on the wall of my room

“I would straight up Bilquis Benedict Cumberbatch.”

From an email from a friend much more active on Tumblr than I am:

Also want you to know that “Bilquis-ing” is now a word youths on Tumblr are using to describe sexual congress with men they are very attracted to.

“I would straight up Bilquis Benedict Cumberbatch." 

I will forever wonder if this is true or not, but I think I will keep my sanity by doing nothing to find out one way or the other. That way lies a room with walls the colour of raw liver, and madness.


KlanceWeek2017 : Day 7 : Free day (click for a better quality, the pic is full so you can zoom a bit yay)

I mean… They’re teenagers, in space, in a castle ; why the hell don’t they have big pretty windows open on space ?? 

Here have Lance and Keith chilling in Keith’s room ; i made the walls match the ideas of this one drawing and hc, also keith kept the Marmoran suit and bought smalls knives at the space mall. Darts on Lotor’s face are an usual game. Also keith is a bit galra. -  I love galra!keith shhh could you tell ? 

(also thank you to every single person that somehow liked and reblogged my mess for this week, it has been a Wild Ride and a Fun Time, I hope you enjoyed it as much as i did !! )

Band kids are wild

So most of this story happened the year before my freshman year, but a lot of the fallout was still going on into my freshman year.

Let me just start this by say, band kids are freaking wild. there was a lot of real scary, inappropriate shit that went on in Marching Band and Wind Ensemble. This story, however, takes the cake.

The way our band room is set up is the main area with cabinets for the instruments lining the walls. On the wall opposite the entrance, there is a door to the band director’s office (She was a horrible, disgusting piece of trash, but that’s another story) On the other end of the room, there were three doors adjacent to each other that lead to different small rooms. The one closest to the entrance held our uniforms for marching season (It was locked to everyone except the booster parents in charge of them, so no one really messed with it.) Next to that, was the drum room where all the drum line equipment was kept, and all of the percussion kids would smoke weed, and do other hard drugs, along with illicit acts I won’t mention. (Mind you, that room was only ~8x8 so it was super small idk how they didn’t get caught) On the other side of the drum room is the tuba room (Held tubas, duh, and all the PA equipment for marching season) and then a door leading to the back parking lot.

So all this shit wen on above the tuba room. That’s right, I said above. No, this school didn’t have a two-story band room, these kids were in the crawl space above the room, where there were probably plenty of dead rats, bugs, and asbestos, but whatever. They managed to somehow get an Xbox, a TV, and a couple beanbags up there without alerting any adults. This was about 6-7 of the band kids that would wait up in the crawl space until everyone left after hours and party in the band room, drinking and whatnot.

The only reason they got found out was because of this obnoxious freshman at the time, Shane. He was caught climbing on the shelves through the hole and into the crawl space. No one in Administration found out, because the band director didn’t want to lose her job, so she just tipped of janitorial that they needed to seal that and gave Shane so many strikes (community service orders for band) but he’s a true homie and didn’t rat his buddies out so that’s cool.


This is a direct sequel to Unexpected Guest.

Thanks to @mccoymostly for planting the little plot bunny in my head and being my idea bouncer and beta. If everyone likes this and wants me to continue, there will probably be two more chapters.

2,685 word(s) of - fluff, fun and set up

No warnings  -  Leonard x Reader

You shimmered onto the transporter pad of the Enterprise, sighing deeply as you stared at the grey walls now surrounding you. You were standing in the front yard of your house just seconds before, with the warm breeze in your hair and the sun on your face. You loved space and were excited to be back, deep down, but it was always hard to leave your home and the blue skies behind.

You made your way down the familiar halls to your quarters, keying in the code to get into your room. The doors swished open quietly as you stepped inside the room. “Ahhh my home away from home.” You spoke quietly into the empty room, as you took your bags to your bedroom and dropped them inside the door, vowing to get to them later.

