This Magnificent Feast

REBLOG if you think Tumblr needs to improve its message/fanmail system, with an Outbox, so you can keep track of what’s been said in a conversation.

neil-gaiman:

webbyghost:

isnarniainyournose:

evayoblog:

cosmic-rebirth:

(With enough support—reblogs in the thousands—I’ll write to them, pointing out the deficiency, but so should you.)

yeah ffs

hells yes

Or at least not make any message you’ve replied to VANISH FOREVER.

asheydoo55:

bellagschang:

nakedwithmjolnir:

“Conclusion: inevitable. Unless..”

#JUST. TRY. TELLING. ME. THIS. ISN’T. DEVOTION. #JUST. TRY. #holmes waits until the last possible second because he wanted the last thing he saw on this earth to be john #that’s all he wanted #he knew he could rid the world of moriarty but it would be at the cost of his own life #and yet the last thing he wanted was to see john before he died #i don’t fucking care if you see it as romantic love or asexual love or platonic love or what-the-fuck-ever #this is devotion at its highest level #they’ll always be the center of each other’s world #nothing and no one will ever change that

lastofthetimeladies:

#THIS #THIS IS WHERE WE SAW RON WEASLEY FROM THE BOOKS #THIS SHINING MOMENT WHERE RON WAS IN FACT HARRY’S VERY BEST FRIEND #NOT COMIC RELIEF OR THE GUY WHO EATS ALL THE TIME OR HERMIONE’S LOVE INTEREST #BUT THE ACTUAL GRYFFINDOR KNIGHT RONALD BILLIUS WEASLEY #UGH

✾ Sherlock Colour Caps

lokilous:

areyoutryingtodeduceme:

soltian:

That first moment…Mark just hesitantly initiates the hug, uncertain of its reception.

Then next Tom realizes the hug is going down and does that…what do you even call that slapping motion? The “hell yeah bro put your hands around my waist locking you in” move?

Then they start swaying. Swaying. What the fuck, guys.

And then they finish off by giggling like schoolgirls as they hug-crab-walk away. I cannot dissect down far enough to explain the cute-ception that I’m being plagued with by these men.

o h m y g o d icant

I can’t stop giggling. What is this-

thebookenchantress:

Wenlock Books in the quintessentially English village of Much Wenlock, Shropshire. Savidge Reads reviews it thusly: “(At Wenlock Books) you… are hit with a level of book porn almost too tempting...and then you go upstairs, where nooks and crannies of bookish delights await you in secret corners.” Okay, I am convinced. Someone take me please. (image wikimedia)

thebookenchantress:

This is inside that Much Wenlock bookshop I just posted AAAAAAA I love this place!! (image savidgereads.files.wordpress.com)

kate221b:

And the Telegraph one, for anybody who hasn’t seen it yet.

mycroftknowsbetter:

Tweet of the year

There is a moment when E.T. is out and about on Halloween, dressed as a ghost, and spies a small child dressed as Yoda from The Empire Strikes Back. As E.T. spots this apparently kindred spirit, he lifts his arms in greeting and cries ‘Home’. In scoring the moment, John Williams uses a phrase from Yoda’s theme from The Empire Strikes Back, creating a moment for viewers to make the connection for themselves. I got it immediately, having listened to that particular soundtrack over and over again, and found myself looking around at my fellow audience members to see if they had spotted it too.

What thrilled me about the moment was that it wasn’t telegraphed and explained. It was there to be discovered. It credited me, the audience, with the intelligence to join the dots and I felt privileged and trusted by the film-makers, and was suddenly possessed by an urge to let them know, to tell them that the device succeeded and that I’d got it.

“

—	Simon Pegg in Nerd Do Well (via if-inconvenient)

(x)

thebookenchantress:

shipofthefens: So earlier this week I was very excited to discover a new alleyway in Cambridge, which held not only an excellent little cafe but also The Haunted Bookshop. Hidden away in St Edward’s Passage, just off King’s Parade, the Cambridge Tab sums it up just beautifully:

‘Neglected and disorganised though it may seem, everything about this higgledy-piggledy alcove of literature has its place. There are two floors. The first is devoted to teetering piles of second-hand poetry; kickable columns of prose. The second, accessed by a creaking red-carpeted staircase, displays what the store owners have termed ‘juvenile fiction’. Its cave-like interior houses a treasure trove of long-lost Milly Molly Mandys and Enid Blytons, and the walls are lined with occasional faded posters and placards. It feels like a nod to the wartime generation that we may only have heard wistfully whispered of by our grandparents.’ (photo by louisathomson)

idratherbereading:

A

abundantlyqueer:

steven-moffat:

AU: Sherlock and John meet James Bond at Buckingham Palace at the Opening Ceremonies for the 2012 Olympic Games

“Oh, here’s trouble,” Bond says as he comes striding into the reception room.

“I’m perfectly happy to leave,” Sherlock says. “In fact, I’d have been perfectly happy not to come at all.”

“Not you, sonny,” Bond says, his scowl turning to a crooked smirk as he walks straight past Sherlock. “John Watson, you bloody devil. Who let you in here?”

Honestly, I felt that the inclusion was the perfect nod to the Doctor. Those who know him have all immediately recognized his materialization. But to those who don’t know him, it was merely noise and not enough to warrant further thought. (I mean, all the companions come running from blocks away when the TARDIS lands in a city, yet no one else ever takes notice). Plus, The Doctor has never gone out of his way to grab the limelight. He (mostly) just observes. So I think that was Danny’s way of letting us, those in the know, know that the Doctor was indeed there, and that if he had to step in to stop any threat, then we will never have to know. Because that is the true Doctor, the silent guardian.

“

—	A really nice comment on this article mentioning the TARDIS noise during the Olympic Opening Ceremonies (via notdoingmywork)