navigation


alisonshendrixs:

men’s rights activists


rangerpone:

crunchthedestroyer:

rangerpone:

Turn Down For Worm

x

I am so fucking done with this fucking planet

HOW COME THIS NEVER GOT A SHIT TON OF NOTES????


tywins:

i don’t think we talk about this enough


boyprincessmanic:

REASONS TO LOVE PROFESSOR MINERVA MCGONAGALL


ron-swanson:

this isnt a video

its an experience


casey459:


tonystaarks:


efflorescentia:


canhasactuallife:


rcmclachlan:


“Check this out.” Sam turns the laptop toward Cas, who blinks at it curiously. “The ESO’s got some incredible photos. They just uploaded a series of open clusters, and some of them are mind-blowing.”
Dean snorts from the bed, the remote control pointed at the TV like a weapon. Fifty channels, plus free HBO, and nothing’s on? How is that even possible? “You wanna show him mind-blowing? Look in my bookmarks under ‘pole dancing championship’.”
There is a moment of silence, tense enough that even Dean manages to tear his eyes away from what must be Telemundo. They’re speaking Spanish and just broke out into a dance routine. This is why the American media sucks.
“Cas? Dude, you okay?”
“This image,” Cas says quietly, eyes clouded with weariness and a thousand sleepless nights. Adapting to the routines of humanity hasn’t been kind to him. “It’s —”
“It’s…” Sam cranes his neck and squints at the monitor. “The Pleiades. Probably the most recognizable cluster there is.”
“Why do you even know that? No, seriously, how does that shit affect our lives at all?”
“Shut the hell up, Dean.”
“Sandalphon.”
Cas stares at the screen, eyes soft, lashes dipping with what can only be pain. He reaches out to touch — something Sam’s yelled at him for doing countless times — and gently places his fingertips upon it, treating it like the most precious gift he’s ever received. And it might be. The Winchesters have never been much for gift-giving, which is a shitty life to introduce Cas into. Normal people get gifts all the time. The last thing Dean gave him was a stick of gum.
God dammit.
Dean rolls out of bed and pads over, resting an arm carelessly over the back of Cas’s shoulders. “Say again?”
“Sandalphon, my old general,” Cas says, tilting his head. “This is… She was a brilliant tactician. She led the first battalion against Lucifer during the First War.”Sam exhales softly. “What happened?”
“She… decided that Lucifer’s way was right. She Fell.”
An awkward silence stretches between them, an eternity before Sam clicks on the next picture. Cas expels a breath like it physically hurts him to hold it in.
“Chazaquiel.”
They go through maybe forty pictures of open clusters, which Dean still really doesn’t understand, Cas naming each of them as a brother or sister — “Penemue, Amaros, Arkas, Kochab…” — before they come to an image that is, admittedly, breathtaking. Dean lets out a low whistle and nudges Cas’s neck with his arm, fingers brushing the worn fabric of Dean’s old ACDC shirt, a bit too big over Cas’s thin shoulders.
“That one fucking rocks,” he says, and nudges Cas again. “Who’s that?” 
Cas sucks in a shuddering breath and leans to rest his head on Dean’s stomach, fingers reaching out once more for the monitor.
“Me.”


 LKDFJDSLKFJADS;LFKADSJF;LDSKFJ;DSLKFJ;LADSKFJ;ADSLKFJAS;DLKFNUASD;OAIFAJ;LKAJR;OIUD;OAFIDSU;OAIERJFLKDSJF;ODSIFJLDFKGHDF;OIUG;DFOIGSJF;GSKDFG;LSHG;TOIERUJ;LKJDFLGIUDROITNRLKGDF;OIDUJAFLKDSJFOIAUDFKLDSJSIODFU;ADSILFDSLFIUEOIJDLKJ


THIS IS FUCKING BEAUTIFUL AND ALL OF THE FEELINGS


#this might just be my favorite fanfic of Dean/Cas that does not consist any porn whatsoever


Excuse me while I remove my jaw from the floor

casey459:

tonystaarks:

efflorescentia:

canhasactuallife:

rcmclachlan:

“Check this out.” Sam turns the laptop toward Cas, who blinks at it curiously. “The ESO’s got some incredible photos. They just uploaded a series of open clusters, and some of them are mind-blowing.”

