it is only a title

itsspookyjim respondeu seu post “lisaamd respondeu a sua foto “erasmusofakielos: I’M DYING OVER…”

tbh I’m still throwing my hopes behind paschal. narratively, it makes the most sense. he knew auguste, he was there when he died (on that note, he may have even recognized damen?), he gave nicaise the letter within the 1st book, & had regular private access to both damen & laurent.

I love this idea! 

A whole story about Paschal and everything he witnessed in the Veretian court through the years would be amazing. Not only it would fit the title since he was the Regent’s Pets physician, it would also justify a four chapters long story, Paschal knows A LOT, he was there since the beginning, he went through Aleron’s reign and saw Auguste and Laurent grow up, he was there for The Regent ruling years which means we’d get to see a lot about Nicaise from him and also Damen (did he know who Damen was? I bet he did) besides there’s also his brother who was a direct participant of The Regent’s plot , and now he gets to witness Laurent’s rightful ascension to the throne and an unprecedented unification of Vere and Akielos. 

HOW AMAZING WOULD  IT BE TO GET A STORY THAT TRAVELS THROUGH EVERYTHING WE KNOW BUT FROM BEHIND THE SCENES SHEDDING A NEW LIGHT TO THE EVENTS OF THE SERIES!!!!!

Aaaaahhhh my faith is restored and now I’m very excited for this story, please Pacat listen to our prayers.

PS.: If it turns out to be about Ancel please reserve a place in your woods for me, thanks ¬3¬

4

tv aesthetic → the office

I’m not superstitious, but… I am a little stitious.
10

Jace smiling/laughing because of Maia in 2x13 + Maia smiling because of Jace:

i like you (this is a problem)

“Here’s the thing-” Lily said, marching into the pub and pulling out a stool.


“We’re closed.” James interrupted without looking up from wiping down the bar.

“I want a dog.” Lily barrelled on without hearing him. “But my landlord doesn’t allow pets so I was wondering-“

“I’m not getting a fucking dog for you.” James said firmly.

Lily blinked at him. “I was going to ask if you thought it was morally wrong to raise it in my air-vent.” There was a silence. James was caught between hoping she wasn’t serious and knowing that she was. “Your idea seems better.” Lily admitted.

“Really. Talk me through that, is it because there is no animal abuse involved?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of then you’d have to clean up the poo, but the no animal abuse is also good.”


“Y’know” Sirius was lying on top of the bar, waving around a beer and staring at the ceiling. Nobody looked up. “I always thought once we owned a bar we would spend a solid 60% percent of our time drunk, and that hasn’t happened.” 

Remus, still wiping down tables, said “I shudder to think what you’d be like on your own.”

“Since we bought the bar we spend more time drunk than we used to?” Peter consoled, baffled.

Sirius sat up. “I would say we spent about 15% percent of our time drunk before the bar, and after the bar we spend about 25%. That is an increase of only ten percent.”

“Where are you pulling these numbers from?” Lily asked while holding the ladder for James, who was avoiding the dishwasher by pretending to fix the squeaky window.

“On top of being an excellent barman I double as a statistician.”

“You are neither of those things.” Remus said. Sirius glared.

“Fuck you Moony. At school you were always saying I didn’t do enough math, and here I am, doing math, and you’re abusing me.”

Remus threw a dishtowel at him and gestured to the kitchen. “Go unstack the dishwasher.”

“Fantastic.” Sirius said, throwing his hands in the air. “This is what I get for my brief foray into math. Insulted and unloading dishes.” He jumped off the bar and mockingly gave Remus’ back the finger. James laughed.


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major-trouble  asked:

You need to tell that story immediately.

The Colin Mochrie story? Gladly. This is a good story.

So I go to this college, and it can best be described as a little weird. It desperately wants to be Cambridge, but it’s not Cambridge, so it takes out its frustration with not being Cambridge on weird collective mockeries of Cambridge stuff. So far so good.

One of these weird mockeries is the debate club.

It’s hard to even properly call the Literary Institute a debate club - it is a club, and it does debates, but the debates are 100% stand-up comedy in a parliamentary format and the other half is bullshit pantomiming. For instance, every year at matriculation, the club drunkenly rushes the stage, interrupts the ceremony, and calls everyone in the audience a horse’s ass (occasionally while quoting Dune). It also puts on a yearly event called ‘Tuck-Ins’, in which people in the dorms can sign up (or sign their friends up) to have the entire LIT burst into their room, give them bedtime snacks, give them bedtime beer, sing some bedtime songs, and tell them a bedtime story. Except, the LIT never does anything seriously, so the bedtime song was always Barrett’s Privateers and the bedtime story was almost always something we called ‘The Rat Story’. Let me tell you about the Rat Story.

The Rat Story was a piece of… literature… that a LIT member dragged out of the dregs of the internet many years ago. Nobody knows where it came from, and my efforts to find it again were unsuccessful, but good lord, it was bad. It was a page-and-a-half-long Hermione/Wormtail (rat form) smut fic and it was awful. So awful. I’m cringing just thinking about it. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever read, and at this point I basically know it by heart. We read it aloud, from the poorly worded introduction to its horrible closing line (AND HE SCAMPERED AWAY WET! STUNNED! AND THRILLED!) dozens of times in a single night to unsuspecting students. It was an experience.

