i have another one coming up

Bartender!Ignis AU [cont.]

A continuation to This right here! this one is a bit long, my apologies.

So the next day Ignis notices Gladio didn’t show up the entire night. Ignis just assumes he’ll be coming after hours for a change. But Gladio never shows up. Ignis grows a bit worried so Ignis texts Gladio but never gets a response. Another day passes and there’s no sign of Gladio anywhere near the bar. Not a single text or call is answered.

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How Dan and Phil probably broke up #61
  • <p> <b>Phil:</b> I still haven't figured out a name for our son :/<p/><b>Dan:</b> Oh but I've already named him<p/><b>Phil:</b> really? wha-<p/><b>Dan:</b> no, shrek, don't touch that you'll get hurt, son<p/></p>

anonymous asked:

i have a prompt for you: what if snape hadn't called lily 'mudblood' that day. what if their friendship had stayed strong, unbreakable. would he have grown to be a better person? would lily have loved him, rather than james? would harry just have another godfather? would james and lily have survived?

Okay you have successfully convinced me to write a Snape thing, which is a possibility I have audibly forsworn many times to my loved ones. But I’m a sucker for concepts like “Harry gets another godfather,” so, here we go.


When Severus was seven, he fell in love with the girl down the street. She had long red hair and dirty knees and she offered him half her candy bar one drizzly afternoon, waiting outside the school for her parents to come pick her up.

His parents weren’t coming— dad working late and mum at the pub recounting old Hogwarts glory stories, talking of years when her life was magical– but he didn’t tell Lily that. He was just waiting for the older bully boys who lurked in the empty lot on his way home to get bored and leave.

He ate the candy slowly in neat little bites while she grinned and told him about her big sister’s feud with the science teacher, like her Tuney was some sort of hero in a political espionage drama. She talked with her hands, narrow little things with freckled backs. He watched her wave from the back window of her mother’s car and then he started the long walk home.

When Severus was fifteen, James Potter dangled him upside down in the quad and laughed. Severus landed on elbows and knees. The bruises would stay for a week. The memories would not die with them— James’s cocky grin, the laughter in the spring air, the long whip of Lily’s red hair.

He felt small, bug-like, his knees pressing into the grass. His mother would come home some nights, kick the threadbare carpet, rattle the battered old pans in the cupboard, curse a Ministry that hated purebloods, that sucked up to halfbreeds and Mudbloods, that left the true wizards to rot in filth. He would curl up, make himself small, bug-like, imagine a chitinous shield growing over his shoulders, his spine, the softness of his kidneys. Some days, his father slept through this. Some days he screamed back.

After Severus met Lily, he would curl up under his covers, small, bug-like, and read through the comics she’d lent him with his hands pressed up over his ears. He wanted Professor X to come take him away. He wanted to be someone special, someone saved. He wanted a giant to burst through his door and frighten his mother and offer him a squashed birthday cake and a way out.

When Severus was fifteen, he slammed to his knees on the green Hogwarts quad. Laughter burrowed into his ears, like curses, like the nights his father screamed back, and when Lily stepped toward him he snapped, “I don’t need help from a Mudblood.”

When Severus slouched up to her door that summer, Lily didn’t invite him in. She leaned on the open frame of the door, arms crossed. He had so rarely seen Lily neither smiling or incandescent with rage, but she watched him with snakeskin eyes and a set mouth, still.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t–”

She twitched a strand of hair over her shoulder, the irritation the closest thing to an emotion he could spot on her. He was watching, desperate– this was Lily, she gave things away. She talked with her hands. He never felt lost, with her. “But why,” said Lily. “Why are you sorry? Because I’m upset, or because what you did was wrong?”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You did, and it’s not the point. I don’t care if it’s the part you care about, Sev, it’s not the part that matters. That was an awful thing to say– to say to anyone. You were cruel because you were scared and embarrassed, but Sev I could really care less. You were cruel.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

“Sorry’s not enough, Sev. Be fucking better.”

He jerked back and tried to turn it into some kind of laugh. “Language, careful, your mum might hear.”

She shrugged, and stepped back through the open door, and shut it in his face.

He spent the summer reading comic books, haunting the local library, then the local park once it’d closed, and then sneaking home when he was hopeful his parents would be asleep. He tried to think about bravery, but sometimes he just thought about Lily’s hair, the way it went more golden in summer. He tried to think about nobility, ethics and grace, but the clouds chased each other, fat and white, across the sky and he wasn’t sure what any of this had to do with him.

