wittyandcharming:

muchadoabouttruffles:

Okay, just hear me out for a second.

Muggleborn kid with a talent for magic. Not real magic. Like, sleight of hand magic. And then a prefect catches them doing something like making a ball appear to vanish or whatever, and just loses their shit because this 11 year old kid has utterly mastered Vanishing Spells and what the hell how is that even possible.

notjustanotherpetblog:

nevertoomanyspiders:

bogmoth:

ohnoproblems:

beepunk:

look @ this cute lil lady

i live for small lady

love u small lady

I don’t care if it’s already on my blog, stuff like this is always relevant

little bee tongue and antennae and fuzzy legs and cutie eyes!

whatisyourlefteyebrowdoingdavid:

Tenth Doctor + pseudonyms, 2/2.

1/2

wall-to-wall-shezza:

Best line in BBC history

akayavibritannia:

Zuko stop parking your freaking dragon at random places!

makochantachibanana:

cloudjustlovesthiscrapman:

egofan4evr:

HE FINALLY DID IT

the fact that he doesn’t even glance over or break sentence or anything though

HE JUST REACHES OUT AND GRABS HARU

LIKE A REFLEX

THE MOM INSTINCT KICKS IN

Me: *heals self*
Enemy: *heals self*
Me: Whoa. Whoa.
Me: What do you think you're doing?
Me: I just took off half your health bar, and then you go and do that?
Me: Yeah, I KNOW I just healed myself.
Me:
Me:
Me: It's different when I do it.

valkyriestrikeofthelashatterdome:

gotterdammerungs:

                             (x)

And then in the future, everything changes. He’s been through it all, of course-watched humanity rediscover the heavens above them, watched them begin to wonder what’s out there. He cheered with the rest of the world when they landed on the moon, cheered as if he’d found Isla de la Muerta all over again, because there was something new. New treasure, a new horizon. But then they stop going, stop exploring, and he goes back to riding tankers across the rising seas. So he’s surprised when one day he wakes up from a night with his bottle of rum (his truest companion), and hears that there’s colonies on Mars now, and they need ships to supply them. He spends the next decade crafting new identities, learning all he can to qualify for the job, and after several tries (and even more faked deaths-this immortality thing isn’t all it’s cracked up to be in the age of the inerasable digital self) he gets it. The ships go nearly constantly now, the needs of the terraforming project creating an unbroken line of vessels from Mars to Earth and back again. “Show me that horizon,” he whispers to himself, his personal prayer of thanksgiving, each time they leave orbit, because the worlds, the stars are in motion and it’s never the same, with nearly three years for a round trip the ports are always different, even if they keep the old names. And finally one trip something goes wrong with the reactor, they’re too low on power and have to deploy the backups, and Jack (Lucky Jack, they call him, for he survives too many things he shouldn’t but science has yet to accept that maybe some things weren’t old wives’ tales after all) goes out for the spacewalk to bring up the solar panels. And as they rise, geometric patterns black against the sun’s glare, he’s struck by a powerful sense of déjà vu, because it’s all here-wind and sails, a ship beneath his feet and stars above his head, horizon in all directions. He wonders, for a moment, if the reason he’s still here is because the universe wanted a witness, to mourn the end of one age of exploration, and rejoice in the birth of the next.