busted quote

The bust of Marie Antoinette on the terrace at Linderhof Palace. Ludwig II was very much fascinated by the palace of Versailles and its history, which influenced the palace of Linderhof and some of Ludwig’s particular behaviours.

There is no doubt that Ludwig was now living more and more in a world of total fantasy. Sometimes he would dress up as Louis XIV, sometimes he would don his Lohengrin costume and float around the Venus Grotto in his cockleshell-shaped boat. On occasions his servants would pass the door of his dining-room and hear him carrying on a conversation with imaginary dinner guests of the French court. His veneration for Queen Marie Antoinette was so great that whenever he passed a statue of her on the terrace at Linderhof he always took off his hat and stroked the cheeks of the statue. It was in imitation of Louis XIV that he cultivated his extraordinary manner of walking. Among the many people who commented on this was Gottfried von Böhm, who described it as follows: ‘This walk was a total mockery of nature. Taking great strides he threw his long legs out in front of him as if he wanted to hurl them away from him, then he brought the front foot down as though with each step he was trying to crush a scorpion.’

Christopher McIntosh, The Swan King: Ludwig II of Bavaria

Seriously though, thank God it’s Makoto who does the driving.

Yeoreum: [barges into the room] Eunseo, I need to ask you-

Eunseo: [lying awkwardly on her bed, flustered, coughing] Erm, yes, what?

Yeoreum: … Is Cheng Xiao under the bed?

Cheng Xiao: [muffled] no…

I dedicate this book to that rock of hospitality and liberty, to that nook of ancient Norman soil where dwells the noble little race of the sea, severe yet gentle-my present asylum, probably my tomb

Victor Hugo, dedication in Toilers of the Sea 

Publisher: We need a dedication on this one 

Hugo:  I got it! 
Hugo:  DEATH 


This is the dumbest shit, but I’m going to respond anyway ‘cause I’m bored and on a roadtrip. I did not edit the photos other than using instagram. To my knowledge the photographer did no more than lighting and cropping.

As you can see in my taken today photos - no corset, sportsbra - I’ve still got fairly wide shoulders and arms in comparison to my waist. My waist unbound measures 29-30 inches. In a corset, I can get that down to 24-25". My bust is 34 in a sports bra - padded up to probably 37-38 for the shoot. There’s a lot of space in the top of that dress. My shoulders are 18" across, probably 40" ish around. I haven’t measured in a while. But basically a 15" difference from shoulder to waist.

Waist to bust ratio normally .85, ratio in this dress .65 - i.e. way smaller!

The bricks are fucking painted. There’s literally a curved line of paint right next to my bust. You can still see the curved paint lines in the group photo (with the fabulous @fenixchick and @jacquislytherin)

Conclusion: I DO have giant ass arms (I did color guard and I sword fight and weight train, yay muscles!) And can create a freaking tiny waist when corseted! Welcome to the illusion of period clothing! It’s not photoshop, it’s boning and lacing and a big ass bra!

anonymous asked:

Hey! I was wondering whats your honest opinion of Plutarch, he doesn't seem like a "bad guy" but not entirely like "good guy" either...?

Plutarch Heavensbee is a very interesting character. 

You’re right. He’s not quite on the good side or the bad side. If anything, he represents a different side of THG that we don’t always discuss. There’s the oppression, the love story, the rebellion and the eventual freedom gained from many lives being sacrificed. Then there’s this other party of people in the story of THG who are purely gaining entertainment value from what’s going on: the Capitol people and Plutarch. 

There’s the side of the Games where people were gaining through the sacrifice of life through entertainment, through the bets being placed, and even through the sponsorship of their favorite Tribute. I thought there was a great portrayal of that in THG where they showed the Capitol children “play killing” each other while the Games were in progress. It’s become something they look forward to and see as a normal part of their culture.

Regarding Plutarch, at first, we think he’s on the good side because he is with the Rebellion and also a key player. But as the story progresses, there are things Plutarch says and does that point to his true character of wanting to direct the “best war.” We see this when he crafts Katniss’s image as the Mockingjay (that was super inauthentic), when they assemble and film the Star Squad, when he is a witness in her trial and when flying to D12, he asks Katniss if she wants to be in Panem Idol. 

