So I went to RP3 in Amsterdam last Friday with my sister and it was fun! :D Here are some of the photos I took, mostly of the pre q&a, since my camera hates the dark lol, bottom one was made by my sis for me with her phone. My favourite moment was the look on the guys their faces when during the cheer question the person on stage shouted ‘Waar is het feestje!?’ and the whole crowd yelled back 'Daar is het feestje!’. They were so stumped xD As if we had prepared something in advance lol. Go team Yoshi! xD Also poor Jack with those stagelights xD;; Jack couldn’t see jack sh*t.

Shitposting in Dovahzul
  • “krif zey ko saad laas/ksl” - fight me in real life/irl
  • “grind zey ko piiv” - meet me in (the) pit
  • “ofaal pruzah” - git gud
  • “ni pah muz” - not all men
  • “mmm fos drey hi saag- mmm whatcha say
  • “fahdondrik” - friendzone
  • “bo ahst zey zeymah” - come at me bro(ther)
  • “naak dii ulaan reym” - eat my entire ass
  • “vos zey naak hin reym” - lemme eat yo ass
  • “waan hi vis etaak daar hi los medliinvas” - if u can read this u r gay
  • “dii lingrahprakem dreh ni” - my anaconda don’t
  • “d'reg” - m'lady
Als een rommelig bureau symbool staat voor een rommelige geest, waar staat een leeg bureau dan symbool voor?
—  Albert Einstein

anonymous asked:

I has a sad for you. Friday and Ara watching as Fennie.... (( older Fennie like 8 yr old or something )) dies in their arms. I regret nothing owo



ara wouldn’t even be able to comprehend anything, he’d be having a panic attack to the side-


you are evil



Melanie Stone was the only daughter in her prestigious line, the last child of a millionaire business owner and his socialite wife, a woman who had family links to industries and various noble families, none of which really made a blind bit of difference nowadays but she sure did make a fuss over it.  

It was certainly part of the reason Melanie found herself in this little predicament, a valuable item of the house of a friend of a friend clutched in her arms, her sabre not at all for show but useless to her as she ran from the security guards and the youngest son of the family she’d stolen from, men she’d known in her life as the socialite daughter who failed to recognise her because of the masquerade mask practically glued to her face and the new way she wore her hair. Well, now she had no reason to bash Clark Kent and Superman, that was for sure.

As she headed for the woods - it seemed logical at the time but was certainly the folly of many a young lady in the beginning of sordid murder mysteries she’d been bored to tears by - she dropped the item, the sole thing she’d nabbed and her meal ticket for the next few weeks, if she was lucky, and though she’d evaded the security and the blind dolt of a boy, she hadn;t counted on a different, meaner threat.

Perhaps they were bounty hunters - for she had made quite a name for herself in recent weeks - seeking the sum on her head, or maybe they were thieves piggybacking off her scheme. In any case, murderous intent was glinting in their crooked teeth and the knives they wielded, and she hugged the heavy art piece to her chest, fumbling for the sabre at her hip.

She barely saw what happened when they lunged for her and she curled instinctively, carrying precious cargo she was determined to protect, becoming confused when the slice of their blades and their grabbing hands never came.

In the dark, she couldn’t see. A large man, perhaps? A challenger, coming to stake his claim? Whatever it was, she wasn’t stupid enough to hang around, waiting to find out, and she took off into the dense forest to find a safe drop-off point, and perhaps a place to rest her weary head.

Screams came soon after she bolted. Someone screamed about ‘beast from the woods’, but the words soon just became shrieks of agony, as the bounty hunters died one by one.

There was dead silence afterwards. Not counting the chirping crickets and a bird or two.

Deeper in the woods, the young thief could find a small camp. And near the camp, there was something odd… looked like a plane. Or a crashed starship, but definitely not human.

What has she got herself into…?

ik leef te intens.

wanneer ik blij ben, ben ik overgelukkig. dan zweef ik, dan leef ik en lach ik tot de zon jaloers wordt.

wanneer ik verdrietig ben, ben ik doodongelukkig. dan val ik, stort ik in en breek ik. dan heeft alles nog weinig zin.

—  en daar zit mijn probleem.

DAAR to be unique

It’s not just about grabbing the latest and greatest off the shelves because everybody else thinks it looks cool. It’s about picking the things that work as a package, even if that means going back in time and style. It needs to make sense when all the pieces are put together. Create your own style, don’t let other people pick it for you.

Ge zijt bang dat het u nooit gaat lukken hé? Dat gij uw leven lang op de rand van opgeven zult balanceren terwijl ge uw leven ongewild langs u ziet lopen. Ge zit vast in het willen maar (nog) niet kunnen en ge weet niet eens wat u tegenhoudt. Gij loopt dingen achterna die ge al lang uit het oog verloren zijt en verdwaald, daar waar men nooit zal zoeken. maar gij wilt gewoon (niet) gevonden worden.

Alduin: Sahloknir, ziil gro dovah ulse!       
Sahloknir, ever-bound dragon spirit! (spirit bound dragon eternity-of.)   
Alduin: Slen tiid vo!       
Let your flesh be restored! (Flesh against time.)   
Sahloknir: Alduin, thuri! Boaan tiid vokriiha suleyksejun kruziik?       
Alduin, my overlord! Has time come to revive the ancient realm? (Alduin, my overlord! have flown time to revive realm ancient?)   
Alduin: Geh, Sahloknir, kaali mir.       
Yes, Sahloknir, my trusted ally. (Yes, Sahloknir, my champion [of] allegiance.)   Alduin: Ful, losei Dovahkiin? Zu'u koraav nid nol dov do hi.       
So, my false Dragonborn? I do not recognize you as dragon. (So, my of-fake Dragonborn? I recognize no from dragon of you.)   
Alduin: You do not even know our tongue, do you? Such arrogance, to dare take for yourself the name of Dovah.   
Alduin: Sahloknir, krii daar joorre.       
Sahloknir, kill these mortals.