laugh my arse off

So the WTTM comics have over 2,000 notes combined but I’ve looked at EVERY SINGLE REBLOG and I’ve read EVERY TAG AND CAPTION and I’ve been laughing my arse off for hours.

Mending

Author Ladyoftheteaandblood.

Fluffy nonsense to prepare the way for the 25th of June which is half way to Christmas day.

I sometimes think that we never leave the Christmas dinner table, we just dream the next few months while we wait for Auntie Emma to finish her glass of wine, and then we simply start again with the over cooked vegetables being passed round the table.

I was so bored this particular year that even the thought of the crackers and what I could possible get in mine was being mulled over in my mind. My Uncle Harry was telling us as he did every year, how it was done in his day and how all he got as a child was a Satsuma and a sixpence in his stocking.

Soon my brother would regale us of his city business triumphs, which sounded like a rerun of every year, and my sister would tell us of her amazing if dull, children’s successes.

Our parents would then lecture us on what they had done on their holidays in the past year, which never involved the wonderful detail of the magical places they had seen but how the lady on the next table eat her food like an ape and how the man in the next room farted so loudly you could hear him.

Had my life really come to this, a never ending Christmas dinner?

Ah the Crackers at last and what was in mine? Why the mending kit of course, for the girl who spent her time mending every one’s life but her own. I dropped it in my bag and there it would stay with last year’s tiny screwdriver set and the year before bottle opener.

Six Months later.
It’s now June 25 (halfway to the next Christmas day.) The work day is over and I’m off home for an exciting meal for one, having been let down by my mate who had planned an exciting night out for us. She had got a better offer from a male and knew I’d understand. I didn’t! I trudged back on the homeward bound route and prayed I still had Gotham on tape. 

I had decided to go the canal side way, as it was as close to a sunny eve as we’d had in week. The ducks were swimming about, so I chucked them the remains of my sandwich from lunch and laughed as they followed me in a line for more. 

As I went to go under the railway bridge still being followed by two feathered friends, I noticed a figure huddled up against the wall on my side. I’d heard tales of girls being attacked under here, late at night but it was only 5:30pm and light. I still took as wide a path as I could around the hoodie clad body and prayed they’d leave me alone.

A voice came from the bundled up person, and I jumped quickly looking round to see if anyone else was near me if I needed help. Nope just Donald and his mate and I didn’t think they would come to my aid if I was attacked.

“Hi, sorry to trouble you Darling” a polite mugger wow,

“But have you got” he was going to ask for my money, or drugs, or worse.

“A safety pin or two?”

“Sorry, a what?” I asked, not really believing what I’d heard. I had just intended to rush by and leg it but the voice was warm and rather friendly sounding and he can’t have said safety pin

“A safety pin or two. I’ve caught my jogging bottoms on a bramble and they’ve died on me, I have a triangles shaped rip across my ….um…..butt and no …um….pants on, if I get photoed like this it will be on every internet site and news paper front page by morning”

I would like to say I was a totally lady and just helped him but I laughed my head off and then asked him what made his arse so interesting to the world. At this point he removed the hoodie and I gasped.

“Shit yes! even I know your butt” I told him, which I don’t think was the reply he was looking for and I giggled again.

“No pin then…Fuck!” he said looking about as embarrassed as a man could, whilst still being hot as hell.

“Looks like the morning papers might be worth a gander as you remember my butt so fondly” and he made to move off.

“Hold on there cowboy, I didn’t say I hadn’t I just haven’t looked yet” I walked over to where the red faced Star of “The night manager” was and rummaged in my bag. There at the bottom in amongst the fluff and sweet wrappers, was my Christmas cracker gift with its needle, tiny amount of thread and two safety pins and a button. Without thinking I said

“Turn round let’s have a look” and then lost the plot completely and had to sit down I laugh so hard.

His face lit up as he grinned and very kindly turned, giving me a shot of his glorious backside that most girls only dream about.

