i am hilare

Imagine Lance being a total dork in his and Keith’s relationship.

Like the very first day they start dating and he and Keith are holding hands. Lance pauses, glancing down at Keith with an impish grin that already he’s fond of.

“Hey Keith, you ready to take the next step in this relationship?”

And Keith is obviously flustered because “Jesus lance we only just started dating-”

But he breaks off as Lance walks a pace; takes a legitimate ‘step’ forward.

“Hah,” he chortles. “First step in the relationship.”

“Oh my god,” Keith groans as he moves to follow Lance.

“Woah, another step! Geez Keith, better slow down-”

“You’re the worst,” Keith says, but he’s smiling nonetheless

And on it goes. Each new milestone, every little accomplishment: another step. And it’s always Lance to do it. Always him to walk them forward, mostly literally, sometimes metaphorically. 

Keith let’s him, and each time he laughs, no matter how many steps Lance has had them take now; no matter how many times he’s done the same bit.

Because Keith loves it, quite frankly, and he loves Lance. 

Finally, they’re relaxing after the war is over, days into the galaxy wide celebrations, and Lance and Keith have found a quiet corner to have for themselves, free from the revelries of the parties next door. 

And Lance is being his usual self; playing with Keith’s fingers and making his joke about taking the next step.

Only Keith holds him back. Prevents Lance from completing his joke.

“Actually, Lance, I don’t want to take the next step. I think I wanna try something else.” 

And he get’s down on one knee, clasping Lance’s hand in his own and withdrawing a small silver band from his pocket. Lance is watching with a comical mixture of awe and surprise; tears beginning to form in his ducts.

“Lance, will you marry me?”

And then Lance is laughing, and it startles Keith for a moment until Lance himself is kneeling, pulling out his own ring from his pocket, and grinning as wet droplets cascade down his cheeks.

“I was just about to ask you that,” he chuckles, and now Keith is beaming as well. “You stole my bit.”

“Yeah well,” Keith replies, shuffling closer. “Say yes, and what’s yours becomes mine.”

Lance follows suite, until their foreheads are touching and the words they share are heard only by them.

“Pretty sure it’s ‘what’s mine is yours’.”

And Keith feels his eyes begin to shut; tilting his jaw upwards to meet Lance halfway.

“It already was,” he breathes. “Ever since that first step.”

They don’t go back to the party after that.

y’all i love lena luthor. 

the way she set lillian up was so unecessarily theatrical and like she went out of her way to get maximum dramatic climax. like iirc l-corp is the only source of the isotope so she could have just destroyed/moved it all and told lillian to go fuck herself in her office. but no. she staged this evil bonding moment (ask me to help u and i will) and even after effectively thwarting the plan, she made sure to put on her villainy I’m A Luthor show for kara knowing good and damn well the virus wasnt going to work no matter who pushed the button. let kara fly after a giant missle which then exploded in her face just so she could stand there and watch lillian’s reaction as she realized. like…who does that?? just to send an especially large fuck u to Evil Mom on thanksgiving. honestly, she could have called the cops 3.5 scenes ago what a drama queen. 


Teachers: Simon in Every Episode

    ↳ 1x04


“ahh Jemma Redgrave, she’s a fine looking big woman isn’t she? a big darling!” 

“now I always think that Jemma looks like she’s being embraced by a midget wearing nail polish there” *laughter* …“she’s being embraced by Imelda Staunton”..


p.s ^ Notable appearance by Louise Delamere who played Colette in Holby city, who I shipped so hard with Serena I can’t explain. And yes that is Rupert Giles s h o o k e t h. Did I mention the film also stars Charlotte Church??

*All quotes by director Craig Ferguson and some other producer dude*


lol @ antis being so desperate they’d spam the shit out of an irrelevant poll just to prove a non-point that ultimately decides nothing.

Also if that scene is really nothing to worry about (re: misdirection or “Dark Side temptation”/Luke-Vader scene parallel), why are y’all so concerned with making it look like this fandom wasn’t utterly SHOOK by that part of the trailer?

Ben Wyatt:  *looks into the camera like he’s on The Office*

Originally posted by adamscottblog

Yu-Gi-Oh! Cards Against Humanity Headcanons

I love the things my brain comes up with in the shower.