Keep reading

Maybe I am the weird one?

witch-witch-youre-a-bitch-blog submitted:

So, it all started when I was five years old. I lived in an old house and my room was across the hall from my mom’s. I would get scared and refuse to go upstairs alone (it was a dream every night) because I swore I saw a man in her room waiting for me. He would run out and pin me against the wall. Like I said, dream I am sure.

We moved to another house in 4th grade. From 4th grade will 10th grade, I had another “dream” all the time that there was a man (the same man) standing outside my bedroom window in the rain under a pine tree and all he was doing was staring.

We moved AGAIN and from 12th grade till 2 years ago ( I am now 24), I had more dreams about the same man. He would break into my house and run upstairs to my room. As soon as the bedroom door would open, I’d wake up scared to death. 

Ever since I have lived with my husband, I have not had any dreams like this. My sister told me the other day that when I was about two or three years old, I refused to sleep in my room because I swore a man was standing at the end of my bed.

The worst? I have a daughter who was five years old in August and she screamed the other night and told me she thought she seen a man in her room.

Fuck Yeah Nightmares Mod James: It might be because it’s midnight (as I queue this) and I’m alone and because I had nightmares as a kid, but you’re getting my first 10/10.  I’d find some help.  I don’t think you’re the weird one.  Thanks for sharing the scares!

Causing Heart Ache

This is a continuation of Shattered Heart.

Requests are open! Part 3 maybe? Let me know in the comments or ask box! (Also sorry if it seems weird I tried my best but my brain is just not working)

Shattered Heart: Part 1

    Newt nervously ran a hand through his hair. His eyes flickered to the clock on the wall as if it held an answer. You had been gone for three weeks. For three weeks…. Three weeks Newt has done nothing but worry about you. He let out a sigh and stood up from his chair. He made his way back towards his room. Only stopping at your door to glance inside. There was no longer any sign of you. It was just an empty room….

          Newt shook his head locking those thoughts away. He slipped into his room and sat down at his desk. Tears gathered in his eyes at the sight of your sketches peeking out from beneath various notes. He gently picked one up and let out a chuckle. You had drawn his Niffler. The little guy was nestled asleep beside his hoard of gold and for a moment it calmed Newt’s thoughts. Yet, it was once again ruined by the thought of you gone.

            The silence of the apartment was driving Newt mad. Tina had a case somewhere in Brooklynn and would be gone for a couple of days and it was Queenie’s shift time at Macusa. Newt couldn’t help but frown slightly at the thought of Queenie. If she had just stopped you… He closed his eyes feeling his heart ache as the memories rose up from his mind

               It was a few moments after the kiss when Newt realized his error. “Oh, God! I completely forgot! She’s going to be so furious with me!” Newt said frantically. He started gathering things together and slung his coat on. Tina frowned watching the Hufflepuff with worry. “Newt what’s wrong,” She asked standing up and putting a hand on his shoulder. Newt sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I promised (Y/n) I would show her around and it’s way past that time.”

                 Newt left the room and walked into your room. “(Y/n) I’m so sorry I-.” Newt stopped midsentence frowning slightly. All your bags were gone from the room. Papers were scattered across the desk but there was nothing else. He frowned and left the room. Deciding You must be eating, Newt made his way into the kitchen.

                   “Queenie?!” Newt was instantly by Queenie’s side. Tears were streaming down her cheeks and she kept wincing. Newt frowned slightly. “Queenie? What’s wrong?” Queenie wiped the tears away sniffling slightly. “Sweetie… I’m so sorry….” Newt froze an uneasy feeling growing in his stomach. “Queenie what are you talking about?” Queenie looked up at him trying to keep from tears again. “Sweetie…. (Y/n) left… I’m pretty sure for good…”

                     Newt sighed trying to contain his tears. He couldn’t understand why you had left. Sure, he forgot about your plans but… But did that really send you away? He rubbed his temple as a headache slowly set in. He locked the thoughts away deciding that he’d deal with them later. He rubbed his eyes allowing a few tears to fall before grabbing his quill. He began to work once more losing himself to his book. 