As a reader, we start to see his focus shifting from the Rebellion to more of what the entertainment value and self-glorification value is to him. In many ways, I feel like he uses Katniss to propel himself for his own cause.

Just quickly on the whole Panem Idol thing. I always thought it was such a strange thing for him to suggest to her as they were flying back to D12. She’s totally been on trial for the assassination of a political leader, wasting away and barely living. He then invites her to be a part of his show. I thought, “how insensitive.” But the more I thought about it, I realize what a great analogy for how Plutarch and the Capitolites viewed the Games as: this great “show” where people are “eliminated” according to popularity or skill. It just reinforced his role and perspective in this story.

Is that a social commentary on us as a society? I don’t know. Maybe.

Here’s Johnny (8) - Final


So… This is it. This is the last chapter. Honestly, I never thought I was going to finish this shit but here I am… Finishing this shit. What profound words.

Anyway, enjoy! I’m really gonna miss this series :)

Length: 4,012 words

Warnings: Violence, mentions of death, language, panic.

Do you know that feeling you get when you first make friends with someone?

You feel reserved at first, before someone breaks the ice.  After that – after the first awkward exchanged words – the dam breaks and you exchange stories in a flood of excitement and laughter. Slowly you find out things about each other. What you like, your past, your habits, what you hate… all of this is a honeymoon phase.

Then, eventually following, come the days after this so-called honeymoon phase.

You find out things about them that irk you, and you have to decide if you can pardon that or not. If you can pardon their flaws, and they can pardon yours, than a true, healthy friendship is born. A relationship that will last years, upon years, upon years. Yet, if you can’t ignore their flaws, bitterness is born. Your conversations become tainted with a sour flavor. Your words start leaving a stale taste on your tongue, and their words leaving your ears stinging like rug burn.

It was not like this with Johnny. It wasn’t like this at all. The two of you had no honeymoon phase; you were just thrown into each other’s lives by pure coincidence.  The brunette didn’t know he would become so entangled, and you could’ve never predicted risking your neck for the man now left without a label.

At the same time though, not much has happened in the week you’ve been away from your apartment. No… conversations, or at least important ones. It’s been filler. Small, insignificant things that felt more tense and strained than everything else. Something was in the works, but neither of you knew what.

You thought through all of this as you laid down flat against an old, faded children’s bed in the middle of an abandoned houses second floor. It was soft, clearly worn by love and use. The four walls surrounding you were a light shade of pink, dappled with pastel flowers in the whole range of the rainbow. It was quite cute, actually. It wasn’t too far off from what you liked as a child.

In the house, Johnny was nowhere to be seen, having left roughly an hour back to scout the area. At this point, you knew he wouldn’t do anything to screw you over. If one of you fell, the other one did too. Invisible chains linked you two together and you couldn’t find the desire in you to find your way out of them, preferring to stay right by his side. It was best, for the both of you and everyone else, that way.

You closed you mouth and filled it with air, puffing up your cheeks like fish. When the pressure became too much for your lips to contain, you let all the air rush out in one smooth go. Your breath didn’t fog, but it might as well have due to the lowering temperatures. Night was due, coming in two hours at most. You cursed yourself (and Johnny) for not stopping by your apartment and taking the necessities. Water bottles, canned food, flashlights, phone and charger (electricity still ran through certain areas), that kind of stuff.

The front door down the stairs creaked, the disturbance causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.

It might not be Johnny, you thought, remembering what he had told you earlier.

“The lock is busted,” you quoted, “Don’t come out unless I say it’s me.”

You heard a floorboard squeak downstairs.


You swung your feet off the bed, taking care not to make any sound as you let them connect with the soft, carpeted floor. The ground was supple and forgiving, effectively muffling your footsteps as you pushed yourself of the bed and made your way to the closet. You cursed, hangers littering the floor of the small space.

They might make some noise, you thought as you attempted to brush them away with your foot. You heard another floorboard croak, this time almost at the top of the stairs.

Johnny, where are you?

