pipe dream;

he needs me. I don't care if you tell the world.

[clarkegriffins]

Happiness isn’t in the having. It’s in just being. It’s in just saying it.

[emmy4keri]

[domhnllgleeson]

#actually me

[deb-oceans]

[charmedcas]

13.01 coda (ft. deancas feelings)

“Can you tell me about my mother?” Jack asks them, right before taking a drink from his beer bottle. Drinking at age sixteen is one thing, but starting to drink when you’re barely three days old is another. Then again, it’s not like Jack’s going to drink himself to death if getting stuck with an angel blade didn’t leave a mark.

“She was a good woman,” Sam begins. “She wanted the best for you, and whatever she did, it was to protect you. She went off the map just to keep you safe.” Dean nods, remembering Kelly’s determination to keep Jack alive. “Sam and I didn’t know her before she got knocked up with you, but she really cared about you. Hell, she gave up her own life to give you one.” Dean shrugs, pushing away his empty bottle to grab another from the pack. He opens it, purposely avoiding Sam’s eyes. “If that’s not love, then I don’t know what is.” Jack nods slowly, seeming to take the words to heart. “And Castiel?” Jack asks next, lowering the beer bottle from his lips. “What was he like?”

Dean’s throat closes up.

A million words come to mind, but they’re caught in his mouth, and suddenly swallowing is difficult. Sam looks over at him with those sad eyes he seems to always have on lately. “Want me to take this one?”

Dean’s palms are sweaty. He brushes them off on his jeans. “Nah, Sammy, I got it.” But he really doesn’t. Jack turns expectant eyes on him, setting down the bottle on the table. Dean bites the inside of his cheek, trying to figure out where to even begin. How are you supposed to describe the one guy who meant almost everything to you? “He liked PB and J,” is what comes tumbling out of his mouth first. Jack squints his eyes in confusion, and Dean puts his bottle down to mimic putting two slices of bread together. “It’s a type of sandwich.” “He liked sandwiches?” Jack says, still lost. “He liked a lot of stuff. Uh, his fugly old car for one. And tan trenchcoats. And helping people. He also liked giving me the silent treatment whenever either of us fucked up. And oh, how could I forget,” Dean huffs, shaking his head a little, “making bad decisions to save me and Sam, even if it meant getting himself caught in the crossfire.” Whether it was killing Billie, or giving up an army, or choosing to go after Lucifer right up until that last moment, Cas was always there to help them out.  If only the bastard wasn’t so set on sacrificing himself. If only Dean could’ve told him he was meant for more than cleaning up the messes he and Sam made. If only Dean could’ve told him that and so much more. “And,” Dean continues, even though he’s not looking at Jack anymore, instead staring off into space. “He was one of the best people I’ve ever known, angel or human. He made me a better person. Sometimes he would fuck off into another dimension and leave me wondering if he was okay, but he was always there when I needed him most. And he would still be here if I hadn't— ” He cuts off, feeling the prickle in his eyes. If I had left him alone. If I hadn’t been so stupid. It’s all my fault. “You would’ve been lucky to have him as a Dad.” He takes another pull from his bottle, but it feels like something’s stuck in his throat, no matter how much he drinks.  “Are you alright?” Jack asks him, bringing him back to the moment. Jack tilts his head, and for a second, Dean’s reminded of Cas, the way he would squint at Dean like he was an idiot and tilt his head, and Dean’s breath whooshes out of him. And then his head fills with the image of the long looks Cas would throw his way, like he was worth a damn. Or the small smile Cas had on his lips when Dean handed him the mixtape he made. He remembers the feel of Cas’s hands whenever they healed him, time and time again. The way his voice would fall soft when it was just the two of them in the room. He’s left gripping the edge of the table, a whole wave of emotion climbing up his throat at once, and his heart aches like there’s a piece missing. Is this what John felt like when he lost Mom? “Dean, really, are you okay?” Sam questions, since Dean hadn’t answered Jack. But Sam doesn’t need to because they both know he’s not.  “Yeah, I’m good,” he lies, tricking no one. “I think I’m gonna turn in for the night.” He pushes out of his chair, his heart hammering against his chest. “Don’t stay up too late, alright kids?“  "Dean,” Sam repeats, but Dean shakes his head. Not today. He leaves his half empty bottle on the table as he turns away. There’s a bottle of tequila in his room, and it’s calling his name. 

[gentlemanlyrics]

the anchor // bastille

[liaability]

books i read in 2017: aristotle and dante discover the secrets of the universe by benjamin alire sáenz

i wondered what that was like, to hold someone’s hand. i bet you could sometimes find all of the mysteries of the universe in someone’s hand.

[alonesomes]

“I wore your armor just to feel deathless.”

–Patroclus to Achilles, Crybaby by Caitlyn Siehl

[i-heart-scully]

If I quit now, they win. 

[i-heart-scully]

x-files favorite moments: part 7/?

[kansastexas]

DanneelAckles512 Doin it ❤ #mancrushmonday

[jamespottver]

ya lit meme: ten books or series [5/10] ♡ the raven cycle by maggie stiefvater

Humans were so circular; they lived the same slow cycles of joy and misery over and over, never learning. Every lesson in the universe had to be taught billions of times, and it never stuck. Maybe it was good that the world forgot every lesson, every good and bad memory, every triumph and failure, all of it dying with each generation. Perhaps this cultural amnesia spared them all. Perhaps if they remembered everything, hope would die instead.

[hualians]

palmetto state foxes » neil josten ∟ it’s not the world that’s cruel. it’s the people in it.

[slayerbuffy]

oh, brother.

[kettercrows-deactivated20170508]

Adam lived in an apartment located above the office of St. Agnes Catholic Church, a fortuitous combination that focused most of the objects of Ronan’s worship into one downtown block.

[ohneils]

“I,” she said, planting a hand on her hip, “am a delicate flower.” “You aren’t a flower, you’re every blossom in the wood blooming at once.”

[dellalovespeppermints]

“Common sense alone will tell you that these legends, these unverified rumors, are ridiculous.” “But, nonetheless, unverifiable and, therefore, true in the sense that they’re believed to be true.” “Is there anything that you don’t believe in, Mulder?”