#rip tie

[eydilily]

(look at what i have to offer) — this is the spider's nest.

[iantojonesirl]

why didnt he just.... put on a shirt

[soni-dragon]

some dirks!

[chugging-antiseptic-dye]

beige flags of seventeen 🏳️🏳️🏳️ :

Scoups: asks you to private your insta acc

Jeonghan: will finish the last carton of juice/milk and put it back empty in the fridge

Joshua: spends all the hot water when showering

Jun: never admits that he is sick and then coughs in your food

Hoshi: will say "you order" when you ask him what he wants to eat but then never likes anything you choose

Wonwoo: never remembers to bring in the trash

Woozi: keeps on accidentally wiping his hands on your face towel

Dokyeom: stares at your food if he is on a diet

Mingyu: will keep on poking at a topic even when you said you don't want to talk about it

Minghao: flashes the delivery guys all the time because he doesn't remember to tie on his robes

Seungkwan: keeps on giving 'helpful suggestions' when you cook even though he himself doesn't know how to

Vernon: hogs the washroom all the time only for you to find out that he is just scrolling on his phone

Chan: plays loud music super early in the morning

[cute-girls-from-vns-anime-manga]

Jane Doe by Houh!

[music-orthemisery]

Patrick Stump performing Explode 8.10.11 [x]

[meangreennunseen]

Argus having brilliant idea to attack Fulgrim one on one on Istvaan V, and it ending with Argus being torn to absolute fucking pieces....

In boy's defence, Argus almost beheaded Deamon Fulgrim in Eye of Terror 8000 years later, so meme works both ways... It's a tie at this point.

[i-am-moss-the-boss]

The Terror has got to be one of the most quotable shows to ever exist, which is impressive considering how situation-specific, archaic, and contextual 90% of the dialogue is. Telling my coworker who has a minor headache that were will be poems about her is an absolute game changer.

[wundrousarts]

Something I’ve noticed for awhile is that I often get comments from people about how they are surprised how I always come up with theories and try to guess what might happen and they “could never do that” themselves. I want to say: yes you can! There’s honestly a shortage of Nevermoor theories and ideas and speculation and etc and I want to see MORE!!!

Want to talk about how Morrigan’s mom is actually secretly alive? How the Scholar Mistresses are a Wundrous Act? Do you think the Tempus Divinity looks like an owl, or do you think Weaving and Ruination would be met together? Or have you ever thought about how this one line, from Chapter 19 of Nevermoor, about Betram Crow actually means he was a Cursed Child? Whatever it is you want to talk about: GO FOR IT!!!

I personally find it very fun to go sort of “English class mode” and look at the text in front of me and think about what different things might mean and analyze it and even overthink it to an unnecessary (but fun!) amount. But that’s just me and how I like to approach things! You don’t need to make long posts and quote specific lines if that isn’t your style. The big thing to remember is that so much can happen in the next six books, so throw any idea out there! You never know what twists and turns will be thrown at us. I think it’s fun to share these ideas and discuss with other people— sure, maybe there’s just something you missed when reading, but perhaps some new ideas spawn might from it. Some speculation could even serve as inspiration for fics!

There are some theories and thoughts that I’ve posted that have been “debunked” when I reread a book, or when someone pointed out something, or even just when something had a real-world basis that I as an American didn’t catch. But it was still fun to think about it all, and there’s some bits and pieces that I see as notable and worth considering. I think most of the Silverborn Masterpost is going to be “wrong”, but if just 1% of it is “correct”, even indirectly, I will take that as a win. I know it feels like during the hiatus everyone’s talked about everything, but I hope that the incoming communal reread (fingers crossed) and obviously Silverborn brings some speculation back to the fandom because I want to discusssssss!

[sugurusfav]

i am in SHAMBLES

ABAUAADSMSKSKAOEIEG *incoherent screeching*

[patrice-bergerons]

Work is once again super intense this week so unable to make much progress on my actual WIP, I wrote something quick — it technically comes after the current installment of the law au i am working on, so you can consider it a delicious little teaser of sorts.

It's only a tie—there is no point in making it into a bigger deal than it is. A very expensive tie, the understated elegance of which not a single soul with a modicum, nay, the tiniest sliver, of sartorial sense could miss, but it is anyone's guess with Francis, isn't it, because even the lowest bar turns into Mount Everest when it comes to him and fashion.

Besides he may have well been dressed for work already when he opened his front door this morning, in one of his dull insipid suits no doubt, and been too lazy or in too much of a rush to change. James may not run into him at all in the next few minutes. Francis had a hearing in the morning, sure, but the courthouse lobby gets as busy as a beehive during lunch hour, with barristers and solicitors and clerks running about to grab a quick bite before rushing back into afternoon sessions or rushing in from the outside or rushing back out to their chambers and offices. It takes very little to lose someone in a crowd like that. Francis may equally decide to hang back and converse with a work acquaintance he ran into in the hallway and not emerge until after James has left. It is possible. It is fine. James is not here for him. He is here because he is grabbing lunch with someone, who also happened to be in court this morning, and he wanted to make life as convenient for her as possible. Because he is a good friend.

God, he is such a crap friend.