You shoved the rest of yourself into the closet, only partially closing the door due to no inside handle. There was no way to close it completely, leaving a small gap about the width of a finger. You crouched down, hoping to avoid a high line of sight. The footsteps were right outside of the room now, and your heart was beating fast. The vital organ felt like a race horse just out of the gate, franticly trying to pull itself forward. It was like it was trying to jump straight out of your chest and onto the floor in a bloody mess.

You tried to control your breathing, slowly taking in air through your open mouth, jaw lax. Slow and steady, slow and steady…

The door to the room opened, creaking on its hinges, and the intruder entered. Honestly, you were tempted to call out Johnny’s name. There’s a good chance his habit of sneaking and remaining quiet had taken hold of him, making him forget to announce his presence.

This thought, however, was gone as soon as the heavy, black boots of the intruder strode on in. He was facing the opposite direction from where you were hiding, but you didn’t need to see his face to know he wasn’t the one you had abandoned city with just days ago.

They were tall, possibly even more than Johnny, with messy dark hair on top of their head. Their profile raised the hairs on your arm, although you didn’t know why until they turned around. A slightly upturned nose, skin that contrasted greatly with his dark hair, a long torso…


Your eyes widened, spread open in terror as a smile rose on his face. A glint was in his eyes and it was just like the one he had when he dripped that horrible liquid into your stirring blood.

“Y/N,” He said, approaching the closet with his hands snug in his pockets, “You thought you were free, didn’t you?”

He crouched, just inches from the small gap, body blocking a portion of natural light from entering the closed space. A hand laid itself on the edge of the doors frame, clenching the wood lightly between his hands, “Too bad you’re not.”

You gulped, quivering like a leaf. He was but a breath away, cold air caressing your cheek like death’s kiss. His dark, dark eyes bored into your own and read every secret they had ever learned, “You’re not real. You’re dead. Johnny killed you.”

He smiled, pushing the door open with a sly smirk, his focus on you remaining unwavering and cruel. He reached a pale hand forward, resting it on your knee. You shivered with fear, but could not pull your gaze away from his for fear that he would take advantage of a moment of unawareness.

His thumb started to move, rubbing at the under section of your knee where the soft part was. It was the same spot the doctor hit to test your reflexes, making you feel the urge kick. You would have, if you weren’t so convinced he was about to kill you.

“I’ll let you in on a secret, love,” he stopped rubbing your knee and tightened his grip to the point of black and blue bruising, “You can’t kill me.”

His brown eyes darkened to a charcoal, grabbing you behind the knee and pulling you forward with an aggressive tug. You screamed, kicking out at him as he dragged you by the leg across the carpet, burning your skin through friction.

“Let me go, let me go, let me go…!” a choked sob left your lips as you clawed at the floor, trying to get a grip on anything, anything at all, “Johnny!”

“Johnny can’t help you. Johnny is the reason you’re dying. He will kill you! He’s no different than I!” Jaehyun leaned down and grabbed you by the wrist, pulling you up off the ground in a mess of limbs and tears before he threw you on the bed, pinning you down with a grip on your wrists and legs. He pinned you with his knees, using his greater than average height to his advantage.

“You’re lying, Jaehyun!” You cried out, thrashing and clawing at his wrists, “You’re a fucking liar!”

“Do you want to know why, Y/N? Do you want to know why you can’t kill me?”

“Get off of me!”

He ignored your screams, “You can’t kill me because I’m him and he’s me. We’re the same. You think you’re okay because he fell for your pretty face, that him giving you a little kiss makes him tame?”

“Get off me, you cunt!”

“Language, you little whore.” He bit out, spitting on your face, “You can make a beast sleep, but it won’t be long till it wakes. You’re worst fear will come to life and he’ll eat you alive, limb from limb. Nothing will be left of you for your mother and father to see. Oh, wait! That’s right! They’re dead.”

The feeling in your chest was worse than a bullet to the heart, “Don’t speak of my parents like that.”

“It’s your own fear talking, sweetheart.” He sighed, pulling a knife out of his back pocket. It was the same knife he had used to cut you, and the same knife he was killed with, “You’re afraid of losing him too, and you’re afraid it won’t come with death.”