His father took him fishing by a dreary brown creek and they sat in silence. Severus could hear every creak of the rods, every lap of the water, every inhale and movement his father made. He thought maybe if he just said nothing, nothing ever, he’d never say anything again that made Lily’s face go so flat and distant. If he said nothing, maybe nothing would hurt.

His father reached back for a beer can in a swift movement and Severus froze himself unflinching. He sat in that silence afterward, slowing his heartbeat, picking apart the sudden rigid shell of his shoulders. His father hummed, cracking the can open like a gunshot.

He sat alone on the Hogwarts Express that year, stuffed in a compartment with a handful of second years who gave him half the seats while they giggled among themselves about the haircut of someone named Gertrude. Every summer’s end, for five years, he and Lily had boarded the train together, pressed their noses to the window glass, and watched the land rush by.

For the first month of school, Severus practiced pausing before he spoke, for seconds, minutes if he needed them. Sometimes he’d add an answer after the conversation had already moved on, bent over his mashed potatoes, weighing words as carefully as he weighed salamander eyes and mandrake root.

(If you crushed firedrake seeds with the flat of your blade, instead of cutting them, they made a more potent potion. The textbooks told you to stir six times counterclockwise to make Sleeping Draught, but he knew–because he had thought, and tried, and tried again–that if you did five counterclockwise and two clockwise the draught would turn that perfect turquoise and the sleep would be dreamless and sweet and deep. He kept notes in his textbook’s margins, because it helped to remember.)

In the second month, he tried to listen. People were starting to think about life after school, a big yawning chasm they were supposed to fill with themselves. People were starting to fall in love, puppyish and petty. People were starting to believe in the war, whispering, dreaming, fearing.

In the common room, one of the kids said something about Mudbloods and Severus’s head snapped up. He tried to imagine a shell growing into his shoulders, over his spine, covering all the soft parts of him. He wanted his covers, he wanted to shrink, he wanted Lily’s boxfuls of comics, but he rose to his feet and snapped back. Sometimes saying nothing hurt people, too. A small Muggleborn in green and silver ducked away to her dorm, clutching quietly at her sleeves.

For the third month, he tried to watch– not for warning sneers or cocky grins, clenched fists and broad shoulders, all the things he’d been watching for since before he could name them– but for the way shoulders might go rigid, the way fists might clench but hide, wishing for something to shield every soft part of them.

Severus was bony and pimply, sixteen years old and graceless in it, but he could be an interruption. He could mock with the best of them, flicking his brows and twisting his nose, and asking pointed questions. He could talk, smart-mouthed and snide, until the focus turned to him, and then he could survive anything they handed out. He could give as good as he got. The pauses were shorter, these days, before he spoke, but they would always be there, an echo offset from the shout, an avalanche that struck late and terrible.

When kids cried in bathrooms or empty classrooms or the library, he didn’t move to comfort them, though he heard them. He didn’t know how. He wrote his own curses, out in the forest where he could scar the trees in experiment, and they all turned out bloody. He loved few things, even Lily, as much as he loved pouring all of himself into his work, until something new and his own grew out of it. He wasn’t sure he’d ever invented something kind.

He didn’t try to find Lily, but he came back from the Forest once and almost tripped over her, half-napping in Hagrid’s pumpkin patch. He stumbled back into a gargantuan gourd while she pushed hair out of her face and peered up at him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, after a pause that rumbled and roiled in his gut, that he clung to with both hands, breathing into it and letting his shoulders go soft. “I’m sorry I said it. I’m sorry I made you feel small because I was feeling– small.”

Lily sat up a bit, in the little semi circle she’d built herself of books and scrolls and gobstones and snacks. She had built fairy circles like that, when they were children, of the flowers he’d transfigured for her.

“I’m sorry anyone has to feel that way, ever,” he said. “They shouldn’t. I’m angry anyone has to feel that way.”

“Me, too,” she said, and, fishing around in the detritus that surrounded her, handed him half a candy bar. “C'mon, you want some tea? Hagrid said he’d put a kettle on for me if I finished my Arithmancy.”

When Severus was in sixth year, Remus Lupin almost killed him on a moonlit night.

Severus had wanted answers, had wanted to get them in trouble, had wanted something a bit like vengeance, and Sirius had told him about the Whomping Willow. Sirius had grinned when he’d done it, small and bitter, and Severus had wondered if he was fighting with James again, wondering why else he’d sell out his friends.

“I didn’t think–” Sirius tried, the morning after, watching Remus across dry toast and cocoa, big juicy bowls of melon.

“You never do,” Remus snapped. (A bare handful of years later, standing in the smoldering ruins of James and Lily’s house, Remus would think about Sirius’s erratic gaze, the sharp edge of his voice, his last name, and wonder if he should have seen it coming. What here was premeditated? What was mischief? Sirius had once almost painted Remus’s own hands with red blood.)

