i just have so many feelings about these two

are you drunk, mrs. lahey?

Originally posted by lovershub

isaac’s not likely to deny his wife what she wants. (humor/smut)

Keep reading

ad a s t r a per a s p e r a // from hardships to the stars

No, but what about Grantaire carrying a pile of post-it notes with him all the time?

Everything starts in university where he uses the small notes to remind himself of important stuff (hand F*cking Paper of Hell in on thursday, ABC meeting @ 5, don’t forget to call éponine, What is DADA? Nothing), and when he’s bored he absently adds some quick doodles. His notebook fills with them and the door of his room and his pockets and then every flat surface he comes across because slowly he’s running out of places where to put all the little paper squares.

Les Amis are probably annoyed at first (“Oh, for Heaven’s sake, R, my laptop doesn’t need a reminder that you’ve got a dentist appointment next week.” “Why is there a drawing of a Dalek stealing the Mona Lisa on my bag? R, what exactly have you done at the Louvre today?”) but when finals come around and they find sarcastic, but strangely encouraging post-its all over their things (sure thing that the world needs good doctors to drag humanity from its eternal misère and yes there are a lot of great candidates for the job but only few are able to sneeze their own name at the same time maybe you’ll stand a chance) they stop to call him out on it.

Well, everyone except Enjolras who thinks them a violation of probably every single paragraph of the Geneva Convention because he won’t admit they’re actually kinda cute.

So, the thing is, Grantaire never really gives up on that habit even after graduating. His flat is covered in post-its: quick sketches, shopping lists, song-lyrics, the name of that particular brand of actual good pencils, a lot of cynical quotes: I like my coffee how I like myself: dark, bitter and too hot for you. The thing is, Les Amis never stop finding them at the most unusual places: a tiny superhero-version of Joly on his doorbell the day after a particularly bad panic attack, weird foreign linguistic expressions smuggled into Combeferre’s bookshelf (fare la gatta morta (Italian) = do the dead cat = play dumb), a list of Poké Stops for Gavroche, poetry for Jehan (and from Jehan for everyone else).

The thing is, Grantaire doesn’t stop being the Bitter Ball of Biting Remarks in the corner of the room, but the post-its are a glance at his soft, human side, a reminder to the others that he cares even if he shows it in a weird way.

The thing is, that with every little note, there also comes a piece of Grantaire himself.

(He’s too drunk one night, too alone, too far gone; and the next day he wakes up with paper squares glued to his face and ink stains on his hands, angry sketches, nightmares drawn with sharp lines, the word Why scribbled on hundreds of post-its in his own, messy handwriting, and he darkly remembers a phone call and a pleading voice—a mother, a sister, a friend? Wild thoughts of his father cross his mind, shouts, voices that are too close and too loud—“You are worth nothing … You don’t believe in anything …” and suddenly there’s a picture of Enjolras, eyes afire with righteous fury and it hurts to look, to think, to be. Why, why, why, why, he curses, and stumbles into the bathroom to throw up and when Éponine finds him passed out on the cold floor tiles, she doesn’t say a word about the mess in his living room, instead she sticks a note to his forehead that reads it’s okay not to be okay and she doesn’t smile but she’s there and that helps immensely. Later, when he’s sobered up again, she gets a thank-you post-it from his fridge door: Princess? No, Bitch Queen.)

And then, of course, there’s Enjolras. Why-the-hell-are-you-doing-this-Enjolras. What-is-even-the-point-in-these-stupid-notes-Enjolras. Are-you-trying-to-kill-the-rainforest-with-your-excessive-waste-of-paper-Enjolras. NO-MORE-POST-IT-NOTES-DURING-MEETINGS-I-SAY-IT-ONE-LAST-TIME-Enjolras.

Enjolras, who, suddenly, starts finding little messages everywhere.

Stop banging your head against walls that are too big for you on his door after a protest that ends with quality time in a jail cell for one night.

It’s really a shame you weren’t born 200 years earlier, you’d cut a good figure amidst the shouting of liberté, egalité, fraternité and waving a banner of freedom on top of the barricade in his notebook, complete with a surprisingly accurate caricature of tiny Enjolras standing up for the right to be free.

