough -
rough or angry sex. You want to prove you can give it as good as you did in your old body.
10. other -
Missed something? Want to combine something?

.length.
24 hours
a week
a month
a year
forever
until orgasm

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

[ yes please yes please, i'm down for all prompts, castmate pref for smut. ]

Both swapped?

I have a male Dean journal as well if you prefer that but I thought it might be fun to try this. Thoughts?

Sure thing! Whichever you prefer is fine by me.

[ ooc: Let me know if this works. I can always rewrite it if you want to do an AU instead of a curse thing. ]

[ It's not that Dean didn't like working with Cas around on cases. Having an angel around is always useful, like doing a high wire act with a safety net for a change. And Cas might not always know what the hell he was doing or go about things in the best way, but at least he listened when Dean told him to do something and didn't give him a hard time. Dean loved his brother, but Sam could be a real pain in his ass, and some time apart was good for both of them. Working with Cas while Sam stayed back at the bunker on support? It was a nice change.

Not to mention dragging Sam to a bar these days was like pulling teeth. Getting Cas to hang out and drink with him was child's play. Which is how they wound up here, in a dive bar off route 50 on the Colorado/Utah line. The case was another 200 miles west, but it was after midnight when they'd rolled into this glorified truck stop of a highway town, agreed to grab a motel and enjoy the local color before hitting the road again the next morning. It was just some weird occurrences they were headed towards anyway, the case in Pueblo. Not like it was violent. People weren't dying. In fact, people were coming into "lucky circumstances," according to the rumors, so it didn't seem to Dean like they had to rush. If this was another one of those wishing well things, Dean wasn't looking forward to walking into that. But hey, maybe they'll get lucky themselves this time. (Yeah, right.)

By the time Dean gets asked to leave the bar, it's a little after two AM, and he's leaning heavily on Cas, warm all over despite the biting cold desert air. He doesn't need to lean on Cas. He could walk just fine. But he wants to, and he's drunk enough that it seems like a good idea. A good excuse to do it, anyway. ]

This's a good time.

[ He tells Cas with a slap on Cas's shoulder, stumbling a step from the movement and almost taking them both down. ]

I'm glad you're here, man. I'm glad we're both here. It's good to be alive.

[ Dean's trashed and he knows it, but at least he's enjoying himself. They've got an extra fifty dollars in their pockets after he drank a guy twice his size under the table (Seriously, this dude was a mountain. Hit the floor like one, too.) and he's got a new watch from a game of darts, because even drunk, he's still got some kind of aim. The bartender only kicked him out because the owner of the watch and his trucker buddies were getting restless. And the motel's not far. ]

[ it feels nice, to do something. even better, it feels nice to be included. things have been so difficult lately, curses and marks and spells and war, castiel has had little enough down time. and sure, the threat of the darkness looms over all of their heads, but the world has been quiet, and they have been turning over rocks nonstop to no avail, so this is the closest thing to 'quiet time' they've had in a long time.

and to be honest? castiel is glad for it. it feels selfish, to think that he's enjoying this time with sam and dean for what it is when by all accounts he should be worrying about the darkness, he should be working harder to track it down, to learn more about it. perhaps it is selfish. but his time in the bunker, healing up and resting, helping sam and dean with cases long-distance, has been.. nice. very nice. and now that he's healthy enough to ride out on his own? it's even better. the other shoe is sure to drop sooner rather than later, but for now he'll enjoy chasing a case, feeling productive, even in small ways. and it's a shame that sam isn't with them, but it's nice to be alone with dean for once, as well. it's been a long time.

so with dean's arm heavy on his shoulders he can't help but smile. he hasn't had nearly enough to drink to qualify as drunk, but there's a pleasant warmth and buzz in his ears, and dean smells like leather and beer, he's laughing, and for the first time in a very long time, everything just feels right.

until it doesn't.

castiel stops short, a strange feeling in his belly twists, and spreads quickly through his body. something tickles the back of his neck, and his clothing feels heavy and slack and ill-fitting in all the strangest places. ]

Dean. I feel strange.

Cas, you are strange.

[ Dean answers automatically, drunkenly, without looking. And he's gone, like... really "in a good place" gone, but he's too in-tuned with supernatural bullshit not to notice that Cas's shoulders are feeling slimmer, the long hair brushing over his arm, the gradual upwards hitch of Cas's voice as he speaks.

