hearts floating

You should be at peace’

I dunno about you but if I got my mums still beating dissected heart from an ethereal floating whale child I would be a little conflicted about it :/

(you can tell I’ve never uploaded gifs before I don’t know how to unshite the quality)

6

he’s so beautiful (´▽`ʃƪ)♡

You know, a lot of people might wonder

“How do you play as Zenyatta?” Well, the answer is obvious.
Scream.
Unleash all the pent up rage that lurks within your heart as you aggressively float towards the enemy team and attempt to 1v6 them.
Throw your discord orb on a different enemy every three seconds.
Throw your orbs around with reckless abandon.
Violently kick the enemy in the face while saying hello.
Ignore your team’s cries for healing.
Pretend that you are invincible.
Become one with Tankyatta.

Favourite Undertale quotes

(aka the reasons you should play Undertale if you haven’t yet)

  • *ANIME’S REAL, RIGHT?!?!
  • *You came all the way back here to look at Toriel’s socks. *You have great priorities in life. 
  • *Wosh u SOUL
  • *YOU LIKE CARESSING MY BICEPS WITH A FLOATING HEART. BUT WHO DOESN’T!?
  • *Sans is selling tickets made of toilet paper.
  • *It looks like a snow ball… *Actually, it’s a snow decahedron.
  • *SCIENTIST DISCOVERS HEALTH BENEFITS OF USING COMPUTER (JUST KIDDING LOL)
  • *TINY VOLCANO MONSTER TRIES ITS BEST, RECEIVES TINY APPLAUSE
  • *WOSHUA CLEANS UP LOCAL CRIME, LITERALLY FINDS CRIMINALS AND DOUSES THEM IN SOAP, CRIME DOESN’T GO DOWN BUT IT SMELLS AMAZING
  • *Partaking in worthless garbage fills you with determination.
  • *DO YOU TREAT YOUR MOTHER THIS WAY…WHEN SHE MAKES YOU A PUZZLE?!?!?
  • *I’ll pay you 1000G if you get Mettaton to autograph my butt!
  • *DOGS ARE JUST FIRM CATS!!!!
  • *Why do people find him so attractive?? *He’s literally just a freaking rectangle.
  • *Huh? *Everyone else is DEAD? *Does that mean I don’t have to work today?
  • *STOP PLAGUING MY LIFE WITH INCIDENTAL MUSIC!!!
  • *Thank you so much, dearie! *It’s all because of you *(r money).
  • *You’re making the switches uncomfortable with all this attention.
  • *(WHY IS THIS PERSON TRYING TO SELL ME SOMETHING THIS IS A HAMBURGER RESTAURANT I’M JUST TRYING TO SURVIVE)
  • *In this hellish world, you can only take 3 pieces of candy…
  • *I’m literally going to make out with a fish.
  • *OF COURSE I KNOW WHO I KNOW!! I WANTED TO KNOW  IF YOU KNOW…I KNOW WHO I KNOW AS MUCH AS I KNOW I KNOW WHO I KNOW!…YOU KNOW?
  • *Mad Dummy is doing an armless ska dance.
  • *Now you’ll see my true power: Relying on people that aren’t garbage!
  • *I DON’T NEED FRIENDS!!! *I’VE GOT KNIVES!!! 
  • *i’ve almost got a mix cd finished for my scary neighbor… *it’s 74 minutes of people screaming their signature wrestling moves *but they’re all autotuned *i hope she likes it
  • *What do I look like, the ice-cream woman? *Do human ice-cream women TERRORIZE HUMANITY with ENERGY SPEARS? *Are their ice-cream songs a PRELUDE TO DESTRUCTION?
  • *OH MY GOD!!! *STOP PETTING THE ENEMY!!!
  • *I should have worn a few million more pairs of pants today.
  • *Mew Mew Kissy Cutie 2 Is Neither Kissy Nor Cutie. *Its Trash. 0 stars