But for now, Remus was sixteen and angry; he was sixteen and guilty of things that might have happened. He didn’t speak to Sirius for a month.

James refused to speak with Sirius, too, but he only lasted a week. Moony was sulking and Peter was busy studying his little heart out, and James got twitchy without proper and regular socialization.

“I’ll punch him in the nose,” said Lily, when Severus told her. She shifted where she sat cross-legged on the library table, like she might go off and hunt him down that second.

“Black doesn’t deserve the attention,” said Severus.

“Getting his ass kicked by a girl? That type of attention?”

“Getting his ass kicked by Lily Evans,” Severus said. “It’d be an honor and you know it.”

Reports of violence outside Hogwarts got worse. People were disappearing. People were whispering, fearing. The papers were ignoring the important things, and feeding off the fearmongering, or so Lily announced in the library while Severus was trying to study.

Alice and Lily had spent years sharing hissed rants in humid greenhouses. Over an undulating bed of luminescent deadly nightshade, Alice bent her head close to Lily’s and asked, “Have you heard of the Order of the Phoenix?”

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Normani doing what she does best, seeking out any camera when a 25 mile radius

FAIRY TAIL FINAL CHAPTER DRINKING GAME

DISCLAIMER: for the love of god, don’t use alcohol with a high concentration if you’re doing this. Literally do. beer shots if you have to. I don’t wanna have any of you sent to the hospital with alcohol poisoning.

Well, folks. This is it. The end of Fairy Tail as we know it. The fandom will live on but the series is coming to a close. As a fandom we’ve endured some…wild shit together, be it plot based wild shit or fandom based wild shit, and now is a time to (mostly) put aside our differences and celebrate Fairy Tail as we know it. And what better way to celebrate with a good old drinking game? (A bingo version of this will be available shortly as well!)

RULES:
1) Please be of legal drinking age in your country to play this with alcohol. You’re welcome to do this with juice or water if you’re underage or uncomfortable with drinking! Or, if you want to wait for the bingo game, that’s an option as well! (Honestly I would say if you’re not an experienced drinker then don’t use alcohol period).
2) DO NOT USE ALCOHOL WITH A HIGH AL%/V!
3) If you take a shot of alcohol, your next two shots must be of water before you return to alcohol. This is to ensure that you don’t get alcohol poisoning, and that you stay appropriately hydrated.
4) Only one chug (a chug is defined for this game as a mouthful) for the chapter if you’re drinking high alcohol level drinks (or at all tbh) and no more than three shots per page.
5) Once you’ve chugged ANYTHING, no more alcohol period.
6) This game is designed to cater to everyone in the fandom: those happy with the ending, those unhappy with the ending, and those who don’t give a damn. There’s a wide variety of options here!
7) Honestly now that I think about it, maybe y'all shouldn’t use alcohol period, this list is extensive as fuck. Play at your own risk.

Without further ado, the drinking game @rhosinthorn and I designed!

1) Just to get us pleasantly buzzed: one shot for every one of the Big 4 to go officially canon, two shots if there’s a kiss.
3) If a crackship goes canon then make yourself a cocktail (if you do this, no more drinking).
4) Timeskip + small children for the big four = entire glass of straight vodka (or just a shot).
5) If Jerza is still dancing around each other, take a shot.
6) If a minor ship gets together that we predicted (i.e. ElfEver), half a shot.
7) ¼ a shot for every gloating/whining post in the tags.
8) 5 shots for every ‘don’t be mad at Mashima’ post (…this breaks the no more than three shots per page rule, so for one this one you are to ABSOLUTELY ONLY USE WATER)
9) Three shots for Team Natsu wrecking something. Or their progeny.
10) One shot for every edit of the exact same panel (Eien’s rec: don’t do this one with alcohol, trust me. Please use water.)
11) Chug it if the chapter is entirely full of parallels to other big moments in the series (here’s looking at you, ch 1)
12) One shot for every speech bubble a nakama speech takes up.
13) Two shots if there’s a time skip and Makarov shows up.
14) If the ghosts of Zeref and Mavis show up, chug. Chug hard.
14.b) If ghosts show up at all, chug.
15) One shot for every time someone does Laxus’s hand thing.
16) If Jellal is still technically a criminal, take a shot.
17) If Mest is shafted to the side, shot.
18) If Lucy is returning from a journey where she found Aquarius’s key, shot.
19) Keg stand if Lucy leaves a la Natsu (i.e., just take a shot).
20) Shot if Happy slips in a fat joke.
21) One shot for every item of clothing lost (Eien’s rec: …this is gonna happen a lot, I feel…water only.)
22) Three shots if Gruvia has kids that have a stripping problem.
23) If either of the Gajevy twins says gihihi take a shot.
24) If Lucy’s nickname is still bunny girl, take a shot.
25) If the bunny suit comes up take two shots.
26) If Gajeel still can’t sing, take a shot.
27) If ElfEver is still denying they’re attracted to each other, take a shot. Take another if they’re married.
28) If Miraxus goes canon, then chug. If Fraxus goes canon, then chug.

