Bleakwater Puffball

Ponies, long distance relationships, writing, asexuality and other queerishness, questioning, adorable significant other, the indescribable sounds you can make when talking to a puppy, teenage mutant ninja angels turtles, awkward self expression, and tea. If you share any of my interests, please come converse!

Mar 29
madlydrawsbonkers:

I gave this ridiculousness like two whole effort. 

You’ve got to stop making me reblog shit from movies I haven’t even seen.

madlydrawsbonkers:

I gave this ridiculousness like two whole effort. 

You’ve got to stop making me reblog shit from movies I haven’t even seen.


Mar 9

mister-mummy:

i love you. you made a mistake? i dont care i love you. you made a wrong choice? love you. you don’t think you’re good for anything? guess what you’re good for loving i love you

(via gunpowderyblacksmith)


Feb 28
livesandliesofwizards:

The Muggle Studies classroom is always locked. In fact, there are few rooms in the castle with as much magical protection. There’s a special password needed to enter that’s distributed carefully to the year’s students on the first day of classes. They are sworn to secrecy and, to date, no one has broken that trust.
There’s more to this security than just fear of vandalism, though there has been that. Charity Burbage spent more than her fair share of time scrubbing nasty messages off her office door when she first started teaching. For a while it was a point of pride that she used her own effort to remove the hateful words. Then came the morning when she fell asleep next to a bucket of soapy water and was nearly late for her first lesson of the day. After that, she cast a Repelling Charm on her office and tried not to feel guilty about it.
The real reason for the layers of charms wrapped around the classroom is what goes on after hours.  If you were to stroll by on any given night. you may see a tearful first year or a stressed out fifth year or even a cool and confident prefect strolling up to the door.  You’d see them execute a complex set of wand patterns, whisper a word, and look around furtively before they enter. 
If you were to follow them in (and I would not suggest this, for the room has its own way of dealing with intruders), you’d see students of all Houses and years, talking and studying and reading. But you may miss what they have in common: they’re all Muggle born. This classroom is the after-hours refuge of those who feel as if they don’t belong, those who find themselves trapped between the magical and the mundane, their parents and their classmates. Here there are shelves of magazines whose covers don’t move; there are stacks of textbooks on science and math, heavy tomes of Shakespeare and thin volumes of poetry.
In the corner you may see Justin Finch-Fletchley studying for his A-levels. He had promised his mum that he would at least try for them, even if he wasn’t sure he would ever leave the magical world. Sometimes Hermione Granger joins him, and they teach each other calculus and world history and pore over the periodic table. 
By the fireplace you could find that tearful first year sitting with the calm prefect, their heads bent close. You might hear the first year pour out his heart, outline his fears, confess his insecurities. The prefect could respond in kind, admitting to the knot of confusion that lies underneath her placid exterior. They might then take out their wands and practice a spell, or pull out a child’s fairy tale collection and read aloud.
If you were a Muggle-born, this might be your sanctuary. It might be the place you miss most when you go home for the summer and try to fit your square peg into a world of round holes. It might be what you defend at the Battle of Hogwarts, fighting for your right to be confused and not fit in. It might be why you come back as the new Muggle Studies professor, why you create an after-hours class to help others get their A-levels and apply to university.
But then again, it might be just another classroom.
(written and submitted by the lovely ppyajunebug. There’s a tremendous sweetness to this that I find very appealing, something comforting about knowing that the Muggle-borns have their own space. This blog often explores the horrifying and strange, but sometimes it’s nice to consider good things, as well.)  

livesandliesofwizards:

The Muggle Studies classroom is always locked. In fact, there are few rooms in the castle with as much magical protection. There’s a special password needed to enter that’s distributed carefully to the year’s students on the first day of classes. They are sworn to secrecy and, to date, no one has broken that trust.

There’s more to this security than just fear of vandalism, though there has been that. Charity Burbage spent more than her fair share of time scrubbing nasty messages off her office door when she first started teaching. For a while it was a point of pride that she used her own effort to remove the hateful words. Then came the morning when she fell asleep next to a bucket of soapy water and was nearly late for her first lesson of the day. After that, she cast a Repelling Charm on her office and tried not to feel guilty about it.

The real reason for the layers of charms wrapped around the classroom is what goes on after hours.  If you were to stroll by on any given night. you may see a tearful first year or a stressed out fifth year or even a cool and confident prefect strolling up to the door.  You’d see them execute a complex set of wand patterns, whisper a word, and look around furtively before they enter. 