He hummed, using the backside of the knife to wipe away your flood of tears. It did little to help, only resulting in smearing the salty water across your cheeks. He smiled, licking the knife, “I always knew you’d taste nice.” He continued with the torture, kissing under your eyes as the tears kept coming, ignoring the quivering of your diaphragm and the raspy, ugly chokes escaping you in hiccups.

“Stop, Jaehyun, please.” You choked out, shaking as he drew the knife again and pressed it right where he had cut seven days ago, “Just stop.”

“Stop yourself first,” he whispered while pulling away, sitting back on his hips. He reached down with a single hand, forcing you to open your eyes and see. What you saw was not him, it was someone far worse.


He smiled, tilting his head in a way you normally thought cute. This time, though, it was terrifying. He parted his familiar red lips and spoke, “Wake up, darling,” He drew the knife back into the air, “Wake up.”

The silver plunged into your stomach, cutting deeper than anyone ever has.





You let your eyes close, and let the pain fade away. You let yourself fade away.


I’m hearing him, now. I’ve really lost it.


You felt a hand on your shoulder and a head on your chest. It felt warm. Feeling was returning like a trickle, and you could feel your cold hands moving inch by inch away from your clammy sides. Soft hair tickled your neck, a face buried in the crook of it.

A sniffle, “Wake up, you fucking bitch… Why the fuck are you… I swear…”

You recognized that voice and opened your eyes. On your chest, his head and shoulders were laying. His brown hair was tossed about in a complete mess, ruffled against your clothing. Johnny was kneeling to the side of the bed, clutching the fabric on your shoulders like he was trying to keep you from flying off. You noticed how dark it was; it probably in the middle of the night.

So that… was all a nightmare?

“Johnny?” You rasped out, trying to sit up. He lifted his head, eyebrows raised in shock before falling in a sigh of relief.

He sat back on his heels, “You’re awake.”

You nodded, laughing at yourself. Tears that had stuck to your skin slipped down your cheeks, dripping off your chin, “I’m so glad that wasn’t real.”

Johnny furrowed his brow, “What… what happened?”

Should I tell him?

He got up and sat on the edge of the bed, gripping your hand softly.

No, you thought, I shouldn’t.

“You were yelling in your sleep, almost screaming… I heard you a few houses over when I was scavenging. You yelled…” he bit his lips, “You were yelling his name. Jaehyun’s. Then you… you yelled mine as well.”

He played with your fingers and turned away, breathing in deep. His hands were steady, and it felt grounding, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah…” you muttered out, fighting back the urge to shiver. You had fallen asleep on top of the sheets, rather than under them. No wonder why my dream felt so real, “I’m okay.”

“No you’re not,” he moaned, dropping his head to the sheets. He had folded his long legs up Indian style, flopping completely over himself like a dog, “You shook your head when you said ‘I’m okay,’ its basic psych.”

“Shut up,” you scoffed, wiping the last traces of tears away with your sleeve, “Stop being a smart ass.”

He hummed, sitting back up with a groan. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but closed it right after as if rethinking his words. Once a few minutes of consideration passed, he parted his lips, ready to voice his thoughts.

Warm brown eyes draped a world over your own, “I think I need to tell you about my past.”

You raised your eyebrow, “Really?”

“Yes, really.” He sighed, “And get under the covers. You’re fucking freezing.”

That brought a grin to your face, but it was soon wiped away as dream-Jaehyun’s words returned to you. You can make a beast sleep, but it won’t be long till it wakes.

You ignored your creepy, dark thoughts, “No problem. I feel like I could make the air condensate at this point.”

Johnny laughed at that.

“Anyway,” Johnny started, “It’s a long story. A really, really long story.”

“I’m not going back to sleep anytime soon, so tell away.”

“Good to know, you insomniac,” he grumbled (good-naturedly) before returning to his train of thought, “It started when I was really young. My mom left my dad and I when I was just three, and she didn’t exactly take care of me in the time I was really little. The whole wasn’t held as a child, neglected baby shebang. That’s probably why I was so…” he looked down at his hands, “Well, me.”

