anonymous asked:

Sorry if I'm dumb but in video u reblogged of Tyler shooting josh then himself, "only skin and bones remain" what is that? Like what song and stuff?

it’s not from a song it was on their Quiet Is Violent tour and it comes from a poem tyler tweeted

the voiceover is Nigel, a four hundred and something year old british guy(that you never actually saw only heard) who would provide commentary throughout the show and before ode to sleep Nigel would recite the poem over the speakers and he would repeat “only skeleton bones remain” over and over and then tyler would “shoot” josh and then tyler would “shoot” himself and the lights would go out and it was the best thing in the entire world tbh

The saddest sentence in Canon

“You have done all the work in this business. I get a wife out of it, Jones gets the credit, pray what remains for you?“
"For me,” said Sherlock Holmes, “there still remains the cocaine bottle.”
(ACD, The Sign of Four)

Holmes keeps telling us he needs the cocaine between cases to alleviate his boredom. But he has just finished a case and there is no reason to doubt that the next will come along soon. This is not about boredom. Since Canon Holmes was never interested in fame or public praise, it cannot be about not getting credit either. What remains must be the truth: This is about Watson getting a wife out of it.

And this is exactly the situation Moffat re-creates at the beginning of HLV, the episode following upon The Sign of Four Three. Sherlock is not bored, he has a case and still takes drugs because John has a wife. 

@tykobrian, @monikakrasnorada, @inevitably-johnlocked, @jenna221b

Five Merlin Recs - C

Call of the Bond by Val_Creative (3k)

Camelot’s knights discover cells and cells of prisoners and traitors. Arthur narrows his eyes in suspicion at the group of muddied servants huddling around, muttering to each other and giving worried looks. He marches within the dingy, shadowy holding-cell, yanking aside a terrified woman and hearing the others protest.
It’s a boy, hardly sixteen-name-days. He’s in their centre of their attention, his wide-eyed, drowsy gaze unblinking.
Arthur has never seen a pair of eyes so empty.

Claimed by Mad_Maudlin (1k)

“I’m not going to let you harm him anymore,” he said, and tried to smoothly reach for the bell, which was the first part of the binding ritual. He knocked it on the floor under the bed instead.
“A claim, warlock,” the incubus repeated. It still sounded amused. “If this mortal belongs to you, then I’ll gladly step aside and leave him.”
Merlin wasn’t certain that Arthur belonged to anybody, but the bell was not coming out without a fight and if there was a way to end this without explosions and fire… “Well, as it happens, he does,” Merlin said. “Belong to me, I mean. We’ve, er, we go way back together. I claim him, my prince, shove off now.”
The incubus’s horrible smile widened. “Prove it.”
Merlin panicked.

Closer To Heaven by silkmoth (3k)

For a second, the prince looked into horror filled blue eyes, and then Merlin was falling backwards… and was snatched back to Arthur’s chest in the last moment. With Merlin clutched tightly to him, Arthur turned around to press his manservant’s body against the trunk, grabbing a branch about them with his right hand. Gods Merlin dug his fingers almost painfully into Arthur’s waist, shaking badly.
“Are you all right?”
“Uh… yes.”
Arthur looked at Merlin; his manservant seemed to be everything but all right. And –dammit- his lips were blue.

Courted By Paper by peachchild (5k)

On the surface is an origami frog, lying on its back. He turns it over, looks at it this way and that, and, remembering them from grade school, sets it back down and presses experimentally on the tail, letting go so that it leaps its way off his desk and onto Gwen’s beside him. She smiles, hops it back over to him, and he turns to look around for its creator. Leon is studiously copying down what the lecturer’s saying and Lancelot is staring wide-eyed at him as if he’s done something wrong, which Arthur knows immediately he hasn’t, because Merlin is grinning at him, a collection of paper frogs forming on his desk.

come to me, my measureless dream by anon / orphan_account (2k)

Liam’s there, too. He’s the only dark one, easy enough to spot.
For no reason at all, you find yourself saying, “That new kid,” after a while. The unlit fag in your mouth moves with your words. “Liam. What’s up with him?”
The fat kid snorts. “'sides the usual?”
You nod.
“Mighty bonkers, that one, Jav.”
There’s a grin on your face, crooked. “Aren’t we all?”
The fat kid’s mouth twitches. “Aye, but this one, he…”
“Mighty bonkers,” the fat kid repeats. Then he elaborates: “He’s in my group therapy. Goes around insistin’ he’s white. Says he’s blond, blue-eyed. Like some fuckin’ Aryan, all right.” The fat kid giggles.
Your mouth opens, and the fag falls to the ground.

philosophicalconservatism asked:

Great post about "supply side economics" being a misnomer by the way. Just because those on the left decide to give disproportionate attention to the "demand" side does not mean that those who choose not to go with them become "supply side". They remain what they always were: defenders of free markets that extol the good of both supply and demand within an economy.

basically some stolen footage of Fitz’s past…or what remains of it in the S.H.I.E.L.D. databanks, because it seems to have been tampered with (probably to keep the identities of the people safe).