Let’s go save a puppy today on a flyer of an animal shelter in his mail.

Where—where slept thine ire / When like a blank idiot I put on thy wreath / Thy laurel, thy glory / The light of thy story / Or was I a worm—too low crawling for death? (John Keats, Hymn to Apollo) in his coat pocket.

And then one day, on a cold, cold night in January: You can’t right every wrong on a lamp post in front of the Musain, a circle of thin light, the sky a cerulean blanket over the city.

A few metres down the street, on another lamp post, the next one: Not every wrong wants to be righted.

Not far away, a third: Some things are flawed and imperfect and that is all right.

Curiosity woken, Enjolras huddles deeper into his scarf and stuffs his gloved hands in his pockets, following a line of familiar post-it-notes into the night, like breadcrumbs out of a fairy tale. They are everywhere; on lamp posts, street signs, brick walls, trees—leading him, what he soon realises, back to his own house, back home.

I tell you a secret, Apollo: I am one of these imperfect things.

You once said I wouldn’t believe in anything, but I do. I do believe in something.

Turn left on that corner.

Just kidding, turn RIGHT, we’re going the other way. Look, down there is the coffee shop you like.

Courfeyrac once told me about your overly specialised coffee order and I just have to ask you a question: what the actual hell is wrong with you? Are you trying to traumatise these poor bastards behind the counter? Black coffee, strong enough to destroy entire planets, is the only true way of drinking coffee. No soy-milk-hazel-nut-caramel-shit and whatever ritual sacrifice they need to make in order to please you.

You’re scowling right now. Is it weird to confess that I think your scowl is kinda hot? You know, in the Fight-me-I’m-a-badass-pirate kind of way.

I tell you another secret, Apollo: sometimes it hurts to look at you.

You’re the blinding sun in a chaotic solar system, you and all your righteousness fury, your plans, your ideals, your dreams. You and your courage, your anger, your determination. Your craving for change. Your belief. You hurled into existence in a white-hot explosion and you won’t stop burning, burning, burning.

I’m the aimlessly floating asteroid in the dark, the one who stumbles and collides and gets hurt and laughs away his fears. I am the realist. I was born as a side effect, the remains of a crushed world. I have seen destruction too often to simply believe rebuilding the things that were is enough. So much damage runs deeper.

Apollo.

We’re almost there.

Enjolras looks up, the last note gently held between gloved fingers. Sure enough, there’s his street. The bakery, the book store, the dark café. Two more lamp posts, two more post-its. A dark figure leaning against the entrance of his building, waiting, expectant. He knows the unruly curls, the stubborn eyes, the knitted beanie.

He steps closer.

A third secret for you, Apollo.

His breath draws silver-white clouds into the cold night-air.

Grantaire’s eyes don’t leave him, vibrant in the dark.

Another step. Closer, closer to home.

The thing I believe in is—

It’s the last post-it and he takes it with care.

They stand there, filled with silence, and look at each other. Grantaire arches a single eyebrow and slowly, very slowly, uncurls his crossed arms. Enjolras closes his eyes and feels a smile warming up his cheeks, light-headed, affectionate, wonderful.

He feels like falling, like floating, like flying—like music, like poetry, like drums echoing the sound of his fluttering heartbeat.

A post-it note on Grantaire’s chest, right over his heart.

A single word, a confession, a promise.

you.

8

Maybe a relationship is just two idiots who don’t know a damn thing except the fact that they’re willing to figure it out together.

youtube

okay okay okay. i’m not even sure what to say about this animatic by P Holstwiik on youtube because it is so fantastic you just have to see it. please witness the beauty. so much work and time and effort went into this, i can’t believe how fortunate i am to see this with my own two eyes. the colors! the music! the emotions! the feels! 

this is what we’re talking about when we say we’re accepting multimedia submissions for issue two! there is a huge creative space to explore and so many mediums to try — and we want to encourage more beautiful awesome work like this!

if you have not seen this yet, please see this now and leave comments to the creator! thank you OP, and to everyone else, please enjoy and be inspired!