  • *SOMETIMES, I’M A GENIUS. ALL THE TIME.
  • *Sparkle up your day™.
  • *EVEN IF YOU MANAGE TO BEAT THE HEAT… *YOU’LL NEVER BE ABLE TO WITHSTAND MY HOT METAL BODY!
  • *THIS DOG… *STILL EXISTS! *THIS STORY… *JUST KEEPS GETTING BETTER AND BETTER!
  • *My hair… yes, I use metal hairgel. 
  • They say I have the voice of a Siren… awooga!
  • *… you really like hot animals, don’t you? *hey, i’m not judging.
  • *yeah, you’ve gotta save your money for college and spiders.
  • *STILL FIDDLING WITH THAT MICROWAVE, EH, DARLING? *CAN’T BLAME YOU FOR BEING TOTALLY ENAMORED WITH AN ELECTRONIC BOX.
  • *I will make intent eye contact with you so you sweat while you talk.
  • *First off, I’m a baby KNIGHT! *Captain of the babies!!!
  • *I’M UNDYNE AND I’M PILING ON THE SMOOCHES!!!
  • *WHAT!! I DIDN’T CRY!!! I DON’T CRY!! *I JUST…CAUGHT SOMETHING IN MY EYE. *TEARS!!!
  • *This is Sans *Frisk, did you know that I love to “get owned?” *I also think Toriel is very good and fhfjkehfeaufsisf
  • *THERE ARE WAY BETTER ANIMALS TO MARRY. *LIKE SKELETONS!!!
  • *HMMM..THE SOLUTION TO THIS ONE…? *I ACTUALLY JUST STEPPED OVER THE SPIKES. *SO THE SOLUTION IS TO BE VERY TALL AND HANDSOME.
  • *SOMEDAY I’LL IMPRESS HER WITH MY HUGE BICEPS… *THAT’S A GOOD WAY TO MAKE FRIENDS!!!
  • *When I feel like relaxing, I always take a break there. *That means NEVER!! *I HATE RELAXING!! *I LOVE being ANGRY and STRESSED OUT!!!
  • *You can’t do the jimpity jumpity joodle!? *The limpity loppity leap!?
  • *I WISH I HAD EIGHT LEGS… *SO I COULD WEAR FOUR PAIRS OF HOTPANTS.
  • *Uh, if not for that grooty, I’d have kicked your booty.
  • *(HORRIBLE BIRD IMITATIONS)
  • *GARBAGE, HUH? BOY, DO I KNOW GARBAGE!! *AFTER ALL, I’M HOUSEMATES WITH A LAZY BAG OF TRASH! *HIS NAME’S TRASHY HE LIVES IN THE GARBAGE CAN. 
  • *You make a snowball and throw it for the dog to fetch. *It splats on the ground. *Greater Dog picks up all the snow in the area and brings it to you.
  • *WOWIE!!! UNDYNE!!! *SOMEDAY I WANTTO BE AS STRONG AND SWEATY AS YOU.
  • *PLEASE STOP COMMITTING GHOST CRIMES.
  • *It looks like some sort of powerful bracelet… *Wait. *It’s just a croissant…
  • *EMITTING SLIME…THAT’S JUST WHAT BROTHERS DO.
  • *It appears to be a self- sustaining tornado made of trash.
  • *N… NO!!! NOT THE FLATTERY SUPLEX!!!
  • *I can’t go to hell. *I’m all out of vacation days.
  • *A LAB??? MY BROTHER WOULD LOVE THAT! *HE LOVES SCIENCE FICTION!! *ESPECIALLY WHEN IT’S REAL.
  • *And I’m forecasting an incoming front of SHUT UP!!!
  • *I CAN’T VISUALIZE THIS PUZZLE AT ALL. *CAN YOU DRAW A PICTURE??? *THEN HOLD IT UP TO THE RECEIVER??
  • *I’m thinking of getting a spiked collar to show off my personality. *It makes a statement like… *“Attach a leash to me and take me for a walk please.”
  • *(AUDIBLE WINK)… *WAIT, WHOSE NUMBER IS THIS???
  • *It’s kinda cute… *…I mean, uh… *I’m tough!!! *I love to eat rocks!!
  • *A A A A A. *I’M SCREAMING VERY SLOWLY.
  • *Well, maybe our cooking abilities aren’t exactly perfect. *Nah!!! *They totally are!! *Eat up, punk!! *(You hear spaghetti thwap against the receiver.)
  • *IS (THE SOUND A BABY MAKES) AN EMOTION?
  • *Perhaps mankind was not meant to pet this much.
youtube

