the thing you forget until you watch a show like supernatural is how damn impressive it is that leverage managed 77 episodes without ever having a character make a dumb choice just to advance the plot
Ladies, I am holding out my hand. Do you trust me?
I need you to open Google Maps. Locate your nearest mall. Get in your car. Drive to Yankee Candle.
Past the seasonal pumpkin display, near the back of the store, you will find a trash pile Man Candle section. You will see candles called MMM, Bacon!. Riding Mower. Man Town. (I’m not kidding. Man Town.) Stay strong. Not in this section, but likely very near this section, you will find a candle called Mountain Lodge.
Hold this jar in your hands like a talisman. Close your eyes and picture a man.
I want to be clear: I’m not talking about a Hugh Dancy. Or an Andrew Garfield, a Ben Whishaw, even a Tom Hiddleston. This exercise requires someone in the Chris Evans weight class. The Richard Armitage department. Someone with smile lines around his eyes who could chop the cedar for your bower with his own hands, strangle an alpha wolf, carry you home when you sprain your ankle in the woods, bench press your entire body. Picture this man in your mountain home with a full beard, a slightly grimy white henley, a fond half smile he reserves only for you. Now open the lid and smell Mountain Lodge.
Steady yourself on the man candle display. Give yourself a second. No, you’re not wrong. Yes, the Yankee Candle Company has just eliminated the need for men. This medium tumbler Mountain Lodge candle jar is now your boyfriend. The Yankee Candle Company has effectively replaced the need for contact with the male half of our species with a compact and clean-burning candle in a jar.
“Do you like this one?” the cashier asked, ringing me up. “Every man should be required by law to smell like what this candle smells like,” I replied intensely. “That’ll be $12.01,” she said.
MOUNTAIN LODGE
it literally smells like waking up on a cold night to find a bearded richard armitage adding another quilt to the bed before he gets back in and pulls you snugly against his chest
I’m not fucking around I feel like I should be watching chris hemsworth in flannel and suspenders whittling a delicate masterpiece in front of a fireplace rn
All right, Tumblr, I saw this post a few months ago and immediately realized I had to smell this candle. I have never in my life experienced such a burning need (pun intended) to smell what the Yankee Candle website described as a warm aroma of cedarwood and sage, but what Tumblr described as my new boyfriend.
The trouble is that nearest Yankee Candle Company store was a bit of a trek, and my schedule tended to prohibit this olfactory adventure.
So for the last few weeks, as I’d scroll my Tumblr dash and look at images of attractive manly men, I’d sigh and wistfully think, if only I could engage another sense with this image. If only I could I could truly fathom the ideal fragrance of this man.
And then this happened.
And I knew.
I knew whatever was happening, I needed to get to a Yankee Candle Company. The scent of Mountain Lodge would transport me instantly to this scene. The aroma of this infamous candle could make me live out a self-insertion Avengers fanfic.
So I got in my car, made the drive, and located the Yankee Candle Company. The store was crowded with holiday shoppers. My nose was immediately assaulted by hundreds of warring scents.
I battled through the sea of humanity and the Angel Wings-Merry Marshmallow-Magical Frosted Forest assault, buoyed on by my need to understand what Steve Rogers ripping a log in half with his bare hands smelled like.
I waded toward the back of the store, only to discover the man candle section seems to have been discontinued. What was I going to steady myself on, once I found my scented gateway to hanging out with the Avengers on Hawkeye’s farm? I felt lost, adrift, unable to find my bearings amid Soft Blanket-Fluffy Towels-Home Sweet Home.
And then… rising from the “Fresh” display, there it was.
Mountain Lodge.
It was the moment of truth. What would it be like to smell this infamous candle?
I opened the lid. I took a deep breath.
And I giggled.
Ah yes. This was it. This gentle, pleasantly masculine fragrance, in fact, reduced me to what I’d probably do in the actual presence of Chris Evans: giggle like an idiot.
The smell makes me smile, makes me laugh, makes me gently swoon: all reactions that, indeed, can be elicited by an ideal man. I can barely handle the true power of Mountain Lodge.
Several months have passed since this discovery. I have regaled friends with the saga, and after hearing of it, they, too, felt the burning need to smell the candle. One by one, we have all become Mountain Lodge converts.
In times of need, this candle is our refuge. Our group has developed escapist superpowers, infused by the Yankee Candle Company.
THE CANDLE, THE MYTH, THE LEGEND.
MOUNTAIN LODGE.
This is how you do advertisement
we love everything about all of this. We will always be there for you, just light your Mountain Lodge candle and know that our love burns bright for you.
