Sometimes They Leave But Not By Choice

nellwholock:

cleopatrasweave:

lyssissherlocked:

subliminal-mind-duck:

invisiblechickens:

are there even any houses in the usa which touch each other???

like in britain some houses are terraced or semi-detached

but in america they’re like “dON’t tOUch mE!”

I HAVE ALWAYS WONDERED WHAT BRITISH NEIGHBORHOODS LOOKED LIKE. THANK YOU.

Isn’t that like a major fire code violation? Like if one house catches on fire, POOF there goes the whole fucking street up in flames.

we never learn

tomfletcherscats:

i love when my preschoolers pretend to be talking on the phone bc if u leave them to their own devices and observe they just start saying things they’ve heard adults say into the phone like “hello i have an appointment, i’d like some rice”

just-shower-thoughts:

“Going all in” and “going all out” mean the same thing.

woodfae:

wait… if you have social anxiety… and i have social anxiety…

then who’s going to order the food?

just-shower-thoughts:

Dear fifth grade math teacher. I do in fact have a calculator where ever I go now thanks to my cell phone.

avocadamnit:

aphoenixinwriting:

mrsmarymorstan:

kyrael:

gallifreyfieldsforever:

I sincerely believe that by 7th year Ravenclaws would just tell the door to their common room to fuck off and it would open for them

Q “Why is a raven like a writing desk?” 
A “You shouldn’t shove either up your arse.” 
“…Technically, yes.”

Imagine it, a poor First Year is waiting outside the common room, they can’t answer the riddle in a way to appease the eagle and must wait until someone else to answer it for them. It’s getting late, they’re starting to resign themselves to having to spend the night here. 

Suddenly, their saviour comes! It’s a seventh year! Back from a night finishing off their Araithmancy essay in the Library. They look angry, but our poor little first year squares their shoulders, waiting to see what will happen, and hope that they’ll keep the door open for them. 

The Seventh Year bangs the handle against the wall, and a slightly disgruntled voice asks the question again: “What is the truth?”

The Student Replies, “The Truth is that I am so fucking sick of all these mother fucking questions about stupid fucking topics like this you bloody fuck-witted bastard. Who in the name of Merlin’s saggy left testicle gives a fucking damn about all this shit anyway? I’ve been working my arse off in the library for the last seven hours now let me the fuck in or, truthfully, I’ll blast my way in and take you with me.”

The eagle knocker tutts, but allows the student entry anyway, and our little first year enters, eyes wide and in shock. They watch the seventh year go up to their bedroom, awe all over their face at their new hero. They did, indeed, learn something that day by waiting for someone to arrive, they learnt that swearing has a magic all of it’s fucking own, and that sometimes it is big and clever to use it. 

The only head canon I will ever accept. Its both perfectly witty and fantastically assholish

witty and fantastically assholish… pretty much quintessential ravenclaw traits right there