FUCKING GODDAMN FINALLY I FINISHED THIS GODDAMN EPISODE IT’S TAKEN ME SO LONG I’M SO READY TO FLOP ON THE FLOOR AND SLEEP FOR TEN YEARS BLESS THE GODDAMN WORLD

….ahem

SO YEAH. I DUBBED @itsnojida‘s @ask-the-floating-heart

THIS IS THE FIRST EPISODE.

THANKS TO @taidatenshi, @ashenemberrs, and @ask-no-heal for helping me with some of the dubbing. YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME.

this was a blast to do, but i’m dead now

so enjoy this while i go play some gmod with my hamie and then pass out in a ditch or whatevs

Circle me and the needle moves gracefully
Back and forth, if my heart was a compass you’d be North
Risk it all cause I’ll catch you if you fall
Wherever you go, if my heart was a house you’d be home

If My Heart Was a House - Owl City

“My turning point is when I met you and fell in love…the fact that you are my first and last girl…my love for you is always inside my heart.” 

I have absolutely no words for Yoosung’s Valentine’s DLC. I could ramble on and on how his character development was spot on, but that would make me do an essay on him. If it could be described in a single word, it would be perfect. He made me fall for him deeper, no joke. He is literally the best husband ever. Yoosung Kim is husband goals, no one can top that. 

Also, more Owl City!

Paper Hearts

A stupidly fluffy SnowBaz fic for the Carry On Valentine’s Celebration


Simon

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

Meet me in Room 172.

           I refold the note, noticing how the paper has already settled into well-known creases since this morning.  It’s not the first anonymous note I’ve gotten over the past week, but it’s the first time the writer has made a move beyond waxing poetic.

           The Watford halls are sickening today, even to me.  I understand the appeal of decorating for Christmas, but Valentine’s Day?  It just seems a little patronizing to adorn the walls in that many paper hearts, whether the hearts can magically float around people’s heads or not.  And it’s not that I’m a cynic, but Valentine’s Day this year was set to be a difficult one for me, since I no longer have Agatha to dote upon.

           But as I slip the little creased note back into my pocket and make for Room 172, the paper hearts seem less mocking and my own beating heart feels just a bit lighter.

           When I reach the door I falter, doubts rushing to my head.  What if there’s no one there?  And what if there is?  Then what?

           But I turn the knob and shove open the door.

           And immediately I see who’s waiting and I hate the thrill that bolts through me, and I wish that I had turned back.

           Baz’s face goes red when he sees me and I wonder briefly if I’ve seen him this angry before, so enraged that he turns colour.

           “What,” he seethes, “are you doing here?”

           “What am I doing here?” I spit back, my heart sinking and racing at once.  “What are you doing here?”

           “None of your business,” he growls, sitting on one of the desks and pointedly looking anywhere but at me.

           Everything in me is boiling.  I’m angry and I’m disappointed at once, but I puff up my pride and stalk over to another desk and sit down to wait.  Maybe the fates will be on my side for once and the mystery writer will reveal themselves yet.

           Although, would that be the fates with me or against me?  Because everything right now is looking like Baz wrote the note, and sitting here in the empty classroom full of paper hearts with him just a few desks away, it’s getting harder to ignore the buzzing under my skin and harder to ignore the fact that he is the common denominator.

           The clock ticks away like a drumbeat and I stare at the door, hoping, praying for something to happen.

           “Why are you here?”