Appalled, he stops himself, closes his eyes, and does his best to take a slow, full breath. He has missed the hubbub of a courthouse, all that noise around him, the indistinct chatter and the clacking of a dozen heels against the hard floor. It is great to finally get out of the flat, to put on a good suit and take on the world, and these…unfortunate thoughts and sensations he is experiencing are the after ripples of trauma, nothing more. He may not have had his head on straight for the last week, in a manner most unfamiliar and unbecoming to himself, but he has also barely been able to get into the shower without triggering a full blown panic attack, so there is that.

Once he almost called Francis actually, to come and sit outside the bathroom door, only stopping himself, grinding his teeth, and getting on with it because he knew Francis would come. And it would be just a tad awkward, wouldn’t it, what with the guy he is currently seeing also presently in his flat. He has not at all considered that he could go and shower in Francis’s flat instead, because that would be, in one word, insane.

He casts his gaze around the space, looking for Marianne and Marianne only, when–

"James?"

James turns around, his breath caught in his throat all of a second like a helpless, small bird.

He is here. He has found James—he always does—he is already making his way towards him, parting an undulating crowd like Moses with the Red Sea as he walks.

He is wearing the tie.

James has seen a bit of him in the past week but not much. Chris, the dear that he is, has been staying over to look after him, and Francis has apparently given up on the one man war of attrition he has been waging against the parliamentary Conservative Party, one MP at a time, for now. Possibly, for good and for good reason.

But there is no recrimination in his eyes or his voice now as he says "don’t tell me you are back at work already." Just a bit of concern and an ocean of affection. Francis is glad to see him and he isn't even trying to hide it, the bastard.

“No, I am only here to meet a friend for lunch.”

James's voice sounds gravelly, distant, to his own ears.

Is it as simple as that? When you realise what a moron you are being buy me another tie in apology—a very expensive one, he had huffed, and James has, but after everything he has put Francis through, after everything Francis has done for him– Francis is such a Labour man at heart he has nationalised forgiveness. James has to suppress a laugh at that thought, which makes him cough instead. Immediately a hand comes to rest on his arm. Gentle, steadfast—like air to him when he could not breathe. Like air to him now.

"I won't overdo it mum, I promise," he replies gallantly, doing his best not to shiver. Then, "how are you? How is your day?"

"Not bad, actually."

The declaration takes Francis by surprise, James can tell—not the words that fall out of his mouth per se, but the truth of it. Neither of them has mentioned the tie. James does not think it is in his imagination only that Francis is standing a little straighter today, charisma oozing from him in every direction. James has been trying to tell him for ages what a difference dressing well makes for one's psyche, only for his plea to fall on deaf ears. Perhaps he has finally seen the light.

"I should say," Francis starts, "thank–" but he is interrupted with the sound of a ringing phone. His phone. Bugger. He takes it out, he glances at the screen, and James knows their time has come to an end before Francis opens his mouth to say, with such a note of apology in his voice,

"I am sorry, I need to take this."

"Yes, of course. I won't keep you." God knows he couldn't if he tried—keep him. Have him. James gestures towards the sliding doors with a brave smile. "My friend should be here any minute, I will catch you back home."

Francis looks at him for another second, with his ridiculously blue eyes, like the Mediterranean on a summer afternoon, serene and beautiful and filled with light, and James wonders what would happen if he said– whoever is not calling is not nearly as important as me. Ignore them and take me to lunch. He doesn't. He may be a bastard but he is not that much of a bastard. Francis nods, answers the phone, and starts to walk again, this time towards and through the doors.

Only once Francis is gone does he stumble to the nearest bench, reaching for the rescue inhaler in his pocket because his traitorous lungs are refusing to let enough air into his body. He closes his eyes and still all he can see are Francis’s eyes, a near perfect match for the colour of the tie, of the pocket square. His hand on James’s arm. His hand wiping James’s tears and reaching for James’s hand. His hand wrapped around–

Oh, this is bad, he thinks, because there is a gaping, bleeding hole where his heart used to be.

He does not get crushes. He does not fall in love; he is not a teenager, thank you very much. Let alone with straight men.

Let alone with Francis Crozier.

He chuckles to himself. You save a man's life and this is your reward apparently. No matter. Marianne will come and find him in a minute. James will greet her then and smile and have lunch. And he will teach himself, perhaps on the cab ride back, to be for once, grateful with what he has been so generously given—and to not ask for more.

[bubmyg]

396/638 posting a picture every day until yoongi is home

[spotaus]

Ichor's back again! Decided to do some exercises with my silliest traumatized Sans, and the one that ended up sticking was the Cute Outfit doodles!

[cylo]

the more i stare at n's talking sprite the more angry i get about his hair. like. can you chill tf out

[ap-kinda-lit]

Vader: Luke, get out of the TIE Fighter.

Luke, popping out from TIE Fighter: You’re not my father!

Vader: I am your father. Now get out of there.

Luke: I’m literally in a TIE Fighter and you’re not!

Vader: Luke—!

Luke: You are not my father!

Vader: I am your father!

[arthur-lesters-criminal-mind]

Episode 7 The Island

Destruction of property

locked a man out of his own home (not sure how to categorize that, but I know he shouldn't have done it!)

Trespassing