casissuperman:

I wrote a song about 2014!Cas months ago, and finally got around to recording it. Supernatural inspires me, man

Being Useful

Lost my wings in an echo of a crash
Looks like my family’s gone
Voices once inside my head
Far away
Uninterested
Who needs them anyway

Broke my foot on an end of a run
Spent two months on my back
Not that that’s anything new now
I’m hopeless
I’m hapless
Call it rolling in decadence
You might as well take what you want

A bottle of pills and I’m on my knees
I’m barely alive so just do what you please
Being gone is much better than fighting an incurable disease
So at least I’m being useful
I call it being useful

They knew me pretty well around camp by now
You look at the ground and you don’t ask how
It’s not like I’m leaving anytime soon
In this shadow of what I used to be

A bottle of anything and I’m on my knees
I’m barely alive so just do what you please
I’m not an angel anymore but I can still take you to heaven
I call it being useful

I caught your eyes across the meeting room today
They shuttered closed and then you looked away
Now I don’t know what I look like
Haven’t looked in the mirror
For a long time maybe a couple of years
But I know there’s a smile on my face
Plastered to me like the irony of fate
And that really seemed to shake you fearless leader
I call it an accomplishment

Do you remember the night when you came to me
We were barely alive and we did as we pleased
The fire in our veins was an incurable disease
But then you walked away
I hope that I was useful
You know I hate not being useful
Who needs love anyway

Lost my wings in an echo of a crash
Hope I can still be useful

baby-in-trenchcoat:

destielobsessed:

hevstiel:

JUST GET IT ON ALREADY

OH MY GOD

I love that this isn’t a manip. :D

Sometimes I think about how since Cas doesn’t approve of taking the Lord’s name in vain, during sex he’d miss out all of the “jesus christs” and just say Dean’s name like he was god

octopirecipes:

“I told you I’d return for you Castiel.”

Click for fullsize or drag at your own risk.

all-things-geeky:

I Won’t Say I’m In Love - Disney’s “Hercules

destiellll

  #sam is all the backup singers

kasienkanikki:

heterophobicbitch:

destielsextape:

 #okay while this line is hilarious and whatnot #i actually read it as something a little bit sadder #because in this episode Dean is pushing everyone away #trying to make them WANT him to say yes so he’ll be gone #he tells Bobby ‘you’re not my father’ #knowing that’s where it’ll hurt him the most #he tells Sam ‘I don’t believe in you’ #knowing that will cut the deepest #but what does he say to Cas? he makes a bunch of mocking sexual references #I think he knows that Cas is attracted to him #and this is him calling him out on it #to try and make Cas angry and hurt #this episode is Dean trying to convince his family that they don’t want him #so he goes for their weak spots #and Cas’s weak spot is the fact that he’s in love with Dean

YES! YEEEES! 

*gross sobbing*

#You can see Cas isn’t just confused #If you look at his eyes there’s a flash of panic after the initial What do you mean? reaction #Then his eyebrows quiver because he’s trying to hold his expression so Dean can’t tell he’s hurt #why are you my OTP? #You hurt so bad

winchestercodependency:

queen-of-the-kingdom:

I doubt this was intentional but it is rather quite interesting.

First of all, recap, Castiel had just run off to the Middle East to snag some holy oil right? This is important. Then Dean is standing behind talking about how Cas has never gotten it on,  Cas looking increasingly uncomfortable.

Cas rubs the back of his neck in nervousness when Dean basically expresses his disbelief at Cas having never been with someone.

Back to the whole visit to the Middle East Cas paid a few minutes ago; in Lebenon, rubbing the back of your neck towards someone is to express romantic interest in him or her.

This is Misha we are talking about though… I wouldn’t be surprised at all if he knew that for some reason.

carryonmycastiel:

lydier:

caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaas:

castiel-the-angel-of-thursday:

#in which dean takes polaroids of castiel #and castiel doesn’t understand why #but he lets dean take them anyway #dean’s kept them with him #always #and even after castiel had #well #gone #he still has them and looks at them when sam is sleeping #and remembers that night when he had taken the pictures #and how castiel was confused #and kept asking dean #’why’ #’why are you taking these pictures of me they have no real significance’ #’i don’t understand why you need them dean’ #and he smiles to himself #a secret smile #a smile that no one else will see 

Accepted

After laying in the dark for two hours, Dean resigned himself to the knowledge that he wasn’t going to be getting any sleep tonight. He crawled out of his bed and, quietly so he wouldn’t wake Sammy, walked over to where his duffel bag lay on the floor. He pulled out first a hand full of well worn polaroid pictures, then Castiel’s trenchcoat; Dean carried that tattered coat everywhere they went. He crept to the bathroom, and once inside, he turned on the light and sunk to the floor, his back against the door.

