"WHY DO THEY ALWAYS SLICE THEIR PALM TO GET BLOOD. do you know how many nerve endings are in your hand?!?! why don’t they ever cut the back of their arm or their leg or something omfg"

me everytime a character in a movie has to get a few drops of their blood for some ritual bullshit  (via jtoday)

WHILE WE’RE AT IT, why do people try to cross those skinny bridges over lava/chasms/whatever by walking upright. IT’S CALLED CENTER OF GRAVITY. get on your hands and knees and crawl across that thing. HUG IT. SCOOT YOUR BUTT ACROSS. “but i look stupid!” lalalala but we’ll avoid that ~dramatic moment~ where you almost fall over and die because your damn fucking self wanted to look COOL

(via jtoday)

and stop yanking IV lines out of your arms the minute you wake up in the hospital 

(via panconkiwi)

That is a broadsword, why are you fencing with it

(via gallifrey-feels)

There is a freaking door right there. Stop smashing through windows, damn it.

(via intheforestofthenight)

yes, mr. action hero, I am aware that running dramatically from the baddies at breakneck speed is important, but know what else is important? NOT GETTING SHOT. RUN IN A FUCKING ZIGZAG PATTERN ON THE OFF CHANCE THAT THE MOOKS WERE NOT COACHED IN MARKSMANSHIP BY THE IMPERIAL STORMTROOPERS.

(via pterriblepterodactyls)

Oh, hey, you there, sneaky hero-type breaking into any place for any reason? WEAR SOME FUCKING GLOVES. They’re called fingerprints, dumbass. You have them and you’re putting them all over the fucking place.

(via dawnpuppet)

If something really fucking huge is falling on you, don’t FUCKING RUN ALONG THE LENGTH JUST TAKE LIKE TWO FUCKING STEPS TO THE SIDE

(via takshammy)

wEAR A FUCKING HELMET OBERYN YOU LITTLE SHIT

(via brigwife)

And for god’s sake, PUT PRESSURE ON THAT WOUND, DON’T SIT THERE AND WATCH THEM BLEED OUT. I’m talking to you, TV cops.

(via fixyourwritinghabits)

Check for a pulse damn it!

(via marauders4evr)

sHOOT IT OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN. PUT A BULLET THROUGH ITS HEART FFS. AT LEAST MAKE SURE IT’S 100% DEAD

(via zamwinchester)
strangecousinsusanx:

pale-fire:

Feminist Graffiti from the 1970s [x]

I haven’t seen this in a while. It never gets old.

strangecousinsusanx:

pale-fire:

Feminist Graffiti from the 1970s [x]

I haven’t seen this in a while. It never gets old.
jkimisyellow:

krusty-krab-trainee:

mymindtardis:

loki-dokey:

ennead13x:

findinggaby:

eggsie:dirkstridersironicgirlfriend:smuppetdong:legnaangel:scarabeus:onceaspoiler:fluent-in-lesbianism:







Only tumblr can give me feels about math…

^
why.

crying.

I feel like this could accurately describe some ships I’ve shipped.

Fucking math feels

And whats even worse is regular ol’ intersecting lines
They meet once and grow farther apart forever.



That awkward moment when you start shipping lines.
I think it’s time that I step away from the computer…

If I were a math teacher, I’d have this printed and posted in my classroom. It’s a pretty effective way of remembering which type of line is which.

I’m shipping….lines?

…Maths fanfiction time! (opposite gendered pronouns for simplicity’s sake, so I don’t constantly have to write Sine and Cosine to help distinguish between hir and hir)
Sine swaggered up the graph. There was little on the abandoned grid except the erased skeletons of would be Lines, dead before they had a chance to alleviate his boredom. Humans were foolish in this way: they created with pencil, which smudged and faded, destroying as fast as they built. Then again, most Lines were dull, never changing, never exploring what could be. Few would ever be able to keep up with Sine’s creativity, his rapid changes of interest, his gracious dance that was so tightly controlled.
Then he met her. She cut her way across him, and then she waltzed away. A split second of a touch, and he knew, he knew, she was like him. Almost to a fault. A perfect imitation. Imitation, Sine told himself, was the finest form of flattery. But secretly, he was annoyed. He had enjoyed his uniqueness, the sense that he was the only one that truly went on forever without going anywhere. He had been the only one confined and infinite. Now, he wasn’t special, nothing to distinguish him from the dull others.
The second time, it was almost taunting. As she flashed across his view, he called for her name. “Cose” she replied, before bounding out his reach again. An odd name, to be sure, but better that than stealing yet another thing from him.
Their meetings became more frequent, longer, and Sine began to see her coming, often shouting to her from across the grid. Although at first their similarities had made them clash, Sine realised slowly that perhaps it was better that there were two of them. After all, it takes two to tango, and their’s was the most exciting of tangoes. Even though Cose seemed to know more than she let on, always the more skilled dancer on their stage.
Finally, Cose and Sine reached the stage where they were intersecting as often as not. It was fun, pleasant, almost calming. There was balance in Sine’s world.
“Ever feel we were fated?” he once asked her.
“Since before I met you,” Cose replied, shooting away once again, slipping down the negative side of the graph, elegant as a swallow.
“What do you mean?”
“We’re the same, you and I. Two sides of a coin. I am your perfect compliment. I’m designed to be.”
“Speak sense, Cose!”
“My full name’s Cosine.”
Something clicked in Sine. Suddenly he reached out, grasped her. Cose flinched away, before returning, a small smile playing on her lips. “What’s next?” he asked quietly
“Continual intersecting for the rest of infinite.”
“Sounds good.”
After that, the two Lines waltzed their way across the graph. Confined and infinite, different but the same. More interesting, more important than any other line. When all other lines ceased, their faded marks a thing of the past, still Sine and Cosine waltzed, loneliness a memory that had passed.