           I throw a glance over at Baz, who has turned his head so that he can see me without looking at me.  “If you must know,” I reply sharply, “I’m waiting for someone.”

           “Really?”

           “You think I’m lying?”

           “I think you’re pathetic.”

           I have to squeeze my eyes shut and count to ten like Penny told me before I can breathe evenly again.  “What’s your excuse, Basil?” I grit through my teeth. “Why do you have to be here?  Has no one invited you across the threshold?” It’s a lame dig, but I know it will be effective, whether he shows it or not.  If there’s anything I’ve learned from being his enemy it’s that vampire jokes are a no-no.

           “I told you, it’s none of your business.”

           “Can’t you take your business elsewhere, then?”

           “No.”

           “Arse.”

           “Prat.”

           When I turn to throw another insult at him, the sun through the window catches the side of his face and turns his eyes to silver… and the insult dies in my throat.

           Beautiful.

           I try to stomp on the thought.  No.

           But it’s too late.  

           It’s there.  It’s taken root.

           And the longer I look at him the more it flowers.

           Another thought bubbles up to the surface almost tentatively.  Are you sure it wasn’t him?

           As much as I know I should try to extinguish that notion along with the previous, I let it linger.  If I think back on it, I don’t think I ever have seen him angry enough to turn red.

           So maybe he’s not angry.  

           Maybe it’s something else.

           When he meets my eye, I’m still staring at him, and his gaze darts away again, but his cheeks.

           They go pink, and there’s no anger in his eyes.  Only uncertainty.

           His silver eyes.

           And all at once, I decide to change everything.

Baz

“Alright, Baz,” comes Simon’s soft voice, “you can drop the act.”

           I turn to look at him again, and it’s like looking at the sun because I can feel his image scorching onto my retinas.  Meeting Simon Snow’s gaze is something that can only be done in doses, for me at least, I don’t know why.

           Well, I know why, but I can’t logically explain it.

           “Act?” I repeat dumbly.

           He slides off the desk and takes a slow step in my direction, and even that is enough to set my heart hammering.  “Yes,” he says, “act.”

           “I don’t know what -”

           “I think you do,” he interrupts me, “I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.” He pauses for a breath, like he’s second-guessing himself, but then he meets my eyes again.  “I think you wrote the notes.”

           My brain screeches to a halt and nothing makes sense.  “Notes,” I reply, and I hate myself because the boy I’m head-over-heels for is actually not at my throat and I sound like a parrot.

           He seems to get a burst of confidence.  “It’s okay, Baz,” he goes on, still slowly advancing, “I don’t mind, but you could have just said something.”

           I have nowhere to go.  I want to leap up from my spot and run, but I can’t.  Even in all this, my pride wins.  I’m on a desk in the middle of an empty classroom, and I’m cornered.  “Said something,” I stammer, “about what?”

           He shrugs, right in front of me now.  “Anything from any of the notes, which were unbelievably mushy, by the way. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

           “Hang on,” I stop him, unable to keep from shrinking back.  “You’ve been getting notes?”

           “All week,” he grins, “though I didn’t realize it was you until I got here.  I have to say, that last one was weak poetry. I mean, ‘roses are red, violets are blue’?”

           Something in my brain clicks and I swear I hear a ding.  “‘Meet me in Room 172’,” I finish with a sinking feeling.

           His face lights up like all the stars in the sky are in his eyes.  “I knew it was you,” he murmurs, and – Crowley – his gaze flickers to my mouth, no more than a foot away.

           And I want it.  I want to keep quiet and let him close the distance.  Hell, I want to do it myself.

           But I reach into my pocket and pull out the scrap of paper from inside.  “Then I hate to tell you this, Snow,” I say quietly, my heart breaking, “but I didn’t do it.”

           He looks away from my eyes for the first time and his brow scrunches up when he sees the note in my hand.  He takes it from me and unfolds it, his eyes scanning over the words again and again, the same little three-line poem.  I watch as he checks his pockets, finding an identical note in his jeans, and the penny drops.

