Yeah, going to go lay down. The computer hurts my head
June 2011
I feel so damn sick and dizzy and nauseous and exhausted
DEAR BODY. STOP FUCKING WITH ME.
Misha Collins' Eyes Appreciation Post.
‘CAUSE I NEED IT.
Pics belong to their owners aka not me. Ugh.
May 2011
Gave awesome guided tours today!
I fucking love it when kids are beyond goddamn enthusiastic! I had TWO AWESOME GROUPS! How lucky was that!?
And also, was able to convince the higher ups to add a person in the new expo, WHAT UP.
Until We Bleed, Dean/Cas
Originally written for prettybrokenthings. Coda to 6x20.
“Who are you?” the mussy-haired, blue-eyed teenager asks suspiciously, tears falling from his eyes as he clutches the limp body of a bloodied, sandy-haired teenager close to his chest.
“I’m you,” Castiel says calmly, tilting his head. This version of himself is not an angel, never has been. He’s just a teenager, grasping tightly at the body of his dead boyfriend, a crushed Impala burning in the field behind them.
For the teen’s credit, he doesn’t seem shocked. Perhaps it’s the resemblence, or maybe they, as two different versions of each other, have a connection. But mostly, Castiel knows it’s because Dean’s lying dead in his arms, and how can he possibly care about anything else at that moment?
