gaining a new follower
last time i did this my wish really came true. so im going to wish again
nothing to lose. :))Let’s hope
Why not? :)
i got nothing to lose. (:
Last time i did this my wish came true.
Jesus Christ if my wish comes true I will piss
please work omg
looks fun lol
IT SERIOUSLY WORKED
Well, i got nothing to lose, might as well try it
This shall be interesting😌
Want to collaborate on a Google Doc with Nietzsche, Shakespeare, Dostoyevsky, Dickinson, Dickens and Poe?
Click here. Start typing. Enjoy the hilarity.
Ninja Update: Wanna see something fun? Mention Shakespeare in a sentence and see what happens.
Poe kept writing distinctly into my sentences so I wrote ”Edgar, you’re not funny” aND HE BLATANTLY DELETED THE NOT I AM SO DONE WITH THIS ASDFKJL
OH GOD IF YOU TYPE “EDGAR ALLAN POE” POE ADDS A :( AFTER HIS NAME PRECIOUS BABY
Oh my God so I typed ‘Shakespeare’ and Shakespeare butted in and wrote ‘The lovely and handsome Shakespeare’ but Poe burst in saying ‘The dreadful and lonely Shakespeare’.
aND FYODOR DOSTOYVESKY ADDED ‘ I do not wish to make myself a laughing-stock before these idle listeners.”
Look what they did to All Star by Smash Mouth
“Somebody once hushedly told me the world is going to roll me. I ain’t the sharpest tool in the shed. She was looking kind of glocky with her finger and her thumb in the shape of a “L” on her forehead. Well, the years start voraciously coming and they don’t stop coming; fed to the rules and I hit the ground running. It didn’t make sense absolutely to live for fun. Thy brain gets smart but your head gets dumb. So much to do, so much to behold. So what’s wrong with taking the back busy thoroughfares? In everything one thing is impossible: rationality. You’ll never know if thou don’t go. “You’ll never shine if you don’t glow”, he growled incoherently. Hey presently, you’re an All Star. Get your game on; go play. Hey now, you’re a Rock Star. Get the show on; get laid. As well as all that glitters is gold, only shooting stars break the mold. ~All Star by Smash Estuary of opinion…”
Imagine putting your research paper in here and letting them go at it.
OH MY GOD I WAS WRITING AND EDGAR WOULDN’T STOP FIXING THINGS SO I WROTE “Edgar shut up I’m trying to write” and he changed it to “Edgar shut up I’m meagerly attempting to write” THIS FUCKING ASSHOLE
I typed in “Hello” and Shakesphere erased it and wrote “Begone with this rubbish.”
I typed “party in the Usa” and Poe changed party to “ill-fated gathering”
Omfg. I called Edgar a little bitch because he made something not make sense and he changed ‘little bitch’ to ‘little seething wench.’
omg if you try pasting something in it and it exceeds the character limit, Poe erases it and types in ‘THE END’
if you say “fuck” shakespeare turns it to “hay roll”
EVERY TIME I TYPE A WOMAN’S NAME EDGAR CHANGES IT TO LENORE
oh yeah that was TOTALLY it.
he went through all that FOR A QUARTER
BECAUSE THAT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE
I’m in love with the idea of Dean realizing he’s in love with Cas because of the most mundane things Castiel does.
Like maybe one day, Dean sees Castiel padding around the bunker in socks. Socks. And he realizes, “Dammit, I’m in love with this man.”
Or maybe it’s in the way Castiel scans over the newspaper in the mornings while he sips his coffee. And Dean just looks at him and thinks, “I am so fucking in love with you.”
And of course it could be over the way Castiel’s ties now hang straight and Dean realizes it bothers him, because it doesn’t look right, it doesn’t look like Cas. It’s also at that moment he realizes, “I love you so much my chest hurts with the weight of it.”