                        He only stopped when a knock sounded on the door in the living room. He dropped the quill a small hope flaring in his chest. He was out of his chair faster than a Niffler after golden coins. He smiled slightly swinging the door open. “(Y/n)! Thank God I-” Newt froze the words dying as he saw the figure in the doorway.

                          Theseus Scamander stood in the doorway with his arms crossed. His chilling blue eyes showing no hint of warmth. “Hello Little Brother,” Theseus said a hint of malice in his voice. “May I come in?” Newt silently moved out of the way an uneasiness creeping up on him. Theseus made his way in and Newt closed the door behind his brother.

                             Newt swallowed the lump in his throat trying to form the words. “Theseus why are you here?” Newt asked reluctantly turning towards him. He went rigid slightly as Theseus’s gaze seemed to pierce through him.

                               “It’s about (Y/n) Newt.”

                               Newt tensed slightly as a gaping hole slowly formed in his stomach. He stuffed his hands in his coat pocket struggling to keep from panicking. He didn’t know, did he? Newt knew if his brother found out about your disappearance that it would end badly. Sure, it would be nice for the help but he knew his brother would also kill him. “W-What about her?”

                                 Theseus clenched his fists struggling to keep his calm demeanor. “Newt…. You’re not that stupid… I already know she left,” Theseus said. His words sharply aimed sent a jolt of guilt through Newt. Newt looked down. His ginger hair covering his eyes as tears gather in his eyes.

                                   “I’m sorry… I-I’ve looked everywhere!” He said wiping his eyes. “I can’t find her…” His voice grew quiet near the end. He sighed running a hand through his hair hoping it would calm him down.

                                   Theseus scowled slightly before taking a deep breath. He tried to remind himself the Newt didn’t mean to send you away. Yet, He couldn’t stop thinking of you back at his mother’s home. Curled up on the couch not saying anything just laying there. He crossed his arms trying to push those thoughts away. “Newt…. How could you hurt her?”

                                   “I didn’t mean to!” Newt snapped defensively. Anger flaring through him for a moment. Theseus scowled slightly making Newt shift nervously. He turned away from Theseus hoping to calm down. 

                                     Theseus tried to remind himself that Newt was just being defensive. But he could feel the anger rising up in him. “Newt I know that… But Why did you have to hurt her that way?’ Theseus asked calmly studying his brother carefully.

                                    “She shouldn’t be that hurt!” Newt snapped feeling his heartache remembering her. “It’s silly to leave over something like that!” He turned back freezing at Theseus’s expression. 

                                      His eyes glimmered with rage at what Newt said. His jaw clenched as rage flooded through his veins. “Shouldn’t be that hurt?! Newt what you did was horrible,” He growled grabbing his brother by the collar of his shirt. “What’s wrong with you?!”

                                     Newt yanked away from Theseus glaring back at his brother. “What’s wrong with me?! What’s wrong with you?! It wasn’t that bad!” Newt tried to ignore the guilt pooling at the bottom of his stomach. He was not going to let Theseus bully him. He had nothing wrong!… Right?

                                    Theseus tried to ignore the hammering of his heart, but it seemed to pound in his ears. He scowled slightly at Newt’s words. “Wasn’t that bad?! Newt she likes you! And what do you do?! You kiss another girl,” Theseus yelled. His whole body shaking with uncontrollable anger.

                                      Newt froze. Everything seemed to stop as he took in what Theseus said. He frowned and shook his head. “No, She likes you….” Newt stated. He watched in dismay as tears gathered in his brother’s eyes.

                                       “No Newt… She likes you. It’s your fault,” Theseus snapped wishing the burning in his eyes would stop. “She likes you and got hurt cause you broke her!” Theseus wiped his eyes frowning at his brother. “You better fix this Newt. Either you find her or I won’t let you near her.”

