Here you will find a lot of Supernatural, Misha Collins, MCR, some Panic!, and a smattering of other stuff like Doctor Who, Harry Potter, comic books, and random music sharing.
I'm sometimes a tad offensive, I get really, really excited over things I like, and I live in my own little world. I smoke, drink, and larp, and those aren't my only vices. I don't care about follow backs, so if you follow me, I will check you out, but won't necessarily follow, and if I follow you, I don't expect you to do the same.
/slipshod abouting
- Furthermore, the owner of this blog will ignore the #silentmajority campaign, because it is ridiculous to claim you speak for more than half of the fandom. Proof? No, proof, so change your title, please.
- Yes, this blog ships Dean and Castiel with the force of a thousand burning suns. Have a problem with that? I don’t care.
- No, this blog doesn’t hate Sam. In fact, the owner of this blog loves Sam and acknowledges that Supernatural is the story of two brothers. The owner enjoys their bond immensely. That doesn’t mean the monster-of-week format works anymore. Because it doesn’t. Proof, season 7.
- Supernatural is not season 1/2 anymore. Get over it. A show needs to progress and not regress.
- The owner of this blog appreciates and loves almost all side-characters, respects their character development and doesn’t want them to be treated like tools for the plot.
- The owner of this blog thinks Castiel is just as important as Sam and Dean. In fact, the owner supports Team Free Will.
- The owner of this blog wants a Dean-centric season where he gets the chance to be involved with the myth arc regardless of how much his brother or other characters are involved. Dean needs a chance to heal. He needs a chance to be independent. He needs a chance to shine.
- No, the owner of this blog does NOT believe Dean’s entire existence revolves around taking care of his brother. And Sam doesn’t believe it either, as seen below.
(via coffeeandcheesecake)
#and thus the leviathan cried #get out i’m taking a bath #and the angel said you’ve been using up all the hot water #and smote him.
(via deanspartyhat)
#angel #crying #depression #gentle #gif #nature #sad #sculpture #statue
Really. Really.
I had a dream last night with two weeping angels. But luckily there were a couple of us so as long as we took turns, we could all blink acceptably. Until one of them learned this weird trick where it could force my brain to stop watching it and it could move in little bursts while I was still watching it and I couldn’t just turn and run because then it could move freely, but it was still coming for me.
(Source: wingtipsandhalos, via brokenwings-learntofly)
PART 1 |
NYUH. Damn everything. I don’t have enough time to read all of this right now. SO UNFAIR. Where the hell is my frikkin time turner???
(via padapooper)
Family // composed and performed by Elizabeth Smart
This song is dedicated to the birthday kids, Heathyr, Linnie (yesterday counts!) and toomuchagain, and also my loves who graduated today/soon, Chris and Cleo! Of course, this song is also for my whole family on this site— I love you all so dearly and I don’t know where’d I be without you <3
I AM DYING IN BOBBY FEELS.
Can we play this at gke? Or the next time I’m around you guys? Please?
Decision of the day: Sobriety will end promptly at 1pm. Coffee will just have to get me through until then.
Dean can feel the light from the window before he opens his eyes. He allows one to open, and holy fuck, is it bright. So much for just a nap, a couple of hours before he and Sam had to hit the road. Speaking of, where the hell is Sam in all this. Reluctantly, he opens the other eye because it’s weird to be looking at extremely bright light with one eye and spots Sam who is sleeping on the bed next to him, and isn’t that wonderful. Great way to start the day, Winchesters.
He attempts to turn over, his side is getting that numb, tingly feeling from staying in one place for too long, when he feels sharp claws dig into his hip. He groans because really? this is his life?
He stops mid-turn in hopes that the claws with stop. They do, thankfully, and Dean turns his head to get a glimpse of whatever monster decided to give Dean his wake-up call. His fingers slack on the knife he was gripping under his pillow and he sighs.
“Morning,” Dean says with a breath of relief. As usual, no response, but the look Cas is giving him says enough.
It registers then, that the sun did not wake him up. He looks over at the window, and it’s most definitely still dark outside. No, it was Castiel, and shit, is he glowing?
“Uh, Cas,” Dean questions, and gets two paws digging in deep as an answer accompanied with a low, urgent growl. Dean takes that for shut your goddamn eyes because Castiel is getting brighter, and Dean knows what happens when you look into that creepy angel light.
Eyes shut, Dean experiences nothing except the feeling that room is lit with whatever Castiel is giving off and Dean feels scared. He hopes, prays-if he’s honest, that Castiel will turn out okay.
Suddenly, that two pounds of fluff has gained what Dean approximates is about a buck eighty.
“You can open your eyes, Dean,” he hears, and Dean does. He fucking does quick because Castiel is right there, in Jimmy’s vessel, and he’s sitting on Dean’s side.
“Get off,” is the first thing Dean thinks to say because tact was never a strong suit of his and Jimmy’s body is fucking heavy.
Castiel obliges and looks embarrassed, and that’s not how Dean meant to make him feel. Castiel shuffles back, awkwardly-obviously, and Dean sits up, quick as ever and grabs on to Castiel’s wrist.
“You’re back,” Dean exclaims in awe. He tugs hard, pulling Castiel atop his body and hugs the angel tight. “You’re really fucking back,” Dean cheers happily into Castiel’s neck.
Castiel is stiff against Dean, most likely unsure of what’s going on, but Dean is not deterred. “I never left, Dean.”
“I know, but you’re not a cat. You’re you,” Dean gasps, still giddy with delight, the angel still draped over him in this make-shift attempt at a hug.
“My true form is approximately the size of.”
“The Chrysler building, I know. But you know what I mean,” Dean explains. Dean rolls from underneath Castiel and stands up, hand gripped to the angel’s wrist once more and pulls him up with him. Dean looks over at Sam’s sleeping form before saying, “Fuck it,” and kisses Castiel, really kisses him. Castiel doesn’t respond at first, but then his lips are parting, hands sealing over Dean’s hip, and Dean lets out a moan.
“The fuck,” Sam groans sleepily. For a moment, there is silence save the sounds coming from Dean and Castiel. “Oh, you’re back,” Sam says, and then, “And kissing Dean. Of course.”
They don’t break, no, Dean fumbles with Castiel back onto the bed. “Okay then,” Sam announces to whoever’s listening, he suspects no one. “I’ll just get another room.” He shuffles to the door, “I’m glad you’re, you know, you again”
“Me too,” Sam hears Dean add, and Castiel chuckles, “Thank you, Sam. I am as well.” And then there’s more kissing, but Sam leaves because the world doesn’t have enough bleach to clean up after that.
Oh man. The Group needs to know about this game. And play it. Frequently.
omg that’d be glorious
I HAVE PLAYED THIS BEFORE
IT IS FUCKING GLORIOUS
OH MY GOD THIS IS THE BEST GAME EVER. The only difficulty is convincing all your friends to play along. It seems there’s always a couple that are against it.
