My name's Lauren and welcome friends! I'm 18 and from MD, USA. Currently taken since September '11. I'm an English major with minors in Music and Drama and really want to pursue these once I graduate. Hopefully my dreams will come true!

So my blog is a mish-mash of fandoms and personal thoughts and sorry if that isn't your thing. I post a lot of Supernatural, Last Airbender, LoK, and things relating to my personal beliefs. My main OTPs are Dean/Cas, Mako/Korra, and Zuko/Katara. (But I ship so many more it's ridiculous)

Please don't be afraid to talk to me! Everyone's welcome! :)
  • hanging-up-my-cape:

    brolininthetardis:

    #this is a coffeeshop au screaming to be brought into existence #i don’t care what fandom or what pairing #someone write it #and send it to me

    Castiel could easily say that his brothers had finally lost it. It was normal for Gabriel and Balthazar to whistle at attractive men on the street, and then immediately point to Castiel as the source, but never have they taken it this far.

    Perpetually socially awkward, Castiel had no idea how to initiate a conversation with someone without scaring them away, so he had built the reputation of being withdrawn. That wasn’t true. Castiel loved being around people, and maybe he, no, he most definitely, not that he’d ever admit it, wanted a girlfriend… or boyfriend… or just a partner in general.

    The only people who knew this about Castiel were his maniac brothers, who did everything in their power to match Castiel up with someone. So, despite their little brother’s protests, they drew their new scheme on the special’s board at the coffeeshop where Castiel worked.

    He tried to complain to his manager, but Crowley thought it was an excellent idea, and applauded Gabriel and Balthazar. Crowley didn’t actually care if Castiel got a nice partner or not, he just wanted more money. Everyone but Castiel knew how attractive he was, and by “giving those young customers the hope for a coffeeshop romance,” they could have better business.

    So Castiel was dragged from his comfortable position of making drinks from behind the scenes, to being placed as barista for the day. In front of his register was the horrible board declaring

    'Today your barista is:

    1. Hella fucking gay

    2. Desperately single

    For your drink today I recommend:

    You give me your number.’

    Castiel was certain, by two hours into his shift, that if it wasn’t his perpetual need to smile warmly at every customer, then it was that damn board that earned him so much attention. Most of it was creepy or unwarranted. Men from all shapes and sizes either sneered in disgust, or tried blatantly to get into Castiel’s pants. Very few girls attempted to flirt with him.

    By the end of the day, Castiel was having a harder time keeping up a pleasant demeanor with all the overwhelming attention. His pocket was filled with at least thirteen crumpled papers of stranger’s numbers. Castiel wasn’t interested in any one of them, and was angry with his brothers and managers for forcing him into a position of playing with people’s emotions.

    Castiel was relieved when the rush eased, and by five in the afternoon it was just the occasional customer needing a pick-me-up, or the regulars who recognized and still interacted pleasantly with him.

    There was one regular, however, that had Castiel perking up to see.

    The scruffy, freckled, green-eyed beauty that Castiel had been admiring for so long came up to the counter, and then glanced down at the board.

    Castiel wanted to simultaneously hide under the counter, and also pray to every god that existed that maybe, just maybe, this would be the man to give him his number.

    But instead, after reading the board, the man could not make eye-contact with Castiel and stiffly ordered his coffee and pastry. After paying for and receiving his purchase, the man picked the far corner of the place to sit. Without even a single glance at Castiel, he pulled out a book and cut off the rest of the world.

    Castiel’s heart sank.

    Dean. Castiel read the name on the man’s cup of coffee. He wanted to come up with some excuse, go over to Dean’s table, maybe say he needed to clean something up… and then what? Apologize for the offensive board? Make a fool of himself trying to flirt? Inevitably scare Dean off and face Crowley’s wrath for losing a customer?

    As the other customers came in, Castiel’s smile wasn’t as genuine, and maybe the people noticed. Castiel didn’t receive any more numbers. He kept glancing over to Dean’s table though. The man was still nose deep in the book, but also looking very uncomfortable. Castiel felt humiliated and cruel, but he was too disappointed to find reason to be angry with his brothers.

    Finally, half an hour later, Dean got up to throw his trash away. Castiel watched him solemnly, expecting it to be the last time he would ever see the man.

