excuse me while I go jump off a fucking cliff this is so beautiful

I received my GISHWHES voicemail from Misha and I think it’s too good not to share with the world. 

Things Meant to Be

“Cas, promise me you’ll never leave me.”

They’re in bed when Dean says this, their limbs intertwined, Cas’s slightly shorter frame spooned so perfectly in his own.  

It’s the only time Dean allows himself to speak like this, when he lets himself be open and vulnerable.  When he’s with Cas, just with Cas, it feels as though he can finally take off a mask he’s been wearing all day. 

Cas cranes his neck to peer over his shoulder at him.  “I can’t promise that, Dean.”  

Seeing the incremental look of hurt that starts to spread across Dean’s face, Cas elaborates,  “I’d never leave you willingly, of course.  But this universe is a cruel one.  Sometimes, it calls for our separation, and there’s nothing you or I can do to prevent it.”

Dean says nothing, only nods in silent acknowledgement at the unfortunate truth of Cas’s words.

He knows this, of course.  He’s seen it happen too many times before, some pompous asshole like Naomi or Metatron or Lucifer or even Crowley prancing out of nowhere to tear his angel away from him.  He should have learned by now that there’s nothing he can do about that.  Nothing either of them can do about it. 

All he can do is hope to Heaven that he never has to lose Cas for good.

On this bitter note, Dean closes his eyes, trying to relax, put the unwanted memories out of his mind, and catch some much-needed shut-eye.

“But Dean?”  says Cas, not looking up this time.

“Hmm?”

“I’ll always come back to you.”

Dean’s eyes blink open, surprised by the intensity behind Cas’s words.

“I never told you this,” the grumbling voice continues.  “But when I was…’God’ -” He encapsulates the word with exaggerated quote-y fingers.  “-I saw things.  Most of which my mind can’t make sense of, I…”  he trails off, shaking his head.  “Angels were never meant to have that much power.  I’m surprised I didn’t go totally insane from the sheer force of it all.  But I saw things, Dean.  Things I’ll never forget.  I saw…us.”

Dean’s brow furrows confusedly, trying to figure out what Cas is getting at.  “You mean, like…us in the future?” 

Cas shakes his head.  “No.  Us in other worlds, other universes.  More times than I can count, and each different from the next.”  He turns to face Dean conspiratorially.  “In one, Dean, you were the pizza man and I was the babysitter,” Cas whispers, as though this is scandalous information. 

Dean smiles bemusedly, and opens his mouth to make some characteristically lewd remark, perhaps point out that the pair assume those roles quite often in the privacy of their bedroom, when Cas goes on, “In another, you were a fireman and I, a doctor.  And in still another, I was a writer, and you were the exotic dancer serving as my muse.”

Dean’s not sure how to respond at this point, but luckily, he doesn’t need to, because Cas continues, “Sometimes, we had what you humans call a ‘happily ever after-’” (More quote-y fingers.)  “-And spend our lives together, happy and content.  Other times, fate wasn’t so kind.”  

Cas pivots his body so he’s lying on his back now, looking regretfully up at Dean through long, dark lashes.  “In one, I watched you go to war and never truly come home again.  And you, in turn, were forced to watch me die.”  Cas shakes his head ruthfully.  “It’s a shame, really.  We were so in love.  And we could both ‘dig Elvis.’”  

Any other time, Dean would have demanded Cas stop with the air quotes (admittedly, he does find them endearing, but three times in one evening is just plain outside the bounds of social acceptability) but he’s too baffled and overwhelmed by what Cas is saying.  

He continues, “Like I said before, Dean, angels weren’t meant to have so much power, and in truth, I don’t know exactly what it was I saw – if I truly was catching a glimpse into alternate universes or if it was only the short circuiting of an inflamed mind.  But I know that what I saw was real, Dean, if only symbolically:  I may have to leave you, Dean.  Sometimes the universe demands it.  But it will never truly be goodbye.”

Cas looks up at him, oceanic eyes meeting Dean’s peridot, brimming with an intensity that, even now, never fails to make Dean’s heart flutter. 

