reblogged 9 hours ago @ 17 Sep 2014 with 4,686 notes via/source
universeisinmyhead:

EXCUSE ME!!!?? This makes Moffat sense 😱😱😭 #mollyhooper #molly #hooper #sherlock #sherlockian #sherlockians #sherlockholmes #moran #221backtotheinsanity

NO FUCK YOU
that would be awesome
FUCK YOU! HOW DARE YOU DO THAT
I really want it though

universeisinmyhead:

EXCUSE ME!!!?? This makes Moffat sense 😱😱😭
#mollyhooper #molly #hooper #sherlock #sherlockian #sherlockians #sherlockholmes #moran #221backtotheinsanity

NO FUCK YOU

that would be awesome

FUCK YOU! HOW DARE YOU DO THAT

I really want it though

reblogged 2 days ago @ 15 Sep 2014 with 28 notes via/source
xfuck xsherlock xmolly hooper
reblogged 2 days ago @ 15 Sep 2014 with 26,929 notes via/source
Harry Potter: Tell us about a scar on your body
Hermione Granger: What is your favorite book, how many times have you read it, and why do you love it?
Ron Weasley: Something you're afraid of?
Luna Lovegood: One thing that makes you different from everyone else.
Fred Weasley: Can you do any magic tricks? What is the best one you can do? If you can't do any, what's the best one you've seen?
George Weasley: What is the best prank you've ever played on someone?
Neville Longbottom: Tell us an embarrassing story.
Narcissa Malfoy: Do you have a good relationship with your family? Who are you closest to?
Voldemort: If you were to create a Horcrux(s), what would it be and why?
Bellatrix Lestrange: Have you ever loved someone who could never love you back?
Ginny Weasley: Have you ever been in love with an unexpected person?
Hedwig: If you went to Hogwarts, what kind of pet would you bring? (ex: cat, owl, rat, frog)
Draco Malfoy: Is it better to be feared or to be loved?
Rubeus Hagrid: What is your favorite mystical creature?
Dolores Umbridge: Make a list of rules that your family (or whoever you choose) would have to follow if you made the rules.
Lucius Malfoy: What is your most prized possession?
Molly Weasley: What is the proudest moment of your life?
Dobby: Who are you most loyal to?
Sirius Black: Have you ever been accused of doing something you didn't do?
Argus Filch: What's the worst job you've ever had?
Dudley Dursley: How many presents do you usually receive on your birthday?
Peter Pettigrew: Are you a leader or a follower?
Cedric Diggory: Have you ever had a near death experience?
Albus Dumbledore: What is the greatest obstacle you have ever overcome in your life?
Minerva McGonagall: What is your favorite spell?
Severus Snape: Are you a trustworthy person?
Remus Lupin: If you transform into any one animal or creature, which one would it be?
Uncle Vernon: What is your favorite day of the week?
Mad Eye Moody: Who is the bravest person you know?
Arthur Weasley: What do you think is the best "muggle" invention?
Professor Sprout: What is your favourite class that is offered at Hogwarts?
Nymphadora Tonks: If you could change one thing about your appearance what would it be?
Moaning Mertile: What is something that always makes you cry?
James Potter: Would you risk your life to save someone you truly love?
Lily Potter: What color eyes do you have?
Professor Trelawney: Have you ever dreamt something was going to happen and then it happened?
Mr. Ollivander: What would your wand look like?
Lavender Brown: Who is the last person who texted and have you ever had a crush on them?
Cho Chang: If you were on the Quidditch team, what position would you play?
Aunt Petunia: What is your favorite flower?
reblogged 5 days ago @ 12 Sep 2014 with 153,558 notes via/source
sidizenkane:

mizufae:

pastel-gizibe:

shannonwest:

equalityandthecity:

(via Students help Emma Sulkowicz carry mattress to class in first collective carry)

Y E S 

IT IS GETTING BETTER

When I first read about this woman’s plan I thought it was a strong idea but I was worried that it was a little bit much for one person, no matter how dedicated, to keep it up for too long, especially since she has, you know, college to commit to. I never thought about how, if other people helped her carry her burden, I never thought about how much it would look like pallbearers with a coffin. Which is simply one of the strongest visual symbols one can use to disturb people in the western world.

