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{ Some haikus I have written to commemorate this occasion }


1. Arthur Ashe floods with my tears

Flushing, rain delay.
I, hundreds of miles away,
delayed in mourning


2. Dear Kei Nishikori

I hoped you would lose.
Am I a bad Asian, Kei?
(You’re really cute though)


3. Self-reflection

Why the hell did we
Think two Slams would go to this
Serbian garbage heap?


4. Needlessly aggressive disclaimer

Wait, don’t get me wrong.
I say “Serbian garbage heap”
But I’d kill for him.


5. Accurate transcription of my emotions

Novak Djokovic
Dammit Novak Djokovic


6. For law enforcement officials

Please understand that
Haiku number four was just
A figure of speech


7. Sotto voce

(But he’s his worst enemy
So what can I do?)


8. Collective prayer for the wounded soul

Give us the strength to
Survive the next few weeks, for
Shanghai comes apace



I am horrifyingly late in answering this, but YAY I’M SO GLAD YOU READ THE BOOK ANON! :D Post in reference. It is only fair that Lolita ruin road trips forever for you, in much the same way that it has ruined forever for me 1. paper maps, 2. the name “Mona”, 3. playwrights, 4. lawn sprinklers, 5. tennis, etc., etc., pretty much an endless litany of things that have anything even remotely to do with the book. I’m sorry that literature ruins lives! That’s what stories turn us into, human beings unfit to navigate the haphazard and unassimilable wreckage-strewn oceans of existence but seriously folks, I don’t think I’ve ever met a book I liked that didn’t ruin every life it sidled into. WE ARE SUSTAINED ONLY BY RUIN, ANON. OUR DESTRUCTION IS OUR CREATION. Oh god this is even more needlessly wordy and nonsensical than usual, but I have a big exam coming up for which I have been mainlining nauseating amounts of litcrit, so… hopefully I will get better… sorry about this… what an awful answer to an ask dl;glkhd

More after the cut!

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Traveling for two weeks, see you soon! (Is that a Team Rocket sweater, Grantaire?)


I've just finished reading The Three Musketeers. Should I keep going or would that worsen the emotional pain? ?? please advise

Oh no anon for some reason this message didn’t show up in my inbox as unread so I don’t know if you have already launched yourself into the rest of the saga in which case you are probably already in a fetal position on the floor sobbing uncontrollably and hiccuping P-PORTHOS over and over again as you cradle the book / books / e-reader / a box of tissues / a bejeweled cloak to your chest. But if you haven’t yet, then, uh… GO AHEAD! NOTHING BAD WILL HAPPEN! THEY ALL RETIRE FROM MUSKETEER DUTY BECAUSE OF OLD AGE AND THEN THEY BECOME CALLED UP INTO THE HEAVENS AND PLACED IN THE NIGHT SKY AS A CONSTELLATION CALLED “ETERNAL FRIENDSHIP WITH NO BETRAYALS OR IDEOLOGICAL CONFLICTS WHATSOEVER”.

The constellation is in the shape of a bishop’s hat



and then they all died :(

THEY DID, ANON! THEY DID. Related to which: I know that I have spectacularly failed to do anything at all for Barricade Day, but that is because I was moving across town on the 6th and I am still in the process of trying to turn this house into a home! I had a whole comic planned out and everything, but packing and moving and unpacking really takes a lot out of you, as it turns out. So whereas I am probably going to spend the next week or so continuing to wrestle with room layouts and assembling an endless stream of IKEA furniture, I will come crawling back sometime in the near future with a Barricade Day thing which will not be worth the wait so I don’t even know why I mentioned it at all, at least it might have been a pleasant surprise if it came with no foreknowledge, but now I’ve just ruined it, god, I’ve just FUCKED IT UP FOR EVERYONE AND EVERYTHING FOREVER


WHY DID THIS HAPPEN? WHY DID THIS JUST TURN INTO SAD TROMBONE ASKS?? Why would you facilitate this but seriously, stop giving Courfeyrac any more attention, IT’S BAD FOR HIS BEHAVIOR. YOU’LL NEVER HOUSETRAIN HIM AT THIS RATE.