Or maybe it’s always having to remind Castiel not to leave his shoes where they can be tripped over, or the way the other guy watches T.V. with a furrowed brow, like he’s trying to understand the obscenities of daytime television. Or maybe it’s in the way Castiel is a complete grump in the mornings until he’s had a shower and at least two cups of coffee. Or perhaps it happens when Dean catches Castiel humming a Zep song while doing the dishes, hands and forearms covered in suds and blotched red from the hot water…
Or maybe it’s all of those things and one day everything comes to a head and Dean can’t stand being around the guy anymore because every time they’re in the same room together all Dean can concentrate on are Cas’ hands and his lips and hair and the way his voice is rougher after he’s just woke up, or the spaces he seems to fill in Dean’s life, spaces Dean never thought could be filled. And Dean realizes he’s either got to end their friendship here and now forever because it’s scary how much he wants to be more with Cas and he’s not sure the fallen angel can reciprocate that or he has tell Cas how he’s feeling. So he approaches Castiel with a pounding heart and an aching head because holy fuck he’s going to ask Castiel to leave, again, and he doesn’t want to, but it’s for both of their own good, right? But Dean finds him in the kitchen, seated at the table eating scrambled eggs for cyring out loud, and then instead of talking Dean is bending down and brushing his lips against Castiel’s. Gently, like a whisper, and Castiel is staring up at Dean with the biggest, bluest eyes in the entire fucking universe and holy shit Dean loves him. He loves him. He loves him and there’s no way in hell Castiel is going anywhere ever again and while Dean is processing all of this Castiel is standing from the kitchen table and pulling Dean against him with two fists full of Dean’s sleep shirt and crushing their lips together in a kiss that says, “Me too.”
Season 9 - Nothing is worth losing you.
since they forgot Adam in hell.
Stars (*, **, ***) signify the best of the best.
An arrow (^) indicates a new entry.
Note: Most of these are deancas if not stated otherwise.
*30 Day Challenge: (Canon divergent, G, WIP?, series) Fluff and cuddles and angst and hand-holding with our favorite match made in heaven.
A Broken Man &The Dawn: (Cockles non-actor AU, Explicit, 44518 words) After his brother dies in a car accident, Jensen is left to take care of his newborn nephew - and he’s in over his head. Also, he has the feeling that the guy who just moved into the apartment next door hates him because of the crying baby that keeps him up all night. As it turns out, Misha not only has that set of mesmerizing blue eyes, but also a lot of intuition when it comes to fussing, cranky babies.
Accidentally Like a Martyr: (Endverse, Mature, 8849 words) Where Cas fails at being human, fails at philosophy, and just generally misinterprets his own bullshit.
**Actus Fidei: (Priest/Angel AU, Explicit, 5647 words) On the very first time that Castiel manifests in front of Father Dean Winchester, he gets as far as “Rejoice, for you are blessed-” before Dean shoots him with a salt-loaded shotgun.
Adventures in Solitude: (S5 divergent, Explicit, 30589 words) The Apocalypse is stopped, but at a cost. Devoid of his Grace, and lost from his friends, Cas is taken in by a pair of sisters and inadvertently drags them into the mess that is his life and the Winchesters’.
this was a dream i had the other night
and idk guys i think it’s that useless prophet skill for supernatural that i have kicking in
Students who still have a lot ahead of them. Students like me, who still have dreams, goals, and students who still aim for achievements. But because of this tragedy, it all faded away.
I bow and salute to the brave students who saved the lives of others and sacrificed themselves. They are heroes. They are people who deserves a lot better than awards. They deserve to be in Heaven, a place full of happiness and there will be no more sufferings. I also pray for the lives of the family and the people involved in this accident and specially the souls of these heroes.
I hope that the students who were saved by these mighty students will live their lives to the fullest, achieve their dreams and goals and love their family more. I also wish that they will live being inspired by the heroes who saved their lives. Please do so.
And for the captain, my middle finger salutes you. Live well. In guilt. Thank you.
okay so one time i was walking into the grocery store and since it was cold and windy i had my jacket on with my hands in my pockets when a sudden gust of wind blew my hood onto my head
the thug life chose me
Really seriously flabbergasted and concerned about this.