    Dean stood by his table, his back to Castiel, for a seemingly horrible long time. But just when Castiel thought he was going to storm out of the shop, Dean turned and walked in straight line to Castiel’s register.

    ‘This is it,’ Castiel thought. ‘He’s going to tell me how disgusted he is by now, tell me he never wants to come back, never-‘

    Dean thrust something at Castiel. The green eyes were still looking anywhere but to Castiel, yet Castiel noticed for the first time the spreading blush across Dean’s face.

    Castiel hesitantly took the paper from Dean’s hand, and the second he had it, Dean turned about face and rushed out of the shop. He nearly tripped over a table in the process.

    His heart thumping a mile a minute, Castiel unrumpled the paper and looked at it.

    Hey, I think you look nice. Call me sometime. If you want.’ It said. Under the message and Dean’s signature was his number.

    The next day, Castiel called up Gabriel and Balthazar. He was very happy to announce to his brothers exactly why they didn’t need to whistle at men on the street anymore.

    He had a date with Dean Winchester that coming Saturday.

    (via winspookster)

  • endermisha:

    eyjoey:

    meijimie:

    jackie-the-artist:

    ultrafacts:

    set-phasers-to-gay:

    j-to-rule-the-world:

    ultrafacts:

    Source For more facts, Click HERE to follow Ultrafacts

    Well somebody finally gets it!

    Every school should be like mine: four hours a day, three time slots you can attend (morning at 8, afternoon at 12, evening at 5), online classes in case you miss a day, english and math direct instruction, bus stop close by, you can graduate early if you want, you can switch time slots if you need to, and they respect if you have a mental disorder/want to be addressed by a different name or by diff pronouns. You can listen to music, too, and everyone is super chill. Small classes where everyone minds their own business and gets their work done. That is how school should be.

    …. OR

    Heres an idea!

    Go to bed at a reasonable hour.

    Jfc our ancestors beat up bears and dinosaurs at the crack of dawn, and you lot are whining about “SCHOOLS UNFAIR  CHANGE LESSON TIMES”

    Alright buddy i’m gonna need you to sit the fuck down because i’m gonna lay some shit on you. I’m sure you had a great time in high school or college since you had the nerve to tell everybody to go to bed at a reasonable time. I don’t know if you’ve ever thought about it like this but maybe the reason why we don’t go to bed at a reasonable hour is because we can’t? WOW SHOCKING I KNOW. 

    Now I don’t know what high school was like for everyone else but for me it was fucking hell. During my senior year in high school i had over 3 hours worth of homework everyday. I get off school at 8 pm because of after school extra classes. I get home at around 9:30 and shower and it’s already 11. Well better do my homework if I want to pass this class!!! Time sure does fly when I do homework because wow it’s 3 am already. Time to finally sleep because wow humans need to sleep to have a healthy mind???? And then DING it’s 6am better wake up for school to start this routine all over again for the next 10 months. Over the span of my high school life I had over 10 emotional break downs and depression because of school. Shocking right? School can actually make some people sad and angry.

    How the fuck would you feel if you were crammed in a classroom with over 40 students learning the same thing except you couldn’t understand shit so you had to study extra hard and spend more time on your homework than everyone else? Terrible right. Not everybody breezed thru school like you did. 

    School is different for everybody and everybody’s stress levels are different. Some schools give a fuck ton of homework while some don’t. Some people had fun in school and some didn’t. And I don’t know if you’ve ever thought about it like this but some people actually work after school. Wow students making a living to support their family that’s fucking crazy I didn’t even know that was possible. And don’t even get me started on AP students.

    Jfc our ancestors beat up bears and dinosaurs at the crack of dawn,” Are you seriously comparing us to our ancestors which we had nothing to do with? WHO GIVES A SHIT. DID THEY HAVE OVER 8 HOURS OF SCHOOL? NO. DID THEY HAVE THE STRESS OF NOT KNOWING WHAT TO DO FOR YOUR FUTURE? PROBABLY. BUT IT DOESN’T CHANGE THE FACT THAT WE WORKED HARDER THAN THEM, WE HAVE A TOUGHER LIFE, ADULTS EXPECT US TO AMOUNT TO SOMETHING BUT WILL WE? WE DON’T KNOW. WE HAVE MORE STRESS ON OUR MINDS THAN A PSYCHOPATH WITH A MENTAL DISORDER. AND YET WE’RE STILL LIVING, BREATHING AND WORKING HARD SO SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT GOING TO BED AT A REASONABLE HOUR BECAUSE WE FUCKING CAN’T.

