Diana. Majestic unicorn, professional reblogger of cat pictures, and dreamer of improbable dreams. Bangel is my OTP forever and forever, and Joss Whedon is king. Some day I'm going to marry Fran Kranz. ~ on a three-week hiatus because I'M IN THE FREAKING UK AHDKDLSDASHD EXCITEMENT ~
My Disney Blog: dianathedisneylass.tumblr.com
"I am a leaf on the wind. Watch how I soar."
(Source: whedonversegifs, via doll-freaking-house)
Sarah Jane Smith is a modern feminist who will castigate anyone who treats her like a child.
(Source: thesarahjanesmith, via converseandbowties)
★ 21-22/100 Photos of Chris Evans
(via songsofwolves)
From this day forward, you will choose your own name. You will tell your fellow soldiers to do the same. Throw away your slave name. Choose the name your parents gave you, or any other. A name that gives you pride.
(Source: chastelore, via gallifreyholiday)
“What I would try to communicate about tea is that it can console you, it can start your day. There’s the warmth and the ritual- and you can share it! You make someone a cup of tea. You offer it to them, and you give it to them.” (x)
(Source: mcavoys, via amy-ackers)
(Source: peppermixed, via followthefirefly)
Whattttt? how did I not know about this?
Quick note: the lines don’t have to point upwards and straight next to each other, you can point them in any direction you want.
thank you, improbablenormality, for adding that, becuase I WAS SO FUCKING CONFUSED ABOUT THAT SHIT!
DOES IT GO IN A SPECIFIC DIRECTION?
DOES IT DEPEND ON THE LETTERS AROUND IT?
DOES IT NOT FUCKING MATTER?
that was hard as fucking hell.
(via doll-freaking-house)
[made rebloggable by request]
read like a motherfucker. don’t learn from your betters, just inhale them. imprint rhythms and chokeholds and things-that-shoot-up-your-spine into your fingertips. read how romance novels create characters so vivid you want to fuck them and have them be fucked. read brutal minimalism and extravagant prose. read children’s books to remember about wonder and post-modernists to remember about freedom. read because at some point you will be so full with the consumption of language you will need to start pouring it back out again.
write like an asshole. write things when you’ve stayed up so late you are delirious. write when you’re drunk. write when a song has made you feel catastrophic. write when you’re famished. write when you’re spitting mad. write so you don’t curl up in the bottom of a shower and sob. write when people have torn strips off you. write when you’re high on adrenaline. write because there’s a monster on your back and you need to make it real and separate from your soul. eventually, you will not need any of these props to make you brave enough.
seriously. that’s it.
(via tomlinassbutt)
The Mad King was obsessed with [wildfire]. He loved to watch people burn, the way their skin blackened and blistered and melted off their bones. He burned lords he didn’t like. He burned Hands who disobeyed him. He burned anyone who was against him. Before long, half the country was against him. Aerys saw traitors everywhere. So he had his pyromancer place caches of wildfire all over the city… beneath the Sept of Baelor and the slums of Flea Bottom. Under houses, stables, taverns. Even beneath the Red Keep itself. Finally, the day of reckoning came. Robert Baratheon marched on the capital after his victory at the Trident. But my father arrived first with the whole Lannister army at his back, promising to defend the city against the rebels. I knew my father better than that. He’s never been one to pick the losing side. I told the Mad King as much. I urged him to surrender peacefully. But the king didn’t listen to me. He didn’t listen to Varys who tried to warn him. But he did listen to Grand Maester Pycelle, that grey, sunken cunt. “You can trust the Lannisters,” he said. “The Lannisters have always been true friends of the crown.” So we opened the gates and my father sacked the city. Once again, I came to the king, begging him to surrender. He told me to bring him my father’s head. Then he turned to his pyromancer. “Burn them all,” he said. “Burn them in their homes. Burn them in their beds.” Tell me, if your precious Renly commanded you to kill your own father and stand by while thousands of men, women, and children burned alive, would you have done it? Would you have kept your oath then? First, I killed the pyromancer. And then when the king turned to flee, I drove my sword into his back. “Burn them all,” he kept saying. “Burn them all.” I don’t think he expected to die. He… he meant to… burn with the rest of us and rise again, reborn as a dragon to turn his enemies to ash. I slit his throat to make sure that didn’t happen.
(Source: rekkka, via professortennant)
(Source: isaacstiles, via fuckyeahbangel)
The Lord of the Rings Movie Trivia: Cameos & Special Appearances
