how to bet on horse racing

AAAAAAAAA!!!! Thank you Anon!!!!!!
I tried to make him sweet and romantic like you wanted, but keep him in character, so he’s still super sassy.

Have fun you two!


“Are you willing to go out this weekend?”

“Sure, I’ve got nothing else going on. Whose all coming?” Your back turned to him, you load the washing machine in the empty laundry area on base.

“Me.” He states plainly, leaning on a machine behind you.

You pause for a moment, then continue your chore. “Just you?”

“Just me.”

“So, you mean, like a date then?” You close the lid, and fiddle with the dials to distract yourself.


You turn around and see him, with crossed arms, looking at you. “Alright, I’m game.” You say, trying to sound confident. He hums and you offer a smile, nervous in nature, pick up your basket, and go on your way. “I’ll see you then.”


Casual. You could do casual. Or, wait. How casual should it be. Like, normal casual? Maybe you should try to look a little nicer. But, what if he didn’t and you ended up looking like an over prepared doof? You groan, debating over a nice jacket, or a comfortable sweatshirt.

This is ridiculous.

You mull over your choices for a bit longer before you glance at the time and realize that you need to go.

Jacket it is.

“Took you long enough.”

“I’m, like, two minutes late.” You ague once the car that dropped you off left. It was a real pain to get out of the base sometimes, safety protocol proving itself to be annoying as always.

“I got here on time.” He begins to walk down the road and you follow, putting your hands in your pockets in attempt to keep them warm. You take this moment of silence to study him, relishing in the time you get to see him outside of his normal combat attire. It was no surprise that he had a hood on, but doubling it surgical mask, left most of his face obscured to the public.

“Sooooo…” You begin.


“Where we goin’?”

“A carnival. It’s suppose to only be here for the weekend.” He glances over to you, noticing how you rub your hands frantically together. “Here,” he takes off his gloves and hands them over, “I don’t need these.”

“Oh, thanks.” You swiftly put them on, feeling silly for forgetting your own.

“You really should’ve worn a thicker jacket.” You face him again, but he looks away. “That one’s nice, but doesn’t look very warm.”

“I’ll be fine.” You assure him. He huffs, not wanting to press further.


“I bet I could hit more targets than you.” You almost pull him to the shooting booth, wiggling your eyebrows.

“I don’t use weapons built for accuracy.”

“Then I’ll win something just for you.” You joke. “What’d ya want? The rastafari banana? Or maybe the blow-up Spider-Man hammer?”

“How ‘bout we play that instead.” He points over to a horse racing booth. “Who ever loses pays for food.”

“Deal!” You sit next to each other, and as other people fill in the few remaining seats, you inspect the game. It was basically mini skeeball; the higher your score, the faster your horse ran.

An easy win.


“Honestly, I think that guy who got first was jipped. The 'light-sword’ is much better than that big dolphin he got.” You swish your sword around nonchalantly as you spoke. Dusk was well underway, letting the glow it emitted be much more visible.

“A missed opportunity, really.” Reaper commented, amusement lacing his voice. You chew on you food, setting your prize to the side.

“You sure you’re not hungry?”

He nods. “Not a fan of carnival food.”

“Then why’d you make the bet?”

“So you’d let me buy you food.” He waves his hand lazily side to side, “Don’t get me wrong,” he leans onto the table, “if I wanted to, I would’ve demolished you.” You can’t see his mouth, but you know he’s smirking.


“Together or separate?” He asks as you both wait in line for the bumper cars.

“Separate. It’s no fun unless we both get to drive.” When the worker opens the gate, you squeeze your way to the first open car of your favorite color. He nabs a dark red one that was frozen bumping into yours, and as soon as the cars were allowed to move, he slammed onto the gas petal, veering you to the left.

“You were right. This is more fun.” He taunts. You decided to back up without notice, causing him to bump into a dad and his kid that were on the other side of you.

