and the sentiment god!

The signs as Sylvia Plath quotes
  • Aries: “Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything, it is because we are dangerously near to wanting nothing.”
  • Taurus: “Would it be too childish of me to say: I want? But I do want: theater, light, color, paintings, wine and wonder.”
  • Gemini: “What is my life for and what am I going to do with it? I don’t know and I’m afraid. I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want.”
  • Cancer: “How we need another soul to cling to, another body to keep us warm. To rest and trust; to give your soul in confidence: I need this, I need someone to pour myself into.”
  • Leo: “Frustrated? Yes. Why? Because it is impossible for me to be God—”
  • Virgo: “What horrifies me most is the idea of being useless: well-educated, brilliantly promising, and fading out into an indifferent middle-age.”
  • Libra: “I love people. Everybody. I love them, I think, as a stamp collector loves his collection. Every story, every incident, every bit of conversation is raw material for me.”
  • Scorpio: “I’m dramatic and sloppily semi-cynical and semi-sentimental.”
  • Sagittarius: “Yet, God, I want to talk to everybody I can as deeply as I can. I want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night…”
  • Capricorn: “Nothing is real except the present, and already, I feel the weight of centuries smothering me.”
  • Aquarius: “Before I give my body, I must give my thoughts, my mind, my dreams. And you weren’t having any of those.”
  • Pisces: “It seems to me more than ever that I am a victim of introspection.”
8

Sans is great at puns and all, but we all know Papyrus is the Pun master… (forgive me)

~Poseidon, who was equal to his brother Zeus in place but not in power, and who had a surly, defiant character, he set straight to build his underwater palace where the sea of Aiges (aiga, αίγα stands for goat in greece, and the goat is one of Poseidon’s totemic representations) lies, in Euboea. In his spacious stables Poseidon’s white horses for his chariot reside, with bronze hooves and golden manes, and a golden chariot that when approaches the storms cease, and sea monsters emerge thrilling around it.~
Robert Graves

Poseidon, the primary force of the element of water, feared in his unpredictable nature and yet abundant. Poseidon’s waters are no different than those lurking inside our unconscious mind, the storms ready to emerge as we’re examining our emotional wounds, as we’re confronting the mystery of our origins and consciousness levels. Poseidon’s power is underwater, where many treasures as much as wrecks and ruins hide. We should approach Poseidon with great care and sensitivity in order not to awaken the “sea monsters” but to gain a meaningful access to inner realities.

Poseidon statue, Versailles, France

“Don’t make this sentimental.”

Previous parts: “Someone like me doesn’t get happy endings.” | “I can take care of myself.”

Word count: 1712

Warnings: none

A/N: The final part to this Bucky x reader series! Hope you guys like it.

Mood music: At Last by Martin Landh

Originally posted by little--batman

It’s three in the morning and you’re still awake, staring at the man who shared your bed. His head rests in his hands as he sleeps peacefully for the first time in seventy years and you smile as you think about how much you truly loved him. The pain he’d suffered melted away when he was with you and he looked entirely at peace and content as he slept, a welcome change to the guilt ridden hours he spent awake.

You shift against him, leaning into him as he sleeps and you curl your fingers in his soft hair; it was shorter since he cut it a few weeks ago. It suits him, you think as you study the face you fell in love with. You trace the contour of his cheek before traveling down to caress the hard edge of his jaw. You move down to his left shoulder and stroked the scars that joined his flesh to metal. Your fingers continue down to the curve of back, stroking down his spine. Then, as if a spell is broken, his eyes open to find yours gazing into them.

Keep reading

We’re Not Friends (We Could Be Anything)

***THERE IS BACKSTORY TO THIS BUT I COULDN’T FIGURE OUT HOW TO GET IT FROM MY BRAIN TO THE PAGE. So I started this off really shitty because I’m still trying to get used to writing again and this was a real pain to try to start. Harry’s just basically lowkey in love with you and you’ve never noticed*** Anyway, this is my first time writing smut in almost two years because my first attempt was such a disaster that I was too embarrassed to try again. I don’t know if it’s any good but I worked on it for a while so I wanted to post it. Enjoy, friends.

It was a cold, rainy evening when Harry shows up at your door unexpectedly.

You almost convince yourself you’re imagining things when you swing your front door open to reveal him. It makes your heart hurt a little. The thought that seeing your own best friend is so rare that you almost think it’s a dream. He’d been so distant lately, you weren’t sure if you’d ever talk to him again.

But there he is, standing silently in your doorway. You don’t say anything in greeting, waiting for him to say whatever he has to. He’s come all this way, you figure he has something important he needs to get off his chest.