Deans stops them both dead, pulls away enough to have a hand on Cas's closer shoulder and hold him at arm's length as he gets a good look at him. ...at her. And just like that, there's no more swaying or smiles, and Dean's instantly sober, like a bucket of ice water's been dropped over his head.

Cas is hot.

This is a problem. ]

Aw, crap.

[ Dean surmises eloquently, and then he looks around. There's no sign of anyone, of anything who might've done this. Maybe a witch slipped a hex bag in his (her) pocket or something, or maybe it's an angel-vessel thing. But they can figure it out later. It's 2 am in an empty parking lot of a dive bar out in the middle of freaking no where, and Dean wants four walls around him like yesterday. He drags Cas by the arm with him back towards the motel in long, hurried steps. ]

Come on. Inside. Right now.

[ And once they're inside, the door shut and locked behind them, Dean looks at Cas, up and down, the suit and trench coat all but falling off of her, and that is a waste of a good body. She should be in something tight, and cute. And short skirt, low-cut shirt. ...It takes Dean's brain a minute to slap itself and remember that this is Cas and he feels a little sick. Seriously, what the hell? Dean wipes a hand over his mouth, still wide-eyed. ]

Alright. We're not going to freak out about this. [ Except that Dean is definitely, completely freaked out. ] Do you remember anybody touching you? Anything slipped in your pockets? Anybody whispering in latin or dropping something in your drink?

[ But even as he's asking, Dean can't help blaming himself. Cas doesn't know to look for this stuff. He's a freaking angel. Angels don't get roofied. Dean should've been looking out for him, paying attention. Instead he got shitfaced, and now... Now look at Cas.

Seriously, he can't stop looking at Cas. This is bad. ]

[ it's difficult to keep up in these now too-big shoes, and more than once castiel trips over her own two feet as dean tugs her roughly by the arm, but she isn't complaining - but she definitely has to keep her free hand on her belt because these pants are absolutely going to fall down if she doesn't.

but they're inside now, and dean is saying not to freak out while he is definitely freaking out, but castiel is entirely nonplussed. she looks down at her hands, smaller and feminine, at the dark hair rolling over her shoulders in waves, and she opens her trench coat and blazer to get a good long look down her front. bras suddenly make sense now. ]

No, I don't remember anything.

[ nothing beyond the usual. beer, and music, and drunk truckers, and darts. castiel turns away from dean and leans toward the window behind them, examining her reflection, pushing at her face with her fingers like it's something new and strange, because it is. same dark hair and blue eyes but it's all softer, no stubble, her features smooth. her vessel is now female. why? for what purpose? it's ultimately nothing terrible, but why would anyone bother? she frowns at her reflection one last time before straightening up and turning around again to face dean, who still looks like he's losing his mind. castiel absolutely doesn't understand. ]

Dean. Dean. It's all right. I'm not hurt.

[ Dean watches Cas as she turns around, leans over a little, pushes cute little fingers up against her cute little face. He doesn't just watch Cas, he watches Cas, and that trench coat leaves a lot to be desired, and Dean's already thinking up excuses to take her to a Victoria's Secret, and what she'll look like when those stupid clothes are scatted around the room and he's falling on top of her into one of those beds.

Dean swallows hard and the words come bursting out of him. ]

You're a chick. [ Not that there's... anything wrong with being a girl. Dean gestures stiffly. ] Cas, look at you! You're not hurt, but you're... [ He closes his mouth, stares hard, and opens his mouth again. ] This isn't a little weird to you?

[ And he... she... doesn't remember anything happening at the bar, which means they've got no leads to go on, and no place to start. Maybe this has to do with that Pueblo crap, but what's it doing out here, more than 100 miles away? And why just Cas? And why a girl?

Dean's way too drunk for this, but the thought of putting it off until morning... Sleeping in a room with... They need to fix this now. ]

[ castiel is staring blankly up at dean with guileless blue eyes, trying to understand what's got him so riled - sure, this is some kind of curse or spell, but she seems to be in no immediate danger, and dean is usually much more cool under pressure than this. it's almost comical.

sex and gender identity, he supposes, are very important to human beings, which is the only reason she can find to explain why dean's dancing around like he's walking on hot coals. but castiel is an angel, sexless by design, and the nuance of it is really lost on her. it's not at all uncommon for angels to hop between male and female vessels, if their own is harmed in some way, or for the sake of convenience. ]

No, not at all. [ she says, frowning, with dark brows furrowed. ] My clothing is uncomfortable. But a vessel is a vessel. Should I be worried?