the rogue one squad built a rebellion on hope, and when they couldn’t carry that hope anymore because their chances were spent, luke, leia, and han brought it to the finish line. luke didn’t “get all the glory;” he had that greatness thrust upon him in the cruelest way possible: he lost his two parental figures, and he lost obi-wan (another paternal figure) in a short span of time. but he never gave up. he easily could have, but he knew that he’d fall down a hole he’d never be able to crawl out of. he never hardened; he was never resentful of his sensitivity, even though many predicted it would be his “undoing.” he turned it into a strength instead, and i think that’s a really beautiful way to write a character. the rogue one squad would be proud of him.

as the elevator door closes, for a moment the chaos surrounding them seems to stop. 

in the flickering light, jyn and cassian search each other’s eyes for comfort.

jyn decides to move closer, her arms now draped around cassian’s neck. he is badly injured. face to face and heart to heart, they both silently contemplate the fate that awaits them. 

cassian draws jyn still closer, they are now just inches apart. flashes of a future together in his mind, alongside the realization that there’s no time for that anymore. jyn gazes back knowingly. they continue to support each other, connected, their hearts beating in sync. both wanting to say so much, but understanding that all they have is this present moment together right now.

maybe that is enough.

i’m not used to people sticking around when things go bad // welcome home

GOD I’M SO EMOTIONAL ABOUT TONIGHT!!

  • Watching Robert’s eyes literally light up at the thought of bribing someone while milking Rebecca for more money!! THAT’S MY TRASHY BABY!!!
  • OMG Aaron’s excuse for being dressed like a burglar “IT’S COLD!” LMAO!!
  • And Chas didn’t even try to interrogate Aaron like she normally would have bc SHE KNOWS HE’S HAPPY AND IN A GOOD PLACE SO SHE COULDN’T EVEN IMAGINE HIM DOING SOMETHING BAD!! THEY’VE COME SO FAR!! I’M CRYING!! 
  • AARON HAS LITERALLY GOT TO BE THE FITTEST BURGLAR EVER!! ONLY HE CAN ROCK ALL BLACK LIKE THAT!!!
  • Robert being his smug, arrogant self with Rebecca!! GOD I LOVE HIM!!
  • ROBERT TRYING TO GET AS MUCH MONEY OUT OF REBECCA AS POSSIBLE TO GIVE TO AARON SO THEY CAN BUY THE MILL!! ROBERT LITERALLY WANTING HER PAY FOR HIS HOME WITH AARON!! I’M SCREAMING!!!
  • AARON INITIATING A HUG WITH HIS MUM!! THE GUY WHO USUALLY SHIES AWAY FROM SUCH THINGS!! THAT WAS THE CUTEST THING EVER!!
  • CHAS SAYING SHE IS PROUD OF AARON!! 
  • AND AARON SAYING “I LOVE YOU” TO CHAS!!! THAT WAS SO EMOTIONAL!! NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS THEY LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH!!
  • Aaron was SO good at bullshitting Rebecca about the burglary!! ROBERT MUST BE SO PROUD!!
  • “BECAUSE I’LL LOSE MY SISTER” - Aaron’s not even worried about himself he’s more concerned about Liv!!! He’s so selfless!!
  • Aaron actually being so strong and opening up to Rebecca about his abuse!! GOD HE IS SO BRAVE AND I JUST WANTED TO HUG HIM!!!
  • Aaron not wanting Rebecca pressuring him into telling Robert about him breaking into Home Farm!! He doesn’t want to disappoint the person he loves the most!! Ugh my heart!!!
  • REBECCA TELLING AARON HOW ROBERT HAS TOLD HER NO ONE ELSE COMES CLOSE TO AARON!!! IT WAS LIKE IT FINALLY HIT AARON THAT ROBERT REALLY ONLY WANTS HIM!!! I’M SO EMOTIONAL!!!
  • AARON ACTUALLY BUYING THE MILL SO HIM, ROBERT AND LIV CAN FINALLY BE A PROPER LITTLE FAMILY!!!
  • AARON LOOKED SO HAPPY WHEN HE WAS TELLING THEM HE HAD BOUGHT THEM A HOME!! THIS WAS SO PERFECT!!
  • LIV ALMOST HUGGING ROBERT BC SHE WAS SO EXCITED WAS SO CUTE!! DEEP DOWN SHE DOES LOVE HIM SHE REALLY DOES!!
  • Robert instantly knew Aaron was lying and hadn’t just changed his mind about buying the Mill!! HE KNOWS AARON BETTER THAN ANYONE!!!
  • AARON NOT WANTING TO ADMIT HE’D BROKEN INTO HOME FARM!! HE FELT SO BAD ABOUT IT!!!
  • AND ROBERT’S FACE WHEN AARON TOLD HIM!! IT WAS SO CLEAR HE WAS ANGRY AT AARON FOR BEING SO STUPID AND FOR RISKING HIS FREEDOM!! ROBERT DOESN’T WANT TO LOSE AARON!!
  • ROBERT ACTUALLY ADMITTING THAT HE LOVES AARON’S BAD BOY WAYS!! HE’S SO IN LOVE WITH HIS SCRUFFY THUG IT’S INSANE!!
  • THEY WERE ALL SO FREAKING HAPPY CELEBRATING BUYING THE MILL!!! SUCH A PERFECT LITTLE FAMILY!! I’M CRYING!! 
  • AND AARON WAS EVEN ENCOURAGING ROBERT TO GO TALK BUSINESS WITH REBECCA BC NOW HE FINALLY REALISES THAT WHEN ROBERT SAYS NO ONE ELSE COMES CLOSE HE TRULY MEANS IT!!!
  • THERE IS LITERALLY NOTHING THESE TWO CANNOT OVERCOME BC THEY’RE SO IN LOVE!!! SOMEONE PINCH ME IT’S JUST SO BEAUTIFUL!!!

