Oh Shit, After Watching The Episode I Am Freaking Oout..! Who Cares If Im Clowning, I Am Happy

Oh shit, after watching the episode I am freaking oout..! Who cares if I’m clowning, I am happy 😍🤡

My dash right now

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I will never get tired of looking at these 2 pictures

This is beautifully written, loved it ❤️

15.07 coda--where no words abide

Sometimes, the things that are felt the most are expressed between two souls over the distance and over time…where no words abide. And others may speak freely, live with one another freely, express themselves freely–just like everyone else, but then there is you…you have no words for proof of reassurance, no tokens of professed love, but you have something. Something worth keeping.–C. Joybell C.  

—

Dean burns the bar. 

Dumps tequila and whiskey and gin and rum and whatever other rotgut he finds behind the counter over the floors, the pool tables, the bar itself, the walls–He splashes alcohol over Lee, carefully not looking at his face, at–

Dean swallows down his disgust, his rage, his grief. He pushes it down into the seething mass of his stomach and walks towards the exit. At the door, he turns around. If he turns his head just the right way, he can see the dark lump of Lee huddled against one of the pillars. Dean turns his head the other way before he flicks his lighter. 

He tosses it into the room and leaves as the wave of heat slaps him across the face. He walks away to the sound of flames licking against the walls. 

He puts the burning building in his rearview and he never looks back. 

On his way out of town, he glances at his cellphone. When he sees that Cas called, his heart does a sick little lurch and jump. He fumbles several times over the screen before his thumb swipes at the message. 

When he hears what’s in the message, his foot presses down on the gas pedal until the tires are squealing against the asphalt. 

—

He drives straight through the evening and into the night until his tires crunch over the gravel outside the bunker. His mind is churning with the sound of Cas’ voice on his phone, his words Sam is hurt and then the more desperate, angrier, Where ARE you. The sound of three missed calls spurs him onward, because Cas can never just answer his damn phone, because apparently it’s fine when Dean calls Cas and Cas doesn’t answer, but heaven forbid Cas call Dean and not get an immediate answer. 

It’s a small, mean thought, brought on by fear and helplessness, and the knowledge that there’s still a little smear of Lee’s blood ground into the skin of his thumb. Dean grits his teeth and pushes on and when he gets to the bunker, his heart does a little skip-thump when he recognizes Castiel’s truck parked outside. 

He drives faster than the recommended into the garage and parks the Impala crooked. Grabbing his duffel, he hurries through the hallway into the war room. The sight of movement is enough to make him jog the last few steps until he bursts into the room to find–

Cas looks up at him, eyes wide and startled. Dean thought that his heart did a weird little lurch when he saw Cas’ name in his phone and truck in the driveway, but it’s nothing compared to what’s happening now, his heart is dancing a damn tango against his lungs and ribs and he’s powerless to stop it, he’s caught in the riptide of Cas, back in the bunker, Cas, back where he belongs–

“Dean,” Cas says. At the sound of Cas’ voice smoothing over the letters of his name, something in Dean’s chest shatters. Cas’ voice is unfathomable, soft and bitter and unreadable. 

For weeks, Dean’s practiced what he would say to Cas. In the quiet moments between cases, in the solitude of his room or the shower, in the ceaseless churn of his tires against pavement, he’s confronted Cas thousands of times. Sometimes he’s angry, sometimes he’s desperate. Most of the time he begs Cas to stay. Sometimes, in his fantasies, Cas even says yes. 

But for all those scenarios, Dean forgets how words work when confronted with the reality of Cas in front of him, the glory of seeing the impossible become possible. He gropes for something, anything to say, and can only come up with, “Sam. Is he, uh…” 

 “He’s fine,” Cas says, too quickly, his eyes darting around the room at anywhere except Dean. 

A chasm opens up in Dean’s chest, wide as ocean, wide as the table that separates him and Cas, wide as the years that separate them, wide as the span of his fingers that want to reach out and clutch the tails of Cas’ coat. 

A sigh of relief blows out of Dean, the ever-present clamoring of Take care of Sammy, Take care of Sammy appeased. Something complicated passes over Cas’ face when Dean says, “Good, that’s good,” except Dean doesn’t see what it is since Cas is already turning away from him. 

“Yeah,” Cas says, already moving, always moving away. Ten years and Cas has never stopped moving away, has never stopped walking out of all the doors in Dean’s life. By now, Dean is so familiar with the sight of Cas disappearing out of doorways, that he sees it in his sleep. 

“Good,” Dean breathes, past the pained twist in his chest. “Good.” 

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I’m here for it

okay but i think we can all agree that the writers didn’t introduce that whole ‘cas-goes-to-the-empty-if-hes-finally-happy’ subplot for it to just be ignored.

no no… that shit is gonna go down this season

and its gonna happen after the fucking confession.

tell me im wrong. i dare you.

A little jenmisheel to cosy your day

knock, knock.

{♡}