Dean snorts from the bed, the remote control pointed at the TV like a weapon. Fifty channels, plus free HBO, and nothing’s on? How is that even possible? “You wanna show him mind-blowing? Look in my bookmarks under ‘pole dancing championship’.”

There is a moment of silence, tense enough that even Dean manages to tear his eyes away from what must be Telemundo. They’re speaking Spanish and just broke out into a dance routine. This is why the American media sucks.

“Cas? Dude, you okay?”

“This image,” Cas says quietly, eyes clouded with weariness and a thousand sleepless nights. Adapting to the routines of humanity hasn’t been kind to him. “It’s —”

“It’s…” Sam cranes his neck and squints at the monitor. “The Pleiades. Probably the most recognizable cluster there is.”

“Why do you even know that? No, seriously, how does that shit affect our lives at all?”

“Shut the hell up, Dean.”

“Sandalphon.”

Cas stares at the screen, eyes soft, lashes dipping with what can only be pain. He reaches out to touch — something Sam’s yelled at him for doing countless times — and gently places his fingertips upon it, treating it like the most precious gift he’s ever received. And it might be. The Winchesters have never been much for gift-giving, which is a shitty life to introduce Cas into. Normal people get gifts all the time. The last thing Dean gave him was a stick of gum.

God dammit.

Dean rolls out of bed and pads over, resting an arm carelessly over the back of Cas’s shoulders. “Say again?”

“Sandalphon, my old general,” Cas says, tilting his head. “This is… She was a brilliant tactician. She led the first battalion against Lucifer during the First War.”

Sam exhales softly. “What happened?”

“She… decided that Lucifer’s way was right. She Fell.”

An awkward silence stretches between them, an eternity before Sam clicks on the next picture. Cas expels a breath like it physically hurts him to hold it in.

“Chazaquiel.”

They go through maybe forty pictures of open clusters, which Dean still really doesn’t understand, Cas naming each of them as a brother or sister — “Penemue, Amaros, Arkas, Kochab…” — before they come to an image that is, admittedly, breathtaking. Dean lets out a low whistle and nudges Cas’s neck with his arm, fingers brushing the worn fabric of Dean’s old ACDC shirt, a bit too big over Cas’s thin shoulders.

“That one fucking rocks,” he says, and nudges Cas again. “Who’s that?” 

Cas sucks in a shuddering breath and leans to rest his head on Dean’s stomach, fingers reaching out once more for the monitor.

“Me.”

 LKDFJDSLKFJADS;LFKADSJF;LDSKFJ;DSLKFJ;LADSKFJ;ADSLKFJAS;DLKFNUASD;OAIFAJ;LKAJR;OIUD;OAFIDSU;OAIERJFLKDSJF;ODSIFJLDFKGHDF;OIUG;DFOIGSJF;GSKDFG;LSHG;TOIERUJ;LKJDFLGIUDROITNRLKGDF;OIDUJAFLKDSJFOIAUDFKLDSJSIODFU;ADSILFDSLFIUEOIJDLKJ

THIS IS FUCKING BEAUTIFUL AND ALL OF THE FEELINGS

#this might just be my favorite fanfic of Dean/Cas that does not consist any porn whatsoever

Excuse me while I remove my jaw from the floor


brodinsons:

oldandnewfirm:

beckyybarnes:

Vin Diesel does the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge


iwatchforsasha:

Fantastic Breasts and Where to Find Them


steve rogers + cards against humanity (insp.)


justadashofsarcasm:

deluxetoaster:

can we start a club for teenagers who were constantly complimented on their intelligence when they were younger and are now having trouble coping with the realization that they’re actually of average intellect at best

can this club have a support person that helps us to study because we didn’t need to before so we don’t know how to now 


ariellenic:

This is what I was thinking of during this scene

ariellenic:

This is what I was thinking of during this scene



aos-skimmons:

that-big-gay-impala:

THE SARCASM IN THIS POST IN LETHAL

woman mothers.

aos-skimmons:

that-big-gay-impala:

THE SARCASM IN THIS POST IN LETHAL

woman mothers.


rubyetc:

Filtered to HELL aw yiss

rubyetc:

Filtered to HELL aw yiss


thedailywhat:

Re-Cut Trailer of the Day: Ferris Bueller’s Day Off re-cut as a Sofia Coppola-esque indie coming-of-age film.

[reddit.]