           “It wasn’t you,” he says, almost to himself, and his face falls.

           “I’ve been getting anonymous notes all week, too,” I confess.  “It’s a trick on both of us.”

           His hands are shaking.  “Why would anyone do this?” he asks quietly, his face reddening, and I can’t tell whether it’s with embarrassment or anger or sadness, or all of the above.

           “I don’t know,” I stand at last and saunter over to lean against the wall, grateful for some air that isn’t charged with proximity.  “People are dicks, I guess.”

           “And you swear that you had nothing to do with it?”  He won’t look at me at all now.

           “I swear.”

           He squeezes his eyes shut and I half expect tears to appear on his cheeks, but he just nods once and turns to march towards the door.

           An image flashes through my brain, of his eyes boring into mine, of how they flickered down to my flustered mouth.

           And suddenly I decide that I’ve had enough of this.

           “Simon.”

           He stops dead in his tracks.  “What?” he says without looking at me.

           “I’m sorry.”

           “What for?  You said you didn’t do anything.”  His voice sounds sore, like he is fighting tears after all.

           “I’m sorry that you thought it was me,” I tell him, “because…” I trail off, unsure how to finish.

           “Because what?”

           I wish he would look at me.  “I hate to ask, but did you mean any of that?”

           “About not minding if it was you?”  He sighs like he’s given up.  “Yes. I meant all of it.”

           He meant all of it.  From the words to the glance at my lips.  All of it.

           He shoots me a red-faced glare at my silence.  “Happy?”

           I stare back, and I can feel a big stupid grin bubbling up.  “Yes, actually.”

           That catches him off-guard.  “Why?”

           “Because I wouldn’t mind if it was you, either,” I blurt out before I can lose my nerve.

           His eyebrows finally un-furrow and he meets my eyes properly.  I know that I’m turning pink again, but as he starts to step towards me, I hold his gaze.

           When he’s right in front of me again, close enough that I have to look down to see him, he whispers “You mean…”

           One of the paper hearts littering the room suddenly jumps up off a desk, and I don’t know if they’ve been charmed to target fools in love or not, but it starts to dance around my head.

           Simon chuckles at the heart.  “Is that a yes?”

           I allow myself a tempered version of the big stupid grin.  “You could say that.”

           The heart swoops in front of my eyes, and I lazily wave it away.

           Simon stands on tiptoe and plucks the heart from the air by my eyes, and we’re no further than a breath apart.

           And then he leans in the rest of the way.

Agatha

Penny squeezes my hand hard when they finally fall together, and I squeeze back.  Stealthily she snaps a silent photo on her phone, and I make a mental note to get her to send it to me later.  The fruits of our labours.

           We step back from the open door of Room 172 as quietly as we can, but I doubt we need to worry.  Simon and Baz are both far too occupied to notice us.

           Penny keeps hold of my hand as we make a break for it, waiting until we’re around several corners before speaking.

           “Damn,” she grins at me, “we are good.”

           All I can do is grin back, still holding her hand as we stroll down the hallway, kicking up clouds of red paper hearts.

Does love always go?
Someone asked me that today and it took me a moment to think about it… but my answer is no, love doesn’t always go.
Sometimes it does, I won’t deny that. Some people are fickle and love with a light heart that floats on to something else almost as soon as the wind changes. But not everyone loves that way…
There are those who love deeply, with everything that they are; and for them, love is timeless. It never ages, it never gets bored, it never ‘finds somebody better’, it never fades away and it certainly never gives up just because things got tough.
But it also hurts sometimes… It hurts in ways you can’t possibly imagine and when it does I can almost understand why those who are capable of it choose to let go… Sometimes I almost envy them…
But I’ve never been one of those people. I so rarely let anybody in, but if you’re one of the few people to find your way into my heart – then you’re there to stay until my final breath.
And I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing…?
I don’t know if it’s beautiful or sad to think that one day, many years from now, my last thoughts will most likely be of someone who no longer thinks of me at all…