but here ya go world

The End of the World

12x10 coda

Long after the beer in their bottles had warmed, long after Sam had excused himself to ‘do some research,’ Dean and Castiel sat at the table in silence. Dean shot furtive glances at Castiel, who had taken to rubbing his thumb around the opening of his bottle.

The silence was deafening.

“It wouldn’t be the end of the world, you know,” Cas said abruptly.
Dean blinked. After today, Cas could be referring to just about anything.

“My death,” Cas continued, thumb moving in slow, methodical circles around the top, “It wouldn’t be the end of the world.”

“Cas…” Dean’s voice was rough, thick with worry. He’d heard enough of what the angel, and Lily, for that matter, had said to him. Not to mention nobody could hold a self-grudge quite as well as the angel.

“You saw how today went,” Castiel continued evenly, “You almost died. Again. Because of me.”

“Pretty sure you weren’t the one coming at me with an angel blade,” Dean replied, weakly trying (and failing) to interject a tone of humor.

Cas scoffed. “It doesn’t change the fact it was my mistake that dragged you into the mess to begin with. It was my mistake Lily Sunders was dragged into it too and…” he paused, thumb on the edge of the rim, balancing over a precipice it seemed. Cas sighed, his hand fell away from the bottle. “Perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst thing for you if I was gone.”

The floor seemed to fall away and Dean had to stifle a gasp. He’d spent most of his time nursing a not-so-subtle anger at Cas and when Cas had returned it, Dean had taken that as a sign that Cas was fine. And yeah, Cas offering to let Lily take him down would have been worrisome, but Cas was smart, he was kind, he was just saying what she needed to hear…wasn’t he?

Castiel proffered a small smile, looking up at Dean at last. “At least you wouldn’t have to worry about my stupid ideas anymore, right?"  

It’s said with some humor, like Cas expects Dean to agree and smile right alongside him. Dean just felt sick to his stomach. Taking a shaky breath, Dean stood. Made his way to Cas. Knelt at the angel’s feet, anchoring himself by putting both hands on Cas’ knees as he looked into the angel–his angel’s eyes.

"I would never recover.”

Cas blinked. “What?”

“If you die, man. I…I wouldn’t recover.”

Castiel sat frozen in place, his hand still next to the empty beer bottle.

“It might not be the end of the world, but it would be the end of my world. Cas, I had to face that today, with the banishing symbol and you have no idea–” Dean was breathless now, trying to say the things he could rarely bring himself to even admit, “I know the angels say we treat you bad. And I–I do and I’m sorry, man, but I can’t lose you. Not again.”

Hanging his head, Dean tried to say the other things, the other, far more secret words. The sort of words that the angels would likely claim corrupted Castiel beyond repair. So he wouldn’t say them. He couldn’t. A silent I love you was all he could give Cas.

But as he struggled, a strange thing happened. The faintest of touches on his hands. Dean looked down, really looked, to see Castiel’s hands hovering over his own. They locked eyes. Castiel let his hands drop firmly atop Dean’s.

“You’re worth falling for, you know.”

I love you too.

deancas au; 1,3k

Winter and glasses don’t mix. Unfortunately, it seems no one informed Cas’s ophthalmologist about it and she remains convinced that glasses and winter do, in fact, mix. More than that, in Cas’s case, they have to—unless he wants his sight to degrade even further than it already has due to two decades of neglect.

And so there he is now, freezing his nose off on the steel frames. He should have listened to Anna when she recommended the thick, plastic ones. They just didn’t seem very practical at the time, and now that’s just another regret.

At least, it stopped snowing.

The bright side of wearing glasses, of course—winter or not—is that Cas can now read the bus timetable without having to, figuratively, press his nose to it. He can even see the number of the incoming bus from the very crossroads and consequently spare himself the guessing and getting to the door last.

He really should have gotten glasses sooner.

Cas gathers his bags off the bench and moves towards the middle entrance. As soon as the door opens he steps into the warmth of the crowded vehicle. The puff of heated air envelops his face and—

The world goes white.

All of it.

Well, almost all of it; there are still colors and movement on the periphery of his vision. The entire center field is obscured by dense, white fog.

He stops in his tracks, shifts all heavy bags into one hand to free the other but the incoming passengers keep pushing him forward. Blinded, he attempts to move toward the rear end of the bus without stumbling. There’s too much hustle to try wiping the steam off the glasses now; with half a dozen shoulders pressing on him from all sides, he can’t even lift the freed hand.

The jam loosens, slightly, when the doors close and Cas manages to find a little safe footing. He reaches to the glasses but the tips of his fingers can barely brush the frames when the bus starts and the yank sends Cas tumbling forward.

He shoots his free hand up in a futile attempt to grab a strap and collides into someone’s chest. A strong scent of cologne fills him up as his nose sinks into the man’s collar. An arm wraps around Cas on instinct. The man stills them both easily.

“Got you,” a low voice purrs above his ear.

A hot blush creeps up Cas’s cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, trying to pull away.

The steam covering his glasses begins to recede around the edges, but still not enough to make out the face in front of him.

“S’fine,” the man says, loosening his hold, but doesn’t let go entirely until Cas finds the strap over his head. “Let me help ya, buddy.”

He gently pulls the glasses off Cas’s nose before Cas can protest. He starts wiping them with a handkerchief in his other hand, elbow locked around a pole. His eyes are trained on his own working fingers, the corners of his lips are raised in a tiny smirk. He must be around Cas’s age, maybe a couple years younger, and, Dear God, even without the glasses Cas can tell he’s beautiful.

Keep reading

“ becky l y n c h aesthetic

                                 – pocket rocket, firecracker

8

“Of course I know your name. I like you very much.”

My son – a terrible darkness has returned to our world.

As before, it seeks to annihilate everything we hold dear. I go to face it, knowing I may not return.

All my life I have lived by the sword. I’ve seen kingdoms burn – and watched brave heroes die in vain. It’s been… difficult for me to trust after losing so much. But from you, I have learned patience, tolerance, and faith.

Anduin, I now believe as you do: that peace is the noblest aspiration. But to preserve it, you must be willing to FIGHT!

—  Varian’s letter to Anduin

Rules: Shuffle your music and write down the first 10 songs. No skipping (or else)! Tag 10 people. I was tagged by the super cool person over at @thisgingerlovesbechloe  (I just put my saved music on Spotify on shuffle, so here ya go)

1. Silver Dollar- Train

2. Yorktown (The World Turned Upside Down)- Hamilton Soundtrack

3. Then There’s You- Charlie Puth

4. Red Button- Mike Posner

5. Making the Most of the Night- Carly Rae Jepsen

6. Popular- Wicked Soundtrack

7. PARTY- Girls’ Generation (that’s K-pop yall)

8. Little Me- Little Mix

9. ZVictorious- P!aTD

10. Make You Feel My Love- Glee Cast Version

Imma tag these nerds (as usual, you dont have to if ya dont wanna)

@wearmypainlikestilettos, @bananasendrick, @freaking-isadorkable, @quinnsgardenia, @sxottlang, @cuddlyreyes, @everythingbutmyself, @thatmitchsentho, @tinyolsen, and @stressed-lesbian