If he does, he doesn’t seem to be in a rush to get it out. His mouth opens slightly and then quickly shuts again, like he wants to explain himself but thinks better of it. A sigh of annoyance, seemingly with himself, escapes his lips, and his eyes slide shut.

“I need to tell yeh somethin’,” he admits, eyes still shut. They open to your inviting features, nodding to encourage him to go on. It doesn’t seem like a conversation to have in the communal hallway of your complex so you move to give him space to come in.

Once inside, he seems to lose his voice again. His eyes stay trained on the floor, not coming to look at you even as you step closer to him.

“You can tell me anything, you know,” you remind him. He nods but still doesn’t offer much of an explanation. “So tell me.”  

Keep reading

lmao tfw when you remember james and thomas weren’t even allowed to say goodbye to each other before being separated for ten years. they were not even allowed a proper fucking goodbye 

and now, look at them. it’s every greeting, every farewell, every single sentiment rolled into one shining overwhelming moment 

good god i’m honestly going to formally request for this scene to be projected @ my funeral

I'm sorry, quick Last Knight spoiler, but

“We were brothers once.” WHERE DID THIS COME FROM. GOD MEGS, YOU’RE RANDOMLY SENTIMENTAL IN THIS FILM. (Like that Starscream thing??)

WHY didn’t Optimus immediately be like “Bitch the fuck are you talking about right now, stay on the situation at hand please for the love of the primes…” I would have fallen from my chair, lol…

little things i love about calum
  • you can see his lisp when he talks
  • his inability to grow facial hair
  • his jawline could cut a bitch
  • he is so sentimental that he has his sister’s name and parents initials tattooed on him
  • he made us a playlist named ‘for you, from me’
  • his lil baby curls 
  • the two moles on his cheek
  • the golden tone of his skin
  • how he’s so quiet in interviews but when he talks everyone listens
  • he is always accidentally covering the microphone in snapchats
  • he dm’s fans on twitter, telling them to keep living
  • he was really involved with twloha
  • he is so incredibly passionate and talented
  • when he doesn’t know what to say he sticks his tongue out
  • he’s always telling us how attractive we are
  • he has a really good relationship with his sister
  • he’s fucking obsessed with dogs
  • he writes the most beautiful songs
  • how when he laughs the corner of his eyes get all crinkly
  • his teeth are literally perfect???? how???
  • he gave up a whole soccer career to pursue music
  • he loves music so much 
  • he always remembers to say thank you, to his parents, to us, to his crew, etc
  • he’s always feeling up his tiddies 
  • cheekbones, need i say more
  • he’s got a resting bitch face, but a heart of gold
  • he puts up with michael’s shit
  • he’s learned from his mistakes
  • his chubby cheeks
  • all around squish
  • he’s always posting pictures of his butt
  • he’s always forgetting his lines
  • when he stretches his tummy shows
  • he gets so bashful when someone compliments him
Please, don't murder the flowers

Please, don’t murder the flowers
only for the sake of smelling
dead miasmas in your vase.
A hummingbird told me
that even memorial flowers
have sentimental
and musical souls like us, muggle brains.
God creatures are beautiful
when they’re fidgeting in the sun
not when they’re gobbling famished vampires.
Or you imagine your corpse
will surpass the beauty competition
that takes place every bad ass summer in hell.
Grow a secret garden buddies and you’ll dance fox trot
eternally amongst stoned eyed angels. I promise you!

[It's Kinda Complicated] Sherlock x Reader

Prompt: None

Words: 846

Warnings: Slight Swearing

SOOO I’ve literally come back from the depths of Hell… I HAD LIKE NO MOTIVATION TO WRITE, IM SO VERY SORRY Y’ALL. Hope you enjoy! :DD

—0—


Sherlock stood in front of the wall in his flat. His hands were held behind his back, while his eyes scanned over all his notes and pictures and maps.

He was having a particularly hard time with this case, and it frustrated him to absolutely no ends. And it enough for him to snap at poor Mrs. Hudson… Although that isn’t totally out of the ordinary for Sherlock. Because he was so focused on what was in front of him, it was only now had he realised that you were standing behind him staring at the wall with him, his focus was starting to slip away from the gory, gruesome pictures and instead to the fact that her hair was tickling his back. He could feel your breath fanning his shoulder, making him painfully ever aware of your presence.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N).