                                        “Theseus wait-!” With a loud pop, the older Scamander vanished from sight. Leaving a disheveled and confused Newt to ponder what he was supposed to do.

humongous dream

typewriter sprouted legs & arms and jumped against the wall– gears and bolts and blobs of ink (all) went flying all over the room [damn it]

all of my manuscripts jumped into a bin and lit themselves on fire with a stolen book of matches (used up every single match, for emphasis i guess)

my walls started to crumble and fall, slowly, gradually– dust filled my nose and tears filled my eyes but i refused to cry

an invisible force kicked me in the gut and i ended up crying anyway– humongous dreams are not without their consequences

[or at least, so i’m told]

It always happens this way. Every new person enters and I search for their return ticket. I too keep my love packed. In a baggage I haven’t opened in a while. And people tell me I am introvert. And I believe it. Coz I don’t stay around. I have been wandering, inside out.

There are places in my mind I haven’t seen and there are few I have been visiting for a while. There was this room for people I care dearly for, the ones I am fond of and I heard echoes of their laughter mixed with the pictures of goodbye hanging on the wall.

I found a new room today in my heart. The one I had been searching since ages. I assumed I would have given it to someone already but turns out, it was meant to be mine, solely owned, pristine clean, only for me to visit. A place where I didn’t shake myself up to make space for others, there wasn’t even a space to place the memories of life lived and love lost.

And yes, may be I have been distant because no one asked me to stay close. May be I leave too soon because no one forced me to stay. And may be I have been falling in love with the ugly bits of mine because they need the love and I am tired of waiting for someone to love it.

So I decided to fall in love with myself. I opened this baggage of love and applied it on my heart, the one I have been struggling to join back. I decided to decorate the empty spaces with the hope of something better. I decided I am going to love this broken self with all my might, like I always dreamt to be loved.

And may be this is how healing happens. You forgive the ones who decide to leave and I have named rooms here with their names. May be the journey with them was meant to be that long and I am not the kind to demand more. So I guess it’s time to write a new poem about how life happens.

Jaime pulled his bleeding sword free as the body of Aerys Targaryen fell to the floor of the throne room. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand and swallowed hard. Elia, was Jaime’s first thought—and then he was running.

Elia Martell had always been kind to Jaime. “A good and gracious woman,” many called her. Though Jaime knew she was more than that, and didn’t deserve the fate she would surely receive if Jaime didn’t reach her in time. He ran from the throne room as fast as his legs would carry him, trying desperately to put dead King Aerys out of his mind. I had no choice, Jaime told himself. Elia will understand. I had no choice.

The gods alone knew if Elia would trust Jaime after he’d just murdered her good-father, but he had to try. And there was little love between Elia and Aerys anyway, Jaime knew. Instead he thought of Elia. Sweet, clever, fragile Elia; the only woman in King’s Landing beautiful enough to tear his thoughts away from Cersei, if only in passing. Though she was ten years his senior, Jaime hardly seemed to notice. Elia had never looked down on Jaime as others did, or treated him as if he were a child. She had always praised him after he’d done well in a tourney, and Jaime often saw her watching him sparring in the training yard with Princess Rhaenys clutching her leg.

With the drawbridge to Maegor’s Holdfast raised, Jaime headed towards the armory, where he would then need to scale the walls in order to reach the Princess and her children before someone else did. Jaime cringed at the realization, but Elia was worth the risk. Though when he arrived at Maegor’s base, Jaime saw two men already scaling its walls perhaps fifty feet above him; men he recognized as Gregor Clegane and Amory Lorch.

“Fuck,” Jaime whispered under his breath. I’ll never make it in time. But he had already come this far, he couldn’t give up now. And he certainly couldn’t leave Elia and her children to mercy of Lorch and the Mountain. Jaime looked up at the challenge set before him, took in a deep breath, and began to climb. The going was quicker than he expected it to be, then again this wasn’t the first time Jaime had scaled a wall. He had grown up climbing the walls of Casterly Rock as a child, much to his mother’s dismay. Jaime thanked the gods for his natural swiftness, and for not making him into a huge boulder of a man like Gregor Clegane.

Jaime saw Gregor and Lorch scamper through Maegor’s first available window and quickened his pace as he gritted his teeth from the exertion, sweat beading on his forehead. He reached the same window not long after and hauled himself through, which was no easy task in full plate armor—his snow-white kingsguard armor, now stained with red. As his feet landed on the stone floor, Jaime found himself on a landing between two staircases, one going up and one going down. Fuck, he thought. Which way did they go? The royal apartments seemed the logical destination, so Jaime chose the staircase leading upwards, and ran towards the bedchamber that had been Prince Rhaegar’s.