  • Yami convincing Kaiba to play because it’s a game for assholes.
  • Tristan generally playing the worst cards (but occasionally has a really good one).
  • Duke and Tea always trying to play the dirtier cards.
  • Both Yami Marik and Bakura will always pick whoever played “multiple stab wounds” regardless of their prompt.
  • Joey busting a gut laughing when he draws “What’s Batman’s guilty pleasure?” and someone plays “dead parents”. Kaiba tries not to laugh.
  • Yami completely losing his shit when Kaiba draws “How did I lose my virginity?” because he has the blank white card he drew on to look like Blue-Eyes White Dragon and he can’t be stopped from playing it.
  • Afterwards, whenever they duel and Kaiba plays his Blue-Eyes, there’s always an uncomfortable silence before Yami loses his shit every time.
  • This card is also played if Kaiba draws “During sex, I like to think about _______.”
  • When Tea plays “I never truly understood _____ until I encountered _____” Kaiba plays “Poor life choices” and “Strong female characters.”
  • “A pyramid of severed heads” always wins the point if Yami is the card czar.

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3

Strawberries and Snakes

Self-indulgent drabble featuring my apprentice Selendri and our beloved Doctor Devorak.
DISCLAIMER: The Nevivon dialect is entirely made up.

-So… Selendri- Julian says, as he leans across the table, hands interlocked under his chin. He nearly dips an elbow in his empty dish, but avoids it at the very last moment and gestures for a maid to take away our dinner leftovers.
-That’s my name- I confirm.
-Just Selendri? No surname, no patronymic, nothing?
-I… don’t really know- defty hands gather our cutlery, pile up our bowls and sweep the table with our napkins, fluttering between us like butterflies. When they’re gone, Julian is scratching awkwardly at his nape, eyes on the table.
-Sorry, I didn’t mean to be tactless.
-Oh, nothing to worry about – Asra calling my name is the first memory I have of my present life. As I heard it, recognizing it as my own had felt like catching it by the tail before it went down a drain: a second too late and it would have meant nothing to me. All the rest was gone. –One name is better than none. We can say that I travel light-
-Unlike me- he grins, sloping sideways to ease his back against the wall of our booth. The Rowdy Raven is starting to fill up, but we came here quite early for the dinner and we had the luxury of this secluded spot, high backrested benches covered in something that might had been padding once and a table far too long for two, but slightly too short to host four guests. The uttermost privacy achievable at the tavern.
-Yes, unlike you, doctor Jules-Julian-Ilya Devorak - I intended to mock him, but I didn’t expect him to laugh so much: he’s snorting into his own hand trying to hide away his mouth. –Come on, that was cold. What are you snickering at? You cannot be that drunk!
-Aaaah, gods. Sorry. No, really, but… can you say that again? My name. Please?
-Julian? No? Ah, Ilya? Ilya Devorak – another shower of giggles.
-I beg your pardon, I know – he pants inbetween fits of hilarity. –I am despicably rude, but… what has my poor name done to you, for being butchered so badly? It’s barely a couple of sounds and you managed to get them all wrong!
I sip my beer, frowning.
-Ilya- I try again.
-Ilya. Look – he points a finger to his mouth, craning his neck towards me. –Your tongue should squish the first sound against your palate. C’mon.
He waves his hands expectantly and I repeat my performance as he looks intently at my mouth, lips a thin line of disproportioned concentration.
-Ok, now – he pauses to gulp down the remains of his beer.- The L sound is wrong: you are squashing it under your tongue. Try to just… ting! Give it a quick touch. Like a piano key. Ilya.
Two beers land on the table, seemingly uninvited. I strain to finish mine and challenge myself again in this pronounce quest.
-Heh, now it sounds like a D. Pay attention: Ilya. Ilya. Llll…see?
His head is tilted backwards as he shows me his mouth, pale lips retracted up the teeth. I can see the tip of his tongue dancing in the crimson darkness just behind. His nose curls up slightly each time he hits that L sound. I can feel my dedication to the cause sliding every second farther as my eyes catch his throat moving, his eyelashes casting a shadow on his cheekbone. My nose catches a whiff of his scent rising from the collar of his shirt.
-Enough- I cut abruptly. – It’s clear I can’t do that properly.
-It’s not your fault – he smiles. – My granma always said that you don’t have the right shape of the tongue.
-Haha, no: te Ovstreentje. The foreigners – he translates with a comic, sharp accent. I snort disdaintfully.
-As far as I know, I could be from Nevivon as well.
-With those hair? Unlikely. It would defy all the laws of genetic. And the tongue is the wrong shape, I bet on that.
-And what shape is supposed to be the right one, pray please?
-We have pointy tongues – Julian states in a dignified way. He then proceeds to unroll his tongue in my direction.
-Wow. I have to admit that it’s almost… triangular – and quite long. And rosy. Damn, I’m drunk.
-Your turn now.
-Oh, please, it’s not funny anymore…
-It’s not funny: it’s science. I am a doctor. Say aaaaah…
And I oblige, making a point of looking away as Julian peers into my mouth.
-Aaaah – he sighs dreamily. – Your tongue looks just like a strawberry. I can picture it poking through tiny green leafs in the undergrowth.
-This is… an extremely bizarre thing to say. On the verge of creepiness.
-That so? – There is a sprinkle of blush on the bridge of his nose, and his eye is bright and glimmering. He’s relaxed and having fun, and I perceive that it’s a priceless sight.
-We must be quite a show - I snicker. – Two grown-ups showing each other their tongue.
-We’re at the Raven: that’s just one step away from what grown-ups usually do with their tongues in here – there’s a carnivore vibrato in his voice that triggers several reactions in my body and I sit very still to undergo each of them without showing.
Then Julian beams up and leaves the table without a word. When he returns, he puts two small glasses of liquor in front of each other. Mine’s bright red.
-A symbolic enclosure to our dinner – he says lifting his glass. –Yours’ strawberry.
-Oooh, I see - I laugh. – And yours?
-Well, they didn’t have anything made from triangles, so… Diss iss made of sssnakesss – he shakes his glass slightly and something sloshes inside, tiny particles… scales? I think of Faust and my face falls down a little, but the thought of her killed just to brew an extravagant liquor saddens me a bit. It must show on my face, because Julian quickly adds:
-No snakes that we know personally, of course. Or related to them. Only unpleasant, hostile snakes. Venomous ones. Actually, it might be just eel brand. Never saw a snake in its whole life. Can I still drink it? Please? I’ve already paid for it – his pleading face steals me a laughter.
-Of course, but leave a sip for me; now I’m curious.
Julian winks and we cling our glasses. My liquor is syrupy and entirely too sweet; it tastes predictably of that flavor they call “strawberry”, but has nothing to do with the actual fruit. I empty it anyway, out of courtesy, and smack my lips over and over to get rid of that coating feeling.
-It tinted your mouth – smirks Julian. His face is flush red and his eyes are luster; his drink might have been really strong. – I figured it. Now you’re truly gonna look like a strawberry.
-You emptied your glass! How am I gonna taste it now?
Julian plants his palms on the table, startling me.
-Here – he breathes, leaning across the table. His fingers slide along my jawline, up behind my ears; his murmur is so low I can feel it vibrating in his hands. – I’ll show you.