I sat up on my knees and I tried to mend the rip, it was large and made a flap that exposed his entire peachy butt. Using the safety pins, the needle and thread I did my best to get his dignity back together, trying to take as short as time as I could whilst not spearing him with the needle or pins. I may have caught his butt a couple of times which made him clench his muscles and mine join him.

He helped me on to my feet when I was done, and was just thanking me when two girls walked under the bridge and saw us. My bashful companion, very quickly dragged his hoodie up and I, always there to help a damsel (even a male one) in distress grabbed his face in my hands and kisses him, so as no one could see who he was (That’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it) Best of it was, he kisses me back warm, deep and tasting like heaven. 

When the girls had passed none the wiser for who they had just walked by, I let him go. Alright I may have held on a little longer but only to check they were truly gone.

“Well thank you lady with the bag of helpfulness and the sweet lips,  now I must go, let’s face it even with the pins and your needle work my arse is still in danger of showing itself, time to go home and consign these old friends to the bin. Alas poor trackies I knew you well.

I actual feel I should give them a send off.” He grinned again and as I’d been helpful once, I decided to help again.

“Well if you have the beer I have the opener. We could light a fire and cremate them,  toasting their final moments and all the fun you have had in them” 

“Ehehehehehehe now that sounds like a plan and then all I’ve got to do today is find some way of mending my bloody glasses and the day has been a success.” I must have looked a little non plus at him, as he added

“The screw fell out, so the arm fell off. I have the screw but no screwdriver small enough to do the job”

And from my trusty bag I pulled my little pack of cracker screwdrivers, yes ladies I had the tools for the job.

We went back to his place, and I saved the day again, now all he had to do was thank me and I found he definitely had the tools for that job.


Moral of the story when you sit at the Christmas table in what seems like two minutes time and you are playing with your cracker gift out of boredom, you never know where  that year may lead you, or what you may use to save the day.

Picture not mine I just played with it.

Written before all this last two weeks fun and games.

@anovinebo @angryschnauzer @booksandcatslover @peskipixi @tomforachange @vampirewithbedsidemanners @clojury @the-haven-of-fiction @eve1978 @snugglyhiddles @munchkin80 @jdmookami @quoting-shakespeare-to-ducks @heathermc13 @ancientfinnishgoddess @tinaferraldo @siyoteodiara @servent-alearika @tinaferraldo @lovehiddles4everme @tomhiddleston-kikibfairy @tomkurbikston @tom-hiddlestonhq @lostinspace33 @jossisgod @larouau12 @yourdarksideisshowing @lolawashere @fellowhiddlestoner @hiddleston-daily @prplprincez @archy3001 @the-lady-mischief @feelmyroarrrr @nenarea85

 @damageditem @mrshiddelston @itsnerdgirl6044 @oeffsee @ourladybinxthings @aggro-femme @antyc67 @

Birth Announcements

The calm peace was abruptly fractured on that morning by the shrill cry of the baby. With a certain type of efficiency, the healers quickly swaddled the newborn in a blanket and handed him over to his parents as they began to clean up.

Ginny smiled- albeit tiredly- at Harry as she coddled her son, whose cries had been reduced to whimpers.

“Oh Harry,” she said, “Look at him. He’s just perfect.”

Harry nodded in agreement as the little tyke grasped onto his finger tightly. “He is. Poor sod got my hair again though.”

A snort was heard from Ginny’s direction. “Well, third time’s a charm, yeah?” she said, eyes glittering. Harry caught her eye and grinned as he took his new son into his arms. “Whatever shall we call him?”

Harry bit his lip. “I was actually thinking of Albus Sev-”

Suddenly a bright light filled the hospital room as the heavens parted. Two pearly figures materialised in front of him. His eyes widened as he took in the familiar faces. “Da-”

James held up a hand. “Son,” he began, “Just don’t.”

Meanwhile Lily was in the back ground frantically shaking her head before reaching over to give a Harry a solid thump on the back of his head. His gaze snapped over to her. “But mum, he was your friend.”

