god i loved this ep


One day i’m going to be able to purge myself from the itch to fanart for shows that I love/hate. today, unfortunately, is not that day.


You ever raise worms by putting an electric current to the earth? That’s what this is like.


saved by the bell meme [½ otps]: Zack & Lisa


I went to war once. Or was meant to. Long time back.
On the eve of battle I looked into the fire and I saw my death, sure as Sunday.
I saw. I knew I would die that day if I stayed.
Put on my boots, and dropped my sword, and I flew. I owe a battle.
You’re following Wednesday so that you can fight in his war and die, and for that, you run his errands? 

I done worse than that.

:: A Prayer for Mad Sweeney ::




The Lizzie Bennet Diaries 5 Year Anniversary -  Snobby Mr. Douchey - Ep: 6  (April 26th 2012)

Darcy’s boring, stuffy, unbelievably rude. He thinks he’s too good for us “common folk.” But he’s handsome! And rich! Even richer than Bing Lee!

13.05 Coda

“Even the darkest night will end, and the sun will rise” – Victor Hugo  

He almost doesn’t answer, but fuck it.  He’s had enough losses, why not pile on?  Who else needs help dying?  Who else needs help losing a loved one?  Dean Winchester, at your service.  “Yeah?”  He huffs, glancing in the side mirror.  The voice he hears nearly stops his heart.  A white-hot heat flashes through him, and he can’t breathe.  He glances at Sam, and words escape him.  

“Dean?”  Sam’s brow is furrowed, and Dean thinks he hears his name, but he’s paralyzed.  

“I…” He swallows against the dryness in his throat and finds himself thankful for the empty back road this late at night when he closes his eyes to steel himself.  “Where?”  He heaves another breath – a difficult task for him at the moment and nods despite the fact that the conversation is entirely verbal.  “I’ll– I’m on– I’m coming.”

“Dean?”  Dean lowers his phone to his lap, and Sam’s hand is on his shoulder, bringing him back.  “Dean, what’s wrong?  Who was that?”

“Cas,” Dean chokes out.  His foot presses harder on the gas, and the Impala’s engine roars in the quiet night air.  

Sam’s incredulous, and if Dean had any solid frame of mind right now, he wouldn’t blame him.  “What– what’d you mean Cas?  Dean!  Talk to me.  What the hell is going on?”

Dean shakes his head, as if trying to rattle a cohesive thought into place.  “Cas… He’s…”  Sam’s still staring at him like he’s got two heads, but Dean isn’t able to volunteer much more than those two words.

Dean flips on the blinker and veers the Impala off the main road, guiding her through the deserted streets.  When he turns down the alley, Sam shifts and clears his throat, desperate to beg more answers out of Dean.  He remains silent.  Dean switches off the headlights as she rolls to a stop, and Sam gasps.  “Dean, is that–”


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