Well, my computer’s broken, beach trip canceled, and now I can’t move my neck.
Fun two days.
Can we talk about this moment? When Bobby was dying, he could hardly move. Damn, he couldn’t even say those numbers that were so important. His brain was falling apart, and such a big deal was made out of those coordinates Bobby gave them (or tried to). But then, after all that, you’d think Bobby would be so tired, right? Well obviously, he was. He was weak, and couldn’t even right down all of those numbers. Yet after all that, he had to do one more thing. Just one more, that’s it. Before Bobby died, he just wanted to see his boys smile. Evidently that was so much work for him, but in his dying moments, he didn’t want those boys of his having even the smallest hint of sadness in their eyes. So he did the one thing that he could- just say that old little word that he so often used, and try to make sam and dean smile. So in the end, Bobby just wanted those boys of his to be happy, because he already knew how much pain they had went through. In the end, Bobby was their true father. He was their true father because he understood what they were going through, and would give anything to try and stop it. He never wanted those kids of his to ever be sad, so in his moment of dying, he tried to make them smile- because that’s the one thing in the world that he truly wanted.
I Was Trying To Be Funny But It Came Out as Really Mean: A 5-part documentary starring me.
“Hi! I’m the Doctor. I noticed you were having a bit of a bad day. So! Convinced you’re not important, eh? I’ve never heard a stupider stupid thought in my life. Wait. No. That sounds bad. Misguided, is that a nicer word? I don’t mean that YOU’RE stupid, but just your thoughts are stupid—
Right, anyway. Popped by in the TARDIS to remind you that I have never met someone who isn’t important. And if you’re clever and want to tell me we’ve never met, I’d like to remind you I said, ‘Hi! I’m the Doctor,’ and that counts as an introduction.
You matter. Just remember that. You matter.”
Fuck me I’m crying cause I read this in his voice and now I feel better.
I don’t even watch Doctor Who but I needed this so bad oh my god who let me be a person
I did the same thing this is amazing
EXCUSE ME WHILE I PROCEED TO TAKE A MAJESTIC NOPE INTO THE SUNSET.
I was about to do something along the lines of ‘heLP I’VE FALLEN AND I CAN’T GET UP’ but then I realized that Cas….
Oh god.. I’m supposed to be writing an english essay but:
The battle was over.
Dean dragged his body over to where Cas lay, gasping for breath.
His side was burning with pain, but he ignored it : Cas needed him.
He could hear the pain in Cas’ voice.
“I’m here, don’t worry”
2 sky blue eyes stared at him. They’re filled with tears.
Dean faked a smile
“I’ve had worse”
He laid his head beside Cas’, feeling the darkness that was slowly embracing the both of them.
Cas tuned his head towards Dean, his eyes were slowly glazing over.
“I….Love….You” he said with his last breaths.
A tear fell from Dean’s eyes as he saw Cas’s eyes glaze over completely. The imprint of his wings appeared on the ground, only confirming that he was gone.
“I love you too, Cas”
Dean closed his eyes and let the darkness embrace him.
I have scrolled past this seven times today, so the eighth time is the one I break.
It started as the teasing of light against his eyelids, a soft breeze that was warm against his cheek. Dean grunted, half rolling over, reaching out to find grass under his fingers. Slowly he forced his eyes open, squinting against a brilliant sun.
There were voices somewhere off to his left, and the very distinct smell of cooking meat. For several long beats, Dean held still, letting everything filter in, mind churning frantically to attempt to figure out what the hell had happened.
The fight. The big goddamn fight that had lead to the final fucking end. Sam, God knew where. Cas dying right next to him. And then …
He’d died. If there was one thing Dean Winchester knew, it was what dying felt like, and that had definitely been dying.
So where the fuck was he and why could he smell barbecue?
“Sammy?” It was the first question that came to mind, the first name he’d always call. But it was followed closely by, more carefully, “Cas?” It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d watch Castiel die only to have him come back. One more miracle, Dean thought. Just one more. Come on, there’s got to be one more I can get.
Dean’s hands had gone for his gun, his knife, finding all of them gone. Just friggin’ great. He was totally unarmed in the middle of a park or something and he had no idea what was happening. Hearing Sam’s voice, though, and Dean let out a huge breath of relief, forcing himself to stand.
