High

Multifandom multishipper blog, my ask is always open and im always willing to interact and make new friends :3 (seriously guys, talk to me. pleasee) Currently obsessed with Supernatural and Welcome to Night Vale. Also (if you ever want to rp) my muses are Jack from RoTG and Hiccup from HTTYD (although I'd love to rp with any other character I know). Keep going :)

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Help. I entered the twist and shout tag looking for the whole quote of “I saw you, and it didn’t seem right to say goodnight” (actually if someone can help me out with that it would be really helpful) and i saw cas on a hospital and lots of fucking spoilers! What the hell!?? Someone tell me what the fuck happens!!

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ameliaaboyce:

I can see it now.. The musical for the 200th episode Castiel starts singing “You’re the devil in disguise” by Elvis to Dean, and at the end Dean says “Elvis? I can dig Elvis”

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Oh god Dean has been drafted. Oh god oh god. And I have to sleep because I have classes tomorrow, but it just doesn’t seem right to say goodnight

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  • How to deal with the angst of Twist and Shout (or any other fic): Don't
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whelvenwings:

prompts by a pair of awesome anons: can you make a soulmate!AU? // can you write a ficlet where dean/cas can’t see in color until they meet the other person?

read it here on AO3 (recommended if you’re on mobile)

It was raining heavily in the darkest hours of the night. Dean Winchester turned up his coat collar against the downpour and sent a quick glance up and down the wide, deserted street, before ducking into a smaller and grimier alley.

People were loitering in doorways, wearing coloured sashes over their clothes. Their whispers as Dean passed by seemed to mimic the steady patter of the rain on the cracked cement pavement. Dean hesitated, then approached a tall, auburn-haired woman glaring at him from her perch on a rickety wooden chair.

“You see red?” she snapped at him, irate, as he ducked under the cover of her porch. Above where the woman was sitting, there was a metal sign which said Naomi’s Place in rusting red letters. Beneath that was a dimly lit oil painting of a forest, mud-splattered and cracked.

“Lower spectrum, up to yellow,” Dean confirmed. He looked the woman over; her skin was smooth, her clothing neat and formal. Her eyes looked grey to Dean; he wondered if they were green, as he’d been told his own were. He looked down at the woman’s sash, which was also washed clean of colour to Dean’s eyes.

“You see blue?” he asked hopefully. The woman, Naomi, shook her head.

“Green,” she said. Dean shrugged. Blues were pretty rare; he hadn’t really expected to find one working here.

“I’ve only got thirty dollars,” he said, twisting the bills in his gloved hands.

Naomi pursed her lips.

“That will only be good for thirty seconds. One fingertip only,” she cautioned, and Dean nodded, swallowing hard around the lump in his throat. He hated this, hated it utterly, but could not keep away. He handed over his payment, and slid his white glove off his left hand. Naomi reached out one finger, and Dean paused before touching the tip of his index finger to hers. He closed his eyes, allowed the shudder of unfamiliar contact to pass. When he opened them, he looked straight at the oil painting behind Naomi.

As he watched, the grey of the trees in the scene started to change. Slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, light strands of green started to bleed into the leaves; as Dean watched rapturously, they became more and more vibrant, until the whole forest was glowing like an emerald held up to the setting sun – a little dark, but green, definitely green, and so completely beautiful that it took Dean’s breath away –

“That’s all you get,” Naomi said, pulling back. Dean lifted his hand up to his eyes, ostensibly to rub away the slight afterglow that sharing colours often left. If Naomi noticed that his fingers came away wet, she didn’t comment on it.

“Thank you,” Dean said, pulling his glove back on. Naomi nodded curtly, and Dean turned away, disappeared into the rainwashed night.

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myliittlefangirl:

People who read smut in school are dangerous and should not be fucked with

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gay-4-ur-convenience:

I remember the first time I read smut I felt so guilty, now it’s like a pass time activity

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http://555-tardis.tumblr.com/post/92408589002/i-think-that-the-writers-of-supernatural-are

555-tardis:

I think that the writers of Supernatural are misinterpreting what we want Destiel to be. If they have even set foot inside this website or gone as far as to look up Destiel fanfiction, they may believe that we don’t just want a homosexual relationship. They may believe we want it to be the…

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Permalink ultrafacts:

Source For more facts follow Ultrafacts