Now you might be wondering how Colin Mochrie fits into this.

So, one of the other things my college does powerfully and often is pretension. We are the most pretentious college you will ever see, and our college clubs are proof positive of this. Every year, various college clubs send out dozens of official-sounding letters inviting our various favourite well-known-people to attend our meagre college events (I, as president of the James Bond Society, personally invited Barack Obama, Sean Connery, and the Queen to our AGM). However, this year the Comedy Club was riding particularly high, and it sent out quasi-sincere invitations to speak to a variety of Canadian comedians.

And Colin Mochrie showed up, one fateful Tuck-Ins night.

He gave a talk, which was very good, but noticed as the talk finished that many students were rushing away to something in an awful hurry. We explained that it was the night of Tuck Ins, an important and sacred college tradition and that

We would be delighted if he would join us.

And that, my friends, is the story of how I found myself crammed in a dorm room with 20 other people, listening to Colin Mochrie describe Peter Pettigrew’s rat boner to a couple of second years who had no idea what they were getting into.

anonymous asked:

How about Lotor fighting Pidge for the privilege of being the #1 Klance shipper?(ofc Pidge wins)

(this argument is probs still happening to this day)

pidge for #1 klance trash 2k17

The boy, he dies at the end.

He’s written the spoiler right on the first page, like a shit, and he’s ghastly. He really is. Only- of course he isn’t. Quite the opposite. She uses the book to hit him in the chest. He laughs.

You’re the worst gift giver in the world, she informs him. He waggles his eyebrows, and she’d kiss him if Sirius wasn’t here. You two should kiss, Sirius says through a mouthful of crisps, looking on with mild interest. James shoves him sideways and then does, in fact, kiss her. He tastes like tea and mint.

The boys wear party hats all round London. Remus has five coffees, Peter loses his scarf to the wind and Sirius throws away a twenty pound note because he thought it was a very poorly made napkin. It might just be the best birthday she’s ever had.

Naturally she can never tell James this because he’ll just be unbearably smug, as opposed to the bearable level of smug he is normally. He buys her an ice block and then precedes to rip into her for picking lemonade flavor, which he has been told by Remus is the ‘most basic’.

Pathetic Lily, truly embarrassing, he says, and she reaches up and snaps the string of his party hat. Being eighteen feels no different to being seventeen, still being told by a choking James that she’d just ‘broken his throat’, still laughing when Remus says that it’s probably a blessing, still liking them all an inordinate amount.

Afterwards they go home, the two of them, back to the tiny apartment where they eat and sleep and make breakfast. When they’d moved in she’d used James’ wand to flick all the dead moths off the windowsill and to get her back he froze hers in ice. Sometimes when she can’t sleep and her brain is a blank wall she’ll get up, walk around, breathe. She can look at any surface of their place and think here. I kissed you here. I loved you here.

She goes through the door and there is a cake on their bench. The top slants to the left, lopsided, and the icing has melted all down the sides. She freezes, staring. James bounds past her and tries to prop up a drooping candle. I didn’t know you weren’t supposed to ice it while it was still hot, he confesses, guiltily.

She keeps staring. You made me a cake. She says, fumbling around the words. I don’t know if you can still call it that, he says, distracted, trying to even out the slanting top by shifting the icing. She cannot believe him- waking up early just to make her a cake. Her heart is swollen. She could break a rib.

Happy birthday Li- he starts, but she has surged forward and is kissing him instead. His hands are sticky from icing, on her face and jaw and neck and he made her a cake. In this kitchen, in this apartment, in her space, he was here. There has never been a better boy than hers, and here. She loves him here.

just wondering (can we be friends?)

Synopsis: There is no way you had a crush on Daniel. Absolutely not. No matter how many times you drunk dial Seongwoo saying that you did nor how many signs get shoved in your face. Nope.
Member: Daniel/Reader
Word Count: 6,727
Notes: i definitely wrote this for @yugenvevo and definitely not because i’m weak for daniel. that sounds fucking stupid, being weak for him… honestly, my french anon, i wrote this for you too. for all the daniel hoes, how about that. now to fling myself into the sun. goodbye. enjoy.

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anonymous asked:

But the anon who suggest the name Heather made me laugh because I've been obsessed with this movie/musical called The Heathers about a girl (Veronica Sawyer) who gets accepted into a clique of girls named Heather who rule the school but she ends up getting entangled with a psychopathic vigilante who goes on a murder spree targeting popular kids. So there's that.

Anon, I don’t think you’re really seeing The Me Inside of Me there. Not that it wouldn’t be Beautiful, but you might just have to Freeze your Brain before you start thinking everything is a Heathers reference. You might be having Big Fun thinking the show was Meant to be Yours, but other people might start feeling Blue if you don’t Shine a Light on this whole affair. And before you know it, you’re going to start to Fight For Me and we’ll all have to get a Lifeboat out to save you before you become a Dead Girl Walking. And believe me, I Am Damaged, I know about musical theatre obsessions. I have Seventeen different versions of one show’s soundtrack!

Candy Store.