#love & anarchy

[myriadism]

Original poetry, DO NOT repost! PLEASE reblog instead <3

Dear ------,

If I do not love you it is because

you are in good company.

I have not loved many a great people.

More than enough including myself.

Or I have loved but

incorrectly.

Or I have loved but

not the way you wanted.

Or I have loved but

have not wanted.

Or the only idea worse, than the idea that I never loved you,

is the idea that I did love you and it wasn’t enough.

.

The only idea worse than that is the idea that I won’t love—ever.

There are many a great worse

ideas about love.

.

If I do not love you it is because

I mean what I say.

And what I mean to say is that

I’m not sure what I mean to say about love is more imprecise a word than set.

What I mean to say is that

love does not speak to me in my own language.

What I mean to say

is that I say love is a dragonfly’s wing.

I say love is a better hunter than I.

I say love is for the silent times of morning before dawn and love is for daybreak and love is for midnight and twilight and late afternoon shadows

it is for shirtless cooking, it is for study dates, it is for small creatures and strong stomachs and old pillowcases.

Love is best friends with the way I still save my soda can tabs.

Love is in love with the holes my toenails poke through all my socks.

Love hates me less than I do.

.

And I have loved my friend

And I have loved my neighbor

and I have loved stranger, weirder, dark moon loves. Queerer and curious and not a single time pure, loves that have fallen upon me in torrents, in sun-showers and droughts, loves that you sneeze at during pollen season, flaxen-spun cattails of love bits drifting down the river of memory.

.

And if I do not love you, the way that you wanted me to love you

it is ok.

I’m not sorry,

but at least you will be just fine.

***

Dear ------,

Democratize love!!

I want to speak of love that never kisses on the mouth!

I want to speak of love without romance, without blood, without bounds or bonds or necessities

tell me of intimacy

by a street riot in protest of the oppression

in a text message, a cup of tea, a silent shoulder on an overcast day.

The love of the laundry doers, gardeners and dish washers, the person who remembers when it’s time to rotate the car tires.

Tell me of love like reading a dictionary only don’t stop after one definition.

Read out a phonebook of your love. Analyze it, quantify and document it, consecrate it, defile your love, pull it into shreds and reweave it, glorious ravaged and new.

.

let us speak of peak physical intimacy like a packed kitchen or one hammock to share or a car ride that is too long but still comfortable.

The way a person can be inside your skin without touching you, even from across the world over. A hand to help you up. A form guiding you with patience through unpracticed movement. Brushing and braiding hair. A grip on the back of the neck, on your shoulder, over your knee. Dancing. Dancing again. A warm body sitting just close enough to feel even though it doesn’t touch you at all. Or the weight of a whole person laying on top of you, face into your neck. Resting your head in the lap. Talking with hands gesture shaping the same space. Face to face, eye to eye together. Or back to back. Or one reaching out the other reaching back. The connection of acknowledgement. A nod. A high five through the air. The secret language of your looks. The shared food. The easiness of cohabitation.

The convenience of joy.

The way it is supposed to be for you. Without pressure offered with questions and acceptance and partnership for investigative discovery.

.

I want love anarchy!

Love un-assimilation! Love self-determination!

Love revolution!

Love choice,

love chosen

and re-chosen over

and over again. 

[echosghoast]

Make the whole world aromantic!

- my 12 year old brother

[mowapina]

the panty and stocking fanart from 2022 that got people on tiktok arguing cuz i said that they're gonna come back

[solar-sunnyside-up]

You can try and tell me people are inherently bad but I will never believe it, not for a second. Not when the only reason any of us are here is because we've shared resources, information, stories and small joys, and terrible heartbreaks, and hope.

Because all of this- from the first loaf of bread to the phones and internet we are collectively reading this on is only standing because we stood together.

[becauseplot]

qPhilza perching on people because bird

qFit: Mans is built like a brick shithouse—he can totally balance Phil’s additional weight. The first attempt is a bit shaky, sure, but nowadays Phil swoops down or hops up onto Fit’s shoulder and all Fit really has to do is jut out his elbow to give his friend a little more space for his talons to work with. Bam, he’s perched. Works out about 9.9 times out of 10, though Phil delights in trying to catch him off guard.

qEtoiles: He doesn’t have Fit’s bulk on his side, so he’s not as sturdy, but he is strong. The landing is usually a little rough since Etoiles has to work a bit harder to counterbalance the additional weight, but he always finds that center of gravity in no time flat. Phil usually perches with one talon on each of Etoiles’ shoulders since he’s not as w i d e, just so Phil can have a little extra grip. At some point, Etoiles tries fighting a mob while Phil is perched on him, and that goes exactly as well as you would expect.