His little puzzle. A puzzle wrapped in an enigma, that reeked of mystery. The greatest conundrum of his entire life, and probably the only thing more infuriating than this case. It was something about you, something that made you special. Okay, yeah, sure, you were smart, incredibly smart, and far too clever for your own good. You’re confident, but not cocky like Sherlock. You know where your limits stand, you were kind too, even thought at times you could be a pain in the arse. Any one who would meet you, would be guaranteed to fall in love with you.


And it drives him absolutely mad.


Everything about you-it was just so alluring. And your amazing personality made it especially difficult on Sherlock, he was trying so hard no to fall prey to sentiment… Perhaps in a perfect world, he would’ve done something about it. But this was not a perfect world, and Sherlock was not a perfect person.

“Ya having trouble, Shirley?”

Sherlock, now snapped out of his dazed trance, shook his head slightly. It always baffled him out how fuzzy his head would become whenever you were around, making it hard to focus at all.

“I thought I told you to stop calling me that?”

You gave him a lazy grin, “you did, I just didn’t give a shit.”

“Charming as ever, (Y/L/N).” Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“You know it, Holmes,” you smirked, “Oh, almost forgot, John said he’ll be out today. Guess it’s just you and me…”

You gave him a wink and clicked your tongue. You stepped back, and went about your morning making breakfast, but not before turning the radio on.

With his silence now disturbed, Sherlock took a deep breathe in, the lingering familiar scent of your strawberry shampoo filled his lungs, strangely relaxing him and giving him almost a high similar to nicotine. He misses his cigars, but he had promised you to lay off. But this was good too, he had always felt at ease with the particular smell. Hmm.

He turned around and watched as you made your way gracefully around the kitchen. The scene could’ve been described as a dance. You were light on your feet, making many turns and spins, the quick smooth movements made, all whilst humming along to a song Sherlock had never heard of.


It made Sherlock’s heart swell.


And also throb with pain.

It was pain he had not experienced before. Most of his emotions were suppressed deep inside him, for so long he even know why they were popping back up again. Sherlock had hesitated, but headed over to the kitchen and stood behind you. Just far away enough not to be noticed. Maybe he could just…?

No!

His mind was yelling at him, all his rules, all the terrible things sentiment would do, his promises of never surrendering to love. 

Love. It was a horrendous little thing, he felt sorry those who suffer it. All the crying and the moaning and the heartbreak, couldn’t people see that it was all just unnecessary, unneeded emotion baggage that they brought upon themselves? And for no absolute reason?! The facts were there and he had been over this a million times, what had changed?

Had Sherlock Holmes really fallen for (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?

The thought was laughable.

Him? Of all people, in love? It left a bad taste in his mouth. The word felt so foreign to him, it felt like a disease. Infecting everything in its path, leaving it’s victims helpless. He pitied them if anything…or at least if he could feel pity. 

But with you, he it seemed that you were the exception. He could see himself with you, doing ordinary couple things, like going on dates, or even cuddling on the couch together. It was a nice thought. 

He kept thinking, perhaps this was just his head fucking up, and if he resists for long enough, maybe he’ll return back to his normal state. The cold, stone-hearted, sociopath of detective.

Sherlock had ended up just staring at the back of your head, blinking and standing there like an idiot. He sighed internally. Maybe, just maybe, one day he’ll tell you. 

He turned and walked back to his evidence wall.



Now what was this case about again…?

So I was Catholic as a kid, and I would always hear people saying that they see God in others. Okay, beautiful sentiment.

But I didn’t really understand what it meant until today, when I was walking down the hall at school and saw a tall blonde girl wearing hiking boots and a green kaki jacket talking to a freshman. I didn’t mean to eves drop, but I heard the tall girl say “you text that boy and tell him you do not want to date him. You don’t owe him shit if this is how he treats you!” The freshman looked like she had been crying, and it didn’t take much to put two and two together.

And in that tall girl, I saw Artemis, protector of maidens. I don’t mean in the sense that I think this girl is actually Artemis, but I saw her grace shining through her to help this poor kid. I felt Artemis present in that moment, and it was beautiful. I want to follow her example and live in the spirit of the theoi, to do their work on earth and serve them as this girl did Artemis, whether she knew it or not.

I haven’t really contacted Artemis at all, but tonight, I am going to give her an offering and say thanks.

Lex ranted about how the fight he set up between Bruce and Clark was supposed to represent God vs. Man and the movie expresses the same sentiment over and over and over again

And people are revering Superman as the “god” figure

And legit

The whole goddamn time

There is an actual god(dess) just walking around in the background and she didn’t even know either of the dudes the movie was so obsessed with she was just doin whatever what a legend