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Andulka
Kaledo Art
shark vs the universe
AnasAbdin
Three Goblin Art
Cosmic Funnies
will byers stan first human second
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Misplaced Lens Cap
$LAYYYTER
Monterey Bay Aquarium
Love Begins
todays bird
@theartofmadeline
sheepfilms
RMH
Not today Justin
tumblr dot com
Product Placement
seen from United States
seen from United Arab Emirates
seen from Germany
seen from Malaysia
seen from Hong Kong SAR China
seen from T1
seen from Israel
seen from United States
seen from Austria
seen from United States
seen from Japan
seen from Germany
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Romania
seen from Burkina Faso
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from India
seen from Iraq
@corgigalmel
“MAN THIS STORY I’M WRITING IS GONNA BE SO GOOD I’M SO PUMPED”
“I CAN’T WAIT TO DEVELOP THE SHIT OUT OF THESE CHARACTERS”
“HOT DAMN THAT ONE SCENE NEAR THE MIDDLE IS GONNA BE BITCHIN’”
“THIS PLOT TWIST IS THE SINGLE BEST IDEA I’VE EVER HAD IN MY LIFE”
~one hour later~
the story of my life in one post
I was laughing out loud for several minutes, that’s how relatable this is…
I’m offended
2017 Best of Rotten Tomatoes (by Adjusted Score)
Saw 6/10!
...and far more movies that scored below 50%. And one that scored below 10% (sigh, come on Ring franchise)
There’s really nothing quite like when you go to the cinema to see a new Star Wars film, and there’s that moment when the STAR WARS title comes up on the screen and you hear the first notes of the theme.
There truly are no words to describe that feeling.
It’s almost enough to bring a tear to your eye, and I’m not even a hardcore Star Wars fan.
The only thing better is to hear Hedwig’s theme begin to play. Looking forward to Fantastic Beasts 2018!
A thought : Teacher! Percival and Pupil! Tina. High school setting, college AU, whatever tickles your fancy. Just, sleek spectacles framing Percival’s velvety dark eyes just fight, thick scarves smelling like coffee, fingers brushing as he gives back papers, sharp breaths when they meet each other’s eyes, and the blushing, and the shame, and the exquisite thrill trembling down their limbs when Percival finally gives in. When Tina presses her soft, lithe body against his, he holds her back. Pushes her in the dark nook by the door - safe from wandering eyes. Touches her back, her hips, her hair - breathing in her clean, flowery scent, rustles of silk and fabric following his hands. Her pulse feathers in her neck - he sees it as she tucks her nose against his throat. Good - ‘cause his own heart is trying to break free of his chest.
We should stop, is what he’s supposed to say. But what he’s saying, what he’s feverishly whispering in her ear is “Tina, Tina, Tina…”
Again and again and again.
She’s fumbling with his tie. Pushing a knee between his leg. Undoing him, completely. “You want me to stop, Mister Graves?” she asks. Then, hesitantly: “You want me to stop… Percival?”
And oh, so many things in a name. So many nights spent in her room, lying on her fluffy bed, thinking about it - trying that forbidden name on her mouth like a new lipstick. It kills him.
Percival swallows, closes his hands on her waist. And yanks her closer.
“No,” he chokes out, finding her lips, “I don’t want you to stop.”
!!! didn’t know this existed and need more!
for besando@ficbook and my fellow goldgraves shippers out there
Love it! Someone bring Colin back so we can have this moment
(a girl can dream)
@forwen made me do this. thanks sweetie
Awesome art for a little fandom
early Christmas gift for @coffeesugarcream ❤︎
↳ Grindelwald/Graves + murder husbands AU
“Mr. Graves!” Tina sobs out, relief washing through her, so strong her knees buckle. Her chains are the only thing keeping her upright. Oh God, he’s here, he’s found her, somehow, she’s safe now, she’s –
“Tina,” Mr. Graves says, and he sounds odd. Instead of attacking Gellert Grindelwald, he nods in his direction. Grindelwald smiles back. “What have I told you about sticking your nose where it didn’t belong?”
YESSSS! I will go down with this ship but ugh I love it!
Hufflepuff/Thunderbirds are literally Bilbo Baggins
Idk who Priscilla is but I trust her
Source
Where Am I Now?: True Stories of Girlhood and Accidental Fame by Mara Wilson
100% accurate in my experience. These are the type of people that when you go to dinner the left side of the table is all women and the right is all men because different genders MUST enjoy talking about completely different things and never intersect
I fixed J*hnny D*pp’s bleached pineapple face with Colin Farrell’s. You’re welcome
Bring our boy back!
....but with Grindelwald? XD
Elective mutism was defined as a refusal to speak in almost all social situations (despite normal ability to do so), while selective mutism is considered to be a failure to speak in specific situations and is strongly associated with social anxiety disorder. This is what google brings up. Hope it helps. Just. Graves not talking. I want him silent by choice to an extent. With a few trusted people he can/will talk to.
I love it :) or perhaps he doesn’t talk to anyone at all at first, but the more Newt (or whoever) gains his trust, the more he opens up - still without talking.
The first words he pronounces since his captivity are those of a strong defensive spell to save Newt from harm. He’d been ambushed by a group of Grindelwald’s followers who are quite unhappy this Brit made their plans fail and got Grindelwald captured.
This is all the more shocking to everyone present because they know that Graves can do wordless magic. Most people, Aurors and criminals alike never even hear a whisper from the Director, just a slew of sharp spells that could through the air and demolish anyone in their way.
