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gummyseacreatures:

quintessence-of-dust:

Kacy Catanzaro: the first woman in history to qualify for Mt. Midoriyama.

I just need everyone to watch this video [x]. She’s a 5 foot, 100 lb gymnast and she beasts through this insanely difficult, heavily upper body focused course like it was her morning jog. The camera keeps cutting to these massive, musclebound men in the audience with their mouths hanging open. 

This is one of the most excellent things I have ever seen and I might have literally cried watching. The announcers are like “she’s only 5 feet tall can she do— SHE DID IT” the WHOLE TIME and it’s so inspiring, please watch this video!!

(Source: felicityperhaps)

ja-mbles:

humpinghippogriffs:

seerofkarkittens:

pipjustice:

keepcalmanduseyourpatronus:

shlabam:

Never hang out with anyone who says “feminist” the same way Draco Malfoy says “mudblood”.

This is the best way to explain this.

never hang out with anyone who says “men” the same way malfoy says “mudblood” either

Never hang out with anyone who says anything like “mudblood”

unless it’s “vegetables”

image

shingeki-no-shimmy:

prettyarbitrary:

thescienceofobsession:

downto142:

frettedtoflame:

renrevenge:

I’M FUCKING SCREAMING OMGGGGGG THE TIME HAS COME FOR THE 90S TO ROMANTICIZED BY NON-90S KIDS FUCK

I feel like a legend.

I was like.. wait… that was me. It was not romantic. But I loved the fuck out of my tie-died romper. And my Basketcase tape. 

Tragically I must inform that OP that the 90s were nothing like this.

Unless you hung out with the Vampire LARPers.  But they would never have been caught dead in a badge-plastered denim jacket or listening to mainstream poseur music like Green Day.

This is definitely not how it was. Especially the line about staying out late and using brains. Also, belly shirts were way more in style in the 90’s. They were everywhere.

(Source: theacheofmodernism)

LILY AND THE PORTRAIT:
    Portraits could only mimic their real counterparts, even the headmaster portraits that were specially trained to guide Hogwarts’ future generations. Severus had no such time in his single year as Headmaster—and yet, his portrait seemed real enough to befriend. She first found him in a oft-empty frame by the armor gallery and tried to show Al, but Al said that they already met once, and they didn’t get past introductions and “Your father named you what?
    She bore the old headmaster’s sneers better than her brothers, and he was kinder to her, in his own way. She found that if she brought her Potions homework and sat underneath the frame, he would ridicule her mistakes as she worked but slowly enough for her to correct each of them. In her sixth year, after showing him her O in Potions, he told her where to find his old textbook.
    On her last day of Hogwarts, she knocked next to the frame. Slowly, one of his eyes opened, like a serpent awoken from its slumber.
    “Thank you, Professor.”
    His lip curled upwards. She sensed some pride. “You are welcome. You were an excellent pupil.” H
e paused momentarily. "Miss Potter."
    If her father were listening, he’d have thought it strange, for it would have been the first time that he heard his last name uttered in that voice without disdain.

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