who's your fandom?
haridraws:

Galadriel for this challenge.

They were clad wholly in white; and the hair of the Lady was of deep gold… but no sign of age was upon them, unless it were in the depths of their eyes; for these were keen as lances in the starlight, and yet profound, the wells of deep memory.

haridraws:

Galadriel for this challenge.

They were clad wholly in white; and the hair of the Lady was of deep gold… but no sign of age was upon them, unless it were in the depths of their eyes; for these were keen as lances in the starlight, and yet profound, the wells of deep memory.

sirdef:

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agentvictoriahand replied to your post: anonymous said:multiples of 8!!oh…

you collect boxes i cannot believe how precious is that

i forgot to reply to this omg i’m so sorry

YES YES I DO AND I LOVE IT (again esp l’occitane boxes because they change them for holidays/seasons and it’s amazing)

not only are boxes places to store things (like more boxes) YOU CAN ALSO REUSE THEM WHEN GIVING FRIENDS GIFTS

edit:

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wanderingarmpits:

charminglyantiquated:

a little love story about mermaids and tattoos

I love your tags hahahaha you’re such a cutie

sandralvv:

When I was a teenager, there was a cartoon that I loved and marked me forever. When I first saw two women together, I was surprised. It was something I had never seen… and I wanted it to be real. And it was.

   Haruka and Michiru were the first lesbian couple I saw in my life (or the first I can remember). And since then, more than 15 years ago, they became my absolute favourite pairing of all times.

   Now, when I see Korra and Asami on screen, I can’t help but to feel nostalgic. I can’t help but to pray that these two end up together. Why? Because I long for young girls, confused and isolated, to understand that it’s okay to feel those kind of feelings for other girls, for them to know they are not the only ones craving for the world to accept them, and to know that you’ll find that special person you’ll be willing to fight for… no matter what anyone else says.

nivalingreenhow:

when McGonagall finds out that Ginny is pregnant, and that the Weasley and Potter bloodlines will converge, she marks on her calender the day the child will turn 11 and that is the day she retires 

sirdef:

yearsoflivingdangerously:

This comic was produced in partnership by Years of Living Dangerously and Symbolia Magazine. For more amazing real life comics, get Symbolia on your iPad or via PDF. And for more information on the biggest story of our time - check out YEARS.

Green Muslims website.

bemusedlybespectacled:

do you ever think about the judges for the triwizard tournament trying to figure out who to kidnap for the second task

like they’re all just sitting in dumbledore’s office and karkaroff goes “well word on the street says that krum has a crush on that granger girl”

"damn," says dumbledore, "I wanted harry to rescue her. well, what about the delightful miss chang?"

"no," says bagman, "we’ve got her down for diggory"

"stop sinking my ships," says dumbledore

comicsalliance:

NOSTALGIA AS A WEAPON: THE SAILOR MOON RENAISSANCE IS A FEMINIST MISSION BEHIND THE LINES OF POP CULTURE
By Juliet Kahn
Sailor Moon did not enter my life so much as consume it. I was eight, and in the space of a few weeks I learned all the attack names, bought the first two issues of the manga, went through three different understandings of how to pronounce “Takeuchi”, and developed a tiered list of my favorite characters.
I spent hours spelunking the MIDI-laden cave that was Geocities, learning the language of dub-versus-sub wars, exploring webrings, indulging in awful pidgin Japanese, and realizing that I was not actually the only person in the world that loved this show. I filled the drawer of my nightstand with printouts of art book pages (I never did anything with them, but they were the most beautiful things I had ever seen and I needed to possess them somehow). I scraped up a special outfit — a white turtleneck and blue pleated skirt, with my hair in pigtails — just to wear while watching the show.
Opinions crowded my head, the first ones I’d ever really developed on my own: on translation choices, best and worst story arcs, ideal romantic pairings. I didn’t just write Sailor Moon fanfiction — I wrote Sailor Moon poetry. It was, by far, the most vivid and vital part of those last few playground years.
Today, Sailor Moon is inescapable. There’s the new anime of course, and the new musicals, the merchandise, and the retranslation of the manga. But it’s the emblem of a wider renaissance as well, a resurgence of love for mahou shoujo, or magical girl anime and manga — a movement led by women well out of their childhood years.
A quick stroll through Tumblr reveals Sailor Moon cupcakes, punky Sailor Moon jackets, heartfelt essays about what the portrayal of lesbianism in Sailor Moon meant to the reader, dozens of artists working together to reanimate an episode of the anime, Sailor Moon nail art tutorials, cats named Luna, Beryl, Haruka and everything in between, hand-sculpted figurines, ornate embroidery projects, and an endless avalanche of fanart. Sailor Moon as an Adventure Time character. Sailor Moon cheekily clutching a Hitachi Magic Wand. Sailor Moon as a vicious biker chick. Sailor Moon protesting the Supreme Court’s Hobby Lobby ruling.
Sailor Moon fans have not so much rediscovered their love for Naoko Takeuchi’s sword-and-sparkle epic as they have elected her queen mother of their imaginations and ultimate aspirational self. She is, simultaneously, symbol, cause, and leader.
READ MORE

