artbymoga:

officialsamwinchester:

has this been done yet

Pluto hit me right in the feels

oops, i wrote a thing. thinking about Q playing 2048 on his phone and hating it:

———

“It’s imbecilic, really,” Q muttered haughtily from his pillowed spot, head nestled along Bond’s thigh from their perch together on the couch. He had an iPhone poised in the dead air between the two of them, arms …

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drydrunkempress:

nodaybuttodaytodefygravity:

221bconsultingtimelord:

jensenspudgymidway:

watson-i-am-your-turtle:

christianborles:

so2460donewithyou:

the-eleventh-blog:

does your period ever come late and you start to wonder if you’re pregnant despite the fact the most intimate thing you’ve ever done is shake hands?

DO GIRLS REALLY THINK THIS

yes

yes

yes

yes

that whole mary thing really freaked us out tbh

amen

i really wanna draw

Q playing on an iphone bitching about how stupidly infantile the game 2048 is with his head in james’ lap as he mouths off the exact methodology it takes to get the last tile in record time 

futamono {without people}  ➞  3/4

gwythara:

when your obsessive special interest suddenly changes and your blog followers are like wtf this isn’t what i signed up for

transparent-flowers:

"Khedive" Papaver orientale. Oriental Poppy. (x).

dudewheresmypie:

Can’t you see it? Can’t you read it in their smiles? In every word spoken and even more in those unsaid. Look at their faces. How long has it been since we’ve seen them smile? Really, truly smile? And we know it’s not fake, cause they can’t even see each other, but they’ll smile nonetheless. It’s real and and it’s pure. It’s there in gentle teasing and quiet memories. It’s in a simple question. How are you, Dean? Well, in front of Sam he’ll shake that question easy enough, never was one for chick flick moments you know. But you can see what it means to him, how he’s still surprised that anyone would even care, and how much it means to him that Cas would bother to ask. It’s love. That’s what’s there, and if you can’t see it you must have your eyes closed. Because there’s not one second of this that says otherwise. And when Cas speaks, and there it is again. I miss life on the road, I miss the smell of worn leather and whiskey, I miss you.

taikonaut:

I FUCKED UP.

DON’T LOOK AT ME.