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Hello there! I love writing poetry, and thinking introspectively about fictional characters' lives. Some things to know about me: KuroFai is my OTP to rule all OTPs, and Kurogane is my favorite character. I love Miyazaki movies. Case in point--Spirited Away is my favorite movie. My favorite book is Pride and Prejudice. My favorite songs are Pieces by Red, Gravity by Sara Bareilles, and Shattered by Trading Yesterday. My favorite manga is Tokyo Babylon. Currently, I am reading Wuthering Heights. Have a great day!

city-fog-and-brave-dialogue:

ioweyouasoul:

LISTEN UP MOTHER FUCKERS

SEE THIS WEBSITE? 

ITS CALLED WOLFRAM ALPHA

THIS IS THE BEST GODDAMN WEBSITE FOR ACADEMIC SHIT. FUCK GOOGLE. 

THIS MOTHERFUCKER WILL LET YOU SEARCH “HOSPITAL BEDS IN CHAD VS. IRAN” 

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AND IT GIVES YOU A STRAIGHT GODDAMN ANSWER 

MAYBE YOU’RE NOT INTERESTED IN DOCTORNESS OF THIRD WORLD COUNTRIES COOL SHIT 

HAVING TROUBLE WITH MATH?

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HOLY SHIT

OR MAYBE YOU WANNA DICK AROUND

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WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU WANT

reasons why tumblr aids education

(Source: literalmarveltrash)

hermoine spending her first year freaking out bc she never thinks she's good enough. hermione crying in the library alone bc she got something wrong and thinks she's gonna be kicked out. hermione generally feeling crap because she has no friends yet to validate her intelligence etc

the-ballad-of-peter-pettigrew:

Dear Mum and Dad…

Even the owls had started to avoid her. Every time Hermione entered the owlery, they began to shift about on their perches, flapping nervously. They knew her letters were twice as long and heavy as the average students, and that she wrote home almost every day. You’d have thought they were trying to escape an executioner’s axe. Anyway, it wasn’t her fault. She only wrote her parents so much because she didn’t have anyone else to talk to.

You wouldn’t believe how fascinating the wizarding world is. The subjects in portraits move—actually walk and talk—and they can move to each other’s portraits. Of course, I told you all about that when I was reading those books. But it’s so different, seeing them in person. Moving photographs like miniature televisions. Carriages pull themselves. I even read about the protective spells surrounding Hogwarts. Apparently, they’re nigh unbreakable.

Hermione tried to start a conversation with Lavender in class, but the girl angled herself away so that Hermione would have to tap her shoulder to talk to her. Even then Lavender said “What?” in such an irritated tone that Hermione recoiled.

“I don’t want your help with my potion, if that’s what you want,” Lavender said. “I’m not stupid, you know.” Lavender turned away.

Hermione hadn’t said anything of the sort, but it was nothing new to her.

And the potions and the spells! I’m mastering them quite quickly, and I suspect all of your cooking lessons came in handy, Dad. My Forgetfulness potion got an “O” which is supposed to be a very good score. Professor Flitwick had us practice levitation today. Do you remember when I was three and you found my stuffed cat on top of the garden wall? That’s how I must have done it. Today I executed the levitation charm perfectly and Professor Flitwick was very pleased. Gryffindor received some points.

“It’s Levi-OH-sa, not Levi-oh-SA,” Hermione found herself saying. Ron had been waving his wand wildly and she hadn’t been able to ignore the fact that his feather was smoking nearly as much as Seamus’s eyebrows.

It was a pity. Harry and Ron were the least rude to her, or they had been. She’d caught Harry glancing at her and then looking away quickly, and Ron had given her some vaguely curious stares lately before he, too, pretended he hadn’t been looking. But since the Charms class, Ron was glowering at her more than ever.

Most of the other first-years grew up around ghosts and poltergeists, so I suppose that’s why they’re a little more frightening to me than to the others. It’s hard to get used to translucent figures jumping out of walls. Don’t worry, though, they never do any serious damage.

Hermione sat at the Great Hall and ate her pudding while she read the last few pages of Hogwarts: A History. No one asked her to pass the treacle tart, though she would have done it willingly. The seats to her left and right were empty; she had started to accept that the bubble of space around her was permanent.

Peeves swooped out of the air and picked up a platter of chocolate ice cream. He swept down close to her ear. “I hate teacher’s pets,” he hissed. Cackling, he overturned the bowl over her head. She let out a small shriek as the cold, oozing dessert soaked into her hair and clothes.

“Look,” someone said. “Granger’s found some hair product that actually works.”

At home, remember how hard it was for me to make friends? I was always doing strange things, like turning the school bully’s hair green or making things break when they were obviously too large for my tiny hands. Well, apparently everyone here had those incidents when they were little. Everyone here is just like me, either a witch or a wizard. I looked forward to Hogwarts because even though I was different, I could be normal here. And I am normal. At Hogwarts, I am completely ordinary.

Nothing had changed since coming to Hogwarts. Nothing and everything. Hogwarts was a paradise, it really was. She was learning more than she could have ever dreamed of. Tapestries told jokes, food materialized out of nowhere, and the common room was full of comfortable chairs by the roaring fireplace. She was learning to move objects and transfigure things and brew antidotes…

Hermione went into the bathroom and slammed the stall door behind her. Sinking down onto the toilet seat, she pulled out her book and tried to focus on the detailed account of Dumbledore’s 1945 defeat of Grindelwald.

But nothing had changed since her Muggle days. She was still bushy-haired Hermione Granger. Know-it-all Hermione Granger. Unlovable and bookish Hermione Granger. She’d thought Muggle school was hard because her true friends had been waiting at Hogwarts. She’d been so sure she was on her way to becoming a great witch. She’d learned everything there was to learn about the history of wizards. She’d been looking forward to the moment, the glorious moment, when she would feel that sense of assimilation, of becoming part of this universe. When she would be as casual and comfortable here as the other first-years seemed to be with each other.

She must have skipped a step somewhere…

How are you? Has Timothy got his braces put in yet? Did you have to replace Mrs. Warren’s dentures after all?

What had she missed? She rolled the question through her head in the library as she sat hunched over a description and drawing of a giant squid. As she turned a page, she looked up to see two first year Ravenclaws enter the library. Every table except Hermione’s was full. They went to sit on the floor.

She was too freakish to be a Muggle, too freakish to be a witch. There was nothing wrong with Hogwarts. She was the problem.

I hope you’re doing alright. I’m having the time of my life here, I’d even dare say I know all of my classmates names now! Don’t worry about me.

The squid diagram was oddly blotchy. She blinked and realized that the page was soaked with tears. She forced down the sob rising in her throat. It’s okay. It’s okay. She didn’t need friends. She’d never needed them before, had she?

All this time, all I had to do was find the place where I belong. It’s going to be a great seven years, Mum and Dad. I’ll make you proud.

Love,

Hermione

My psychology teacher posted this article “ditch the laptop, dump your boyfriend” and I read it and now I’m sad.

edens-blog:

beben-eleben:

Jim Dingilian proves that a creative and skillful artist can create works of art with just about anything. By coating the interior of empty glass bottles with black smoke and then carefully brushing it away with tools mounted on dowels, he creates detailed and beautiful but dark works of smoke art that are dripping with a sense of suburban decay (via Bored Panda).

are you shitting me

flatbootyvevo:

my anaconda don’t want none unless ur gonna pay my college funds