it really is awesome though


Alone is what I have. Alone protects me.

- “No, friends protect people.”


The story of the Kubdel pocket watch

Anti? Detention?
  • Ray: My head hurts and I look like Hell.
  • Me: That stinks.
  • Ray: *gets possessed* Have you forgotten--?
  • Me: Nope nope nope... *hides*
  • Anti: Forgotten or just too afraid to remember?
  • Me: *comes out of hiding, pauses video* Whoa whoa whoa! Hold on a fuckin minute! *replays, confirms sighting, continues*
  • Jack: I like it!

Knowing our luck, 2017 will be the year extraterrestrials contact earth and want to come visit us for a cultural exchange.

And NASA just has to fumble through some kind of reply like, “HEY! Um… thanks for the message. That’s awesome… Uh, this isn’t really the best time though. Could you come back in like… four years maybe?”

We interrupt your regularly scheduled stories to bring you this quick shower thought…

I know that we are all a work-in-progress. As a species. As individuals.

And I know that, all too often, it feels like the people who genuinely believe in themselves - the folks who really know, bone-deep, that they are great - are people who believe their awesomeness lies in being better than other people.

And I am surrounded, it seems, by peeps who I think are the most wonderful of folks in the world. Wonderful not because of all their accomplishments - though they are hella accomplished - but because they lift others up instead of lording over them.

And I know these are people who, oftentimes, seem unable to see this about themselves.

But I need to believe it is possible to be amazing and to know it, but to not let that knowledge spoil you.

I believe it is possible to give your love away freely, but to still keep it for yourself.

I believe it should be possible to say “I am awesome” and know that what you mean is “I sometimes succeed in making people feel a little better now and again and I try *really* hard to be more and to do more.”

I believe that self-love should not just be the domain of the arrogant.

So, in the spirit of this: Hello, my name is Webster, and I am pretty great. On rare occasions, I even believe it.

And, if you’re reading this, oh people of tumblr, then I think *you* are awesome.

(And I should know, I’m a great judge of character.)

This though. Like, everybody needs positivity, really. It’s awesome to create a blog like “hey, you’re great and you face unique issues related to your gender, I hope a fucking kitten bakes you cookies and declares you ruler of your own magic castle you goddamn fucking human glitter bomb of awesome”.

Talk about body positivity and all that fucking cool stuff, tell fat boys they are awesome, tell thin and lanky boys that fuck archaic notions of masculinity that try to pigeon hole what it is to be a man, you’re as much a guy as anyone.

Tell boys that cry a lot that they are just merman who crave the ocean and that tears are perfectly natural.

Tell trans boys that their experiences may be be full of struggle but they are loved are valid.

Tell boys that their masculinity will never need to be as narrowly defined as society will tell them, that their race or sexuality might make them feel like they have a limited frame on which to grow but they can be as versatile as any of the beautiful flowers they resemble.

Be so fucking positive that sparks shoot out your nipples and your ass smells like a precious cinnamon roll. That’s fine.

But your shit is negated when you have to have a whine about how awful feminists are or to stop and insult women.

Maybe stop building men up on the backs of the women you tear down.

Hi! So I wrote a fic loosely based on a post by omg-hawkeye. Check them out - they’re great!

Here’s the post - 

Warnings - very brief mentions of kidnapping but no actual kidnapping.

Clint stared at his wardrobe, a frown spreading over his features. Nothing. Well, nothing that he could wear anyway. Yesterday the team had found his old circus pictures and they would not stop teasing him about his purple costume. This was fine, as sooner or later someone else would goof up and they would forget about it - providing he didn’t remind them. This was where the problem lay – all his clothes were purple. Shirts, T-shirts, vests, dresses, cardigans, sweaters, hoodies and jackets. All in purple.

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Fucking cartoons these days can’t just have a nice, simple fun-filled plot can they?? NOOOO they have to be full of SOUL PROPHECIES and ILLUMINATI TRIANGLES AND HAVE REALLY LONG HIATUS’ THAT MAKE ME DIE ON THE INSIDE.

critch_: And that, ladies and gentleman, is a wrap for me on Dunkirk! Twas a hell of a ride, but I got to meet and work with some really awesomely talented people. Not gonna lie, though, despite what we all may think this guy’s actually a pretty great kid. Great dirty jokes and sweet as all get out. All around class act. …and yes, it did kill me to ask. 😉

Imagine Dating Clark Kent

Originally posted by sir-henry-cavill

“Hi, Y/N.”

You looked up from your work to see your boyfriend, Clark, standing over your desk with his dorky (and fake, as you knew them to be) glasses and a smile.

“Clark!” you grinned, giving him a kiss on the cheek, “What are you doing here?”

“I’m on lunch break,” he held up a bag of take-out from your favorite restaurant in Metropolis. “I thought we could share?”

“You’re too sweet,” you smiled, walking with him to the break room. You didn’t care if he was a Daily Planet reporter or a farmboy from Smallville, if he was a human or from outer space.

He would always be your Clark.

(For @justapieceofgeekytrash)