[ is there some weird drawback she's not considering?? ]

No. No, you're good.

[ Vessels. Right. Of course, that's why Cas doesn't see the problem here. Raphael did it too, right? Demons do it all the time. Just... hop from one meat suit to another like it's nothing. Whatever's convenient. No big deal.

For Cas, maybe, and all the rest of them. But if Dean suddenly lost his junk and gained some jugs, he wouldn't not be handling it as well as Cas is. It's bad enough to watch it from this end. Dean lifts, still a little wide-eyed and sweating, like a man who just dodged a bullet. ]

Better you than me, pal.

[ Dean manages to peel his eyes away from her for two seconds long enough to shrug out of his jacket, drop his gun on the bedside table, and go to get a glass of water. Around the time he's coming back and sitting down on the edge of one bed, a kind of sick thought goes through his head, that he'll blame on the alcohol later. Cas is cool with it. She's hot. What if they didn't fix this curse? What if she just stayed this way? Dean licks his lips and rubs his eyes, trying to forget about it. No, whatever this is, it's bad. Magic is never good, and whatever side effects come with it, whoever did it and why... They need to be stopped. ]

Just don't get too comfortable. This is temporary. Tomorrow morning, we start hunting whatever did this to you and we get you fixed, pronto.

[ He doesn't sound at all like it's Cas that he's trying to convince. ]

[ dean seems to be.. coming to terms with it, which is odd, considering he shouldn't need to come to terms with it at all, as far as castiel is concerned. she's heard the stories of varied hexes and funny spells - all about the time dean became a teenager, and a dog, when sam swapped bodies with a teenage boy. isn't this just another drop in the bucket?

but then it starts to itch, in the back of her mind, like when you can't stop tonguing a wound in your mouth. castiel's eyes narrow, her head tilting, birdlike, to the side. ]

Am I making you uncomfortable, Dean?

[ of course. how had she not considered it? that dean is a shameless skirt chaser is a secret to pretty much no one, and castiel supposes that this vessel is now as attractive to dean as any other young female might be - he's never known dean to really have any terribly strict standards. she looks down at herself again, all rumpled clothes, ill-fitting, not at all sexually enticing, and thinks no, that can't be it. she couldn't be any less alluring in a burlap sack. castiel steps out of her too-big shoes before crossing the room to sit beside dean, staring curiously at his profile. ]

Would you prefer that I find somewhere else to spend the night? I can sit in the car, if you prefer.

[ Look, the being a kid, and a dog, and an old man, and all that stuff? It sucked. And it was weird. It's not normal, and neither is this, as far as Dean's concerned. So yes, it's making him uncomfortable. And stepping out of those shoes, with her cute little barefoot feet like it's the morning after or something, and sitting down next to him on the bed? Not helping. Dean shifts on the bed immediately, sitting up just enough to sit back down a few inches further away, and get some space between them. He chances a glance up at Cas's face and... Goddamn it, she's so damn cute. She doesn't even need makeup or anything, or hairspray or whatever. Her eyes are just... and her lips are full and pink and...

Dean stands up like he's been bitten in the ass by something, and crosses the room headed nowhere in particular. ]

Yes, Cas, you're making me uncomfortable.

[ He runs a hand through his hair and tries to think about the best way to explain this to Cas when she springs that bright idea on him. Spend the night in the Impala? Seriously? He whips around again, staring down at her hard. ]

Are you kidding? You're gonna go sit the night out in a motel parking lot, in the middle of nowheresville, Utah, looking like that?

[ Dean laughs, but there's no humor in it. He shakes his head and doesn't blink, and for the first time probably since the change, his eyes are just on Cas's eyes and not the rest of her. ]

Oh no. I don't think so. You're staying right here.

[ dean's off the bed like a shot out of a cannon, and castiel might laugh were she not so shocked; as it stands, she only stares at dean in surprise, eyes wide, jaw slack. but she recovers quickly, and clears her throat. this is certainly.. awkward, isn't it? is it really that terribly difficult for dean to be in close proximity with a woman? what sort of wild libido is he cursed with? female vessel, perhaps, but she's still castiel. ]

Dean. [ she warns, irritation in her expression as she stands again, shoulders squared. ] I'm an angel. I'm not afraid of a handful of drunk truck drivers.