Lily tapped him again. “Wanting to fuck me after calling me a racial slur and joining a terrorist group is not what I would call brave, you little shit.”

And before Harry could ask any more questions, the blinding light filled the room once more and the remnants of his parents disappeared.

The baby was then named Hagrid Dobby Potter.

The End.

had my first exam today which was fine, then tonight i meant to do some revision for my next exam but i’ve just ended up crying thinking about the victims of the attack on monday night. i know people on twitter who knew martyn hett and i’ve just been going through his instagram and he. was. so. fucking. funny. i knew i recognised him from come dine with me. i remember seeing it a while ago and my bf & i said how much we liked his shirt. i’ve watched so many of his videos and laughed my arse off and then i just burst into tears. i am so angry. i am so upset and angry for everyone who was affected. the tories can rant and rave all they want and criticise corbyn all they want for mentioning our disastrous foreign policy but he was totally right. of COURSE innocent people enjoying a pop concert did not deserve to get injured or killed. that’s not what is said when we talk about our foreign policy. i think even if our country had a glimmering track record when it comes to foreign policy then we would still see terrorist attacks carried out by extremist lone wolves every once in a while, because there are some very brainwashed and twisted people out there. but we all know this is somewhat a ‘wave’ and it tends to follow certain patterns. what makes me so unbelievably furious is the fact that it has to be the innocent civilians paying the price for our past & present FUCKED government making heinous decisions and putting money and glory above real people’s lives. and the very people making these horrendous decisions and putting members of the public at risk will likely never ever have to pay any kind of price. they’re protected in their bubble. the actual people who have destabilised the middle east and who now still continue to alienate people from the middle east and who demonise refugees and treat basically every non-white person like fucking shit will not have to suffer the consequences of their actions. normal people will, and normal people have. there is anger and resentment directed at europe for a reason. it’s directed at the uk for a reason. i’m not condoning it or encouraging it by saying that. but how will we ever solve this problem if we don’t face it head-on? if we don’t admit that our horrible foreign policy has blood on its hands and bears a huge amount of guilt? let’s face it, if you ransack countries & nations and then refuse to take any responsibility for doing so, and show no remorse, and then turn away the desperate people whose desperation you’ve directly caused, you ARE going to push people to extreme measures. people will look elsewhere for others that they feel speak for them. they will channel their anger. even though extremists are very much a minority, they exist and i think we really need to be asking ourselves why. because for lone wolves there might not be a definitive reason, but for a wave like this, there definitely is. and a direct consequence of this is that innocent people lose their lives. i am so angry. 

killuaislovekilluaislife  asked:

10 or 11 for the college Aus with snowbaz, please for the love of everything good pLEASE

Hello! Sorry this took so long to reply to, I’ve been flooded with classes and essays, but I finally got to it and oh boy here we go:

WARNING: mentions of sexual activity (but no detail on the act, just awareness stuff)

11. I took a bunch of free condoms from health services just because i could and they all fell out of my bag at once and now you’re staring at me weirdly 

6th Year (i’m sorry i was drawing blank for college, and i found this funnier)

Baz

The free on-campus HIV testing had actually been more successful than I had anticipated. The queue lead out of the multipurpose room doors and into the street, people standing about, talking to one another casually as if waiting to a see a film. It was a nice atmosphere, overall. Trixie was there with her girlfriend, like every year. She waved to me and I nodded back, tying the knot on my last goody-bag. 

Every year with HIV testing, we make goody-bags full of flavored condoms, a small bottle of lube, and a brochure about HIV and AIDS. It’s a way of saying that the school knows you’re doing it, so you might as well do it safely and well-informed before it’s too late for you and whomever you sleep with.

I look over to the empty boxes that had held the condoms and lube and look back at the bags sitting neatly on the table awaiting kids to come out from their testing. Proud of my handiwork, I decide to tell Professor Woo that I was off. Before I can go, she shoves a box in my arms. She looks down at me with a look that I can only describe as pity as she says, “We had a miscalculation in the amount of male condoms compared to the female condoms. Would you mind taking the extras with you? You might find some use out of them.” 