But when he burst through the oaken doors, there was no one to be found. Where is she? Jaime wondered, panicking.

“Elia!” Jaime shouted. “Elia, are you in here?”

“Ser Lion?” called a small voice. Jaime’s head turned towards the bed, where he saw a head of messy black hair peak out from underneath it, and two small dark violet eyes staring up at him.

Jaime let out a sigh. “Rhaenys,” he said gently. “Where’s your mama, little dragon?”

Rhaenys shook her head as she crawled towards him. Jaime lifted her up off the ground and into his arms. “I don’t know,” she whispered into his neck. “Mama said to hide and took baby brother away.” The nursery, Jaime realized. Fuck.

“Alright, little one, we’re going to see Mama now, and then you, her, baby Aegon and I are going on a journey together,” Jaime told Rhaenys, stroking her hair to soothe her. “You must be very quiet now, Princess, okay?”

“Okay, Ser Lion,” Rhaenys whispered, burying her head into Jaime’s shoulder. He turned and left the bedchamber with Princess Rhaenys in tow, and headed back down the staircase the way he had come.

Jaime had just reached the bottom of the second staircase when he heard the screams.

“No!” Jaime yelled, pulling his sword from its scabbard, still stained with Aerys’ blood. He burst through the nursery door just in time to see Gregor Clegane dash baby Aegon’s head against the stone wall. Jaime’s mouth fell open, stunned.

“Lannister,” Amory Lorch sneered. “I see you’ve brought us the other dragon-spawn. Be a good lad and hand it over.”

And so Jaime Lannister, with a princess in one hand and a sword in the other, moved to position himself between Elia Martell and her assailants. Jaime’s mouth curled into a smile, as if often did when he faced down an opponent, and he straightened his back.

“If you want them, come and claim them,” he said, not breaking his gaze from Amory’s.

Gregor laughed. “You fool,” he growled. “It was your father who bid us slay this lot.”

“Fuck my father,” Jaime said. “You’ve already butchered Rhaegar’s heir. Leave now, or I will show you no mercy.”

This time Amory laughed as he took a step towards Jaime. “You’re way out of your depth, boy,” he said, gripping the hilt of his sword, still in its sheath. Jaime slowly slide his blade towards Amory’s throat and placed it gently against his skin.

His smile widened. “I’ve already killed the king,” said Jaime coolly. “What do you think I would do to scum like you?”

Amory’s eyes widened as Gregor’s mouth dropped open in disbelief.

“You didn’t,” said Gregor, holding his ground.

“I did,” replied Jaime, without a hint of dishonesty in his voice. “Do you want your friend to live, Clegane?”

Gregor’s eyes narrowed, knowing he’d been had. He stepped forward and grabbed Amory by the shoulder. “Let’s go, Lorch,” he said. “The lion’s not worth it. His father would have us skinned if we harmed his golden son.”

Jaime slid his blade away tentatively, allowing Gregor to jerk Amory away. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Lannister,” Amory called as the pair left the nursery. Jaime sheathed his sword and quickly barred the door. He only now allowed himself to notice the way Rhaenys’ nails were digging into his neck as she choked out muffled sobs. Elia was crazed. She had scampered across the room the moment Jaime shut the door, and was now clutching the body of baby Aegon to her chest, sobbing hysterically.

“Elia,” said Jaime softly, walking towards her. “Elia, we have to leave.”

“My baby… my sweet boy… no, no, no… not my baby,” Elia whimpered, rocking her dead son in her shaking arms. Jaime knelt down beside her and placed his free hand on her shoulder. Elia shrugged it off and began to sob even louder. “No!” she cried. “I won’t leave him!” Jaime felt tears stirring in his eyes, and he blinked them away. He had to remain strong. For her.

