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ohsofili:

and as kind as summer. 
{ohaldir asked: elrond or thranduil?}

leafsfeelings:

choptail:

*SLAMS REBLOG BUTTON*

HIT REBLOG SO GODDAMN FAST

leafsfeelings:

choptail:

*SLAMS REBLOG BUTTON*

HIT REBLOG SO GODDAMN FAST

machinefairy:

Model: Siroj’s Gear ‘n Stuff
Styling & make up: MachineFairy
Photographer: Aven photography

machinefairy:

Model: Siroj’s Gear ‘n Stuff

Styling & make up: MachineFairy

Photographer: Aven photography

girl-germs:

So I found a blog that puts Bob’s Burgers quotes over Game of Thrones screenshots and it is gold.

lywinis:

wasthatnotprocedure:

cat-of-chaos:

clint-you-dummy:

pluvialcity:

But seriously is there even a single actor in the MCU who doesn’t have the most 

ridiculously

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tragic

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adorable

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comically oversized

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overwrought

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puppy dog eyes in the damn universe?

(well, except Clint)

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Awww I dunno. I present to you this:

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Sorry you missed arguably the best one:

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seafoamgreeen:

Pixar + RAWR!

nonelikerae:

Want

nonelikerae:

Want

Contents Under Pressure

iamuhura:

ruckawriter:

I rarely use this to just blog. I’m going to just blog now, so you can all just ignore this if it’s not to your liking.

Warning. Contents under pressure.

Read More

Wow. Greg Rucka is super for reals not here for your sexist bullshit in nerd or geek communities. Also, something that stuck out to me was this passage:

"Portland Public Schools has a lottery system to get into its magnet programs. For two years, our daughter has been dreaming of attending one specific middle school, one that’s art focused. She’s been in a science-and-math magnet program, and she’s done very well there, mind, but the social aspect… it’s been grinding her down. She was looking to escape. She was looking to go to a place where, she imagined, she could be who she is and not suffer for it."

His daughter, thriving academically in the math and science program is looking to leave for an art program because the SOCIAL ASPECT (read: sexist microaggressions based on her gender) is wearing her down.

She’s 10.

And what’s devastating to me and so many others who will nod their heads while reading this post is that even if she overcomes this particular gauntlet and sticks with science and math? There’s going to be another one. And another one. And another one. All through high school, undergrad, graduate school, her first job, her entire career. Until she quits because she just can’t take another day of suffering to be simply who she is. Because there’s not enough support or resources or even people acknowledging that it is a *systemic* problem that needs to be addressed at every level.

How bad do things have to get?

lady-z13:

darklyspectre:

lady-z13:

i really need to go get ready for going to class and all that but

one more time now

NECROMANCERRRRRRRRRR

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lel mages are losers. warrior 4 life

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fuckyeahthespianpeacock:

saltheria:

yeffyaboyuice:

mythchief:

So there I was, ready to take a shower. I mean, I was dirty, a little greasy, a shower was not such a horrible idea. People take showers, amiright? Of course!
I get naked.
FULL naked.
REAL naked.
I’m talking the exact opposite reason why you ever went to your grandmother’s house.
No cookies. Blatant nudity.
That’s how folks take showers these days, right? Well, I pull back the curtain…
And there it was.
This…thing…sitting on the little soap/shower/pube shelf. Not a care in the world, like it’s been there for years. “What the fuck is that?” I think to myself.
Now, what follows is the exact pattern of thought that took me from rational human being to Sloth in 3.4 seconds.
“Is that a Red Lobster cheesy biscuit? Holy fuck that’s a Red Lobster cheesy biscuit. OMG why would someone leave that unattended. Those things are so delicious. I’m gonna eat the fuck out of it. Man, I can’t wait to see whoever left it’s face when they come back to find that someone ate their cheesy biscuit’s fuck. Ohhh boy.”
Then my brain sent a message to my arm that said, “Reach for that cheesy biscuit, bitch. WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!?”
As you must already know, we are all contractually bound to make a dickload of mistakes throughout our lifetime. Some of those mistakes are so big that they forever hinder our world and warrant entire chapters in our children’s history books. However, most mistakes have the dubious providence of merely haunting one’s soul and festering amidst the subconscious for always and eternity.
This was, nearly, one of those.
If my adjacency to failure could be measured, the only possible unit of measurement to appropriate it would be “baby condoms”. And no, I do not mean those horrendous papoose-like titty-cribs that the slovenly carriage their spawn around in in Wal-Mart, I mean condoms that a baby would wear.
My adjacency to failure was roughly 1 and a half Kiddie Trojans.
I’m not sure what stopped me, be it cosmic or supernatural, but it gave my brain just enough time to ask itself some rather important questions regarding this little tub treasure. Questions like:
“WHO, THE FUCK, WOULD LEAVE A CHEESY BISCUIT IN MY SHOWER?!”
And inquiries such as:
“AND WHY WERE YOU GOING TO EAT IT, MORON?!”
Seriously, was I so hungry that I would wantonly disobey all the integral conditioning and survival imprinting my parents bestowed upon me like the ever important, “Um, don’t eat that biscuit retard, you don’t know where it’s been or whose it is and also you found it in the shower.” in order to satisfy something so benign as a munchie?
That, I’m sorry to say, was pretty much my reality.
An early morning introspective psychological evaluation of a sad, hungry, naked man who almost ate a bar of soap.