anonymous asked:

Forget about the commander can't have a family thing. How would you headcanon Clarke and Lexa having a child?

DHFJKGHJSDFKGSHJS

Ok. So, first thing first, they would totally adopt one. Yeah, they could have Abby perform some sort of IVF, but I just don’t see it for them. It’s way more likely that they would take a child in instead, an orphan. A little girl? Let’s go with a little girl for this. 

It would come after MANY discussions about this particular matter, because these two have so many issues. Lexa would be terrified because no Commander before her had a family, it was simply something unthinkable, so she is worried that being a mother simply won’t work with her being also the Commander. Also, we know that Lexa has problems with feelings: she was raised to believe that love is a weakness, and even if she never truly believed that and learned that love is strength, that’s still years of conditioning, and i feel one of her fears would be that she’d be too cold with her child. Clarke on the other hand would be scared to be too “messed up” to be a mother. So as I said, it would take a while for them to decide. But once on board… damn these two would be the most loving parents.

So…. random headcanons?

  • Lexa is the playful one. She has to be so strict and rigid and serious all the time because of her duties. There’s always something to worry about, something to stress over, something that fills her mind with concern at best, with anger and sorrow at worst. She doesn’t want that to taint the time she spends with her family, and these are the only moments when she’s truly free, so she doesn’t want to waste them. I’m talking pretending to be Pauna and chasing after her little girl. Fake battles with wooden swords that quickly become tickle fights. Blowing raspberries on her daughter’s neck and stomach and feet just to hear her cackle.
  • Clarke LOVES drawing Lexa and their daughter together. It doesn’t matter what they’re doing, she just wants to capture every single one of these moments.
  • Lexa reads stories to the little girl before going to sleep. Often she falls asleep there, wrapped around her child. When this happens and Clarke finds them, rarely she wakes Lexa up. It’s much more likely instead that she just grabs a fur and settles on an armchair or couch next to them and sleeps there, to stay close to her family.
  • Clarke often brings her daughter on top of the tower and together they look at the sky and stars and she tells stories about when she lived in space.
  • More often than not they let the little girl sleep with them. Clarke tries to be strict but she can only resist one pair of hearteyes, not two. And who is she kidding anyway, she loves sleeping with her girls.
  • They both catch themselves staring at their daughter, sleeping, playing, running around, it doesn’t matter. They look at her and wonder how is it possible that after everything they went through, after everything they did, they are blessed with this kind of happiness.

I have like 4475468 more but i’m stopping here for now

Ten Things You Should Never Say to a Lesbian

All lesbians have penis envy; they just want to be men.

