You two are the best ♥
(but tags tho)
“Dad’s on a hunting trip. And he hasn’t been home in a few days.”
The dates are still tentative, but the vote is strongly leaning to the weekend of July 27-28.
We’re spending two whole days together in the wilderness running, jumping, climbing trees, and other fun things. There’ll be good food and good company, and maybe a few excellent activities to make the day memorable.
This event is being hosted by the Seattle Supernatural Family, but anyone interested in Supernatural from any part of the continent is welcome.
Just make sure you pack provisions. And we’re not talking M&Ms and popcorn. ;)
Buy tickets for Camp Chitaqua | Facebook RSVP | Twitter RSVP
Those interested in attending but unable to due to distance, time constraints, et cetera, are strongly encouraged to donate to our fundraising effort for Misha’s birthday or on behalf of Princess Ackles.
Reblog even if you can’t go! We need the signal boost!
(via gypseian)
Source: bpt.me
“Dad’s on a hunting trip. And he hasn’t been home in a few days.”
The dates are still tentative, but the vote is strongly leaning to the weekend of July 27-28.
We’re spending two whole days together in the wilderness running, jumping, climbing trees, and other fun things. There’ll be good food and good company, and maybe a few excellent activities to make the day memorable.
This event is being hosted by the Seattle Supernatural Family, but anyone interested in Supernatural from any part of the continent is welcome.
Just make sure you pack provisions. And we’re not talking M&Ms and popcorn. ;)
Buy tickets for Camp Chitaqua | Facebook RSVP | Twitter RSVP
(via seattle-spn)
i was browsing through ellen degeneres’ youtube videos and when i was watching her interview segments i noticed a trend where she keeps the comments enabled for all of her adult interviews but when she has a child on the show she disables any of the comments to protect the child from any bullying or negative feedback and that is why she and her team of producers are incredible
(via tessaviolet)
Source: ex-cuse-u
3:15 nostalgia time.
I remember my first “real boyfriend.”
His name was Nick and he wore Hawaiian shirts. I met him when I was a freshman. His friends were in line for the Phantom Menace premiere and after deciding I was super cool, they hooked us up. We “dated” for a couple months, never actually kissed but held hands a lot, and laughed. He introduced me to pokemon, and using laser pointers with cats. His parents had a goat; we were goatblocked the one time we tried to kiss but the experience was so hilarious that neither of us really minded. He made me a really sweet gift by filling a water balloon with flour or something, to make like a homemade stress ball. I remember trying to explain to him how to say my name and saying it was a little bit like saying crayon except you move the o between the c and the r (it made sense at the time?) but he just called me his crayon instead. That was his nickname for me. I don’t think what we had was passionate love in any real sense, but he was wonderful and sweet and kind and generous and I miss that.
I miss the little things. I mean, sex can be nice when the person you’re with really knows what they’re doing (and sadly, I’ve never had a thorough partner the way I’m always thorough with them), but what I really miss is kissing. And curling against another body. I miss the stupid jokes and the fleeting touches and the way heat was so easy to generate. I miss feeling like I have someone on my side, to support me when I’m feeling afraid. That last one, I think I only ever felt once, and then it was gone.
I’m going to sleep now. And hopefully when I wake up, I can finish the fuckton of homework I have to do and not be distracted by every little goddamn thing.
[Scene 1]
He was in Kansas City when it happened.
There weren’t any fireworks. The world didn’t shake itself into oblivion. He didn’t even see any sign that there was even anything going on until he was flipping through his news feeds and kept seeing the word “virus” flashing over and over on every page. That’s when the panic set in. The symptoms were eerily familiar.
He tried calling Cas, but all he managed was a “Where are you?” before the phone ran dead. Before he lost him entirely, Cas had replied with “Something’s wrong—”
Something’s wrong. No truer words had ever been spoken in the history of the world.
It didn’t take much to activate the GPS in Castiel’s phone. Child’s play, really. The real problem was the moment he stepped outside. The roads were congested, looters were already rampant in the streets, the smell of smoke and the sound of gunshot puncturing the wind.
He had to find Castiel.
It took almost four days to get to him, and only because he ran out of gas and couldn’t get more without his first run-in with the newest monster on the street. Men. The same kind of crazy men they’d run into at Rivergrove. The same ones he’d seen in some of the backwater newsfeeds that became more and more frequent as it spread.
Croatoans. That’s what Sam had referred to them as, in the notes of their once-shared journal, the page marked in the corner with a fluorescent red highlighter. Unresolved case. Further action required.
When he finally found Cas, he was standing in a shorn cornfield, staring up at the rolling storm clouds. He didn’t respond the first couple times Dean called to him, waiting until he was just a few feet behind.
“They’re leaving.”
“Who?” Dean demanded, what little relief he had at finding Castiel safe quickly diminished.
“The angels.” Castiel’s voice was flat, almost like the first time Dean met him.
“Cas, what’s going on?” Dean said, barely resisting the urge to grab the angel by the shoulders and spin him around to face him. “I got up this morning and it’s like everything’s gone to hell—”
Castiel finally turned, a heavy sadness in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Dean. Sam consented to Lucifer.”
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