Doctor & Clara seems to be “not ok” about this meeting (did they not know they had a hybrid son or something) , a woman (SHIELD Agent taking care of Leo, seems to know Clara) explains to Clara that she has told Leo stuff about her, Leo is telling them about himself (he’s like his mum, Doctor is a bit jelly) and asks Clara about his dad (seems that he didn’t know the Doctor was his father)

@millicentcordelia tagged me to list three things that you probably don’t know about me.  Thank you!

But what can still, possibly, remain a mystery to you, Dear Readers, about your humble author, who takes every opportunity to share horrible, disgusting secrets straight out of a Gothic novel?

You may not know that…

… I’m a classically-trained painter!  I went to high school at my town’s art magnet school, where I received a superlative education in everything from color theory to the use of egg tempera.  While the most widely-employed techniques formed the foundation of the curriculum, the projects ranged from the basic to the outlandish, and experimentation was heartily encouraged.  I also received an excellent education in art history.  Outside study was not just essential- owing to the time and content restrictions of the high school milieu- but enjoyable.  The way my teacher taught, you wanted to learn more.  You wanted to talk to her, and impress her, and convince her that you were serious.  High school was a shitty time for me- I being so inescapably odd that I was even tormented at an art school- by goths- Tormented At An Art School By Goths being the title of my autobiography- but art made it not all right, but survivable.

… I’ve lived in three different states and one foreign country.  To this day, I don’t know why.  My dad just liked to move around.  If you ask me to name my home town, I’m like, I don’t know- Mars?  I was born in New York, though, and I consider that my spiritual home.  It’s as much a way of life as it is an actual place.

… I have two tattoos, both of which I did myself, with pen and ink, when I was nineteen.  Don’t try this at home.  The earlier one that a friend did with liquid eyeliner, faded almost immediately.  Sixteen years later, not even the scar remains.  I’ve always wanted to have a tattoo done by a professional, but it’s expensive, and I really have no idea of where to go around here.

I would like to tag @symphony-in-silver, @frigidtsarista, @fatal-plastic-kiss, @stealvacantlove, @asparagusinseason, @zadiest- if they’d like!

The Voices

You drive and crash
You swim and drown
You try to escape the past
Only for it to bite you in the back
As soon as you turn around

You get dressed
But lose your pants
You lock your house door
Only to forget your keys inside
A broken mess is the definition
Of your life

We’re the voices
What remains of your abandoned conscience
You should’ve tried harder to fix us
Instead of repeatedly fucking up
No, no
You don’t steal from your neighbors
No, no
Don’t swear at the sky
Oh no
Put that phone down
Until you learn how to play nice

You apologize
Then keep crossing clearly drawn lines
You go to church
And never practice what you preach
What makes you think
You’ll get forgiveness from me
Or the judge and jury

You lose your temper
And hurt the ones you love
So you retreat to your silent corner
Hoping to hide from the law

You went too far this time
If money is your joke
Then everyone forgot to laugh
Don’t hold your breath
Karma offers no bail

We’re the voices
What remains of your abandoned conscience
You should’ve tried harder to fix us
Instead of repeatedly fucking up
No, no
You don’t steal from your neighbors
No, no
Don’t swear at the sky
Oh no
Put that gun down
Until you learn how to play nice

Here you are. It is a copy of one of my newest creations, and it lacks the same… personality as it’s predecessor, truly being more plant than anything else.

Although do make no mistake. It is not a dead thing. If you give it crystalline minerals, it will grow.
And considering your current position, I decided to add sugar to what it can use to grow. The more it is given, the faster it will grow.

Otherwise it needs no further care to survive, and what remaining maintenance it requires is minimal.

Try not to damage it’s roots as they pass through the crystalline structures until it is large enough to be able to withstand pruning.
As it grows it should have more petals and scales without the roots passing through them, and these can be removed with little upset.
Damage the sphere in the middle and it dies. as it grows larger it may grow more of these spheres, and they can be removed and will grow into new flowers.

Do you still wish to accept this sprout?

My what a pretty flower this is~ It’ll be well taken care of here rest assured.

Of course I’ll accept it~. Thank you.



The day had started out alright. Seeking to get out of Goodneighbor for a few hours and get a breath of fresh air, Hancock headed out into what remained of the old city, no set destination in mind, just a pocketful of chems and ammo and that shotgun tucked under his arm. He took out a few rabid dogs, wandered past a group of feral ghouls eating…. he didn’t want to know what, and eventually ended up down by the Andrew Station T stop when he ran into a group of raiders.

The fight was over pretty quickly, Psycho tended to help with that, but the ghoul hadn’t made it out without earning himself a few new battle scars, the gashes slashed across his chest and stomach not the least of those. It was somewhere between Andrew Station and Goodneighbor that he finally collapsed in an alleyway, once the Psycho had worn off and he started feeling the effects of his injuries. This was as good a place as any to take a nap, right?

anonymous asked:

I did scroll down but I remain confused,what's going on with solo Harry,any news aside from the James Corden thingy?

i barely paid attention but james corden said something about jeff being harry’s manager and everyone flipped out about solo harry but i dont know why because i thought we already knew this.