“We won’t, Elia. We won’t, I promise. We can bring his body, but we have to go now, before the Mountain tells my father what I’ve done,” Jaime urged her. “Elia, look at your daughter, look at Rhaenys. We have to save her.”

Elia looked up then, and saw her daughter safe in Jaime’s arms. “Rhaenys,” she muttered. “My sweet girl.”

“Yes, Rhaenys,” Jaime echoed. “You still have Rhaenys.”

Jaime grabbed Elia’s chin between his thumb and forefinger and turned her face to meet his. He looked into her black eyes, red and raw and full of hot tears that would not stop falling, then rubbed her jaw with the side of his thumb.

“Do you trust me?” he asked her.

Elia blinked, then reached her hand up to touch his. “Yes,” she whispered.

“Then we have to go,” Jaime said. “Now.

Read on Ao3!


 Bothwell Castle. 

These are from the huge round donjon measuring some 20m in diameter and 30m in height, with walls around 4.6m thick.  The tower consists of four storeys, each of which had one eight-sided room with arched windows. Above the basement level was the great hall on the first floor, above which was a secondary hall, and at the top the lord’s private chamber. You can see where the timber joists would have slotted in, in the first pic. 


Hi I’m selling this wood antisepticeye/darkiplier wall art/plaque thing because after painting it I realized it doesnt fit the colors in my room and I’d rather someone have good use out of it rather than it just sitting in my closet. I’m selling it for $30 (US only if possible, please. If you want it and live outside of the US I might charge more bc I am a poor child thank u). Message me if you’re interested or have any questions.
@markiplier @therealjacksepticeye

[Elliott is just reading around NYADA’s website about these cute little furr creatures when he hears something behind him, at first it sounds like tiny steps as if a small animal was somewhere in the room. “Oh no” but then when he turns around he finds a bunch of them entering through the window “Oh fuck” he goes quickly and closes the bathroom door “You won’t touch my potions” he says looking at them challenging.

However, it seems the group of creatures doesn't care about magical objects, they look at Elliott with curious big adorable eyes, and before he knows it they all crawl and jump around the walls and the room and he has them all over him “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK” Elliott shouts but he isn’t quick enough to avoid them “Great…” he says giving up on the floor almost buried in fluffy creatures.]

(graphic description of ell)

[Even though he is struggling he is able to talk to Ziggy “ZIGS FIND SOMEONE, HELP ME” she is hissing safely lying inside her tank “This is hilarious” it’s the only thing she says “IT’S NOT FUNNY, THEY MAY BE CUTE BUT THEY ARE ANNOYING AS HELL, AND THEY APPARENTLY FEED OF AETHER ENERGY SO, FUCK ME” Ziggy slowly crawls out the tank and without being noticed by the Scurrigis she gets out of the room through the window “I’ll do my best” she says as she goes. She can’t stop hissing, like a laugh, “It’s just way too funny” she keeps repeating to herself.]

Eurovision 2K17: Graham Norton's Best Bits

“It’s a grey, damp night outside so there’s a faint smell of wet dog in the arena.”

“So, the theme this year is celebrating diversity, so let’s see who they’ve got to host… Oh, it’s three white men. Well done.”

“I can’t mock the jacket because… I’ve worn worse.”

“Timur is a personality powerhouse.”

“They’re excellent at speaking at the same time, they’ve cracked that.”

“Her brother will be fiddling with her on stage tonight.”

“Nathan Trent is actually his stage name. His real name is… Very difficult.”

“If you think my job’s hard, check out the guy pretending to play the saxophone for three minutes.”

“I should tell you, the Union Jack just fell off the wall in the commentary room. Hope it’s not an omen.”

“Nothing’s gone wrong. This was planned.”

“By the way, don’t worry, he hasn’t bought his mother’s ashes onstage with him. It’s actually a mini milk churn, which- who knew- could double as a musical instrument. Well, I say musical.”

“By the way, there hasn’t been a stage invasion. The woman is a professionally trained dancer. She is meant to be there.”

“The dancer trying to hide there. Who can blame her?”

“Inside that gorilla is Italy’s leading choreographer.”