ENJOY AND PLEASE BE RESPONSIBLE WITH THIS.

Mister Hockey and the boy crying in the kitchen

(complete version)

Alternate Universe where Bitty is a figure skater at Samwell. He and Jack meet for the first time at #Epikegster 2014.

warning labels: Alcohol, mentioned homophobia, Parse. 


 Jack went down the stairs with a huff of annoyance. The first floor of the Haus was packed from wall to wall. Loup thumping music, laughter and yells that were barely tolerable from his room now seemed almost tangible, crushing him from all sides. He could already feel the beginnings of a headache.

 He pushed his way through and managed to reach the kitchen unscated. Only three guys were sitting at the table, loudly debating Plato’s cavern versus the Matrix, and another was leaning on the counter near the stove, muttering to himself.

Jack opened a cupboard, swore under his breath when he saw that it was empty of their usual mugs, glasses and bottles. He took a new red solo cup from the enormous pack available to all, and filled it with tap water, trying to ignore the guys at the table.

 ‘…aren’t you the most precious thing, baby…’

 Jack turned around. The guy next to the oven was muttering endearments with a southern drawl- but there was no one next to him. He wasn’t even holding a phone.

 Jack had a doubt. Was the guy talking to him?

 ‘Yes, you are lovely, a bit old, but I would love you, and take care of you, and create glorious things with you, oh sweetheart, if only…’

 The guy was not talking to Jack. He was talking to the oven.

 He was also, apparently, completely drunk.

 ‘… better things than pizza rolls, you can be sure of that, you sexy thing…’

 Jack was a moment away from heading back to his room when he heard a sob.

 ‘… but it’s not to be, pretty thing, you and I will have to go our own separate ways and- sniffle- get with our own lonely lives and - oh lord, I’m being ridiculous-’

 ‘Huh-’ started Jack. ‘Are you okay?’

 The guy turned around. He looked older than Jack expected. At least, he seemed to be over eighteen. Jack only had an impression of eyes and blond before he got the drunkest and fakest smile he ever saw in his life.

 ‘HI!’ said the boy. ‘Gosh, you’re big.’

‘… are you okay?’ repeated Jack.

 ‘Why, yes, of course! I’m peachy!’

 ‘You’re crying.’

 The guy seemed surprised by this fact. He dried his tears with the sleeve of his hoodie and made a dismissive gesture with his other hand.

 ‘Don’t mind me, sweetheart, I’m being silly.’

 ‘…You were crying,’ insisted Jack. ‘And talking to the oven.’

 ‘Well, no one else seemed to give her love, so I figured-’

 He stopped himself and looked at Jack.

 ‘You’re the Captain of the hockey team,’ he realised. ‘This is your house. This is your oven.’

 ‘…Yes? In a manner of speaking?’

 ‘What’s her name?’

 ‘Whose name?’

 ‘The OVEN,’ insisted the guy.

 ‘She- it doesn’t have a name?’

 ‘Blasphemy. If I had the chance to own such a lovely baby, I would name her something adorable! Like Daisy, or Betsy, and I would bake everyday, I would make pies and cookies and biscuits and-’

 He burst into tears.

 Jack threw a look around. The guys at the table were staring at them.

 ‘Dude, what’d you do to him?’

 ‘Nothing!’

 ‘D’you break up with him or something?’

 ‘No! We just met! He was talking about the oven- and then- and then-’

 He made a helpless motion towards the crying boy.

 ‘Maybe you should do something about it?’ suggested one of them.

 ‘Like what?’

 ‘Dunno. Something. To make him stop crying.’

 Jack hesitated. He thought about retreating to the safety of his room, where the music didn’t hurt his ears and blonde strangers didn’t burst into tears at the sight of a kitchen appliance.

 Awkwardly, he lifted a hand and patted the guy’s shoulder.

 ‘…there, there,’ he muttered, feeling like the most ridiculous man on Earth.

 He got several thumbs ups from the table residents. Which didn’t help his predicament at all. The boy was still crying.