No, we don’t. We are women who like to be with women. Who said anything about men? So guys have dicks, so what? It’s not like I can’t walk six blocks and buy a dick of my own. Plus, I don’t have to worry about being too small, coming too early, or getting it up. If anything, men want to be lesbians.

I am totally cool with lesbians, I just think two guys fucking is gross.

Do you really think that makes us feel good to hear that? While many lesbians might also be less than excited about fucking men, we are still a part of the gay community. We don’t care about your approval, and you are not any less homophobic just because you get hot about the idea of two chicks going at it. You know what I think is gross? Your impudence and stupidity.

You’re too pretty and feminine to be a lesbian.

If you think all lesbians are big ol’ dykes with crew cuts, flannel shirts, and combat boots, then you have obviously had your eyes closed for pretty much your whole life. If you think all lesbians are ugly women who just can’t get a man, then you are an idiot. Lesbians come in all types, shapes, hairstyles, clothing, sizes, hot and not, fat and skinny, girly and not so girly. Don’t say stupid things like that—women are never too pretty and feminine to be lesbians … I bet you a hundred bucks my girlfriend is hotter than yours.

How do you have sex without a man?

Very easily actually. If guys didn’t have penises, I am sure they would find something to do in bed with a woman. Contrary to assumptions made during the Victorian era, women can and do have sex without men all the time—and very well I might add.

Why do you have to flaunt your sexuality and shove it in our faces?

Every day of my life, I see heterosexual people holding hands, kissing each other, and wearing their heterosexual clothes. I see advertisements and movies; I watch TV shows and read magazines; everything I see celebrates and flaunts the lives and loves of heterosexuals. If anything, you shove your sexuality in my face all the time. If I hold hands with my girlfriend, I am not shoving anything into your face; I am just holding hands with my girlfriend. Not everything is about you.

Lesbians can’t raise kids, especially boys. Children need a mom and a dad.

Are you living in the 1950s? At least half of you reading this have divorced parents and of that group, nearly 80 percent of you lived with your mom after the divorce. Are you saying that you are screwed up because you only lived with your mom? Kids need love and security, and besides, all studies have shown that children raised by gay parents are no different from those who grow up in heterosexual households … so shut up.

Are you hitting on me?

Ummm … probably not. This may come as a surprise to you, but not all gay people want you. Do you want every heterosexual person you see? Don’t you have taste? Discernment? Get over yourself—you’re not that hot.

Hello sir (or dude, or bro, or son …)

Do you have eyes? Just because I have short hair and wear men’s clothes does not mean that I am a guy, that I want to be a guy, or that I hate guys. It’s just hair and clothes—get over it.

Can I watch?

No! And please stop asking. Life is not a porno movie. Would you want some dude watching you? I don’t think so.

You Take The Hit, I’ll Take The Blame (Ginny/Mike)

I need about 100 fluffy and or smutty Bawson fics ASAP, but as for now, here’s a post-1x10 oneshot.


This is his fault.

In the beginning, he had a bad habit of trying to protect her. Of riding in on his white horse, as it were, to save the day. It started when he called out the team by saying she worked harder than all of them, looking around at guys who had already given up two months into the season.

It came to a head during the beanball game, where he did everything to dissuade her from wading into the shit. She is doing something incredible here, and he’ll be damned if anything gets in the way of that.

Was. She was doing something incredible.

Keep reading

Take Care Of You

Originally posted by vaniwin

Pairing: Seth Rollins x Reader

GIF Credit: ^^

Warnings: Smut, swears, and fluff

Rating: Explicit

A/N: WWWWHHHAAAA!?!?! I have actually uploaded an imagine!? I have had this written for a long time now and I just never finished it, but I have now so I hope you guys like it! I’m combining two different requests from anons: “Seth Rollins smut where you broke 2 of your ribs in a match but it’s slowly healing.. But he’s really scared during sex incase he hurts you.. Please make it long and fluffy :( Pllllllease and thank you” and “Reader friends Charlotte and Dana stab her in the back in the ring (she didn’t knew about the change in the storyline) after that her whole body hurts and she feels horrible so she hide in one of the many empty rooms in the stadium and start crying, Seth hear her and try to give her comfort and somehow convince her to let him check if there anything broken in her body, Seth is so skilled with his words and hands that everything turn in smut”