comicsalliance:

NOSTALGIA AS A WEAPON: THE SAILOR MOON RENAISSANCE IS A FEMINIST MISSION BEHIND THE LINES OF POP CULTURE

By Juliet Kahn

Sailor Moon did not enter my life so much as consume it. I was eight, and in the space of a few weeks I learned all the attack names, bought the first two issues of the manga, went through three different understandings of how to pronounce “Takeuchi”, and developed a tiered list of my favorite characters.

I spent hours spelunking the MIDI-laden cave that was Geocities, learning the language of dub-versus-sub wars, exploring webrings, indulging in awful pidgin Japanese, and realizing that I was not actually the only person in the world that loved this show. I filled the drawer of my nightstand with printouts of art book pages (I never did anything with them, but they were the most beautiful things I had ever seen and I needed to possess them somehow). I scraped up a special outfit — a white turtleneck and blue pleated skirt, with my hair in pigtails — just to wear while watching the show.

Opinions crowded my head, the first ones I’d ever really developed on my own: on translation choices, best and worst story arcs, ideal romantic pairings. I didn’t just write Sailor Moon fanfiction — I wrote Sailor Moon poetry. It was, by far, the most vivid and vital part of those last few playground years.

Today, Sailor Moon is inescapable. There’s the new anime of course, and the new musicals, the merchandise, and the retranslation of the manga. But it’s the emblem of a wider renaissance as well, a resurgence of love for mahou shoujo, or magical girl anime and manga — a movement led by women well out of their childhood years.

A quick stroll through Tumblr reveals Sailor Moon cupcakes, punky Sailor Moon jackets, heartfelt essays about what the portrayal of lesbianism in Sailor Moon meant to the reader, dozens of artists working together to reanimate an episode of the anime, Sailor Moon nail art tutorials, cats named Luna, Beryl, Haruka and everything in between, hand-sculpted figurines, ornate embroidery projects, and an endless avalanche of fanart. Sailor Moon as an Adventure Time character. Sailor Moon cheekily clutching a Hitachi Magic Wand. Sailor Moon as a vicious biker chick. Sailor Moon protesting the Supreme Court’s Hobby Lobby ruling.

Sailor Moon fans have not so much rediscovered their love for Naoko Takeuchi’s sword-and-sparkle epic as they have elected her queen mother of their imaginations and ultimate aspirational self. She is, simultaneously, symbol, cause, and leader.

READ MORE

There’s no point to a guy yelling, “Hey sexy baby” at me out of the passenger window of a car as it speeds past. Even if I was into creepy misogynists and wanted to give him my number, I couldn’t. The car didn’t even slow down. But that’s okay, because he wasn’t actually hitting on me. The point wasn’t to proposition me or chat me up. The only point was to remind me, and all women, that our bodies are his to stare at, assess, comment on, even touch. “Hey sexy baby” is the first part of a sentence that finishes, “this is your daily message from the patriarchy, reminding you that your body is public property”.