“I didn’t develop proper social skills, I was quiet, I thought everyone was out to get me. I was purely convinced that if someone said they loved me, then they were lying. I believed such a feeling didn’t exist. I was so apathetic. So fucking convinced that if I let people in, I would be betrayed, just like my mother did to me when I was young. My father left too, eventually, when I was 18. It was just another drop in the bucket, at that point.”

“When he left, and I was all alone… I dropped out of college, giving up my academic scholarship to some other asshole. I worked for random places, working odd jobs, never staying in one place for too long. The most memorable one was a theater company. It was where- that was where I met Jaehyun for the first time.”

Wow, you thought, what a fitting occupation for the crazy bastard.

“I thought he was insane – I mean he is insane – but I thought he was admirably insane. A new breed of brilliance. He was a lead actor and he sang beautifully. I don’t even like musicals but I enjoyed watching from behind the curtains, just the boy who rolled the curtains on and off. Insignificant, forgettable… But he saw me, tucked in the corner like some anti-social rat.”

“What wonderful luck,” you droned sarcastically, messing with the thin linens.

“What wonderful luck, indeed.” He chuckled, but it had bitterness to it, understandably, “He fucking ruined my already shitty life.”

“I can imagine.”

“You won’t have to,” Johnny ran a hand through his hair, “He approached me after our last showing of Sweeney Todd, asking me if I wanted to go with the crew to celebrate in some rundown bar. I said yes, of course, not wanting to seem like a dick head, and so off we went.”

“At first, he seemed fine. A little bit eccentric, but he’s an actor, so I don’t know what I expected. Talked, bitched about how hot the stage was, mic setup, basically all that shit everyone in this business complains about but never bothers to fix. Eventually, play after play, we got closer,” Johnny gulped, gasping on his breath a little, “Regrettably close.”


“Do you want to-” You started, biting your lower lip, “It’s okay to tell me only what you want.”

“No!” He caught you off guard with the sudden yell, “No… If I don’t tell you every bit of this, I’ll feel like I’m lying.”

You sighed, kicking up the end of the sheets. He gladly pulled some over his lap, letting his large hands rest on top, “Alright.”

“Okay…” He drew, trying to think of where he left off, “Oh, yeah. After we started… you know… he became different. He seemed shaken one night, but he wouldn’t tell me what was wrong.”

Johnny paused, “I think that was the first night he killed someone.”

You hummed, rubbing his leg soothingly with a foot. His face looked like the skin was laced with steel, hardened as he recalled the memories, “I had no idea. I had no idea what he was about to drag me – us – into.”

“He stopped attending theater practice, he didn’t come around as often, no one but me saw him…” Johnny sighed, “Needless to say, he lost his job, not like he cared though. The old Jaehyun I knew was gone, replaced with one who wouldn’t tell me where he went at night, wouldn’t tell me why he never ate with me… I was afraid I was going to be left in the dark again.”

“So… I approached him one day. I confronted him about all his odd behavior. Looking back, this is probably my biggest mistake. I could’ve let him go and continued being bitter but at least I would still have clean hands, but no… I asked where he was going at night, and he invited me to join.”

“Is this where the Order comes in?”

He nodded, “Yeah, it is.”


Johnny laughed, “Fuck is right. Jaehyun took me to this brick building in the rich western southern district of the city, which obviously made me really fucking confused. What the hell were we – a couple of college-age dumbasses – doing inside a clearly high class structure? It felt too clean, like I was a rat running their pretty white floors.”

“A man, probably in his forties, led us to a back staircase. It was white like everywhere else, except when you got to the bottom… Something was clearly off. There was equipment laying on tables, stuff like knives and saws, biohazard waste bins, a shit ton of disposable plastic, face masks… Similar to the ones you’d wear in a hospital.”

“When we passed through that section, it opened up to a room of men and a few women. I recognized one man as a member of the cities counsel, and some woman who I assumed to be his wife. There were probably more important people there as well, but I didn’t know them at the time. They were drinking a liquid out of fancy glasses, and Jaehyun had giving me one. It was blood.”