The official Yankee Candle™ tumblr account has recognized the Mountain Lodge mythos. My work on the material plane is finally complete. A being of pure light, I slowly ascend to the aether.
what if the reason nobody can tell fred and george apart is because they really are interchangeable
not in a ~it doesn’t matter~ way but like. molly and arthur used to worry that fred and george might turn out to be squibs because they weren’t doing any accidental magic as children, but they were, THEY TOTALLY WERE, it just wasn’t anything flashy, instead they were just like idly switching bodies all the time
and like sometimes it doesn’t make much of a difference, whatever, wake up in the opposite bed you went to sleep in, but it gets like dangerous and weird if you’re on a broom or in the pond or letting your mum teach you to cook or trying to be mad stealth, so for a long long time everybody presumes they’re clumsy maybe-squibs and that they’re doing their twin lying thing when they try to explain what’s going on, so they learn to handle the issue their ownselves
they just. don’t go anywhere without the other. they start each day deciding which body is going to be which (because at this point they really don’t know which body is technically fred and which is technically george), and they learn to reorient FAST when they switch, and what things set them off, and eventually they learn how to act like nothing’s up even when one of them’s in the air and one’s on the ground or whatever, and then they burn past that til they can finish each other’s sentences — til they can switch midsentence — til they can play beater together — til they can switch in a split second in the middle of a game — til there’s room for other kinds of accidental magic to start showing up
at hogwarts they keep each other awake in history of magic by switching back and forth. in potions they take turns brewing and keeping lookout for the slytherins. in transfiguration and charms they keep their grades up because one of them will always get a spell right on the first try so they switch and make it look like both of them do and then they practice on their own later in private. it keeps the mystery alive.
at first they thought lee was just a lucky guesser but no, lee can always tell one twin from another twin — it’s not exactly telling fred from george, because while they are definitely two distinct personalities neither one of them feels like fred all the time or george all the time — but lee knows who he argued with yesterday or who he lent his notes to or who’s best to ask for help in astronomy and who’s best at runes.
the weasleys are pretty bad at it for the longest time, but then bill comes home from his first year cursebreaking and he can tell, and over a holiday he teaches his trick to charlie so charlie can tell. alicia and katie and angelina can tell. the twins honestly don’t know if oliver can tell or not; so long as they’re doing what they’re supposed to on the quidditch pitch he doesn’t really care about much else. harry can tell. luna can tell. tonks can tell.
the problem is there’s no way for this to end happily
YES THERE IS
THERE IS INDEED A WAY FOR THIS TO END HAPPILY LISTEN UP
so after fred dies, george hates being trapped in one body, feels claustrophobic, misses fred so much he thinks it might drive him insane
but then one day
george blinks and he’s somewhere he wasn’t a second ago, he’s in a place full of white light and he can’t orient himself, can’t ground himself, feels dizzy and sick and overwhelmed but it only lasts for about thirty seconds.
then he’s back in his own body.
and he looks down at his chest, his legs, his arms, there’s an ear missing so it’s definitely still his living body, but there’s something written on his arm, scrawled in messy quill ink.
“i love you. i miss you.”
george flips out, washes off the ink and immediately writes a message in reply— “how’s death going?”
he walks around with that message written on his arm for weeks, always keeping a quill pen somewhere nearby, waiting, waiting, before it finally happens again. the switch. george is alive, so he can’t handle being in the afterlife, he feels dizzy and sick and it’s the worst feeling in the world, but it doesn’t last long, and when he gets back to his living body, there’s a long message from fred waiting on his right thigh, the ink still drying.
this goes on for years, never as often as either twin would like, but it’s enough. fred helps george figure out how to propose to angelina, fred helps plan the wedding. sometimes it’s fred in george’s body when angelina kisses her husband. sometimes she suspects, but she doesn’t mind in the slightest.
it gets easier as george gets older. the times when he switches into fred’s afterlife don’t hurt as much. he almost feels comfortable there, almost feels oriented. he knows he’s getting closer to dying.
then when george is past ninety, lying on his deathbed, he writes a careful message on his palm. “i’m coming soon. where are you?”
they switch, it lasts for almost five minutes this time, and when george gets back into his own body, he sees the instructions fred wrote over his heart.
“you’ll wake up in king’s cross station. take the second train and get off at the third stop. i’ll be waiting.”
THIS IS THE BEST GODDAMN HARRY POTTER HEADCANON I HAVE EVER READ I AM C R Y I N G
Oh my god. I don’t know what to do with all these feels
a fact that if actually accomplished, should be put on a tombstone.
