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Reposted by Amanda | Queen of #Countdown H/C

Kim Rhodes @kimrhodes.bsky.social · 17h

I am old, tired and jaded. I gave up my place to those younger and better equipped, I told myself.

So why did I just buy an inflatable frog costume?

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Jensen Ackles Projects @acklesprojects.bsky.social · 17h

#savecountdown for cast crew fans

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Riva-I’m on Jensen’s left @rivatarn.bsky.social · 17h

Posted by • #jensenackles Thank you to all who watched and supported. 🙏🏼 #countdown RIP

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AO3 Status @status.archiveofourown.org · 17h

[update] Completed: #AO3's scheduled maintenance has finished! You're free to return to browsing.

AO3 Maintenance

#AO3's scheduled maintenance has finished! You're free to return to browsing.

stspg.io

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George The Station Cat @george-station-cat.bsky.social · 19h

Night night sweet dreamies

It’s okay to have depression, it’s okay to have anxiety, & it’s okay to have an adjustment disorder
We need to improve the conversation
We all have mental health in the same way we all have physical health.

We need to talk about it more freely.

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Bleeding Cool @bleedingcool.com · 18h

Showrunner Derek Haas responded to Jensen Ackles (The Boys, Supernatural) and Jessica Camacho (Bosch: Legacy, Watchmen)-starring Countdown ending after one season and revealed Oliveras' fate. / #Countdown #TheBoys #Supernatural #SPNFamily #JensenAckles

Showrunner Derek Haas responded to Jensen Ackles and Jessica Camacho-starring Countdown ending after one season and revealed Oliveras' fate.

dlvr.it

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Amanda | Queen of #Countdown H/C @sinnerforhire.bsky.social · 18h

So incredibly bummed about this. I’ve been writing fanfic for it all summer and it’s just not going to be the same now. Thanks to you and all the cast and crew for the great ride you took us on. ♥️

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AO3 Status @status.archiveofourown.org · 18h

[update] Scheduled: Maintenance will begin as scheduled in 60 minutes.

AO3 Maintenance

Maintenance will begin as scheduled in 60 minutes.

stspg.io

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Erica Grabar @ery72.bsky.social · 19h

Thank you, Jensen, for giving us a character we fell in love with from the first minute we saw him on screen. You've worked your magic. We'll never forget Mark. Thank you to the entire cast and crew for their hard work and dedication to bringing us Countdown.
@derekhaaswriter.bsky.social

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Reposted by Amanda | Queen of #Countdown H/C

Riva-I’m on Jensen’s left @rivatarn.bsky.social · 21h

Creation Halloween costume
#jensenackles

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Reposted by Amanda | Queen of #Countdown H/C

Derek Haas @derekhaaswriter.bsky.social · 19h

Hey, thank you to Amazon Prime and a great cast and crew for our season of Countdown! Fun to make all around! (pssst…Oliveras lived.) 😀

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Amanda | Queen of #Countdown H/C @sinnerforhire.bsky.social · 19h

I can’t believe that either. I choose to believe the writers just forgot to kill then off.

Amanda | Queen of #Countdown H/C @sinnerforhire.bsky.social · 19h

cc: Amazon Prime Video

Effin' Birds @effinbirds.com · 1d

A woodcut of a bird beside the text "get fucked soon"

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Reposted by Amanda | Queen of #Countdown H/C

Pandorakiin | NSFW🔞•💙💚•😈•🌟 @pandorakiin.bsky.social · 23h

Guys, y'all need to check out @thefriendlychasers.bsky.social's "The Weechesters" #suptober25 series.

T.T

www.tumblr.com/thefriendlyp...

