geek in the pink

LiveJournal. AO3. Twitter.

Evy: Midtwenties. Chicagoan. 7 parts fandom, 2 parts random, and a dash of fic, gifs, and meta. WIP.

Personality: INTJ. Type 3. Libra. Tiger. Ravenclaw.

Fandoms: Harry Potter. Teen Wolf. Doctor Who. Sherlock. Game of Thrones. Elementary. NHL Hockey. Chicago Blackhawks. Hogwarts is Home. Disney. The Hunger Games. Marvel. Swimming anime.

Faces: Emma Stone. Kat Dennings. Lucy Liu. Karen Gillan. Natalie Dormer. Ryan Gosling. Cillian Murphy. Gale Harold. Andrew Garfield. Alex Pettyfer. Boyd Holbrook. Tyler Hoechlin. Freddie Stroma. Richard Madden. Kris Versteeg. Stupid high school swimmers.

callieohpeee:

when i was around 5 i asked my mom why “some people were different colors” and she said “because god wanted lots of flavors” and let me tell you that was the wrong thing to say because for the next 3 years i thought god ate people when they died

(via bronzedragon)

Sansa is your sister. You may be as different as the sun and the moon, but the same blood flows through both your hearts. You need her, as she needs you…

(via bronzedragon)

lesfrites:

He missed…

They make bad decisions most of the time.

(via swimclubboys)

Emma filming on August 2, 2014

  • rin: man sousuke... im so sad about what happened with haru... i just need a good shoulder to cry on..
  • sousuke: yeah about that
Holy shit Haru
Entire Free! Fandom right now (via choicekitty)

(via kendr1379)

(via antheia)

Karen Gillan for Scotland on Sunday’s Spectrum Magazine (07/26/14)

(via the1001cranes)

Her true name was Chang Mo Chou, but her father’s broken English and a typist’s mistake on her Hogwarts’ registration form tore away her old name and replaced it with a new label. She didn’t mind. She was used to being labeled and re-labeled, floating like a feather upon the winds of Western whims. Her skin was no longer moon-light pale, as her mother had praised in the nursery, it was the yellow of old parchment and early spring blossoms. Respecting authority and keeping quiet was no longer a sign of good breeding (how many times had her mother told her that children should keep open ears and silent tongues?) - somehow, in English, her behavior translated into painful shyness and introversion. Tea was drunk cold as tap water, masked by shades of milk and sugar and the electric zing of lemon. Words melted from labours of art into cold formulas, each element carefully measured and lined up behind the one before. 

Like the world around her, she too was simplified for Western consumption. First name, Cho, middle name, Mo, last name, Chang. Cho Chang. Cho didn’t mind. The words sounded like bells, ringing in the quiet distance. So would she live, ringing quietly and steadily, waiting for someone to hear her music in the wind. But not silver bells, Cho whispers to herself, a bronze ling, reciting the poem of her complex existence.

(via thepostmodernpottercompendium)