The defensive spell is so powerful that it sends the blasted curses right back to Grindelwald’s followers - twice as strong.
No one bothers Newt ever again.
What comes hot on the heels of Halloween? NOIRVEMBER!!
In the last one I just see Graves about to start somethin’ with Grindelwald in the other end of that tunnel
Collin Farrel as George Pierce in Roman J. Israel, Esq. Exclusive Clip. x
This man and the suits.
Ugh, now I need to do a modern AU
If Graves was an animagus, what do you think he'd be? (And how much did the Scamander bros coo over whatever he ended up being)
OH MY GOD ANON YES
t’s all theDog’s fault, of course.
The Cat maybe a Cat - so moody, solitary, fashionably lazy, and a lover of fine thingslike comfy couches and damask wallpaper to hone his nails on - but he’s also aprofessional. Even in this form, when sometimes human thoughts get muddy andpointless, he knows he has a job to do, and he knows damn well how to do it.
Back at thecamp, the General told him they needed intelligence. He wasn’t surprised. They’vealready done it. The plan is simple: getting a Cat - especially a well-groomed,soft-furred black cat like himself - into the enemy’s camp is a lot easier thansneaking in humans, magical or not, and his admittedly exceptional ability tokeep his human wits about him even when prowling the world on four paws makesit sure he could get in, overhear a couple of conversations as Generals andtouch-starved Colonels pets the hell out of him, and gets back to his superiorofficers to report. Pure genius. Easy as pie.
Not thattrudging through the desolate expanse of war-ravaged French country is aparticularly pleasant experience. His thick fur is keeping him warm enough, butthe feeling of winter-hard mud under his soft paws sends chills all the way tohis spine every time he takes a step. He’s traveled most of the way via trees,jumping nimbly from one crooked branch to the next, but now that he’sapproaching the enemy he needs to get in character.
Playing themeek, starved kitty cat is tricky business when you look like a perfectlyhealthy wild-cat: so bigger than any house cat, with nails able to scrap aman’s face raw with ease, and eyes glowing bright yellow and way too sentient.When you look at the Cat out of the corner of the eye, many reliable peoplehave told him, you can wholeheartedly understand why Irish people told tales ofbig cats prowling the fairy hills, jumping traveler to charm them or devourthem, as vain and powerful as demons and demigods.
The storieswere true. They sing in his Irish blood.
On theother hand, his purring is absolutely fantastic. People tend to oversee lots ofthings when you’re purring at full force against their legs.
The Catpaddles his way to the camp, as tent-scattered and flimsy-looking as his own.He’s made sure to curl his tail around his hind legs, the very image of thequivering little stray. He’s considering throwing in a little shivering too,when he hears it.
A barking.Playful and loud - and coming closer.
The Cateyes the branch of a tree, high above him, but has no time to react. The Dogsprings out of the bushes at his left, stumbling on his path - and fasteninghis eyes on him.
There’ssomething disturbing about the Dog’s eyes. There’s something disturbing aboutthe Dog, period. Too big, for one -although the damn things come in all shapes and sizes, as messy and confused intheir own look as with everything else. Bulging, sleek muscles twitch under theDog’s auburn fur - mottled with all the hues of Autumn leaves, from ruddy redto dark gray to dirty gold. The ears are large, floppy, but the rows of teethflashing under his red, panting tongue are predator’s fangs.
And theeyes… the Dog’s eyes are green. Notlime green, but the speckled, gray-green of certain late Fall mornings.
And theylook amused. The Dog looks amused.
The Cat isdefinitively not.
He startshissing, arching his back, puffing out fur, the message practically gleaming inbold letters over his head. Get out of myway. Get the Hell out of my way, you yappy fool.
As thingsgo with dogs, the Dog doesn’t get the hint. He comes closer, yaps at him.
Inresponse, the Cat slashes his nails across the Dog’s big black nose.
The Doghowls in pain - sounding actually hurt,both in the flesh and in his feelings. The Cat lets out a rumbling meow edgingon the roar, just to drive the point at home.
The Dog growls, baring teeth. He startsbarking, loud and cocky, and something extremely Cat-like snaps on in the Cat’smind.
The Humanpart knows he should ignore the stupid thing, and get down to business.
The Catpart is screaming for revenge, and it wins.
The Catslunges again - scrapes nails against the Dog’s muzzle. It howls, and snapsteeth. The Cat meows in satisfaction, peering out between slit eyelids with hislarge yellow eyes.
The Doggrowls, lower now, and pounces closer. There’s a hint of pissed maliciousnessin his green eyes.
Uh-Oh.
The Catdecides it’s the perfect moment for an elegant retreat.
He spins onhimself, jumping towards the tree he’s glimpsed earlier - in the exact momenthe feels the Dog’s jaws snap closed around the tip of his tail.
***
WhenPercival comes back to his camp with not a scrap of intelligence and rubbingthe sore spot on his ass sporting the neat marks of canines, he’s completelypuzzled to find out his superiors already knows the mission has turned into afucking disaster. He’s even more puzzled when he discovers the one informingthem is a tall, ruddy-haired, frekled-faced Brit guy sitting miserably outsideof the command tent - and pressing a clean towel against the bloody gashes onhis nose.
And that’show Lieutenant Percival Graves meets Lieutenant Theseus Scamander.
Ending is too good not to reblog lol poor Thes!
My new motivational poster:
@vodkertonic I think you might find this handy!
@thegaypumpingthroughyourveins my new background XD
For all the readers who stop to leave comments on fanfic: thank you.
You are the reason I keep writing after bad days.
Seriously, thanks so much!!!