“If you’re going to dress someone as a gorilla, at least get a decent costume. It looks like two carseat covers sewn together.”

“She was born and raised there (Australia). Moved to Denmark… Suspiciously recently.”

“There is so much love in this room.”
“Not for you, Alex.”


“And you keep thinking, ‘oh, this will make sense in a moment’ and… No…”

“She very kindly gave us some promotional chalk. I’ll be taking that home.”

“Ironically, for a man singing a song called ‘My Friend’, he doesn’t seem to have any.”

“Song 14 is Australia. Let’s not get into it.”

“My only piece of advice would be don’t start looking at his eyebrows unless you don’t want to stop”

"Does he advertise car insurance?”

“It’s got lots of things euro fans will enjoy: a beautiful woman, a stonking disco beat, and two half-naked men splashing around in a paddling pool.”

“Ooo. Some dodgy notes in there. I wonder if something’s gone wrong technically… Or maybe he’s just not great.”

“He wasn’t supposed to be singing but he stepped into the breach when the original singer… Came to his senses.”

“Comedy alert, ladies and gentleman.”

“Now… If I say this song is rap meets yodelling…”

“She claims to be the only yodeller in Romania. Probably because the others don’t talk about it. It’s the first rule of Yodel Club.”

“She splits her time between Berlin and London, so if you think you know her, you’ve probably seen her waiting for a bus or something.”

“Eurovision fans know it’s a long wait for the competition.” “A year. It’s a year, Timur.”

“The next thing you’ll ask is… How can three minutes be this long?”

“I just hope she enjoys it (performing) a bit more than she appears to.”

“This boy is a boy.”

“He’s literally just turned 17. He was born in this century.”

“We’ve done it, ladies and gentleman. This is song 26.”

“Terrific graphics, though. Mind you, if we’re looking at the graphics, something’s gone terribly wrong, hasn’t it.”

“Verka and her mother. I think it’s the same mother she had in 2008, we can’t be sure.”

“She (Verka) has already started drinking tonight.”
“Oh, I can believe that.”

“If zombies did aerobics, it’d look a bit like this.”

“Two hundred million people… Are watching this.”

“This is quite torturous. A very long minute.”

*gasp* “I smell charisma.”

“I shared a urinal with John Ola Sand earlier. I didn’t talk to him…. Thought best not to.”

“Look at us, on the left hand side of the scoreboard.”

“Do you think she gave the other half of her jacket to the man from Croatia?”

“This is like an international version of First Dates.”

“They’re like the muppets with accents.”

Au where Person A lives in a haunted house but like? Isn’t fazed by anything? They don’t even think their place is scary. Footsteps? Do ghosts know nothing about being quiet I’m trying to sleep. Voices? I don’t have time to ne ominously warned I need to study. Actual black sludge coming out of the pipes? I don’t have the money for a plumber u rats.

Then Person B shows up, somehow being able to See the ghosts, like “ dude ur house it literally full of demons and ghosts” and A’s just like “ya I know the demon in the bathroom keeps clogging the toilet somehow. Also the ghost in.my room keeps waking me up and that’s not cool cause I’ve got college I gotta focus on not this”

The demon/ghosts just hit their heads against the wall cause this MORTAL is literally fazed by nothing.

percy weasley and oliver wood were in the same year and house at hogwarts, i don’t know why it’s taken me so long to realise this but

  • oh god they would be so annoying to live with
  • both total perfectionists but about different things
  • percy getting annoyed at oliver for revising his quidditch strategy when they had a test tomorrow
  • percy acting smug because he’s head boy, oliver firmly believing that being quidditch captain is much more important
  • oliver happily aiding the twins in their pranks to get his own back at percy for not appreciating how important it is that he wins the cup
  • their dorm mates getting totally fed up of the two of them stressing tirelessly
  • ‘oh my god we have an exam in three weeks i need to revise’ ‘oh my god i have a quidditch match soon and the team is not practicing hard enough’ 

honestly, im surprised that none of the other gryffindor boys smothered them in their sleep