“I will always come back to you, Dean,” he says, with such certainty that Dean can’t help but believe it.  “Over a thousand different universes, a thousand different worlds, I’ll always come back to you.  I’ll always find you again, even when it doesn’t feel that way.  And most of all, Dean, I will always love you.”  He pauses briefly, squinting contemplatively into space.  “I believe some part of me always has – that it’s built into the very fiber of my being.  Perhaps even the universe itself.  And that’s why, no matter the circumstances, we always find each other again.”

Dean doesn’t know what to say.  He’s not sure there’s anything to say.

After a moment or two, he swallows wetly, and inquires, “So, uh.  Why didn’t you ever tell me this before?” 

Cas shrugs.  “I could never think of an appropriate occasion.  You were, as you put it, ‘working through some shit’ at the time, and afterwards, it simply never came up.  But I thought it was time you know.”  

Dean nods stiffly as Cas curls up against him once more, this time resting his head on Dean’s chest like a pillow, wordlessly, as though this surreal, existential conversation had never transpired. 

Dean’s still processing as he almost instinctively presses his nose to the top of Cas’s head and breaths in the smell of him:  faintly electrical, like lightning, and something sweet that Dean insists is apple pie.

“I love you,” he murmurs, voice slightly muffled into the dark, messy hair.  

“I love you too, Dean,” Cas replies, adding, “Goodnight,” even though they both know he isn’t going to sleep.

“G’night, Cas.” 

Dean breaths a contented sigh as he allows his eyes to flutter shut, the tension leaving his muscles.  

Even now, though, as if on instinct, he draws Cas in a little closer, squeezing his angel a little tighter, as if daring the universe to try and take him again.   

Jaden Smith as Dizzee Kipling in The Get Down pt. 1 (2016)

bucky, steve, nat, and sam all take turns proposing to each other. it starts as a game, as most things do between the four of them in their relationship - bucky goes down on one knee and pops the question to sam with a ring pop, grinning like he always does when he’s being an asshole, but then he starts crying when sam says yes, and things get serious pretty fast after that.

natasha, bitter she didn’t get to sam first, kicks bucky’s ass in the sparring room and proposes to him when she’s got him pinned beneath her. bucky, eyes wide, says yes with a breathless voice that he stubbornly maintains is from the sparring, not his feelings. nat knows the truth. she is Pleased.

steve proposes to sam in the middle of a battle. “marry me!” he calls out, throwing his shield over sam’s head. “what, right now?” sam yells over the gunfire. steve just grins at him, bloodstained and a little wild-eyed, and sam wraps them both in his wings so he can kiss him without getting shot in the process.

steve asks nat to pass him the salt over the dinner table, and she says “only if you’ll marry me.” steve says he will, so nat hands him the salt with a smirk. their ankles are hooked together under the table.

sam proposes to nat when he’s got the flu. steve’s making him soup, bucky’s down the street picking him up some medicine from walgreens, and nat’s sitting with him while she’s checking him for fever. “what’ll make you feel better?” she asks him, squeezing his hand. “marry me?” sam asks, pathetically, around his thermometer. nat just laughs and says yes, on the condition that she doesn’t have to kiss him until he’s better.

steve is sort of flustered when he offers his dog tags to bucky, tips of his ears going pink, and they both blubber a little when bucky puts them on - bucky manages to choke out “marry me? please”, and steve’s tearful “of course” is mostly unintelligible because he kisses bucky in the middle of saying it.

they all wear matching wedding bands and love to mess with people they meet who try to figure out who exactly is married to who. legally, of course, they can’t make it official, but the vows they’ve made are just as binding as they would be with piece of paper to prove it. 

Hogwarts Dating

Enjoltaire Edition

bagginshield gif battle vs arkenburglar round four: aspect/trait: the utter lack of personal space

thorin and frodo the cutie hobbit !

I made a nicer version of my comic :) thanks for all the love!

oh, but maybe some things were just meant to burn; (x)

Major locations in Middle-earth: Part I

we made it