Wow

sidizenkane:

mizufae:

pastel-gizibe:

shannonwest:

equalityandthecity:

(via Students help Emma Sulkowicz carry mattress to class in first collective carry)

Y E S 

IT IS GETTING BETTER

When I first read about this woman’s plan I thought it was a strong idea but I was worried that it was a little bit much for one person, no matter how dedicated, to keep it up for too long, especially since she has, you know, college to commit to. I never thought about how, if other people helped her carry her burden, I never thought about how much it would look like pallbearers with a coffin. Which is simply one of the strongest visual symbols one can use to disturb people in the western world.

Wow

reblogged 5 days ago @ 12 Sep 2014 with 188,755 notes via/source
planetsoda:

officialmcdonaldsblog:

pikachucastiel:

ghostofbucky:

getinthefuckingjaeger:

nostopdasgay:

catslock:

condelimoncio:

 MY WHOLE LIFE IS A LIE

THAT’S CHEATING

This is a blatant violation of trust

YOU LYING FUCKS I SPENT MY WHOLE LIFE ADMIRING THE BRICK LAYERS THAT ALWAYS LAY THE BRICKS NEAT AND PERFECTLY LINED UP HOLY SHIT I LOOK UP TO YOU HOW COULD YOU

I guess we shouldn’t mention this either then…




did u ppl seriously think that they would individually lay down thousands of bricks?????

YES

planetsoda:

officialmcdonaldsblog:

pikachucastiel:

ghostofbucky:

getinthefuckingjaeger:

nostopdasgay:

catslock:

condelimoncio:

 MY WHOLE LIFE IS A LIE

THAT’S CHEATING

This is a blatant violation of trust

YOU LYING FUCKS I SPENT MY WHOLE LIFE ADMIRING THE BRICK LAYERS THAT ALWAYS LAY THE BRICKS NEAT AND PERFECTLY LINED UP HOLY SHIT I LOOK UP TO YOU HOW COULD YOU

I guess we shouldn’t mention this either then…

image

did u ppl seriously think that they would individually lay down thousands of bricks?????

YES

reblogged 5 days ago @ 12 Sep 2014 with 333,937 notes via/source

14littlejazcicles:

cloaga:

Slytherin wasn’t the only founder to leave a concealed chamber at Hogwarts— before her death, Helga Huffelpuff created a secret room which would help all students, regardless of house affiliation or purity of blood. It’s been called many things throughout the centuries; today it’s known as the Room of Requirement. 

HEADCANON ACCEPTED

reblogged 5 days ago @ 12 Sep 2014 with 64,999 notes via/source
xharry potter

iwriteaboutfeminism:

Will Darren Wilson ever be arrested?

reblogged 5 days ago @ 12 Sep 2014 with 34,264 notes via/source
arrghigiveup:

jabberwockypie:

deadcatwithaflamethrower:

amemait:

last-snowfall:

deducecanoe:

ppyajunebug:

thelethifoldwitch:

Imagine Hogwarts after the Battle, after the War, sure –
But imagine Hogwarts’ students, after their year with the Carrows and Snape.
Imagine a tiny little first-year whose porcupine pincushions still have quills, but to whom Fiendfyre comes easily. The second-year who tried to go back, to fight; whose bravado got Professor Sinistra killed, as she pushed him out of the way of a Killing Curse. The third-year who perfectly brewed poisons, hands shaking, wishing for the courage to spike the Carrows’ cups. The fourth-year who throws away all of their teacups, their palmistry guidebooks, because what use is Divination if it didn’t see this coming? The fifth-year who can barely remember what O.W.L.S. are, let alone that she was supposed to take them. The sixth-year who can’t manage Lumos to save their life, but whose proficiency with the Cruciatus Curse rivals Bellatrix’s.
Imagine the seventh-year who laughs until he cries, thinking about the first-years who will fall asleep in History of Magic while their story is told.
Imagine the Muggleborn first-years left alive, if there are any: imagine what they think of the magical world, when their introduction to it was Death Eaters and being tortured – by their classmates –for having been born.
Imagine the students who went home to their parents (or guardians, or wards, or orphanages) and showed them what they’d learned: Dark curses, hexes, Unforgiveables; that Muggles are filth, animals, lesser. Who, yes, still can’t transfigure a match into a needle – but Mum, there’s a hex that can make you feel as though you’re being stabbed with thousands. (Don’t ask them how they know.)
Imagine the students who will never be able to see Hogwarts as home.
Imagine the students Hogwarts has left, when it starts up again – the lack of Muggleborns, blood-traitors, half-bloods, dead and gone – the lack of purebloods; the Ministry would have chucked everyone of age (and possibly just below) in Azkaban for Unforgiveables, wouldn’t they?
Imagine how few students there are left to teach; imagine how few teachers are left to teach them.
Imagine the students who can’t walk past a particular classroom, who can’t walk through a hallway, who can’t walk into the Great Hall without having a panic attack or breaking down. Imagine the school-wide discovery that the carriages aren’t horseless after all; that everyone, from the firsties to the teachers, can see Thestrals.
Imagine the memorials, the heaps of flowers and mementoes – in every other corner, hallway, classroom; every other step you take on the grounds.
Imagine the ghosts.
Imagine the students destroying Snape’s portrait, using the curses, hexes, even Fiendfyre they’ve been taught how to wield – it has to be restored nearly every week; Snape stays with Phineas Nigellus semi-permanently. (None of the other portraits will welcome him. His reasons do not excuse his conduct.)
Imagine the students unable to trust each other – everyone informed on everyone, your best friend might turn you in.
Imagine the guilt that everyone carries (it should have been me, it’s my fault s/he’s dead, I told on them, it’s all my fault), the students incapable of meeting each other’s eyes because it’s my fault your best friend, your sibling, your Housemate, your boy/girlfriend is dead.
Imagine the memorials piled high with the wands of the dead. Imagine the memorials piled high with the self-snapped wands of the living.
Imagine the students who are never able to produce a Patronus.
Imagine Boggarts being removed from the curriculum because Riddikulus is near impossible to grasp, even for the sixth- and seventh-years. Because their friends and families dead will never, ever be funny.
Imagine the students for whom magic feels tainted.
Imagine the students who leave the wixen world – hell, the students who leave Britain entirely, because there’s nothing left for them there.
Imagine the students who never use magic again.
(Image source.)
(From the mind of the wonderful lavenderpatil, a keen look at how students might be after war.)

Reblogging this kickass post by the equally kickass
lavenderpatil
because everyone should read it

I think… I could be wrong… but everyone Prof Trwylany (sp) said would die at the beginning of every term DID die in the battle of hogwarts? BUt yeah. The year after that was probably filled with grand speeches about those who sacrificed their lives, and how they would rebuild hogwarts, etc. meanwhile… the kids knew. They were there. They knew what it was really like. And the incoming first years probably had a very different relationship with the older kids, who’d seen shit, than in years past. I think there’d be a long year of seriousness and severity… or everyone would try to put on a happy face and pretend that Colin Kreevy wasn’t working on the school paper any more because he was dead. Stiff upper lip. But with a very subdued attitude.