LOL

FUCKKKKKKKKKKK FEEELINGGGGGSSSS

jkimisyellow:

krusty-krab-trainee:

mymindtardis:

loki-dokey:

ennead13x:

findinggaby:

eggsie:dirkstridersironicgirlfriend:smuppetdong:legnaangel:scarabeus:onceaspoiler:fluent-in-lesbianism:

Only tumblr can give me feels about math…

^

why.

crying.

I feel like this could accurately describe some ships I’ve shipped.

Fucking math feels

And whats even worse is regular ol’ intersecting lines

They meet once and grow farther apart forever.

image

That awkward moment when you start shipping lines.

I think it’s time that I step away from the computer…

If I were a math teacher, I’d have this printed and posted in my classroom. It’s a pretty effective way of remembering which type of line is which.

I’m shipping….lines?

…Maths fanfiction time! (opposite gendered pronouns for simplicity’s sake, so I don’t constantly have to write Sine and Cosine to help distinguish between hir and hir)

Sine swaggered up the graph. There was little on the abandoned grid except the erased skeletons of would be Lines, dead before they had a chance to alleviate his boredom. Humans were foolish in this way: they created with pencil, which smudged and faded, destroying as fast as they built. Then again, most Lines were dull, never changing, never exploring what could be. Few would ever be able to keep up with Sine’s creativity, his rapid changes of interest, his gracious dance that was so tightly controlled.

Then he met her. She cut her way across him, and then she waltzed away. A split second of a touch, and he knew, he knew, she was like him. Almost to a fault. A perfect imitation. Imitation, Sine told himself, was the finest form of flattery. But secretly, he was annoyed. He had enjoyed his uniqueness, the sense that he was the only one that truly went on forever without going anywhere. He had been the only one confined and infinite. Now, he wasn’t special, nothing to distinguish him from the dull others.

The second time, it was almost taunting. As she flashed across his view, he called for her name. “Cose” she replied, before bounding out his reach again. An odd name, to be sure, but better that than stealing yet another thing from him.

Their meetings became more frequent, longer, and Sine began to see her coming, often shouting to her from across the grid. Although at first their similarities had made them clash, Sine realised slowly that perhaps it was better that there were two of them. After all, it takes two to tango, and their’s was the most exciting of tangoes. Even though Cose seemed to know more than she let on, always the more skilled dancer on their stage.

Finally, Cose and Sine reached the stage where they were intersecting as often as not. It was fun, pleasant, almost calming. There was balance in Sine’s world.

“Ever feel we were fated?” he once asked her.

“Since before I met you,” Cose replied, shooting away once again, slipping down the negative side of the graph, elegant as a swallow.

“What do you mean?”

“We’re the same, you and I. Two sides of a coin. I am your perfect compliment. I’m designed to be.”

“Speak sense, Cose!”

“My full name’s Cosine.”

Something clicked in Sine. Suddenly he reached out, grasped her. Cose flinched away, before returning, a small smile playing on her lips. “What’s next?” he asked quietly

“Continual intersecting for the rest of infinite.”

“Sounds good.”

After that, the two Lines waltzed their way across the graph. Confined and infinite, different but the same. More interesting, more important than any other line. When all other lines ceased, their faded marks a thing of the past, still Sine and Cosine waltzed, loneliness a memory that had passed.

LOL

FUCKKKKKKKKKKK FEEELINGGGGGSSSS

littlehazy:

screamandshout:

britney explains things like no other

she has such a way with words

lordmoldywart:

I’LL REBLOG THIS TILL I DIE

lordmoldywart:

I’LL REBLOG THIS TILL I DIE

prismatic-bell:

loki-has-a-tardis:

This is honestly the best poster I have found in a while supporting breast cancer awareness. I am honestly so sick of seeing, “set the tatas free” and “save the boobies”. There is no reason in hell a life threatening, life ruining disease should be sexualized. “Don’t wear a bra day,” go fuck yourselves. You’re not saving a pair of tits, you’re saving the entire package: mind, body, and soul included. Women are not just a pair of breasts.