Her face instantly wrenches back at what she said, realizing her wording was not the best - that, or the mental image of me having sex with another person entered her mind (which is not an image any self-respecting teacher wants of their student). 

I only nod at her in affirmation. “I’m sure if I leave the box out in the Mummers lobby they’ll be gone by tomorrow,” I say. She nods at me, pitying look gone and her serious facade back on. She reminds me of my mother, sometimes. Caring and soft, but cold and sharp when she needs to be. Women like her are the ones that should be in power and run this school, unlike the Mage who is readying for war rather than running an established learning environment.

I make my way out of the building and to Mummers just fine. However, when I get there, the rugby team is having a table out, trying to recruit people onto the team. I thought of placing the box of condoms on the table in front of them, knowing that they would snatch them up in an instant. But I spot a head of golden bronze curls moving among them. Snow is talking to one of the players - probably trying to get information on me. He is always spying on me, trying to figure out my next move or see if I’m “plotting.” Or maybe he wants to join the team. He’s always there at practice, probably to spy on me, but maybe he also likes the sport. It’s not like I can do much scheming out on the field caked in mud and sweat, anyway. 

Instead of going over there, I turn sharply towards the hall leading to our room. I do not want to confront Snow right now, not with an entire box of fucking condoms in my arms. I think I would’ve blushed if I had fed this morning just thinking about it.

All last year Simon had followed me everywhere I went, which made it difficult to eat but even more difficult to breathe. His smell was everywhere, like smoke that just wouldn’t go away. And I hate that I kind of loved it. The love of my life running around, following me, confronting me…kissing me. Ridding the world of me. Of course, these were only fantasies, only the irritating paranoid stalking occurred. Still…I didn’t entirely mind.

I shook my head at myself. 

Pull it together, Basilton. 

Inside our room I stand in front of the doorway, deeply breathing in the scent of my Bergamot Cedar shampoo and Simon’s…scent. He doesn’t smell like his shampoo in the shower. (Trust me, it’s a generic boring shampoo and he smells nothing like boring). He smells like fireworks and sweets, like a festival gone overboard. I smile softly to myself, thinking about holding hands with him at a festival one day, kissing him. A horrible feeling sweeps through my gut. I know I could never be with him, not like that. I sigh, the mental image of kissing Snow as colors lit up the night sky playing stuck on repeat. 

Suddenly, Simon enters the room at full speed, knocking me and the box down to the ground.

Simon

Baz is staring at me, on the ground, surrounded by a mess of colorful rubber packets on our dorm-room floor. I would laugh if it wasn’t for the look of pure panic and embarrassment Baz is displaying right now. I don’t know what to say. We’ve locked eyes. Neither of us are looking away - the situation too awkward and fragile to even move. Merlin,what am I supposed to do?

I saw him enter the lobby earlier as I was talking to his rugby team, asking around to see if they had seen him. It felt like he was avoiding me, but I knew he was plotting. My suspicions were confirmed when he wasn’t at practice that afternoon. Baz never gets sick (a clear sign of being a vampire, by the way) and would not have been doing any homework since he’s always ahead of the class, so he had no reason to skip out.

Now, though, I think I understand why he wasn’t at practice.

I cough awkwardly and glance away, heat rising to my neck. At first I think it’s my magic about to set me off, but then nothing happens. The normal itch and tug doesn’t come, just a slow heat crawling up to my ears and burning my face. I realize I’m blushing and glance back at Baz, wondering if he’s blushing too. He isn’t, and the vulnerable look from just mere seconds ago is replaced by his iconic sneer. 

“Watch where you’re going, Snow,” he spits as he starts scooping up the tightly-sealed packages into a box.

I roll my eyes, used to the degrading remarks from him, but the heat never leaves. “Do- Do you-” I stammer, as always. He glares at me from the ground. “Use your words, Snow.” I take in a deep breath, knowing he’s just trying to rile me up. To set me off. I won’t let it work, not right now.