“So long sucker!” You boast, circling around him, only to immediately get stuck between two other cars. “Help me sucker!”

He slams into one, braking the three of you free. Your thanks is cut off by him forcibly turning his wheel to the right, pushing you against the wall. He chuckles and turns away with a sarcastic, “You’re welcome.”

Oh, he was not getting away with that!


A shiver goes through you. Guess Reaper was right about bringing a thicker jacket. In your defense, it’s a lot colder than the weatherman said it would be.

“You’re super cheesy, you know that?” You pull your arms closer to your body, trying not to show how cold you really were.

“And?” He taps on his phone, angled in a way that you couldn’t quite see what was on the screen.

He lets you step into the cart first, before settling beside you and allowing you to rest your sword across the both of you to fit.

“Making the last ride be the Farris wheel? What, were you born in the 80’s?” You rest your arm on the bar, then your head on that and smile at him.

He closes his phone and exhales loudly through his nose, “Looks like I’ve been found out.” He quips.

You start your assent backwards, and you stare in awe at the lights around you. “Woah, it looks so cool from up here!” You point down below, “Hey, look! That guy has the same jacket as you.”

“I wear it better.” He snorts, completely serious. “That kid just ate it.” He states, moving your attention to the teen getting up off the floor.

“At least their smoothie survived.” You nod. He lets out a short laugh and agrees.


The walk back to the pickup area is pleasantly quiet. He lets you take the first car, and you thank him for the fun night, agreeing that it should happen again soon.

Your first thoughts upon arriving at the base were of sleep, however entering your room reviled a package resting on your bed.

Curious, you open it and read the note printed out and taped to the plastic inside.

“Next time, wear something that’ll keep you warm.” You pull out a heavy jacket from inside, styled similarly to the one you had on.


Not the most romantic, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ it seemed more fun than a fancy dinner. (Now I wanna go to a carnival.)

I should go to bed now.


“Iron Lady” - [Jeremy Irons / Tom Hiddleston - Multi-chapter].

Summary: Widower Jeremy, falls for and marries his son’s friend despite tripling her age. And just a few years later, his health problems and the return of his best friend, Tom, to London, make him doubt his marriage and wonder if his wife would be better off with a younger man like his friend.

Chapter IV: “Berries”.

Previous chapter(s): 1.”Horses”. // 2.”Books”. // 3.”Wine”

Written by: A.Wölf.


How’s the Mrs.?” asked the lawyer while writing something down on his agenda instead of making eye contact with his client who had just taken a seat across from him in his office.

“Winning a bet at a horse race I’m sure”, Jeremy answered causing him to let out a chuckle.

“As it should be. How can I help you, Jeremy?”

He pulled an envelope from his coat and slid it across the desk before saying,

“I would like to make a few changes to my will”.

The lawyer finally stopped writing and opened it. But it wasn’t until he read its content that he, at last, glanced up at his client with a curious expression.

“Is there something you’d like to tell me?”

“Just being cautious, Sam”.

“Are you sure about this? I mean it’s an awful lot of money and-”

“Yes, I’m sure”, Jeremy answered cutting him off, “I’m not getting any younger”.

The lawyer gave a slight shrug.

“As you wish”, he said moving files and papers around, “I’ll make the changes and call you in a few days so you can revise them and sign”.

Jeremy opened the fridge to pour himself a glass of orange juice and quench his thirst after the difficult morning jog. The chest massage seemed to dull the pain but he kept on going at a slower pace nevertheless.