Imagine the seventh years who came back. Because nobody finished their seventh year. That year was a loss. But the ones it really mattered for were them. Imagine the older kids who are up in the night because they can’t sleep for bad dreams hearing the crying from the lower dorms and finding that little girl who can’t make pincushions but can make Fiendfyre hugging her knees, and saying, “You know what, bring your pillow up, you can sleep on my bed while I read.” Imagine the new first years, the ones who hear the story on the train, who’re eleven and still young, seeing an older student sitting alone staring blankly and going over to them and saying, “D’you want some of my chocolate frogs?” because they can’t think of anything else to do. Imagine one finding someone who’s sitting staring at nothing one day and asking in a quiet voice, “Do you need a hug?” and then staying for an hour while the older student cries and cries and hugs them, because some eleven year olds are really smart (and some eleven year olds already came to the school from Bad Shit) and know that sometimes it helps to hold someone you could look after. Imagine the older students who look at these younger ones coming in, all new and safe and bright, and swearing on Merlin’s grave that nothing will ever, *ever* hurt these kids. Imagine the alumni of Dumbledore’s Army, who refused to let the fucking Death Eaters win when they were here and kicking and sure as she won’t let them now, finding things to do on weekends, organizing things, refusing to have it so that people just stay there alone being sad. Fuck the third-year rule: *everyone* can go to Hogsmeade, you just buddy up the young kids with the older kids and I mean, fuck, *who’s going to be a threat to the older kids now*?Imagine them making up insulting nicknames for their old enemies, taking Voldemort and the Carrows and Lestrange and metaphorically spitting on them every time they use them. Imagine Ron volunteering to take on the Boggart that takes up residence in the one class cupboard because no, look, the stupid thing *still looks like a bloody spider* and look it’s fucking hilarious when you take its legs off and tie it up with a bow. And the class laughs. Imagine Harry staying at the school for a couple years, even when he’s done, because once people understand how the charm worked - how because he let Voldemort kill him it meant that nothing Voldemort could do could hurt any of them anymore - everyone just feels *better* when he’s there. Imagine the nights where everyone leaves the common rooms and camps out in the Great Hall and drinks Butterbeer and tells stories and cries and sometimes there are shouting matches because people get so raw, but in the end everyone falls asleep in a pile together. Imagine all the really, truly inappropriate jokes the survivors make, the ones that make their parents’ eyes fill with tears and terrify the first years, because actually when you’ve been dragged face-first through Hell the *worst shit* becomes fucking funny. Imagine how the owls don’t have to be kept in the owlry anymore, because every kid needs the animal they brought with them; imagine that for the kids that lost theirs, or never had one, their friends finding them some, buying them some. Imagine the girl who knows the Cruciatus Curse breaking down crying because she can’t believe she did that, she can’t ever believe she would and she knows she’s wrong and evil and tainted, and Ginny holding her while she cries and when she calms down, Hermione tells her the story of Regulus Black, and about how just because you made shit choices once that doesn’t mean you can’t make better ones now. Imagine that people have been dealing with this kind of horrible shit all through human history, and people are out there dealing with it today, and yes it absolutely sucks and it’s horrible and the scars it leaves are real and heartbreaking and sometimes people are too badly hurt to go on, but also former child-soldiers play team games and laugh at funny stories and refugee kids with horrible stories love colouring books with bright colours and play games with the friends they’ve made in the camps. And these are kids who fought. Who fought like little demons. Who *chose* to fight. So yeah, it could be awful. It could be nothing but bleak from beginning to end, a year (a decade) of sternness and unhappiness. But it doesn’t have to be; it isn’t guaranteed. (and as @tygermama notes, we Muggles have been figuring out this shit: we give it names and throw our best guesses at it, and some of them are good. So there’s help there, too.)

Ooooof

This entire post is a story unto itself.

*Sob* This is much better and wonderful and … BRB, CRYING IN A GOOD WAY.

Fuck this almost made me break down on public transport ;__;

arrghigiveup:

jabberwockypie:

deadcatwithaflamethrower:

amemait:

last-snowfall:

deducecanoe:

ppyajunebug:

thelethifoldwitch:

Imagine Hogwarts after the Battle, after the War, sure

But imagine Hogwarts’ students, after their year with the Carrows and Snape.

Imagine a tiny little first-year whose porcupine pincushions still have quills, but to whom Fiendfyre comes easily. The second-year who tried to go back, to fight; whose bravado got Professor Sinistra killed, as she pushed him out of the way of a Killing Curse. The third-year who perfectly brewed poisons, hands shaking, wishing for the courage to spike the Carrows’ cups. The fourth-year who throws away all of their teacups, their palmistry guidebooks, because what use is Divination if it didn’t see this coming? The fifth-year who can barely remember what O.W.L.S. are, let alone that she was supposed to take them. The sixth-year who can’t manage Lumos to save their life, but whose proficiency with the Cruciatus Curse rivals Bellatrix’s.

