Anon: Stop putting flowers in your hair Me: LEAF ME ALONE 🍃

Big bro Alec @MatthewDaddario and his little bro, Max. @ShadowhuntersTV

What “Ghetto” Names Really Mean

“Tinashe” -  Means “God is with us” in Shona ( An African language spoken by nearly 80 percent of people in Zimbabwe.)

“Lakeisha” - A Swahili name meaning “favorite one.”

“Ashanti” -  Name of a powerful African empire in West Africa.

“Tanisha” - Hausa of West Africa name meaning “born on Monday.”

“Zola” - Means “quiet, tranquil” in Zulu.    

“Amandla” -  Zulu and Xhosa word meaning “power”. The word was a popular rallying cry in the days of resistance against Apartheid.

“Zendaya” - Means “ To Give Thanks” in Shona

“Latonia” -  A Latin name. Latonia was the mother of Diana in Roman mythology.

“Lulu” - Swahili and Muslim name meaning “pearl” or “precious.”

“Ciara” -  Means “dark-haired” in Irish Gaelic

“Lateefah” - A North African name meaning “gentle and pleasant.”

“Mercedes” - Means “Gracious gifts/Benefits) in Spanish

“Kaya” - Ghanaian language (Ga) phrase that means “don’t go or stay.”  

“Amara” -  The Swahili word amara, meaning “urgent business.” Also the Hindu name meaning “immortal.”

“Shanika” - African Bantu name, meaning “young one from the wilderness.

“Zuri” - Means “beautiful” in Swahili.

“Onika” - Word of African origin meaning “warrior.”

JUST BECAUSE A NAME SOUNDS DIFFERENT DOES NOT MEAN IT’S “RATCHET” OR “GHETTO” THEY HAVE BEAUTIFUL MEANINGS.

EVERY NAME DESERVE RESPECT, NOT TRADITIONAL “WESTERN” NAMES.

DON’T BE IGNORANT, LEARN.

Sky Ladder

Chinese artist Cai Guo­-Qiang fourth and final attempt to complete the sky ladder performance happened successfully above Huiyu Island Harbour, Quanzhou, China. A huge white balloon filled with 6,200 cubic meters of helium carried the 500-meter long ladder coated completely with quick burning fuses and gold fireworks which were ignighted when the correct height was reached. Guo­-Qiang had attempted the same perfomance in Bath (1994), Shanghai (2001), and in Los Angeles (2012). 

black models at valentino fall 2015 couture + close-ups

[Insp.]

“As our ship approached the massive ice cap, I was shocked to see a string of waterfalls that straddled the entire expanse of the melting ice” 

Nordaustlandet, Svalbard, Norway. Photo by Paul Nicklen.  

Laura Kinney in X-23 #21 (2012)

(via twistlickdunkxz)

This Beautiful Planetarium Watch Puts the Solar System on Your Wrist

the-darkest-of-lights

yes

I know right

She dreamed of Medical School. She was killed during the recent Israeli airstrikes with all of her family members except 1 brother. Her high school diploma lies on the rubbles of her home. 

colored eyes isn’t exclusively for white people

Louder for the racists in the back.

Color knows know limits especially POC

She Waited For 63 Years

I want someone to write a book where Mermaids are the women thrown off ships when the sailors got afraid because having a woman on the boat is bad luck. And as they sink to the bottom, legs tied together, they change slowly until they can breathe, until they can use their tied up legs to swim. And they drown sailors in revenge, luring them in by singing in their husky voices still stinging from the salt water they breathed. 

someone please write this

“Please, don’t do this!” her voice comes out hoarse, cracked. The men leer at her, their gazes cold.

“Storm is comin’ now” the captain says. He is the worst, because in his eyes there is regret. Compassion. Pity. He doesn’t want to do it. Not like the others do. But that won’t stop him.

“Told your father a ship is no place for a girl,” he says. “Told ‘im to find another vessel, told ‘im to just keep you home, if e’ had ta. But did he listen? If you want someone to blame, miss, blame him. Tha ocean is cold, cold and cruel. And she ain’t gonna let us through this without payment, without a cost.”

