May. 9th, 2018

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thebianthem:

Janelle Monáe - Dirty Computer [Emotion Picture]
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monarobot:

pocketss:

it’s just one of those croissant days

Relatable today
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cheeseanonioncrisps:

priscellie:

emilysidhe:

derinthemadscientist:

hogwartsaheadcanon:

ladiefury:

sarazellman:

lestatthecupcakeprince:

tinylilemrys:

Headcanon that an outraged 6-year-old Charlie Weasley writes to an elderly Newt Scamander wanting to know why Gringotts keeps a dragon locked up underground and begging him to fix it. Newt writes back saying that sadly he’s been fighting that fight for years and no one ever wants to listen to him because the powerful families whose money is being kept safe by the dragon always shut him down, and that Charlie is the first person he’s heard of who’s as angry as he is about it. Charlie decides that day to dedicate his life to finding out everything he can about dragons so that one day he can free the poor Gringotts dragon. After the war, when they hear that Harry, Ron and Hermione freed the dragon, they celebrate and immediately begin petitioning to have it made illegal to imprison dragons so that nothing like that ever happens again. It’s only when Hermione becomes Minister that it’s finally signed into law.

This is the best Harry Potter headcanon I’ve ever seen

yes yes yes

Just imagine how that conversation would go though, like Charlie’s been learning about dragons his whole life, studying them, learning about the laws surrounding them, practising the jailbreak of dragons by smuggling one out of Hogwarts, preparing for the moment when, one day, he can free the Ukrainian Ironbelly from Gringotts.

And Ron’s like “Oh, yeah, don’t worry about it—we broke into Gringotts and used him as our get-away vehicle. He’s just chilling in the wilds somewhere now so, yeah. Job done.”

I want an AU where Ron, completely convinced that he’s overshadowed by all his brothers and will never be as remarkable or as well-recognised as any of them, just accidentally achieves all of their major life goals without noticing. They’re all super jealous and think of him as The Golden Brother and he’s completely clueless. 

I’m not sure this is an AU to be honest.  I mean:

Bill Weasley:  Curse-breaker, works for Gringotts breaking into cursed tombs and distributing valuables to heirs.  Ron Weasley both broke into Gringotts itself and destroyed the ultimate cursed object, a Horcrux.  Check.

Charlie Weasley:  Aforementioned dragon stuff. Check.

Percy Weasley:  Social climber, status seeker, desperate for attention and approval from his superiors.  Ron:  Literally married to the actual Minister of Magic.  Check.

Someone else add on to this with Weasley-twin eclipsing stunts and hijinks, I’m sure there are some but my brain isn’t thinking of them right now.

Charlie:

The twins had it worse than anyone.

They wanted to be the worst troublemakers Hogwarts has ever seen?

Ron stole a flying car, flew it from London to Scotland (breaking the international statute of secrecy so many times in the process), and then crashed it into the Whomping Willow. In his second year.

They wanted to use the Marauders Map to learn all the secrets of Hogwarts castle?

Ron helped discover the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, managed to sneak into the Slytherin common room and had weekly meetings in the Room of Requirement. Oh, and he also managed to top it all of by discovering the secret of the Marauders Map itself.

They wanted to at least make sure that they ended their last year at Hogwarts as the main talking point in the school— y'know, since they put so much effort into all those cool pranks and things?

Ron only goes and takes part in a battle at the Ministry of Magic, during which actual Lord fucking Voldemort shows up and posesses his best friend, safely ensuring that nobody’s going to be talking about that cool swamp the Weasley twins made anymore.

One of the main reasons they started Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes was that they knew that Ron wasn’t interested in starting a business and so was unlikely to one-up them in that regard (and then he ended up becoming a partner in the business…)

For years, whenever Ginny confided in her older brothers about her crush on Harry, it was a running joke with all of them except Ron (who never knew about it) to tell her that she’d better get a move on, whatever happened, lest Ron steal her dream too and propose to Harry.
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worldboxer:

Henry Cavill
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I love Tam Lin, and I love Janet, but there are no retellings that take advantage of the fact that a) Janet was the kind of weirdo who set out one morning to lose her virginity to the mystical creature squatting on her land with a reputation for having sex with and/or demanding tolls from maidens, b) Tam Lin is what you get when a fairy queen takes a changeling, i.e., a badly-socialized, magic-addled waif of a Romantic poet, with more dramatic instincts than common sense.