“Do you want help? With…With these?” I gesture meekly toward the scattered condoms all over the floor. I should have just left when I had the chance. because I’m sure he’ll say no. When has Baz Pitch ever needed my help?

“Sure,” he sighs.

I’m surprised at first, but I don’t think about it. I try not to, anyway. Instead, I kneel onto the ground and start awkwardly scooting the rubbers into a pile. As I’m moving the packets, I notice there are pictures of food on them. I pick up a yellow one gingerly and peer down at the words printed next to a picture of a banana and some peanuts. 

Banana Split,” it reads.

I peer over at Baz, brows furrowing in confusion, but he doesn’t seem to see me, too concentrated on the task at hand. I look back at the condom in my hand and let curiosity get the best of me. I open it up and take the rubber out, cringing a little at the lubrication on my hand. I power through it, though, and place the rubber in my mouth and suck on it.

It tastes nothing like banana splits.

Baz

I heard the crinkling of the packet opening first, not fully registering what Snow was doing until I smelled it. I looked over at him, half-expecting him stammering an apology for tearing a packet open and half-expecting him…well I’m not sure what else, but it certainly wasn’t this

Simon Snow is sat on the floor between our beds with a yellow rubber sticking out of his mouth, eyes fixated on the package’s ingredient list as he sucks on the condom. The smell of banana candy and something nutty is invading my senses and I want it and this image gone.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Snow?!”

He looks up at me with knitted brows and a slightly disappointed look as if he didn’t hear me. “Doesn’th tathe like banana thplith,” he tried. I couldn’t take him seriously with the rubber still sticking out of his mouth slightly along with the lisp it gave him. “What?” I ask, not registering what he was trying to say.

“Mm,” he holds up a finger for me to wait. “I said ‘It doesn’t taste like banana splits.’”

A beat passes. Two.

Then I’m lying on the ground, laughing my arse off because Simon Snow, the boy I am hopelessly in love with that is going to be the literal death of me, the boy who can summon a sword from pure will and magic, the boy who explodes magic so hot it feels like you’re burning, just put a condom in his mouth in the middle of our room on the floor to see what it taste like.

anonymous asked:

I didn't think Ballie fans could get any worse but the way they have acted since Bea died is so disgusting, saying they wish Joan would get a love interest fall in love and have her love interest be murdered. And so many other vile things about Joan, but they claim to care about lgbt representation sure...

I can’t launch into this rant without taking a moment to laugh my arse off.

Who has been the group of people defending this show like it was their dying mother? Ballie fans. I ranted and raved about how poorly done this season had been, about how silly the writers seemed to have become. I even warned some of them not to get invested in Ballie because it was going to end badly. I knew Bea was going to die. I had it spoiled WEEKS ago. But whenever I dropped these fans a subtle hint it fell on deaf ears.

I was told by this group of fans that I had no basis to complain. It was just because I didn’t like Ballie they said. But wait! Ballie goes wrong and suddenly, “This show is awful! I’m never watching it again!” they’re all crying. Oh my goodness. Talk about radical 180′s. Geezus…

Anyway, I’ll start by acknowledging that Ballie fans here on tumblr don’t seem half as bad as the ones floating around on twitter. So, Ballie fans on tumblr, don’t take this too much to heart if you’re unfortunate enough to read it. I’m really directing this at your twitter counterparts, who quite frankly have been disgustingly narrow minded lately.

I’m especially perplexed about this talk of theirs that Joan should get a love interest and have her murdered. Did these geniuses actually watch the whole series? Or did they just turn up to watch Ballie in S4 because they somehow heard that it existed? I can hear the conversation now…

“Oh gee guys! Lol a super sexy lesbian relationship just started in this show I’d never heard of until now!”
“OH MY GEE! Squee! This show suddenly is the best show on tv!”
“Wait guys! We have to make sure they’re both hot first!”
“Oh lolol! I nearly forgot! That could’ve been really gross!”

