Black Sabbath | Black Sabbath
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you are sam winchester and everyone you love ends up dead because of you. your mother burns on the ceiling. your girlfriend burns on the ceiling. your college friends were puppets planted there for you. the people underneath the demons are long gone. your brother stabs your childhood friend. you get reunited with an old flame. she chokes in front of you. a gift to you. a message to you. you are responsible for your loved ones dying. you meet a hunter and she gives you hope that you could build something real and lasting, but she is killed and you know it was your fault. she would have been fine if she hadn't met you. she comes back and gets taken away again. you're destined to kill the one person who's ever understood you in your entirety with no judgment. you still think about jessica. your hell is right here you are cursed to kill and kill and kill.
you are dean winchester and your loved ones keep killing themselves for you. they die and they die and they die and it's all for you. not just because of but for you. offerings of devotion that make you want to repay the favor but you keep springing back up like a grotesque clown in a box. your curse is to keep on living and living, carrying them within you. an altar stained with their sacrifice. an obscene fire sustained against your will by the corpses of your loved ones.
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it's not gay if he's your brother 🙄😮💨 can't believe i have to keep explaining this to people
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Just a reminder that this pic exists 🖤
I know it's probably just J2M goofing on set, but it looks like Sam ,Dean and Cas having fun cause of their outfits.
Probably the only pic we have where the characters look genuinely happy
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now all i can think about is Dean being a teeny tiny bit cross eyed. Insanity inducing
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i love the little things about dean that don't get mentions in the usual love posts. i love his zigzaggy hairline in his side profile. i love his eye bags. i love that he wears a wristwatch and doesn’t rely on just his phone. i love his scrunchy face. i love that he makes fun of sam’s hair yet he himself must use so much product to keep his quiff neat and upright. i love that he either trims his own hair every month or so or goes to a hairdresser every month or so to keep it short. i love his stimming. i love his pouty face. i love his dimples of discontent. i love that he has novelty clothes and cutoff denim shorts. i love his old man status. i love how he confides in cas and trusts cas. i love his obsession with the impala. i love his excitement for the holidays and birthdays in that one episode in season 15. i love his mentor and teacher mode. i love how good with kids he is. i love how gentle he can be. i love his freakouts. i love his concave teeth. i love his love for scoobydoo. i love all his bits.
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dean may be a clean freak in the streets but he's a freak minus the clean in the sheets. like yeh don't drop crumbs in the impala and don't leave dirty dishes around the bunker and he's not gonna use that sticky payphone without a wetwipe and monsters and witches with their bodily fluids will never not gross him out. but cas can come in his ass or over his lips and there can be a mess of lube and sweat and come dirtying up his skin and the sheets but he'll just curl up like a cat against cas' chest and slip into the best sleep he's had in months.
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I think there’s something to be said about the true nature of Jack coming into the world. The horror and the despair that shook the world with his birth.
Dean, for instance. He’d lost the love of his life, and there, standing in front of him: his love’s child, forced to grow up too fast. Humans seek out patterns— they fall so easily into them— and suddenly, Dean was John, and Jack was Dean. A father who’d lost his partner; a child who’d lost their childhood.
And none of this was Jack’s fault. Never. Most of it was Dean’s, actually, despite my love for him and his character. Dean needed something familiar in this cruel new world. In this harsh turn of events. So he turned to his old family dynamics. He was his father; Jack was not his son. The same as it had been before, for himself, all those years ago. Jack was a soldier, in his eyes, never more.
And Jack never had a younger sibling (not one that he ever got to know, anyways) but that didn’t stop him from caring. And did he ever care. He cared for everyone— the whole world— but all Dean could see was his childhood self, with his unending love and hope, and all Dean could be was the boot his father was, the boot that crushed that hope and twisted it into hate.
Sam, of course, didn’t have the connections Dean did. Never had. He saw a child, forced to grow up too soon, and thought, ‘I need to care for that.’ Same as Dean would, under any other circumstance— we’ve seen how he is with kids in past seasons. But once again, Dean was destroyed, and fell back into those hurtful, terrible patterns. And Jack and Sam were dragged into it.
A toxic family, that could do little more than stand each other. A toxic family, that wept for the lives they could’ve had together, if only they had the strength, and that one, missing piece.
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