Dean brought the trenchcoat up to his face, breathing in the angel’s scent. It had been six months since Dean had watched helplessly as Castiel walked into the lake, slowly sinking under the water. Six months and the trenchcoat still held Castiel’s scent. Still smelt like rain and fresh air, with a slight musky scent mixed in. Dean took a deep breath, his green eyes glistening with tears.

He laid the trenchcoat in his lap and picked up the polaroids. He had made Castiel let him take them one sunny afternoon. They had been between cases and decided to use the fact that nothing was trying to kill them at the moment to take a day for themselves.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Use the day to soak up some sun and smell the roses,” Dean had said. He had laughed at the angel’s confused expression and had snapped a picture with the old polaroid camera Sam had found somewhere.

Dean had spent the better part of that day taking various shots of the blue-eyed angel.

“What is the point of this?” Cas had asked Dean repeatedly. “Why do you need these images when I am always here?”

“It’s something to remember one of the few days we don’t have some monster trying to kill us. Plus its fun.” Dean had answered, snapping another photo. Dean would not admit, even to himself, that it was because he was afraid of losing Cas and of what he would do without these little reminders if he did.

“Tell you what Cas,” Dean had said, handing the camera to the angel before giving him a chaste kiss. “I’ll let you take some of me. Then we’ll be even.” The hunter had shown Castiel how to operate the camera then struck a pose. “I call this one, ‘Blue Steel’.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean looked down at the polaroid in his hand, wiping a tear off the brightly colored memory. It was one of Castiel laughing. Dean couldn’t remember what had been so funny, but he reveled in that face and the joy radiating from it. He lay the photo down on the floor nest to one of the trenchcoated angel wearing his trademark look of polite confusion.

Dean missed castiel. He missed the angel so badly it hurt. He missed Castiel’s lack of understanding of personal space and he missed having to explain to the angel ever time he made a pop culture reference. Dean missed how the angel’s eyes would crinkle when he smiled and how you could tell so much from those blue eyes of his.

Those intense, piercing blue eyes that could unnerve even the boldest of men(or monsters for that matter) were so unbelievably expressive. You could see exactly what Cas was feeling if you knew what to look for. Every emotion seemed to spill out of those pools of blue just like water over-flowing from a glass. All the sadness, pain and doubt. All the hope and love and faith and happiness. Dean longed to look into them again, to lose himself in their depths.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The tears now flowed freely from the hunter’s own green eyes, leaving salty streaks down his cheeks.

This was what he had taken those photos for. He had wanted to save up the memories of that wonderfully normal, happy day. Save them up for a rainy day. To hoard the love and the joy away for when there was a shortage.

Dean picked up Castiel’s trenchcoat again, wanting to lose himself in the scent of his lost love. To pretend, if only for a little while, that Cas was still here with him.

 A piece of paper fell out of the pocket of the coat and fluttered to rest on the bathroom floor. Dean picked it up, marveling that he hadn’t found it before, or that it hadn’t been lost in the lake. Dean turned it over and though it was badly smeared and warped from its time in the lake, Dean still could make out what was on it. The stream of tears started anew as Dean was taken back to that day at the park.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cas had been taking his turn with the camera and was actually having a good time with it, even though he was still slightly confused as to the purpose of the photos.

He had been trying for what seemed like forever to get Dean to actually smile. The hunter was having far too much fun with his “Blue Steel” pose.

“Come on Dean.” Cas had pouted at his hunter, “Just smile once. For me.”

The hunter had sighed and plastered on his “portrait smile.” It wasn’t a fake smile by any means. But it wasn’t a real smile either. Not really. It was a bit emotionless to tell the truth. But it was the only smile Dean could do on command.

Cas gave an exasperated sigh and stood there glaring at the hunter. All he wanted was a true smile! Was that really that much to ask? He was startled out of his fuming by a laugh from Dean.

“You are so adorable when you’re mad Cas.” The hunter had said, his eyes filled with laughter and love.

“I am not  adorable Dean. I’m a warrior of Heaven.” Castiel had put his hands on his hips.

The indignation on the angel’s face had been too much for Dean and he burst into laughter. Several moments later, he looked up to see Castiel snap a picture of him. The angel had an extremely satisfied look on his face and Dean had just known he’d been played.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The photo was so blurred from the water that someone else would probably not been able to tell who it even was. But Dean knew. And it warmed his heart more than he could say that Castiel had kept it and carried it with him in his pocket. Castiel, who had thought the entire exercise pointless, had kept a photo of Dean in his coat pocket and had carried it even after the hunter had thrown him out and abandoned him. Castiel had still kept the picture of Dean. It was in this moment that Dean truly realized just how much the angel, his angel, had loved him.

Dean slowly picked up the photos and the trenchcoat, leaving the bathroom. He replaced the items in this duffel bag and crawled back into bed, quickly slipping into a dreamless sleep, the photo of himself still clutched in his hand.