qForever: Honestly, with all of the hard labor Forever does for his big builds, Phil was expecting him to do better, but the first (several) attempts end up with Forever stumbling over and knocking Phil off of him from his wild arm-pinwheeling. They eventually figure out it’s more doable if Forever himself has something to lean on (a wall, a chair, the butt of his pickaxe) and Phil puts one talon evenly spaced on each shoulder. Phil learns some new swears in Portuguese in the process.

qMissa: Flattened. Full-on face in the floor, mouth full of grass, wind knocked out of his lungs at Mach 5 the first time Phil tries. Phil apologizes profusely, but Missa—once he can breathe again—just rolls over onto his back and asks Phil if they can give it another try. It takes a long, LONG time, but they figure out that if Phil plants his talons on Missa’s shoulder pads and leans forward while Missa leans back, they have a small little window of time where they achieve balance. The best part? Phil gets a perfect view of Missa’s goofy little grin every single time.

[carnevol]

Jax Teller (Sons of Anarchy) | Benny Cross (The Bikeriders)

[laddercat]

doodles cause i'm crazy

[skinkmi]

[justanoasisimagines]

Hello Darlin'

Summary; Jax writes you a letter while in Prision. Pairing; Jax Teller x Female Reader Warnings; Strong Language

I know you've been busy with the kids and everything else while I've been stuck in this shithole. We're working on getting out of here but it's taking longer than planned. Shit has gone south.

I'm still counting down the days until I see your gorgeous face. It's the only thing keeping going. Apart from the kids of course.

Are the kids behaving themselves? Remember if you need a break or their getting under your feet, just take them over to my Mom's. She'll gladly take them for a few hours. Spoil them rotten and all.

I've sent you a visiting order so I can talk to you in person. Our phone calls aren't cutting it anymore.

Love you Darlin'

Jax

[arowitharrows]

These are some links to recourses on different topics, mostly things I want to be able to find again so I'm collecting them here. Please be aware that many of these articles include discussions of queerphobia, racism or abuse. I can't put warnings on every link, so proceed with caution. This is not meant to be a complete or final list, I will most likely be editing it as time goes by.

Aspec terminology / Flags

Queerplatonic coining post on dreamwidth (x)

Sunset aroace flag original post (x)

A History Of Words Used To Describe People That Are Not Asexual (x)

Discussions of aphobia

Note: I am still waiting for the day when aphobia can be discussed without aromanticism being treated as a subcategory of asexuality.

Stonewall report on asexual discrimination, UK 2023 (x)

Scientific America article on medical stigma against asexuality, USA 2023 (x)

Article about the religious right attacking sexless marriage, USA (x)

Podcast about the religious right attacking platonic marriages and general analysis about why the religious right hate asexuality (and aromanticism), USA part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

Amatonormativity

Website of Elizabeth Brake, the coiner of the term Amatonormativity (x)

Amatonormativity in the law: an introduction, USA 2022 (x)

Opinion: I grew up in a culture that embraced physical touch. Then I came to America, Ethiopia 2023(x)

'I Dont Want To be a Playa No More': An Exploration of the Denigrating effects of 'Player' as a Stereotype Against African American Polyamorous Men (x)

Romance is not the only type of Black love that matters by Sherronda J. Brown, USA 2018 (x)

Relationship Anarchy

Relationship Anarchy, Occupy intimacy!, Spain 2020 (x) also available in Spanish and catalan

The short instructional manifesto for relationship anarchy (x)

Tumblr post with multiple links about relationship anarchy (x)

Marriage and being Single

Ted talk: how romance and capitalism could destroy our future, 2014 (x)

The escalating costs of being single in America, USA 2021 (x)

Unmarried equality, many articles about discrimination against single people. USA focused (x)

No Shelter for Singles: The Perceived Legitimacy of Marital Status Discrimination, USA 2011 (x)

Loveless Aro

I Am Not Voldemort: An Essay on Love and Amatonormativity (x)

Aroworlds loveless Aro friendly fiction collection (x)

Loveless Aro experiences and explanations (post0 aurea article post 1 post 2 post 3 post 4 post 5 post 6)

[gothidecorem]

I currently have no words, just consistent happy internalized screeching

Here is the reel in question

[thisreadswhatever]

Only Mine

find my masterlist here

[description]: jax teller x fem!reader

[wordcount]: 2.4k

[cw]: 18+ only, smut, jealous overprotective Jax, angst, short fight scene (if you can even call it that), car sex, oral f receiving, teasing, unfinished sex

[authors note]: I had this idea floating around for awhile and then this request inspired the rest! thank you!

