Zandra's Court

microcomets:

out of curiosity do any other fic-writers have like

this quiet, unspoken race to beat canon to headcanons and/or plot developments

and whenever canon confirms something you wrote in fic you’re like “dammit i had that first

Um, yeah. When the IM3 trailer came out, I wrote a ficlet about Tony not being able to sleep and that talking to Bruce was the only thing that helped. So when the post-credit scene was over, I squee’d internally and whispered “called it” to myself.

zubat:

yourvoiceinnovember:

this looks like a senior class picture of guinea pigs


The one on the bottom right looks like the grumpy elder!!!

zubat:

yourvoiceinnovember:

this looks like a senior class picture of guinea pigs

The one on the bottom right looks like the grumpy elder!!!

(Source: furything, via bitchnobitchpleasebitchbye)

Anonymous said: Always thought that John's worry over Sherlock's name being smeared by the media in TRF was due to basic empathy, but just realized there's more to it-- He's seen it done before, with another good friend who was destroyed by the media, who became a complete recluse, whose only interaction with people now are getting death threats from them. He knows someone who has never recovered from being publicly torn to shreds the way like that, and doesn't want to see it happen again.

losethehours:

anotherwellkeptsecret:

OH. MY. GOD.

Yup. Bloody marvelous fandom.

powerfulweak:

profoundboner:

till-the-end-of-the-bucky:


Inspired by: ”I want a spn episode where danneel/vicki/gen are a team of hunters who run across the boys and rescue them and then kill the monster and consistently save their asses” (x)

it is funny because they are all really accurately the gender bend of sam, dean and cas

except for Gen’s super short

Danneel could call her “Mouse” instead of “Moose”

powerfulweak:

profoundboner:

till-the-end-of-the-bucky:

Inspired by: ”I want a spn episode where danneel/vicki/gen are a team of hunters who run across the boys and rescue them and then kill the monster and consistently save their asses” (x)

it is funny because they are all really accurately the gender bend of sam, dean and cas

except for Gen’s super short

Danneel could call her “Mouse” instead of “Moose”

(Source: x-cetera, via tenhoursinthelab)

When do we start?

(Source: dehaans, via thehorseofadifferentcolour)

ihatecispeople:

if the creator has to say “yeah this one vague line was refering to this character being gay” it doesnt count as representation. if it’s a punchline at the end of the movie, it doesn’t count as representation. if the writer announces it outside the work but never in the work it doesnt fucking count as representation

(Source: halloweengender, via corgisandbands)

buckybernes:

(x)

Everyone wants a Black Widow movie.

image

(via itsstuckyinmyhead)

“If we can’t write diversity into sci-fi, then what’s the point? You don’t create new worlds to give them all the same limits of the old ones.”
Jane Espenson (via wilwheaton)

(Source: fluffymoalabear, via wilwheaton)

fantasticallyficticious:livesandliesofwizards:


At twilight on August the 25th 1999, one week before classes were to begin, Hermione Granger Apparated into Hogsmeade, a wand box clutched under her arm.
Headmistress McGonagall was waiting for her outside the Three Broomsticks. The two women greeted each other warmly, and then set off towards the castle. Or rather, towards the grounds outside the castle.
They chatted amiably as they strolled towards the groundskeeper’s hut.  Hagrid, sitting outside and darning a pair of enormous socks, looked up as they approached.
“Good evenin’ Headmistress, Hermione,” he said with some gruff surprise.
“Good evening, Hagrid,” replied McGonagall. “May we go inside?  I believe Hermione has a proposition to discuss with you.”
If you had stood outside the hut as the evening darkened and the stars rose into the sky, you’d have heard the rumblings of an argument coming from inside the hut. You’d have heard Hagrid’s gruff refusals, Hermione’s calm (and then not so calm) rebuttals, and the very occasional interjection of the Headmistress.
Hermione did not emerge until the moon had fully risen and darkness enveloped the grounds. But in the light of the nearly full moon, you could see a smile on her face.
~
The Shrieking Shack was no longer widely believed to be haunted, now that the story of Remus Lupin was fully known.  Still, the residents of Hogsmeade and Hogwarts avoided it out of a mixture of respect and residual fear.
This suited Hermione perfectly. The interior of the Shack was now stacked with books and bottles of potion ingredients. A cauldron sat in the corner, a telescope pointed out a cracked window, and cushions lined one wall. A table was covered in parchment, broken quills, ink pots and stains. Once a week, Hermione would apparate into the Shack and go over her notes from the previous session while she awaited her student’s arrival.
Sometimes he was late without explanation. Sometimes he would bring a wounded bowtruckle he wasn’t comfortable leaving on its own.  Sometimes Fang would follow him and sit in the corner whining while his master sweated and cursed over a cauldron. Hermione was calm but firm, making adjustments as needed and letting Hagrid’s frustrated words roll off her back like water droplets. 
The Hogsmeade residents may have turned a blind eye to the goings-on in the Shrieking Shack, but that didn’t mean they weren’t relieved as time went on and there were fewer and fewer roars of anger echoing through the village.
~
The OWL testers had been warned in advance that they would have an unusual student that year. That didn’t mean they weren’t taken aback when Rubeus Hagrid appeared on their testing scrolls. They all knew of him of course, knew the role he played in the Second War and of the false accusations leveled against him.
They were worried they would have to be kind.
They needn’t have. No one could have Hermione Granger teach them personally for a year and not improve in all aspects. His potions may not have been textbook perfection, he may not have fully transfigured his toad, but Hagrid had clearly worked hard to master his long dormant abilities.
Rubeus Hagrid may not have followed the traditional path to wisdom.  But he had a new wand, the (sometimes grudging) respect of his peers, classes to teach and 6 OWLs.
Including the highest score ever recorded on Care of Magical Creatures.
(written and submitted by ppyajunebug; please excuse me, because I have something in my eye. Oh yes, it is my joyful tears. ppyajunebug has a way of bringing those out of me, you see. Their submissions tackle some of the saddest moments in canon, turning them around and making something beautiful out of them.)

