the king of diseases

Royalty was like dandelions. No matter how many heads you chopped off, the roots were still there underground, waiting to spring up again.

It seemed to be a chronic disease. It was as if even the most intelligent person had this little blank spot in their heads where someone had written: “Kings. What a good idea.” Whoever had created humanity had left in a major design flaw. It was its tendency to bend at the knees.

—  Terry Pratchett - Feet Of Clay

What if, this is not Anna Heartfilia as everyone is speculating but Layla Heartfilia instead?!

What if she was in the Celestial Spirit World all this time? I mean, think about it, the woman looks older in the above cap but that can be explained by the fact that time goes different in the Celestial Spirit World. 1 day in the Celestial Spirit World equals 3 months in Earthland.

She would be around 44 years old now.

Also, look at the hand pose. Layla was always depicted with that specific hand pose and here is the above woman doing the exact same.

All in all, the body language matches Layla’s very well.

It could have been a reversed Celestial Spirit summoning where the king allowed Layla to stay in the Celestial Spirit World. Most probably, after obtaining the Spirit Clothes, it could have had a reverse affect for her magic deficiency disease.

Or maybe the Celestial Spirit King shared his magic with Layla so she could recover? This would explain why he didn’t one shot Marde Geer.

Also, do you remember when Jude said that Layla’s grave was transferred after Heartfilia Konzern was confiscated? He never mentioned anything about a coffin or a body for that matter.

I know this might seem a big stretch, but we all know how Mashima can work.

This is just a theory that may be true or not, we will find out next week (hopefully)!

England’s oldest newspaper

Though it doesn’t publish the conventional mix of stories that you might expect, it could be said that The London Gazette, originally The Oxford Gazette, is England’s oldest continuously published newspaper.

The first edition was published in Oxford on 7 November 1665, and was designed to be an official journal of record for government - but why was it originally published in Oxford and not London?

We can blame the Great Plague. King Charles II had relocated his court to Oxford to escape the disease, and his courtiers were so afraid of contagion that they wouldn’t even touch a paper that had been printed in the capital.

Printing moved to London from issue 24; this was again interrupted when the printing presses were destroyed by The Great Fire of London ahead of issue 85.

The copy of the first edition that we’ve pictured in this post is part of the archives at the Bodleian Library, just a short walk from where the paper would originally have been printed.

stanlon hanahaki

taken from my angst tirade on the It discord, I’m not formatting this so enjoy the copy/paste hell

the first time it happens, they’re down at the barrens, the whole group. they’re having fun and goofing around and laughing and Mike just sees Stan sitting in the grass, laughing, sunlight hitting him, and he just feel this pang of want, of hope, of love. his chest starts feeling funny, and he excuses himself from the group, just wanders off a bit, sits by a tree near the clearing where they are, and all of the sudden this coughing fit hits him. he doesn’t know what’s going on, but it hurts, it hurts much more than a coughing fit should. he feels something fly into his mouth and spits it out into his hand. its just this single, tiny, yellow petal. how the hell did he cough it up? what is it?? he doesn’t know, he’s never heard of this happening, so he goes straight back out and asks to speak with Beverly immediately. 

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Hamilton Characters as things said by me and my friends part 3
  • <p> <b>Alexander Hamilton:</b> this is the most depressing water I've ever drunk<p/><b>John Laurens:</b> what if lick was pronounced thicc<p/><b>Lafayette:</b> fench. ,.. wAIT NO I MEANT FRENCH<p/><b>Hercules Mulligan:</b> wait when did I become the mum friend?<p/><b>Eliza Schuyler:</b> *hits rocks together* kiss and make fire<p/><b>Angelica Schuyler:</b> fIGHT THE SYSTEM BITCHES<p/><b>Peggy Schuyler:</b> *after being called to the office* this is the end bros, goodbye<p/><b>Aaron Burr:</b> we are obviously the cool kids. We talk about politics at lunch<p/><b>Thomas Jefferson:</b> okay but what if America was France<p/><b>James Madison:</b> fear me I'll give you a cold *sneezes*<p/><b>George Washington:</b> *singing very off key* kILl MeeeEEEEeeeEEEEEeeeeeeeee<p/><b>King George:</b> jealousy is a disease bitch *poses* ...... one that I have stay away if you don't want to catch it<p/><b>Charles Lee:</b> I'm here I'm not queer................... *softly* jk<p/><b>Maria Reynolds:</b> time to end a relationship using the power of my voice only<p/><b>James Reynolds:</b> *screeches* SCAMS<p/><b>Samuel Seabury:</b> British people have a knack for complaining about the weather whatever it is<p/></p>
Shall I tell you what sociology teaches us about the human race? I’ll give it to you in a nutshell. Show me a man or woman alone and I’ll show you a saint. Give me two and they’ll fall in love. Give me three and they’ll invent the charming thing we call “society”. Give me four and they’ll build a pyramid. Give me five and they’ll make one an outcast. Give me six and they’ll reinvent prejudice. Give me seven and in seven years they’ll reinvent warfare. Man may have been made in the image of God, but human society was made in the image of His opposite number, and is always trying to get back home.
—  Glen Bateman in The Stand by Stephen King
Intertwined(Prince AU)

Author’s note: I so freaking excited for this ajgakiuhgaergugkj. Jinyoung is the perfect prince in my book. 