“I’m sure you say that to all the ladies.” 

You were along the bar, chin in palm, blinking your lashes at the man sitting beside you. He smiled back wryly. He was pretty perfect. Clean cut, slightly muscular, no tats covering him from top to bottom, no bike sitting in the parking lot. He was a little cocky, aware of his good looks, and in all honesty, any other day he’d be the type of guy you’d usually find pretty boring. But for tonight, he’d be a welcome distraction. 

“So you’re really here alone?” the man asked, looking around as he took a sip from the glass in front of him. 

You smiled back, twisting a strand of hair into your fingers as you sipped your beer, “that surprise you?” 

“Someone like you doesn’t come around here often. Can't imagine you haven’t been snatched up yet.” 

Technically, he was right. Jax and you hadn’t spoken in days, and although the mutual silence was a regular occurrence, you somehow always found a way back to each other. It never had been made ‘official’, but it never really needed to be. You both stuck to each other like the end poles of magnets, impossible to keep apart yet impossible to stay together. You and Jax were a burning flame amongst a sea of trees condemned to an endless drought. Your love was toxic and infuriating, and it pained you both how hurtful you could be to one another. Yet for some reason, you always went back. You’d reconnect, one of you would fuck up, and then it was back to square one all over again. 

“Haven’t found the one yet”, you teased. 

He gestured to the bartender with his hand, “can I buy you another beer?” 

You smiled politely back at him, “you can buy me as many as you want.”

You picked up your drink and pulled his hand with your other as you led him to one of the quiet booths settled at the back of the bar. You spent the next hour cosying up to your stranger, soaking in the attention he gave you. He was overly attentive and extremely polite, almost a little too nice for your liking. No roughness on the edges, no fight in him. Just a gentleman through and through. You sat inches from each other, tension building as the drinks continued to appear. 

“Can I kiss you?” The man asked as he leaned in, hovering above your face. It wasn’t often you were asked to be kissed. You stared into his eyes through your long lashes, nodding in approval.

He smiled shyly into your lips as they pressed against his. He was gentle, his hands slowly moving to your waist, never straying further. 

He laid back into the bench, taking a sip from his beer. “You know I never did catch your name.” 

You didn’t want to share anything with this stranger, the anonymity bringing less questions and expectations. 

“Later.” 

You cupped his face in your hand, grazing his jaw with your fingertips as you brought his mouth to yours again.

He was nice, but the longer you spent kissing your gentle stranger, the more you yearned to be in the hands of your depraved biker. Jax was urgent and desperate for you each time you were in his arms. There was a mutual desire that turned you both into crazed maniacs when you were together. It was something you’d searched for every time you were with someone else, because nobody you’d ever come across had given you that same feeling. 

Jax had a way of turning you into the only girl in the world. Until he was fucking the next croweater who threw themselves at him the following day. 

Tonight, you were going to allow yourself to enjoy the gentlemen in front of you. You leaned back into the bench, trying to edge him on top of you as you sunk into the bench against his lips.

You were so entangled in your stranger that you never even noticed him arrive with half of The Club. It wasn’t until you were interrupted by the break in your lips as he was pulling the man off you by his shirt, forcing him to the floor as he was knocked flat on his back. 

“Jax!”

“Dude! What the fu-“ he tried to stand up, but Jax placed his shoe directly on his chest, crushing him to the ground. The man grunted under the weight, failing to pry the shoe off of him. “What the fuck are you doing!?”

“What do you think you’re doing?” He pressed down into the man’s chest harder, restraining himself from crushing his rib cage all together. 

The stranger looked at you with wide eyes, trying to speak through the force compounding his lungs, “she said she was alone!” 

Jax smiled at him as he laid spread out on the dirty bar floor. 

“I don’t give shit what she said. Your time is up, pretty boy.”  

You were ashamed to admit that you thoroughly enjoyed watching Jax furious with envy over you, but you did feel bad for the innocent guy beneath his sneaker. 

“Get the fuck off him, Jax.” 

He glanced up at you, taking a long look at your flushed pink cheeks and swollen lips.

The crowded bar was now zoned in on your table, watching and entertained by the drama unfolding. Chibs, Juice and Bobby guarded the table, ensuring no onlookers got in the way of Jax’s jealous fuelled rage. 

