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I'm Mitchelle. 15. Indian .Here you'll find all kinds of stuff but mostly posts related to Supernatural . Thanks for visiting ! :3


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astrid-hofferson-viking:

hiccuptherunt:

pumpkinfishes:

just hangin’ out with my crested gecko BABY DRAGON

Terrible Terror!

DRAGONS!




minim-calibre:

typewriterchan:

theladymonsters:

Anyone who dismisses her as eye candy didn’t watch the same movie I did, and ought to go sit in a corner and think about their misogyny.

I mean, god, it’s the little things.  That “who do you want me to be?” she asks Steve while they’re in the car is just so raw.  This is a woman whose entire life has been defined by ‘who do you want me to be?’ and so she falls back on it because she has nothing else left.  And Steve doesn’t buy into the trap and just says “how about a friend?”

And god, her face when she thought Nick Fury was dying. The sheer level of silent devastation she’s trying not to show and failing.  

I just cannot get seeing this moving and not seeing Natasha. Because if you just dismiss her as eye candy, that’s what you’re doing (I’m looking at you, several male reviewers). 

Today’s list of standout Natasha moments (it varies):

  • Reaction to Nick’s death.
  • Reaction to NIck’s not being dead (she looks so wounded under the physical pain and confusion).
  • Suiting up and infiltrating the WSC meeting with Pierce with a gunshot wound to her shoulder. 
  • Speaking of that, saving their asses shortly after getting said GSW, using a heavy piece of equipment even while she could barely stand.
  • Using the widow’s bite on herself.
  • That moment where she pauses to gird her emotional loins before she respond’s to Pierce’s jab about the world seeing her as she is (which it wouldn’t, because of course who she is and how she is is not what she’s done).
  • The steely-eyed, contained anger bubble gum snap. (Most bad-ass use of bubble gum ever.)


unwronged:

everything in excess can be bad, except love and food





sinfully-divine-rising-demon:

petrovawinchesters:

mymindpalaceisatardis:

theangelthatfellfordean:

decourf:

camuizuuki:

do you ever just stop and think

Dean pulled himself out of his grave without any help

like

he trashed the coffin he was in and clawed his way back to the surface

like

what a BAMF is he?

yOU STOP THAT

                   (x)

FuuCK

Just incase you haven’t already cried today

Or we could say that maybe Dean watched Kill Bill multiple times?

I just want a happy alternative to explain this



ughjohnwatson:

do you ever get in those moods where you don’t feel like reading and you don’t feel like being on the internet and you don’t feel like watching a show and you don’t feel like sleeping and you don’t feel like existing in general









today is going to be a better day // learn from the past


evxlution:

your blog is automatically ugly when you unfollow me




chiltonomics:

pinatapup:

jadebloods:

sunshien:

halogenic:

have you ever had a dream that was so vivid it stuck with you in the back of your mind for years?

image

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image

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i have so many questions

this is another one of those posts where you just sit back and open tag viewer

image

We have a winner




sandandglass:

vmpreweeknd:

these next 24 hours on tumblr will be the most annoying thing anyone has ever experienced 

image





ejacutastic:

brother no



iam-lazarus:

hey do you ever think maybe hannibal just got called ‘hannibal the cannibal’ a bunch of times as a kid and it really upset him so he went ‘if you can’t beat ‘em, eat ‘em’ and fulfilled his destiny and maybe it’s not his fault he consumes human flesh or is that not the show




My hands, they hurt
As my nails, they scrape
The walls, The ones
I built around me

Bloody digits,
Slashed wrists
How did this happen ?
Could you tell me please ?

My Lungs are burning
Craving for air
In the vacuum of 
Your Empty Promises.




Beneath her porcelain skin,
Under all the lace and frills,
Inside her seemingly bright soul,
Lies a shadow darker than the blackest coal.

Her heart once light and cheery,
Now filled with pain and agony.
Her lips show mirth upon her face,
But her eyes betray that heavenly grace.

Through all the sorrow and suffering,
She stands up straight, letting on nothing.
Trapped inside a tiny space,
The pain begins to turn to hate.

Beneath her porcelain skin,
Lies an evil never before seen.
The angelic beauty goes astray,
As she becomes the angel of death.

Unleashing her wrath, she kills and maims.
Those who stand in her way, face a horrible fate.
The veil of lies she rips apart.
She brings down those who broke her heart.

Drenched in the blood of her victims,
Finally dies down , her urge to kill.
Having avenged the ones she loved,
She lies in wait of an order from above.

She’d been in hell but now she’s back.
Biding her time till the next attack.

Beneath her porcelain skin,
Lies a woman capable of the worst sins.




They see the tears
They see the scars
But no one cares
Enough to ask.

They see the fat 
They see the bones
But all they do
Is leave you all alone.

They see the pills
They see the full glass
But they have no idea
The next moment might be your last.


Tagged as: poetry,