My favorite part is “We hope he has gone to rest.” What, like… they weren’t sure? Maybe, if ever the bear uprising should start again, he would rise from the ground to finish what he started and slay that 100th bear?
Was this man so powerful they are concerned he might not have decided to rest at all and is simply biding his time?
The events of The Winter Soldier trial told in a series of tweets. Inspired by two amazing mixed-media fics that play with the possibility of what might happen if Bucky was put on trial after the events of CATWS:
This is more of a re-mix than actual fic illustration, though all credit for the idea and the tweets goes to the respective authors. Stylewise I was going for a mix between actual pictures and courtroom sketches. References used courtesy of Getty Images. And thanks to johanirae for being my art-beta.
You know, we try really hard not to hate you. Really hard. You’re my parents’ generation, you know? And I fucking love my parents.
But your generation really needs to learn to shut up and take a good, hard look at yourselves.
Today, I tried to get advice in a civil, polite and educated manner about a situation in which one is trying to juggle work and uni. I wanted to know how one could navigate the narrow criteria to qualify for youth payments from the government. And while some people were helpful, some were outright disgusting. All they could say is “KIDS THESE DAYS ARE SO SELFISH/LAZY/ETC MAYBE YOU SHOULD SPEND LESS TIME ON YOUR SOCIAL LIFE.”
Okay, firstly–if I ask you for advice and that is your response, which, by the way, I CAN DO ABSOLUTELY NOTHING WITH, how about youshut the fuck up?
Secondly, are you seriously fucking saying that every single person in my generation doesn’t work hard? You’re saying that to me? I’m a DIRECTOR at the age of 24 in an organisation with over 200 employees. I have two degrees. I work, intern, study, and volunteer, and the first thing that gets put aside when I’m busy is my social life. And you know what that results in? A FUCKING LOT OF CRYING AND PANICKING AND PSYCHOLOGIST APPOINTMENTS. I have a great resume and references, but do you know how much I paid for that in terms of my own fucking sanity?? A FEW FUCKING THOUSAND DOLLARS IN TEARS, THANK YOU.
Thirdly, let’s talk about how the average burn-out rate in my youth organisation is 7 months. 7 months, and these are kids who volunteer, as well as study at uni or school, work and pay their own rent, utilities and bills, and are under the age of 22, in most cases.
My 21 year old director messaged me today to tell me she wasn’t coming in because had a mental break and panic attack last night, and she’s only been in the role for 3 months.
My 24 year old best friend had a nervous breakdown last month because of the stress of her workload, working full time at EY and studying 1 unit of uni.
My 25 year old ex-boyfriend and I split up because he didn’t have the time or mental capacity for a long distance relationship on top of his 60 hour graduate working week in construction management and 2 units of uni.
I had a meltdown last year at 23 because I was handling full time uni, and internship and volunteering. I can’t get a job despite testing within the top 15th percentile of graduates because you’re not creating them.
I went for a meeting at one of the biggest financial management organisations in Australia the other day and was told that the 9-5 job was a lie, that you’re expected to work more, and not be paid for overtime.
Our generation works our fucking asses off. You take advantage of us all the fucking time. We’re the first generation to be less wealthy than our parentsbecause you guys fucked off with the economic boom of the early 2000s and left us with nothing. By 24-34, we’re only 48% likely to own our own homes compared to your 61%, because of your unsustainable housing market boom. On that note, did I mention that although average wage has rise by 27%, average housing prices have risen by 121%? Yep. My parents bought my house for ~$200,000 in 1990. In 2015, it’s valued at $750,000. Also, you are now making us pay for our university degrees when you got them for free, and not only that, but according to the Governments’ changes in tax law and war on universities in the past year, it will now take us twice as long to pay off our university debts. We’re the first generation of tertiary-educated Australians in history who willstart work already in debt because of our university degrees.
You hate us, but we’re a generation who grew up with war, with terrorism, with fear and conflict and murder and the aftereffects of capitalist bloodshed on our screens every day. We’re watching society fall down around our ears. My International Security professor told us last year that there will be kids entering high school soon who have never seen a year of peace in their lives.
We’re the ones who have been saddled with the mistakes you’ve made. We’re the ones who are holding on to each other despite our differences and telling each other it’s okay to be who we are, whether we’re gay or straight or black or white. Who are trying to save the environment, who are trying to solve your wars and find homes for the asylum seekers you’ve created, who are trying to cure poverty and wage inequality and food distribution, who run your social impact teams, who volunteer, who study courses that are going to change the world, who give back to society, who travel, all the while building our character strengths and portfolios so that we fit into the dumb as fuck capitalist world you made - and all you can say is that we’re lazy?
