Monterey Bay Aquarium
Jules of Nature
oozey mess
JVL
blake kathryn
noise dept.
Xuebing Du
Love Begins
NASA
we're not kids anymore.
#extradirty
Stranger Things
Sade Olutola
Peter Solarz
Fai_Ryy
No title available
official daine visual archive
titsay
art blog(derogatory)
pixel skylines
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@smollest-sammy
Jensen Ackles: So how do you feel about Sam Winchester?
Them: He’s okay, I guess. I don’t really like the guy who plays him–
Jensen Ackles: I DON’T HAVE TO SIT HERE AND LISTEN TO THIS, I’M LEAVING RIGHT NOW IMMEDIATELY.
Them: …why are you still here then?
Jensen Ackles, shoving breadsticks into his pockets: Jared loves breadsticks.
Well then. That jumped up a notch and got right outta hand.
(VegasCon)
Jared’s hand in the first gif. Him going jacket off. The pec dance. The way Jared stripping off his jacket leads directly to Jensen unbuckling his pants. How Jensen STARES at him the ENTIRE time he unbuckles and buckles his belt. I’m just…dead.
EDIT: IN THAT LAST GIF HE IS LITERALLY JERKING HIS BELT LIKE…you know. While staring at Jared. Okay. I’m fine.
fucking hell, he really is
Meet my nana. She raised me as a child, and was more of a mother to me than my own. She loves me, deeply, without restrictions, and accepted me even after I had come out as trans. She researched what that meant, she asked me about how she should address the cards she sent to me, she… she loves me. And I love her. Of all my family, she’s the only one that’s stuck with me through thick and thin.
On Sunday, February 25th, my nana was found unconscious and unresponsive on the kitchen floor. She is diabetic, and her blood sugar was over 700. However, she remained unconscious even after her blood sugar was brought down to stable levels. An MRI given on Monday the 26th determined that she had suffered a stroke in her occipital lobe. This means that if she wakes up, she could have difficulty with swallowing or vision problems.
But if the stroke was severe enough, she might never regain consciousness. On Tuesday, she will be given an EEG to determine brain activity.
The reality of the situation is that I need to fly to her, either to be there if she wakes up, or… for her funeral.
Flights from Minneapolis to Indianapolis range from $300 to $400, which I just don’t have. I don’t get paid until the 9th, and there’s no guarantee she’ll be able to hold on until then.
I’m raising money now, so that if something happens between now and then, I can leave the next day.
Please, please, please consider donating. Even $10 helps.
paypal.me/dumpstercat
I think sometimes Sam underestimates his brother…
J2 Drabble
Jensen takes what he wants.
Porn gif under the cut
Keep reading
why didnt you call the cops or cps?
how about this: when i was 9 and my stepdad beat me until i passed out and i told my friends at school, my teacher over heard and i was interviewed by cps. they also went to my house when i was at school. when i got home, my step father was waiting on the couch, and told me who visited him that day. he told me if i ever snitched again he would beat me to within an inch of my life.
how about this: my mother locked me out of the house when i was 14 and when i cried so loud the neighbors called the cops, the cop told me i should have been respectful of my mother who was trying to sleep.
how about this. the demon you know is less scary than the demon you don’t.
children in abused households are raised to fear the idea of being taken away. children in abusive households see that help makes things worse.
dont you ever blame an abuse victim for not going to the authorities.
i see this gif’d/capped a lot but can we talk about the context and what sam says right before this look?
you meet someone like her, ever make you wonder if it’s worth it? putting everything else on hold, doing what we do?
and dean looks at sam like are you kidding me? i would put anything on hold just to sit here in this car next to you because you are the light of my life and my favorite thing and i would die for you a thousand times over and live for you too, only for you. nothing has ever been more worth it.
or something like that.
“Hey, new guy. Quit flirtin’ with the trainer and keep scoopin’, huh?”
Boy you literally just looked him up and down and said “Nice shorts” of course he’s gonna think you’re flirting don’t look so suprised
Sam asks for just three words when Dean begs him not to leave for Stanford, but Dean -
He can’t.
Four years later, Sam dies in his arms, and Dean’s mouth tastes of rainwater and regret when he whispers into Sam’s hair: “I love you.”
Sam grows cold in Dean’s arms.
Dean lowers him to the bed, not knowing if Sam had heard him.
I was not prepared for this 😢
When Sam got like this, it was hard to resist him. Those hazel eyes, begging for Dean’s touch. His soft hands clutching at Dean’s shirt, bringing the older of the two closer. His teeth bared as he silently begs his older brother to take him, to help him forget.
Dean doesn’t hesitate to give Sam what he wants on those nights, doesn’t hesitate to lie Sam down on the bed and worship his body, never letting his little brother forget how fucking beautiful he is.
