College Junior with way too much scrolling to do and so little time...Doctor Who, Supernatural, Harry Potter, Sherlock, Avatar (TLA/LOK), Tolkien, Avengers, random awesomeness and many many more :)


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al-the-stuff-i-like:

wolfenartistofhetastuck:

captainthief:

biinarykid:

93gal:

Legitness!!

i enjoy how they didnt over sexualize their prince costumes. like esp with jasmine. she couldve totally been in aladdin’s vest, but nope. fully clothed. thanks. 

laughing because Mulan looks the same

things i loved more then i expected, this

this is honestly one of my favorite posts ever

7 hours ago on October 21st, 2014 | J | 318,676 notes

stargerard:

today I went to game stop and as soon as I stepped in the guy who was working there said “the princess games are over there, babe” and I turned at him and looked him dead in the eyes and said “I didn’t know workers were supposed to recommend their favorite games when customers walked in.” and someone gasped and then I turned around and walked out

8 hours ago on October 21st, 2014 | J | 52,449 notes
roachpatrol:

mishmonkey:

notanearlyadopter:

marilynhanson:

this means so much to me. so much

Okay but like actually this is the most thoughtful gift IN THE WHOLE WORLD.
It might seem to make more sense to give Ron the precious family heirloom (remember that Molly’s brother Fabian died in the First Wizarding War; Molly has held onto his watch out of sentimentality since then). But Ron is the sixth son in his (canonically financially-struggling) family. He’s been forced into hand-me-downs his whole life. If he’d gotten the watch with a dent in the back, he wouldn’t have appreciated it; he’d only have seen the flaw. And if his mum bought Harry a new watch instead of getting Ron one, Ron would have resented that. A new watch was a worthwhile expense to get Ron a rare taste of the luxury and individual attention he has always craved.
Harry, though. Harry has money; Harry has new things. What Harry does not have is family. Harry is an orphan. Other than one photo album and the invisibility cloak, he doesn’t have anything that came with family history attached. What Molly does here is give him that; she makes him part of the family, symbolically, by giving him an emotionally significant if physically imperfect item. She gives him love in a tangible form.

This makes me CRY

Even more sad: Molly didn’t just have one brother. She had two, Gideon and Fabian, and they were twins. They both died in the first war and Fred and George’s names are a deliberate remembrance of them. Molly is overbearing in protecting her sons and keeping them close, but losing her family isn’t an abstract threat to her. It’s something that’s already happened once. And she gives Fabian’s watch to Harry because he’s her kid too. He belongs in her family, and she’ll worry for him too, and fight for him, and afskfhgl I have so many herofeels for Molly Weasely the Supermum.  

roachpatrol:

mishmonkey:

notanearlyadopter:

marilynhanson:

this means so much to me. so much

Okay but like actually this is the most thoughtful gift IN THE WHOLE WORLD.

It might seem to make more sense to give Ron the precious family heirloom (remember that Molly’s brother Fabian died in the First Wizarding War; Molly has held onto his watch out of sentimentality since then). But Ron is the sixth son in his (canonically financially-struggling) family. He’s been forced into hand-me-downs his whole life. If he’d gotten the watch with a dent in the back, he wouldn’t have appreciated it; he’d only have seen the flaw. And if his mum bought Harry a new watch instead of getting Ron one, Ron would have resented that. A new watch was a worthwhile expense to get Ron a rare taste of the luxury and individual attention he has always craved.

Harry, though. Harry has money; Harry has new things. What Harry does not have is family. Harry is an orphan. Other than one photo album and the invisibility cloak, he doesn’t have anything that came with family history attached. What Molly does here is give him that; she makes him part of the family, symbolically, by giving him an emotionally significant if physically imperfect item. She gives him love in a tangible form.

This makes me CRY

Even more sad: Molly didn’t just have one brother. She had two, Gideon and Fabian, and they were twins. They both died in the first war and Fred and George’s names are a deliberate remembrance of them. Molly is overbearing in protecting her sons and keeping them close, but losing her family isn’t an abstract threat to her. It’s something that’s already happened once. And she gives Fabian’s watch to Harry because he’s her kid too. He belongs in her family, and she’ll worry for him too, and fight for him, and afskfhgl I have so many herofeels for Molly Weasely the Supermum.  

8 hours ago on October 21st, 2014 | J | 114,157 notes

gaminginyourunderwear:

yaoiornah:

itsgeekyinhere:

Doing the do with you know who

The greatest mystery of all time solved…What Neville forget to remember in that scene.

All of this is important.

