last summer I saw a giant moth who had fallen into a water trough, and I gently lifted her out so she could dry her wings and fly away. This was an act of great foresight on my part, as I know that one day, when I am in grave danger and all hope is fading…she will appear, and remember me from long ago, and lift me out of the water trough that I have fallen into. I’m telling you, this moth was huge
For those who don't understand the kid is screaming: "I'm here dad! Come here!" His father comes and asks him: "where is your mother?" The kid cries: "she died, she died."
Then the child explains that his foot is injured and his father tries to comfort him.
This is evil. The child literally met his dad at the hospital by accident, he watched his mom die and had to break the news to his father. What kind of power will save these children from this trauma? I know children in gaza are so strong and resilient, but children are children regardless.
Use your voice to end this genocide. Enough, CEASEFIRE NOW!
Im not my blorbo's defence lawyer. I'm their rich mom at parent night and for the money I'm paying this place, my little darling treasure gets to bite as many classmates as they like
Dean doesn’t like the word “boyfriend.” He decides this the second time Cas says it–the first time it was new, shiny, exciting. The second time, he fights the urge to cringe.
It’s not the “boy” part. It’s not. It would have been, for a long time, but he’s dug all that shit up and unpacked all the suitcases. They hold hands in public. They kiss goodbye in front of his coworkers at the garage.
It’s just–not enough. Not nearly. Jack comes home from hanging out with his friends and fills Dean on the gossip and his boyfriend and her girlfriend and–that’s not them. “Boyfriend” feels like a cheap mockery. Like how demons used to tease.
He’s heard “partner.” He’s heard it from Sam, to Eileen, but he doesn’t know how he can stomach it. He’s said that word too many times. I’m Agent Tyler and this is my partner, Agent Perry. This is my partner, Agent Page. My partner, Agent Stills. All lies. Sam says he likes it, that he’s making it mean something real. Besides, Eileen loves it.
Good for them, Dean thinks. It makes his skin crawl.
So he sticks with “boyfriend” and he shrugs off the funny urge to protest every time Cas says it. It makes him happy, and honestly, it’s not like he has an alternative.
It’s a Sunday when he realizes that somehow, Cas does. They’re at the farmer’s market, like Cas is every weekend, but Dean had picked up weekend shifts and missed the past few. Cas is excited the whole way there, telling Dean about how he’d manage to befriend the local honey vendor in his absence, how she’d invited him to a beginner’s apiarist group she helps run. They beeline (heh) to the honey booth as soon as they get there, and the woman–Judith? Janice?–smiles up at them both, hands Cas a jar of honey like she’d been expecting him, and says “Oh, this must be the husband! I’ve heard so much about you.”
STOPPP the aziraphale hate he’s just a careerwoman that is climbing his way to the top and his lumberjack man who wears scarfs (crowley) who understands that life is about the little things (joblessness) is still trying to convince him to not go back to the big city (heaven). And the only way to make them see eye to eye is if they put on the best talent show this town has ever seen (idk like saving the world probably)