navigation


the-beauty-of-words-blog:





Poetry

the-beauty-of-words-blog:

Poetry


a weecest fanmix for stolen kisses and forbidden nights


they just don’t get it, do they sammy?
no, they don’t, dean.
you see, we’re the ones you should be afraid of.


"one day you’re a soap opera star and next your two best friends are an energetic 6’4 puppy and a crazy person who commissions skittle portraits of your face" - jensen ackles.


deansboyking:

spn meme: favorite quotes {1/9}

4.02 Are You There, God? It’s Me, Dean Winchester.


Keep fighting. Take care of my wheels. Sam, remember what Dad taught you… okay? And remember what I taught you. 



broughttoyoubytheletterq:

theleeryone:

broughttoyoubytheletterq:

what do you call a dictionary on drugs

If you say addictionary I swear to fucking god I will cut you

I was gonna say ‘high definition’ but yours is better


ivyblossom:

Sherlock Holmes is, if nothing else, odd-looking. He is a truly weird collection of physical characteristics that by rights shouldn’t work, but do. He’s all angles, for a start. He has small, sharp eyes. He’s a bit old-fashioned looking, a bit out of place. His hands are too big, his arms don’t seem to fit properly. His neck is too long. His waist is tiny. He’s skinny. His face is long and thin, intense and tightly controlled, but his hair plays paradox and is shiny, joyful, and out of control. Physically, it’s like he doesn’t make sense. But you can’t take your eyes off him. You can’t figure out how he works, and you want to try. You can only imagine that some part of him rests in another dimension, just outside of your range of vision, making him so oddly beautiful. You want to touch him, but you know you can’t.
John Watson, on the other hand, is perfect. Perfectly normal, perfectly ordinary, the golden ratio of a man. His eyes, nose, and mouth fit perfectly into his face. His hands are precisely the size and shape they should be: his torso is neither too long, nor too short. He is the platonic ideal of a man, a Vitruvian man. You can tell by looking at him that, if you measured his outstretched arms, you would also be calculating his height, down to the last inch. He is so perfectly in proportion that he easy to overlook. When he walks he is perfectly stable, because his legs are the perfect length for his body, and so he has a perfect stride. He does not stomp, lose his balance, or stumble. If you aim for where his heart ought to be, you won’t miss, because where his heart is supposed to be is precisely where it is. John Watson is the most perfectly ordered man you can imagine. Misjudge him, and he might kill you.

ivyblossom:

Sherlock Holmes is, if nothing else, odd-looking. He is a truly weird collection of physical characteristics that by rights shouldn’t work, but do. He’s all angles, for a start. He has small, sharp eyes. He’s a bit old-fashioned looking, a bit out of place. His hands are too big, his arms don’t seem to fit properly. His neck is too long. His waist is tiny. He’s skinny. His face is long and thin, intense and tightly controlled, but his hair plays paradox and is shiny, joyful, and out of control. Physically, it’s like he doesn’t make sense. But you can’t take your eyes off him. You can’t figure out how he works, and you want to try. You can only imagine that some part of him rests in another dimension, just outside of your range of vision, making him so oddly beautiful. You want to touch him, but you know you can’t.

John Watson, on the other hand, is perfect. Perfectly normal, perfectly ordinary, the golden ratio of a man. His eyes, nose, and mouth fit perfectly into his face. His hands are precisely the size and shape they should be: his torso is neither too long, nor too short. He is the platonic ideal of a man, a Vitruvian man. You can tell by looking at him that, if you measured his outstretched arms, you would also be calculating his height, down to the last inch. He is so perfectly in proportion that he easy to overlook. When he walks he is perfectly stable, because his legs are the perfect length for his body, and so he has a perfect stride. He does not stomp, lose his balance, or stumble. If you aim for where his heart ought to be, you won’t miss, because where his heart is supposed to be is precisely where it is. John Watson is the most perfectly ordered man you can imagine. Misjudge him, and he might kill you.


wisepizza:

sorry i only date pokemon masters


"Someone else is using this."
— Ancient Skyrim Proverb  (via warmblackrooster)

cleozora:

Another Bad Wolf..


hushthenoise:


cosbycoldplay:

"you have an essay due monday"

image

"you need to go outside and be a valued member of society"

image

"get off the computer, it’s 2 in the morning"

image

"they’re just fictional characters"

image


lacey-not-lace:

vivi-shiba:

vivi-shiba:

what do you call someone who idolises french culture

a ouiaboo

Exscuse me,  it’s ouiàbeaux . Get it right.