Keep reading

Imagine suggesting Tommy a plan on how to beat Sabini and his men

Originally posted by lifetime-of-wishes

Originally posted by mickeyandmumbles

Tommy sat down smoking a cigarette, his gaze wandering to the window:
“Sabini and his pasta bastards will never go away won’t they?”
Talking out his thoughts he started to pinch his eyes trying to find a solution.
“The horse race.” you said, Tommys attention now layed on you, his look asking for an explanation.
“We will make trouble on the other side of the place while burning all of Sabinis licenses for the bets on the other one, sending all of his men all the way down to hell with cartridges.” your eyes layed on the floor now looking up to Tommy waiting for his verdict on your plan.
He smiled, “That’s good,no..even better than that.”He squeezed his cigarette into the ashtray, his stare meeting yours, a grin across his face.
Welcome to the Peaky Blinders.

the races | alfie solomons

*shrugs* it’s race day

“I was about to send out a search party for you, love”

“Caught a girl I used to know on the way back, we got chatting. Here’s your slip”

Alfie took the paper from between your pinched fingers and shuffled over to make space for you in the crowd.

“This ain’t my horse”

“Yes it is”

“No, I asked you to put it on Tw-“

“I know, but this is better, trust me”

He studied the ticket again before leaning down to your ear.

“Why…why the hell does this have one of Sabini’s men on it? What the fuck you doing giving my money to-“

“Trust me”

Keep reading


Requested by Anon and @theaqueenakaspeedy  - Finn Shelby #9 please
Prompts – 9 – ‘Stop getting us kicked out of grocery stores.’

Word Count – 642

Characters – Finn x Reader

You had decided that you would go shopping today and Finn agreed to come with you, you had gotten ready and were waiting for Finn to come back from the family meeting to get you. You were gathering your bag when the front door opened and he walked in.
‘Hey, you ready?’ He asked, you stood up foxed your dress.
‘Yeah, let’s go.’ You said with a smile. You were out the door and he closed it behind you. Once he was beside you again, he interlocked his arms with yours.
‘So how was the meeting?’ You asked him. He looked down at you and smiled.
‘It was okay.’
‘Only okay? Nothing exciting, no plans?’ You questioned him. He shook his head.
‘No today was actually about the horses and the bets.’ Finn said as he looked forward.
‘Okay.’ You responded back. he looked down at you.
‘How was your day?’ He asked you.
‘So crazy.’ You told him, he raised an eyebrow.
‘I got up, got ready and sat on the couch, waiting for someone to pick me up.’ You said with a smile. He chuckled and pulled you into the shop. You brought out the list of items you needed and went to the aisles that contained them.

You had lost Finn on the second isle as he walked away, but you could tell he was close by the angry shouts. You hurried around the corner to see him red faced. You rushed up between him and the man that was shouting back.
‘What is going on?’ You asked the both of them, as a small crowd was staring to gather.
‘He stole something of mine.’ The tall, dark haired man said.
‘And what would that be.’ You asked him, standing tall.
‘Money.’ The man said and Finn scoffed behind you.
‘When and how did you he steal your money, sir?’ You asked him.
‘Two weeks ago, I was in his shop and I was to get money back from the races but he said he didn’t have it.’ He said and you smiled slightly.
‘Two weeks ago, who did you place the bet on?’ You asked him, he looked at you as if you were stupid.
‘Answer the lady.’ Finn said from behind you. The man looked at him before turning back to you.
‘Pavilion.’ He said. You smirked. You stepped forward.
‘Sir, that horse did not win, didn’t even come third. I believe it actually came second to last.’ You said to him.
‘Liar.’ He screamed and raised his fist, but Finn move you out the way and punched him. This caused them to turn into a full-blown fight in the middle of the isles. It was only stopped as the store owner came in with two tall men. Once they were pulled away from each other, the owner turned to me.
‘You and your boyfriend get out and don’t come back.’ He said angrily. You scowled at him but nodded, leading Finn away.

Once you were outside Finn burst out laughing but stopped when you whacked him across the chest.
‘Ow, what was that for?’ He asked you as he rubbed his chest.
‘Stop getting us kicked out of grocery stores.’ You said to him as now you had to find another place to get your list of items.
‘Sorry.’ He said as he took in your disappointed face.
‘That won’t help, I now have to go out of town to get food because of you.’ You said to him as you started walking away. He ran up beside you and
‘I’ll make it up to you?’ He stated.
‘How?’ You asked him.
‘I’ll drive you there, how many time and for the littles things.’ He said you stopped and he tripped up to stop, but faced you.
‘Anytime, anywhere?’ You asked. He nodded and you smiled.

