SEBASTIAN STAN AND TWIST&SHOUT RUINED MY LIFE.

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me: ohHHHHHHH h I KNOW THIS SONG
me: I KNOW IT I KNOW IT
me: THIS IS SO GOOD
me: I LOVE THIS SONG
me: what's it called

This is the story of Amelia Pond. And this is how it ends.

(Source: infernalcup)

(Source: harrypottergif)

hedwiqs:

Welcome to my first tumblr awards! I recently reached a big follower goal, and I would just wanna say thanks to everyone who followed me, ily guys! So anyways…

rules
  • mbf the brightest witch of her age
  • reblog this please :)
  • likes don’t count as entries, though you can use them to bookmark
  • must reach 40 notes or ill cry and forget this ever happened
  • reblog until Oct. 30
  • 1 winner per category (or 2 in some), runner ups will depend on the amount of notes this gets 
categories
  • best url
  • best domain
  • best icon
  • best theme
  • best updates tab
  • best aesthetic
  • best posts
  • best creations (any type, html, graphics/gifs, writing…)
  • best posts
  • best harry potter
  • best hunger games
  • best marvel
  • best *insert fandom here*
  • best multifandom
  • nicest blogger
  • best overall
  • my favorite
prizes

Winners get:

  • +follow from me if not already
  • a graphic of your choice
  • a link on my updates tab for a month
  • 12 promos on request (lasts until the end of the year)
  • a url from my saved urls if you want
  • my eternal love and friendship 

Runner ups get:

  • +follow from me if not already
  • a link on my updates tab for a month
  • 3 promos on request (lasts until the end of the year)
  • a url from my saved urls if you want 
  • my eternal love and friendship ♥

kobetyrant:

OPINIONS CAN BE RACIST

OPINIONS CAN BE SEXIST

OPINIONS CAN BE HOMOPHOBIC

stop using “it’s just my opinion” to justify your bigotry.

We look up at the same stars and see such different things.

(Source: vinterfells)

ruffledupcas:

Cas skirted his fingers along the edge of the record’s case and a little bit of the dog eared paper came away under his touch, a little cloud of white dust. “The one where he’s wearing the Hawaiian shirt,” Cas echoed himself, but not himself. Himself as written by somebody else. He slid the record out onto his hand, the vinyl disc cool against his palm. He squinted at the etchings on the records surface, grooves that somehow held sounds that were secrets shared only with the machine in front of him. The man in the shop had shown him that the record player worked and offered to use the new vinyl to prove that worked too, but Cas didn’t want to share it with anyone. He trusted the man that it was fine, and he’d not lied about the player itself working, so why would he lie about the record?

Cas flipped it on his hand and carefully lowered it over the metal nub in the player’s middle, lifting and placing the needle onto it once it was spinning, just like the man had shown him. There was a moment where there was nothing but a quiet fuzzy sound, like a pitched down version of carbonated soda, then the needle found the grooves where the music was hidden and a sound poured out of the speakers that immediately made Cas’ hair stand on end. Soft piano for a moment, then the vocals came in, soft and low, not what Cas had expected, somehow, but smoother, softer than he’d thought. The breath caught in his throat. 

He lifted the cover and held it against his chest squeezing his eyes shut and ignoring the splitting sensation of tears rolling down his cheeks. “…like the river flows,” Cas sang along for a moment then caught himself off in a choking gasp. He swayed a little. He thought of that Dean and Cas, in the little kitchen, in a place that existed only in the mind of the author and the mind’s of everyone who’d read it. In Cas’ mind too. It made him want to do crazy things, but it crushed him, filled him this growing terror that if he ever told Dean what he felt he’d end up slumped on the floor in the corner for real, begging Dean for a response he couldn’t give him. 

The worse thing about it was understanding why the Dean in the story had left. It was so like Dean, so like him to think that it’s his fault, to think that by removing himself from the equation he’d be able to fix everyone else. To fix Cas. The record played through to the end of the song, and started on another, but before it could kick in Cas lifted the needle up and suddenly the room was swimming in silence. He waited for a moment, listening out for sounds of company, of anything, but he was alone in the bunker and he knew it. Dean and Sam were out on a hunt.

He would leave the record player here. He was sure they didn’t have one here and wondered if perhaps Dean would like. Perhaps Cas should buy him some records. It wouldn’t be hard to look through Dean’s vast collection of records and find out which ones he might like, and the man in the shop today had been helpful enough with finding ‘Blue Hawaii’ for him. Yes. He would do that. Dean would like that, Cas was sure. 

He turned off the record player and closed the lid, carefully setting the needle to the side as he did so. He put the Elvis track on top of it at first, then rethought it and slid it underneath. He didn’t want to accidentally catch sight of it in front of Dean; he’d already shown him too much the other night when he’d caught him reading the ending…

Cas shook himself, trying not to remember, but instead another thought came into his mind. It had been plaguing him for days. It was stupid, he knew, and he wasn’t misguided enough to take it seriously, but there was a niggling part of him that kept suggesting over and over that if he crumbled, if he completely broke down the way Cas had in that story, then maybe, just maybe, Dean would say, “I love you too”. 

how did i even b e c o m e this person?

(Source: sebbistans)

(Source: flyeverfree)

dracno:

HEAVY METAL BROKE MY

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Jill . 15

gryffinclaw
enfj
A perfectionist, yet lazy

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