Post by @thefriendlypigeon · 3 images

💬 1 🔁 12 ❤️ 43 · 🍂Suptober - Day 10 | Power Outage🍂 · When the lights go out, Castiel lets his halo shine, a gentle lamp for two little Winchesters. They press crayons into his hands, and thoug…

www.tumblr.com

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Reposted by Amanda | Queen of #Countdown H/C

The Bunker @thebunker.bsky.social · 1d

#suptober25 #Destiel #SPN #Supernatural #JohnWinchestersA+Parenting

Dean turned to walk toward the car, freezing in place, his breath leaving his lungs when, out of nowhere, he came face to face with a staring creeper in a tan trench coat.
“The fuckin’ hell is your…”
The look in the considerably older man’s strangely vivid blue eyes made him feel… quiet. His gaze fell to the centre of the man’s chest, like he didn’t have enough strength remaining to hold his eyeballs up. Letting go of his breath, he bowed his head, his breathing going shallow, wincing out of surprise when a gentle touch appeared on his cheeks, guiding him to turn up his face. The man’s forehead gently leaned into his. Dean let out a confused laugh made of scarcely more sound than breath. His body hung from the hands on his face as though disconnected from his brain.
There was light—fire—so hot it burned blue, in the stranger’s eyes. It occurred to him that this is probably what someone homeless would feel like; out in the freezing cold day in and day out. Finally able to warm their hands by a barrel fire or around a mug of hot soup, for the first time in far too goddamn long… except that’s the way this man’s presence blanketed and warmed his soul.
The skin of his forehead made contact with Dean’s and it seemed to Castiel that in every way but the literal, the ribs caging his heart cracked straight down the middle and, like wrought iron gates, swung open wide, exposing the bonfire in his chest and letting the feeling fuelling it out into the world around him. It was into that bonfire he wordlessly invited the boy to discard anything and everything he needed to. The night's razor-sharp despair that shattered his heart and slashed up his will to carry on, and the pain wracking his body—that was all Dean gave over to be incinerated. The rest he kept for himself, knowing he could carry it.
Cas nodded as slightly as he smiled. He would have taken it all away if he’d been allowed. Dean, however, had made his choices. Castiel admired and respected them.

Continued...

Dean would never remember this. Stepping back, the seraph looked the boy over from head to toe. His heart was whole again, and he was young and hale—his wounded body would heal well. Any work he could do in this moment was done.
The boy blinked and started when he woke from the trance he’d fallen into. He had no idea how much time had gone by, but there were tears on his cheeks and he’d been standing there long enough his slightly open mouth had gone dry…
Dean looked on, gobsmacked, as a white glow started to show under the skin where Cas’ forehead and his—theirs? Whatever—touched, unable to shake the feeling that he was watching memory and reality intersect. He remembered lingering there on that cracked, buckling sidewalk, feeling shattered. He couldn’t do this anymore. Even little Sammy wasn’t reason enough. It hurt so fucking bad… then, it didn’t and this clean yet pungent smell tinged the air. He remembered looking around like he expected someone should be standing there. No one. Hunh…
He had to clean the blood off himself and his clothing. Find band-aids. Get his shit together. He could feel weak, but he couldn’t let anyone see that. Mistakes of that sort get you eaten alive out on the street.* Dean watched his younger self cross the parking lot and head toward the corner store for supplies he needed to shoplift. His too-big cargo jacket came in real handy. He already had an idea or two about where to find a bathroom he could use undisturbed.
Castiel’s touch appeared on his shoulder, giving Dean a start. The sensation wrenched him out of his thoughts,
putting his feet back on solid ground. He met Cas’ gaze head-on, swallowing the lump in his throat.
He’d spent his whole life looking the other way, shoving shit like this aside and soldiering on. Now, he recognized it for what it was: a scar. An indelible mark.

Continued...

