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By Leaps and Bounds

angietru:

The Band Kid Theory: there are hot people who’d date you in every band except your own.

(via myspiritisonair)

rrrrosa:

those songs that start in one earbud and flow into the next

image

(via myspiritisonair)

perrytheteenagegirl:

foreverpruned:

They were the best frenemies

(Source: natallie-dormer, via myspiritisonair)

ugly:

ONE WATERMELON FRESH FROM THE MANURE FIELD YOUR SPOOKYNESS

(via sliceofbri)

amidtheflowers:

If there’s one thing I wish JKR would have expanded on, it was Lupin and Harry.

Lupin, realizing three of his friends were dead and one in prison, thinking about what will happen to baby Harry. Lupin begging Dumbledore to grant someone—anyone—else custody of Harry besides the Dursleys after he…

isnerdy:

monetizeyourcat:

finally

Maybe now he’ll win an Oscar.

(Source: tomhahardy, via searching-for)

timid:

do you ever get that horrible feeling in your stomach because you can’t imagine anyone ever falling in love with you and wanting to spend the rest of their life with you

(via searching-for)

*aggressively yodels feelings away*

faxmachine:

I think the reason why the phrase “I’m not like most girls” annoys me so much is because women have been conditioned to feel like they have to disassociate themselves from the female gender to be recognised as an interesting human being and if that isn’t fucked up then I don’t know what is

(via searching-for)

“Are you planning to follow a career in Magical Law, Miss Granger?” asked Scrimgeour.
“No, I’m not,” retorted Hermione. “I’m hoping to do some good in the world” 

Happy 35th Birthday, Hermione Jean Granger! (September 19th, 1979) 

(Source: rowlinginthedepp, via readmybookshelves)

pollypopit:

relahvant:

asktheteamofscientists:

hobgoblinhero:

danadies:

yes-master-thank-you-master:

The Kum and Go. Or as my mom called it, the ejaculate and evacuate.

Jizz and jet

shoot and scoot

blow your load and hit the road

bust ya nut and off ya strut

pray

(via prbuick11)

morganawinchester27:

ultrafacts:

a-syringe-against-the-capitol:

ultrafacts:

Source For more posts like this, follow the Ultrafacts Blog!

Why?

The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier is a monument in dedication to the services of an unknown soldier, Marine, airman or sailor and to the common memories of all soldiers, Marines, airmen and sailors killed in any war. Throughout history, many soldiers have died in wars with their remains being unidentified. The tomb is guarded 24/7 365. Even through hurricanes as a sign of respect.

These soldiers stand guard, day and night, through blistering heat and freezing cold. They stand in driving rain without flinching. It is one of the highest honors to guard the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, and there are no excuses, no rainy days. One year, a really bad hurricane swept through the coast and the soldiers were given permission to leave their post. They declined, choosing to stay and guard the tomb.

These men inspire me and have my utmost respect. Thank you.

(via prbuick11)

nympheline:

This is my favourite bookstore and bookseller in the world. Bar none.

I used to get to Seattle every six months or so, and whenever I visited I always made it a priority to stop in BLMF and ask its keeper what he’d been reading lately. He possessed an inexhaustible memory, a comfortable lack of snobbery, and impeccable taste. The first book he recommended to me, upon listening gravely to my litany of at-the-moment authors (Barbara Kingsolver, James Clavell, Maeve Binchy, Neil Gaiman, Charles DeLint, Anthony Bourdain) was Tipping the Velvet. He also later landed me with Geek Love, Anno Dracula, half the Aubreyad, and more modern Literature-with-a-capital-L than I could carry home.

The next-to-last time I dropped in, I asked if he had any P. G. Wodehouse.

"I have zero Wodehouse," he said, "and here’s why…"

Turned out that some fiend had taken to creeping in every month or so expressly to inquire of any Wodehouse and, once led to the volumes, to buy it all. ALL. Didn’t matter the condition, the edition, or whether he had another just like it in his possession; the villain bought every single P. G. Wodehouse in stock, every single time.

Was he a fan more comprehensive, more truly fanatical than any other I’d heard of, let alone known? Was he virulently anti-Wodehouse, only purchasing the books to keep their wry poison from infecting the impressionable masses? The world may never know.

I didn’t get any Wodehouse then, and I didn’t really feel the lack. I found plenty of other treasures that trip. But here’s one reason why BLMF and its proprietor are my favourite of their kind: that was two years ago, you see. Maybe three. In all that interim, I never planted foot in that bookshop. Never called. Never wrote. And I’m one face out of hundreds of thousands, dear reader; one reader he saw twice a year for three years, then not again for another three.

But I walked in the shop last Friday. Nodded hello.

"Can I help you find anything?" he asked, lifting his head from the phone.

"No, I’m good," I said.

"Wait—hold on a second." He set the phone down, walked ‘round the towers of books balanced precariously on the desk, on the floor, and atop other, only slightly less precarious towers. He jerked his head conspiratorially toward the far end of the shop, led me carefully to a shelf way in the back, removed a tattered stack of mass market paperbacks and motioned me closer to see what they’d been hiding.

Fifteen pristine Wodehouses: crisp, heavy, and—

Hardcover,” he said, and waggled his eyebrows.

Reader, I bought them all.

(via jessamygriffin)

(Source: keeeicaaa, via suckmypepper)

splderwoman:

DEADPOOL WILL HAVE HIS OWN MOVIE

DEADPOOL WILL HAVE HIS OWN MOVIE

DEADPOOL WILL HAVE HIS OWN MOVIE

DEADPOOL WILL HAVE HIS OWN MOVIE

IN 2016 (x)

(via moltres)