THIS WAS SO STINKIN CUTE EVERYONE STOP WHAT YOU’RE DOING AND READ THIS

fantasticallyficticious:livesandliesofwizards:

At twilight on August the 25th 1999, one week before classes were to begin, Hermione Granger Apparated into Hogsmeade, a wand box clutched under her arm.

Headmistress McGonagall was waiting for her outside the Three Broomsticks. The two women greeted each other warmly, and then set off towards the castle. Or rather, towards the grounds outside the castle.

They chatted amiably as they strolled towards the groundskeeper’s hut.  Hagrid, sitting outside and darning a pair of enormous socks, looked up as they approached.

“Good evenin’ Headmistress, Hermione,” he said with some gruff surprise.

“Good evening, Hagrid,” replied McGonagall. “May we go inside?  I believe Hermione has a proposition to discuss with you.”

If you had stood outside the hut as the evening darkened and the stars rose into the sky, you’d have heard the rumblings of an argument coming from inside the hut. You’d have heard Hagrid’s gruff refusals, Hermione’s calm (and then not so calm) rebuttals, and the very occasional interjection of the Headmistress.

Hermione did not emerge until the moon had fully risen and darkness enveloped the grounds. But in the light of the nearly full moon, you could see a smile on her face.

~

The Shrieking Shack was no longer widely believed to be haunted, now that the story of Remus Lupin was fully known.  Still, the residents of Hogsmeade and Hogwarts avoided it out of a mixture of respect and residual fear.

This suited Hermione perfectly. The interior of the Shack was now stacked with books and bottles of potion ingredients. A cauldron sat in the corner, a telescope pointed out a cracked window, and cushions lined one wall. A table was covered in parchment, broken quills, ink pots and stains. Once a week, Hermione would apparate into the Shack and go over her notes from the previous session while she awaited her student’s arrival.

Sometimes he was late without explanation. Sometimes he would bring a wounded bowtruckle he wasn’t comfortable leaving on its own.  Sometimes Fang would follow him and sit in the corner whining while his master sweated and cursed over a cauldron. Hermione was calm but firm, making adjustments as needed and letting Hagrid’s frustrated words roll off her back like water droplets. 

The Hogsmeade residents may have turned a blind eye to the goings-on in the Shrieking Shack, but that didn’t mean they weren’t relieved as time went on and there were fewer and fewer roars of anger echoing through the village.

~

The OWL testers had been warned in advance that they would have an unusual student that year. That didn’t mean they weren’t taken aback when Rubeus Hagrid appeared on their testing scrolls. They all knew of him of course, knew the role he played in the Second War and of the false accusations leveled against him.

They were worried they would have to be kind.

They needn’t have. No one could have Hermione Granger teach them personally for a year and not improve in all aspects. His potions may not have been textbook perfection, he may not have fully transfigured his toad, but Hagrid had clearly worked hard to master his long dormant abilities.

Rubeus Hagrid may not have followed the traditional path to wisdom.  But he had a new wand, the (sometimes grudging) respect of his peers, classes to teach and 6 OWLs.

Including the highest score ever recorded on Care of Magical Creatures.

(written and submitted by ppyajunebug; please excuse me, because I have something in my eye. Oh yes, it is my joyful tears. ppyajunebug has a way of bringing those out of me, you see. Their submissions tackle some of the saddest moments in canon, turning them around and making something beautiful out of them.)

THIS WAS SO STINKIN CUTE EVERYONE STOP WHAT YOU’RE DOING AND READ THIS

(via itsstuckyinmyhead)

c0l0rsandcar0usels:

prochoicebecausefuckoff:

fandomsandfeminism:

nireblue:

fandomsandfeminism:

The difference between bisexuality and pansexuality: a powerpoint guide. 

(updated) 

… but….why put the my little ponies in there…….

1. Because they match the color scheme of the pride flags 

2. I like ponies. 

3. It reenforces the light and cheerful tone of the overall powerpoint. 

This is probably one of the best and least offensive/erasing guides out there and people are complaining about the ponies.

Fucksake. 

This is important

(via andythanfiction)

sithhappen:

Luke Skywalker + doing background faces (A New Hope)

OK, I have to say these gifs show why I’ve never hated on Luke for being whiney in A New Hope. He was a teenager whose greatest worry was overly protective parents! And he acted like the naive kid he was. He wore his emotions openly because he hadn’t learned to mask his feelings, reactions, opinions the way adults learn to. Or in the case of Leia, the way kids who grow up in war learn to. Mark Hamill played Luke’s sheltered immaturity perfectly and when you see the tightly controlled Jedi he becomes in RotJ, you have not just seen him grow up; you have seen him become battlescarred.

(Source: redhoodling, via apolla-savre)

phantomrat:

sports night → the apology 
      I have a younger brother named Sam. Sam’s a genius.

The perception that Casey is not cool does, in fact, come from reality. 

(via katelinnea)