1 day ago on October 20th, 2014 | J | 174,014 notes

supernatural-tardis:

i had a crush on this guy and i decided to pull a Pavlov on him by offering him whenever i saw him  this brand of candy he seemed to really like and after a while whenever he saw me he got excited for a second then you could see his expression shift to wondering the why the hell was he so happy to see me and i swear it was the evilest thing but also the most hilarious i made a guy like me by conditioning him into associating me to a candy he liked

1 day ago on October 20th, 2014 | J | 173,271 notes

ultrafacts:

Mr Rogers Facts.

Source: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 Follow Ultrafacts for more facts daily.

4 days ago on October 17th, 2014 | J | 87,827 notes

pornosophical:

jzanity1010:

dbvictoria:

More Disney Parks facts here

TREASURED GUEST

But how could you leave out this

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4 days ago on October 17th, 2014 | J | 280,242 notes

doyathangjimlock:

Sam: This thing is filthy!

Dean: it’s just a car, Sam.

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 Me:

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6 days ago on October 15th, 2014 | J | 188 notes
plays

bigbigtruck:

nostalgebraist:

I’ve been having a bad time lately but someone posted this on Facebook and it provided a moment of pure joy

I haven’t laughed this hard in weeks

I lost it at “go home in a six pack”

6 days ago on October 15th, 2014 | J | 12,099 notes

My Dad's response to his white co-workers making fun of his accent

White Co-Worker: That's not how you say it.
My Dad: But you knew what I meant so why do you have to make a big deal out of it.
White Co-Worker: Aww come on man, it's funny, lighten up will yah Nestor?
My Dad: You know I speak 5 languages, right? How many can you speak?
White Co-Worker: Just English
My Dad: Tell me something. What does a cow say?
White Co-Worker: Moo?
My Dad: That's right, the cows in my country say that too. You know why? They can only speak one language *walks away*
White Co-Worker: *sheds white tears*
6 days ago on October 15th, 2014 | J | 91,410 notes
thepostmodernpottercompendium:

The scars don’t heal and people stare, or worse, offer her pity. Their eyes strip her and there she is, paraded naked, for them to consume her pain and feast upon her weakness. For them to narrate their histories of the war and trace tales of heroism in her wounds. 
But I’m ugly, she tells Parvati. Parvati gently traces the scars on her face and tells her she isn’t, but words, words are no armour against their stares.
Padma looks askance at her when she volunteers her body, living, breathing, to the Department of Mysteries. She must look a sight. Curls hanging unwashed and limp and tear streaks that refuse to be hidden - she tries, each time, they come back, she keeps crying though she tells herself to stop - and hands that shake in a way that shout bad decisions at everyone who notices it.
Lavender thinks of all the things she could say to Padma’s glare. I choose to be dismantled. New scars for old. I must hide.
She was seventeen when Fenrir Greyback mauled her face. She’d always been one of those girls. Pretty girls, girls who flirted and danced through life, who demanded attention and were always freely given the attention they demanded. Fenrir Greyback mauled her and she was left with scars that lingered not only on the inside, but on the outside as well.  She was no longer pretty. One of those girls, but not beautiful enough to dance and flirt her way through life anymore. In a matter of minutes Lavender Brown found herself being forced to find a new self, simply because of a scar that had ruined her face.
At least she had something in common with The Boy Who Lived.
But truthfully, she wished she could pass and pretend, as she strolled along Diagon Alley, that she was not scarred, or even falling apart. Fenrir had scarred her face and consequently placed her whole life, those horrible war years, all on display for people to come up to her and talk to her as though she was there to talk to them - that she was no more than a victim and a symbol of victimhood. A girl who deserved pity and not love and attention and the petting and cossetting that pretty girls all receive.
She was more than that.
I have nothing left to lose, she tells Padma.
They want someone - a witch, a wizard - on whom they can test the furthest reaches of magic. They’ve used magic to move cars, to do everything the electric could. Man, unmade and remade with a soul of steel, was the next logical step.
And it’s funny, being slowly dismantled under the cold harsh lights of the Department; it helps more than therapy sessions that circle around each other. How are you today? The same. Tell me how you feel? The same. Same old, same old. This is cold and clinical. At least they aren’t trying to peel her mask away and discover the whys and wherefores and the histories of the war as written on her body. They don’t care. There’s a precision to their destruction of her body, a meaningfulness that overwrites the meaningless violence of the scars Greyback left her. Each new incision cuts him out, this dirty cancerous growth that’s played on her mind for years now. 
It’s refreshing. 
A new set of scars for her to wear. A new pain to embrace. A new body to wear. Same old Lavender Brown; better clothes. 
Her therapist will purse her lips - not enough to be noticeable, that would be unprofessional - but three years of having people watch her every act and treating her like fragile glass that has been broken then glued back together, trying to save her from herself; she’s grown sensitive to the slightest twitch of the lips, the slightest crooking of eyebrow, the kind of thing most people would miss. The tiny little movements that even a professionally trained shrink can’t control. She knows them all. Knows exactly where to look for the tell-tale looks of disapproval.
But frankly, she would rather have real armour than the thoughts they want to wrap her in. Even the finest, fiercest warrior wears real armour when he goes into battle. No one sends him out, telling him that he must protect himself solely by the power of positive thinking. She wants weapons. She wants armour. Each day is a battle for her. This will be her armour, even if Parvati frowns at her and tells her she should have taken time to think about it.
No one thinks twice about giving a knight his armour before battle. Why should she?
Lavender Brown leaves the Department of Mysteries two weeks later, a body that is part metal and part wire and part flesh and bone. Magic, it turns out, works exactly the way they imagined it did. So do the scars. People stare, but for the first time in three years, Lavender finds she can toss her hair, just like she used to, and stroll down the street and truly feel unburdened and free.
For a moment, she is beautiful again.