“Thank God, Sam. What —”
When Dean looked over, the words turned to ash in his mouth. It wasn’t just Sam. There was a grill, picnic tables, like he’d wandered into some kind of Brady Bunch special. But that wasn’t what was so shocking. Sitting at those tables, smiling at him like everything was just goddamn normal, was Jo. Ellen. Ash, the fucker, setting down two six packs of beer.
“What the hell.” It really was the only response. Dean stared, eyes going back to Sam, searching his face for answers. ”Seriously, what the hell.”
“Your guess is as good as ours,” Sam answered, though he was smiling, too, running a hand through his hair with a sheepish shrug. ”I mean, I just, uh, got here a little bit before you. I think. Time is kind of weird.”
“Hard to keep track of,” Ellen agreed. She’d come up to Dean and before he knew what had happened she’d wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. ”Good to see you, Dean,” she whispered.
“Yeah.” After several beats Dean returned the hug, sagging into her with a kind of painful relief. ”God, Ellen.”
Jo was next, looking beautiful and punching his shoulder with a grin. Ash brought him a beer. And then there was Bobby, who hugged both him and Sam so tight that Dean didn’t even care he could feel his ribs protesting. They were here. They were….
“It’s heaven,” Dean realized, looking around.
“Near as we can figure,” Ellen nodded. ”We’ve just been waiting on you two knuckleheads.”
“Can’t say I’m overly thrilled with how quick you showed up,” Bobby grunted. ”But hell, I knew you wouldn’t let us down.”
“We did it?” Dean looked over at Sam as if for confirmation and Sam gave him a tired nod. Dean hadn’t even realized how worn down Sam had gotten over the years until he saw him here, that air of innocence back in his eyes.
This was heaven. This was almost everything he’d ever wanted.
“Dean. Sammy.” The familiar voice sent chills down his spine; Dean immediately straightened up, turning around to find John Winchester standing there, beaming at both of them. ”I knew you’d get here.”
“Dad,” Dean whispered, eyes wide. Sam just stared, unsure, glancing at Dean and shifting, looking for all the world like a ten foot tall four year old.
Neither one of them had to move. John was there, hauling them in, hugging them with a fierceness Dean couldn’t ever remember feeling before. And if tears fell when he heard his father’s voice finally whispering I’m sorry and I’m so proud and I love you, well, then, he was in freaking heaven. Sometimes shit like that happened.
When Mary joined them, Dean was almost expecting her. Her hug was lingering, and she smiled at him like he was worthy of it. Like he’d done something good.
This wasn’t what he’d expected Heaven to be. This wasn’t what he knew Heaven was. But here they were, and if this was some fucking angel trick, Dean knew he was going to tear someone apart, so help him God.
They gathered around the food, they talked and they laughed, and all of them admitted that this was not typical. This wasn’t what it should be. This hadn’t been what they knew Heaven to be like, until all of a sudden, it was. It didn’t make sense. And yet here they were.
Finally, Dean got up the courage to ask. ”Cas?” No one would meet his eyes.
“We haven’t seen him,” Sam finally admitted. His shifted, eyes dropping to the table. ”I asked. Before you got here.”
Of course. Of course there’d be a catch. A price to pay. Of course he’d never get everything. Dean nodded, jaw tightening, his gaze falling away from the faces of his family, not wanting any of them to see just how deeply it hurt, knowing his heaven was someplace Castiel wasn’t.
Then again. Maybe this time, maybe for fucking once, everybody got to be happy.
Maybe this was God giving Dean Winchester just one win.
can we just take a moment to imagine little cute six-year-old hermione reading matilda
and peering into this book about a smart, bookish girl who could move things with her mind
and then can you imagine her concentrating very hard on the books on the bookshelf and slowly, slowly, getting them to move
Friendly reminder that when Dean couldn’t deal with the thought of Cas letting go, this is what he imagined instead:
Because he’d rather live with the guilt of having left behind a heartbroken angel than even go near the idea that his angel didn’t want him.
CAN :) YOU :) FUCKING :) EXPLAIN :) HOW :) THIS :) IS :) A :) FRIENDLY :) REMINDER :)
I really don’t understand how people can hate gay people and call them “disgusting” I mean really,
did you just slip destiel into a post about actual gay couples and no one’s said anything about it yet what