I got all of these cuties this weekend. ^.^

(Source: lucastakei, via tinyzuko)



Comparing your relationship to Romeo and Juliet to express how in love you are is kind of like using Hamlet to demonstrate how close and well-adjusted your family life is

(via vincent-van-gohome)



family dinners more like


(via medioxumatepoet)


sunvapor said: What the fucks happening in Ferguson?


Alright, i’m gonna sit down and basically explain the situation in this ask so everyone of my followers knows why i’m so pissed.

Michael Brown, a 17 - 18 year old african american boy was unlawfully shot (8-10 times supposedly) by police in St Louis, Missouri on saturday, august 9th, 2014. He was unarmed, and had done nothing to attract suspicion other than the fact that he was black. His body was left in the street for 4 hours. (beware: somewhat graphic image linked)

There are several claims from witnesses (see: Dorian Johnson’s account and video [HIGHLY RECOMMEND READING UP ON HIS ACCOUNT, ITS VERY SPECIFIC] — Brown’s friend who experienced the situation first hand, La’Toya Cash and Phillip Walker— Ferguson residents nearby the incident),  that fall together in generally close claims. However, the only one who’s claim seems out of place is the police officer’s who shot Brown. Who, by the way, is put off on paid administrative leave AND who’s name remained under anonymity for his safety (However, attorney Benjamin Crump is looking for a way to force release his name). He claims that Brown began to wrestle the officer for his gun and tried attacking him after he told Brown and his friend Dorian Johnson (22) to “get the f*ck on the sidewalk”.

According to Johnson, after a minor confrontation on the officer’s part where he grabbed Brown by the neck and then by the shirt, the officer pulled his gun on Brown and shot him at point blank range on the right side of his body. Brown and Johnson were able to get away briefly and started running. However, Brown was shot in the back, supposedly disabling him from getting very far. He turned around with his arms in the air and said “I don’t have a gun, stop shooting!” By this point, Brown and the officer were face to face as the cop shot him several times in the face and chest until he was finally dead. Johnson ran to his apartment and by the sound of his account, seemingly had some sort of panic attack. Later he emerged from his home to see Brown still laying in the streets. People were gathered with their cellphones, screaming at the police.

According to msnbc, the police refuse to interview Johnson at all, despite his amazing courage to come forward. They didn’t wanna hear it. They only listened to the cop’s account of it all and were vague with the media on what they thought happened. They’ve also refused to commit to a timeline in releasing autopsy results and other investigation information.

Numerous rumors are sweeping around such as Brown stealing candy from a QuickTrip, the store he emerged from calling the cops on him, Brown reaching for a gun, Brown attacking the cop first, ect. But these have all been debunked. (I know a lot of these have been debunked, but im having a hard time finding sources. if anyone could help out and link some legit ones id be SO grateful)

The event in and of itself was terrible, but now it has escalated beyond belief. Around 100 or more people, mostly black, went to the police station to protest peacefully. Things quickly turned bad as martial law got involved and authorities were bringing in K9s, tanks, heavy artillery, ect. The heavy police presence only made things worse as riots began to break out and looting and vandalism started. [ x ] [ x ] [ x ]

Now, as of very recently, the media has been banned from Ferguson. There is also a No-Fly zone above Ferguson for the reason of “ TO PROVIDE A SAFE ENVIRONMENT FOR LAW ENFORCEMENT ACTIVITIES ” as said on the Federal Aviation Commission’s website. Cop cars are lined up on the borders to prevent people from entering/leaving. Media outlets are being threatened with arrest. It completely violates our amendments and everything.

It’s becoming increasingly scary and difficult to find out whats going on over there. I’m afraid this is all the information I have, though. If anybody else knows anything about the situation, please feel free to add on or correct any mistakes i’ve made as i’m no expert on writing these things.

And as a personal favor, i’d really appreciate anyone to give this a reblog in order to spread the word. I think it’s a shame that this is going on in our own country yet so few people know about it. Help me make this topic huge and get this as much attention as possible.