 ‘Hey, hey, shh, don’t cry, everything is going to be okay…’

 ‘You don’t know that!’ wailed the blonde boy.

 ‘Okay, you’re right. Maybe, huh, what could make it right?’

 ‘I want to BAAAAAAAAAKE!’


(more under the cut!)

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I’m debuting my new blog with a headcanon

  • look ok the Waynes don’t go to normal banks
  • what are they, poor?
  • but Jason does because he doesn’t have access to their money
  • I mean he is fucking dead
  • and fuck if he’s letting them give him any money
  • so Jason is in line at the bank
  • he looks like a normal guy, if a bit muscular
  • he goes by the name Todd Peters
  • bc he has a sense of humor gdi
  • and some guys in masks run in and shoot at the ceiling
  • they order everybody around
  • and the civilians “cower”
    • none of them are actually all that scared
    • they’re used to this ok
    • they deal with Scarecrow every other week ok they’re fine
    • they just figure this is easier than making a fuss
    • Jason’s pretty sure there’s only one bullet in that gun anyway
  • they start demanding the money
  • and Jason can’t just leave this bc he’s here
  • he might as well deal with it
  • so he stands and brings attention to himself
  • “hey!” he yells
  • they turn to him
  • and he just
  • he just fucking decks the closest one in the face
  • it’s a surprise bc nobody usually tries
  • he’s outnumbers like five to one
  • but he ducks their attacks and kicks their feet out from under them
  • and punches them all and basically just leaves them all black and blue
  • he ties them all up when he’s finished
    • bc of course he has fucking rope with him
    • why wouldn’t he
    • that’s a normal thing to have
    • (no it isn’t Jason what the fuck)
  • he couldn’t help but notice that as this was all happening
  • the civilians just quietly started making their withdrawals
  • the people at the desks thank him when they realized he was done
  • one person calls the cops
  • and then Jason realizes that there’s a camera in the bank
  • and he just makes his withdrawal and fucking books it
  • no doubt the bats will be seeing this footage soon
  • and he’s not about to deal with the police
  • he hides in a safehouse for a while in hopes that they don’t call
    • they do
    • bruce thanks him for leaving them alive
    • he doesn’t respond
Chew Toy

Request: “Could you please write something where the reader is best friends with the marauders, especially Remus and Sirius? And at a party after a won quidditch game they all get drunk and end up in a threesome.”

Pairing(s): Sirius Black x Reader, Remus Lupin x Reader, Sirius Black x Remus Lupin, James Potter x Lily Evans

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: READER GETS DOUBLE TEAMED! ALSO WOLFSTAR IS STRONG IN THIS FIC! LOTS OF SMUT AND DIRTINESS AND I AM GOING TO HELL!

The pounding music had been ongoing throughout the entire night since the end of the Quidditch match, your dorm room door barely muffling the sounds of constant laughter, chatter, and overall rowdiness. Your friends had been prettying themselves up, hoping to at least make out with one of the boys or girls on the team, since everyone downstairs was too drunk to care who they had a little fun with.

“You coming (Y/n)?” Your roommate giggled after taking a shot of Firewhisky.

You huffed, rolling your eyes as you had stuffed up your lipstick for what had to be the third time. “In a sec. It was probably a bad idea to start drinking before I started my makeup, huh?”

Your friends laughed at your crooked grin, promising to meet you down there. You waved them off, knowing for certain that by the time you got down there, they would all be off getting laid.

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Hometown Weddings | Part 1 | TOM HOLLAND X READER

Description / Request: The reader gets a call from an old friend inviting her to come to her wedding, one that’s being held in her hometown. Tom, who has a crush on the reader, agrees to being her plus one, much to the amusement of Jacob and Zendaya. Jacob makes Tom promise to tell the reader his feelings at the wedding if he can get proof that she likes him back within the next 8 days.

Author’s Note: So I got sent this request and liked it so much that I started writing it almost immediately. I added some details and it ended up being longer than expected so I think I’m going to turn it into a multi-part fic. Let me know if you like it and feel free to send me your own requests.

Word Count: 1632

Part 2| Part 3


Everyone cheered as I caught yet another raspberry in my mouth. Tom, Zendaya, Jacob and I were all hanging around the craft services table, messing around while the crew got ready to film the next scene.

I reopened my mouth and leaped sideways as Jacob tossed another raspberry into the air. When I caught it once again, I dabbed furiously to my right.

“Why are you so good at this?” Zendaya asked in disbelief taking a sip from her water bottle.

I shrugged my shoulders and caught another raspberry in mouth, this one being tossed by Tom. I winked at him as I started chewing it causing a blush to appear in his cheeks. “While some of us were mastering the art of dancing,” I started making a pointed look at Zendaya and Tom. “I mastered the art of eating.”