The wind blows his gray hair back from his face, and he nods at one of the crewman - the one who’s eyes always linger on her for too long - and he steps forward and jabs Alice in the side with a paddle from one of the rowboats. She cries out, even though she doesn’t want to, even though she wants to scream instead, scream and curse the way a lady of her standing is never meant to do. She wants to curse them all to a watery grave and watch as they suffer.

She tries to move, tries to run past them, to break the rope binding her legs at the ankles through sheer power of will. She fails.

The crewman jabs at her again, and she spits at him. The glob of saliva hits him on the face, spittle clinging to his sun-tanned skin. His crewmates laugh.

Alice realizes her mistake too late.

His eyes darken, he steps forward - and he strikes her across the face with the paddle so hard she’s twisted around, so hard she sees black and careens of the gangplank and plummets to the dark, thrashing water below.

The captain was right: the sea is cold. Colder than any hell she’s ever imagined. Colder than the time she fell face first into a deep puddle on the street in the dead of winter. She feels the ice flood her mouth, fill her lungs, turn every vein and bone bitter blue with frost. She can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t move.

The water tosses her against the hull of the ship and she feels her skull crack against the worn wood. The world fades, and she begins to die…

She remembers the sea, through the darkness. Remembers tossing her friend Lydia into the waves at the beach, remembers their laughter as Lydia pulled her in as well. She remembers dunking her head under, feeling the rush of cold fill her up as she became lighter than she’d ever been, became part of the water.

‘The sea is cold,’ she remembers the captain saying. Yes, she thinks, but I am colder.

And the ocean? she realizes. The ocean is her sister.

She feels it filling her up, feels it caressing her body, enveloping her. Not killing her, but cradling her. A sister holding up her own blood, a mother, soothing her wailing child, kissing the hurt away. A goddess, hearing the prayers of her devoted believer, and answering them.

I have salt and seawater in my soul, Captain. I will show you how cold these waters can be.

She feels the edges of her body fading, feels herself stop being a me and become a we, become an us, become every drop of water and every clump of foam and every weed and every wave. Feels herself changing.

Her dress is pulled away by the waves, button by button, seam by seam. The sea strips her, soothes her skin. She feels herself swaying, feels her injuries healing. Feels herself become something more than a scared girl or a single spot of death in a pool of life, as her body flares like a fire, as her legs brush together, as they begin to fuse…

She feels herself heal, and she feels herself change.

When it is over, she is bare, but she feels no shame. Her tail twists in the water beneath her, swaying, more natural than her legs ever felt. Stronger, too. She runs her hand over the dark blue scales, the same shade as the surface in a storm. She feels herself smile.

Siren, she thinks, mermaid. Sister of the sea.

The captain was right; a ship is no place for a woman. This is the place for a woman.

And when she drags him screaming down into it, he will realize: the ocean may be cruel…but her sisters are worse.

Alice smiles again, and begins to swim after the ship fading into the distance.

Holi, India

Also known as the festival of colors and love, this vivid spring festival brings all people together. The social barriers break completely, friend or stranger, rich or poor, men or women, children or elders, Hindu or not, all people come together to celebrate the end of the winter season. And most important to celebrate that everyone is the same!

How to write a kiss

Rebloggable version, as requested by davrosbro. :)

Oooh!  Yes!  I love kisses.  Kisses are where it all starts ;).

Okay, first, remember that kiss is much, much more than just lips.  It is lips, but also tongues, teeth, eyes, faces, hands, noses, bodies, heartbeats,  breath, voice- and most importantly, a kiss is emotions.  A kiss without emotion is just wet mushy lips stuck together.  Ew.  Gross.  The most important part of a kiss isn’t the how, but the who- because of the emotions between the two people.