The chair shot came from nowhere. It hit your skin so hard that it echoed throughout the arena, a sickening sound that made the people in the front row wince. You fell to your knees, dazed and in pain, gasping for air. Another hit and your body dropped to the mat. You could hear Charlotte yelling about how she was so superior to you, Dana laughing. Then you felt Dana kick you in the ribs, making you roll out of the ring. She picked you up and flung you into the steps. You felt something crack. Tears flooded your eyes and you dropped to the ground in a crumpled heap.

This wasn’t how it was suppose to happen. It was suppose to be a slap from Charlotte that would end your on screen alliance, not…this. You saw their boots turn and leave, Charlotte ‘woo’ing as she went. Their music blasted through the arena and trainers rushed to you. “Are you alright y/n?” You couldn’t answer so they helped you up the ramp, your arms slung over their shoulders. The moment you got back stage you shook them off, saying that you just needed ice and that was it. They did everything they could but you refused any help, too hurt emotionally and in too much pain to think clearly. Reluctantly, they handed you ice packs and let you walk away.

“Hey y/n!” It was her. You felt anger wash over you as you turned on Charlotte, your best friend. Before she could even get any words out, you completely exploded.

“What the fuck was that!? Why the fuck did you not tell me there was a change!? What kind of fucking stupid ass idea is that!?” She looked like you just slapped her, and you took so much satisfaction in that. “You know what, go fuck yourself Charlotte!” With that you turned and stomped off. She didn’t try to stop you, just mumbled something angrily under her breath. You had absolutely no idea why you refused medical attention or even where you were going. The sound of the crowd died away and you suddenly felt so alone, so isolated. Tears were falling from your eyes, completely obscuring your vision, so you opened the nearest door and locked yourself inside.

Keep reading

So there was a Religious Christian Bitty post that I saw and it’s Sunday and I haven’t been to any church in two months, much less my regular church or the baptist church I attend when I’m with Dinah, but I have so many feelings and thoughts on this. And its just going to be a bullet list because I don’t have enough faith in my writing style to properly show all of this in Bitty’s point of view so yeah here you go.

Warning: use of slurs, talking about religious beliefs, specifically Methodist and Baptist, mention of conversion camps, and mentions of hell and damnation

  • They had a family church, a tiny one in the middle of town a few doors down from the grocery store and across the street from the diner that his Pawpaw would go to every morning for some coffee. It was simple and a little beat up, but their family has been going there for ages.
  • Dicky, as he was then, remembers it very clearly. He was baptized as a baby, would play in the nursery, and ran up and down the pews all the time. It was a place of his childhood. It was third home, after his Moomaw’s house.
  • And as a kid, it wasn’t that bad. Sure he would have to get dressed up in his best, because you have to dress up to go to church in the South, ESPECIALLY in a baptist church. But he would go to Sunday School with the other kids and have fun there and then would fall asleep curled up in Coach’s arms as they sat in the pews for the church service. Then they would go back home and make a giant breakfast for the entire Bittle clan to enjoy. Sundays were honestly the best days of his life.
  • As soon as he was old enough, he was forced to join the kids choir because EVERY kid has to be in the choir. It’s mandatory. You don’t get a choice until you get to junior high or high school, and even then its a toss up. Can’t sing? Just speak very softly and hum a little.
  • They would have little festivals for Easter and the fall festival and a Christmas celebration that the entire town went to. During Christmas, the church would specially order snow for the kids to roll around in because that was the only way to see it in Georgia. It amazed Bitty the first time his Mama let him play in it when he was about 4. That should have tipped everyone off that he was going to be a little different.
  • when he started ice skating, things got tense. Nothing was directed at him, because he was only a kid, but he had heard some of the older ladies telling his mom that ‘she shouldn’t be allowing this’ and that ‘she was going to let temptation into his life and introduce him to ungodly things’. 
  • it would be a couple of years before he understood what ungodly things they were talking about. That would be one of many nights that he would cry himself to sleep over it.
  • The first time he was awake and heard a sermon on homosexuality was when he was 10. He knew about gay people and knew that they were going to hell(adults talk louder than they think) and he had been called a faggot once at school for ice skating, but it didn’t sink in until that sermon
  • This is getting really long so it’ll be under the cut 