[ the nerve. it's not as if she's any less formidable like this, and while dean's concern is.. okay, it's a little touching -- she's not about to be made a fool of. is this how all women feel? she's been female for all of fifteen minutes and already the one single man in her life has become an aggravation. like it or not, she takes several steps toward dean, finger pointed in accusation. ]

I'm perfectly capable of defending myself, and besides, you can't seem to handle being within ten feet of me without jumping out of your skin.

[ get a hold of yourself, dean winchester!! ]

Woah, hey, you're blaming this on me?

[ Dean balks. Because seriously, look at her. She's barefoot and in a tie and a goddamned trench coat. Truckers aren't going to care that she's an angel. They won't freaking know that until they're on top of her, asking her if she needs a lift. It's not that he doesn't trust Cas... He just doesn't trust anybody else. And he knows men. He knows himself. If he came out of that bar drunk, stumbling up to a '67 Impala at 4 in the morning, and found a chick looking like her sitting in it... You better believe he'd have something to say to her. He wouldn't back off until he'd bought her a room at least, whether he was sharing it with her or not. And that Cas doesn't get that? Even more reason for Dean to keep an eye on her. Since he did such a damn great job of keeping an eye on Cas as it is, and what got them into this whole freaking mess.

And anyway, the problem's not that she's a girl. It's that she's Cas. If she were just some chick, Dean would be all easy smiles and engaging conversation as he wined and dined her right into bed. But this isn't just some girl, this is Cas. He can't wine and dine Cas. His best friend isn't going to be a one night stand. This is a goddamned nightmare.

Dean sighs and drops his head, hands spread in appeasement. ]

Look. We're cool, okay? You just... [ He looks up again, and there's something pleading in his eyes. ] I'm gonna take a shower.

[ Never mind the fact that it's 2 AM and that Dean is still mostly drunk. He needs his half hour of alone time, and he needs it now, not later. ]

Then I'm going to bed. And you... read the bible or something until I wake up, and then seven AM, we're up and figuring out how to fix this. Alright? Can you do that for me, Cas?

Of course I'm not blaming it on you.

[ dean, she thinks, is sometimes allergic to listening. what's happened here.. it's the fault of whoever's done it, not dean's, or his, but that doesn't mean he can't handle a few handsy truckers. angel, remember? what truckers think won't matter when she knocks them right onto the pavement with a solid punch to the jaw.

but she knows dean, she knows those eyes, and she knows when he's digging his heels in, when it's not worth arguing. so she relents, as she always does, her shoulders softening, her exhale a sigh. ]

Yes, Dean, I can do that.

[ even though it's silly. even though she can very easily get another room, or stay in the impala without whatever incident dean seems to be expecting. it's for his comfort that she had offered in the first place, but if he wants to be bullheaded, then so be it. castiel lifts her hands in surrender, palm out.

and she keeps her word, of course. while dean is showering she stands in the room, lost and mildly confused, before she finally thinks to shuck off her too-big coat and hang it neatly on the back of a chair - and the tie, too, for good measure. this familiar clothing has become so uncomfortable. she untucks her shirt from her slacks and slips off and rolls up her belt and then sits at the end of the bed with one leg tucked up beneath her, and her hands folded neatly in her lap, staring thoughtfully out of the hotel window as it starts to rain. ]

[ The shower helps, Dean thinks. It helps a lot. And while normally, he'd walk out in a towel and get dressed in the room where it's cooler and open, he spends a little extra time in the bathroom instead, gets dressed while his skin's still sticky and his shirt clings to him uncomfortably, but whatever. Worth it, to avoid tempting fate.

Dean's not really sure what he expected when he comes back out into the room. To see Cas in the trench, sitting and reading over the desk, probably. He doesn't expect to see her without the coat, sitting on the bed and staring out the window, like she's expecting somebody. And Dean stops dead in his tracks, watching her. She's really beautiful. In the oversized men's clothes, hair a mess like it always is, with the blue light of the street outside washed in rain coming in dappled through the window. She's like a painting, or a statue. She's a work of art.