Originally posted by finnshelby1920s

Loretta's Old Dialogue
  • Loretta: What? Yes, I’m Loretta, and who are you? Not that I care… (y/n)? That’s your name? Really. Well, it sounds very… very pretty and intelligent. Oh my… (y/n). I bet your horse’s name is just as lame. I bet it’s like… Puffyheart or something. (Horse's name)? Ha! I’m psychic!
  • So what are you doing here, anyway? Jenna told you I was going to teach you how to compete? Great. You know what, actually I’m kind of bored right now, so why not. You and (Horse's name) should try racing some in the paddock. Who knows, maybe it’ll make me smile. At your fantaaaastically faaaaast speed. I can already tell that you’ll never make into the club. You’re still here? I thought I told you that you could try out our paddock already. What is it you don’t understand? Come on already! Get to the starting line!
  • I forgot to note the objectives and rewards of this one, sorry!
  • Quest: Completed
  • Loretta: Ok, that wasn’t too bad for a beginner. I’ll admit that I wasn’t super good at controlling my horse when I first came here, either. All that will change when you get more experienced and acquire better equipment. You’ll never be a Bobcat Girl however, that’s for sure.
  • More Quests: Completed
  • Loretta: Just a minute! One more thing: keep away from Justin. He’s mine and nobody will ever come between us. Not that there’s any chance that he would ever be interested in… somebody like you.
  • .
  • .
  • .
  • Credit:

eatingcroutons  asked:

"Emotional terrorism" is actually a common term for the behaviour the-reylo-void is describing; if you Google it you'll find plenty of articles and discussions about it.

Okay, thanks for letting me know, this is legit. I’m glad to know the OP didn’t just make that up. That said, a pattern of hateful, disproportionate lashing out by someone overinvested in anti-shipping is not really the same thing as a concentrated campaign of emotional manipulation, blackmail, gaslighting, conditioning, and abuse from one person in a relationship toward their victim(s), with the goal of emotionally crippling the victim and making them dependent on the abuser.

Here is the thing. I do not trust people on this website not to throw around terms, even marginally applicable ones, that include the word “terrorism” for exactly the reasons the OP said: righteous anger and demonizing your opponent makes you feel better and gets you brownie points on tumblr dot com. It’s like how I’ve seen the word “klan” applied to users who do things like not drawing the human version of a Crystal Gem as the “right” race, because apparently that’s the same thing as killing another human being for their skin color.

I’m not really mad at the OP. I’m just frustrated that the tumblr fandom culture of “most woke wins” is so pervasive that even a post with the perfectly reasonable goal of asking people not to be frothingly hateful is framed so that if you’re doing the thing in question, you’re a psychological abuser.

  • Elf: I would love to watch you arm wrestle this guy here.
  • Griffin: And the guy he motions to is a goliath, which is a race in DnD 5E that is, as the name might denote, a big race.
  • Elf: I enjoy wagers, so uh how much you willing to bet on your horse there, dwarf guy?
  • Merle: *bluffing terribly* I dunno, I mean, you sure you want to take that on? Your guy looks pretty much like wimp compared to my boy Magnus. Isn't that right, fella?
  • Magnus: Uhh, yeah...
  • Elf: I mean that's just factually inaccurate. You can look at him.

Off to the Races: A Horseman Betting Pool

“Honestly what good is a horse race if you can’t bet on it?” —De, probably.

So, because we play our Horsemen reveals close to the chest and shrouded in mystery wrapped in riddles hidden in secrets, the idea that horses should be bet on arose in our community. Unlike War, we are opening bets for Famine at the start of the season, before you have too much information. As such… we’re opening a betting pool through the Pulpit.

How do I play?