Dean always kisses every inch of his little brother’s skin, always whispers sweet nothings into his ear when he lifts Sam’s leg and slides into him from behind.
Sometimes, Sam cries through the whole thing, loving and hating Dean’s soft care all at once.
But some nights, like this one, he revels in the little words of “You’re beautiful, Sam” and “I love you so much, baby boy” whispered into his ear.
Sam’s a lucky guy. And he knows it.
It’s Sam’s first day of school. Dean’s already in grade 4, but today is Sammy’s very first day of kindergarten. The other kids have been in the class for half a year already–John started him a little late, because it took a while for Bobby to convince him that Sam would be safe enough at school for him to really allow it.
Sam doesn’t speak to anyone. Not his teachers, not his classmates. Not even the principle when she says hello.
By the time recess rolls around, all the other kids have decided that Sam isn’t worth the effort. They leave him alone, and he’s glad. He doesn’t want to be with them. He want’s to be with Dean.
There’s a little metal fence separating the yard where Dean plays for recess and where the kindergartens play. Sam sits by it, waiting expectantly. When Dean joins him and asks how his first day of school is going, Sam just lifts his arms up over his head and blinks his bambi eyes up at Dean. So Dean reaches down over the fence and scoops Sammy up into his arms, and he holds him until recess is done, not saying a word.
And Sam was happy.
you know, when i said i wanted the real world to be more like harry potter i just meant the teleportation and the butterbeer, not the entire plot of book 5 where the government refuses to do anything about a deadly threat so the teenagers have to rise up and fight back
At the end of season 3 in Supernatural we see Dean is wearing the Samulet in hell.
But in the first episode of season 4 Sam returns the Samulet to Dean
That means Deans soul was wearing the Samulet in hell.
His fucking soul was wearing it
Damn!
That’s just so tragic and beautiful.
Sam’s breathless and panting as he rides Dean, leaned against the headboard, while he praises Sam, litters his throat with pet names that end with a bite at the base of his neck. Sweat rolls down his tensing body, rolls down like Dean’s voice over his skin full of admiration for how Sam feels around him, how good he is, how pretty, beautiful all those long limbs aching with stress to make himself last a little longer. “C'mon baby, lose it for me-” “Dean-” Sam gasps in warning, eyes shut, jaw dropping as he seats himself fully. He’s shivering, hair falling in his face as he huffs out a breath before picking up speed again. “It’s all right, baby boy, I got you-” The taller man bows his head on a grunt. His hips falter and Dean smirks into those lips that he pulls toward him by cupping the back of Sam’s head; his fingers tangle in his hair possessively. Sam’s makes a noise somewhere between pained and hissing and it makes Dean pull a little harder. “Fuck- Dean-” “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Dean croons lovingly, voice slightly shaken up because fuck- fuck, man- Sam’s falling apart on his dick and he’s looking to Dean like wants him to stop and keep going until everything is too much, until his sight whites out. “Look so pretty, babe, fucking perfect-” he kisses him gentle but Sam overpowers him, breath harsh, hands gripping either side of Dean’s head. Sam’s begging with his eyes, pleading silently with his thrusts snapping and stinging Dean’s skin; Sam’s hips roll slow with Dean’s hands on them and then- “C'mon, come for me, baby boy-“ Sam seems to suck his words in because he’s shuddering and burying his head into Dean’s shoulder while the other folds his arms across Sam’s lower back and follows suit because Sam is fucking gorgeous and Dean can’t help but fall over the edge with him, silencing his groans into Sam’s neck and then kissing along it, whimpering slightly as those hips drag up his length while clenching to make all his muscles tighten and lock up. ”Jesus, Sammy,“ he lets his head fall back, chest heaving as Sam rocks into him. “Good- good- perfect, Sammy, baby boy-” Dean hums at the feel of lips on his neck. Even though they’re spent, he can feel Sam smile into the skin there, his teeth sinking in slightly. “Did so good, babe- ah!” and then they sink hard into the spot where neck meets shoulder and all Dean can do is groan and let Sam mouth at every inch of Dean’s glistening, sated body.
so this is a thing
a bunch of moms are making letters+audio recordings of affirming, validating letters to queer/trans* people who don’t get that kind of support from their moms
i would say more about it but
im kind of busy in this puddle of tears on the floor so
In case any of my followers don’t have this kind of support from home…
my mom did this and if you need an honourary mother i promise she would be happy to talk to you
I desire to be an honorary mom!
Sometimes Dean wishes Sam was still a short and chubby 12 year old; it was so much easier to bend Sam over his knee and finger his tight little ass when the kid wasn’t 6’4 and pure muscle.
i can feel anxiety’s cold clammy hand start to grip my shoulders and i know im about to regret e v e r y t h i n g