thepostmodernpottercompendium:

The scars don’t heal and people stare, or worse, offer her pity. Their eyes strip her and there she is, paraded naked, for them to consume her pain and feast upon her weakness. For them to narrate their histories of the war and trace tales of heroism in her wounds.

But I’m ugly, she tells Parvati. Parvati gently traces the scars on her face and tells her she isn’t, but words, words are no armour against their stares.

Padma looks askance at her when she volunteers her body, living, breathing, to the Department of Mysteries. She must look a sight. Curls hanging unwashed and limp and tear streaks that refuse to be hidden - she tries, each time, they come back, she keeps crying though she tells herself to stop - and hands that shake in a way that shout bad decisions at everyone who notices it.

Lavender thinks of all the things she could say to Padma’s glare. I choose to be dismantled. New scars for old. I must hide.

She was seventeen when Fenrir Greyback mauled her face. She’d always been one of those girls. Pretty girls, girls who flirted and danced through life, who demanded attention and were always freely given the attention they demanded. Fenrir Greyback mauled her and she was left with scars that lingered not only on the inside, but on the outside as well.  She was no longer pretty. One of those girls, but not beautiful enough to dance and flirt her way through life anymore. In a matter of minutes Lavender Brown found herself being forced to find a new self, simply because of a scar that had ruined her face.

At least she had something in common with The Boy Who Lived.

But truthfully, she wished she could pass and pretend, as she strolled along Diagon Alley, that she was not scarred, or even falling apart. Fenrir had scarred her face and consequently placed her whole life, those horrible war years, all on display for people to come up to her and talk to her as though she was there to talk to them - that she was no more than a victim and a symbol of victimhood. A girl who deserved pity and not love and attention and the petting and cossetting that pretty girls all receive.

She was more than that.

I have nothing left to lose, she tells Padma.

They want someone - a witch, a wizard - on whom they can test the furthest reaches of magic. They’ve used magic to move cars, to do everything the electric could. Man, unmade and remade with a soul of steel, was the next logical step.

And it’s funny, being slowly dismantled under the cold harsh lights of the Department; it helps more than therapy sessions that circle around each other. How are you today? The same. Tell me how you feel? The same. Same old, same old. This is cold and clinical. At least they aren’t trying to peel her mask away and discover the whys and wherefores and the histories of the war as written on her body. They don’t care. There’s a precision to their destruction of her body, a meaningfulness that overwrites the meaningless violence of the scars Greyback left her. Each new incision cuts him out, this dirty cancerous growth that’s played on her mind for years now.

It’s refreshing.

A new set of scars for her to wear. A new pain to embrace. A new body to wear. Same old Lavender Brown; better clothes.

Her therapist will purse her lips - not enough to be noticeable, that would be unprofessional - but three years of having people watch her every act and treating her like fragile glass that has been broken then glued back together, trying to save her from herself; she’s grown sensitive to the slightest twitch of the lips, the slightest crooking of eyebrow, the kind of thing most people would miss. The tiny little movements that even a professionally trained shrink can’t control. She knows them all. Knows exactly where to look for the tell-tale looks of disapproval.

But frankly, she would rather have real armour than the thoughts they want to wrap her in. Even the finest, fiercest warrior wears real armour when he goes into battle. No one sends him out, telling him that he must protect himself solely by the power of positive thinking. She wants weapons. She wants armour. Each day is a battle for her. This will be her armour, even if Parvati frowns at her and tells her she should have taken time to think about it.

No one thinks twice about giving a knight his armour before battle. Why should she?