    HOLY SHIT THANK YOU
    thank you SO MUCH //applause

    ALSO DINOSAURS WERE LONG EXTINCT BEFORE HUMANS EXSISTED

    (via 3fandom5u)

  • thatstheriddle:

    sherokutakari:

    deanbelievesinwholockholmes:

    bennydict:

    EVERYONE who reblogs this will be insulted in Shakespearean fashion.

    I am so looking forward to this …

    I GOT MINE BEING INSULTED HAS MADE MY NIGHT

    EVERYONE

    SHES NOT JOKING

    (Source: misterdarcy, via 3fandom5u)

  • gohomeluhan:

    As I’m walking through Target with my little sister, the kid somehow manages to convince me to take a trip down the doll aisle. I know the type - brands that preach diversity through displays of nine different variations of white and maybe a black girl if you’re lucky enough. What I instead found as soon as I turned into the aisle were these two boxes.

    The girl on the left is Shola, an Afghani girl from Kabul with war-torn eyes. Her biography on the inside flap tells us that “her country has been at war since before she was born”, and all she has left of her family is her older sister. They’re part of a circus, the one source of light in their lives, and they read the Qur’an. She wears a hijab.

    The girl on the right is Nahji, a ten-year-old Indian girl from Assam, where “young girls are forced to work and get married at a very early age”. Nahji is smart, admirable, extremely studious. She teaches her fellow girls to believe in themselves. In the left side of her nose, as tradition mandates, she has a piercing. On her right hand is a henna tattoo.

    As a Pakistani girl growing up in post-9/11 America, this is so important to me. The closest thing we had to these back in my day were “customizable” American Girl dolls, who were very strictly white or black. My eyes are green, my hair was black, and my skin is brown, and I couldn’t find my reflection in any of those girls. Yet I settled, just like I settled for the terrorist jokes boys would throw at me, like I settled for the butchered pronunciations of names of mine and my friends’ countries. I settled for a white doll, who at least had my eyes if nothing else, and I named her Rabeea and loved her. But I still couldn’t completely connect to her.

    My little sister, who had been the one to push me down the aisle in the first place, stopped to stare with me at the girls. And then the words, “Maybe they can be my American Girls,” slipped out of her mouth. This young girl, barely represented in today’s society, finally found a doll that looks like her, that wears the weird headscarf that her grandma does and still manages to look beautiful.

    I turned the dolls’ boxes around and snapped a picture of the back of Nahji’s. There are more that I didn’t see in the store; a Belarusian, an Ethiopian, a Brazilian, a Laotian, a Native American, a Mexican. And more.

    These are Hearts 4 Hearts dolls, and while they haven’t yet reached all parts of the world (I think they have yet to come out with an East Asian girl), they need all the support they can get so we can have a beautiful doll for every beautiful young girl, so we can give them what our generation never had.

    Please don’t let this die. If you know a young girl, get her one. I know I’m buying Shola and Nahji for my little sister’s next birthday, because she needs a doll with beautiful brown skin like hers, a doll who wears a hijab like our older sister, a doll who wears real henna, not the blue shit white girls get at the beach.

    The Hearts 4 Hearts girls are so important. Don’t overlook them. Don’t underestimate them. These can be the future if we let them.

    You can read more about the dolls here: http://www.playmatestoys.com/brands/hearts-for-hearts-girls

    (via winspookster)

  • teenagesoil:

    I feel like I’m going to be that aunt who drinks vodka straight out of the bottle and ruins Christmas.

    (via strangeparkings)

  • yyuks:

    w0l0w1zard:

    fitandhealthyforlifee:

    friendlyneighborhoodcurmudgeon:

    Two MSU basketball players raped a woman in the dorms then one admitted to it. Their only consequence was that they had to move out of the dorms. This picture is of me and one other woman holding up this banner during Midnight Madness. Two other brave souls had a banner on the other side for a while before some jerk started playing tug or war with them over it. This was taken before we got booed at by 10,000 people and police escorted from the stadium. 

    How screwed up are people to boo at this? 