Okay so:

lips- Lips can slide, glide over each other smoothly, or they can be chapped and rough and dry and get stuck on each other.  They can match, top-to-top and bottom-to-bottom, or they can overlap, with one person’s top or bottom lip captured between the other person’s lips (yummy).  If there is lipstick or chapstick there is lipstick or chapstick flavor, otherwise, lips don’t have a taste (can you taste yours?).  Lips also can smack- the sound of two of them coming together or pulling apart, because they’re wet and warm and soft. 

tongue- Tongues are always wet, and always warm.  They’re very versatile.  They can trace over lips, teeth, or another tongue.  They can be smooth and graceful or teasing and flicking.  When tongues are involved, there is drool.  It’s only sexy when you like the person you’re kissing, or else it’s kinda gross. :P

teeth- teeth can clack together awkwardly, or teeth can bite down sensually.  A person biting their own lip is cute, a person biting another’s lips is sexy.  A person biting gently is sensual, a person biting roughly is sexual. 

eyes- Eyes can be wide open with surprise, half-lidded with desire, fully closed with pleasure.  Eyes can gaze lovingly, lustfully, wistfully, hungrily, seductively- it all depends upon the emotions of your characters.  Have them do whatever you like, but don’t leave them out- give them at least a mention!

faces- Faces are what the lips are attached to.  Noses bump, cheeks flush, ears turn red, foreheads either wrinkle or relax.  Kisses can leave lips, quite easily, and become kisses on chins, cheeks, noses, foreheads, ears, necks, throats.  Kisses on noses or foreheads are cute and adorable, kisses on cheeks are sweet, kisses on chins, ears, and throats are very sexual.  And a kiss on the lips can be all of those! <3

hands- Hands are super-important.  In order to describe a kiss, usually you want to also describe the hands.  Where are they?  Does one character have on on the back of the other’s head or back, holding them close?  Are they on someone’s shoulders pulling them near, or pushing them away?  Fingers brushing someone’s cheek or palms grabbing someone’s ass convey two very different kinds of situations, even if the kiss itself is exactly the same.

noses- Noses are annoying.  They easily get in the way, especially for first kisses!  People have to tilt their head to one side or the other, and if they don’t, noses bump.  I’d only mention noses if a kiss is supposed to be awkward or uncertain or nervous.

bodies- bodies are either close together, or far away.  Someone can be surrounded comfortingly by someone’s arms, or terrifyingly trapped by them.  Bodies are warm or hot, they are calm or nervous, relaxed or tense.  Body language says a lot.  Is your character pulling away, or moving closer?

heartbeat- Hearts can beat fast or slow, and that’s about all they can do- but there are lots of reasons why they do!  A heart can beat fast with fear or excitement or nervousness; a heart can pound with lust or race with terror or sing with joy.  Hearts can glow, cower, or shatter.  When you really want to drive the emotions of a character home, mention the heart.

breath- To me, the most consuming part of a kiss is the breath.  The air that someone else has just breathed going deep into your lungs is very intimate.  Lips and tongues don’t have a taste, but breath does.  Each person’s breath tastes different, smells different, and surrounds a person differently than anyone else’s breath.  Breath can be warm and sweet, breath can be hot and sexy, breath can be hot and frightening.  It is something that is very present and should not be left out.  A lot of writers leave breath out.  And it’s so important; it’s the most intimate part of a kiss.  Someone else is breathing into your lungs, and it’s either heaven or it’s hell.

voice- Voice conveys much, even without words.  A voice can groan, whimper, gasp, moan, catch, whine, scream, sigh.  Voice can convey emotion powerfully, and while some kisses are silent, usually they’re not. 

emotion-  Emotion is the most important- and the thing you try not to say.  You want to describe it, through all of the things above, so that it’s perfectly clear what your characters are feeling, without you ever using the “feelings words”.  If they’re in love, their bodies will lean close, their eyes will smile, their voices will giggle softly.  If they’re nervous, their palms will sweat, their noses will bump, their voices will shudder.  If they’re afraid, their muscles will be tense, their faces will grimace, their lips will not open.  Emotion is the color that you keep inside your mind as you write; it’s the base line that drives the description behind everything else you say.

Wow, that was a lot!  Gosh I hope it wasn’t too much!  Keep in mind not every kiss has all these things- this is just a list of things to consider when writing a kiss, and based on how long of a kiss you want to make.  Keep in mind that typing “they kissed for a long time”…that’s six words, it takes half a second to read, so that’s a short kiss!  If you want a long kiss, you need long sentences that make the reader linger. 