Not that Cas isn't always good looking. He's just... He's Cas. And it's hard for Dean's brain to parse that this girl, this... really attractive girl, is Cas. And when it does figure it out, it should shut him right down, turn him cold, but somehow remembering that she's Cas only turns up the heat, makes his lungs feel tight.

He's really goddamn drunk.

Dean clears his throat as he pushes the thoughts away, and he walks over to the opposite bed. ]

Good night, Cas.

[ He says, checks his gun and slides it under the pillow as he falls onto the covers, still fully clothed, not bothering to get underneath. He probably could. Cas is an angel. It's like sleeping with a doberman next to your bed. Better. But old habits die hard. Dean closes his eyes and forces himself to think about the road, and a steering wheel under his hands, and the cooler in the back, and anything but what Cas would look like, like this, in that trench with nothing underneath. ]

[ unfortunately for dean, tracking down the source of the spell was not so easy as he might have hoped. a thorough search of the bar and questioning of its patrons turned up nothing, so they had followed the next best guess, the odd case in pueblo that had started them on this track to begin with - it was the closest line to follow, and many of the effects people suffered in the town were of a similar strain to whatever seems to have affected castiel. odd physical changes, bizarre but comical accidents. it took days for them to track the source down to a music box, cursed by an old, long dead witch - they'd taken care of the item, salted and burned the bones of the old witch just to be sure, and been done with it; everyone who had been affected had returned to their normal state.

everyone except castiel.

it had chafed dean, who's been on edge since this entire debacle began, and dean's behavior has slowly but surely been working its way under her skin, trying her patience more and more every day. he's been tense and distant, he hardly even looks at her, and trying to hold any sort of meaningful conversation has been like holding wet soap - even for dean, he's been closed off, and irritable. it's trying. for all intents and purposes, castiel is perfectly healthy, perfectly normal, entirely unaffected by these physical changes, and she can't for the life of her understand why dean can't simply get over it. this trip together was meant to be enjoyable, not stiff and awkward and aggravating.

once it became clear that solving the case in pueblo had gotten them nowhere, they'd had no choice but to return to the original bar, one week later, with little enough to show for their efforts. but with no clear deadline ahead, castiel has insisted on at least getting new clothing - working through the case while trying to hold her own pants up had been an actual disaster, not to mention the looks they'd gotten. castiel hadn't minded, but dean didn't appreciate it, and it was difficult to fool police who can't take you seriously.

so here they are now, in a brightly lit macy's, and castiel is staring down a line of sweaters as if they might bite her. ]

Dean.. what should I wear?

[ this had seemed to easy, in theory.. ]

[ He'd been so damn sure of that music box. Dean kept telling himself, "end of this case, things will be back to normal. You can do it. Just a few more hours." They'd salted and burned the thing and Dean had hooted and hollered over the corpse like he was at a football game on the home turf. He was so damn sure about it.

It's been a full week since then, and Dean can't take it any more. He's done. He's checked out. He's not even looking at the clothes. His eyes are up and glassy, staring at the escalators in the distance. Sammy's going to laugh. That's all he can think. They're going to walk back in the bunker like this, and Sam's going to have this goddamned smug expression on his face, and Dean's going to go to his room and put his headphones on and live in there for a few days like a freaking teenager because this sucks. And he's ready for somebody out there to fix it already and put him out of his misery, but there's nothing coming. Knowing his luck, it'll take another month of research before the three of them figure it out. ]

Whatever you want, Cas.

[ Dean answers, voice flat, and to the passerbys, there's no doubt in their minds that he's the unwilling boyfriend who's been pulled along on this autumn shopping trip, even though he was the one who dragged Cas here. Because if he brought Cas back to the bunker like this, wearing the same trench coat and oversized slacks he has been for a week and shoes she can barely walk in, then he'd really never hear the end of it from Sam.

But he's done. Cas needs to just buy something and put it on, and they need to get on the road before he really snaps. ]

[ whatever you want, dean says, and that's practically a death sentence in her ears, as far as castiel is concerned. but of course dean's going to be juvenile about this, like he's been juvenile about everything else all week, most especially when he's the one who brought castiel here to begin with. her jaw tightens, but she breathes it out. just.. breathes it out. remember, castiel, that you love this man. resist the temptation to strangle him with a soccer jersey. ]

Fine, Dean.