Friendly reminder that the National Cancer Society uses “Celebrate More Birthdays.”

i.e., by saving women we let them have more special days with their families, alive and healthy.

Friendly reminder that Komen’s jumped on the tatas train.

prismatic-bell:

loki-has-a-tardis:

This is honestly the best poster I have found in a while supporting breast cancer awareness. I am honestly so sick of seeing, “set the tatas free” and “save the boobies”. There is no reason in hell a life threatening, life ruining disease should be sexualized. “Don’t wear a bra day,” go fuck yourselves. You’re not saving a pair of tits, you’re saving the entire package: mind, body, and soul included. Women are not just a pair of breasts.

Friendly reminder that the National Cancer Society uses “Celebrate More Birthdays.”

i.e., by saving women we let them have more special days with their families, alive and healthy.

Friendly reminder that Komen’s jumped on the tatas train.

"

Sandra Fluke heard it when she talked about insurance coverage for birth control. Sara Brown from Boston told me she was first called it at a pool party in the fifth grade because she was wearing a bikini. Courtney Caldwell in Dallas said she was tagged with it after being sexually assaulted as a freshman in high school.

Many women I asked even said that it was not having sex that inspired a young man to start rumors that they were one.

And this is what is so confounding about the word “slut”: it’s arguably the most ubiquitous slur used against women, and yet it’s nearly impossible to define.

"

What makes a slut? The only rule, it seems, is being female, my latest at the Guardian US (via jessicavalenti)

Lena Tannenbaum’s SLUT! is an interesting book on the subject if you can find a copy.  She talked to a number of women who got tagged with the same, and she speaks about her own experiences as well.

(via tamorapierce)

ryancrobert:

you can just tell that Nicki Minaj is the kind of person that when you’re telling a story and everyone else in the group is talking over you, she’s making direct eye contact with you and paying extra attention so that you don’t get discouraged and stop mid-story

spookoofins:

are the pumpkin spice lattes really worth all that gloom?

i have had too much coffee

….SHIT you’re adorable and cute

alrights:

death-by-lulz:

AND HERE WE HAVE MY BIGGEST PET PEEVE

YES

alrights:

death-by-lulz:

AND HERE WE HAVE MY BIGGEST PET PEEVE

YES

mulders:

cmikerun:

mulders:

Men Stop Threatening To Kill Your Daughters Boyfriends To Prove Your Masculinity and Show That Your Daughter Is Your Property 2k14

What about the moms?

if this post was about the moms i would’ve said so, but as you can see, it’s about the fathers. weird

Track Title: Hey There Castiel (Answer Me)

Artist: Kira&Steph

kingofhellsdaughter:

nexxious7:

samquatch:

seedysunflower:

Hey There Castiel (Answer Me)

A “Hey There Delilah” Parody

Album art and lyrics by Steph (seedysunflower), vocals by Kira (fucksocial)


——

Hey there Castiel

Well I’m sure you’ve heard me calling

You’re a thousand miles away but still

Somehow I know you’re listening

You must be

What’s free will’s point if I’m not free?

‘Cause you’ve trapped me

 ——

Hey there Castiel

Why’d you bother pulling me out?

‘Cause without you I’m right back in hell

And frankly I’d take burning

Over this

All of my prayers you’ll just dismiss

But it’s you I miss

 —-

Oh why won’t you answer me x4

Please just answer me

 —-

Hey there Castiel

You know all things fall apart

It’s unavoidable,

It happens, cities rise and fall like art

But still you hoped

For years we’ve hung on to this rope

We hung ‘till choked

 —-

Hey there Castiel

I’ve still got so much left to say

If every little prayer I sent to you

Could erase this all away

I’d send them all

Then you wouldn’t ever have to fall

You’d still have it all

 —-

Oh why can’t you answer me x4

—-

Cas it’s now been much too long

For me, this once just play along

I need to know if you’re going to be okay

Our friends are trying to be strong

On their faces though, it’s as clear as dawn

That none of them had wanted it this way

Cas, now things are getting’ rough

Yesterday’s hope won’t be enough

Come morning, I will never be the same

And you’re to blame

 —-

Hey there Castiel

Well I’m sure you’ve heard me calling

You’re a thousand miles away and now

I know that you’re not listening

Now I see

Once I deigned to call you family

Still I need you like you needed me

Hey there Castiel, can’t you see

You set me free

—-

Oh why won’t you answer me x4

Please just answer me

I CANT

I LEARNED HEYT THERE DELILAH ON GUITAR FOR THIS MOTHER FUCKING SONG