#and conor

[jennydiane]

Hi, Tumblr, this is one of, like two whole places I can post this, so here goes: I’m in love with the most fascinating, enchanting, cool, sweet, beautiful, wonderful girl who makes me want to dance around to Rilo Kiley songs but I know in my heart that she’s straight and yeah that’s the post

[doebt]

positive post to balance that out thiugh , some ppl's voices are so comforting, idk what it is that makes them that way

[peppermintstickinsect]

[gentlypettheunknown]

I miss my desktop.

[baronofthesky]

oh come on, pegging is a thing.

normal dinnertime conversation with @just-living-la-vida-loki and @fraukeisonline

[lovewrecker]

when ur tryna vent about shit but all ur friends follow u on tumblr and even though they wont ask u about it, theyll talk about it to each other lol 

[weirdsewing]

I have a problem guys. More Empire Fic.

Smiths

The three of them were still new to Anvil, and they'd been walked to the restaurant by the knights; They'd get to know names properly later, but Pippin for the life of them couldn't tell you what they were now. They knew them by sight; “my lady” would have to do in a pinch.

What this meant, of course, is that when the marchers led them off into the Wintermark camp, none of them knew they were going the wrong way. Mutterings about fetching armour, and finding the right place to bond it to the knights errant somehow turned into a heated discussion.

“A theme pub!”

“What?” Pippin was fairly certain that this meant something important, but if it did then they'd missed a good half the conversation.

“The Forge. They've turned it into a theme pub.” And there was the grumpiness of the marchers they'd heard about.

“Oh.” They hadn't seen it; didn't even know what it looked like.

“The tools are all nailed on the walls.”

“The bellows are nailed shut.”

As it seemed like the Smiths would go on a tirade about the pub, Clovis, evidently impatient, stopped them.

“Look, we'll get the armour off you tomorrow. Can anyone do the binding?”

“Anyone with a spare bit of mana.”

So when Pippin found themselves lying on the field, barely able to move with the pain of injuries that would eventually kill them, with their head on the leg of a marcher draughir who they recognised rather well they almost laughed. They never had collected their set of armour.

[whydontwefall]

I met my new favourite group of guys tonight and I hope to become very good friends with them very soon because they are buckets of fun and I wish to spend more time with them