The sparrow flies south for winter.

I still don't trust Stella. But I also can't trust myself. 'Cause I am jealous. I have fallen for Min Ho. A little bit. Or a lot.

I’m coming with you.

spn hiatus creations | week 14 ↳ castiel

Dean’s Henleys 

You don’t have to feel like it’s true. You don’t have to believe it. It doesn’t matter. I sure as hell didn’t. Don’t, even. Present-tense, some days. All the “it gets better” shit sounds like crap, and it never really stops sounding a bit phony, but here’s the thing:

“Better” doesn’t mean happy-go-lucky perfect, on top of the world forever and always. It just means “better”. One day you’re walking to a bus stop in the freezing rain after a bad day and realize you’re actually kind of glad you didn’t die in your sleep when you wanted to. You catch yourself excited for something and it surprises you, cause you didn’t think you could still feel excitement anymore. You fuck something up and manage to shrug it off instead of hating yourself, and you notice.

So you feel worthless. You’re probably gonna feel worthless for a long time. You’re probably gonna feel worthless tomorrow, and the day after that, and a week from now. Maybe in a month, or a year.

But, and speaking as a 🌟 clinically depressed nightmare🌟, that feeling isn’t real.

We invented the concept of “value” and “worth”, so it’s not a fact of the universe. It’s not an objective truth. If there is no cosmic force that’s decided you alone are special and the best, then there’s also no faceless void that has chosen you to be the worst.

You’ve been birthed into the cosmos without your consent and all you’re really obligated to do at the end of the day is keep your body running so you can fuck around. That’s it.

And step one of having fun with it is not regurgitating the self-hating crap your brain likes to generate.

Yeah, it feels true, but it isn’t, and saying it out loud or writing it down or reading it over and over again on a screen isn’t going to do anything but force you further into that belief.

I like to say I’m fantastic. I’m godlike. I’ve never done anything wrong and I’m never gonna die. I’m the big dick wizard of sexy man Nation and my grilled cheese could make the pope weep.

Is it true? Fuck no. But it’s fun, and it makes me laugh at myself, and if I’m gonna say things that aren’t true then why say things that feel like shit? Why not feel better?

So yeah, actually, I may have fucked up with that edit. Here’s a better one:

You can practically see Emma falling more in love with Killian in that very second. He genuinely cares for Henry, isn’t simply using him as means to get to Emma, and it hits her like a ton of bricks. Killian’s not just in it for her - he’s in it for both Emma and her boy. And for a moment, the emotional impact of that overwhelms her.

[scene request by @phiralovesloki]

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