Separation is deteriorating…
Remus Arthur Potter, you were named after two men who looked out for my safety and cared about my well-being out of altruism and decency rather than because I was a tool for them to use or because I was someone’s son.
if you ever think a tv show is doing something completely weird, you should know that Glee once had a teenage girl giving birth to the music of Bohemian Rhapsody, cross cutting the scene with a showchoir of teenagers performing the song at the standard of experienced professionals.
Like fiery eyeball thing, no problem. But don’t even try to imagine a Samoan elf. (x)
Being friends with me consists of me sending you bad jokes at 2:47 in the morning
listen up you motherfucker
it’s the scottish independence referendum tomorrow
or as i like to call it
the great british break off
so you’re telling me there’s an alien who regenerates into a completely random form, that he cannot control or determine himself, and who understandably could take millions of different appearances, but who all 13 times just turned into a different skinny white guy
What? My boobs are great.
See? Perfectly fine.
I mean, yeah, they jiggle and wobble and don’t sit high up on my chest. But that’s normal.
Like what do you think I should do about it? I mean
My boobs just do normal boob things. They’re A-okay normal healthy boobs.
Moral: Boobs are really diverse. Do your boobs sag? Normal. Do they have hair? Normal. Do they have stretch marks? Normal. Do you get pimples on them? Normal. Are they different sizes? Normal. Big nipples? Normal. Puffy dark areola? Normal. Not facing dead ahead? Normal. Small? Normal. Big? Normal. Normal Normal Normal.
And they’re your boobs. If you can change any of those things and you want to, go ahead!
But don’t let people tell you that your breasts are wrong just because they’re affected by gravity.
You’re fine. They’re fine.