A gnarled, mangled piece of him that would always be the boy in that room who’d first learned what the icy breath of Death felt like—not from some supernatural monstrosity—but by his father’s hands and words, under his father’s roof. Castiel’s other hand came up to cover his eyes, his thumb resting lightly on his lips. Dean laid his head into the touch, reaching up, stopping when his fingertips grazed the back of Cas’ hand. He started breathing in deeply through his mouth. Feeling his heart grow calmer in his chest, it returned to an even, steady beat. His shoulders relaxed. He hadn’t realized they’d been that hunched up.
Castiel took his hand away, letting the daylight in. Dean let his hand fall back to his side. Dean looked around,
momentarily confused, wincing at the sudden change in light. Daylight? A pine tree line. Water. Just outside civilization. Far enough away, you couldn’t see it. Close enough, you could still smell it. A gentle breeze rustled the trees. Small, quick waves lapped onto the stony shoreline. Dean looked up, wincing at the sun’s obliterating brightness. He stepped back, unsteady.
Clunk… clunk. A wooden dock underfoot. They’d been here before. Dean looked at the angel, a sheen of vulnerable surprise in his eyes; Cas remembered. Castiel let his hand come away from Dean’s shoulder. Dean brought his hand back up, catching the seraph’s forearm. Dean stared down at where he held onto Cas, watching the seraph’s hand cautiously turn down, touching him in return. He didn’t know much, at least not compared to some, but he knew in that moment he wanted to hold and be held by the angel there with him. But… he couldn’t move. Drawn as he was, something in his head still occupied space between them.
“Dean…”
Letting out a sigh, Dean smiled. He didn’t have to look at Cas’ eyes to see the unabashed, inquisitive look he knew went along with the tone of voice.
Dean frowned.

Continued...

As much as he wanted to keep his sights on where Cas had his hand on him, a sound in his ear started getting louder, and louder, and louder until he had to know where it was coming from.
Castiel watched, concerned and looking for the source of Dean’s disquiet in their decidedly tranquil reverie as Dean’s attention seemed pecked at by something. Eventually, wrenched away from him entirely. Dean started and dropped his arm, pulling away the instant he blinked and found their surroundings changed…
•
The sound: water gurgling out of a restroom tap without an aerator. Dean stood aside as a gaggle of the bar’s lady patrons passed between them. None of them looked at either him or Cas like they existed.
Dean met Cas’ intent, expressionless gaze. Castiel watched as Dean processed and realized where and when they were. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good. Cas took a levelling breath as he watched Dean orient himself, forcing his legs to walk down the poorly lit hall. He stood in front of a heavy door held shut by a closer. The sign on the washroom door: MEN. His jaw and cheeks worked, brow furrowed, tendons in his neck went taut. Then came a hand on his shoulder. Something inside him gave. Feeling relieved—steadier—Dean reached for the grab handle, opening the door wide.
Within moments of the two men inside coming into view, it became apparent to Castiel what was happening. The jeans on the stocky man facing the wall, propped up by one hand against it, were undone and down to just below his ass cheeks. His skivvies were flying low, too. Lean, limber, bowed legs dressed in jeans bought ripped belonged to the young man on one knee between the flexing ass obscuring their view and the grimy, ceramic tiled wall.
Oily yellow lights lit the restroom that indelibly smelled of human effluence and vomit that no amount of cloying air freshener and an insufficient amount of cleaning product could hope to combat.

Continued...

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Reposted by Amanda | Queen of #Countdown H/C

The Bunker @thebunker.bsky.social · 1d

#Suptober Day Four • Orchard

“Don’t taint this ground with the colour of the past…You seem like an orchard of mines…So fragile on the inside…Tread careful; one step at a time.”

Teaser • Chapter 3 • Tread Softly Because You Tread on My Memories.