Keep reading

ok! so!

like many of you i have been LOVING yuri on ice, it is a joy to the senses as well as the feels, and one of the few consistent bright spots of the last two weeks.

and so today i was listening to the full version of the op history makers by the wonderful dean fujioka (that i actually went and bought the full version off itunes, i love it that much i need it with me always) and, sorry if someone has already talked about this before, but i have come to the conclusion that the song, though sung as a solo by dean, is actually a duet between yuri and viktor, and that just makes me love it even more.

like, let’s take a look at the lyrics. We start off in first person with:

Can you hear my heartbeat?

Tired of feeling never enough

I close my eyes and tell myself that my dreams will come true

Originally posted by keigoo


and that is so clearly yuri at the start of the show. He feels like a failure, like he’s missed his chance, but in his heart he’s still not ready to give up on his dreams of being a winning skater.

Then we get the second verse, switching to second person:

there’ll be no more darkness

when you believe in yourself you are unstoppable

where your destiny lies, dancing on the blades,

you set my heart on fire

Originally posted by tch

and like, that is viktor, entranced by yuri and his skating from the youtube video onwards, seduced by him more and more with each performance as yuri grows as a skater. He believes in yuri and wants yuri to believe in himself (though he isn’t always the best at understanding how to help yuri do that :p)

and then we get the chorus, the two of them together, first person plural

don’t stop us now, the moment of truth

we were born to make history

we’ll make it happen, we’ll turn it around

yes, we were born to make history

Originally posted by theanimegoddess

this is them coming together, as skater and coach, as partners, as lovers. this is them as a united front looking to the future together.

and though the second half of the song is pretty much a repeat of the first, there is some important changes in yuri’s verse

Can you hear my heartbeat?

I’ve got a feeling it’s never too late

I close my eyes and see myself how my dreams will come true

Originally posted by dazaiosamu

and this change is markedly more positive than the first, he’s not feeling tired and down anymore, he’s inspired to move forward. And he’s no longer just telling himself ‘my dreams can come true’, he’s able to visualize it.

because he and viktor are together now, viktor has heard yuri’s heartbeat, and it has set viktor’s on fire.

Originally posted by nikiphorov

and that is why thinking this song is a duet somehow makes it EVEN BETTER IN CONTEXT FOR ME.

and out of context it is still an incredibly beautiful and positive song about having dreams and faith in yourself along with the will to move forward, BUT WHEN CONNECTED TO THE SHOW, yeah :)

Just look at them, Sakuya having his arm draped over Mahiru’s shoulder taking a picture or maybe he is showing something funny on the phone. They are so precious, I mean look at the way Mahiru smiles, how close they seem.
I  have so many feels over SakuMahi lately after a couple of discussions with some of you, seeing fanart and fanfics….Ahh my heart <3 I ship KuroMahi and SakuMahi too…
(Who’s in the same situation  as me?) Ok, I’m not just about shipping them, I only want them to be reunited so that the two of them can be together again.

Claire and I do a road trip

Her: “So, how many of my Chicago friends are you going to sleep with?”

Me: “Is this an option?!”

Her: *laughter*

Me: “I don’t know if this says something bad about me or if you just have reasonable expectations.”

Two minutes later:

Her: “So, with FunDip, are you supposed to eat the stick?”

Me: “I feel like we’re still talking about the sex thing.”

sjdslhjk my Christmas break has finally started and I am so exCITED to just…rest omg _(:3」∠)_ 

I’m exhausted. Too many social engagements, working like crazy to wrap up everything at the office for the year, getting SICK, having to stay in London for three nights because of goddamn train strikes Southern can go suck a dick i am sO ANGRY ABOUT TRAINS 

hnnng ANYWAY. 

