sophie-the-demigod:

dievrgent:

in 2 seconds you’ll be singing “I’m a Barbie Girl” in your head

I HOPE YOU FUCKING KNOW WHAT YOU’VE DONE

barackobama:

sirlightbulb:

dear god I hope that no one on this website ever tries to run for president

excuse me

Lydia Martin through the seasons.

paramaline:

mastermindenby:

plantgay:

kelbii:

plantgay:

42awesomesteve:

plantgay:

tumblrcon would be such a bad idea it would be like 75% scary superwholocks probably

sorry i think you misspelt brilliant

nah its a terrible idea have you seen superwholocks they are terrifying

What do you mean, terrifying? *Drinks salt*

what the fuck

this is more relevant than ever

 

"OH MY GOD I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE LUCIFER AGAIN I LOVE HIM SO MUCH"
something you should probably refrain from saying around people who don’t watch Supernatural (via popculturesavvyangel)
pancakingdean:

You know, I’ve been here for a very long time. And I remember many things. I remember being in a kitchen. Watching a little brown pancake cook, and an older brother saying, “Don’t flip that pancake, Castiel. Big plans for that pancake.” I remember the Tower of the Buttermilk Stack, all 37 feet of it, which I suppose was impressive at the time. And when it fell, they howled divine wrath. But come on, dried batter can only be piled so high. I remember blueberry and chocolate chip, apple and cinnamon, maple and whole wheat. And of course, I remember the most remarkable event - remarkable because it never came to pass. It was averted by two boys, an old cook, and a fallen spatula. The grand story. And we ripped up the ending, and the rules, and destiny, leaving nothing but freedom and choice. Which is all well and good, except… well, what if I’ve made the wrong choice? How am I supposed to know? But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me tell you my story. Let me tell you everything.

pancakingdean:

You know, I’ve been here for a very long time. And I remember many things. I remember being in a kitchen. Watching a little brown pancake cook, and an older brother saying, “Don’t flip that pancake, Castiel. Big plans for that pancake.” I remember the Tower of the Buttermilk Stack, all 37 feet of it, which I suppose was impressive at the time. And when it fell, they howled divine wrath. But come on, dried batter can only be piled so high. I remember blueberry and chocolate chip, apple and cinnamon, maple and whole wheat. And of course, I remember the most remarkable event - remarkable because it never came to pass. It was averted by two boys, an old cook, and a fallen spatula. The grand story. And we ripped up the ending, and the rules, and destiny, leaving nothing but freedom and choice. Which is all well and good, except… well, what if I’ve made the wrong choice? How am I supposed to know? But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me tell you my story. Let me tell you everything.

"I can dig pancakes."

Dean Winchester

Twist and Flip

(via tyrannosaurus-regiment)
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