Imagine the seventh-year who laughs until he cries, thinking about the first-years who will fall asleep in History of Magic while their story is told.

Imagine the Muggleborn first-years left alive, if there are any: imagine what they think of the magical world, when their introduction to it was Death Eaters and being tortured by their classmates for having been born.

Imagine the students who went home to their parents (or guardians, or wards, or orphanages) and showed them what they’d learned: Dark curses, hexes, Unforgiveables; that Muggles are filth, animals, lesser. Who, yes, still can’t transfigure a match into a needle but Mum, there’s a hex that can make you feel as though you’re being stabbed with thousands. (Don’t ask them how they know.)

Imagine the students who will never be able to see Hogwarts as home.

Imagine the students Hogwarts has left, when it starts up again the lack of Muggleborns, blood-traitors, half-bloods, dead and gone the lack of purebloods; the Ministry would have chucked everyone of age (and possibly just below) in Azkaban for Unforgiveables, wouldn’t they?

Imagine how few students there are left to teach; imagine how few teachers are left to teach them.

Imagine the students who can’t walk past a particular classroom, who can’t walk through a hallway, who can’t walk into the Great Hall without having a panic attack or breaking down. Imagine the school-wide discovery that the carriages aren’t horseless after all; that everyone, from the firsties to the teachers, can see Thestrals.

Imagine the memorials, the heaps of flowers and mementoes in every other corner, hallway, classroom; every other step you take on the grounds.

Imagine the ghosts.

Imagine the students destroying Snape’s portrait, using the curses, hexes, even Fiendfyre they’ve been taught how to wield it has to be restored nearly every week; Snape stays with Phineas Nigellus semi-permanently. (None of the other portraits will welcome him. His reasons do not excuse his conduct.)

Imagine the students unable to trust each other everyone informed on everyone, your best friend might turn you in.

Imagine the guilt that everyone carries (it should have been me, it’s my fault s/he’s dead, I told on them, it’s all my fault), the students incapable of meeting each other’s eyes because it’s my fault your best friend, your sibling, your Housemate, your boy/girlfriend is dead.

Imagine the memorials piled high with the wands of the dead. Imagine the memorials piled high with the self-snapped wands of the living.

Imagine the students who are never able to produce a Patronus.

Imagine Boggarts being removed from the curriculum because Riddikulus is near impossible to grasp, even for the sixth- and seventh-years. Because their friends and families dead will never, ever be funny.

Imagine the students for whom magic feels tainted.

Imagine the students who leave the wixen world hell, the students who leave Britain entirely, because there’s nothing left for them there.

Imagine the students who never use magic again.

(Image source.)

(From the mind of the wonderful lavenderpatil, a keen look at how students might be after war.)

Reblogging this kickass post by the equally kickass
lavenderpatil
because everyone should read it

I think… I could be wrong… but everyone Prof Trwylany (sp) said would die at the beginning of every term DID die in the battle of hogwarts? BUt yeah. The year after that was probably filled with grand speeches about those who sacrificed their lives, and how they would rebuild hogwarts, etc. meanwhile… the kids knew. They were there. They knew what it was really like. And the incoming first years probably had a very different relationship with the older kids, who’d seen shit, than in years past. I think there’d be a long year of seriousness and severity… or everyone would try to put on a happy face and pretend that Colin Kreevy wasn’t working on the school paper any more because he was dead. Stiff upper lip. But with a very subdued attitude.

Imagine the seventh years who came back. Because nobody finished their seventh year. That year was a loss. But the ones it really mattered for were them.

Imagine the older kids who are up in the night because they can’t sleep for bad dreams hearing the crying from the lower dorms and finding that little girl who can’t make pincushions but can make Fiendfyre hugging her knees, and saying, “You know what, bring your pillow up, you can sleep on my bed while I read.”