“Preach,” Jacob said raising his hand for a high five. I grinned and slapped my hand against his rather aggressively. He hissed and retracted his hand. “Dam that stung,” he groaned, cradling his hand.

I cackled and opened my mouth to give a witty retort when the Spiderman theme song started playing. My hands reached into my back pocket and pulled out my phone which was receiving a call.

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Your Sarcasm is Not Appreciated

Context: This all happens in a Call of Cthulhu game where 2 characters (named Vanessa Evers and Matthew Dupain) have been canonically dealing with eldritch horrors for the last two years and have become close friends, whereas the other 3 “new” characters have no experience in that area. Everyone was in a bar doing their own things when an eldritch spider attacked.

Vanessa: “Seriously? We can’t even get one night off?”

Dupain: “Well that’s what this was supposed to be…”

Later after they’ve killed the monster the other shell-shocked characters are hurried out of the bar into a cab to be taken to a “safe house”, while the two of them are going to set the bar on fire to dispose of the monster’s body.

Dupain: “Dammit, I can’t find my lighter.”

Vanessa: “Sigh. Here, just use mine.”

Dupain: “Awww, look at you! You’re learning!”

Vanessa: “Your sarcasm is not appreciated.”

Dupain begins pouring flammable alcohol on the monster’s body / the wooden floor of the bar, and is about to start the fire when-

Vanessa: “Wait! Before you light this place up-”

She ducks behind the bar and takes a bottle of highly-flammable run and a bottle of very expensive wine.

Dupain: “Seriously?”

Vanessa: “Well I’m not going to let this go to waste! Now hurry up, I’ll meet you in the car.”

She then throws the rum which shatters against a wall before heading towards the car with the wine, though not before calling over her shoulder;

Vanessa: “And don’t you dare leave my lighter! I really like that one!”

Afterwards the cab peels away from the scene, the bar going up in flames as sirens come screaming from the distance, and the understandably confused “new” characters are asking questions.

Dupain: “…and that’s why we had to burn it down.”

Vanessa: “Speaking of arson; do you have my lighter, or did you manage lose yet another one?”

Dupain: “No, I have it in my coat pocket. Here.”

Vanessa: “Awww, you’re learning!”

Dupain: “Your sarcasm is not appreciated.”

mirror.co.uk
Louis Tomlinson teases new song Back To You and fans nearly "die" of excitement
The One Direction star is hard at work writing more solo material
By Vicki Newman

Article text is below and I’m not even going to complain that they’re a little behind because…omg I have to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming…it’s a UK-based tabloid story posted tonight at 23:57 and there’s no mention of either stunt. It’s 100% focused on Louis. I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.


Louis Tomlinson has been telling his fans that he’s hard at work writing new solo material.

The former One Direction star posted a teaser video for his new track Back To You, telling his followers it’s due to drop on July 21, and they were apparently so excited they almost died.

The short clip opens with Louis packing a suitcase that’s lying on a bed, with a calendar displaying the number 21 on the bedside table behind him.

It also features old-fashioned looking footage of 25-year-old Louis playing on his phone, picking up a cup of coffee, walking down the street, and playing darts.

A chalkboard with the words ‘Back To You’ written on it then flash up in a brief moment.

The video apparently tells us that his new song, Back to You, will be coming on July 21, and that we may even get a music video with it.

While one fan branded him “King of teasers”, others expressed their excitement by telling the star they were near death.

“I m gonna die,” wrote one.

And another said: “Oh okie.. this is great .. I’m having a heart attack”

While another commented: “honestly, the amount of times i have watched this is just unhealthy”

The singer also posted a selfie, writing: “Working really hard at the moment and writing every day. Getting excited !”

Louis released his first solo track, Just Hold On with Steve Aoki, last year, performing it at the X Factor finals, just days after he tragically lost his mum to cancer.

Louis had found out in early 2016 that his mum, Johannah Deakin, was terminally ill.

He was applauded for his bravery in going on to perform after her tragic passing in December - something that was one of her final wishes for him.

Sigils With Triggers

Okay, so I got a couple messages from @misaimed-archer
Asking about some sigil stuff, some of which being about ‘conditional sigils’ where they only cast when certain circumstances are met, like being in the presence of another sigil or a certain item.
Which got me thinking, that’s a totally plausible idea, but how do you do that?
So in my somewhat drunken state, I got thinking about it, and this is what I’ve come up with.

So you make two sigils, one for your intent, and a trigger sigil.