FUCKyou.
As someone with two degrees and working two demanding jobs and still not pulling in enough to live on each month, this speaks to me, even across the ocean.
Amen.
Speaking as an eighteen year old whose parents were crippled by the economic crash, I feel this. I scored 2190 on my SATs, I get As, I take massive class loads, I am getting my Associates this year, and I am considered very intelligent. I have a talent for medicine and I want to work in an ER as a doctor. I work myself into an insomnia ridden, panicky mess every single semester and it’s sure as fuck not helping to pay for my undergrad education, and it’s goddamn well not paying for med school.
all Bucky wanted to do was get some more tea and now this. Thanks a lot, Sam. You had to fuckin’ tell him, you ass.
Aggressively Progressive Steve Rogers is so what I’m here for.
STeve would unleash and be all “DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH WHOOPING COUGH SUCKS?! DO YOU?! DO YOU REALLY?! ARE YOU FUCKIN’ STUPID?! BUCKY, TELL THEM HOW I BROKE TWO RIBS! TELL THEM!”
Omg, new headcanon, Beleaguered Bucky Barnes being grabbed by the shoulders and practically lifted into camera view by Steve shouting about how Bucky needs to confirm some terrible illness because no one else is alive form that time to corroborate any of Steve’s claims. Bucky shyly telling the reporters that yes, Steve did indeed have that thing adn yeah it is dangerous and Steve jumping back into frame like “I told you! I TOLD YOU IT SUCKED SHUT UP JENNY MCCARTHY!”
“AND YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE?! POLIO!”
“Steve you never had fucking polio-”
“YEA BUT IT STILL SUCKED! KNOW WHAT STOPPED IT?! VACCINES!”
“Oh my God, Steve.”
“I DIDN’T EVNENKNOW WHAT THAT SHOT WOULD DO TO ME BUT I TOOK IT!”
“Steve, that’s… That’s not really a good argument.”
“I DON’T CARE FOX NEWS NEEDS TO STOP USING MY IMAGE!”
“Steve, doll, calm down.”
“I VOTED FOR OBAMA!”
I would love to see Steve at a press conference go “It’s been brought to my attention that there’s a certain idea of what kind of symbol I am for certain positions so I’d like to clear a few things up. *clears throat*
Capitalism sucks, no human is illegal, STOP BEING RACIST, muslims are not terrorists, women can have all the sex they want and that’s none of your business, homeless people are NOT criminal, vaccinations should be mandatory, I’m a flaming bisexual and I should be able to marry who I want and not worry about getting fired for it, rapists should be shot, people should be able to live off of their income without working 3 jobs, and access to appropriate healthcare should be a right not a privilege. Thank you. Oh, and one last thing-
*looks camera dead on with a totally flat expression* Fuck fuckity fuck fuck.” *shuffles papers and walks away leaving stunned silence behind him*
reminder to self to draw that also, complete with reaction shots of all the Avengers
GOD SOMEBODY PLEASE DRAW THIS!!
I just picture Steve, on the issue of slut shaming, being like we don’t talk about that. I don’t talk all about that because I really don’t feel it’s my place… Don’t look at me like that. It isn’t yours either. In fact no one should discuss it. Someone else’s private life isn’t anyone’s business but their own. A lady is a lady and you don’t ever bring it up. Also, vaccinate your kids.
What if oxygen is poisonous and it just takes 75-100 years to kill us?
My science teacher said he thinks that’s true actually
Yeah this is actually pretty much exactly what is going on. It’s why anti-oxidants are such a big deal. Bonus fact: oxygen oxidizes stuff in your cells or, in other words, it’s not toxic, just setting you on fire
very very slowly.
What if there are aliens out there but they subsist on entirely different substances and they’re just scared as shit of us and our crazy ass hell planet? Once in a while some alien anthropologist type suggests checking out the people on this inhabited planet out towards the galaxy’s edge. The other aliens just look at the naive academic with horror. No!! We do not go to that world. That is where the DEATH BREATHERS live. They recreationally consume poisons and are more or less composed of biological fire. Their atmosphere is made of rocket fuel. We must leave the DEATH BREATHERS in peace. Do not go there. Do not.
me: *is scrolling tumblr beside my friend who is also scrolling tumblr* me: *sees post relevant to friend’s interests* me: *turns laptop slightly so friend can see post* me: *points* friend: *makes nonverbal sound of extreme joy* me: *returns to regularly scheduled scrolling* my work here is done