OMG ITS BACK

This shit needs to be published.

This is going in the monologue section and I’m not even sorry.

fuckyeahthespianpeacock:

saltheria:

yeffyaboyuice:

mythchief:

So there I was, ready to take a shower. I mean, I was dirty, a little greasy, a shower was not such a horrible idea. People take showers, amiright? Of course!

I get naked.

FULL naked.

REAL naked.

I’m talking the exact opposite reason why you ever went to your grandmother’s house.

No cookies. Blatant nudity.

That’s how folks take showers these days, right? Well, I pull back the curtain…

And there it was.

This…thing…sitting on the little soap/shower/pube shelf. Not a care in the world, like it’s been there for years. “What the fuck is that?” I think to myself.

Now, what follows is the exact pattern of thought that took me from rational human being to Sloth in 3.4 seconds.

“Is that a Red Lobster cheesy biscuit? Holy fuck that’s a Red Lobster cheesy biscuit. OMG why would someone leave that unattended. Those things are so delicious. I’m gonna eat the fuck out of it. Man, I can’t wait to see whoever left it’s face when they come back to find that someone ate their cheesy biscuit’s fuck. Ohhh boy.”

Then my brain sent a message to my arm that said, “Reach for that cheesy biscuit, bitch. WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!?”

As you must already know, we are all contractually bound to make a dickload of mistakes throughout our lifetime. Some of those mistakes are so big that they forever hinder our world and warrant entire chapters in our children’s history books. However, most mistakes have the dubious providence of merely haunting one’s soul and festering amidst the subconscious for always and eternity.

This was, nearly, one of those.

If my adjacency to failure could be measured, the only possible unit of measurement to appropriate it would be “baby condoms”. And no, I do not mean those horrendous papoose-like titty-cribs that the slovenly carriage their spawn around in in Wal-Mart, I mean condoms that a baby would wear.

My adjacency to failure was roughly 1 and a half Kiddie Trojans.

I’m not sure what stopped me, be it cosmic or supernatural, but it gave my brain just enough time to ask itself some rather important questions regarding this little tub treasure. Questions like:

“WHO, THE FUCK, WOULD LEAVE A CHEESY BISCUIT IN MY SHOWER?!”

And inquiries such as:

“AND WHY WERE YOU GOING TO EAT IT, MORON?!”

Seriously, was I so hungry that I would wantonly disobey all the integral conditioning and survival imprinting my parents bestowed upon me like the ever important, “Um, don’t eat that biscuit retard, you don’t know where it’s been or whose it is and also you found it in the shower.” in order to satisfy something so benign as a munchie?

That, I’m sorry to say, was pretty much my reality.

An early morning introspective psychological evaluation of a sad, hungry, naked man who almost ate a bar of soap.

OMG ITS BACK

This shit needs to be published.

This is going in the monologue section and I’m not even sorry.

pale-quadrant:

[AGGRESSIVELY ATTEMPTS TO ENJOY SOMETHING WHILE IGNORING HALF OF THE FANDOM]

jaclcfrost:

do u know how hard it is to love a character that’s an asshole on a regular basis knowing that they’re an asshole and they’ve done asshole things but whenever u look at them u are just like. wow. u asshole. i love u. but u. are an asshole

Usually I say:  Wow. you unbelievable bastard. I love you.

liquidlyrium:

relahvant:

GODDAMIT MR NOODLE

I wasn’t going to reblog until “goddammit mr noodle”