an archive... @phireads-archive - Tumblr Blog

hi everyone!

Since I barely use my main blog anymore, I’m going to move my booklr over to my main tomorrow! It will still be @phireads and this blog will likely become an archive (at least for a bit). Please follow me over there, if you want <3

#mine

phireads

Dear person who changed Pierre Bezukhov’s Comet wiki page,

I love you

phireads

Not to hop on the Loving Ramin Karimloo wagon but if Gleb had to k*ll me to cement the new government, I would totally be fine with that

luna-and-mars

Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 told with My Immortal quotes

[more]

(because I can)

tonal-gleeson

You and I And no one else

whattheforkdude

please unmute this

failbag

I’ve never seen high school musical and now I never need to

beccar

Basketball basketball we love basketball

ratcarney

persephone is our lady of the underground, hades is king of the underworld, eurydice is a hungry young girl, orpheus is a poor boy, and hermes is as if every single one of the fab five were combined into one person

cruiserweight

and anatole is hot, marya is old school, sonya is good, natasha is young and andrei isnt here

zenlesszen

this is all in your program, you are at the railroad

phireads

@winterwindsingsanditcriess it’s some complicated greek mythology

lesbianelizabethfrankenstein

winterwindsingsanditcriess

@eurydice-neumann

phireads

me rn oml help me

showerthoughtsofficial

History class is really just catching you up to speed on everything you missed before you were born.

deepfriedtwinkie

Previously On………uh…just….fucking everything

brawltogethernow

(Glee recap voice) Here’s what you missed on

Ę̧̀͘͠Ą̴́͠R̷̕T̴̴̨͜͟H́͠͠

winterwindsingsanditcriess

@eurydice-neumann

phireads

“#I saw a glee reference and thought of you” Zach! You’re a gem and I love you!

phireads

*Me after seeing the latest ITH news*

CHRIS JACKSON, CHRIS JACKSON, CHRIS JACKSON, ARE YOU SOFTEE?

phireads

@lyrabelacquasilvertongue Did you see that they’ve started advertising & Juliet on telly? I screamed when I saw Miriam!

andjulietoutofhell-deactivated2

oh my god WHAT I DIDN’T SHIT THANK YOU FOR INFORMING ME OF THIS BLESSED NEWS! I need to start watching more live tv outside of the BBC! I would’ve screamed also, oh lord!

phireads

I know! I literally shrieked “FRANKIE DA BOY!” and my family looked at me like I’d lost my marbles

andjulietoutofhell-deactivated2

we have a living legend in our midst, thank you for unashamedly yelling the name of our virginals impulsive in love pure lad, spread the word no matter how mad you seem

phireads

All shall know of the virginals and of course, Dubois band!

phireads

Okay @winterwindsingsanditcriess. Since it’s your birthday and I can’t actually send you anything I thought I’d give you the next best thing… a piece of my weird, weird mind. So you know how two of your dream roles are Romeo and Moritz? I thought I’d give you the crossover NOBODY has been waiting for! Presenting…

It was a bitter March morning and Moritz Stiefel was done. His paper on the Habsburgs had been completed and he was heading across campus to hand it in. The wind whipped his messy hair into an even wilder frenzy. There were new buds sprouting on the trees but the petals all paled in colour as the charcoal sky engulfed the world around them. The day felt more like night - and a miserable one at that.

But Moritz had a spring in his step. Today was the day he was going away forever.

As he swung open the heavy doors which led into the History corridors, he smiled. It was a wide smile - one that could maybe even be considered a grin - and felt almost foreign on his lips. Had it been so long since he had last been truly happy? Moritz could believe it.

The last few months of his short existence had been awful, to say the least. He had been failing classes rapidly and with every poor exam, there was an exponential increase in his parents’ disappointment.

One more unsatisfactory grade, Moritz had thought, and he would be exiled from the house, his childhood village, perhaps even the whole of Germany. Not that any of that mattered now.