If you were to follow them in (and I would not suggest this, for the room has its own way of dealing with intruders), you’d see students of all Houses and years, talking and studying and reading. But you may miss what they have in common: they’re all Muggle born. This classroom is the after-hours refuge of those who feel as if they don’t belong, those who find themselves trapped between the magical and the mundane, their parents and their classmates. Here there are shelves of magazines whose covers don’t move; there are stacks of textbooks on science and math, heavy tomes of Shakespeare and thin volumes of poetry.

In the corner you may see Justin Finch-Fletchley studying for his A-levels. He had promised his mum that he would at least try for them, even if he wasn’t sure he would ever leave the magical world. Sometimes Hermione Granger joins him, and they teach each other calculus and world history and pore over the periodic table. 

By the fireplace you could find that tearful first year sitting with the calm prefect, their heads bent close. You might hear the first year pour out his heart, outline his fears, confess his insecurities. The prefect could respond in kind, admitting to the knot of confusion that lies underneath her placid exterior. They might then take out their wands and practice a spell, or pull out a child’s fairy tale collection and read aloud.

If you were a Muggle-born, this might be your sanctuary. It might be the place you miss most when you go home for the summer and try to fit your square peg into a world of round holes. It might be what you defend at the Battle of Hogwarts, fighting for your right to be confused and not fit in. It might be why you come back as the new Muggle Studies professor, why you create an after-hours class to help others get their A-levels and apply to university.

But then again, it might be just another classroom.

(written and submitted by the lovely ppyajunebug. There’s a tremendous sweetness to this that I find very appealing, something comforting about knowing that the Muggle-borns have their own space. This blog often explores the horrifying and strange, but sometimes it’s nice to consider good things, as well.)  

(via gunpowderyblacksmith)


Feb 27

therpgminx:

Want to see my hands? Minx has an actual body? Watch this.

My favourite let’s player and her long distance fianceé playing jenga and giving me all these feels.


Jan 28

voidethered:

ask-omnipony:

luckydreaming:

Are fedoras really that bad?

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YES YES THEY ARE

I don’t really believe this mumbo jumbo

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I mean it’s a goddamn hat.

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Right..?

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The white rose, it symbolizes the unique beauty of all the women who wish not to be with a nice guy such as myse-

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I wonder if this works with other kinds of hat…

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Nothing ventured, nothing gained…

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WHEEEN THE MOON HITS YOUR EYE LIKE A BIG PIZZA PIE THAT’S AMORREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

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(via gunpowderyblacksmith)


Oct 22
madlygoesbonkers:

sehruh:

robcoindustries:

this is art. this is a work. of contemporary art. being exhibited at the los angeles museum of contemporary art. the title is “long haired cheese”. this is art. i couldn’t make this shit up if i tried.

IM FUCKING FAILING STUDIO ART AND THIS IS IN A FUCKING MUSEUM

Okay guys story time. So on my first ever date with my now-girlfriend, we went to my local art museum. Every few months they bring in a new themed exhibit or two, as is the custom with art museums, and this time it was some sort of bizarre contemporary art thing. We went to see the exhibit only a day or two after it arrived and it was still being set up, so there were lots of tools and other odds and ends lying around. In one corner in particular there was a two-by-four hunk of wood about six feet long. I thought it was just another part of the gallery construction, but as we walked closer I saw that little exhibit card pinned to the wall. The title of the piece was something along the lines of “The Acsension Of Man, Part One”. It was part of the exhibit. It was a piece of fucking wood. Nailed to the fucking floor. I am still angry about this. It’s been almost two years.

And I can still get you to scream and flail by just whispering “the plank of wood in the art museum” hahaha best date ever

madlygoesbonkers:

sehruh:

robcoindustries:

this is art. this is a work. of contemporary art. being exhibited at the los angeles museum of contemporary art. the title is “long haired cheese”. this is art. i couldn’t make this shit up if i tried.

IM FUCKING FAILING STUDIO ART AND THIS IS IN A FUCKING MUSEUM

Okay guys story time. So on my first ever date with my now-girlfriend, we went to my local art museum. Every few months they bring in a new themed exhibit or two, as is the custom with art museums, and this time it was some sort of bizarre contemporary art thing. We went to see the exhibit only a day or two after it arrived and it was still being set up, so there were lots of tools and other odds and ends lying around. In one corner in particular there was a two-by-four hunk of wood about six feet long. I thought it was just another part of the gallery construction, but as we walked closer I saw that little exhibit card pinned to the wall. The title of the piece was something along the lines of “The Acsension Of Man, Part One”. It was part of the exhibit. It was a piece of fucking wood. Nailed to the fucking floor. I am still angry about this. It’s been almost two years.

And I can still get you to scream and flail by just whispering “the plank of wood in the art museum” hahaha best date ever

(via gunpowderyblacksmith)


Oct 8

Personal random rambling about Maddyfriend and amazingness.