At the start of a new season, you message the Pulpit with who you think will be revealed as the vessel at the end of that season. 

  • You have one week to place your bet. One bet per player.
  • You place your bet by messaging Pulpit with who you think the vessel is.
  • We keep tally of who betted on whom. After the reveal, winners are announced.

The betting for Famine will open today and close on June 10th.

What do I win?

Okay, so the caveat is this: betting, naturally, has a cost. So, by submitting a bet, you are “betting” one creative. You agree to contribute one thing you make to the betting pool when the winner is announced. The thing can be anything you feel comfy making—a drabble, a playlist, an aesthetic, a mood board, etc—for whomever the winner is. You have one week after the winner is announced to make your creative… if you lost the bet.

If you won the bet, you will have however many people were betters, making tons of things for your muse! The amount you receive is proportional, like an actual betting pool. So if there is only one winner—one person who guessed right—they will receive the most creatives. If there are many winners, the total creatives will be tallied up between them.

Special notes:

* Please, please, please, keep betting pool hunches out of your in-character writing. Just because you as a player might have an idea on what the Admins are angling for, that doesn’t mean your muse would know. You have much more information to work through than your muse does! Thank you!

danguy96  asked:

It looks like Labour is in the lead. Does that mean Corbyn is going to become PM? If so, then I feel bad for the UK (I mean, I'd also feel bad if May was put in, but Corbyn just sounds far, FAR worse from what I hear).

Update: Well, I stand corrected. It seems that May is in the lead now. Figures. It seems like this was a pretty close election, and a pretty idiotic one as well. It may be because I’m an American, but I honestly didn’t have a winning horse in this race. Oh well, how much do you bet that there are going some major regime changes and resigning of the current leaders of the parties in a couple of years? Something is bound to happen after this mess, I can tell you that.

I’ll answer this here because I have a lot of messages from non-UK users who are totally confused by our election process.

In Parliament, we have a total of 650 seats. A party wins outright if they gain 326 seats, because then they have overall control of Parliament.

If a party wins the majority of seats but doesn’t get 326 – right at this second, the Conservatives have 315, with 4 seats left to call – they have a few options.

  • They could decide to rule as a minority government, which would mean that it’s harder for them to pass laws through the House of Commons because they don’t have enough MPs to force through votes.
  • They could negotiate with other parties to form a coalition government to push the number of seats that they get to over 326, which will mean that they’ve won together outright and can form a full government.
  • If they can’t make a government, the second-largest party could attempt to form a coalition – but that’s much more difficult, as they’d need more than one smaller party to join a coalition with them, and it’s not guaranteed that the public would accept it, because they clearly lost.
  • There could also be a second General Election.

I predict that May will either form a minority government or work with the DUP, since they have 10 seats.

But as for the sudden influx of Labour votes at the beginning of the night: the constituencies that vote for Labour are the ones that tend to just come through first. The North-East is Labour heartland, so that’s pretty much always expected.

Liar! Uncover the Truth 4th Liar: Money Can’t Buy Me Love! Walkthrough

Please only click “keep reading” if you already know/ are willing to know who the Liar is as before you start accusing you must first select the liar!

Note that this is translated from JP Doubt so wording is not exact until I’ve run the game, however A/B/C choices are guaranteed Official translations are up now.

As always, please don’t spoil for others.

Points Needed:
S rank: 1800 Cool Points + 220 Savvy Points
A rank: 2000 Cool Points + 80 Savvy Points
B rank: 1650 Cool Points + 40 Savvy Points
C rank: 700 Cool Points + 20 Savvy Points

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I think one of the saddest moments in life is when you get a text message and check it but it turns out it was from your cell phone provider or someone advertising something.  It really makes me sad when it happens to me because I usually get my hopes up that it is someone who actually wants to hang out with me or something but it almost never is.  I also get mad at myself for repeatedly getting my hopes up when I know I shouldn’t.