Breakeven - The Script

Fools - Troye Sivan

Paper Hearts - Tori Kelly

Pairing: Reader x Jinyoung(GOT7)

Word Count:1400+

Genre: Angst

Originally posted by jypnior

I knew I made a mistake the second I let my friend leave his hand on me for one second too long. I could feel his gaze from all the way across the giant ballroom. I said my goodbye to my friend and walked quickly back to the kitchens. I shouldn’t let this get to me. We were nothing after all. I could touch anyone or let anyone touch as much as I want. let it me him or anyone else.

   Tonight was the night of one of the biggest balls of the year. It celebrated the founding of our kingdom, the end of many wars and to bring our people together. I saw it as a way for the rich to show off their wealth. I have attended it since I was a child but not as a guest in a glittering gown but a servant carrying a tray. To many, it was an honor just to be invited. To me is was a long night and some sore feet in the morning. As a child, I would watch in envy all the beautiful gowns and people coming through the tall doors, wishing one day I could be right with them in a dress of my own. But as the year passed, I knew that could never be. I look at these people with anger now because not one of them ever had to lift a finger for anything in their life.

   “You there! Servant girl!” I look up from my thought and into the eyes of a woman who most certainly has a stick up her ass. She was the head of my kind and never took the effort to remember any of our names. She would say “why should I have to remember the names of people who are below me” or “there is simply too many of you.” she acted like she was the queen but she was only one step above any of us. Nowhere near royalty but she never let us forget who had the power.

   “Yes, Miss Stockard?” Yes, she was unmarried. I always thought who would want to marry a woman like that. But a part of me had pity for her. Getting to her age and not having even one marriage proposal. Must be lonely.

   “Take this to the king, he not liking what on the menu tonight.” she pushes a large tray laden with roast, vegetables, and potatoes into my hands. “Make sure to use your manners or I’ll have your throat.”

   “Yes, Miss Stockard.” I bow my head to her and walk to the entrance to the ballroom. I make my way around the circle room to the king’s table not making eye contact with any of the guests. Just as I have been trained to do since birth.

   I reached the king’s table and stop to the side of the king’s chair. The king was young but he did look much older. Stress and disease racked his body through the years as king and left him looking beyond his years. I bow low enough to look a bit silly to anyone in their right mind but it was “servant manners”. The King was laughing joyfully to a joke told by a member of parliament. He waves at me without a look in my direction continuing to talk to everyone. I place the food laden plate down in front of him. But as I look up from the plate, I make eye contact with the one person I didn’t want to see all night. He was sitting to the right of the king, a place of honor. A seat only meant for the next in line. The Prince. I dreaded what he would do next but as I watched him lift his hand to his face and scratch right above his left temple. I knew I was in for a long night. I tuck the tray under my arm and speed back to the safety of the kitchen.

   Maybe I could just not show up. It’ll teach him. But if I don’t he’ll just find some way to force us to talk. He was my boss after all. I have to do whatever he says. I sat on a stool drying silverware and plates. The ball ended hours ago but my night was far from over. Everything had to be cleaned, polished and put away until the next stupid party. I rub my hand on the back of my neck, dreading what was going to happen after everyone went to bed.

   After securing the last of the plates into their boxes, I slip myself out the back door of the large kitchen into the gardens surrounding the castle. I walk quietly down a path I taken many times before. I take one last turn and squeeze myself through two tall hedges. I brush leaves off my worn gray dress and look around the tiny enclosure. It was a kind of place you had to know about to ever find. To me and him, we were the only people in the castle to know about it. A space I found hiding from an angry Miss Stockard as a child. It became our hideout as children and an escape as teenagers.

He was sitting on an old stump and gazing at the many stars above. I used to ask him to name every single star some nights. He was still in his suit from the ball. His tie was loosened and his hair was ruffled, though. I liked him better this way. He didn’t look like a man who was about to inherit an entire kingdom for once but like my best friend.

“Jinyoung,” I call out softly to him. He looks away from the night sky and stood up as he smiled kindly at me.

“I was starting to think you weren’t going to come.”

“I had my cleaning duties.”

“I thought so.”

“What do you want Jinyoung?”

“You know what funny, how after all these years, we still come back to this spot.”


“It has always been a place to escape. From rules…our titles…parents.”

“I can’t stay long, I going to be missed.”

“I know.” He was inches away from me. He was always the one to close the distance between us.

“What do you need then?”

“Why can’t we just talk like we used to do?” he plops himself on the grass and pats the spot next to him. I sigh as I slid down next to him keeping a good foot or two in between us. I look up into the night sky. He follows my gaze and we watch the stars for a while

“What you want to talk about?” he was silent for a moment.

“It becomes harder each day to just watch from a distance.” he comes closer to me just a little bit.

“Don’t” I whisper out weakly

“To pretend you’re just another servant.”