Ahem, Joan Ferguson already had this story line. Anyone who paid a minimal  level of attention to S2/3 would have ascertained this already. It’s half (if not more) of the bloody reason she does the ballistic things she does! If you watched this show in it’s entirety and you didn’t pick this up: what is actually wrong with you??? And if you haven’t watched this show in it’s entirety, then get lost and don’t try and argue your minimally scoped points to people who’ve been bothered to watch the whole damn thing.

Maybe those guys didn’t pay enough attention to Joan Ferguson’s lesbian flashback arc because neither her nor Jianna fitted their blinkered version of what  a lesbian “should be”. Let’s face it, it takes a certain type to find a handsome woman attractive. It takes another type to find a disadvantaged aboriginal girl attractive too. Because they both weren’t skinny, cute, white girls they didn’t notice it going on. Straight people seem to especially have an issue accepting “non-conforming” lesbian couples as legit/deserving of any respect. If the couple isn’t sexy enough for a straight man to get a boner watching them, then they shouldn’t be allowed to exist. Somehow this idea has permeated the heads of baseless little dweebs on the internet and brainwashed them.

Quite frankly, I find that disgustingly hilarious and ironic, given that these same people are the ones crapping on and on about how “homophobic” Wentworth is. Apparently lesbians don’t exist and don’t deserve representation unless they’re sweet little, do-no-harm angel-pies like Allie Novak. Pull your heads in. You are being just as offensive in your behavior towards Ferguson AND her predominately homosexual fanbase. Just because Ferguson is a villain it doesn’t mean that she can’t be a lesbian. According to you guys it wouldn’t be homophobic for Ferguson to die. Sit back and think about that. Let it loll around in your head for a while. She is a LESBIAN. If LESBIANS can’t DIE without it being HOMOPHOBIC then FERGUSON DYING is HOMOPHOBIC. Why is it okay for you to be bloodthirsty and want one flawed lesbian dead, but heaven forbid, if flawed Bea Smith dies it’s suddenly homophobic?

The group of them that have directed their homophobic witch hunt towards the writers of the show are the cream of the stupid crop. Because yeah. Obviously you guys haven’t noticed how may lesbian/bisexual characters there have been on this show - not to mention the outstanding Maxine. Out of all these characters Bea Smith is the only CONFIRMED lesbian to die. **Jianna is dead too, but the writers haven’t filled us in on how “gay” they actually thought she was. After all, they suddenly want us to expect that her and Joan were completely one sided and not sexual/intimate with each other at all.**

Everyone on Wentworth goes through hard times. Just because you didn’t notice the bullshite that the straight characters went through, it doesn’t mean that they get away scot-free. EVERYONE HAS BEEN THROUGH SOMETHING ON THIS SHOW. If you don’t have the capacity to acknowledge this simple fact in the writing style, then maybe you guys shouldn’t be watching? It’s a dark and gritty drama. It’s central theme is (or WAS) about how beaten down you can get somebody and what that person will do to claw themselves back up.

Go back to your poorly written, petty soap-box dramas. Leave this show to those of us that are intelligent enough to appreciate it. Maybe once you simpletons are gone, the writing can get back to being decent and we can get this Disney Channel styled, seahorse nonsense the hell out of here.

Too Late Pt. 3 (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Genre: Angst/Romance (I think)

Word Count: 897

Summary: The prankster that has it out for Dean is discovered. How will you handle it and what will be the consequences?

Masterlist      

                                                ***~~~***

Saturday Afternoon-Y/N POV

So, after the disaster that was the “date” on Friday and talking with Dean for a while, we decided not to reschedule that rendezvous. As we got to know each other, we thought it would be better to stay friends. Plus, I think he has a crush on that Ravenclaw girl. Luna I think? He brought her up as we were strolling towards the library to study for one of McGonagall’s famous quizzes on Monday.

 “Did you see Luna at the Quidditch game? That mask she made was AMAZING! I’m glad she was supporting Gryffindor,” Dean rambled on.