Lavender Brown leaves the Department of Mysteries two weeks later, a body that is part metal and part wire and part flesh and bone. Magic, it turns out, works exactly the way they imagined it did. So do the scars. People stare, but for the first time in three years, Lavender finds she can toss her hair, just like she used to, and stroll down the street and truly feel unburdened and free.

For a moment, she is beautiful again.

6 days ago on October 15th, 2014 | J | 95 notes
potatokraken:

lychgate:

xxthesmittenkittenxx:

little-missandry:

catastrofe:

waterbending at its finest

Dear white people,
Please stop cosplaying as PoC characters.
Thank you.
Sincerely,Everyone.

Dear little-missandry,
Anyone can cosplay as anyone/anything they want. Also, that’s the actual voice actress for Korra. She literally IS the avatar.
Thank you
Sincerely,
XxTheSmittenKittenxX

SLAMMED

Its also funny because if someone with darker skin cosplayed a white character they’d talk about how brave and awesome the person is.
ANYONE SHOULD COSPLAY ANYTHING THEY WANT

potatokraken:

lychgate:

xxthesmittenkittenxx:

little-missandry:

catastrofe:

waterbending at its finest

Dear white people,

Please stop cosplaying as PoC characters.

Thank you.

Sincerely,
Everyone.

Dear little-missandry,

Anyone can cosplay as anyone/anything they want. Also, that’s the actual voice actress for Korra. She literally IS the avatar.

Thank you

Sincerely,

XxTheSmittenKittenxX

SLAMMED

Its also funny because if someone with darker skin cosplayed a white character they’d talk about how brave and awesome the person is.

ANYONE SHOULD COSPLAY ANYTHING THEY WANT

6 days ago on October 15th, 2014 | J | 497,518 notes

scribblesdhobbit:

atomskdluffy:

curvyrainbowboi:

thnderthighs314:

markoruffalo:

batmasterson:

That sounds cool. BUT HOW DOES IT WORK?

(Helicarrier Hulk wakes up, no control, attacks everyone. New York Hulk is good guy buddy only hurt bad guy. Wait! OK! Loki was harshing the vibe on the helicarrier. No, wait further, Loki was just as there in New York. In fact, quite close to Mr. Grabby Hulk.)

I am continually drawn to this dumb film by the interaction between Downey and Ruffalo. I am continually put off by this dumb film by how dumb it is.

Wow, look at this! It’s 2014, and people are still saying things like this! Amazing!!! :D Here, let me explain to you why, and how:

First of all, why do people keep forgetting that The Incredible Hulk happened?? In that film it was shown that Bruce can actually control the Hulk when he deliberately hulks out.

Please notice that Bruce hulked out on the helicarrier because something blew up and he was thrown so hard he fell one floor down through the window. It was obvious that Bruce was hurt and in danger.

Hulk exists to protect Bruce, Bruce was in danger, you do the math.

Not to mention that Bruce was understandably angry at Natasha and Fury because he felt like they’d lied to him. (Therefore, causing Hulk to went after Natasha).

Manhattan Hulk showed up because Bruce ‘asked’ him to. Because he fucking did it on purpose. The Hulk is the physical manifestation of Bruce’s emotions — all his anger, frustration, empathy, sadness, disappointment, sympathy, love, hate, everything. That’s why Hulk knew which are the bad ones and which are the good ones, that’s why he saved Tony from falling off the sky, that’s why he listened to Steve’s orders. Hulk isn’t just some mindless beast who has no feelings whatsoever. He recognised and saved Betty in the midst of his rampage in TIH, looked hesitant when he saw the fear in Natasha’s eyes (it was brief but it was there), punched Thor as a payback, etc. Hulk is not that simple.

Bottom line is, that Bruce can control the Hulk to some degree when he has the option or actually gets to choose, and that’s not what happened on the helicarrier.

So, yea, that’s how.

In this post the uneducated are taught that The Hulk isn’t a mindless monster born simply out of rage.

Anybody gonna mention that our lowdown was given to us DIRECTLY FROM MR. BRUCE HIMSELF?!

Took me until that last comment to realize it is actually Mark Ruffalo, the actor who planed Bruce Banner, who left that incredibly informative comment. Much respect, sir!

This is my favorite.

6 days ago on October 15th, 2014 | J | 109,413 notes

put-him-in-custardy:

this is how Parks and Recreation explained Chris Pratt’s weight loss for Guardians of the Galaxy 

6 days ago on October 15th, 2014 | J | 116,781 notes

adr0itness:

onlylolgifs:

Computer simulations that teach themselves to walk.

You’re just asking for terminator to happen

6 days ago on October 15th, 2014 | J | 80,704 notes
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