He picked the man up by his collar, pulling him to his feet as he threw him against the wall. Jax gripped at his jaw, lifting his chin to force his eyes towards you at the bench. “I suggest you apologise for bothering my girl.” 

“Jax don’t be ridiculous-“ 

He ignored you, glaring at the man in his grasp, tightening the grip on his collar. 

“I’m sorry, okay!” 

“Not to me, asshole. To her.” 

You rolled your eyes, watching as he tormented the innocent stranger you had set yourself upon.

“I’m sorry I bothered you.” His voice cracked from the hold Jax had on his collar, draining the circulation from his neck.

Jax shoved the man off the wall, releasing him as he was once again flown across the laminate. He stumbled to regain his balance before he started running, bolting for the exit. He disappeared at the speed of light, chuckles from Juice and Chibs echoing through the bar as he ran. 

You stood up from the bench, storming off in anger for the door. 

Jax followed you into the empty, dark car park outside the bar. His hands stuffed into his pockets as he watched you slump against the brick wall, sliding down to sit on the pavement. You put a cigarette to your mouth as you searched for a lighter in your bag. You hadn’t felt tipsy until the air hit you, realising your head was spinning.

He paced over to you, crouching forward with his lighter, igniting the cigarette between your lips. 

“You’re such a prick sometimes, you know that?” 

Jax slid down the wall beside you, his legs bent slightly at the knees as he sighed to himself, lighting his own cigarette. “Not gonna argue with that.” 

He exhaled a large cloud of smoke as he spoke, “but you were basically fucking that guy in an open bar, y/n.” 

“First of all, no I wasn’t.” 

He chuckled, amused by your irritation. 

“And second of all, what the fuck has that got to do with you? You’re the one who decided to get knee deep in Ima last week, again.” 

“I told you I was drunk.” 

“And now I’m drunk too”, you protested.

He shook his head as smoke escaped his lips, fingers twirling the silver lighter in his hands. “That isn’t going to happen again.”

Your head fell back as you groaned at his promise, leaning against the hard brick behind you. “Yeah, ‘cause I haven’t heard that one before.” 

He smiled, nudging your leg with his playfully. “You know I mean it. Doesn’t matter who I’m inside, there's only one face I see.” 

You turned your head towards him, leaning your face on his shoulder. “I’m tired of this, Jax. You and your mommy issues are giving me whiplash.” 

“Yeah, well your baggage ain’t so easy to handle either.” He placed a hand over the back of your head, stroking your hair as he spoke.

You responded with a punch to his knee, swaying his leg. “You can’t just keep beating men up because they’re interested in me. That guy was actually sweet.” 

He threw his cigarette across the pavement before he grasped his hands into your hair, entangling his fingers between the strands. He crushed his lips against yours, his tongue lapping into your mouth. His fingers smoothed against your face, the feeling of his cold rings brushing against your cheek. Your foreheads connected as your eyes closed, resting silently along each other. “I can be sweet too.” 

You chuckled, playfully biting his lip. “You’re a sweet, jealous prick, Teller.”

He pulled into you once more, pecking your lips slowly before escalating into your lips, pulling you on top of him. You straddled him there in the lot, surrounded by empty parked cars in the dead of night. His hands gripped at your waist, pulling your body tighter to him, the feeling of his erection pressing into your jeans. Your hands twisted into his hair, holding his head against yours. He smirked against your lips, trailing his hands lower to your ass, as he secured his hands in your back pockets. He stroked your cheek with his nose, kissing the pink tinted skin.

“I just don’t like sharing what’s mine.” 

Your mouth found his as you raised your eyebrows, mumbling into his lips, “then take what's yours.”

He grinned, lifting you in one swift motion from his lap, standing you up against him. He pulled you across the parking lot as you stumbled drunk, trying to keep up. He led you to your car, opened the back door and pushed you flat against the back seat. 

Jax laid above you, planting himself between your legs. He angled himself between the seats, crushing his mouth against yours. His touch was ravenous, ripping the buttons from your jeans waistband as he pulled the denim from your ass. You giggled as he struggled to get them off entirely between the leather of the flat seat. You lifted yourself up, helping as he removed them. He pulled at your shirt, lifting it higher to expose the skin around your stomach as he leaned into you, gnawing at the skin in short pecks from your navel to your now exposed panties. You grasped at his hair as he claimed you with his warm mouth, suffocating himself into the fabric that covered your mound. 

