you know the song hallelujah? (i heard there was a secret cord/that david played and it pleased the lord) it doesn’t matter which version, they all work, but there’s a moment of like—pure longing in it, when the singer’s repeating hallelujah. hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah. no matter the version of the song, no matter the singer, i always think love feels like that. standing back in a crowded room—a party or a museum or a café—and watching someone you’ve come to love like, apologise to strangers for almost tripping over their bag, or laugh with a friend, or scratch a old dog’s ears. the defeat in it, almost. you love them. of course you do. hallelujah. hallelujah. hallelujah.
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Over the years Castiel has come to the realization that, when it comes to expressing love for one another, humans have perfected thousands of different ways to make those around them know about their feelings for them. Ways, many of them, that go beyond words, a thing that he is thankful for, since those aren’t really his forte. However, since he was completely new to what humans wanted to express half of the time and their acts to do so, most of them, of course, and in spite of his remarkable observation skills, flew over his head.
He has learned many of them by now, well mostly he has learned the ones Dean uses the most. He is the one human he has spent more time around, after all, the human he has observed more too, out of duty, and out of that amazingly scary need to be close to him. He has developed his own, too. Gestures that go beyond grand sacrifices in the midst of battle, his usual style. Everyday, mundane things, like a kiss on the cheek or reading a line of a book out loud just because he thinks Dean might like it too. None of them, physical or not in nature, involve him dying. Again.
He pushes the shopping cart, amusedly following an enthusiastic Dean down the store’s aisle, “ -and do you remember the pasta dish I prepared for you the other day?” Dean asks, zig-zagging from one side to the other, picking different products and putting them in their rapidly-filling cart, “well, I think I’ve found a way to improve the recipe.”
Food. That’s one of the ways Dean has to let you know he loves you. Growing up knowing it was a luxury he cannot afford means now that he can afford it he has set his mind to the task of trying every recipe he finds or he thinks of. An effort invigorated by his absolute disgust at almost anything Castiel mentions to have tried or liked when he had his first contact with humanity. “I’m telling you, man, fries and honey are a crime against humanity.”
“It is already amazing, Dean.” He enjoys the shy smile that gets him, the light pink shade Dean’s cheeks turn at his word. Words of encouragement, Castiel loves them, praising the one that never was, even if he was a selfless hero sacrificing all he was and all he had for the world. “I can’t wait to try it.”
Dean walks closer to him, stops beside him and bumps their shoulders together, as much as he relies on touch to express himself this is all he lets the world around them see outside of the safety of their own home, Castiel is fine with that, whatever Dean is comfortable with he is okay with it too. His eyes do all the talking for him anyway, they wander across his face, as the most loving caress, they stop on his lips, as the gentlest kiss.
“C’mon,” Dean clears his throat, walking ahead once more, “let’s get you those fancy cereals you like so much.” Castiel shakes his head and follows suit, smiling softly. Dean always seems to remember every little detail he discovers about Castiel, no matter how silly it is.
“I better not see you stealing a bowl after saying that.” He likes the light banter too, the inside jokes, the little jabs, the amused look Dean gives him over his shoulder.
He will, he is sure, just as he will use Castiel’s coconut-scented shampoo after mocking him about it, like he won’t notice when he holds him close in bed after they share a kiss and a couple of ‘I love you’ s that cement the feeling behind every one of their gestures.
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Blind!Grian using watcher sight all I can think about is like a weirdly paranoid Martyn trying to prove Grian is nefarious or isn’t just insanely perceptive so he throws stuff at Grian’s head trying to get him to slip up but Grian keeps expertly dodging them until Scar walks in then Grian gets absolutely nailed in the face by a stapler or something -🎶 anon
YES!! martyn has a cork board with pictures and red yarn and he’s trying so hard to get people to realise that grian can see!! he promises, guys! just look!! here martyn will throw a stapler and grian will catch it!!
grian only ever dodges stuff when no one else in the room, as soon as somebody walks in, he gets hit and looks like a foot away from where martyn is actually standing and sadly asks why he did that :((..
scar always takes grian into his arms and consoles him while glaring daggers at martyn. grian smiles very smugly right at him because no one will ever believe him, while cuddling into scar’s embrace <3
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Kinn is in love with Porsche. Porsche is in love with Kinn.
Kim is in love with Chay’s innocence. Chay is in love with the Kim that exists in his head.
Vegas is in love with Pete’s empathy. Pete is in love with easing Vegas’s pain—the kind of pain he knows all too well.
Case in point: right now, KP are in love with each other, but KC and VP are only in love with certain aspects of each other.
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