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Knocking me out with those American thighs

While my given name is Brandy, I have recently come to the realization that I am in fact, Chandler Bing.

Writer, reader, animal lover. I've been known to enjoy gifs. And fandom. And books. Supernatural is kind of eating my life right now. But I talk about serious stuff sometimes too.

Also, I like cake.








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Ben Braeden/Team Free Will 2.0 fics
Return to Me
Dreams of Drowning
Bendy Weekend
Dean/Lisa AU
Hogwarts/Spn Crossover


1/3147 »






icoulduseinsouciantmaybe:

 

(Source: whyactlikeahuman, via patroclusandachilles)



color meme Frobisher x Sixsmith + warm colors asked by littlejehan

82 notes
Tagged as: frobismith,


Character Quotes | Augustus ‘Gus’ Waters, The Fault in Our Stars

(via legendarystar-lord)


nataliehickey94:

I bet this is what Coulson has in his bathroom


I need this in my bathroom.

nataliehickey94:

I bet this is what Coulson has in his bathroom

I need this in my bathroom.

(via patroclusandachilles)







teambartonromanoff:

"This is monsters and magic and nothing we were ever trained for."

(via -wondersmith)

1,707 notes
Tagged as: blackhawk,


unhooking-the-stars:

So I was drawing a statue of Orestes and Pylades and it really looks like the one on the left, don’t know if its Orestes or Pylades, is checking his phone. So, E and R had to follow. The text goes:

"Grantaire, hold your sign!"

"World opression will still be around when I finish my text, despite your best efforts, my love."

177 notes
Tagged as: e x r, fanart,

barricadeur:

barricadeur:

here’s the third gif from the set that i posted last night, of george singing the last line of “drink with me.”
i didn’t make it then, but i wanted to post it now, because you can really see — even in this shitty quality — how great george’s acting is. like, even from this angle, it’s absolutely clear that his grantaire is singing that line to enjolras: watch the way his eyes stick to a single point beyond the frame, even as his body begins to turn.  then, as he finally looks away from enjolras, he puts the bottle to his mouth, as if to say, “fuck it.” when aaron talks about this scene, he describes enjolras as being unique in realizing that they’re all about to die, but i think it’s crystal clear here that grantaire knows it too.
and what makes it so fucking brutal — and different from the stage versions i’ve seen — is that grantaire walks away.  we see it, right here; he takes one last, longing look at enjolras, and then makes the decision to leave the barricade. not because he’s afraid, or because he’s abandoning them, but because he cannot bear to watch enjolras — or any of them, but especially enjolras — die. so he takes that long look that you see in the previous frames:

and goes into the café. 
i guess some people might call this cowardice, or abandonment (and maybe that’s how enjolras sees it), but i think it’s intensely human. grantaire wants his last image of enjolras to be as the valiant leader; he wants that to be the memory that he carries of him. not what will inevitably follow. so he drinks his fill of enjolras, so that he’ll always remember him that way, and then he literally drinks, so that he won’t remember anything that comes after.  if everyone else is doomed, enjolras deserves to have even one person carry the memory of him as a hero.
this whole moment makes their last interaction so much more poignant, too. because now we know that enjolras saw grantaire leave the barricade; he knew grantaire had gone, that grantaire hadn’t fallen when the barricade did and that he was somewhere alive.  how did he feel about that? was he glad to see him go? did he feel betrayed, like i said above?
also, note the sway in grantaire’s steps as he walks away. to me, that’s very reminiscent of the way he drunkenly walks to stand beside enjolras in front of the national guard. there’s a common physicality, an almost balletic movement.  it’s nice foreshadowing, for me.
speaking of foreshadowing, as much as i’d love to see this full song (please please please let me get what i want), i’d also love to see the full “one day more,” because there’s a third moment to add to this mix, a third place where grantaire is called upon to stand with enjolras:

think about how that might play out onscreen. it’s the same staircase that grantaire is in front of when he comes to stand with enjolras at the very end. when grantaire wakes up, and sees enjolras about to die alone, that becomes his last image of him. and rather than let it happen, he joins him — this time, without even being asked. he willingly takes his place beside enjolras, completing the character arc we’ve seen develop (or, i guess, we haven’t seen, thanks to edits).

