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Pasta is my religion.

HOT NOODLES

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Count on me (and nesn) to show everyone The Hug

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I love you, Fleury.

🌼🌸 FLOWER POWER 🌼🌸

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My emotional health relies on him and Cheeks.

He’s very important to me but

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the boston bruins as out of context puppet history moments

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I’m sad so I’m gonna re-read Winterlude again.

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But I just don’t finish liking him!

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The worst of the Bruins game wasn’t losing to Bruce’s team. It was seeing my ex on TV behind fucking Bruce Cassidy.

I’m being serious. I saw my fucking ex and I don’t wanna tell my fiancé.

I even took a screenshot of the motherfucker.

#bostonbruins #bruce cassidy #boston bruins #i saw my ex and i hated every second.

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Not our first at home loss being the revenge of Bruce Cassidy

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Apparently I’m not the only one who hates him.

Me getting ready to watch the bruins :

Me remembering I have to see Bruce Cassidy tonight behind the Vegas bench:

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Libby Frame on Instagram

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LITTLE CHATS • 24 MAR 2022

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the year is 2012.

I have two tabs open. one is tumblr. I am 160 posts back on my dashboard - I have made it back to the place I left off the night before.

satisfied, I open the second tab to pull up a post-avengers fanfic. everyone lives together in stark tower - each of them has their own floor. for no explained reason, loki shares thor’s. no one questions that he has not been arrested. the team has friday evening movie nights. at breakfast, thor eats all of tony’s pop tarts.

I am content.

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christian brailey - douglas fir house

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My piece for @destielzine / Endings Fix-it Zine!

I haven’t participated in a zine in years, but when I heard about this one I knew I wanted to be a part of it ! As I thought of how I would have liked Supernatural to end, I realized I just wanted Dean and Cas to be able to settle down somewhere and fix up a place. They went through so much in the show, I definitely think they deserve the chance to take it easy.

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On Sundays, Cas tends to the garden.

It’s the one day of the week he’s out of bed before Dean. Sometimes he’s up at the crack of dawn and his side of the bed will be cold by the time Dean wakes up. Then, when Dean finally gets up and drags his ass to the kitchen for his morning cup of coffee, he’ll look out the window and see Cas kneeling in the dirt outside, pulling weeds or planting something or whatever it is he spends hours out there doing. 

He’s usually not done until lunchtime. His hands will be covered in dirt when he comes back inside, because for some reason he considers gardening gloves optional, and Dean will make him wash them thoroughly before he’s allowed to touch anything.

You couldn’t tell by first glance how many hours of work have gone into that garden. It looks unkempt, like whatever’s sprouted there has been allowed to grow undisturbed. According to Cas that’s the way it’s meant to be and Dean’s not gonna argue, not while Cas keeps him well supplied with fresh herbs and apples in the fall.

It’s not fall yet, though. Right now it’s summer and the heat is already getting to be too much by midmorning. Dean looks out, at Cas crouching by the flowerbeds and the sun streaming on his uncovered head, and feels a twinge of worry.

It’s not like Cas can actually get sunstroke. He’s probably not even uncomfortable. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to check on him, maybe bring him some lemonade.

Cas is so engrossed in his work, he doesn’t look up when Dean approaches.

Dean clears his throat.

“Yes?” Cas says, still not looking up.

“You thirsty?”

At that, Cas raises his head. He looks Dean over, slowly, eyes finally coming to a stop on the glass in his hand.

“I just figured,” Dean says, feeling a little stupid now that he’s outside and can see how fine Cas is. He’s not even sweating. “It’s so hot out.”

Cas smiles, not looking like he thinks it’s a stupid idea at all. “That’s considerate of you.”

He puts his spade down and on instinct, Dean holds out a hand to help him up.

“It’s alright,” Cas says, getting up on his own. “My hands are very dirty right now, I know you don’t like me to touch anything before I clean them.”

Dean bites back a grin. Reaches out, and takes Cas’ dirty hand in his. It’s a little cool from rooting around in the soil.

“That’s the kitchen, dumbass,” he tells Cas. “You can get me as dirty as you want.”

And just to bring the point home, he raises Cas’ hand, guiding it to cup his face. Cas lets out a shaky exhale, stroking his thumb softly across Dean’s cheek before leaning in for a kiss.