“Jesus Christ, you’re fucking soaked for me.” He groaned at the taste of your slick pooling into the cotton, pulling your panties to the side. He circled his tongue against your clit, watching you, utterly mesmerised as you whimpered at the sensation. He rolled his thumb against your dripping fold, “this pretty cunt is mine.” 

Vibrations filled your entire being as he nuzzled into your mound, lapping his tongue repeatedly against your slick, his hands lifting your ass to push deeper into you. You tugged at the roots of his blonde hair, drunken moans of his name filling the car park as you struggled to keep quiet. He pulled away, his face glistening from your juices as he smirked at you, caressing his fingers against your pussy. “You want your sweet guy to finish you off?”

Your head fell back at the taunt, “c’mon Jax, don’t- stop-”

He pulled your panties down your ass, exposing your cunt entirely. His tongue stroked you, prodding at your swollen nub, before hesitating again. “Tell me you’re mine.” 

“Fuck, Jax- I’m- yours. I’m only yours.” The words trailed slowly from your gritted teeth, your head swirling from the feeling and the beer. You chased for his mouth, drawing your hips up closer to his face.

“Look at me when you tell me.”

You used all your might to lift your head from the seat, finding his eyes staring into yours, fire blazing within them. You spoke between your sharpened breaths, trying to form a coherent sentence. “I said- I’m yours.”

“I can’t hear you, darlin’. You’re only what?” 

Your head collapsed into the leather seat, cries escaping your lips as you squirmed your hips higher to find his mouth again. “I’m yours- Jax- shit-”

“That’s my pretty girl.” 

He stoked his tongue against your clit, enjoying every moment as you pleaded through your moans for him to take you to your climax. He was revelling in your anguish as he teased at your cunt. He played with your folds again, his fingers caressing the soaking skin. 

“No other man comes near my pussy, isn’t that right?”

You groaned in response, his claim on you sending you further into spiral. “No- no one else.”

His lips reconnected to your cunt, whimpers of desperation pouring from your lips. His fingers finally found your entrance, rewarding you as he slid into your seam, pushing you towards your release. 

He muttered into your mound, “you only cum for me.”

Your body exploded at his instruction, collapsing onto his fingers as they curled against your sweet spot, his mouth soaking in your orgasm. He delighted at your unravelling, his hands travelling your body as he found your breasts, kneading into the soft skin.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Let go for me.” Your thighs shook around his face uncontrollably, squeezing his head into your cunt.

He released his hand from your mound, hovering over you as his lips laid flush against yours. He danced around your mouth, forcing you to taste your slick that covered his tongue. Jax straddled over your hips, holding himself up against the headrest of the seat as his throbbing cock found your entrance. He positioned himself, sliding between the folds, a squeal escaping your throat as he filled you entirely. 

Before he could fuck you senseless, a loud repeated bang was heard against the hood of the car, startling you both.

“Jackie boy! We gotta go!”

Jax collapsed against you, groaning in frustration. If you weren’t so drunk from Jax and the beer, you would’ve been furious. Instead you giggled, amused by the interruption, “Chib’s and his impeccable timing.” He sighed, his head resting against your chest. 

He pulled out from you, as you rushed to put your underwear back in its place. He smirked against your mouth as he kissed you one last time, parting your lips between his, "guess I’ll just have to finish claiming you later.”

read part two here

[s0fter-sin]

one of my favourite aspects of supernatural that you very rarely see in paranormal shows is that sam and dean are already versed in the world they live in. there’s no sudden discovery of ghosts and demons and now they have to learn about them along with the audience; they are born into it and already know all about it. it allows the audience to follow their personal story instead of also trying to figure out this new world and its rules

the first season is full of knowledge we never see them learn; “w*ndigoes are in the minnesota woods or- or northern michigan. i’ve never even heard of one this far west.” […] “great. well then this [his gun] is useless.” (1x02), “you don’t break a curse. you get the hell out of its way.” (1x08), d: “it’s a god. a pagan god, anyway.” […] “the annual cycle of its killings? and the fact that the victims are always a man and a woman. like some kind of fertility right.” […] s: “the last meal. given to sacrificial victims. d: “yeah, i’m thinking a ritual sacrifice to appease some pagan god.” (1x11)

