WESTWORLD | 1.04 | Hector & Maeve

Well, hello there.

mimzilla  asked:

Re: Cask of Amontillado, I may be misremembering but I think the guy also literally chains his friend up before starting to build the wall. And the friend (who is v. drunk) is going 'haha come on dude this is funny and all but let me out now. Lol come on man where's that wine at what are you doing with those bricks'

Let’s be clear here: this meme was basically made for me.

And yes, he chains up his friend, who is dressed like a clown and also very drunk, and his friend slowly sobers up as the dude is bricking up a wall.

Also, for the lazy in us, and for those who want to see the posts that started it all, I highly recommend Vox’s explainer for this meme:

So people are actually blaming Daryl???

Like, honestly what the fuck? He was standing up for his friends and probs thought Negan would focus on him. Daryl didn’t stand up and say “kill glenn”, he didn’t get to choose who died, he didn’t hit Glenn himself, so how is it his fault that Negan is unpredictable?? It was in the comics, and while i know they don’t always follow the comics, in this case they did so that should be all the reason you need. Daryl was not antaginizing Negan or trying to make him angry, he was standing up for his family. If you want to blame anyone, blame the writers not Daryl and certainly not Norman.

A Good and Lovely Intention

Snape: Miss Lovegood, what are you doing outside of my office?

Luna: I am hanging butterbeer corks on your door, sir.

Snape: *resists urge to pull out hair* …Why?

Luna: I’ve been sensing some very bad vibes around the castle lately, sir. Bad. I think something terrible is going to happen soon, and I think I may know why. Tell me, sir, have you been noticing things missing from your office or classroom recently?

Snape: I – what? How did you know that?  

Luna: Hmm, yes, I thought so. I felt their aura very powerfully, here. I’ve been sensing them in the dungeons, off the Serpentine Corridor on the third floor by the Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom, and, oddly enough, in the seventh floor corridor, across from the tapestry by Barnabas the Barmy, though I’ve no idea why. There’s nothing there to steal…

Snape: *genuinely intrigued, despite better judgement* What are you talking about, Miss Lovegood? Do you… Do you have any solid, pertinent information about the strange happenings at Hogwarts this year…? *looks over shoulder, lowers voice* …Do you know something, Miss Lovegood?

Luna: *nods deeply*

Snape: *is honestly expectant*

Luna: *lowers voice as well* ….Nargles.

Snape: What?

Luna: Nargles, sir. They’re tricksters. Invisible creatures that steal things and pull pranks for fun. They often take my shoes and other things. But I’ve never seen them this bad before. Usually it’s just clothes or homework. But they’ve just been insatiable this year! So I am placing butter beer corks everywhere I’ve sensed a heavy infestation. Like your office.

Snape: ……Miss Lovegood, take your…butter beer corks and go back to your common room.

Luna: But the nargles—

Snape: Nargles are not real, Miss Lovegood.

Luna: ……Just because you can’t see them doesn’t mean they’re not real. But okay, sir. *takes down butter beer corks* *sighs* Their auras really are getting out of control, sir. I don’t think that even stealing from teachers is going to satisfy them, soon.

Snape: ……

Luna: Bad vibes, sir. Bad vibes. I think they might start stealing…lives.

*stares unblinkingly with giant eyes, butter beer corks dangling uselessly in her limp hand*

Snape: *feels irrationally and entirely too disturbed*

Luna: ……

Snape: ……

Luna: *sudden smile* Well, I’m off to the seventh floor, then. Have a good evening, sir.

*wanders away in wrong direction*

Snape: *considers drinking more butter beer and holding on to the corks*

!!!! PSA !!!!

I fucking love Shinee

People!!!!! I have SUPER great news!!!


So i could do this like for 99% because you commissioned me!!!! ^U^ thank you people you saved me!!!!!!!!!!! I love you so much, thank you, thank you people :”>

of course i need to pay for every month ahhah, but now i am not so afraid and panic as before) So commissions still open, but i want to say that i feel MUCH better and i am good now ^^””” Sorry for all that panic posts and thank you again for commissioning me :”>

love you people!