#suptober25 #destiel #JohnWinchestersA+Parenting +

Supernatural
Sex, War & Peace
Day Four • Orchard
“Don’t taint this ground with the colour of the past … You seem like an orchard of mines … So fragile on the inside … Tread careful; one step at a time.”
Dripping Wings & Heavy Things
Chapter 3 • Tread Softly Because You Tread on My Memories
Fog scrambling his thoughts thinned. Dean knew full well where the blinding rage he’d nearly let loose on Castiel came from. A thing with a mind of its own, planted and thriving in the putrid soil of every awful thing he’d seen, done, and suffered. At a loss, he met Cas’ glare for moments, unable to look him in the eye thereafter, ashamed.
Seeing Dean fold and offer no defence smothered the angel’s flaming anger like water. His hold on Dean’s head became gentle again. “I’m able to affect what someone feels, Dean. I’m an angel.” Cas’ intent gaze asked Dean to look at him with words unspoken. Slowly, Dean did. “If I hadn’t heard your heartbeat that first night, I would’ve
thought you lie dead beside me. Your trust was absolute. I hope some of that was my doing, but not the way you’re afraid of. What happened? What’s changed?” Castiel demanded, but softly. With every word Cas spoke, Dean turned his head further away again, almost cringing. Castiel’s tone returned to its gentler register. “Dean, talk with me.”
“I can’t, Cas… I can’t talk about it. Any of it,” Dean shrugged helplessly, childlike. There was too much
that was too awful for words. He couldn’t say it out loud, but he didn’t want to carry it alone anymore. Cornered. Unwilling to stay, unable to go. There was no way out…

$“I can help y—” Snapping, Dean shoved Cas back against the side of the Impala. “You want to know? Fine! Look!” Castiel’s gaze fell for a moment as he gauged whether or not Dean’s inviting him in might inflict even more damage on the bond they shared. “Fucking look!” Dean shouted from inches away, shaking him again. Their unyielding gazes locked and stayed that way until Dean felt something give. He exhaled sharply, blinking. A single tear ran down from one of his eyes. Face devoid of comprehension, Dean wiped it away. Slowly, understanding followed. Dean couldn’t speak aloud the things he carried—not even close—but he wanted Castiel to know, to understand. Resting a comforting hand on either side of Dean’s rigid neck and jaw, Castiel guided Dean’s face back toward him and looked into him, eyes wide, drawing nearer. Castiel’s piercing gaze transfixed Dean. Somehow, it rounded off hard edges—hypnotized—made his head wobble on his neck. Had him wanting to fall in, let go, and peacefully… drown. "Where’s your brother?!” The vicious shout fractured the silent night air, despite coming from inside a motel room. Castiel walked over the empty parking space outside the window into the room. Closed, smoke-discoloured venetian blinds couldn’t keep his eyes from seeing what transpired on the other side. Dean stood close behind him and to one side, near enough he could feel his warmth. Dean scrunched his eyes closed and opened them again. The blinds were gone. He looked in on himself, witnessing the memory disembodied. He watched himself shrink back from his father as his dad took step after shuffling step closer, looking exhausted, ragged, fresh from a hunt, down into the bottom of the bottle in hand, his pupils so dilated they were almost black. The demon possessing John Winchester tonight was not one born of Hell, rather the cornfields of Tennessee. “Don’t shrug at me and tune out when I’m talking to you!” John swung. Continued...$

Castiel stood, watching, as the man Dean loved, trusted, and idolized lay down a beating on his son—his baby boy—that would kill Dean if he didn’t stop.
Then, he did. His hand went still, cocked back in the air. Dean found his feet again, the way he always did, as John turned and stumbled away, summoning every scrap of restraint he could muster.
“Get out.”
Dean looked up at his father, bewildered. John would lay one on him then send him to another room, out to the car, or somewhere out of mind if out of sight wasn’t possible, needing to pretend he didn’t exist for a while, but never…
“Where am I gonna go?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care.” The words hit Dean in the face like a slap.
“Uh… I need to—” …wash the blood off before I go.
He tried to say it, but the look on John’s face kept his mouth closed better than wearing an iron mask.
John lumbered up to him and brought his face in close to the quivering boy’s, looking him in the eye, daring him to flash the faintest hint of defiance at him. “Get the fuck out. Or I’ll kill you.”
The words hit harder than any physical punishment he’d ever taken. Dean felt something in him shatter. Hurting so badly and thoroughly, it was impossible to pinpoint what it was. Stunned speechless, unable to look his dad in the eye, Dean made one foot move, then the other. He almost forgot his jacket with keys and wallet in the pockets on the way out. He walked out the door feeling as though he was swimming through the air, dazed and untethered. He felt the body he lived in, the clothing he wore, his plasticky, numb skin, the blood pooling in bruises
underneath and drying on it, didn’t feel real. The world around him didn’t feel like something substantial enough to hold on to, not anymore.
John passed out on Dean’s bed within minutes. He never remembered what happened that night. Perhaps because it was easier for his conscience that way.