 “You know what I think?” I remarked, drawling out the words a little.

 “What?” He asked suspiciously. 

“You like her” you said in the sing-song voice of a child.

 “Whaa? Pfft! What? No!” he defended. Now, let’s remember that Dean is quite clumsy. So clumsy that he kind of, maybe…tripped from how flustered he was. 

There was a brief buzz from above and you both looked toward it. 

“Oh please n-“ That’s when a cream pie was released from wherever it was hiding and splatted right onto Dean’s face, cutting off his sentence. “Again?” You thought. You took your handkerchief and began to wipe off the cream. Wait, huh?

 “It isn’t coming off!” you said, distressed. 

“What do you mean “it’s not coming of”?!?” Dean shrieked.

 “Let’s get you to Madame Pomfrey” You suggested as you guided him towards the nurse’s office. Something was telling you this was not the last trick this prankster had up his sleeve.

Wednesday Afternoon-Y/N POV

Ok, Dean has been pranked EVERYDAY since Friday. It’s a serious probably. Madame Pomfrey remembers our names and that’s saying a lot considering how elderly she is. We walk very carefully towards the greenhouse for Herbology. We had that class with Draco and, I’m not going to lie, I was looking forward to seeing him. He had been acting strangely lately and wanted to know why.

 I was beginning to think we were going to make it through the class but as everyone knows, that never happens. We were working with mandrakes and we each had a specific one to care for. 

“Ok, it is very important to pull but do not pull too hard. Earmuffs on!” Professor Sprout instructed as she raised her hands indicating to pull out the plant then.

 There were 20 whining, screaming mandrakes so not many noticed that Dean’s wasn’t there. 

“Damn it! Not again” I thought as he pulled on a satin ribbon.

 The ribbon tore off from the box it was wrapped around and released the box’s contents. Out exploded, well, an actual explosion. I put my mandrake back in its pot and ran to Dean. His hair was on fire and it wasn’t going out! It didn’t seem to be burning either. Sprout gestured to put the mandrakes back and took off her headphones to help Dean. 

The whole class was frantically chattering with some small chuckles here and there. “Jerks” I thought angrily about the ones who were laughing. Professor left us in silent studying as she escorted Dean and his flaming head to the nurse.

 Once she was gone, I heard someone laughing like a hyena near the corner of the room. I whip around to see Draco, just laughing his arse off about Dean. I was livid. I shoved my chair away from my desk and marched over to him with fury burning in my eyes.

Draco POV

“Oh crap” I muttered under my breath as I saw Y/N stomping towards me, her hair and robes billowing behind her, until she stopped at my desk.

 I had stopped laughing at this point and we were just staring into each other’s eyes. I could get lost in her e/c eyes for hours.

“What’s so funny Malfoy? Hmm?” Whoa, Malfoy? She never calls me that. 

“That wimp of a Gryffindor you hang out with” Why did I just say that?!

“You seem to be very pleased by his embarrassment. As if, you have something against him.” I was speechless. I did enjoy it, I won’t lie. I’m starting feel a bit guilty.

 “Who wouldn’t? He’s such an embarrassment to Hogwarts. Not even pureblood” Well, no going back now.

 At this point we are both standing facing each other as the class stares at us intently.

 “Are you the one pranking him?!” she questioned, her voice escalating.

“What if I am?” I taunted as I matched her tone.

“Why would you do that!!?? He’s never done anything to you!!” she argued back.

“That’s what you think.” I scoffed crossing my arms.

“That’s what I think? Tell me Draco, what could Dean have ever done to you?” she inquired, mimicking my actions by folding her arms as well.

“He asked out the girl I love, ok?!?!?! He took her away from me before I could even tell her!!” I confessed. 

 I felt my face burn, whether it was from the argument or the embarrassment of the secret I just divulged to the whole class plus the girl herself. Y/N froze once I said that and her whole face flushed. Before I could say anything, the bell rang and everyone flooded out, including Y/N. I run outside the greenhouse to see a head of h/c hair rushing away. 

