#idek anymore...

[whisperingmylove]

im so depressed rn i cant even fking believe it

[roguedarkness]

Why am I crying? Gah. I hate this..I love this... You keep saying sorry..not knowing, and all that I can think is 'I love you. I love you so much..'..and it just repeats.. God, I love you..you don't have to feel the same..

[littlehollyleaf]

...still anxious

about the way Dean’s desire to save Cas and arguing to save Cas was painted in the episode... like... I’m actually really concerned that there was a serious implication by the end that Dean WAS WRONG to be trying to free Cas from Lucifer, like it was being presented as akin to his and Sam’s continual TRANSGRESSIVE savings of each other (eg. forced Gadreel possession or curing the Mark)... and as such, that our support of Dean’s desire to and trying to help/save Cas is seemingly HYPOCRITICAL in the face of our criticism of Dean and Sam constantly trying to help/save each other...

:/

*sigh*

[gruntsandpoetry]

maybe it got no notes bcuz your writing sucks

It’s cool if you think my writing sucks anon but you could probably have kept this one to yourself????? I assure you tearing others down isn’t going to do anything to make you feel better about yourself at the end of the day, so the next time you feel the urge to be a complete piece of trash to someone on the internet go do something productive with your time perhaps, you’ll probably feel much better after and you’ll have the satisfaction of knowing you didn’t have to make anyone else feel awful in the process! :))))))))))))

[themadcapmathematician]

single and ready to kris kringle

[taehyungeez]

I dreamt of taehyung 2 days ago omfg

we were walking side by side and he was wearing a white buttoned up top and then some buttons suddenly came undone and I asked "who are you trying to seduce?" he replied with a "you" and then I woke up

[themadcapmathematician]

Breakfast with Will and Hannibal

Will: wow, look at all this delicious food!

Hannibal: I cooked it myself. I only use my own, FRESH ingredients.

Will: Boy, I can't wait to taste it, Dr. Lecter!

Hannibal: please, call me Hannibal. And I'm sure you will find it a very...PERSONAL experience.

Will: *stabs food with fork and lifts it up to take a bite* It smells great, Hannibal!

Hannibal: I'm sure it smells like a deliciously seasoned, freshly slain 35-year-old...deer.

Will: *stops* Hannibal...

Hannibal: yes Will?

Will: ...It's people, isn't it?

Hannibal: ...No.

Will: *sighs* Come on Hannibal, this is a person you cooked.

Hannibal: I don't know what you're talking about, Will...

Will: Hannibal. Be honest with me.

Hannibal: honestly, it's wonderful, you should have some!

Will: The food you are feeding me is people.

Hannibal: Nuh uh.

Will: Yeah huh.

Hannibal: No way.

Will: YES way.

Hannibal: It's 100% all natural, free range, corn fed...

Will: PERSON

Hannibal: CHICKEN WILL IT IS CHICKEN

Will: You know what, I'm just gonna go get something at Denny's

Hannibal: WIIIIIIILLL! WHERE ARE YOU GOING WILL? COME ON WILL IT'S DELICIOUS! DON'T DISS IT BEFORE YOU TRY IT!

[gruntsandpoetry]

It’s hard to pinpoint exactly when it happened, because for Dean, it seems as if it’s always been happening. Suddenly, all at once, he realizes he has always been in love with Castiel. Son of a bitch.

He has a coffee stain on his bathrobe and his hair is a mess and he missed a spot shaving on his chin and he’s humming into his coffee mug as he reads the morning paper. He’s a mess, in every sense of the word. He has bad breath in the morning and even now his ties are always slightly crooked. He always leaves his dirty coffee mug on the counter instead of placing it in the sink like Dean has asked him to. He uses all the hot water and he leaves discarded articles of clothing all over the bunker. And he makes weird noises when he sleeps, not that Dean has, on more than one occasion recently, stood in the threshold of his bedroom watching him or anything. That would just be creepy.

His favorite TV show is The Golden Girls, and he hums along to the theme song every time he watches. He laughs so loud that Dean can hear him clear across the other side of the bunker. He is so fucking weird. But he also watches things like Cosmos, and smiles reverently at the television. He sighs and says, “I know that place,” and he chuckles to himself when they talk of the possibility of life on other planets.

Dean asked him one night if it was true, if there were other places out there like Earth, and Cas just smiled, knowingly, and started rattling off some complicated equation. After that, Dean sort of zoned out staring at his lips and if he ever did give an answer, Dean certainly didn’t hear it. Because the equation was so boring of course, not because he was thinking of kissing his lips. No. It was not that. It was the math which Dean totally hates and he does not think about kissing Cas all the time. That would be even creepier than watching him sleep at night, which he also does not do. There’s definitely something wrong with him. He chews on pen caps and he’s always tapping his foot rhythmically as he reads. And he’s always reading something, even if Metatron did sort of spoil most of the novels in existence for him. He said it doesn’t matter, a story without context isn’t much of a story at all, and even if he does know the ending, the journey getting there is still just as meaningful. Sometimes he reads aloud to Dean when he finds particularly profound passages in all his favorite books. Dean likes it when he reads him Vonnegut, even if he does know half his books by heart at this point himself. The journey Cas’ voice takes him on makes those words somehow even more meaningful. Cas is a horrible cook, particularly when it comes to eggs. They’re always overcooked and he never seasons them correctly. Always too much or too little. The dude is a genius when it comes to astrophysics and quantum mechanics, but he does not know how to use a salt shaker. And half the time he burns the bacon, and he never remembers to brew more coffee when he drinks the last cup.

Dean doesn’t know what’s happening to him, because he finds suddenly that he doesn’t even care anymore. The quirks, the strange little habits, the smells, the messes. Everything this fallen angel, this man, is and has become, has become a part of him as well. And okay, so he hasn’t exactly told him yet, hasn’t worked up the nerve to say the words, hasn't dared try to kiss him. He’s working on it. He almost has, a half dozen times at night, when he was totally not watching him sleep because that would just be weird. But as their bare feet brush against one another beneath the kitchen table, their eyes meeting over their mugs, he thinks maybe today. Maybe today will be the day he finally tells him.