They just fired on the crowd!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! peaceful protesters



watch this link please now!!!!!!!!!!!!

Do not just like this, reblog it and watch it, they need witnesses, the police need to know they are being watched and that black lives fucking matter 

(via runicbasso)



(via medioxumatepoet)



Dylan No HomO’brien




I have no idea what’s going on




I have no idea what’s going on

(Source: jonklassen2, via not-theright-bowie)




From Salt Lake City to New Orleans. We stopped at the Grand Canyon before reaching our camping spot.

I just realized that I’m posting these in reverse from the way the trip went, since we actually ended in New Orleans, but whatever.


An Ollivander’s Wand is Not Meant For the Sea



Those wizards without their sea-legs scoffed at our magic. They laughed at our “substandard” wands made from merpeople scales, shards of sea dragon teeth, or the hair from a hippocampus. They chuckled because we used wood from sunken ships and far off places, wood that Mr. Ollivander had never seen.

“Not up to scratch, those sailors’ wands. Not made by Ollivander!” rang in our ears each time we went to shore.

Have you ever tried to barter with a mermaid for her scales while struggling to resist her song?

Have you ever tried to fight a sea dragon off your ship as its tail wraps around the flimsy wood and starts to squeeze?

Have you ever even seen a hippocampus?

No, our wands were not made from valuable wand woods or expensive materials, but they were wands, all the same. They were powerful in different ways.

They channeled the fear of the drowned. The peace and freedom of the vast ocean. The violence of the Maelstrom. The cunning of the merpeople. The grace of the hippocampi. The magnificent destruction that characterizes the sea dragon.

But our wands were powerful not because they were wands, but because they were not all we used to cast our sea-spells and water-magic. Our wands were never meant to be the end-all of magic, but a crude expression of far older, far more elegant sea-spells and water-magic.

In the tar used to seal the planks of the vessel together we mixed drops of our blood. We learned that from the hot ports of Africa. Our ship never leaked.

On our three masts and figurehead were carved harsh and jagged runes that spoke of the harsh waters of the Arctic. My mast was hacked and chiseled by a descendent of Leif Eriksson himself. My masts never broke; the figurehead would spring to life and tear apart the ships we overtook if I gave the word.

My first mate learned to stitch sails from a woman who spun the threads from the foam of the sea itself, from the kami of the ocean. My sails needed no raising and lowering, no trimming; that was for amateurs and landcrawlers. No, my sails reacted to the slightest wind, moving of their own volition and taking me where I wished to go.

And whenever a storm would approach, the crew would circle around the mainmast and begin a chanting, stomping dance we learned from the First Peoples of the West Indies. Somehow, the waves were never quite high enough to cause us danger, and the winds never fought against my vessel, however the storm raged.

Those fools that passed for wizards did not know or care about our magic on the sea, but their vaunted Ollivander wands are worse than useless on the swells and the troughs. That’s land magic. There are far older magics in the world, magics that tap into the very fabrics of the deep earth and vast fathoms. They try to control the world around them with magic, but the world will not be controlled. Their magic is puny compared to the fury of the ocean.

Sail through a hurricane with one of your wands.

I have some new deckhands that need good wands; the wood from your shattered hull would do nicely.

When it is you sailing against the vastness and power of Poseidon and Sedna and Mizuchi and Tangoroa and Njord all at once, you do what you must to survive.

The sea has no boundaries, no borders, and neither does our magic.

We ask we put to shore, wherever that may be, if there is some way to connect ourselves to the might of the sea and become one with the waves and winds. We seafarers learned long ago that to fight the sea is to drown. Our magic is from the sea, not from land. That, Mr. Rookwood, is how and why we survived.

- Captain Alanna Jones, famed wizarding pirate and great-granddaughter of Davy Jones

(Submitted by mastersamwiseofthefryingpan. Photo 1)

(via queerdean)