The Girl with the Book in Her Hand

Hello, I am Brigid and I love hanging out with the ragtag group of people I call friends.

the-darling-corporal:

Pausing in the middle of a fic because you can literally feel the waves of second hand embarrassment when your OTP does something stupid

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THE ACCURACY

(Source: stucky-til-the-end-of-the-line, via sededuce)

maraudershelpff:

theatomicboom:

I REALISE THIS PART WAS SUPPOSED TO SHOW HARRY’S FEAR FOR VOLDEMORT’S RETURN BUT OMG

HE’S SO STYLISH

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HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO BE SCARED OF SOMEONE WITH SUCH AN IMPECCABLE FASHION SENSE

I KNOW RIGHT? ALL I COULD THINK ABOUT IT WHEN I WATCHED WAS THAT HE LOOKS SO DAMN HANDSOME!

avatardsherlockian:

killjoysandcastiel:

colesun:

sheetofsound:

ghoulishghosty:

also today some kid mentioned the red hot chili peppers and i was like “oh i love that band” and they were like “oh yeah name five songs by them” and i listed five of my favourites and he hesitated and then said “maybe you do like them”

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Why is it on a pieCE OF CHEESE

Why do you make your senteNCES CAPITALIZED AS THEY PROGRESS

because it proviDES A SENSE OF SUDDEN ANGER/REALIZATION

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(Source: himapapaftw, via supernatural-explosion)

knightscrest:

mcporno:

knightscrest:

knightscrest:

whats the sleepiest mineral?

snORE

Ores and minerals are completely different things

dammit jim, im a comedian not a geologist

(via perks-of-being-chinese)

violanthe:

From now on, instead of explaining what asexuality is, I’m just sending people this gif

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(via msrmoony)

h3adphonez:

it makes me feel better knowing she’s an assassin

(Source: corneliapornelia, via ben-c)

fruitcrocs:

when a teacher asks you if you understand the work and you don’t 

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*gets 0 on the test*

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(Source: fruitcrocs, via all-too-well)

mcporno:

hit me with your best sho- OW FUCK WHAT THE HELL MAN

(via perks-of-being-chinese)

marauders4evr:

It was a strange place, the Potter’s home. It was the opposite of Grimmauld Place in every conceivable way, as if someone had looked at Sirius’ life and had said, “Oh no, this will never do!” Far from being cramped in a grimy neighborhood, the Potters lived out in the country. They could afford a mansion that stretched to the sky. Instead, they had happily settled with a cozy cottage that sat beneath the blanket of stars. The garden was always overgrown, in a tender way. Smoke always puffed from the chimney and the twinkling lights in the windows were warm and inviting.They didn’t own a single house-elf or servant. Mrs. Potter was more than happy to tend to the cleaning and cooking. Seconds and thirds were uncommon when it came to the homemade meals. When everyone’s stomachs were bursting out of their trousers, they would all retreat to the living room. Mr. Potter and James would start a game of wizard’s chess by the fire. Mrs. Potter would pour herself a cuppa and would curl up with a nice book. It was peaceful, but never quiet. Oh, no. There was always noise. There was always laughter and stories and humming and pleasant conversation. Mrs. Potter’s hands would glide across the piano as her husband merrily played the violin. There was singing and dancing. There were jokes and more laughter. There was a family and a home. And Sirius was happy to be a part of it.

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