“Wait” I gasped, knowing perfectly well that she was too far to ever in a million years hear what I said.

Can’t believe that the actor that played Troy Barnes in Community, Donald Glover, is also Childish Gambino… I once had a mate who said her favourite artist was Childish Gambino and obsessed over him regularly. I remember Googling the name and seeing pictures and reading about him and thinking nothing of it. Then, after watching Community and Googling the actor, I see that it’s him that is Childish Gambino and my mind is blown. Probably a very small thing to be a “mind blown” moment but it’s these things in life that shock me lots but are also just so satisfying.

It’s similar to how whilst I was watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine I spent the 3 seasons trying to remember where I know the actor who plays Peralta (Andy Samberg) from, and my little brother later told me that he’s part of the comedy group The Lonely Island! Haha, I remember watching their music video to “Jizz in my pants” years ago, laughing my arse off. It was strangely satisfying to watch it again recently after seeing Brooklyn Nine-Nine, because it literally felt like Peralta was in that music video.

I really don’t know why or how I’m pleased by the simple things in life like this but I love it. It makes me a lot happier than massive conventional things like receiving a really cool birthday gift or being told that you mean a lot to someone. Strange but meh, I guess that’s me.

anonymous asked:

An antichoicer tried to tell me that since foetuses have reactions to stimuli that that proves they are sentient and aware. When I pointed out that there are plants that respond to touch and they are not sentient they called me a "fucking pro-sciencer" and "all science does is hurt people." Laughed my arse off at that one! I love being a 'pro-sciencer ' lol

When in doubt, just get mad at science.
-V

I’m laughing my arse off thinking of the poor casual viewers right now

It’s like catching a movie 1 hour after it has started

  • Wait why is there a ‘previously on’, i thought this was a one-off?
  • What’s the point of repeating their meeting again? i thought we were getting an actual new story?
  • but john is married to mary? but they don’t live together?
  • but molly can’t be a man?? i am feel so uncomfortable i can’t sexualize her??
  • but why is sherlock calling the bride a ‘he’? this show is so poorly written?
  • but what’s the point of showing mycroft eating and betting on how much time he’s got left?? i don’t get why he has to be fat anyway?? is this supposed to be funny?
  • i don’t understand the orange pips reference?
  • what even is this awkward conversation between holmes and watson?? i thought they were dude-bro-pals? this is such an unusual conversation topic for bros? this is not how me and my bros talk about titties?
  • but moriarty’s brains are half-blown so he can’t be there?
  • why is everyone talking about a fucking elephant falling from the table
  • wHOA THAT WAS SOME INCEPTION SHIT WHAT’S GOING ON
  • but now we’re back?? this show is so confusing?
  • and back to present again??
  • but why did it have to be women?? that is just so improbable?? women having spunk? inconceivable
  • sERIOUSLY DUDE STOP SWTICHING BETWEEN ALTERNATE TIMELINES I CAN’T FOLLOW THIS NONSENSE THIS SHOW IS JUST SO BAD
  • bUT HOW IS THE SKELETON MOVING, I THOUGHT THIS WASN’T A SCI-FI SHOW
  • WHAT THE FUCK IS EVEN GOING ON WHY ARE THEY AT A WATERFALL
  • THAT’S SO INAPPROPRIATE, SUGGESTING THAT THEY ELOPE. LISTEN THEY ARE VERY HETEROSEXUAL BROPALS AND ANYTHING OTHER THAN THAT IS DISGUSTING

*mofftiss’ maniacal laughter from the distance*


I honestly feel SO SORRY FOR CASUAL VIEWERS RIGHT NOW.

Because this can all be summed up in one gif:

MOFTISS MIGHT HAVE HIJACKED CHRISTMAS, BUT WE JOHNLOCKERS HAVE HIJACKED THE SHOW AND NOW HAVE THE POWER.

KNEEL BEFORE US OR DIE.