Coca-Cola’s long experimented with its vending machines, trying to make them more technologically advanced than the average soda-spitter-outer.
In the past, they’ve been known to give you a beverage only if you give them a hug, or if you dance or sing in front of them. Now, the beverage giant is attempting a much loftier goal: world peace.
Behind Coke’s Attempt to Unite Indians and Pakistanis with Vending Machines
this video is tears — like cryingidon’tcareitmustnotbecapitalismihopeit’sreal tears it’s so stunning
wah cool!
This video is so beautiful. I don’t think a commercial has ever made me cry before…
actual tears are in my eyes
(via mapalap)
spike and dimitri are twins
and i don’t know who they’re related to
neither do we
go on
Seriously, most underrated movie evar
(via heterodynegirl)
(via hungerforfilm)
The reality is, as the show and Dean himself have made explicit at various times during its run, that John Winchester forced Dean to be a surrogate mother/spouse/feminized (in his view) caretaker role while simultaneously forcing him into as many hypermasculine tropes as he could think of and rewarding him only for being as much like him as possible. This would do a serious number on anyone’s head and I think the writers and the actor who plays Dean all realize this. Watching Dean face and resolve that harmful, abusive dichotomy over the years has been a unique experience for me as a viewer. The show has really benefited from having Jensen Ackles in the role, who has given him a level of nuance - and allowed the writers to plumb depths - that probably wouldn’t otherwise be there."
— Supernatural’s Dean Winchester Dismantled His Own Machismo — and That’s Why We Love Him [x] (via bennylafitte)
(via ablazingwings)
Different Sherlock portrayals as cats. Because I can.
House is the uncontrollable crazy cat.
Robert Downey Jr. cat is the flaunting type.
BBC Sherlock is the brooding cat.
Elementary Sherlock is the cuddly one.
Canon Sherlock is an awesome YouTube keyboard cat that Watson is always impressed by.
(via heterodynegirl)
I just really want a Djinn episode for Cas.
the episode would be cas waking up on a bed of silky underwear lbr
#i think cas’s deepest-seated wish is that his father never left #he would wake up in a world where his garrison is happy and whole #where anna never fell #where metatron never #where naomi lies dormant in the absence of any disobedience to correct #where the archangels never felt the need to jumpstart the apocalypse #where he never met dean and sam #and that’s when he decides that he’s getting the fuck out of here (x)
oh nO YOU JUST MADE ME SO SAD BECAUSE I’M IMAGINING SOMETHING LIKE WHAT HAPPENED IN DEAN’S DJINN VISION WHERE HE SAW ALL THE PEOPLE THEY SAVED DEAD
like he’s doing his usual observation and comes across sam, numb and cold and dangerously, suicidally unbalanced
and then sees dean’s grave and feels his bones deep within it and realises dean’s still in hell, more likely than not a full demon by now
and he just can’t leave the two of them like that, with sam’s humanity barely even there any more and dean trapped in now-millenia of torture, so he gives up the djinn dream. even as the djinn versions of his garrison attempt to convince him to stay, like they did with dean; naomi and metatron asking ‘isn’t this better? is one human, even two humans, not worth all this?’, anna and samandriel pleading with him, hester and rachel begging, even uriel not even angry just asking him to stay, to consider his family.
what if he wakes crying, but in time to see sam killing the djinn and dean panicked, trying to shake him awake, and dean knows intimately how awful making the choice to return can be and doesn’t say anything, just holds him
man i hate you now i’m crying thIS WAS A FUNNY POST
omg actually please and thank
(via redd-fish)
Those fucking eye rolls just slay me
Is that because it is the fucking eye roll of an old married couple?
(Source: dmitricockles, via an-endless-secret)
“An alien?”
Dean looks at him, curious; tips his head to one side much like Castiel usually does. He’s considering him, as he has often these past few weeks. He looks him up and down. “Nah. More like… a tourist.” He flips through the racks of clothes in front of them one last time, then shrugs as if giving them up for lost. “C’mon. We’ll get you some ray bans. Maybe a Hawaiian shirt.”
But they go for neither of these items, and instead Castiel finds himself awash in a deluge of fabrics and colours, hands tripping over the rails of things so pretty he could almost eat them; the world a swirl of colours, of shapes, and of Dean, its muddy-coloured accent, mocking in bluejeans and his old, battered leather jacket. He’s a leather-strip bracelet, something old and sentimental, nothing like the things he wants Castiel to choose – but Castiel has been old, has been used, and has been useful.
Privately, he thinks, he is somewhat ready to be treated as new.
(Source: marinamoryak, via thesockmonkeyrenegade)