Just one more ask under the cut, but I’m cutting it, you can’t tell me what to do! You’re not my ideological figurehead!

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Full Trailer: ‘Interstellar' - Nov 7

Written by Jonathan and Christopher Nolan, directed by Christopher Nolan, starring Matthew McConaughey, Anne Hathaway, Michael Caine, Jessica Chastain, Wes Bentley, William Devane, Topher Grace, John Lithgow, Ellen Burstyn and Mackenzie Foy.

I like the idea of Nolan taking on environmentalism and space, and this feels like one of his most conventional films to date. There’s obviously something else going on here that we’re not seeing. It’s clear this is only covering the first act or part of the film.

That time Christopher Nolan made a movie scored by Hans Zimmer about a white single father who — assisted by the technological prowess of Michael Caine’s character — ventures forth into a majestic sci-fi realm where human perceptions of temporality are challenged… all for the sake of his children

IT’S LIKE LOOKING FORWARD TO DEJA VU I’m halfway kidding, there are no original stories, what matters isn’t the destination but how we get there, etc., etc., but most of the time I’m pretty lukewarm about how Nolan gets where he’s going, anyway. CAN WE JUST SKIP TO THE PART WHERE THE MOVIE WINS TECHNICAL AWARDS?


{ Accidental Lawyers }



Bahorel stormed into the back room of the Musain one spring afternoon, expression thunderous and clothes in uncharacteristic disarray. He all but threw himself onto a chair and drained the nearest glass of wine in a single swallow. That the glass had formerly belonged to Bossuet did not seem to trouble either of them, Bahorel being too distraught and Bossuet too concerned.

"What on earth has happened?" Bossuet asked.

"I am finished!" Bahorel declared, grabbing the bottle of wine on the table and taking a generous swig. "Disgraced! I can never show my face in public again! I shall have to change my name and grow a beard and move to the country to escape the horrible fate that has befallen me." He shuddered, pulling his coat more tightly around his frame and drinking deeply from the bottle of wine.

"Yes, but what happened?” Joly asked, frowning. “Did you kill someone?”

"Did someone catch you walking about with a mismatched coat and cravat?" Bossuet wanted to know.

"Have you caught a disfiguring disease?"

"Did you receive a compliment from Blondeau?"

At this last question Bahorel shuddered again. “Do not speak that name,” he said passionately. “Do not invoke the demon around me!”

Joly and Bossuet exchanged looks. Clearly the matter was of utmost severity. Bahorel seemed truly distressed, not merely engaging in his usual dramatics. Carefully, Bossuet put a hand on Bahorel’s shoulder while Joly ducked out to get more wine.

"Will you tell me what the trouble is?" Bossuet asked. "I will invoke no demons in your presence, you have my word."

Bahorel took a calming breath, testament to the depth of his distress. Ordinarily Bahorel disdained few things as much as calming breaths, something he had made quite clear the first time Combeferre had brought them up when a disagreement between Bahorel and Grantaire threatened to turn into a proper brawl. But this was a veritable calming breath, deep and long. Bossuet could feel Bahorel’s shoulder rise and fall and found himself wondering if maybe Bahorel had killed someone.

"I have…" Bahorel began, but could not finish. His hand shook a little as he gripped the wine bottle, which by this point was nearly empty. "I have…"

"He has passed his bar."

The voice was Jean Prouvaire’s, and it contained nothing but the utmost sympathy. It was testament to how well everyone in the room knew Bahorel that not a single person laughed. Bahorel let out a wail and buried his face in Bossuet’s coat.

"I am ruined!" he wailed, voice muffled by the fabric. "I will never be redeemed, never. This is a stain on my entire existence, no, a disgrace.”

"It will be all right," Bossuet said, squeezing Bahorel’s shoulder. "You needn’t tell anyone, you know."