Do you think there will be a time, about thirty years from now, when the President stops making public appearances?  Think about it.  The growing trend in the use of militarized drones, the advancement of robotic technology, the growth of anonymity on the Internet.  All serve to create danger for a President.  A sniper can be spotted by a counter-sniper but can a robotic gun with no heat signature and no movement be located and taken out?  How could the Secret Service possibly defend the president in an era when almost everyone has a personal drone and some of them are militarized?

I never liked playing the Battleship board game.  It’s stressful and difficult.  Even if you adopt an efficient search pattern you can still easily lose just because your opponent gets lucky.  The only fun part of that game is setting up your ships. 

I’ve always wondered who makes the clip art images.  And what is clip art?  Is that a brand name like Kleenex that has just entered the common lexicon?  I feel like brands like Kleenex are angry that their brand has become a common name for an object, but I think it would benefit them in the long run.

Betting on horse races is strange because they give everyone pretty much the same access to information about the horses’ odds and histories.  The whole point of investing is profiting off of information imbalances.  You can win at the stock market by knowing a lot more than the person you’re buying from or selling to, but with horse racing everyone is pretty much on an even footing.  Also why horses and why racing?  I’d like to see a cattle swimming arena, where you place a bet on Bessie and get to watch her lap a shallow pool.  Maybe they could put a barrel of grass in front of their mouths to get them to swim, like the whole donkey and carrot thing.  Isn’t it weird how the donkey/carrot metaphor exists when I’d wager so few of us ever see donkeys, let alone see them eating carrots?

“Love Is A Gamble”

I’ve now been fed this line by multiple men on various online dating sites after telling them I’m not interested, and I find it such an interesting line. Particularly because I always politely provide a reason I’m not interested. They include:

  • I am not looking for anything long-distance right now.
  • You’re a bit older/younger than the range I’m comfortable with
  • I’ve looked through your profile, and we disagree on some major issues

And then I wish them luck. And most of the time, they’ll wish me luck as well and we’ll both move on with our lives. But then there are the ones who come out with some variation on this line. Whether it’s because they don’t think they’re too young or old for me, they think I should overlook the fact that I live in San Francisco and they live in Kyrgyzstan, or whatever.

“Love is a gamble,” they say.

The thing that they don’t know is that they’re saying that to someone who’s been educated in what it means to gamble.

My father sat me down with The Daily Racing Form when I was nine years old and showed me how to read a horse’s past performances. How to judge the length of the race, the state of the track, and the quality of the competition to make an educated guess about how a horse might do in today’s race. He taught me how to bet. How to figure out where my $2 might not go to waste. And when I was older he explained to me about house odds at casinos. Where not to throw my money away, and where the house had the least advantage.

All those things you say (or don’t say) in your profile and question responses, that’s my racing form now.

And sure, some days you just can’t resist the lure of a horse who looks good or whose name is just too clever. Sometimes you’re willing to believe that the next deal is gonna give you the hot hand. But a good gambler knows how to judge the odds and when not to take a bad bet.

So men, when you’re years outside my age range, 5,000 miles away, or of the firm opinion that my friends shouldn’t be allowed to get married or adopt children (or ya know, that no means something other than no), don’t come at me with “love is a gamble” like it’s some kind of dare. Because I know a shill when I see one, and I’m no sucker.

anonymous asked:

What is one of the most embarrassing dreams you've ever had? (The other boys can chime in too :)

JACK: I dreamed I showed up to brand calves wearin’ my scab suit an’ ridin’ a fancy Thoroughbred, like the muckity-mucks in Central Park.

RACE: That’s nothin’.

JACK: …It was a sidesaddle.


MUSH: You can ride sidesaddle, Jack?

JACK: I ain’t tried.  —Bet I could, though.


BLINK:I dreamed that the mayor’s daughter was 85…and I married her anyway.

SPOT: Did you know she was 85?

BLINK: No, but I found out when she pulled off her veil at the altar.  Her wig came with it.

