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Zoom spastasmagoria: brilliant-snark: storyteller7: a-fiendish-thingy: m-ilo: OMG. “… Stop it.” XD In my mind, that’s Jack’s blood on the ground. Of course it is. He was dead, Sherlock was called and was standing there looking at the body and Jack gasped back and immediately this. The end. :) This is real. in my mind.

spastasmagoria:

brilliant-snark:

storyteller7:

a-fiendish-thingy:

m-ilo:

OMG.

“… Stop it.”

XD

In my mind, that’s Jack’s blood on the ground.

Of course it is. He was dead, Sherlock was called and was standing there looking at the body and Jack gasped back and immediately this. The end. :)

This is real. in my mind.

02.08.12 ♥ 5991
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I dreamed about skaiawall?

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01.29.12 ♥ 5
Zoom gingerybiscuit: chivalrousgambler: gingerybiscuit: Today I woke up intending to be productive and instead I doodled a harry potter crossover. (this happens most days) I don’t get why John’s is a bunny-oh. John’s is a bunny for the same reason that Snape’s is a doe— rather than being something that symbolises him, it’s something that has meaning because of the people connected to it. That bunny has been passed around his friends more than a baton at a relay race, so it’s kind of like a tangible symbol of their eternal brobond. WHILE WE’RE AT IT i tend to stick dave in hufflepuff because seriously okay when dissuading Rose from her suicide mission didn’t work he fought tooth and nail to go with her anyway, not because there was any hope in stopping her or taking her place or being the hero, but so she wouldn’t be alone. BOY IS LOYAL AS FUCK

gingerybiscuit:

chivalrousgambler:

gingerybiscuit:

Today I woke up intending to be productive and instead I doodled a harry potter crossover. (this happens most days)

I don’t get why John’s is a bunny-oh.

John’s is a bunny for the same reason that Snape’s is a doe— rather than being something that symbolises him, it’s something that has meaning because of the people connected to it. That bunny has been passed around his friends more than a baton at a relay race, so it’s kind of like a tangible symbol of their eternal brobond.

WHILE WE’RE AT IT i tend to stick dave in hufflepuff because seriously okay when dissuading Rose from her suicide mission didn’t work he fought tooth and nail to go with her anyway, not because there was any hope in stopping her or taking her place or being the hero, but so she wouldn’t be alone. BOY IS LOYAL AS FUCK

01.09.12 ♥ 351
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Zoom marthur: urbananchorite: renquise: gofordajump: urban junk When I run into pictures like these, I can’t help but yearn for the AU where Vriska and Terezi form a punk rock band. Their band is somewhere between incredibly awful and amazing, riding on Terezi’s nasally scream of a voice and Vriska’s overly enthusiastic guitar skills, which have already resulted in Terezi getting a black eye when Vriska tried climbing up onto Terezi’s kick drum, two broken amps and another one barely holding together with duct tape, and an audience member with a broken clavicle from Vriska stage-diving.  Kanaya eventually joins them as bassist and takes most of the brunt of Vriska, trying to keep some dignity as Vriska hangs all over her and shreds the hell out of her ten-minute guitar solo.  They go on tour together in this unreliable wreck of a van that has a DR4GON (or something like it, if you squint a little) airbrushed on the side, perfoming hits such as “Fuck you, spiders are gr8!!!!!!!” and songs about obscure Roman jurists in dive bars, and occasionally making out.   Through a chance meeting with DJ Strider, who was admiring one of their concert posters (lovingly photocopied in all-colour, despite the fact that it cost a fortune at Kinko’s), they end up opening for indie darling Rose Lalonde, whose music has been described as Owen Pallet, Colin Meloy, and Regina Spektor creating a drunken LP lovebaby and naming it “Irrefragable Averments on Thaumaturgy and the Vicissitudes of Love: The Judgement of Zazzerpan.”  (This is a dream come true for Kanaya and Feferi, who have beaten off many a skinny-pantsed hipster for a front row place at her concerts, right next to the everpresent buck-toothed duo wearing t-shirts with iron-on transfers of Rose’s face and holding signs saying “we love you rose!!!!”  and “rose is the best!!!!!”) Eventually, the three of them end up releasing a collaboration album with Rose, a seven-hour-long symphonic punk metal treatise on magical vampire dragons roaming the countryside and burning shit down.  No one is quite sure what to make of it.  (Pitchfork, the music-review arm of Betty Crocker industries, says that it was a worthy effort, though lacking in baking references.) Oh my God, this picture, this commentary. Songs about obscure Roman jurists. THAT COMMENTARY

marthur:

urbananchorite:

renquise:

gofordajump:

urban junk

When I run into pictures like these, I can’t help but yearn for the AU where Vriska and Terezi form a punk rock band. Their band is somewhere between incredibly awful and amazing, riding on Terezi’s nasally scream of a voice and Vriska’s overly enthusiastic guitar skills, which have already resulted in Terezi getting a black eye when Vriska tried climbing up onto Terezi’s kick drum, two broken amps and another one barely holding together with duct tape, and an audience member with a broken clavicle from Vriska stage-diving.  Kanaya eventually joins them as bassist and takes most of the brunt of Vriska, trying to keep some dignity as Vriska hangs all over her and shreds the hell out of her ten-minute guitar solo.  They go on tour together in this unreliable wreck of a van that has a DR4GON (or something like it, if you squint a little) airbrushed on the side, perfoming hits such as “Fuck you, spiders are gr8!!!!!!!” and songs about obscure Roman jurists in dive bars, and occasionally making out.  
 
Through a chance meeting with DJ Strider, who was admiring one of their concert posters (lovingly photocopied in all-colour, despite the fact that it cost a fortune at Kinko’s), they end up opening for indie darling Rose Lalonde, whose music has been described as Owen Pallet, Colin Meloy, and Regina Spektor creating a drunken LP lovebaby and naming it “Irrefragable Averments on Thaumaturgy and the Vicissitudes of Love: The Judgement of Zazzerpan.”  (This is a dream come true for Kanaya and Feferi, who have beaten off many a skinny-pantsed hipster for a front row place at her concerts, right next to the everpresent buck-toothed duo wearing t-shirts with iron-on transfers of Rose’s face and holding signs saying “we love you rose!!!!”  and “rose is the best!!!!!”)
 
Eventually, the three of them end up releasing a collaboration album with Rose, a seven-hour-long symphonic punk metal treatise on magical vampire dragons roaming the countryside and burning shit down.  No one is quite sure what to make of it.  (Pitchfork, the music-review arm of Betty Crocker industries, says that it was a worthy effort, though lacking in baking references.)

Oh my God, this picture, this commentary.

Songs about obscure Roman jurists.

THAT COMMENTARY

12.03.11 ♥ 688
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