Imagine the new first years, the ones who hear the story on the train, who’re eleven and still young, seeing an older student sitting alone staring blankly and going over to them and saying, “D’you want some of my chocolate frogs?” because they can’t think of anything else to do.

Imagine one finding someone who’s sitting staring at nothing one day and asking in a quiet voice, “Do you need a hug?” and then staying for an hour while the older student cries and cries and hugs them, because some eleven year olds are really smart (and some eleven year olds already came to the school from Bad Shit) and know that sometimes it helps to hold someone you could look after.

Imagine the older students who look at these younger ones coming in, all new and safe and bright, and swearing on Merlin’s grave that nothing will ever, *ever* hurt these kids.

Imagine the alumni of Dumbledore’s Army, who refused to let the fucking Death Eaters win when they were here and kicking and sure as she won’t let them now, finding things to do on weekends, organizing things, refusing to have it so that people just stay there alone being sad. Fuck the third-year rule: *everyone* can go to Hogsmeade, you just buddy up the young kids with the older kids and I mean, fuck, *who’s going to be a threat to the older kids now*?

Imagine them making up insulting nicknames for their old enemies, taking Voldemort and the Carrows and Lestrange and metaphorically spitting on them every time they use them.

Imagine Ron volunteering to take on the Boggart that takes up residence in the one class cupboard because no, look, the stupid thing *still looks like a bloody spider* and look it’s fucking hilarious when you take its legs off and tie it up with a bow. And the class laughs.

Imagine Harry staying at the school for a couple years, even when he’s done, because once people understand how the charm worked - how because he let Voldemort kill him it meant that nothing Voldemort could do could hurt any of them anymore - everyone just feels *better* when he’s there.

Imagine the nights where everyone leaves the common rooms and camps out in the Great Hall and drinks Butterbeer and tells stories and cries and sometimes there are shouting matches because people get so raw, but in the end everyone falls asleep in a pile together.

Imagine all the really, truly inappropriate jokes the survivors make, the ones that make their parents’ eyes fill with tears and terrify the first years, because actually when you’ve been dragged face-first through Hell the *worst shit* becomes fucking funny.

Imagine how the owls don’t have to be kept in the owlry anymore, because every kid needs the animal they brought with them; imagine that for the kids that lost theirs, or never had one, their friends finding them some, buying them some.

Imagine the girl who knows the Cruciatus Curse breaking down crying because she can’t believe she did that, she can’t ever believe she would and she knows she’s wrong and evil and tainted, and Ginny holding her while she cries and when she calms down, Hermione tells her the story of Regulus Black, and about how just because you made shit choices once that doesn’t mean you can’t make better ones now.

Imagine that people have been dealing with this kind of horrible shit all through human history, and people are out there dealing with it today, and yes it absolutely sucks and it’s horrible and the scars it leaves are real and heartbreaking and sometimes people are too badly hurt to go on, but also former child-soldiers play team games and laugh at funny stories and refugee kids with horrible stories love colouring books with bright colours and play games with the friends they’ve made in the camps.

And these are kids who fought. Who fought like little demons. Who *chose* to fight. So yeah, it could be awful. It could be nothing but bleak from beginning to end, a year (a decade) of sternness and unhappiness. But it doesn’t have to be; it isn’t guaranteed.


(and as @tygermama notes, we Muggles have been figuring out this shit: we give it names and throw our best guesses at it, and some of them are good. So there’s help there, too.)

Ooooof

This entire post is a story unto itself.

*Sob* This is much better and wonderful and … BRB, CRYING IN A GOOD WAY.

Fuck this almost made me break down on public transport ;__;

reblogged 5 days ago @ 12 Sep 2014 with 74,718 notes via/source
xharry potter

staff:

Today’s the day. The day you help save the internet from being ruined.

Ready? 

Yes, you are, and we’re ready to help you.