i love that this random meta i wrote is my most popular post of all time…seeing it still get liked/reblogged makes me so happy every time!

barricadeur:

barricadeur:

here’s the third gif from the set that i posted last night, of george singing the last line of “drink with me.”

i didn’t make it then, but i wanted to post it now, because you can really see — even in this shitty quality — how great george’s acting is. like, even from this angle, it’s absolutely clear that his grantaire is singing that line to enjolras: watch the way his eyes stick to a single point beyond the frame, even as his body begins to turn.  then, as he finally looks away from enjolras, he puts the bottle to his mouth, as if to say, “fuck it.” when aaron talks about this scene, he describes enjolras as being unique in realizing that they’re all about to die, but i think it’s crystal clear here that grantaire knows it too.

and what makes it so fucking brutal — and different from the stage versions i’ve seen — is that grantaire walks away.  we see it, right here; he takes one last, longing look at enjolras, and then makes the decision to leave the barricade. not because he’s afraid, or because he’s abandoning them, but because he cannot bear to watch enjolras — or any of them, but especially enjolras — die. so he takes that long look that you see in the previous frames:

and goes into the café. 

i guess some people might call this cowardice, or abandonment (and maybe that’s how enjolras sees it), but i think it’s intensely human. grantaire wants his last image of enjolras to be as the valiant leader; he wants that to be the memory that he carries of him. not what will inevitably follow. so he drinks his fill of enjolras, so that he’ll always remember him that way, and then he literally drinks, so that he won’t remember anything that comes after.  if everyone else is doomed, enjolras deserves to have even one person carry the memory of him as a hero.

this whole moment makes their last interaction so much more poignant, too. because now we know that enjolras saw grantaire leave the barricade; he knew grantaire had gone, that grantaire hadn’t fallen when the barricade did and that he was somewhere alive.  how did he feel about that? was he glad to see him go? did he feel betrayed, like i said above?

also, note the sway in grantaire’s steps as he walks away. to me, that’s very reminiscent of the way he drunkenly walks to stand beside enjolras in front of the national guard. there’s a common physicality, an almost balletic movement.  it’s nice foreshadowing, for me.

speaking of foreshadowing, as much as i’d love to see this full song (please please please let me get what i want), i’d also love to see the full “one day more,” because there’s a third moment to add to this mix, a third place where grantaire is called upon to stand with enjolras:

think about how that might play out onscreen. it’s the same staircase that grantaire is in front of when he comes to stand with enjolras at the very end. when grantaire wakes up, and sees enjolras about to die alone, that becomes his last image of him. and rather than let it happen, he joins him — this time, without even being asked. he willingly takes his place beside enjolras, completing the character arc we’ve seen develop (or, i guess, we haven’t seen, thanks to edits).

i love that this random meta i wrote is my most popular post of all time…seeing it still get liked/reblogged makes me so happy every time!

(via folieaduckling)




brunette-nymphette:

This is the best episode ever

(Source: thingsilearnedfromsatc, via misha-collins)



“After Today” from A Goofy Movie.
 Animated to Live Action Version [x]

(Source: disneyyandmore, via marleequinn)

10,968 notes
Tagged as: disney,

livinginacynicalchaos:

Les Amis de l’ABC - a group which barely missed becoming historic

Enjolras - Enjolras was a charming young man, who was capable of being terrible. He was angelically handsome. He was a savage Antinous. One would have said, to see the pensive thoughtfulness of his glance, that he had already, in some previous state of existence, traversed the revolutionary apocalypse. He possessed the tradition of it as though he had been a witness. He was acquainted with all the minute details of the great affair. A pontifical and warlike nature, a singular thing in a youth. He was an officiating priest and a man of war; from the immediate point of view, a soldier of the democracy; above the contemporary movement, the priest of the ideal.Combeferre - Combeferre represented its philosophy. Between the logic of the Revolution and its philosophy there exists this difference—that its logic may end in war, whereas its philosophy can end only in peace. Combeferre complemented and rectified Enjolras. He was less lofty, but broader. He desired to pour into all minds the extensive principles of general ideas: he said: “Revolution, but civilization”; and around the mountain peak he opened out a vast view of the blue sky. The Revolution was more adapted for breathing with Combeferre than with Enjolras. Enjolras expressed its divine right, and Combeferre its natural right.Courfeyrac - We might almost, so far as Courfeyrac is concerned, stop here, and confine ourselves to saying with regard to what remains: “For Courfeyrac, see Tholomyes.” Courfeyrac had, in fact, that animation of youth which may be called the beaute du diable of the mind. Later on, this disappears like the playfulness of the kitten, and all this grace ends, with the bourgeois, on two legs, and with the tomcat, on four paws. This sort of wit is transmitted from generation to generation of the successive levies of youth who traverse the schools, who pass it from hand to hand, quasi cursores, and is almost always exactly the same; so that, as we have just pointed out, any one who had listened to Courfeyrac in 1828 would have thought he heard Tholomyes in 1817. Only, Courfeyrac was an honorable fellow. Beneath the apparent similarities of the exterior mind, the difference between him and Tholomyes was very great. The latent man which existed in the two was totally different in the first from what it was in the second. There was in Tholomyes a district attorney, and in Courfeyrac a paladin.Grantaire - This sceptic’s name was Grantaire, and he was in the habit of signing himself with this rebus: R. Grantaire was a man who took good care not to believe in anything. Moreover, he was one of the students who had learned the most during their course at Paris; he knew that the best coffee was to be had at the Cafe Lemblin, and the best billiards at the Cafe Voltaire, that good cakes and lasses were to be found at the Ermitage, on the Boulevard du Maine, spatchcocked chickens at Mother Sauget’s, excellent matelotes at the Barriere de la Cunette, and a certain thin white wine at the Barriere du Com pat. He knew the best place for everything; in addition, boxing and foot-fencing and some dances; and he was a thorough single-stick player. He was a tremendous drinker to boot.Jean Prouvaire - Jean Prouvaire was a still softer shade than Combeferre. His name was Jehan, owing to that petty momentary freak which mingled with the powerful and profound movement whence sprang the very essential study of the Middle Ages. Jean Prouvaire was in love; he cultivated a pot of flowers, played on the flute, made verses, loved the people, pitied woman, wept over the child, confounded God and the future in the same confidence, and blamed the Revolution for having caused the fall of a royal head, that of Andre Chenier. His voice was ordinarily delicate, but suddenly grew manly. He was learned even to erudition, and almost an Orientalist. Above all, he was good; and, a very simple thing to those who know how nearly goodness borders on grandeur, in the matter of poetry, he preferred the immense.Joly - Joly was the “malade imaginaire” junior. What he had won in medicine was to be more of an invalid than a doctor. At three and twenty he thought himself a valetudinarian, and passed his life in inspecting his tongue in the mirror. He affirmed that man becomes magnetic like a needle, and in his chamber he placed his bed with its head to the south, and the foot to the north, so that, at night, the circulation of his blood might not be interfered with by the great electric current of the globe. During thunder storms, he felt his pulse. Otherwise, he was the gayest of them all. All these young, maniacal, puny, merry incoherences lived in harmony together, and the result was an eccentric and agreeable being whom his comrades, who were prodigal of winged consonants, called Jolly . “You may fly away on the four L’s,” Jean Prouvaire said to him.

livinginacynicalchaos:

Les Amis de l’ABC - a group which barely missed becoming historic

Enjolras - Enjolras was a charming young man, who was capable of being terrible. He was angelically handsome. He was a savage Antinous. One would have said, to see the pensive thoughtfulness of his glance, that he had already, in some previous state of existence, traversed the revolutionary apocalypse. He possessed the tradition of it as though he had been a witness. He was acquainted with all the minute details of the great affair. A pontifical and warlike nature, a singular thing in a youth. He was an officiating priest and a man of war; from the immediate point of view, a soldier of the democracy; above the contemporary movement, the priest of the ideal.

Combeferre - Combeferre represented its philosophy. Between the logic of the Revolution and its philosophy there exists this difference—that its logic may end in war, whereas its philosophy can end only in peace. Combeferre complemented and rectified Enjolras. He was less lofty, but broader. He desired to pour into all minds the extensive principles of general ideas: he said: “Revolution, but civilization”; and around the mountain peak he opened out a vast view of the blue sky. The Revolution was more adapted for breathing with Combeferre than with Enjolras. Enjolras expressed its divine right, and Combeferre its natural right.