So maybe to start off, pick three things on the list to describe in your first kiss.  Don’t try to do it all- that would be too much for even the most epic kiss.  Just pick what’s most important to this particular scene, to these particular characters, and describe those parts along with the lips, and you’ve got yourself an awesome, emotional kiss. <3

writer aesthetics

john keats: the lavender in sunsets, flowers in the rain, sunlight slipping through clouds, lazy summer afternoons, the heavy scent of musk, flickering candlelight reflecting off the gold titles of books, fireflies on a cool summer night, being wrapped in fresh bedsheets, the ache of wanting what you can never have, dripping sunlight like gold, loving someone so exquisite, soft lips and soft whispers, fingers through hair, names of lovers carved in trees, broken glass, the insistence of being perpetually dreamy

f. scott fitzgerald: mahogany wood, crisp winter skies with cold bright stars, the solitude of an early autumn morning wrapped in fog, empty bottles on stacks and stacks of books haphazardly placed in a messy room, pale bruised arms reaching out into the darkness, cigarette smoke just barely hiding the scent of alcohol, a wall of books all poetry and old and weathered, a bad thunderstorm occurring at the end of a beautiful day, the way tragedy strikes in your heart but ends up stopping your breathing for a moment,  your favorite sweater, parties spilling into four a.m. with the stars above spinning and dancing, the contrast of blood against snow, a purple split lip oozing blood, black eyes fading to blue to pale skin, the butterflies of falling in love for the first time, the statues falling apart over time in cemeteries, the romanticization of self-destruction

franz kafka: the weight of dread that sits heavily in your stomach when thinking about the future, decrepit houses cloaked in mystery from children telling stories of people who died there, the way not even light can escape a black hole, the rich smell of old books,  delicate veins in the wrist, ghosts filling lungs, shattered bones, raindrops on the tongue, rusting metal, nostalgia that aches, the way hope feels like a plastic bag over your head

h.p. lovecraft:  the anxiety felt when staring into an unknown cave, pouring rain and mud, a child’s fear of the dark, thinking so many questions about your existence as you stare at the vast expanse of never ending ocean,  the silence of three a.m.,  danse macabre by camille saint-saens playing on a record in an empty house, the possibility of aliens and the weird feeling it gives you that you can’t explain, unexplainable phenomena, strange lights in the sky in the dead of night, ouija boards and urban legends

jack kerouac: the brisk pine air of being on a mountain, travels without a destination, those nights where you’re missing three hours of memory, screaming to a lifeless desert about how you’re so alive, coffee shops late at night, car rides at night spent speeding and laughing in the dark, naps spent in the sun,  novels highlighted and underlined with notes and epiphanies in the margins, the way uncertainty sits on the shoulders, ignoring flaws and loving life, wind through hair, depression as fog in the brain, impossible ideals, a quiet sunrise, walks alone, when you think about trying to discover all the secrets to the universe, dazzling people, open lands stretching out into infinity, falling in love with being alive

edgar allan poe: the ocean’s horizon inseparable from fog, hollow bones, a preserved heart held in hands, twinkling stars above an old graveyard, the way everything turns to dust, silent black birds with eyes full of wisdom, self-inflicted flames, perfection depicted as a rotting corpse, death as bricks in the heart, lips barely brushing against each other, glassy glazed eyes, biting into a lemon,  heart-shaped bruises, rotting flowers on a grave, dried blood and spilled liquor, the hush of dusk when it begins raining, the intimacy of a secret

5 Ways To Keep Me Reading Your First Chapter

Camp NaNoWriMo 2014 has officially launched! Whether you’re writing a new novel, tackling a screenplay, or finishing an existing piece of work, Camp is a writing free-for-all. For those of you still on your publishing journey before Camp, Blair Thornburgh, assistant editor at Quirk Books, explains what makes her stop reading a manuscript:

I was recently at a conference where an editor detailed her method for critiquing a first draft. The complicated process was as follows:

Brash. Ballsy. Take-no-prisoners.

But what specifically makes an editor grind to a halt and refuse to go on? Opinions differ, of course, but as far as I’m concerned there are some pretty basic “don’t"s that make me want to close a document while I’m reading a sample chapter:

Keep reading

A Tasting Menu of Female Representation:

The Bechdel:

The Mako Mori:

The Sexy Lamp:

Chef’s Specials:

The Anti-Freeze:

The “Strength is Relative”:

never thought i’d be willing to sell my soul for leggings but here we are