I’ve got two more commissions to finish this year, which I hope to get done by the end of the weekend, AND THEN ALL OF THE PERSONAL ART. I’ve been feeling so itchy and creative recently so not being able to draw anything has been AWFUL :< I want to properly relax with self-indulgent art during my break, and FYI I will be streaming as normal this Saturday!

ANYWAY ANYWAY. 

Long story short: I’M BACK, WOOP WOOP. 

reasons why i consider obitine 500% more tragic than anidala

well, first of all, we all clearly know where my preference lies. but what makes me sad about obitine is that they never would have ever had a chance. it’s one thing to have a summertime crush, when they were both still young and under qui gonn’s supervision. they could both pretend it was nothing, that their friendship was only that. a friendship of two lonely souls who are only spending time with each other for a year.

by the time they reunite, they’re both adults, both with their own responsibilities and their own lives to lead. they both know, no matter what they feel, a future is impossible, for a multitude of reasons. ben has firmly established himself in the jedi order, he has friends and people he needs to watch over, not to mention a recently graduated padawan he needs to keep his eye on. satine meanwhile, is a leader of her people, the forefront of a political movement, and the target of frequent attacks by rebels. they aren’t love sick teenagers who can allow themselves to wonder what it would be like to abandon all their duties to be together. they’re mature, they can’t allow themselves to think like that. 

and neither satine nor obi wan are the type of people who, even if they had remained in contact for their entire lives, would have tried to pursue this. they’ve both got this particular honor code, and more importantly, they know that allowing themselves to act on their feelings would be a bad idea for them both. both obi wan and satine would have to sacrifice a lot to be together, and they love each other too mention to want to take something away from each other. 

and then, satine is fridged. quite literally, she is killed for the sole purpose of causing obi wan anguish, of making him feel pain. she’s part of a revenge plot she shouldn’t have been. her only factor into it was that she loved obi wan, and he loved her, so much so that he would have literally abandoned all his ideals and changed his entire life for her. and because of that, because she’s loved by him, and because she loves him, she pays with her life. satine never should have died, and any hope of these two having any happy future dies with her. 

whilst anidala had their moments of sunshine, an opportunity for some measure of happiness, these two had nothing. any friendship they had was always tinged by heartaching feelings they could never act on, and satine’s memory is forever tainted by the fact that she was brutally slain because obi wan made the mistake to love her. and whether she’d lived, nothing could have come of their feelings, and they would have been nothing but “what might’ve beens” and longing glances and the occasional touches and buckets of heartbreak and regret

anidala was a relationship killed in its prime. obitine never really had a chance to begin

A fast Rogue One entry

Remember the Diego Luna Appreciation Post? Well, I just wanna tell you that I saw Rogue One last night AND IT’S FUCKIN AWESOME!!!

And this movie made me think about a few things:

Diego Luna is gorgeous. A precious gift. And it’s SO awesome that many latinx kids will feel identified with his character.

Originally posted by whenthesmokeisgoingdown

Apparently the new Star Wars combo is British girl+Latino guy. And we all love it.

Originally posted by frekkenbok

Originally posted by starwars

Originally posted by ericgeller

Even though I want more brown and black and asian girls in Star Wars, having a girl as the main character in the last two movies is just perfect. Telling girls everywhere that they can be heroes and not only princesses is the best. Really thank you <3

Originally posted by starwars-gifs

The only white guy in the film’s gang of rogues (who are the good guys) is a robot, so I don’t know if he even counts.

Originally posted by k2so

The rest of the gang is made of: a woman, a latino, two asians, and an indian. A perfectly colourful ensamble.

Originally posted by kungfukaiju

And we can add Forest Whitaker.

Originally posted by exstormtroopers

Not exactly in the gang, but the other (and visibly only) white guy is Mads Mikkelsen. And he’s perfect. Anyway, have you noticed that he’s everywhere? Well, I am definitely not complaining.

Originally posted by kaninhus

I’m not gonna spoil anything BUT there are a lot of cameos. Like a LOT. You’ll be very happy when they happen.

Originally posted by starwars

Darth Vader. Darth. Fuckin. Vader.

Originally posted by lizziesolsen

And capes. Wonderful capes. Let’s ignore Edna Mode’s advice and let them wear wonderful capes.

Originally posted by bbgirlravenclaw