This is terrifying and very important.
I thought this would be some sort of extreme shit or parody but
I started giggling because the sheer horror I felt looking at this meant I either broke down or laughed
so are they EVER going to stop pretending Cas is spelt Cass or
Three weeks after Castiel moves into the bunker, Sam finally starts to look less frazzled. He’s sipping his morning coffee with his feet kicked up at the great table and casually scrolling through the news of the weird on his iPad when Dean wanders out of his room for breakfast. He only gives it a moment’s pause, while tying his robe closed, before he heads to the kitchen. He’s always happy to see when Sam actually looks relaxed in their home.
Cas is already sitting on the bench seat in the kitchen, he’s picking at a bowl of cereal with his spoon and looking slightly… pissed maybe? A little angry and a little sad.
True, it’s not his usual fare. It’s not banana bread, or eggs on toasted sourdough with tomatoes, or big fat muffins with coffee. Dean doesn’t think he’s ever seen Cas take breakfast so lightly.
"Can’t have it all, I guess," Dean mutters.
Cas looks up. “What?”
"Well, I’ve either got a happy you or a happy Sam, lately. I can’t seem to get both at the same time."
"Oh, yes," Cas gripes uncharitably, "I’m sure Sam’s very happy with himself right now.”
Huh. That’s not like Cas.
Dean rubs the sleep from his eyes and moves into family counselling mode. As soon as he’s poured himself some caffeine and maybe started throwing together something to eat he can—
He opens the fridge to a flurry of color.
It’s packed, as always. They’re three big guys, they go through a lot of food.
But now there’s little post-its fluttering on almost every bag and container and bottle in the refrigerator.
They are neon orange and some of them bright blue, like Sam ran out of the first color half-way through labelling everything. It was definitely Sam who did it, that’s his scrawl across each of the post-its. Different items with SAM and DEAN and CASS stuck to the front.
There are more for Dean than anyone else. He does the shopping, after all, and is sort of self-appointed King of the Kitchen.
There are plenty for Sam and a lot of the post-its with his name are stuck to the frou-frou-tofu crap and light beers that only he would want in the first place.
The fewest are labelled for Castiel.
Dean starts yanking the ones with his name off. “Cas, you can eat any of my stuff you want. Don’t listen to him.”
Cas doesn’t comment. Dean glances over his shoulder to see that Cas is still poking at the frosted biscuits in his bowl.
The mood lightens over breakfast as Dean shares some of his waffles with Cas, but Cas gives Sam a bit of the cold-shoulder for the rest of the day.
Dean pulls his brother aside at one point and tells him that if he’s gotta pull this stupid shit, he should just put post-its on the things of his that he doesn’t want Cas or Dean to touch. Sam shrugs, agrees.
And then, a few days later, another flurry of color as Dean walks into the bathroom.
The bunker has this huge room with showers and sinks, in the style of a gym or something, so they share the space between them.
It seems Sam has been through already this morning. Unfortunately, the humidity from the showers has left most the post-its floating around, face-down on the floor, so the different shave gels and shampoos and hair products and— fuck’s sake, there’s even post-its on the different stacks of towels!
Most of the items are still anonymous since the labels didn’t stick.
Dean’s standing there rolling his eyes for a moment and adding “ban Sam from going to Office Depot” to his mental to-do list when Cas comes up behind him, curious.
He scoots by Dean and picks up a few of the papers — the last of the blue and some new bright green ones — from the floor.
His shoulders slump when he turns them over to reveal three that say DEAN and one that says SAM and one that says CASS.
"This is ridiculous," Cas says, with real spite.
"Yeah. He’s going a little overboard with it," he scoots close and admits in a low voice, "I think he noticed I was stealing his shampoo but it just smells really good.”
The final straw seems to come at the end of the week. Dean and Cas come home from the grocery store to find the library littered with green and pink and yellow and purple post-its.