Continued...

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Deanna Marie 👻🎃 @dee4dean.bsky.social · 1d

Suptober 2025 Day 8: Fortune Telling

Cas doesn’t know what a “cootie” is, or how to catch one, so Charlie teaches him.

#suptober25 #Castiel #CharlieBradbury #spnfamily #digitalart

A digital drawing of Castiel and Charlie Bradbury from Supernatural. They are showing from the neck to the waist. They are looking at an origami “cootie catcher” or fortune teller. They are leaning on a table that has a plate with a slice of pizza on it. Castiel is holding a beer.

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Boo-rittany Ahh! 🤍👻 @brittanyann314.bsky.social · 21h

I’m grateful to our little #Countdown summer for many reasons, but one of the big ones is that, for those 13 weeks, we had appointment TV again.

My #SPNFamily (& actual family) all over the world was able to talk about each episode & it was such a joy to connect this way & support our dude. 🥹🤍🫂

a man with a beard says " i 'm fine " in front of a countdown logo

Alt: Mark Meachum says “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

media.tenor.com

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Reposted by Amanda | Queen of #Countdown H/C

pussels68 @pussels68.bsky.social · 20h

I just heard the news and I am so sorry @derekhaaswriter.bsky.social and to absolutely everyone who day after day poured their hearts and souls into this amazing series. Please tell them that we fought very hard posting, watching, rewatching, discussing, giffing for months and we are very angry!

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Reposted by Amanda | Queen of #Countdown H/C

purr.in.ink @purrinink.bsky.social · 23h

😽🫶

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Amanda | Queen of #Countdown H/C @sinnerforhire.bsky.social · 19h

This does justify my decision to not watch episodes 11-13. The show ended before the time jump and I’m sticking to that. #Countdown

TVLine @tvline.com · 21h

The 'Countdown' is over: The Jensen Ackles-led thriller is among two shows cancelled at Prime Video after one season — get details.

Countdown Among Two Shows Cancelled at Prime Video

The 'Countdown' is over: The Jensen Ackles-led thriller is among two shows cancelled at Prime Video after one season — get details.

tvline.com

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Amanda | Queen of #Countdown H/C @sinnerforhire.bsky.social · 19h

#Countdown can be a Yuletide fandom forever now. And if you know what I’m talking about, take your calcium supplement.

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Reposted by Amanda | Queen of #Countdown H/C

Riker Googling @rikergoogling.bsky.social · 1d

apple combadge preorder

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Reposted by Amanda | Queen of #Countdown H/C

Mystic photography🩷💜💙 Cobra Kai @mysticphotos.bsky.social · 1d

Exactly 3 weeks from today I leave for #spnnash!! Woohoo!

Vancouver September 2025. #spnvan #vancon #mishacollins #SPNFamily

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Reposted by Amanda | Queen of #Countdown H/C

John Rogers @johnrogers.bsky.social · 1d

ME: Now Mom, just remember, there's a lot of disinformation and AI in your social feed and your friends' Facebook.
MOM: I know! My friend sent me this crazy post where someone used AI to make an image of a giant frog fighting Army troops!
ME: ... okay, no, that one's ... goddamit, Portland.

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