Just A Touch

In hindsight, Harry felt that he should have come to this conclusion before now; his luck dictated that just when he thought things could not get any worse for him, they invariably did.

Yet it seemed so impossible, so contrived, so ludicrous of an idea that it had never even occurred to him for one moment.

He wished it had.

There must have been a reason that he reacted so strongly to Professor Quirrell’s touches, after all—even if it wasn’t Voldemort’s true body that he had come into contact with all those years ago. Maybe his mother’s protection had played a part in him not being able to parse the information that came from sweaty fingers brushing against his, or a body—blood rushing through its veins—contorting in agony and burning beneath his hands.

But he had just been thankful to be alive, really. When the headmaster told him that the power of love was what had vanquished the Dark Lord, Harry had no reason to think too deeply about it—or maybe no desire to do so, if he was being honest with himself.

Still, he should have known better than to think that he was truly done with Lord Voldemort.

Even in his first year, when Harry had been given the option to join him, his consent would have just been another sequence of events that would lead him back to the Dark Lord—another reality in which their lives would be joined together even more so. It was this, then, that should have made him realize that no matter what option he would have taken, their lives were too governed by fate for one of them to end this prematurely.

He had so much time—so much time in which he should have come to realize this. He had seen the young Tom Riddle in his second year, when by all rights, he shouldn’t have even been able to go near the teenage Dark Lord until his plan to regain his body had come to fruition.

And even despite the year in which seemingly nothing had happened with Voldemort, Harry should have been more conscious of the fact that his scar had started hurting again soon afterwards—truly paining him and showing him dreams of things he did not understand or had ever even dreamed of before now. He was just a teenager though, and if there had been any possibility that Voldemort was finally dead—really and truly dead—he had wanted to believe it.

He should have thought more, understood more, been more attentive to the things that Sirius had told him; the increase of the Death Eater activity had just been rumors before now, true, but it was obvious to him now that there was credence to the words. And every rumor had a spec of truth embedded in it. He knew that.

It was definitely evident now—with Voldemort standing before him, exceptionally tall and exceptionally pale and exceptionally thin. It was definitely evident now, with masked and robed figures surrounding him in a graveyard located in who-knows-where, with Harry bound too tightly to the tombstone, and blood trickling down his right arm.

Here, right now, Harry was absolutely positive that his luck could not have been any more rotten. He should have known better than to think as much, however, and when the Dark Lord finally reached forward and laid that pale, almost skeletally thin finger upon Harry’s cheek, he knew two things to be true.

The first was that Voldemort had not been bluffing throughout his monologue; he could touch Harry. The touch was all-intrusive, pain beyond pain, an agony that made him want to rip out his nerve-endings or do anything—anything at all—so he could be rid of it.

But the second realization that he came to was much, much worse than the first, because along with the agony that he was feeling now, there was something else. It was not a feeling, or an emotion, or anything of the sort; it was more akin to knowledge being transferred straight into his mind. It was an epiphany that came to him with such suddenness that if not for what he was already experiencing, he would have jumped.

He knew now, with every molecule, every part of himself, that the dark lord was his soulmate.

And if the slow blink of satisfaction of those piercing, scarlet eyes was anything to go by—

Voldemort knew it as well.

So this was inspired by literally all of the authors on my dash who kept doing soulmate AUs. I’m a slut for them, and they were just enabling me, guys. it was fun though (and also 750 words on the dot, which makes me inordinately happy), and I will probably do more in future? Maybe? This also, of course, was written for the soulmate AU in which you don’t know your soulmate until you first touch them.

Do to an approach I saw that consisted of writing-without-editing, I attempted that again, so that was a fun learning experience. I went back and fixed shit up afterwords, of course, and it made me realize why I rarely tend to use this technique. @eveiss was a huge help in that though–she was like my unintentional surprise beta, you guys. She did a beautifully thorough job of it, and this would not be nearly as good as it is now if not for her. This is for her her <3

Edit: Formatting.

I just wanna say… I really do hate being so gripey about twd, it’s just so hard to see something that has played such a big part in my life not measuring up to it’s old standards.
The cast is always -so- wonderful… it’s the storytelling itself that gets me, you know?