like, guys………………..if there were any Actual Real Life confirmage of Any of th heroes being ace
You Would Know
this blog would become nothing but me screaming incoherently for at least 4 days straight in all caps, all bold, the only thing i reblog is screenshots of whatever confirming source it was, i probably would be crying and record myself doing so
it would be a Real Big Huge thing and not just ‘#confirmed’
“Do you watch Big Brother? Every year I tell myself I won’t get attached but here I am in so fucking deep already” Astrid started shaking her head “its like why would you want to live with a group of people who are probably assholes just for a little money? I would actually punch someone out. I think we need a Big Brother with all the greek houses a real survival of the fittest”
i hide behind “im fine” like if i say it enough, somehow a lifeboat will come and pull me out of this ocean im stuck drowning in. i heard a poem one time and this guy said once you repeat something enough time it loses its meaning. im fine. im fine. im fine. maybe if i say it enough times it’ll lose its meaning too, maybe it’ll fade away into the wind and the breeze will blow away my tears and maybe i won’t have to hide behind these words like they are walls, like they are the only thing that can protect me. i don’t fucking know why i use “im fine” as a barrier, maybe because if i say what was on my mind, id get that look, you know the one where people are like “oh shit she’s losing it.” or maybe its because id rather be the one doing the saving. im fine. im fine. im fine. sometimes i wonder why people believe me, sometimes i wonder if they do at all and other times i think they’re just too scared to actually hear what im thinking, im afraid if i opened my mouth all they would hear is screaming. see, i have swallowed down the words i really should have said. like, i love you, please come back, don’t leave, i care about you so fucking much, can you stay for a while? i have also suppressed screams, sometimes they catch up to me and i find myself screaming at the sun, and yelling at even the brightest days. i hate this because i love the way the sun feels on my skin and i am afraid i have scared it away some days. wouldn’t that explain all the rain? wouldn’t that explain the way that for weeks on end sometimes i just can’t stop crying. i think my mothers worried, she’s starting calling me “baby” and “sweetheart” again, i think she’s scared her yelling has been stuck on replay in my head and im afraid to say that they are, along with every other voice of the people i love. if i try hard enough i can still hear the sound of your smile, or your laugh. - i understand now how you were feeling that night. i think when you’re surrounded by darkness you give up the hope of someone saving you, or maybe you hold onto it so tight that when someone throws you a rope and you go to grab onto it, it burns a hole straight through your hand and you fall once more because your palms are already warn out from all of the knocking. you see, when you’re in the dark, you see doors and you run to them but most of the time all they ever are, are vacant houses filled with ghosts and you enter and the silence is even more deafening and you’re even more alone and there’s more darkness and i know all the metaphors in the world couldn’t describe how shitty it feels when you hit bottom, but god damn i have tried to take away the pain with poetry and sometimes it works but this is an ache i just cannot write out, i cannot scream out, i can only feel it and let it take me down. but the thing about this is the loneliness is haunting me like the ghosts in the vacant houses and i know i am not alone but when nighttime comes and i lay my head down i can see the ghosts peering in my windows, they’re saying, “you’re alone now.” and they do not stop and trust me, i have tried to sleep the pain away but all that leaves me with is headaches and its like every remedy turns into a failed coping mechanism and i have realized that there’s really no proper way to survive. you just do it, and you do the best you can with what you’ve got and often times it hurts you. but i have realized one thing, and it’s that i am good at loving because for some i just have not run out of love for the people around me and maybe that’s what gets me off bottom, maybe the love coursing through my veins reminds me that i am still alive, so when you see me bleeding on the kitchen floor do not be alarmed, i promise i am alright, i have just let another person bleed me dry but do not worry, i will fill with love again tomorrow and day after day i will continue to drag myself off the floor and i will continue to smile at the goddamn sun even when it is raining, just don’t mind my yelling and teary eyes somedays, i try to hide it but somedays i cannot help but to spill all over because when you reach a certain point of sadness you can’t hold it in anymore but when i finally make it out of this i will say, “fuck you.” to the darkness because the thing about light is that in order to shine, you have to be surrounded by darkness. i mean after all, the sun is surrounded by darkness too but it doesn’t let it consume it, it simply shines among it. and i will not let the ghosts haunt me anymore, i will not let the darkness consume me, i will shine, and i will shine the best that i fucking can and i will show every single vacant house that didn’t feel like home, that i, myself, am home and i am going to make it out of this alive.
my heart is beating so fast, I'm trying not to scream but I cANT *Dies* I MEAN GOOD GUY GALRA LOOKs LIKE KEITH I MEAN????? he looks so fatherly and why would he like help the guys hmmmmmm🤔🤔👀👀👀👀 gtg im dying
I WAS GONNA GO ON A REACH AND COMPARE KEITH AND 3G’S FACES BUT THEN I WAS LIKE @ myself: it’s not that deep.
I’m making it that deep goddamn it.
Here’s the evidence I’ve compiled about the similarities between Keith and 3G:
Same eyebrows. Like, they actually do have the same eyebrows. Look at that curve. The angles. These are the eyebrows of people who mean business.
They both have goofy hairstyles. Granted, everyone in the Galra empire looks like a cross between a kitten and a bat, but still.
They both love Fighting™
Here are some pictures of their respective knives:
Sorry for the slightly blurry quality, Netflix can suck my big toe. Anyway.
Keith’s knife is like… A baby version of 3G’s knife.
I argue that 3G’s knife is a big and ceremonial (but still functional) blade that was given to him due to his high status in Zarkon’s forces. That’s why it’s so much bigger, has more decorative engravings, and looks like something out of Tron.
Keith’s knife is plainer, but no less functional. To me, it doesn’t look like a normal human blade. It’s shaped so weirdly, like a piece of pizza. This isn’t a pocket knife, you can’t hide this at all, so why does Keith have it? Where did Keith get it?
Also, the hilt of Keith’s blade is covered.
On the hilt of 3G’s blade, we see a symbol. It could mean anything; his rank, his blood type, or his name. We don’t know. But it marks 3G’s blade as distinctly alien.
Keith’s blade is covered in the exact same area. Why? To hide something that would make it stand out on Earth.
but think about badboy!michael with weird hair, who sits next to you in English, when he actually comes to school, that is. He always made jokes about your old geezer of a teacher to make you laugh, and tried even harder when he noticed you were down in hopes of cheering you up, you’ve only seen him come to school a full week a handful of times since the year started, and knew he had to have a pile of truancy letters forming somewhere in his room. One day you decide to confront him about it, mostly out of the curiosity you had about what he must be doing all day, and he comes up with some sob story about having to work a part time job to help his struggling family out, and sometimes having to miss school because of it, or having some illness that requires he practically live at the hospital, but it’s all completely bullshit. Once you’d gone soft, of course, he would laugh and tell you he just hated school, and even though you were mad about him lying about something so serious, you couldn’t help but let out a giggle with him. “Dammit, Clifford. Don’t joke about that,” and he’s just get the goofiest smirk, thinking he is the smoothest person ever when he says, “Sorry, how about you skip with me tomorrow, so I can take you out? I couldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t make it up to you somehow” And he’d just grin and playfully pick on you for blushing when you said yes.