solitudeontatooine  asked:

Okay listen, Ahsoka is Struggling™ during the clone wars, between Anakin 'live bugs definitely count as food' Skywalker, Obi-Wan 'this granola bar should be sufficient nutrients for the week' Kenobi, and all of the clones, who grew up on ration bars. Sometimes a girl just wants some lasagna, you know?

Hahahaha oh GOD poor Ahsoka. I’m imagining this in like a road trip scenario where they’re all on a ship together. 

Ahsoka: Hey look, Masters! That sign over there says we’re just about to drive past a Biscuit Baron! Can we stop?
Anakin: Eh. They don’t have worms on their menu. I can hang on until we get to the Outer Rim and swing by a bait shop. 
Ahsoka: [shuddering] M-Master Kenobi, don’t you…?
Obi-Wan: [looking up from a datapad] Hmm? Biscuit Baron? [confused] Why, are you hungry? We just ate, didn’t we?
Ahsoka: Master that was 12 hours ago! [looks helplessly at Rex]
Rex: [throws a ration bar at her] Here y’are, Commander Tano. That oughta tide you over. Always does the trick for me. 
Ahsoka: [stares sadly out the window, chewing her ration bar, as they blow right past the Biscuit Baron]

Quoth the Raven, on Twitter
“i know this is mean but this makes me so sad”

I really try not to hate on anything, and I have been obsessed with a lot of things and I get it but I am dying at these comments. Like I was wheezing and crying and had to close my office door so people wouldn’t ask if something was wrong. So good.


a second part to the thing i made awhile ago
(click to enlarge)
and no, you can’t include 50+ years of film-making without making it look like an insane mess (trust me, i’ve tried)


i have a shit ton of rec lists, take your pick.

tygermama  asked:

but as pre-teen to teenage Mandalorians, wouldn't the Clones run the risk of thinking Anakin's poetry is good? I remember how angsty I was at that age and well....

HAHAHAHA oh GOD so the 501st ends up FRICKING LOVING Anakin’s shitty, dramatic teenage poems and they’re straight-up genuinely grateful to Obi-Wan for sending them the link. He emails it to them all and every reply back is like “These are beautiful! Thanks for sharing, General Kenobi!” “brb guys tears General Skywalker these are so good???? omg” “u put the words OF MY SOUL on the page general ilu” “THIS IS WHY I’D FOLLOW YOU INTO ANY BATTLE YOU ARE AN ARTIST WITH A PURE SOUL”. Rex gets a tattoo one of one of the lines from a particularly angsty poem on his arm.