i’m gonna steal the declaration of independence
(Source: believed, via murphybed)
This is the menu for a restaurant in Philadelphia, PA. Everything on the menu is a quote from Mean Girls.
(via flapperorslapper)
they’re using Hand Covers Bruise OH MY GOD THIS SONG ALL THE FEELINGS FLAWLESS OH GOD ARIZONAAAAAAA WHY
“malfoy.”
“what, potter.”
“er, i wanted to tell you something.”
“yes…?”
“i- um, er.”
“potter, you disgrace the name of every single orphaned child who ever lived under a cupboard. your understanding of simple human language is the mud that rottens their honour.”
“shut up. just let me talk.”
“all things considered, i think i was doing a fairly good job of talking for both of us. better than you could ever manage. really, i should be canonised.”
“oh, i don’t even know why i bothered.”
“neither do i. now, if you’re finished, be so good as to leave the table. you’re scaring my pumpkin juice. and the first years.”
“no.”
“potter, one of them is crying.”
“no, i mean i’m not leaving. just. listen, okay.”
“i’m going to regret you being alive more than ever after this, aren’t i.”
“i’ve noticed your clothes.”
“you have- potter, has weasley been slipping you gillyweed?”
“i have. and, malfoy, i want you to know it’s okay.”
“what.”
“we may not get on that well, but i want you to know that, whatever you’re going through right now, it’s normal and it will pass. no matter how spolied you are or how evil your family is, you musn’t think of yourself as just an obnoxious little slytherin git, because none of it makes you unworthy of love. you must remember that, however dark things may seem, you have friends who care for you and are willing to help.”
“…”
“you really must not let yourself go down that path, malfoy.”
“potter.”
“yes.”
“i really don’t hate myself.”
“denial is a common symptom, but malfoy-”
“i know i don’t hate myself because all my self-loathing is focused on your self, potter.”
“aggressiveness is not the way towards healing, malfoy. you have to remember that there are people out there who accept you just the way you are.”
“potter, can i ask you something?”
“yes?”
“leave.”
“okay. but you really should eat something other than just juice. do not take this on your body-”
“i promise you that after i’m done vomiting my soul i’ll eat everything in the kitchens. then throw up again. on your head.”
“just focus on being the best you you can be, okay?”
“i hope a broom gets stuck on your nose. no, a tree.”
“maybe he does have a point, malfoy. some food would make your face less pointy.”
“oh, bite me, zabini.”
“aggressiveness is not the way towards healing. you should bite that apple.”
“why am i being punished. i’m not the one who goes around talking to basilisks. well, maybe that was it. goyle, please remind me: when was it that i spat on salazar’s grave?”
(via parrotworm)
Her aunt had not get gotten used to her presence in Leadworth, and she found it easier than she should to sneak away. There wasn’t much to see in town, so she wandered in the woods behind her house, searching listlessly for something she couldn’t name, but that she knew she was missing.
She had felt like that often since her parents’ death, and her departure from Scotland. She liked the woods because there were no staring eyes and no pity, and no company save the tall, peaceable oak trees.
Until one day in autumn.
She was meandering near one of the oak trees, peering at the creek nearby, when, out of nowhere, a boy dropped down beside her. She jumped back, startled, and gazed up at the oak tree from which he must have fallen.
“What - what are you doing up a tree?” The boy tried to get up, but he fell again, and it seemed as if he didn’t have complete control of his limbs.
He stood up slightly and brushed his jeans, trying to get rid of clinging leaves.
“I was trying to see Gloucester. Patrick Buckley told me you can see it from the top of the oak tree.” He gave trying to tidy himself and finally looked up at her, staring. She stepped back a little.
“You’re that new girl, Amy!” He leaned close and poked her nose; she swatted his hand away and scrunched up her face in reply.
“You’re Scottish!” She did not respond.
“That’s amazing!” he continued, enthused. Now that he was standing up straight, she could see he was wearing jeans and a blue hoodie, most of which had a fine covering of dirt over it. A stray twig had become ensnared in his sandy brown hair.
“It’s like being from a different planet! It’s like you’re an alien!” Amy stepped back, affronted, and the boy stopped talking abruptly.
“And what,” she began, pronouncing every word with a distinct fury, “is your name?”
“Oh! I’m Rory Williams.” The boy stuck out his hand. She did not make a move to shake it.
“Well, Rory, you don’t know know anything about me,” Amy turned around and began to walk away, then rounded on him, her red hair swinging.
“And you certainly don’t know a thing about Scotland!”
Rory didn’t waste a minute in chasing after her, apologising.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you-“
“-I’m not upset!”
“It’s just that you scared me out of the tree-“
“-It’s your own stupid fault you fell!”
“-And I’ve never met anyone like you before-“
“Like me? Like me?” Amy’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Oh, I see - you mean Scottish, and with no parents, and with stupid red hair?”
She seemed incredibly angry, and it was all Rory could do to stop himself from backing away; but he saw her chin quiver beneath the hard set of her mouth, and knew with sudden alacrity that she was repeating what she had heard others say about her; and that she did care indeed.
“I like your hair”, he mumbled, scuffing the ground with his sneaker. Amy seemed taken aback, and after an awkward moment where neither of them spoke she turned and began walking away.
“We could be friends?” The way he said it sounded like a question more than anything, and he found that he could only say it when her back was turned. There was something unnerving about the way she looked at him, with eyes that seemed to see right through his body to the creek below.
“Friends?”
She was facing him again, and he nodded eagerly.
“Yeah, friends! We could go on adventures and - and tell each other stories - all the things that friends do.”
Her brows furrowed.
“Don’t you already have friends?”
Rory considered this.
“Well, yeah….but I don’t have a girl friend! Not -” he realised as soon as he had said it - “not that - I didn’t mean - I just meant -” he stumbled, blushing furiously. But he heard her laugh, and knew it would be all right, and when he looked up she was smiling, her hand outstretched.
“Friends, then”, she said, and they shook, smiling, their hands clapsed admist the autumn breeze.
The Doctor: “…Canton?”
Crowley: “Sorry, but no. Canton Everett Delaware III has left the building.”
(Source: spooningwithironman, via stopitsgingertime)
James celebrates National Poetry Month while Remus weeps in frustration.
(via starkreactor)
Irish advertisement against homophobic bullying.
Beautiful.
(via asguardian)
Julia, 20, Australia. Obsessed with tea. I love a certain boy band much more than I should and I don't even care. .