All I want in my life is for to Janet march into the ruins of Carterhaugh, yanking up roses by their roots, and for Tam Lin to show up, demanding her kirtle green or the price of her maidenhead—

Only for her to—stay? afterwards???

And there’s this weird three-week span where Janet just…doesn’t leave, but keeps having sex with him, and looks at him with her serious dark eyes and a scowl, and then laughs at him—at him! Tam Lin, beloved of the Fairy Queen!—and Tam Lin falls inexorably and horribly in love. (He likes her ankles, and the unlovely knob of her knees; he kisses the pox-scars at her cheek and though Tam Lin is beautiful and fair beyond measure, he is jealous of her, the scar where the shears cut into her hand.)

She scoffs when he shows her magic. “What use is it?” she asks as he offers her the dazzling armful of jewels. “I can make cheese and parse a contract, speak a little Latin for the church-men and add up my father’s yearly taxes. Can your magic do that?”

She is different than everything he’s ever known, and Tam Lin is in love. Then she leaves.

She leaves.

Tam Lin spends exactly eight months pining, panicking, wondering if she will ever come back—and yes, writing epically bad poetry about Janet, His One True Love, Whom He Shall Tragically Pine For His Whole Life Long. He compares her to a dove. It’s bad. (The Fairy Queen has him sit beside her at Midsummer, and studies him with cool eyes, flat and lovely as silver. He shudders beneath them, he didn’t used to.)

(Afterwards, he is sick in a bush, his stomach trying to empty itself of the rich fairy sweets, the meats he loved in his youth, that taste of ash and nothing more on his tongue. Is it real? Janet had asked. I want nothing that is not real.)

Tam Lin pines so long and so longingly that he’s shocked when Janet herself shows up on the even of Halloween. “Are you sick?” he asks, because he’s never seen anyone’s middle swell up like that, like she swallowed something huge, and it sits in her stomach still.

“No, you ass,” Janet, His One True Love, says. “I’m with child.”

Tam Lin blinks. “Oh,” he says faintly.

……and she held him fast and feared him not, and afterwards, he’s curled up against her side in the weak morning light of All Souls’ Day. He’s still shivering from the feeling of his skin tearing off and then twisting up around him, twisting him into another shape. It’s fine, it’s fine, he just has to keep his paws—claws—hands fisted in Janet’s kirtle. Until he remembers that his throat is human can only make faint guttural noises, that he cannot purr. He cannot wind himself around her, coils of—no, no.

“Come on,” Janet says, not unkindly. Her fingers are very gentle, where they comb through his fur—hair. “Come. Come with me.”

She helps him to his feet, and Tam Lin is dizzy with how light he is, absent the Queen’s geas. He could detach from the earth and float away. 

Except Janet is there, holding onto his hands. “Well?” she asks, and it is the first time Tam Lin has seen her uncertain—her arms full of lion, a snake, and still she’d held tight, but now he is a man, and that is a different sort of animal.

“I follow you,” Tam Lin says, and he does.
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gael-garcia:

I just wanna paint the town. I don’t wanna hide my love.
I just wanna hold your hand and be the one that you think of
When you need a holiday, when you wanna drink rosé
I just wanna paint your toes, and in the morning, kiss your nose
‘Cause when I’m with you, I don’t feel afraid. Maybe this love will indoctrinate
High I go with every word that you say. The way you feel, yeah, I feel the same way.
Remember the night when I combed your hair? I hope I didn’t freak you out when I stared.
I donate my truth to you like I’m rich. The truth is, love ain’t got no off switch.
So if the walls come tumbling down, and if the ocean really does drown, and if my memories never come back, I’ll still remember where we first was naked at.
Picture our faces and new oases. When we made love, we left many traces.

