#orrpheus

[deepblueokay]

orrpheus replied to your post: O...

this is the best of responses. also am 100% with you re: commit to being ridiculous or just get better instead of swinging back and forth all the time. also needs less ~witches~ but maybe that’s just me.

i don't know if the starz edit is going to be more ridiculous or if it's just that they have more sex scenes. maybe the starz edit has like bubbling cauldrons and warwick throwing things and 1000% more smirky david oakes reaction shots

[deepblueokay]

OKAY can i ask how you are feeling about the white queen? because i literally cannot decide, at times it's pretty great but then most of the time it's really really stupid I JUST CAN'T DECIIIIDE.

i mean, i'm really enjoying it? but not because it's GOOD. apart from janet mcteer the only woodville i care about watching is anthony because LOL BEN LAMB, HOW DID THIS HAPPEN, WHY ARE YOU A THING NOW, like max irons but meh on edward; i'm just way more into david oakes doing his patented thing and james frain stropping about and MAGGIE B'S EVERYTHING. but it's so stupid. and i feel like i either want it to commit to being FULLY STUPID or to just be better? but even if that doesn't happen i'll probably stick it out. BECAUSE MAGGIE B.

[mr-segundus]

orrpheus replied to your post: the thing about not only studying but being...

where will you be going to uni? i will come to your uni and force my way into any production because i cannot help myself and am shameless

Hopefully East Anglia and YES PLEASE I really want to do this especially after Nikki sent me the video of her doing gender-swapped history boys eeeeee!

[plutoandpersephone]

orrpheus replied to your post: time to sit in my underwear and cry about how hot...

want ice cream?

there will never be a time in my life when i don't want ice cream!!!

seriously though - it's nearly midnight and it's still like 26 degrees - i'm going to pledge weather troubles as a reason for failing my exams

francoisabernathy replied to your post: time to sit in my underwear and cry about how hot...

here you can have some of my city’s cold rain today.

can i have the rain as a localised cloud above my head - it can follow me, but not in a gloomy way just in an Englishwoman abroad kind of way

[plutoandpersephone]

orrpheus replied to your post: orrpheus replied to your photo: ...

will you let me do plaits in your hair when you’re back in london? lots and lots of plaits. with flowers.

uuhhhmmm OBVIOUSLY

[plutoandpersephone]

orrpheus replied to your photo: redyed at last

YOU ARE MY FAVOURITE MERMAID

I'M MAKING THE TRANSFORMATION I PROMISE

[mr-segundus]

Mimi just came to get some allen keys and she brought me chocolate which was unnecessary but THANK YOU

[grahamarthurchapman]

when i was fifteen i missed school for a few weeks and when i got back, we not only had a new science teacher but he insisted that i sit a physics test with the rest of the class even though i hadn't been there for ANY of the coursework. i sat there for the whole hour and wrote a six page essay on the physics test that was equal parts gushing pretentiously about wilde and sassoon, and handed it in. my teacher wasn't impressed. it was the best thing i've ever done. sadly, i never got it back.

Mimi you are amazing I am actually in hysterics. <3

Part of my GCSE English grade involved a “talking and listening” assessment to be graded internally by our then-English teacher, who decided that we would each give a presentation to the class about “our favourite place”. I, being the conscientious student I have proven myself time and time again to be, a) completely forget that this was a thing until I walked into class on the day of the test, and b) blanked entirely as to where my favourite place ought to be. By the grace of having a surname that starts with S, I sat through much of the double period, watching other people speak (about their vacation houses, grandparents’ homes and bedrooms, majoritively, if memory serves) and covertly bullshitting like hell in my notebook. Eventually, when my name was called, I proceeded to give an engaging presentation to the class, for which I received full marks, on a second-hand shop in Wales in a town near my grandparents’ house. Neither the shop nor the town (nor, indeed, the friendly townspeople about whom the ~shopkeeper~ had told me various witty anecdotes, many of which I cheerfully parroted to the class) actually exist.

(There was also the time I dressed up like a ten-year-old girl, aged sixteen, and sang The Sun’ll Come Out Tomorrow for my GCSE Music practical exam, and got full marks again because the examiner thought I was cute, but I’ve told that story before~)