“I wanted to take you out onto that dance floor tonight and show my father the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.“  He closed the gap between us again and was leaning close to me.


“And when that boy touched you, I wanted to punch him. I never had a want to punch anything before.” I had enough.

“We aren’t anything. He did nothing wrong.”

“I still wanted to.”

“It doesn’t matter. We nothing. We will never be anything. The moment I turn 20 years old, I will be forced to marry whoever Miss Stockard and my parents deem fit to be my husband. To carry on the castle servant line. And you will be married to some princess or lady who has been trained all their life how to hold a teacup. Someone pretty to sling across your arm. We aren’t teenager anymore, let stop this wistful thinking.” I push myself from him and gaze straight into his dark eyes.

“I know, I still don’t like how it is.”

“Do you think I like it this way either? But I accepted my fate. You need to too.” I stand up from the grass and squeeze myself back through the hedges. I rush through the garden because I have been away for too long. I hated being so cold to him. But it was the only way I can let go of him. Someone I could never have.

More to come. As always I hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as I loved writing it!!<3

anonymous asked:

Hey, I was wondering if you had a mchanzo fic list by any chance? I've read a couple of the kens you've recommended, and it would awesome if they're were anymore Thanks!!

Hey there, anon! (sorry for my late reply but yesterday I was on mobile!)

So… Few of my faves:

1. Hang The Fool - fluff, angst, everything, made me read it everywhere, even while walking (almost accidentaly killed myself because of that)

2. Blue - Hanahaki is a beautifull and deadly disease 

3. The 85th Annual King County Bake-Off - bakery AU I’m in love with, I can’t wait for the last chapter!

4. Of the Pickle Persuasion - foodtruck AU! Feels so short but is worth reading!

5. Crossroads - another AU, fluffff

6. Happiness is a Warm Puppy - this one is so cute and sweet, healing all diseases

7. Weeds or Wildflowers - THIS fic is a master angst, has two endings, the alternate one left me broken, I was crying like a baby, I am still crying on the thought of it and I love it so much

8. Making Memories, Wasting Wishes - Hanzo’s in the hospital and Jesse’s the cutest and plays guitar

9. Check Mate - I love this fic so much but i hate the kettle. Nerf the kettle, pls

I can’t pick the absolute fav, every single one deserves love and more kudos. Hope it helped and have a nice day! 🍩

I think one of my favorite things about the gospel is the humility in it. Very rarely do you hear of a king placing himself below others; settling on a dirty ground rather than high on a throne, taking a place among thieves and prostitutes instead of the company of royalty, recognizing the needs of others versus taking advantage of what people can give him. There’s beauty in the simplicity of Jesus’ birth and life. He is King, the long awaited Messiah, and yet His entrance into the world was anything but grandiose. Even Mary is merely a child and Joseph is nothing but a carpenter. Average people, chosen to play a part in radically changing the world. There’s significance in the simple. Time and time again, Jesus is found with the scum and the downtrodden and the castaways pouring life-giving words into them— people that weren’t even allowed inside the city gates because of disease; people that kings and rulers wouldn’t associate with because of the irreparable damage it would have on their image. But yet we consistently find in scripture the proof of Jesus’ humility and love: the laying down of His will, His comfort, His flesh, His very life… “..for the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many.” (Mat. 20:28)

I cringe. I back away, hands in front of me, as if doing so will keep the homelessness from rubbing off on me; like it’s some communicable disease. I shy away from the prostitutes because no matter how much I try to believe that it wasn’t their choice, my judgment catches in my throat every time I open my mouth. These are written words so you can’t hear in my voice the disgust I have for myself but know that I am the worst of the worst and my best days are spent in silent criticism, flashes of anger, and insecurity-ridden thoughts. I long to be like Jesus. I want to dine with the broken people and not question my safety. My desire is to pour out His love on those who don’t have anyone else. I don’t want to avoid eye contact with the sign-holders on the street corner, those begging for someone, anyone to extend them an act of love. I’m a work in progress, just like everyone else. But I think we as the body of Christ need to be more aware of who Jesus is, what His life on earth looked like, and how we can better reflect that.








First drawn on iPad, then at the halfway of the colouring process I moved to work on the computer. I’m a sucker for mermaid!aus, so of course I needed one for McLennon. I only used watercolour brushes + a crayon brush, and topped it with a watercolour texture in the background. Read more for the 2300 word story that I wrote to accompany this!

Paulos, the youngest son of King Triton, is forbidden from going on land. Ever since the kingdom of Atlantis lost its queen, Mary, to a mysterious disease, King Triton has strictly refused from letting anyone ashore. There is nothing else that Paulos wants, though, his curiosity too strong.

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Another Shot

Pairing: Natan

Word Count: 1555

Description: Natalie and Satan traverse to a carnival near the coast. When Natalie has her eye on a Certain Stuffed Prize, the pair find themselves determine to win it- for different reasons of course. Takes place when Nat and Satan go to the coast. Before she- y’know. Died.

“Ooh! That one! That one riiiiiight there!” Natalie pointed and waved her arm like a flailing idiot, eyes all aglow at the sight of possibly the most hideous thing Satan had ever seen.

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