was high school musical even a real movie or did we all imagine it
was it some mass hallucination
are we all in this together
i’m really good at giving love to others and sending them messages telling them how much they mean to me, and i love doing it
but when i get a message like that in return, i have no idea how to respond to it, so i end up saying something like ‘thank you so much! you’re so sweet :)’ when in reality i’m more along the lines of ‘YOU PRECIOUS WONDERFUL PERSON THANK YOU THIS HAS MADE MY DAY SO MUCH BETTER YOU ARE AMAZING AND I HOPE YOU HAVE A BEAUTIFUL DAY’ combined with ridiculous facial expressions and stroking my computer screen
and i feel like my actual responses don’t really reflect how much i appreciate messages like that
You know the thoughts of your brethren like you know the stars in the sky, a never-ending hum in the back of your mind, buzzing at the edges of your awareness. You know the touch of each different grace against your own, the sound of wings beating against the air, the piercing scream when one of you dies, leaving light burned black and charred outlines on the pavement.
You have never known anything like this.
When Beowulf lay dying, poison from the dragon’s bite spreading through his veins, he called to him Wiglaf, son of Weohstan, who had entered the service of Beowulf some years past. Wiglaf bathed his lord, cleansing the blood and sweat of battle from his skin, and removing his helmet to make him comfortable.
Beowulf, knowing his death was near, called Wiglaf to his deathbed. With his last breaths, he uttered his final words: “Fate has taken all of my line to the land of doom, and now I join them.” With this he died, and though Wiglaf wept and tried to shake his lord awake, it was no use. The mightiest warrior and king lay dead before him.
The records remain conflicted on the exact wording the great man last used, but they all say close to the same - ‘all those in my line are gone, and I leave to be with them.’
When Dean Winchester, son of the first righteous man, finds Cas, he’s lying in a pool of his own blood, orange pill bottles scattered around him, the poison of the drugs seeping into what blood hasn’t left his body through the cuts along his arms.
It would be more poetic if Dean wasn’t yelling his name, Cas thinks.
Dean’s screaming, ‘stupid son of a bitch’ and ‘fucking dammit, Cas, why would you do this, you stupid bastard, don’t you dare die on me,’ trying to cover Cas’s arms with his own, sleeves staining red as he applies too little pressure too late. When that fails, he tears off the flannel, rips it apart and tries to bind the cuts, harsh words at odds with the way his hands shake and his voice cracks, the way he cradles Cas’s face in his hands, his head in his lap.
‘Why would you do this, Cas, why,’ and Dean’s voice cracks, tears in his eyes for the first time in years, the first time since Cas had come back to tell him the news about Detroit and Dean had collapsed, fallen to his knees in the dirt road and sobbed without a sound.
‘I can’t lose you too, Cas, please, you have to stay with me, I need you,’ and through the haze of pain and darkness clouding his vision, Cas manages to turn his head in Dean’s lap, look up at him, the once-righteous man turned fearless leader with tears streaming down his face.
‘It’s gone,’ he manages to croak out, words slurring with his vision, ‘it’s all gone, they’re gone and I have to go with them, Dean, I’m -‘ he coughs, closing his eyes against the blackness threatening to swallow him whole, ‘sorry.’ And he is, for everything, for all that he couldn’t do and all that he tried to be.
Dean’s screaming again, telling him to wake up, but Cas doesn’t listen.
The records, this time, aren’t contrary - there’s no one left to write them, anyway.
But if there were, they’d all say close to the same thing - a man clung tightly to his angel, and refused to let go until morning.
people irritate me.
hey yeah can everyone stop blaming megstiel for sinking the ship?
or for that matter harbouring anti-meg feeling and not wanting her to be brought back (unlikely as that may be)
it wasn’t megstiel that sunk anything
if the writers wanted to write deancas, they would have written it. the reason it’s not happening is because they want the het female fandom to have their ship and enjoy it but they don’t actually want to queer up the narrative in any way. they want to troll you all with talk of upcoming ~love and its after effects~ but they don’t actually want to show either of these things queerly.
it’s not happening bc cis white guy love is not that progressive but it is still far more progressive than spn is or aims to be and they can say it’s canon all they want but fact is a love confession would have made it canon and it was cut, not bc it wasn’t the right time, not bc they wanted a build-up, but bc that crosses a line they are not willing to cross.
they want a sweet ass ~bromance~ and that means you have to settle for a massively queer-baited ultimately platonic friendship that TPTB will endlessly pretend is or will be something else.
so stop crying over any woman who dares to exist within a heterosexist and viciously misogynistic narrative and see the big picture, which is a massively fucked up and oppressive show in which everything that happens is a symptom not a cause of said shittiness.
(via ilovehowyouletmefall)
I.
There is a certain horror about it - coming to consciousness and finding Dean in your hands, teary-eyed and begging, waiting, or, even worse, with new fleshy crevices along the swollen cheeks of his (normally) handsome face. Even still, he is handsome beneath the blood…
You know the thoughts of your brethren like you know the stars in the sky, a never-ending hum in the back of your mind, buzzing at the edges of your awareness. You know the touch of each different grace against your own, the sound of wings beating against the air, the piercing scream when one of you dies, leaving light burned black and charred outlines on the pavement.
You have never known anything like this.
how the fuck can you have watched four seasons of cas tearing himself apart for the fucking winchesters and think he doesn’t care
get the fuck out of here with that shit