(Long story short: The FCC is about to make a critical decision as to whether or not internet service providers have to treat all traffic equally. If they choose wrong, then the internet where anyone can start a website for any reason at all, the internet that’s been so momentous, funny, weird, and surprising—that internet could cease to exist. Here’s your chance to preserve a beautiful thing.)

reblogged 1 week ago @ 10 Sep 2014 with 180,357 notes via/source
reblogged 1 week ago @ 10 Sep 2014 with 309 notes via/source

intergalacticsloth:

askerenjaegerisfuckingawesome:

tennants-hair:

VIVA LA PLUTO MOTHERFUCKERS!!!!

DO YOU SEE THIS? DO YOU? ALL OF YOU WHO HAD WRITTEN OFF PLUTO, WHO HAD CROSSED IT OFF YOUR PLANET LIST? REMEMBER HOW IT WAS ‘TOO SMALL” TO BE A PLANET? HOW NASA, IN COLLABORATION WITH THE INTERNATIONAL ASTRONOMICAL UNION REMOVED ITS PLANETARY STATUS AND  CHANGED ITS NAME TO 134340? HOW EVERYONE THEN CONSIDERED THERE TO BE EIGHT PLANETS, NOT NINE?

BUT SOME OF US REMAINED LOYAL TO PLUTO. IT WAS NEVER FORGOTTEN. AND NOW HERE WE ARE, AND JUSTICE IS UPON US AFTER 8 YEARS.

BECAUSE GUESS WHAT? PLUTO HAS AT LEAST FIVE MOONS, A PRETTY BIG NUMBER FOR A ”DWARF-PLANET”, HUH? ESPECIALLY WHEN EARTH, QUITE BIGGER THAN PLUTO AND AN OFFICIAL PLANET ONLY HAS ONE. AND GUESS WHAT ELSE? ERIS, THE PLANET WHICH EVERYONE THOUGHT TO BE BIGGER THAN PLUTO, MAY NOT BE BIGGER AFTER ALL. AND THE BEST PART IS THAT PLUTO HAS AN ATMOSHPERE. THAT’S RIGHT, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, A SUPPOSEDLY NON-PLANET HAS AN ATMOSPHERE. AGAIN, ISN’T THAT IMPRESSIVE?

SO LOOK AT THIS. NEW FINDINGS, AND A NEW AGE FOR PLUTO. AN AGE OF RECOGNITION AND APPRECIATION. AND ALLOW ME TO CLOSE THIS -somewhat aggressive-PRESENTATION OF OPINION WITH THE MOTTO OF THE PLUTO APOLOGISTS: VIVA LA PLUTO!

Get “Viva la Pluto” to be a trending tag

The Pluto fandom doesn’t fuck around

reblogged 1 week ago @ 10 Sep 2014 with 415,171 notes via/source
xVIVA LA PLUTO

Before you say yes, get him angry. See him scared, see him wanting, see him sick. Stress changes a person. Find out if he drinks and if he does, get him drunk - you’ll learn more about his sober thoughts. Discover his addictions. See if he puts you in front of them. You can’t change people, baby girl. If they are made one way, it doesn’t just wear off. If you hate how he acts when he’s out of it now, you’re going to hate it much worse eight years down the road. You might love him to bits but it doesn’t change that some people just don’t fit.

» inkskinned, “My father’s recipe for the man I should marry” (via timid)  
reblogged 1 week ago @ 06 Sep 2014 with 286,111 notes via/source

dinogirl94:

americandreambarbie:

dewgongo:

lorde’s 17 and shes expected to smile and wave and be perfectly fine in front of millions like hell i get nervous standing up to get off the bus, ya’ll need to leave her alone

britney spears could do it when she was 17 

britney spears had a mental breakdown years later as a result of being put on a silver platter for the media and public this is such a gross response i can’t believe so many people have reblogged this

reblogged 1 week ago @ 06 Sep 2014 with 274,064 notes via/source

jasonttodd:

callmekitto:

crackiswhacksherlock:

moriarty:

jashuwa:

moriarty:

what do you mean not everyone has a toilet that washes and massages your butt

Wait there are toilets like that?

image

what an incredible experience it must be

im mildly concerned about something labeled “turbo” going near my butt

reblogged 1 week ago @ 06 Sep 2014 with 77,500 notes via/source