Courfeyrac - We might almost, so far as Courfeyrac is concerned, stop here, and confine ourselves to saying with regard to what remains: “For Courfeyrac, see Tholomyes.” Courfeyrac had, in fact, that animation of youth which may be called the beaute du diable of the mind. Later on, this disappears like the playfulness of the kitten, and all this grace ends, with the bourgeois, on two legs, and with the tomcat, on four paws. This sort of wit is transmitted from generation to generation of the successive levies of youth who traverse the schools, who pass it from hand to hand, quasi cursores, and is almost always exactly the same; so that, as we have just pointed out, any one who had listened to Courfeyrac in 1828 would have thought he heard Tholomyes in 1817. Only, Courfeyrac was an honorable fellow. Beneath the apparent similarities of the exterior mind, the difference between him and Tholomyes was very great. The latent man which existed in the two was totally different in the first from what it was in the second. There was in Tholomyes a district attorney, and in Courfeyrac a paladin.

Grantaire - This sceptic’s name was Grantaire, and he was in the habit of signing himself with this rebus: R. Grantaire was a man who took good care not to believe in anything. Moreover, he was one of the students who had learned the most during their course at Paris; he knew that the best coffee was to be had at the Cafe Lemblin, and the best billiards at the Cafe Voltaire, that good cakes and lasses were to be found at the Ermitage, on the Boulevard du Maine, spatchcocked chickens at Mother Sauget’s, excellent matelotes at the Barriere de la Cunette, and a certain thin white wine at the Barriere du Com pat. He knew the best place for everything; in addition, boxing and foot-fencing and some dances; and he was a thorough single-stick player. He was a tremendous drinker to boot.

Jean Prouvaire - Jean Prouvaire was a still softer shade than Combeferre. His name was Jehan, owing to that petty momentary freak which mingled with the powerful and profound movement whence sprang the very essential study of the Middle Ages. Jean Prouvaire was in love; he cultivated a pot of flowers, played on the flute, made verses, loved the people, pitied woman, wept over the child, confounded God and the future in the same confidence, and blamed the Revolution for having caused the fall of a royal head, that of Andre Chenier. His voice was ordinarily delicate, but suddenly grew manly. He was learned even to erudition, and almost an Orientalist. Above all, he was good; and, a very simple thing to those who know how nearly goodness borders on grandeur, in the matter of poetry, he preferred the immense.

Joly - Joly was the “malade imaginaire” junior. What he had won in medicine was to be more of an invalid than a doctor. At three and twenty he thought himself a valetudinarian, and passed his life in inspecting his tongue in the mirror. He affirmed that man becomes magnetic like a needle, and in his chamber he placed his bed with its head to the south, and the foot to the north, so that, at night, the circulation of his blood might not be interfered with by the great electric current of the globe. During thunder storms, he felt his pulse. Otherwise, he was the gayest of them all. All these young, maniacal, puny, merry incoherences lived in harmony together, and the result was an eccentric and agreeable being whom his comrades, who were prodigal of winged consonants, called Jolly . “You may fly away on the four L’s,” Jean Prouvaire said to him.

184 notes
Tagged as: les mis, research,

wild-n-free-n-stuff:

Do you ever put on an outfit and then think “wow this would look so much nicer if I wasn’t such a fat piece of shit” because same

(via smellwhatdarachiscookin)




fuckyeahcharacterdevelopment:

shannahmcgill:

  • When it’s a scientific field. If you want to include lots of biology in your book, you’d better know more than ninth grade biology.
  • When it’s another culture, or even your own culture in the past. If you rely on only prior knowledge and you get something laughably wrong, you can offend a lot of people.
  • When you want to include the best item in a large category, such as dog breeds or guns, for a specific job.
  • When you’re making an allusion to a book you haven’t read (not a good idea in the first place).
  • When you’re talking about the human body in extreme conditions

you’d better know more than ninth grade biology.

you’d better know more than ninth grade biology.

you’d better know more than ninth grade biology.

(Source: the-right-writing, via writeworld)