Janelle Monae & Tessa Thompson in Dirty Computer (2018)
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pagerunner:

drst:

sandpaper-blues:

let-tyrants-fear:

blondegingersaxon:

copperbadge:

ceescedasticity:

iguana-sneeze:

marzipanandminutiae:

derinthemadscientist:

bedlamsbard:

burntcopper:

meduseld:

penroseparticle:

My favorite thing is that Europe is spooky because it’s old and America is spooky because it’s big

“The difference between America and England is that Americans think 100 years is a long time, while the English think 100 miles is a long way.” –Earle Hitchner

A fave of mine was always the american tales where people freaked out because ‘someone died in this house’ and all the europeans would go ‘…Yes? That would be pretty much every house over 40 years old.’

‘…My school is older than your entire town.’

‘Sorry, you think *how far* is okay to travel for a shopping trip?’

*American looks up at the beams in a country pub* ‘Uh, this place has woodworm, isn’t that a bit unsafe?’ ‘Eh, the woodworm’s 400 years old, it’s holding those beams together.’

A few years ago when I was in college I did a summer program at Cambridge aimed specifically at Americans and Canadians, and my year it was all Americans and one Australian.  We ended the program with a week in Wessex, and on the last day as we all piled onto the bus in Salisbury (or Bath? I can’t remember), the professors went to the front to warn us that we wouldn’t be making any stops unless absolutely necessary.  We’re headed to Heathrow to drop off anyone flying off the same day, then back to Cambridge.

“All right, it’s going to be a long bus ride, so make sure you’re prepared for that.”

We all brace ourselves.  A long bus ride?  How long?  We’re Americans; a long bus ride for us is a minimum of six hours with the double digits perfectly plausible.  We can handle a twelve hour bus ride as long as we get a bathroom break.

The answer.  “Two hours.”

Oh.

English people trying to travel around Australia and wildly underestimating distance are my favourite thing

a tour guide in France told my school group that a particular cathedral wouldn’t interest us much because “it’s not very old; only from the early 1600s”

to which we had to respond that it was still older than the oldest surviving European-style buildings in our country

China is both old and big. I had some Chinese colleagues over; we were discussing whether they wanted to see the Vasa ship (hugely expensive war ship which sank on it’s maiden voyage after 12 min). They asked if it was old, I said “not THAT old” (bearing in mind they were Chinese) “it’s from the 1500s.” To my surprise they still looked impressed, nodding enthusiatically. Then I realised I’d forgotten something: “…I mean it’s from the 1500s AFTER the birth of Christ” and they went “oh, AFTER…”.

My dad’s favorite quote from various tours in Italy was “Pay no attention to the tower – it was a [scornful tone] tenth century addition.”

My last boss was Chinese, and she said when her parents came to visit her from Beijing they pronounced Chicago “A very nice village.” 

This post keeps getting better

When I was living in France, one of my best friends was from Oregon, and we ended up chatting with a French guy in a bar one night. He asked if we’d ever been to New York, and I said yes, but my friend said no, and he was aghast, like “what? How have you never been to New York?” And she explained that New York was on the East Coast and she lived on the West Coast, and it wasn’t very easy for her to get to New York, and he goes, “what do you mean, you just get on the TGV”

I met someone in Madrid once who was shocked that I had never been to Toronto (I live in Vancouver)… so we compared distances. The distance from Vancouver to Toronto even further than from Madrid to…. MOSCOW.

He just couldn’t comprehend that. he kept looking at a map of Canada, going, “Oh. So big. It’s SO. BIG.”

I’m in the US and I was chatting with a friend in the UK once about how I was going to see a mutual friend of ours who lived 4 hours away from me (but still in the same state). He asked how long the drive was going to be and I told him and he paused and then observed, “Over here 4 hours would take you through about 4 different countries.”

I told my mom I’d seen a post about that 1000 year old bell in Bad Hersfeld, and her response was, “Yes sweetie, but we didn’t think it was that special, we have lots of things that are a thousand years old.” Germans.
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fuckyeahantoniporowski:

My face when asked how much butter went into… basically anything.
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faster-than-asparagus-is-cooked:

GUYS IT GETS BETTER

“The original Wonder Woman, Lynda Carter, showed up to the 2018 Met Gala wearing a dress made by Jewish designer, Zac Posen, a clutch made by Holocaust survivor, Judith Lieber, a crown with the words “never again” in Hebrew, a Chai necklace, and a Magen David hair piece.”
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