Jimmykimmellive: Backstage At #Kimmel With Timothée Chalamet Oprah! #CMBYN #WrinkleInTime 

- What’s that you’re reading? - It’s about cryptography. - Like… Secret messages? - Not secret: that’s the brilliant part. Messages that anyone can see, but no one knows what they mean, unless you have the key. - How’s that different from talking? - Talking? - When people talk to each other, they never say what they mean. They say something else, and you’re expected to just know what they mean. Only I never do. So, how’s that different? - Alan, I have a funny feeling you’re going to be very good at this.

Alan Turing & Christopher Morcom, from the movie “The Imitation Game”

1x20 // 13x09

Set It Up (2018) dir. Claire Scanlon

“He was like a painting you wanted to burn so you could finally stop staring at it.”

— Krampuslauf, Holly Black | My True Love Gave to Me

SLYTHERIN: “I know my value. Anyone else’s opinion doesn’t really matter.” –Michele Fazekas + Tara Butters (Peggy Carter: Agent Carter: Valediction)

types of girls: movie genres

comedy: red lipstick, dancing in the rain, the thrill of being alive, stupid selfies over actually pretty ones, body positivity, standing up for your friends, dog people, street smart

romance: paris, insecure about looks, wants to write poetry, literature lover, gets a million crushes every day, natural make-up, always reassures their friends, wants to be liked by everybody, one or two close friends but lots of acquaintances

indie: headphones, wistful expression, rain and thunderstorms, hipster aesthetic, not very school smart, dancing, shy, deep blue, sugary foods, reclusive, chooses who they trust

fantasy: suprisingly into psychology, sweet smiling, keeping secrets, loyal friend but unpopular, head full of thoughts, keeps to themself, can be childish, ice-cream although it’s winter, humming songs to yourself

action: fast-paced, messy hair and handwriting, tragic backstory, dyed streaks in hair, first of your friends to drive a car, the youngest sibling, gets bored on planes, using your phone, outcast or stands up for outcasts, dark red and dark blue and rich black

crime: quiet, sarcastic comments, has a deep voice, very funny around those they know, math pro, smokes, can sometimes be rude to people, harsh words

cartoon: yellow converse, good attitude, traumatic experiences have happened to them in the past but they’re recovering, lemonade, carnivals in summer, shorts, knowing just the right thing to say to your friend, puns

anime: flowers, cutesy decorations, really good at drawing, classical music, studies a lot, does yoga, probably vegetarian, is very friendly but doesn’t have many close friends, feels alone sometimes, smarter than most believe, cute heels, pastel colors

musical: vibrant, always has a song stuck in their head, doodles in class, pretty aesthetic, can be silly, fancy restaurants, playing harmlesss pranks, an extrovert, plays an instrument

drama: loud laugh, deep purple shade aesthetic, has a million accounts, sunglasses, dancing even if you can’t do it well, making dirty jokes, journal, seems open but actually is very secretive, intelligent, can be brash, doesn’t wear make-up

N'jadaka AU where hes a judgy meme connoisseur, wakandas war dog stationed in america, & shuri’s cool older bro 

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Fest: RS Games 2016: Team Place

Author: imochan Rating: Teen Word Count: 3,540 Era: Multiple Eras

Summary: He supposes that this is what is expected of him, to sit here and listen to wetness sinking into the earth and remember how it felt when it was sunny, and there were four of them, and Sirius Black looked at him like he was a piece of the universe he wanted to understand so badly that he was willing to take Remus apart completely and then put him back together.

Comments: I want to wrap myself up in this beautiful writing. I could picture every detail so clearly; it felt like I was there, in that moment, with Remus. And don’t even get me started on that last scene, I just can’t with how perfect it was. I’d quote this whole fic if I could.

Favorite Lines: 

He comes upon it by accident then, very near to the old well. He steps out of the woods and there it is, like a little puff of air on the back of his neck, like a stinging slap on the cold meat of his cheek, like a spark of static electricity made from rubbing his sad and stockinged feet along the carpets of old memorial corridors.

I didn’t learn this on my own, of course. I had help. Christopher helped.