Good Omens But Crowley Wears These

MAN WE WERE HAVING BOPS WHY THE BALLAD GODDAMN IT

This brings me joy

Tombstones of Ancient Roman Dogs

Aeolidis tumulum festivae cerne catellae, quam dolui inmodice raptam mihi praepete fato.

Behold the tomb of Aeolis, the cheerful little dog, whose loss to fleeting fate pained me beyond measure.

Raeda[r]um custos numquam latravit inepte. nunc silet et cineres vindicat um- bra suos.

This guard of the coaches never barked unsuitably. Now he is silent and his shade protects his ashes.

Quam dulcis fuit ista quam benigna quae cum viveret in sinu iacebat somni conscia semper et cubilis o factum male Myia quod peristi latrares modo si quis adcubaret rivalis dominae licentiosa o factum male Myia quod peristi altum iam tenet insciam sepulcrum nec sevire potes nec insilire nec blandis mihi morsib(us) renides.

How sweet and friendly she was! While she was alive she used to lie in the lap, always sharing sleep and bed. What a shame, Midge, that you have died! You would only bark if some rival took the liberty of lying up against your mistress. What a shame, Midge, that you have died! The depths of the grave now hold you and you know nothing about it. You cannot go wild nor jump on me, and you do not bare your teeth at me with bites that do not hurt.

Portavi lacrimis madidus te nostra catella, quod feci lustris laetior ante tribus. ergo mihi, Patrice, iam non dabis osculla mille nec poteris collo grata cubare meo. tristis marmorea posui te sede merentem et iunxi semper manib(us) ipse meis, morib(us) argutis hominem simulare paratam; perdidimus quales, hei mihi, delicias. tu dulcis, Patrice, nostras attingere mensas consueras, gremio poscere blanda cibos, lambere tu calicem lingua rapiente solebas quem tibi saepe meae sustinuere manus, accipere et lassum cauda gaudente frequenter

Bedewed with tears I have carried you, our little dog, as in happier circumstances I did fifteen years ago. So now, Patrice, you will no longer give me a thousand kisses, nor will you be able to lie affectionately round my neck. You were a good dog, and in sorrow I have placed you in a marble tomb, and I have united you forever to myself when I die. You readily matched a human with your clever ways; alas, what a pet we have lost! You, sweet Patrice, were in the habit of joining us at table and fawningly asking for food in our lap, you were accustomed to lick with your greedy tongue the cup which my hands often held for you and regularly to welcome your tired master with wagging tail.

Source: Electronic Archive of Greek and Latin Epigraphy

Queen Lizzie died on my 18th birthday I'd say that's a pretty good omen for my future

Hookup culture is out. Doomed yaoi is in

It will never not be funny to me that in Thousand Autumns, Shen Qiao is just the one normal, reasonable person while everyone else is living in a classic Wuxia drama

Basically every book conversation is just this:

Yu Ai: I had to poison you because you disagreed with everything I said, so I deemed you an incapable and naive sect leader! You would bring Mt. Xuandu to ruin!

Shen Qiao: I'm sorry, "had" to? We could've talked things out, y'know, like how normal people settle disagreements, but no, poison was clearly the only option left. You "had" to poison me. Right.

---

Yan Wushi: You and I are diametrically opposed. You are weak and undeserving of my attention. You fail to live up to my expectations and bring shame upon your master's legacy. Why would I need a friend like you so presume?

Shen Qiao: I didn't say you needed one, just that that's what I call you. You literally followed me around for months, ate with me, sparred with me, saved my life, and opened my eyes to the outside world... What on earth did you want me to call you that wouldn't be rude?

(Honestly knowing YWS's melodramatic ass, SQ probably just went through a mental list of statuses you could give to someone based on their proximity, realized that YWS is very much an outlier and also very much particular about his titles and general importance, picked "friend" as the safest option.)

---

Chen Gong: You look down on me because I'm from poor origins and never had the background or pedigree that you did so you disdain my methods!

Shen Qiao: ... You are holding. A child. Hostage. Literally every time I've met you you're doing something that doesn't agree with my morals and endangering human life. I genuinely do not care about your background, you just happen to be doing something I don't agree with and also tends to end up becoming my problem.

(No really, CG has like such a massive unrequited hatred for SQ while SQ is just lamenting that they somehow always end up meeting at the worst times in the worst places)

---

Half of the characters: Look how lowly you've become! From sect leader to boy toy! Everyone point and laugh!

Shen Qiao: Harsh but true, I suppose. Oh well, I should get back to what I'm doing.

I love the phrase "they get along like a house on fire". It's perfect. You and me have perfect chemistry and it's setting off the carbon monoxide detectors. People are calling emergency services to get us to stop being so chummy. Someone died