Here’s the thing about being pro choice that people don’t get…
You don’t have to morally agree with abortion to be pro choice. That’s why it’s not called pro abortion. It’s an understanding that you can’t make that choice for someone else and they have full control over that not you. It’s pro I’m not the boss of everyone else.
This is important.
I love Lupita Nyongo’s Brother
because he literally did
exactly what we would do
if we went to the Oscars
except he did it 220022932 times better.
doctor who is such a deceptive fandom like at first you just think there’s 7 seasons no big. but then there are two spinoffs. then there’s 700 episodes of classic who. then there’s the audio dramas. and they have many, many spinoffs. then there’s the books. and don’t forget the comics. and then there’s gallifreyan history and wow my friend if you think you know anything about doctor who you are wrong.
the doctor who fandom is bigger on the inside
"This show, born of a friendship and a marriage, has always worked that way. So why resist it. You might think we’re keeping the circle tight and it’s all a bit nepotistic. You’re bloody well right! People say there’s a problem with nepotism in television, but we have no problem with it whatsoever." - Steven Moffat - itunes ‘Meet the Filmaker’ Feb 2, 2014 (x)
It’s so cute the way Hermione is trying to make friends in this scene. And even sad because she’s ignored twice.
Actually what I love about this is she’s looking at an older student’s work. And I think that’s a Slytherin girl? Yeah it is. (props for whoever put that Slytherin and Gryffindor study session together, btw.) anyway what I love is she’s kind of going around to different kinds of kids. Older Slytherin girl, the Gryffindor boys. How much do you want to bet she was following Ravenclaws around before this? Or trying to make friends with the Patils, or other Gryffindor girls?
Hermione’s the most like any of us than Harry or Ron, I think. She’s the book-girl, the one who probably spent the majority of her childhood sitting in a corner reading while the rest of the class was busy socializing. She probably felt like all of us have felt at some point- like they were different, like they didn’t belong; and then WHOA! Lo and behold, turns out she IS different! She’s a Witch! She’s special, she’s got magic, and she’s going to a place where she’s like everyone else! We all dreamed about it, we all WANTED that, we all wanted to go away to a place where we were a part of something that made sense, a place that we fit- and then she still can’t make friends. And maybe she looks at the red and gold tie and wonders if the Hat put her in the wrong place. Like maybe that Lion on her chest should be an Eagle. She knows she’s the brainiac, she knows it, she says it- Books, cleverness. What must it be like to get what you dreamed of- that you are special and have a place you belong- and then to believe you were put in the wrong place once you got there?
I mean we know, in the end, Hermione’s a Gryffindor. She embodies the strong, brave, brilliant witch that gives pride to the house- but nobody starts out the way they end up. Until Halloween of that first year, she was a lonely little girl with books. Everyone saw her as the bossy, opinionated, know-it-all when I think really she was just trying to bond with people the only way she knew how. With facts, and people see it as being rude when she’s just ridiculous honest and is too young to know how to channel that honesty in a constructive way.
God I don’t even know if I ever had a point with this but FUCK I love Hermione.
Wow okay you win.
At twilight on August the 25th 1999, one week before classes were to begin, Hermione Granger Apparated into Hogsmeade, a wand box clutched under her arm.
Headmistress McGonagall was waiting for her outside the Three Broomsticks. The two women greeted each other warmly, and then set off towards the castle. Or rather, towards the grounds outside the castle.
They chatted amiably as they strolled towards the groundskeeper’s hut. Hagrid, sitting outside and darning a pair of enormous socks, looked up as they approached.
“Good evenin’ Headmistress, Hermione,” he said with some gruff surprise.
“Good evening, Hagrid,” replied McGonagall. “May we go inside? I believe Hermione has a proposition to discuss with you.”
If you had stood outside the hut as the evening darkened and the stars rose into the sky, you’d have heard the rumblings of an argument coming from inside the hut. You’d have heard Hagrid’s gruff refusals, Hermione’s calm (and then not so calm) rebuttals, and the very occasional interjection of the Headmistress.
Hermione did not emerge until the moon had fully risen and darkness enveloped the grounds. But in the light of the nearly full moon, you could see a smile on her face.
The Shrieking Shack was no longer widely believed to be haunted, now that the story of Remus Lupin was fully known. Still, the residents of Hogsmeade and Hogwarts avoided it out of a mixture of respect and residual fear.
This suited Hermione perfectly. The interior of the Shack was now stacked with books and bottles of potion ingredients. A cauldron sat in the corner, a telescope pointed out a cracked window, and cushions lined one wall. A table was covered in parchment, broken quills, ink pots and stains. Once a week, Hermione would apparate into the Shack and go over her notes from the previous session while she awaited her student’s arrival.
Sometimes he was late without explanation. Sometimes he would bring a wounded bowtruckle he wasn’t comfortable leaving on its own. Sometimes Fang would follow him and sit in the corner whining while his master sweated and cursed over a cauldron. Hermione was calm but firm, making adjustments as needed and letting Hagrid’s frustrated words roll off her back like water droplets.
The Hogsmeade residents may have turned a blind eye to the goings-on in the Shrieking Shack, but that didn’t mean they weren’t relieved as time went on and there were fewer and fewer roars of anger echoing through the village.
The OWL testers had been warned in advance that they would have an unusual student that year. That didn’t mean they weren’t taken aback when Rubeus Hagrid appeared on their testing scrolls. They all knew of him of course, knew the role he played in the Second War and of the false accusations leveled against him.
They were worried they would have to be kind.
They needn’t have. No one could have Hermione Granger teach them personally for a year and not improve in all aspects. His potions may not have been textbook perfection, he may not have fully transfigured his toad, but Hagrid had clearly worked hard to master his long dormant abilities.
Rubeus Hagrid may not have followed the traditional path to wisdom. But he had a new wand, the (sometimes grudging) respect of his peers, classes to teach and 6 OWLs.
Including the highest score ever recorded on Care of Magical Creatures.
(written and submitted by ppyajunebug; please excuse me, because I have something in my eye. Oh yes, it is my joyful tears. ppyajunebug has a way of bringing those out of me, you see. Their submissions tackle some of the saddest moments in canon, turning them around and making something beautiful out of them.)
Oh, but this is wonderful.
Literal Disney queen Idina Menzel slaying the fuck out of that high D. (x)
God damn it Misha
Both is good.
Both is good!