almost every episode in the first season is a monster they’ve faced before that they then explain to the audience in a way that should feel patronising; like it’s the same speech given over and over again but instead, the audience almost feels included in the knowledge. it’s stated with such an innate confidence and comfort in said knowledge that it feels like we already knew it too; “spirits and demons don't have to unlock doors. if they want inside, they just go through the walls.” […] “the claws, the speed that it moves; could be a skinwalker, maybe a black dog.” (1x02), “it's biblical numerology. you know noah's ark, it rained for forty days. the number means death.” (1x04), “no no no, not the reaper, a reaper. there's reaper lore in pretty much every culture on earth, it goes by 100 different names.” […] “you said it yourself that the clock stopped, right? reapers stop time. and you can only see 'em when they're coming at you which is why i could see it and you couldn't.” (1x12)

they already know and, at least in the first season, already have what they need to kill whatever they’re hunting; already know to salt and burn bones for spirits, fire for a w*ndigo, exorcisms for demons, a silver bullet to the heart for shapeshifters. there’s only three times in the entire first season that they run into something new to them; 1x14 when sam gets his first vision that leads him to another psychic, 1x16 when dean calls caleb for help on the sigil he put together and he tells him about daevas, and 1x20 when they find out vampires are real- and they only don’t know that bc john thought they were hunted to extinction and not worth mentioning

(there’s also technically two half instances if you count one of them knowing something the other doesn’t - sam figuring out the tulpa in 1x17 and dean already knowing about the shtriga in 1x18 - but those still rely on sam and dean having prior knowledge)

even when they’re uncertain about facing something, it’s not bc they don’t know what it is; it’s precisely bc they know what it is and acknowledge that it’ll be a difficult hunt (“i don't know, man. this isn't our normal gig. i mean, demons, they don't want anything, just death and destruction for its own sake. this is big. and i wish dad was here.” 1x04)

so much of the tension in paranormal shows typically comes from the main character(s) not knowing what is happening to them/the people around them and having to find out how to resolve it. supernatural is unique in that it operates more like a police procedural. the tension comes from solving the clues and identifying patterns to figure out who (what) the killer is and intercepting before they can take another victim

it’s such a different tone to go for when compared to other shows that came both before, during, and after its run. it sets sam and dean on even footing with each other since they both have the same knowledge going in, and it puts them in a place of authority usually reserved for an outside character

the shows i compare spn to most is charmed, buffy and teen wolf; every main character in those shows are brought into the paranormal world knowing nothing, putting them on the same level as the audience, and they have their mc interact with others already knowledgeable about that world in order to overcome their problem/monster of the week. the audience organically learns about this new world as the characters learn about it. it’s a sound writing strategy that prevents “as we already know”-style exposition but something that complicates it is if your world building isn’t unique or intriguing enough, this slow introduction can become boring

we’ve seen shows like these before; sitting through the same tropes of characters learning to use their powers, struggling with no longer feeling normal/relating to the regular world around them, and not knowing how much they can trust the people already involved in this new world gets repetitive. all three shows eventually reach the same level of comfort with their new world that spn starts with but if the characters aren’t enough to draw you in, you can end up dropping it before they reach that point (and often, before the overarching plot can really kick in and evolve the show beyond the villain of the week format)

it’s the superhero origin movie in tv format; dragged out and overplayed. dropping the audience into an established world of course comes with its own problems but you also have the benefit of pre-existing established character dynamics that let the audience slot in like they’ve always been there instead of just getting to know all the characters while the characters also get to know each other

sam and dean already knowing about the supernatural lets the audience immediately get to the core of the story; the conflict between sam and dean, the search for their father, and the mystery of what killed their mother

[persephone411]

If I were S3 Jax girlfriend I would always carry additional hair ties with me in chase he needs one. Hell, I would do his bun and kiss his forehead afterwards

[reallyneedsalife]

"oh, so you're just friends?" no we aren't 'just' friends. we are friends. we are everything that means, and it isn't any less than a romantic relationship.

we're parabatai, we're besties, we're siblings (unofficially but emotionally), we're attached. we have pinterest boards for each other, I give them presents for no reason other than i saw something I thought they'd like. They buy drinks and laugh as I chug a bottle at speed because im constantly thirsty. they say im the sun and they're the moon. my moon.

our messages consist of videos saying "I love you. You made my life better. You have impacted me as a person forever." and videos consisting of "lmao look at this dude" "cat cat cat cat" "this song made me think of you" "lmao look at this orchestra following a runner playing the mission impossible music while they run" "You're my favourite person" "this is an edit of your favourite show" "this is an edit of my favourite show".

we are not just friends. we are friends.

platonic relationships aren't worth less than romantic ones. don't diminish them with the word "just"

[boyd-clowder]

Walton Goggins talks about being Venus Van Dam on the set of Sons of Anarchy (x)