[ she exhales hard and steps into the racks with no idea what she's looking for. she's gone clothing shopping what.. once? ever? stealing from a laundromat doesn't really count, and everything he'd worn as a human he'd just picked up here and there. not to mention, men's clothing seems so much.. simpler. but just find something comfortable, right? nothing too tricky. nothing too overwhelming.

so she tugs the nearest sweater off of the rack and holds it out in front of her, squinting. it's.. practical, right? and looks warm. ]

Do I need to.. try it on?

[ please dean get your head out of your ass and help your best friend here she seriously needs it. ]

[ Really, Dean should've seen this coming. This is Cas, after all. Cas who became human and decided wearing a hoodie, a button up shirt and freaking cargo pants was the kind of look he wanted to parade around in so... yeah. Dean really should've called this out straight out of the gate. But somehow he didn't, distracted in his own painful misery of a perpetual hard-on for his (formerly male) best friend. So when he finally strts paying attention long enough to see what Cas as picked, he's genuinely, stupidly surprised about it. ]

That? That's what you're going with.

[ Dean doesn't just roll his eyes; he rolls his whole head, and shoulders, right up to the point where he's walking over to Cas pulling the hanger out of her hand, and putting it back at random on the closest rack. He whines. ]

Come on, Cas.

[ And then he looks at her hard, like it should be obvious. And then he throws back his head like he's praying, but there is no god, and the dude he usually prays to is right next to him, and no longer a dude, and somehow gaining everything else a woman has still didn't net Cas a sense of fashion. No one can help Dean. His life is a damn circus act. He sighs and looks around, and eventually spots a mannequin a few aisles over that doesn't look bad. ]

Look. You just look at what one of them has got, and you pick it out.

[ He looks at Cas, but he knows this is just the beginning of all the questions to come. So rather than dragging his feet about it, Dean just heads in that direction. ]

Okay. Let's do this.

[ He says, and starts doing it himself. He picks out a blouse, a sweater, and a skirt, holding each one up to Cas and eyeballing the size. A pair of tights, pair of socks. Boots (Girl boots, but not heels. He's not even going to touch that.), which he makes Cas sit down for, and slips a couple sizes on her feet until they find a pair that fits. He leads her to the dressing room, gets her set up with the older woman working as staff. She smiles at Dean and pats his arm, and he smiles in a way that's overly wide and obviously forced before ushering Cas in.

It's not until the door's shut that Dean realizes something. Underwear. There's no way Cas, male Cas, was wearing panties under those slacks. And she can't wear boxers or... man briefs under a skirt. It's against Dean's code as a man to allow something like that. After running some serious mental circles, Dean finally calls through the door. ]

Cas? We're going one more place after this, alright?

[ it's all much easier once dean stops crying into his oatmeal long enough to lend a guy a hand. looking at the mannequins certainly helps, but what dean has picked out in the end is still way better than she could have ever hoped to put together herself. so she follows along, dazed but compliant, and she sits patiently while dean slips boots on and off of her feet (and squints curiously at the two older women who titter at them from behind a rack). ]

Thank you, Dean.

[ she says, sincerely, once he's led her off to the fitting rooms, because sour mood or no sour mood, she appreciates the help. clothes shopping is singularly overwhelming, and dean has been a human for far, far longer than she has been. even if he doesn't wear female clothing.

at any rate, it's a little more difficult to get into these clothes than she might have expected. it's a lot of layers, and he has to trial and error a few things before she has it right (she thinks), also stuffing boxer shorts under tights is.. uncomfortable, but she manages. she's all but finished by the time dean calls through the door, so instead of answering she just opens the door, fully dressed, if a little rumpled, still hopping into one boot. ]

Of course. [ a beat. ] Where?

[ Cas all but falls out of the dressing room, and Dean has to take a few steps back so that he isn't trampled by those new boots. But then he's standing back and looking at her. And Cas in the oversized shirt and coat had been one thing, and the outfit on the mannequin had been another, but seeing Cas in the outfit... She gets Dean staring, eyes wandering up and down, taking it in. It's not a G-string and stripper heels but that's... Dean likes this better, kind of it. A lot, actually, kind of, in a way he doesn't like thinking about.

He swallows and blinks and looks out of the dressing room, in the direction of the nearest cash register before looking back to Cas once the question finally catches back up with him. He grins, shameless. ]

It's a secret. Victoria's secret, actually. You'll see.

