i don't like this


okay okay, here’s what I’m getting from this.
jamilla and sana exchanging ayah’s that sort of say “don’t trust white people” aka, sana’s mostly norwegian group of friends, because they’re inherently against her, and sana responding back with the Qur'an with a verse that basically says to reserve judgements and assumptions.
to which jamilla says, “I’m just trying to protect you” and sana basically says thanks but no thanks.
she’s revisiting this conversation from last march, when I assume they were on good terms because I feel like she thinks she was right.
this hurts.




Just think about it, they’re subverting the pilot wherein Dean is the one who’s being changed by the death of a loved one, HE’S BEING HARSH ON THE KID WHO REALLY DOESN’T DESERVE IT while leaving his brother to be the functional adult sound similar fellas??? and just I’m not okay???? I mean this is another blatant parallel with another romatic couple but it’s really not what I meant when I said I wanted more deancas content??????

I’m really hoping for a scene where Dean and Jack have a moment or something before Cas returns just to establish that Dean is very much not John and can handle losing people without going into destructive spiels of anger and then I want Cas back because I really want Cas back okay

The flesh on Dean’s knuckles knits itself back together, leaving no trace behind of the damage he’d done to himself the night before. His hand feels warm, both from the grace pulling at his finger tips and the rough palm enveloping his own. Cas gently rubs a thumb along the stained knuckles in small, soothing strokes, before he murmurs, “Dean, please talk to me.”

Dean sighs, running his other hand over his face, pushing against his tired eyes.

“Cas, not now, okay? I haven’t seen you in days and the first thing you wanna’ do is listen to me whine about my shit?” Cas waits, quiet and patient as Dean softly continues. “Can we… can you just, be here, please?”

Cas nods, letting go of Dean’s hand and shifts beside him on Dean’s - their - bed. It’s still new, this thing between them. Ever since the night with Ramiel and what they thought would be Cas’ dying breath, things have been different. Their interactions softer, more intimate in the quiet moments they share. The sheets beneath them rustle as Cas turns, pulling Dean in for a tight hug.

Dean tucks his chin over Cas’ shoulder, tightening his fingers in the worn fabric of the trenchcoat as he draws in a deep breath before he begins. “They’re working with the Brits, Cas. The fucking Brits, man. How the hell did they forget the fact that they tortured Sam, that you almost died, Cas… first mom, and now Sam. I can’t, I’m so fucking…”

“Hurt,” Cas finishes for him, Dean nodding against his neck. “You have every right to feel hurt, Dean. Although, I must say, I highly doubt that either of them has forgotten what the British Men of Letters did to Sam. And your mother couldn’t have known what would happen with Ramiel. With me. She didn’t know, Dean. She was trying to do what was right. Haven’t we all been guilty of that in the past?”

Dean huffs, drawing away from Cas and pulling at a tear in his jeans. “Yeah, okay, but that doesn’t make it right, Cas. We both know that. I get it, I do. Someone comes to you serving up a monster-free world of gummy bears and rainbows, who doesn’t buy into that shit? But if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s that this, this isn’t gonna’ end well. Never does.”

Cas hums to himself, loosening his tie and removing his coat, before speaking again. “We’ve made it this far working on heart and rash decisions, Dean. If it should go south, and they turn on your mother and Sam, I’ll be by your side to take them down. You won’t be alone.”

A small smile pulls at Dean’s lips as he turns and rests his forehead against Cas’, “I know.”