So you got those two sigils now.
But just because you have the two sigils doesn’t mean they’re going to work as intended.
How do you make it so that the ‘trigger sigil’ triggers the intended sigil?
How do you make it so that the intent sigil doesn’t work on its own anyways?
Well I’ll tell you how!

Putting the sigils inside eachother creates a connection or a link between the two sigils.
They’ll act like magnets do when they get within a certain proximity of eachother. But instead of the reaction being attracting to eachother, it’ll activate the otherwise designated purpose of the ‘intent sigil’.

So when these sigils come within a certain distance of eachother (which would be decided by the intent and general power of the creator/castor), it’ll trigger the intent!

If you’d like a couple examples on how it would work, click the link below.

Keep reading

Human languages are weird

So I’ve seen a few of these ‘humans are weird’ posts and thought I’d try my hand.

So what if, to the aliens, human languages are utterly confusing and ridiculous? Like; the alien speaks gibberish in Latin and looks expectantly at you. You just kinda give it a clueless look and it tries again. This time it’s Greek. You look at it and say “try English”.

It then starts in English and you’re like, “why do you have a British accent?” It then looks at you completely befuddled and says, “there are different kinds of English?!” And you look at it and go, “there are different styles of it, yes.”

And later on, you meet up with other English-speaking humans, and the alien gets it’s first taste of colloquialisms and slang. “Human Steve, why are we doing this until the cows come home? I didn’t realize this planet had bovine-type creatures.” “No Xarlan, it’s a figure of speech. It says one thing but means another.”

“What does ‘ain’t’ mean human Steve?” “It’s just another way to say isn’t.” “But then why didn’t they say isn’t?” “Because they’re from a different part of the nation I’m from. They have a slightly different way of saying things. Although, my mom used to always say ‘ain’t ain’t a word.’” “But human Steve, that phrase contradicts itself. If ain’t isn’t a word, then you wouldn’t be able to use it twice in a sentence. And if it is a word, then the phrase says it isn’t.” “It’s another figure of speech Xarlan.” “Ohhhh.” -looks at Steve with utter confusion-

4

Tucker’s just really glad Wash is okay.

Whoops Hetalia Teacher au

While not paying attention to my actual teacher I starting thinking about what Hetalia characters would be like as teachers, this is what I came up with…

Germany - Angry math teacher who everyone is terrified of on the first day. Very strict about attendance and completing homework. He works everyone hard though cause he wants them to succeed.

Italy - Super laid back art teacher who had questionable pictures of half naked women all over the room. Brings food for the class like every Friday and inspires kids to peruse art.

Japan - Culinary teacher, very calm and reasonable but always puts way too much salt in the recipes.

Romano - Dance teacher, just picture it. (I don’t know if Dance is actually a class you can take but shhhh pretend)

Austria - Music teacher, no one else really has him except the band and music kids, but to them he’s a roll model and they all love him. He plays for every school assembly.

Hungary - Health teacher who wanted to be gym teacher and is salty about not being gym teacher but still very fun

Spain - Kind of obvious but Spanish teacher. Very laid back and all the girls take his class cause they think he’s hot. He connects well with the students though and often helps them with personal problems.

Prussia - German teacher, since he has the same last name as Germany they all get really scared thinking its him, but them Prussia rolls into class on his wheely chair and sunglasses. He’s a weird and crazy teacher who everyone either hates or loves.

France - French teacher, very passionate about his language and gets into arguments with England over which is better. Shows the class like a billion French songs and Romance movies dubbed in French. Always comments when students are talking about their relationships.

England - Grouchy, closet alcoholic English teacher who everyone thinks is boring at first but he gets really into his classes and gets into debates with students over wether Shakespeare is necessary to learn or not. Everyone’s favourite teacher to make fun of.

America - Gym teacher, really fun and everyone loves him but he accidentally works them way too hard. Plays dodgeball every second day and gets way too into it. Makes fun of every teacher behind their back to make his students laugh.

Canada - Nerdy computer science teacher who’s always forgotten at staff meetings. (Idk what it is with me and Canada being a computer nerd) every one calls him to fix their computer every time it glitches out. Sometimes Canada and America will teach each other’s classes and know nothing about it but have lots of fun.

Poland - Drama teacher, I just really want Poland to be the flamboyant drama teacher who teaches students how to be themselves up on stage and loves shy kids and seeing them express themselves through acting.

Lithuania - Another English teacher, very calm and nice but always comes to class looking slightly drained, no one knows what’s wrong with him.

Estonia - Another Math teacher that everyone hopes to get instead of Germany, he used to be the computer science teacher so he’s pretty techy and does cool stuff while showing notes in class.

