If I Had Found Shiftblr First Instead Of Shiftok, My Life Would Be 1000000000000000000000%%% Better And

"Full of fresh food, shaded by the trees, Lucy Gray singing softly beside him, he began to appreciate nature. It really was beautiful out here. The crystal clean air. The lush colors. He felt so relaxed and free. What if this was his life: rising whenever, catching his food for the day, and hanging out with Lucy Gray by the lake?

Who needed wealth and success and power when they had love? Didn’t it conquer all?"

--Suzanne Collins, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes page 441

In the end, love did conquer all.

i sifted through many messages for this

i just want them to be happy :’]

DUDE?!

dean is not a man of faith, never has been, not after everything he’s lost. but somehow, a late night drive after a violent nightmare takes him to an empty church; it looks abandoned or otherwise vacant and he’s just… compelled to go in. he doesn’t really know why, something just pulls him in and for once he doesn’t go kicking and screaming.

he is not a man of faith and he hesitates as he looks over the rows of empty pews. he feels like a stain on a white cloth, a parasite to a host, like he doesn’t belong here and the thought of being here makes his skin crawl. he doesn’t know why he’s here in the first place and his heart is pounding with leftover anxiety. he’s not here for chuck though. maybe he’s here for jack. maybe for sam. but neither is really true.

he is not a man of faith but dean walks to the pews stiff and uncertain. he’s only ever stepped into a church willingly once and that was for his mothers funeral. the church is empty but dean feels eyes heavy on him, like if he doesn’t get this right he’ll burst into flames. he is walking sin, he feels like filth in a holy house, but he kneels anyway. he kneels and goes willingly and he feels a knot in his gut that’s telling him that whatever he says or does he is not deserving, he doesn’t deserve any blessings he asks for, any help he needs, any guidance he seeks.

he doesn’t ask for anything, though. he folds his hands and he closes his eyes. he is not a man of faith, and deans certain this will all lead to no-one, but he prays.

he doesn’t pray to anyone in particular, and it’s not necessarily that he meant to pray to cas specifically, but it just happens. the decision was more unconscious, like it was easy as breathing; of course he’d pray to cas. and maybe it’s the fact hes in a church that the prayer he sends is so loud, so holy, that the newly reformed angel of thursday stills in the bunker when dean winchester, man of little faith, the righteous man, kneels and bows his head in prayer in the house of god and prays, not to god himself, but to him.

to dean, it’s all nonsense. it’s a prayer filled with fear, regret; it’s a poem, a memoir, a to-do list, a grocery list, a love letter, an apology. it’s nothing, and it’s everything.

but to castiel, it’s not nonsenses. his prayers are filled with love. it’s full with faith for him. the one who believes himself so undeserving is so filled with love and cas is shaking. no creature on earth has come as close as dean winchester has to undoing him. his thoughts are filled with a buzzing energy like an electrical wire that simmers in his sternum, warm and human. he clutches at his chest to keep them safe and castiel aches with a shared longing that almost brings him to his knees. dean winchester prays and castiel listens.

when dean comes home, he doesn’t mention where he went. but cas knows. and something in his face tells dean that he knows. cas watches dean descend down the stairs like nothing monumental just happened. dean offers him a small smile, warm and gentle to make up for him leaving so abruptly just a few hours ago. it’s not the command of god that has castiel reaching for him like he did years ago. he just does it because he can. because he wants to. he's allowed to. castiel meets dean halfway, grips him tight, and holds him.

he whispers something holy and intimate that only dean can hear. an angel prays to man. he is a ball of celestial yarn, unravelling at the feet of a man who believes, years ago, he didn't deserve to be saved, that he is nothing but a killer. but he loves. dean winchesters love is not so easily earned, and he loves castiel. he chooses to. so castiel closes his eyes, bows his head, and like amen, he seals his own silent prayer with a kiss. it's a thank you, it's an apology, it's a promise. it’s nothing, and it’s everything.

dean winchester is not a man of faith, but he has faith in cas. always.

i need jackles to release the tapes…

I need to see EVERY MICRO EXPRESSION JENSEN MADE IN THAT SCENE THAT WAS SO RUDELY LEFT ON THE CUTTING ROOM FLOOR LIKE THIS ONE

please…

Lucy Gray should be proud to know she haunted that evil man every damn day of his fucking miserable life

Literally me about Destiel, Wenclair, and Percabeth

thinking about them isn't enough, I need to inject them into my veins.

Cas watching The Princess Bride and suffering a catharsis with Buttercup and Westley romance and all the ‘as you wish’ 'why didn't you wait for me' and ‘because... you had died’, and secretly desiring, yearning for that amount of love and devotion not realizing he already has it

Doomed yuri

JJDHJDJBHD

JJDHJDJBHD to you, too good sir!