"But I will know!” Bahorel insisted. “I am a lawyer now. A lawyer. Me! Do you not understand the indignity, the revulsion I feel upon uttering those words? Do you not feel how it makes my skin crawl to even consider the possibility? How can I go on, now that I have been so thoroughly betrayed?”

"Who betrayed you?" Joly asked, returning with not one but three bottles. He handed one of them to Bahorel, who took it like a man drowning, drinking eagerly as though he could reach a state of intoxication so acute that he could forget the awful events of the day.

"Everyone!" he declared. "I have been tricked most wickedly!"

Bossuet looked at Jean Prouvaire for clarification, as this last seemed in possession of at least a few more facts than Bossuet.

"A plot most foul," Jean Prouvaire said, nodding gravely. "Something straight out of the worst plays, a deed so twisted that it can only have been thought up by a servant of Satan."

"Yes, but what happened?” Joly asked again, perching on the table and frowning at first Bahorel then Jean Prouvaire.

Bahorel let out another wail as Jean Prouvaire said, “A conspiracy among the faculty. They drew him in with honey-coated words and proceeded to sting him most viciously in an act of petty revenge.”

"I’m sorry," Feuilly said, from his seat a little ways away. "I am not doubting the wickedness of the faculty, but how exactly were you tricked into passing the bar?"

"I got everything wrong!" Bahorel exclaimed, raising his head again and glowering at Feuilly. The latter, who had been glared at by various people for his entire life, was unaffected by the venom and took a small sip of his own wine. "I scored a perfect zero and the fiends passed me anyway!"

"Clearly you didn’t," he said.

"Of course I did!" Bahorel snapped. "I know the material well enough to get it wrong!"

"Ah, therein lies your mistake," Bossuet said, nodding in understanding. "To so thoroughly fail at something, one must either know nothing or know everything. You clearly do not know nothing, despite your very admirable efforts in that direction, and so clearly you know everything. A masterful stroke on their part, though a very dirty trick indeed."

"But what will I do?” Bahorel demanded. “I cannot tell them to strike this indignity from the record. I tried, and they quite rudely refused and threatened to send a letter to my parents telling them of my accomplishment.” He shuddered again. “I respect my parents far too much to subject them to such awful news.”

There was a moment of silence as everyone contemplated the next step to take. Bossuet had to admit that it did seem rather hopeless. At last, with the tone of one suggesting something to have for dinner, Jean Prouvaire offered, “You could always burn the place down.”

@kingedmundsroyalmurder  IS A GIFT TO THE FANDOM AND THE WORLD.  Thank you, this is GLORIOUS.

 Sad Trombone/ 16ruedelaverrerie's latest art made apparently more people than me remember this fic1 I don’t think they’re conencted, except thematically, but kingedmundsroyalmurder's work  deserves to be brought back anyway! Things About Bahorel Burning Down Establishments, collect the set!

(to be clear, not implying the least bit of collaboration OR plagiarism here by ANYONE, this  is purely an associative theme post,  because Bahorel Tearing Things Up is just an obvious truth of the universe that should be more celebrated! )

AHA NOW YOU CAN NO LONGER DENY THE COLLABORATION!!!!!! Or… I guess it is still not a collaboration if I unintentionally mooch off of kingedmundsroyalmurder and then intentionally mooch off of kingedmundsroyalmurder… but whatever it is, I DO IT WITH LOVE (I’m sorry! It’s my fault for not actually being in the fandom and keeping up with output!) 



Decidedly less peaceful than the previous installment, but I am in a decidedly less rational frame of mind as the deadlines advance upon me. SET EVERYTHING ON FIRE*, MODERN EDUCATION IS AN ARTIFACT OF RENAISSANCE MISOGYNY ANYWAY

*But seriously, that is dangerous and you should not do that unless you are absolutely certain that no lives are in danger and that the only financial injury will be on the part of a recognizably corporate entity