“They locked me to the chair, asking Jaehyun all these questions about my background and history. He knew more about me than I knew about myself, it was so analytical. Eventually they turned their attention away from him to me, and began pressing me. I was scared, unable to get the taste of blood out of my mouth when they told me why I was there.”

“They told me to ‘Join or die,’ essentially. They said that I had to ‘contribute,’ that I couldn’t leave once I knew about what was happening. They kill people, Y/N, and disguise it with political power. They indoctrinate messed up people like me to get rid of who they deem worthless, street pollution, the sort that people ignore on cold winter nights. The police were in on it too, they were payed to ignore it. Not fully, though.”

“Not fully?”

“Yeah,” Johnny sighed, “If you’re caught you get put on death row just like any other murderer. It’s a cycle of kill, eat, avoid. Monthly you had to bring in a body, or at least some part of it. Jaehyun was a favorite of theirs, mostly due to his ability to act. He never failed to present, so they were excited when he brought me in. The Officials, the ones who ran this, immediately held me to high standards.”

“They pay on a kill by kill basis, which explains why Jaehyun quit theater. He’d found a new place to exercise his love for acting, and get paid handsomely for it. It was in this for about a year and a half before I got injured that one night in the alley. I’d separated myself from Jaehyun months ago, letting myself slip into a day job with a sick occasional night job. It was pure coincidence that the apartment I went to – your’s - had Jaehyun as a neighbor.”

“Oh,” you muttered, “That’s really…”

“Yeah,” He laid down, “And you know the rest.”


“All this made me have an overly aware sense of mortality, too.” Johnny sighed laying down across the sheets, scooting up to where you were, “I’ve been too close to death for too long.”

You nodded, scooting back into his chest. You had another question, one last thing you wanted to know…



“How many people have you killed?”

He went silent, breathing in deep. He began to mess with your fingers, “20, I think. 21, if you count Jaehyun.”

“Ah,” you whispered, turning over so you were facing him. His warm brown eyes looked lighter, even if the lighting was dim, “Make that 22.”

“Excuse me?”

“When you killed Jaehyun…” You started, sighing, “You killed the old you, too. Make it 22.”

Johnny laughed, brushing your hair behind your ear, “That makes no fucking sense.”

“You make no sense. It’s perfect,” you reached your hand up between the sheets and flicked his nose, resulting in him scoffing and jokingly biting at your finger, “If you think about it, he was the one who forced you into that. Jaehyun wasn’t a good guy, and he pushed it on to you. You’ve simply shed that skin. You’re you now.”

“Fair enough,” he sighed rolling on top of you. You wheezed, trying to push him off. He situated himself on top of you, pecking your face all over, “Make it 22, huh?”

You whined as he pecked you lips, pressing into them a bit more in order to open them up. He chuckled against your displeased groans, ignoring your complaints about ‘how heavy he fucking is.’ Eventually he pulled away, letting you breathe.

“Alright, alright…” He got up off you. You watched as he approached the window, yanking the water swollen wood up till it was completely open. He reached into his back pocket, pulling out the switchblade that he’d stolen of Jaehyun.

“What are you doing?” You asked sitting up in bed, the sheets falling from your shoulders.

Johnny sighed and ignored your question, looking down at the knife. It reflected a small portion of moonlight, tossing a sliver glow across the room. The glow shifted as he examined the blade, before finally disappearing when he reached his arm out the window and threw it to the marsh, the mud gripping it and pulling it down to its final resting place, never to be used again. He returned to the bed, lying down beside you.

“I made it 22.”

So…that’s the end. I know a lot of people were expecting smut but it just didn’t feel right, so I chose to not include it. This was very hard to end, as well, mostly due to the oddness of this and the lack of forethought. I all honesty, this is a complete rough draft. I might go back and edit it one day/add in stuff but if I do its going to be a while from now.

Thanks to all the reader who read this hot mess all the way through :) It means a lot to me, really. I’m amazed got more this many readers, I never had thought it was possible. Thanks to all those who liked and reblogged, to those who gave me early on feedback. All feedback, really. Without that I would have stopped before I really even started.

I’ll stop crying now :,)

Thanks :)