There had been a time, not all that long ago, when he had considered something far more drastic than running off to America. Such an act had been a real possibility to Moritz for quite a while. He was not too sure when this plan had finally diffused.

Could it have been the day when he woke up early, by sheer accident, and saw the sun rising over the hills? Or the day when Ilse Neumann had snuck him an extra piece of chocolate cake from the school kitchen and he was reminded that kindness still existed?

Moritz did not know and didn’t want to know either. All he knew was that that period of his life was behind him and would hopefully remain that way.

Soon after this episode had faded away, Moritz began to formulate his new (and current) plan. The journey to the US would be long and expensive. But he had saved the money given to him by some aunt in Switzerland and, considering all he had endured, he was pretty certain he could manage seasickness.

He would leave today, reach the coast tomorrow, and set sail the day after. His ticket had been purchased and now sat in his blazer pocket for safe keeping. In two days Moritz Stiefel would have turned his back on Europe and that was all there was to it.

He turned the small slip of paper over and over in his hand as he merrily advanced into the building. When he reached Room S18, he knocked and was lazily beckoned from within.

Upon stepping into the room, Moritz’s nerves calmed. Herr Holzmann peered over his half-moon glasses at the visitor. He sighed and set some papers aside on his desk. As he shifted, the glow of candlelight cast long shadows on the wall behind him and exaggerated every line on his aging face.

Herr Holzmann was one of the few people who still solely used candles instead of embracing electricity. Whenever a student asked him why, he would reply:

“You act as your contemporaries do, and I act as mine.”

Herr Holzmann’s “contemporaries” were of course the Kings and Queens of centuries past. It tickled Moritz every time he said that…

“Herr Stiefel,” said the man, disinterested, “how may I help you?”

The boy snapped back into reality.

“Ah, um. I’ve brought my assignment on the Habsburgs.” he replied, the paper rippling in his hands. His teacher sighed once more and took off his glasses wearily.

“Would this be the assignment which was due last week?”

Moritz could feel his cheeks flushing red,

“Um. Yeah… Yes it is, Sir”

A final sigh from Herr Holzmann. He pursed his lips:

“I see… Well? Give it here.”

The boy nodded frantically,

“Of course, Herr Holzmann. Th-thank you, Herr Holzmann,” Moritz stammered, stumbling forward and thrusting his essay into the teacher’s outstretched hand.

Herr Holzmann held the paper to the light. His scrutinising eyes scanned the text.

“I’m pleased to say, Herr Stiefel,” he began, barely relinquishing any of his attention to the boy, “that this isn’t all that bad.”

Now that, that was high praise indeed. Moritz suppressed a laugh. He had done well. When he regained his composition, he found Herr Holzmann staring at him as though he were a circus clown.

“You may leave, Herr Stiefel.”

“Yes, of course, Sir.” Moritz hastened back to the door and turned the brass knob. He paused, not daring to glance over his shoulder and said:

“Thank you again, Herr Holzmann. For everything.”

It was only when he actually left and the door had clicked shut, that Moritz allowed himself to truly laugh. The sound echoed through the draughty corridors and streamed out the open windows like water.

Had anyone, teacher or student, heard him in that moment, he would not have cared. This was the last day he would see any of them anyway.

He was glad, though, that Herr Holzman had been satisfied by his paper. Why? Because he had let down every teacher he ever had. So if he could show this man that he had learnt something - even just the short history of one empirical family - he would know that he wasn’t completely useless after all. It was also a final demonstration of gratitude for all the subtle confidence which Herr Holzmann had had in him.

That was all over now. He could move onto the penultimate, most jeopardising step. Retrieving his bags and leaving campus. Unseen.

———–>>>>>>>———–>>>>>>>———–>>>>>>>———–>>>>>>>————–

… TO BE CONTINUED…

Have you ever seen such trash? I doubt it! hahahaha

Anyway, happy sixteenth bro. Have a good day!

onceiwashere

i cant believe its daylight savings time and i havent seen the “hello its me your cousin oskaar from iceland” video on my dash yet you are all slackers

onceiwashere