MUSH: That’s terrible!

JACK: That’s not embarrassin’, that’s terrifyin’.

RACE: I had a dream that I was in a horse race, an’ you know how little kids’ll play horses, like makin’ that gallop sound?  That’s how I was runnin’.

MUSH: I dreamed about a tiny dog going shopping.

BLINK: …That’s embarrassing?

MUSH: Yeah!  It couldn’t see over the counter.

BUMLETS: I had a dream I forgot to put on my clothes an’ went out to sell papes.  No one told me.

MUSH: I’d tell you, Bum.

BUMLETS: Thanks.

DUTCHY: I had a dream I was givin’ a speech, ‘cept Jack wrote it.

JACK: It must’ve been good, then.

DUTCHY: No, it kept mentionin’ cowboys an’ stuff I didn’t understand.  Like old battles an’ stuff.

JACK: A real good speech.

DUTCHY: An’ people’d ask me questions about ‘em an’ I’d just make stuff up an’ I sounded dumb.

JACK: If I wrote the speech, you were probably safe.

SPECS: I dreamed I forgot my glasses an’ kept runnin’ into stuff.  Then I realized I was actually awake an’ it was actually goin’ on.

SWIFTY: I don’t really remember my dreams…except one had to do with a turkey.  I think I was stealin’ it and it got up an’ walked away.  But was a cooked turkey.

SPOT: That’s just messed up.

JACK: What’s your most embarrassin’ dream, Spot?

SPOT: I dreamed I was from Manhattan.

Lmayo, you can tell when I’m in to a series cuz my art style isn’t so consistent.
THIS MONTH: It’s all about Fire Emblem Awakening.

On a bit more serious note: I want you all to sincerely have this gift.

DATE: 09/11/2016

Not many will read what I have to say, and maybe hate will come???
but either way…

If you took the time to read all of it, THANK YOU SO MUCH! I will try to keep making them comics in hopes that’ll brighten up your night or day. I’ll try to avoid sad posts on my happy… happy… blog????

I Have a Thought… 

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aspiring-procrastinator said: *JOINS YOU IN SCREAMING INTO THE VOID*



W E ALL F ucking scream into the perpetual void over what could have been and what was indeed not the final result of A Tale of Two Stans. This day will forever live on in epiphany as the two parter that could have been but never was. When will our in-depth explanations and extra bits of information return from the war. Stanley was meant to have glasses all along. He was suppose to have braces and ruffly fluffy hair instead of slicked back hair and bright straight pearly whites. Stanford was going to actually react to what Fiddleford was telling him about the portal. Stanford was going to say something else entirely when Fiddleford came out and in turn so was Fiddleford. Stanley tried betting at a horse race on a horse named Paycheck and lost. Stanley said he was going to call his Dad about how things were going but we all know how the fuck things were going because their Dad kicked him out of the house and didn’t give two shits about hearing back from his son. He was going to sell 3 designer Sham Totals in three different colors like Royal Purple and Rick Red or something. Stanley worked with Bobby Renzobbie all along. We would have gotten to see younger Manly Dan up close. All around me are familiar faces worn out places worn ou

demangelon567  asked:

hey romancedy i'm sure you already know that golden pen and doctor winged cross are dating so i'm curious did you you by chance make any sort of bets on them getting together and if so how much have you won? and how many suckers were dumb enough to bet against the great matchmaker herself?

Romancedy: Shipping bets are after all a great way to make money~ But oh how wonderful it is that the ship has sailed ~

It’s funny how poetry is a madman’s game-
and a woman’s bet on his odds.
A horse race where the jockeys are our bare hearts-
Where a trip and a fall would spell out death and disaster. 
And in the end of each verse and stanza-
there’s a trap he sets hoping to catch someone.
And not just someone - But the One.
This is not a game that muscle will win-
but a chess-like precision where words fall into line like battle formations.
Words that spell out check.
And mate.
—  •••IconBrown - The Love Olympics