Russia - Guidance councillor who everyone’s afraid to go see and he doesn’t understand why.

Ukraine - Biology teacher who loves when students are enthusiastic about Biology and accidentally knocks stuff over. Is also way to easy going about dissecting and it freaks people out.

Denmark - Crazy chemistry teacher with the crazy hair, his hair is a school joke as everyone is trying to figure out just what hair gel he uses.

Norway - Physics teacher who has a feud with Denmark over which science is better. People fall asleep in his class a lot since he’s so monotone but he doesn’t understand what they’re talking about when they point it out to him.

China - History teacher who gets way too into the lessons and unconsciously acts stuff out. Strict rules about completing work on time.

anonymous asked:

Would dwarves be naturally more resistant to long exposure to low-grav, due to higher bone density? What's the gravity like in their habs?

(With reference to this post here.)

I’m going to tackle this one as a separate post because it’s long and technical and the sort of thing that would be first on the cutting room floor if I was writing an actual sourcebook.

Anyway, the issue of bone density loss tends not to come up because most dwarven orbital habs have residential and recreational sections that can be spun up to provide artificial gravity. Oddly enough, this is another area where dwarves’ biology gives them an advantage.

In a nutshell, there are two major drawbacks associated with using rotating habitats to provide artificial gravity: tidal gradients, and Coriolis forces.

A tidal gradient is basically when gravity acts with different force on different parts of the same object. The most familiar example is (of course) Earth’s tides, where the position of the Moon causes its gravity to exert uneven force on the Earth’s oceans, raising and lowering the water level accordingly.

You see the same effect in rotating habitats: specifically, the artificial gravity is stronger the closer you are to the habitat’s rim, and weaker the closer you are to the habitat’s hub. If the habitat’s diameter is very large, this gradient will be difficult to notice on a human scale - but if it’s small, it may be discernible.

In fact, if the diameter of the rotating habitat is small enough, you can end up with a situation where the force of artificial gravity on your feet is significantly stronger than the force of artificial gravity on your head (provided that you’re standing up). This can cause blood to pool in your legs, inducing circulatory distress, oxygen and nutrient deprivation to the brain, and other nasty effects.

Coriolis forces, meanwhile, are virtual forces that act on moving objects in rotating reference frames. That’s really technical - the plain English version is that if the thing you’re standing on is spinning, you’re constantly experiencing a slight acceleration in order to keep you in sync with it, and that acceleration can do funky things to fluids and trajectories.

The most familiar example is, again, meteorological: hurricanes and other pressure systems consistently rotate in different directions depending on which hemisphere you’re in - counter-clockwise in the Northern hemisphere and clockwise in the Southern hemisphere - because the deviation induced by Coriolis forces is enough for them to favour one direction over the other.

If you’re into scientific trivia, you’re probably wondering why I used hurricanes instead of toilet bowls as my “familiar example” - after all, we’ve all seen far more of the latter than we have of the former. That’s actually a common misconception: the direction that water rotates in a toilet bowl is determined by the geometry of the bowl, not Coriolis forces. Counterintuitively, even though the Earth is spinning at breakneck speed, its rotational velocity relative to its diameter is small. Since the strength of the Coriolis forces associated with a given system is in proportion with that system’s rotational velocity, the Earth’s Coriolis forces are quite weak - far too weak to mess with localised systems like the water in a toilet bowl.

Some of you may have guessed where I’m going with this: the smaller your habitat, the faster it needs to rotate relative to its own diameter in order to produce useful artificial gravity. In practice, this means that for a given level of artificial gravity, the smaller the diameter of the habitat, the stronger the Coriolis forces upon everything inside it will be. If the habitat is small enough, those forces can be strong enough to screw with the fluids in your inner ear, which are responsible for your sense of balance. This essentially induces a permanent case of motion sickness - not a fun time for anyone!

The solution to both of these problems is the same: go big. For humans, a habitat that’s been spun up for artificial gravity needs a diameter on the order of hundreds of meters in order to be comfortably habitable; needless to say, this poses non-trivial engineering challenges.

For dwarves, it’s a different picture. Their short stature and robust circulatory systems help to moderate the effects of tidal gradients, both by making them better able to pump blood against gravity, and simply by reducing the distance between their feet and their heads. Meanwhile, the dwarven inner ear is relatively insensitive, perhaps because falling over is less dangerous for them; this insensitivity is usually a disadvantage, but in this specific situation it’s advantageous, because it renders them largely immune to motion sickness, including Coriolis-force-induced vertigo.

The upshot is that orbital habitats designed for dwarves can get away with much smaller diameters for their rotating sections, making them both simpler and cheaper to build.