Hey, hey - it’s me.

"Isn’t it strange? There are so many people out there who secretly love someone. And there are so many people out there who have no idea that someone secretly loves them."
fuckyeahtattoos:

Artist: Ryan Ashley Malarkey
The Strange and Unusual, Kingston Pennsylvania.
haleyanastasiabites.tumblr.com

fuckyeahtattoos:

Artist: Ryan Ashley Malarkey

The Strange and Unusual, Kingston Pennsylvania.

haleyanastasiabites.tumblr.com

iwishwecouldsailoursaddaysaway:

Owl City at the Amway Center, Orlando, FL,  3/30/13

[x]

That shirt is magical. Wrinkly and snug at the same time. I’ll take 20.

colourfulpantsandarainbowhat:

WHY DO PEOPLE CALL IT FUCK, MARRY, KILL WHEN THEY COULD CALL IT BED, WED, BEHEAD


Forever and ever is a very long time, Pooh

Forever and ever is a very long time, Pooh

Even famous people with millions of fans get social anxiety over phone calls and yet my dad get’s frustrated with my inability to call people.
I mean if you hand me the phone when it’s someone I know, I’m ok. But make me be the first to pick up or make me call them, and I’m a mess.

Even famous people with millions of fans get social anxiety over phone calls and yet my dad get’s frustrated with my inability to call people.

I mean if you hand me the phone when it’s someone I know, I’m ok. But make me be the first to pick up or make me call them, and I’m a mess.

cumbermuffins:

thesociopathologist:

katemill99:

This should always be on my dash!

…can I just cry about how he keeps looking at her after he releases her? Because you’d think he would just walk away, whatever, emotions whatever. But NO. HE FUCKING STARES AT HER LIKE “I WILL RETURN FOR YOU, MY WOMAN, AND WE WILL FRICKLE FRACKLE. MY DING DANG DIDDLY DOO WILL BE IN YOUR ANGEL HAIR PASTA SOON BBY.”

ANGEL HAIR PASTA

death-the-pale-horseman:

jaackles:

tardis-mind-palace:

chainedtoacomet:

When Dean Winchester finally dies (for good, this time), Death takes a holiday. 
He spends a week going to every fair and carnival in the continental US.
He eats every deep fried concoction possible.
When his holiday comes to an end, he goes to Heaven and knocks on the pearly gates with the head of his cane. He asks to speak with Dean Winchester.
Dean is surprised to find Death there when the angels bring him forward. Death swore that their last meeting, when Death personally escorted Dean’s soul to Heaven, would be the final time they ever saw one another.
“I found it,” Death tells him. “The perfect pie. It was in Muncie, Indiana. Apple, with a flaky, golden crust. The ratio of cinnamon to sugar and its balance with the tart Granny Smith…. it was just perfect. Divine, even.”
Dean stares at Death, unsure of why he is telling him this, but then he looks down. In Death’s hand is a wrinkled, white paper bag. Inside the bag is a slice of the perfect pie.
Dean takes the bag, mystified.
“Thanks for the pickle chips that time,” Death says, then disappears into the void.

did you just give me Death/Dean bromance feels

#And Dean turns back and walks back into the gates#He treks up an inclined road until it flattens and curves around#When he reaches his heaven Dean raises a free hand above his head and yells #’SAM#CAS #LOOKIT! PIE!’ (x)

death-the-pale-horseman:

jaackles:

tardis-mind-palace:

chainedtoacomet:

When Dean Winchester finally dies (for good, this time), Death takes a holiday. 

He spends a week going to every fair and carnival in the continental US.

He eats every deep fried concoction possible.

When his holiday comes to an end, he goes to Heaven and knocks on the pearly gates with the head of his cane. He asks to speak with Dean Winchester.

Dean is surprised to find Death there when the angels bring him forward. Death swore that their last meeting, when Death personally escorted Dean’s soul to Heaven, would be the final time they ever saw one another.

“I found it,” Death tells him. “The perfect pie. It was in Muncie, Indiana. Apple, with a flaky, golden crust. The ratio of cinnamon to sugar and its balance with the tart Granny Smith…. it was just perfect. Divine, even.”

Dean stares at Death, unsure of why he is telling him this, but then he looks down. In Death’s hand is a wrinkled, white paper bag. Inside the bag is a slice of the perfect pie.

Dean takes the bag, mystified.

“Thanks for the pickle chips that time,” Death says, then disappears into the void.

did you just give me Death/Dean bromance feels

   (x)

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