Cas and Sam get into it immediately. It’s kind of disturbing. Cas and Sam are basically the best geek friends that the world’s ever known. They agree on a lot, if not most things, and it’s disquieting to see them chewing each other out over something they love so much.
Cas points at an area of purple post-its. “First of all, Bobby found most of these, and I found all the ones over here! You can’t possibly divide the books between us, Sam! We all need to do research!”
"There are ones I need to reference all the time and you’re always bogarting them in your friggin’ bedroom! I search high and low for ‘em and I can never find them when I need them! And then him!” Sam points at Dean, “getting potato chip grease stains inside the Bergell Charm Directory and stuffing his stupid Hunger Games books into the spell tomes like we don’t know he’s reading them!”
"Hey!" Dean shouts, defensive.
"If you need a book you can ask me where it is, Sam!" Cas yells back.
"I shouldn’t have to ask! It’s—"
They’re very silent for a sudden moment.
Cas glares daggers. “Were you gonna say it’s your library? Is that what you’re getting at Sam Winchester?" he hisses.
Woah. Okay. This is getting scary. Dean steps between them. “No, that’s not what he said. This is DEFINITELY everyone’s library and we ALL have to use it. Both of you just calm down.”
"I’ll calm down when we can find where somebody left the Eymerich Grimorie,” Sam glares through Dean like he wants to open Cas up and see if the book rattles out of him.
"I’ll calm down when Sam learns to respect the people he lives with and stops accusing me of taking his useless crap,” Cas snaps.
Sam’s spine clicks him up to his full height all of a sudden. “If it’s all so useless why do you keep taking it?!”
"Dean was the one who used up your sprouts in a sandwich! He just doesn’t want to admit to knowing what sprouts are!" Cas shouts.
"How did you know that?" Dean’s drowned out by the yelling.
"And I’m not the one who labels a pile of wet towels under some random name because they can’t be bothered to do the laundry until it smells moldy!"
"Random name?" Sam and Dean both echo.
"MY NAME IS CAS!" Cas yells in their faces. He turns and flips a book closed to reveal the last of the stack of purple post-its. "Here, I’ll spell it for you:" and he writes on the post-it in black marker, C-A-S.
He rips it off the stack, turns, and slaps it on Dean’s forehead.
"Sea-aye-ess," Cas spells out, pointing to each letter as if Sam needs specific instruction. "One S. ONLY ONE S. I have no earthly idea where you’re getting that extra S from since there’s only a single S in C a s t i e l ,” he says, slow but loud, like he’s talking to someone who refuses to fucking learn.
"I don’t know any ‘Cass,’ he certainly doesn’t live here or I’m sure I’d have FUCKING MET HIM,” Cas snaps, throws the marker at the table so hard it skids off the other side, and marches away.
Dean crosses his eyes to look up at the post-it stuck above his nose.
Sam continues to look petulant but he knows he got his shit called out on the moldy towel situation. “Fine,” he shrugs stiffly. “One S,” he rolls his eyes like, wow, what’s the big deal.
Dean plucks the post-it off his face. “Hey, there really is only one S in Castiel, I mean, it makes sense.” He stares off in the direction Cas stomped off. “I’m actually pretty proud of him for, like, asserting his identity.”
Sam ticks a frown that would be agreement and admiration if he weren’t still being pissy.
He turns to leave the room, maybe go apologize.
But first he turns back.
"Cas labelled you for himself," he says to Dean. And smirks. And leaves.
Dean turns around the post-it on his thumb. “Huh.”
@mishacollins:My daughter is 1&1/2. She only says three words clearly: “mama,” “dadda,” & “Россия.” (She’s also anti-war.)
5.16 | 9.18
Are you fucking kidding me? This was a line from the episode where Dean guilted Sam out of his own lifeline memories and threw the symbol of their relationship away literally to hurt Sam?
I was better off not realizing that. Gadreel really did have access to Sam’s memories. Holy crap.
Oh yeah, the one where his “good” memories aren’t allowed to be good anymore. Right. Good to know Sam’s still thinking about it.