[ Everything fits, so Dean gets it all paid for in a swipe of sweet plastic. And then they're heading out of the Macy's and down the hall, Dean's eyes scanning for the telltale hot pink. And after a few stores go by, there it is. ]

God bless the malls of America.

[ He winks at Cas and heads inside, and the crap mood he's been in all week is gone, just like that. He's like a kid in a candy store, eyeing up the mannequins, looking between the displays and Cas the way a dog watches a piece of meat go from the stove to the plate. His voice is even rough, hungry-sounding, when he thinks to use it. ]

See anything you like?

[ Dean asks Cas because honestly? He likes everything. And he could pick something out for Cas, but it wouldn't just be one of anything, and unlike Macy's, there's nothing in this store that ain't good. ]

[ the way dean is looking at her once she stumbles out of the dressing room makes her feel like she's finally done something right, after a long week of wrongs, and something warm flutters in her belly. it's about time he loosens up a little.

she has to pull all of the tags off of her clothes in order for dean to pay for them at the counter; your boyfriend's so sweet! is it your birthday?, the cashier asks - no, i do not know my day of birth, it was a very long time ago, and dean has to usher her quickly away from the counter while she stuffs her old clothing into the shopping bag meant for her new things.

and then they're off again, and dean seems comfortable for the first time in over a week, and that feels good, nice, like a weight's been lifted off of her shoulders. they're not on a case, not specifically, but it's good to feel like they're friends again. it's even better, apparently, once they reach this secret store, and dean is grinning like a dog with a bone. ]

It's very.. colorful.

[ she says, eyeing the winged mannequins as if they're demons ready to lunge, because this place is a den of sin. castiel turns toward the nearest table and lifts a lacy thong cut to look like a butterfly, dangling it between her fingers. ]

And insufficient. How is this undergarment meant to achieve anything at all? It doesn't even look comfortable.

[ Alright, so Cas being a girl has its perks. It's still weird when people think they're dating, but at least he gets it now. Because they're a guy and girl shopping together, it makes sense. If Cas was still a guy... Dean wouldn't know where they were getting those ideas from. Or why people kept getting them on pretty much a monthly basis. It's annoying. This? It's not so bad.

And he's got an excuse to go into places like these, and play with panties like Cas is, and get labelled as a "dedicated boyfriend" and not "unattached creep" so that's a big plus in the "Cas is a female vessel" column. Dean's busy getting unnecessarily close to the ass of one of those angel mannequins when Cas makes the comment she does, and Dean turns to look. His grin couldn't physically get any wider without some surgical intervention, but it sticks, and Dean raises his eyebrows. ]

Oh, it achieves what it's supposed to, alright. Comfort's got nothing to do with it.

[ He crosses the store, comes up behind Cas and rests his head on her shoulder, his hands catching on her elbows. ]

You should get that one. Get a bunch of them. We don't know how long this is going to last, right? You're probably a...

[ He looks down at the floor while his hands push under her sweater at her waist, feeling the swell of her hips. ]

6. Maybe a 4. It's always better to go a little small.

[ castiel is too busy lifting the stringy thing in her hands and trying to pick apart how the thing even goes on your body when dean slides up behind her and drops his chin onto her shoulder, hands on her elbows.

oh. that's. um. she tenses immediately, her throat constricting and her eyes snapping wide. it's not as if she isn't used to being close to dean. they've been friends for years, and dean is affectionate sometimes, clapping her on the arm, slinging an arm over her shoulder, clasping her neck - it's common, easy, she's familiar with the scent of dean's skin, the roughness of his hands. but this is an entirely different thing, something closer, more intimate. when dean's hands slide under her sweater and against her waist her breath catches, and the thong slips right out of her hands and onto the floor. ]

Um.

[ well that's embarrassing. castiel clears her throat, and immediately ducks to swipe the thong up off of the floor again, blatantly ignoring the warmth creeping into her face as she quickly tosses it back onto the table with the others. ]

Yes. Of course. Four. I'll.. yes, I'll get plenty. Should I try them on, too?

[ is that allowed? help ]

castiel / supernatural

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I don't like what I rolled so I'm going to wing it

thats why rolling is for noobs

wow rude. sometimes it works!!

nah

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