Jack and Cas take a few years off of chasing bad guys and run a bar on a backwater moon. Jack sings and provides the entertainment. Cas runs the bar. And people learn very quickly not to fuck with either of them. They take care of their neighborhood and Cas adopts a bar cat. If illicit things occasionally happen in the back room, well they just better not be too awful or there’s gonna be a pissed off angel to deal with. Jack find this hilarious.

jazzforthecaptain:

“He’ll smite you, friend,” Jack smiled at the harasser. He glanced over his shoulder at the angel glowering from the back bar. “I’ve seen it myself. Bits.” One hand encompassed the bar with a wave, “…*Everywhere.* You know what canned soup looks like?”

That wasn’t true – ‘smiting’ resulted in charred meat and smoking eyeholes, and Castiel reserved that maneuver for demons only these days. But Jack liked to embroider his stories, and his tastes ran wet and lurid.

Lol, I love this, merindab. Thank you!