morning, sunshine
These trans girls of color are so beautiful and brave!
I am really proud of them all.
Because my job got me going nowhere, so I ain’t got a thing to lose.
Take me to a place where I don’t care, this is me and my liquor store blues.
I’ll take one shot for my pain, one drag for my sorrow.
Get messed up today, I’ll be ok tomorrow.
make it better. 12x01 coda. deancas. (ao3)
Dean’s first thought, when he sees his mom for the first time in over thirty years, is that all the pain has been worth it if it means he gets to have her back.
“Mom?” he says.
It feels like the most important word he’s ever spoken.
Magic is the fabric of this world and you were born of that magic.
You are magic itself.
Tumblr mobile is refusing to post my selfies this is bullying
idfk i couldnt sleep and wanted to draw cas so i did
“Every freckle is an angel’s kiss; pressed into soft skin with precision and unconditional affection.”
Sam looked up from the book he was reading. He studied the pair on the couch, his face soft with fondness.
Dean was snoring, his head in Cas’ lap, and he was probably drooling.
Cas’ eyes were fixed on the television screen, his face placid and content. He was absentmindedly running his fingers through Dean’s hair, making it stick up in all directions.
Sam smiled to himself and looked back down, reading the words again.
No wonder his brother had so many.
Yeah, I decided to make some Misha icons because I love this photo. Please, like/reblog if using :)
Finished commission for tsuckiyama ! She wanted a redraw of Gabriel’s death
Sam is about to take a sip of his coffee when Castiel suddenly appears in the kitchen, walks straight toward Dean at the table and drops a jacket onto his lap.
Dean flinches instantly. “What the hell, man?”
“You need to wear this,” the former angel orders with a determined expression, obviously not impressed by Dean’s bewildered face.
“Uh … what?”
Sam takes a closer look and notices that it’s the jacket Dean bought for himself a few months ago with a big smile on his lips, calling it ‘fucking perfect’. From then on he wore that thing every other day.
Until a couple of weeks ago when Dean and Castiel finally got their shit together over a bowl of popcorn during a movie marathon, with Sam right next to them, apparently totally forgotten. They exchanged kisses and love confessions (well, at least Castiel did – Dean just stammered awkwardly and blushed a lot) and Sam fled the scene hastily.
After that it was suddenly Castiel who wore the jacket all the freaking time and Dean tried his best – and failed spectacularly – to hide his pleased face. Castiel even left his beloved trench coat behind for this (although he compensated this by wearing it in the bunker instead, sometimes even during mundane tasks like cooking or cleaning).
And until this morning that didn’t change.
“You’re … you’re giving it back to me?” Dean asks, confused.
“Yes, I do,” Castiel states, glaring at the garment on Dean’s lap as if it personally offended him.
“Oh.” Dean still seems puzzled about this, but there is some nervousness in his gaze as well. He lowers his head and asks tentatively, “Did … did I do something wrong?”
Castiel tilts his head. “No, of course not. Why would you say that?”
Dean frowns. “Why are you giving it back then?”
“You’re supposed to wear it. Just for a few days.” When Dean still keeps silent, Castiel adds, “It doesn’t smell like you anymore. You need to change that!”
He sounds as if this is an unacceptable fact he wouldn’t tolerate any longer and Sam can’t help but chuckle quietly.
Dean just blinks a few times before Castiel’s words finally reach his brain. “Oh,” he whispers, a mild flush spreading across his cheeks. “Um … okay.”
Castiel nods, obviously satisfied with that answer, and strides out the room with his mission accomplished.
And Dean just watches him leaving the room, smiling fondly, and puts the jacket on immediately.
That tiny smile and how his face just brightens up is too much to handle for my poor Cas!girl heart