Maddy is the person I want to share my life with. All of my life. Not just a part of it, some specific part that most people only know - not just the part of my life that is happy, or the part that doesn’t know what to do, or the part that is scared, or… not just any part. I want to share all of my life with Maddy because I love them, because they give me things that help me tie all these different parts of my life together, so that it’s easier for me to be *me*.
Maddy helps me be me. That’s something big that they’ve made me feel right from the start, from the first moments back when we started getting to know each other. They made me feel like I was welcome. I have never been as welcome anywhere or to anyone else as I feel I am welcome to Maddy. They give me the amazing and strange sensation of being where I fit well just the way I am comfortable… it’s hard to explain… but it’s big and whole and I don’t understand how it works, how a person can make such a difference - maybe it’s love, because I know I love them and I know they love me, and one thing Maddy has taught me is to take a break in asking “Why?” all the time and just be and feel instead, so I’m not trying to explain things here. Maddy makes it easy and comfortable to be me, simply put. Maddy gives me the feeling that my existence in the world is a welcome and wanted thing. It feels good and different.
Maddy makes good omelettes, and Maddy taught me how to play Cribbage, and Maddy is nice about playing it with me even though I’m not all that good yet. Maddy has helped me learn so many things I can’t count them, and even more importantly, Maddy makes me less scared of learning. Less scared of many things, really, but learning is one of the most important ones, and since learning and the ability to learn gives me all kinds of good things such as hope and courage and pride, and since Maddy is so kind and good about learning, this entire thing is full of goodness.
Maddy is there for me when I need them, even when I need them very much and take a lot of work. They’re there for me even when I’m not good company at all and when all the fun and comfort is very far away.
Maddy believes in things that I wouldn’t think were even possible, and with Maddy’s help, I have seen amazing things happen that I didn’t know how to believe in. And seeing this, and learning this, I have also started to believe in things more bravely - things, including myself. Maddy is the one person who I feel safe to go to with my doubts and fears, trusting that they will not put me down but encourage me and help me find hope. And, Maddy is also the one person who I can show my joy and excitement without the slightest fear of judgement, feeling that they will be happy for my happiness and that they often know how to share it. There is such purity of feeling in the world of Maddy. This way, Maddy gives me the feeling of freshness and honesty, a sensation that I think only can be felt in the absence of fear. And Maddy is the mighty fear vaccuum of my universe.
Maddy is safety.
Maddy is kind, and funny, and smart, and fills my life with kindness and fun and understanding. They have taught me silly things and important things, and even more importantly, they give me such a lovely feeling of acceptance that I start learning things on my own, too, without even trying. Most of the helpful things I know about health, I have learned from Maddy. Most of the good things I know about myself, I have learned from Maddy. They not only make it easier for me to be me, but also give me many feelings that it is *good* to be me.
Maddy has taught me to appreciate things I didn’t appreciate before, about the world and myself and others around me. Maddy has shown me how people are beautiful and how sometimes ice cream makes excellent breakfast. Also, Maddy has taught me to be more honest about the things I don’t want in my life, and by treating me well and with kindness, they have also helped me learn to recognise how I don’t want to be treated, and to stand up for myself when I need to.
All of these are precious things, and having them in my life has made a world of difference. It would’ve taken me an awfully long time to learn even half of these things without Maddy, and some of them I would probably not have learned at all.
Saying things like these is scary, but Maddy is a person who makes me feel safe about it.
Maddy inspires me! Not only to write or to draw - many things inspire me to do those. But Maddy inspires me also to hope, and to speak, and to love, and those are such powerful things it feels like they are pouring new energy and health into me.

To be continued.


yosssarian:

magicbuffet:

eatimitationcrab:

Scientists Discover One Of The Greatest Contributing Factors To Happiness — You’ll Thank Me Later

I seriously teared up and then sat for a moment and thought about the person in my life who has made a difference and who I’d like to thank.

Try it yourself.

this made me cry gdssaaaahhdjjh

i cried i cried i cried i cant believe i cried

(via gunpowderyblacksmith)


Apr 25
MINI SHORTS DUDE
NOW

MINI SHORTS DUDE

NOW


Apr 9

featheredfriend:

A Rosebud Trimmed with Hazelnut. A reading by featheredfriend.

Sorry! I’m not used to reading things. I probably mispronounced a lot and stumbled. I edited the pitch of my voice by about 2% just to give me some semblance of anonymity. I tried to read it with all of its errors and very very strange italicised/underlined/bolded words.

Background: We sat around a fire and collectively wrote the WORST Destiel fic we could and then posted it on FF.net without stating that it was a crack!fic to see what kind of reviews it will get.

Pshhhhahahahaha

I was not ready for this.


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