    Let’s keep reposting this. Rapists should be charged.

    how is sport more important than the lives of women?
    like honestly baffling

    (Source: goforthandagitate, via strangeparkings)

  • youcouldbefound:

    neoliberalismkills:

    "no one can love you until you love yourself"

    that is complete bullshit

    don’t let anyone tell you that you don’t deserve love from other people because you struggle with loving yourself

    THIS EVERYONE FUCKING READ THIS NOW.

    (Source: neoliberalismkills, via angelwolfshadows)

  • rainnecassidy:

    seravilohxela:

    shamelesslyunladylike:

    lesradicalfeminisms:

    tumbling-torterra:

    a-strawbarry:

    houseofheavy:

    etspiritusvitae:

    the female body is hardcore as fuck. 

    Yes is it.

    so is the male body

    it’s sad to see so many people like this on this website

    OP is praising the fact that women hold a fucking infant in their belly the size of a ribcage, get the fuck over yourself for 3.5 seconds.

    *~*~follow for more fragile male ego~*~*

    The male body is more susceptible to hereditary diseases because of their lack of a second X chromosome. Their testosterone production ages them faster and causes them to die sooner. Their center of gravity is higher because of their tiny little hips and overgrown shoulders, making them easier to topple. Their gonads are placed outside of the body, in a very vulnerable position, because they do not function properly if they get a little bit warmer than usual. They have non-functional nipples, but still enough breast tissue to get cancer.

    The male body is not hardcore. The male body is to the female body what a shoddy, unstable mod is to a well-estabilished piece of software. Sit the fuck down. And try to not crush your fragile pathetic outside gonads when you do it.

    ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

    pwnt

    (Source: deadlyart, via these-fries-are-mine)

  • heatherwanderer:

    the-goddamazon:

    musingsofanawkwardblackgirl:

    foreverpruned:

    black-american-queen:

    dapenguinninja:

    giddytf2:

    gyrojojo:

    leylatimur:

    yeeees

    why is Ursula shunned from King Triton’s society? does it have something to do with being more powerful than him? why does King Triton have a magical trident, being otherwise a pretty regular merman? Ursula is a witch, if anyone should have a magical artifact it should be her, did King Triton steal it?

    and finally, Ursula didn’t do Ariel much wrong

    Ariel wanted some legs (and a vagina) and Ursula told her flat out that in the surface world you can have a vagina or a voice, not both

    i’d watch the hell out of a movie about Ursula

    Ursula told her flat out that in the surface world you can have a vagina or a voice, not both”

    ohhhh shit though, ursula was being too real about the world

    although perhaps a bit too literal

    Okay, these were all excellent points and I’ll never see The Little Mermaid the same way again.

    I laughed at that caption at first then the reality actually hit me

    you can have a vagina or a voice, not both”

    Bruh… Little mermaid was deep.

    Ursula gave the game to Ariel:

    "The men up there don’t like a lot of blather.
    They think a girl who gossips is a boor.
    And on land it’s much preferred for ladies not to say a word,
    and she who holds her tongue gets a man.”

    ^^^

    Literally the whole song “Poor Unfortunate Souls” was Ursula asking Ariel if she was sure that was the kind of life she wanted. She told Ariel EXACTLY what to expect and exactly what would happen should she fail to uphold her end of the bargain. Ursula was 100% honest with her. Ariel STILL said yes because she was naive.

    And notice Eric wasn’t too distraught about Ariel not having a voice during their time together? After he got over the initial shock, he was like “Okay, cool, I’LL do all the talking and you just look pretty.”

    Can we get a whole line-up of movies about our villains, though? I really am more interested in their backstories than anything.

    I’ve always felt like the heroes of fairy tales are there for us as children, for the way we hope the world is. But the villains are there for us when we realize the way the world really is….because so many times, the villain isn’t the bad person….

    (Source: tybalt-tisk, via these-fries-are-mine)

  • cradily:

    drakeovograham:

    Do y’all know how fucking sad this makes me? leave people alone. This literally made me cry. FUCKING LEAVE PEOPLE ALONE?! I hate this world. Too fucked up, even for me

    you guys!!!!!!! this turned out to be a nice story for once!!!!! so many people were saying nice things about her that she ended up makin an instagram just to see them!!!

    (via joshpeck)