Multifandom Fun
Supernatural, Stargate, Shameless, Sherlock, Doctor Who, Spartacus
and various others, with some Rugby thrown in because I'm a huge fan.
THIS IS A VERY IMPORTANT VIDEO PLEASE REBLOG
Shoutout to the problematic little elfs who need to get their shit together
Hey
Get your shit together 😊
(via impalagurl67)
fictional-worlds-are-exquisite:
stop showing me reversible plushies I will not be falling for the angry happy octopus I will NOT be doing that I will be responsible with my money in my current situation and NOT go for the octopus
reblog and put in the tags a medical fact about yourself (can be something you have or something unusual about yourself).
(via circuitdelasarthe)
reblog and put in the tags an artist you loved before they became famous
(via belalugosishreds)
This is incredible on many levels…
1. Holy hell I miss this man’s voice. This shows what an incredible orator he is.
2. His passion and anger are palpable and rightly so.
3. How in the ever-loving fuck is this still an issue 18 years down the line??
If you go to 18:15 on the video, you can listen to Bill Nye lecture the climate change deniers. Here’s what happened, from an excerpt from the story about this published by Upworthy (except I edited the text to remove the censoring of the profanity to add the profanity back, where it belongs):
Oliver had already brought in Nye earlier in the segment to explain carbon pricing, and he wrapped up the whole shebang by asking Nye to provide an “enjoyable, lighthearted demonstration” on the urgency of taking action on climate change.
“Safety glasses on,” began Nye. “By the end of this century, if emissions keep rising, the average temperature on Earth could go up another four to eight degrees.”
“What I’m saying is,” he continued, pointing at blow torch a globe, “the planet’s on fucking fire.”
Once he had the world going up in flames, Nye pointed to a blanket, a fire extinguisher, and a bucket of sand and explained, “There are a lot of things we could do to put it out. Are any of them free? No, of course not! Nothing’s free, you idiots! Grow the fuck up.”
“You’re not children anymore,” continued Nye. “I didn’t mind explaining photosynthesis to you when you were twelve. But you’re adults now, and this is an actual crisis. Got it?”
Nye then removed his eyewear. “Safety glasses off, motherfuckers.”
Just because one of your chicken eggs hatched a fire breathing dragon people think you’re evil. But you’re still just a regular farmer trying to make a living while dealing with an overprotective dragon, heroes that want to kill you and fanatics who want to worship you as the new Demon Lord.
The thing you need to know about all of this, the thing that got me into all this trouble in the first place, is that chickens will sit on anything when they get broody enough. Anything. Duck eggs, goose eggs, turkey eggs, lizard eggs, egg shaped rocks, anything. Chickens aren’t smart. If it looks vaguely like an egg, they’ll plant their feathery arses on it and wait.
I noticed that there was a bigger egg under one of the broody chickens, when I checked. Of course I noticed, it was twice the size of the others. But I have geese. I figured it was a goose egg she’d found and stolen. It was about the right size, and I didn’t take it out to check the colour because that particular chicken gets very protective of her eggs. I’ve already got a scar on one hand from trying to get eggs away from her. I didn’t want a matched set.
That was a decision I regretted the moment I went out to feed the chickens and found a little blue-and-silver dragonet’s head poking out from under a very confused-looking chicken. The poor thing kept shifting around and looking under herself in a bewildered way, like she didn’t know what to do next. This particular chicken is a good mother, and she’s raised clutches of ducks and geese without any trouble – she’s even resigned to some of her children swimming – but this was too much. She didn’t object when I carefully reached in and fished out the little dragon.
It was so tiny, then. It fitted in my hand, with its little head peeking out one side and its tail looping around my wrist. Cute, too, with its big eyes and little snout turned up towards me.
That was when I made my second mistake. I decided to feed it before releasing it. Dragons are innately wild creatures, everyone knows that. They can’t be tamed. People have tried. The eggs are abandoned as soon as they are laid, and the dragonets hatch able to hunt, so they don’t even bond with their mothers. So just feeding it a little shouldn’t have been a big deal. It should have gobbled the meat and fled as soon as I loosened my grip on it and it saw the open sky.
It didn’t. As soon as I’d fed it, it fluttered up to a sunny window ledge and went to sleep. I went about my work, figuring that it’d leave in its own time.
By noon, it was sitting on my boot, squeaking pathetically. I wondered if maybe it was confused by the farmyard – they usually hatch in mountains, if the stories are right – so I took it back to the farmhouse with me and fed it again when I ate, then took some time away from the fences I should have been mending to walk it up to the hills. I found it some nice rocks, with plenty of lizards and beetles and suitable prey for something that size. It pounced on a beetle almost as soon as I put it down, and when I left it was crunching happily.
I hadn’t walked a quarter of the way back before something hit the back of my boot. The little dragon was holding on with all four claws, and when I looked down it squeaked pathetically. If possible, its eyes got even rounder.
Listen, you don’t make it as a farmer if you just let orphaned baby animals die. We hand-raise calves and lambs and ponies, set chickens to sit on abandoned eggs, or put them under the kitchen stove or by a fireplace. You don’t make a success of farming if you don’t value every animal. A good shepherd will spend all night looking for one lost sheep. So despite what was said later, it wasn’t just sentiment that made me sigh and pick up the little thing and carry it back to the farm. I am a good farmer. I don’t let orphaned babies die just because they’re a little work.
(via dycefic)
what is your favorite type of cookie. not allowed to throw shade not allowed to be mean to each other just say what kinda cookie you like the most. this isn’t a competition just a conversation between friends there is no right answer
(via sense8-sonder)