zeldathemes
Skittles don't taste like rainbows.
When life gives you lemons, give them back and demand for apples.


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panerasexual:

the most important message ive ever received

panerasexual:

the most important message ive ever received

clannyphantom:

"maybe you wouldnt be so tired if you went to bed earl-"

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bruce-doodles:

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yeah

ravine:

you never realize how much you love sleeping until you have to wake up in the morning 

disheartens:

*seduces you with mediocre blogging abilities*

jaxonian:

Best expressions from the new ep. lol

blushy-fallen-angel:

rad-hella:

I keep thinking about how scared Sam looks here. Not just because his brother is a demon. Think about it. Dean, human dean that is, was an amazing hunter. Sam knows that. Sam has seen what dean can do. Now imagine knowing that Demon Dean, with all of the skills as human Dean, with none of the morals, is trying to find you. Scary as shit.

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit

shikideadcorpse:

raginfangirl2017:

Just a little nostalgia for the Zero kids (00’s) (born in later 90’s)

Thank you for this post

WiFi: connected
Me: then fucking act like it

We were five years old,
Trying to dig to the center of the planet
Through the bottom of the sandbox.
I asked you if it was nicer down there, underground.
“Maybe,” you said, “Keep digging.”
I got a little mad; I wanted a yes or a no.
I kept digging.

We were eight years old,
Burying a tiny bird that we had found on my lawn,
Gods, handling death in raw form.
I asked you if it was safer down there, underground.
“Maybe,” you said, “Keep digging.”
I got a little mad; I wanted a yes or a no.
I kept digging.

We were thirteen years old,
Creating a secret place to hold our box of promises.
I told you that I’d stay with you forever,
You replied that you’d remain with me for longer.
I asked you if it was lovelier down there, underground.
“Maybe,” you said, “Keep digging.”
I got a little mad; I wanted a yes or a no.
I kept digging.

I’m eighteen years old,
Stumbling to your stone and
Trying to find you in the dead of night.
The dirt covers my fingernails and knees,
Like an embrace that can never compare to yours.
The wind and the whiskey whisper,
Winding through the wilted flowers
And weathered letters of your name.
I ask you if it’s warmer down there, underground.
I would even take a maybe right now.
I keep digging.

(k.y.)