maybe someone can do better

i. nice girl meet nice guy. nice guy has a dimpled chin, and brown eyes that swirl like vats of darkest chocolate. molten, it’s warm from mouth to throat to stomach, sweet and easy to swallow if you ignore the aftertaste. nice guy has a smile that 6 out of 7 dentists ( and one LONELY little girl ) have fallen in love with.

ii. nice guy holds your hand when it’s dark. he pulls out your seat and tells you look beautiful after you’ve spent hours upon hours primping, stacked them one by one, like ribbon curls and coral corkscrews over your head. nice guy brushes your hair behind your ear and calls you HIS GIRL. you hear that, world? his his his -– it clings to your skin like perfume, the Toxic Scent of Possession™ ( Eu de don’t trust him ).  


iii. nice guy shows you off to his nice friends, slips a sly grin up over your head and those fingers that once kissed the skin between your own, they drift lower, and lower, and – and you’re shoved away like a mule, a horse – no, a trophy to the back of the display case. it’s gross and it’s disgusting, and god damn, does it hurt. but there’s a part of you that doesn’t care. the part of you that just wants to shine, it ignores the glass house, this glass cage. 


iv. nice guy wipes away the tears he strung out of you, kisses you until you forget you’re crying and steals your breath like a hat-trick. half the time you are the balloon that’s kissing the ceiling. half the time you’re nose to the floor, but days like these, don’t you feel like you could BURST? 


v. there’s blood on the glass, and it won’t shatter. you’ll bleed to death before you break free. 


vi. you’re searching for him in an empty bed you don’t remember getting into. you’re an empty room you don’t remember renting out –– and this room, this bed, they’re yours to lie in.

—  SOMEWHERE ALONG THE WAY YOU FORGOT WHAT NICE MEANT // d.s.

4

just some tests! the asexual flag and the aromantic flag with brown and black stripes included!! i dont know if anyone else has come up with anything but maybe there’s someone else out there that can do a better, more cohesive job than me. the point is inclusion and i want to make sure everyone knows they’re included, loved, supported, and that their existence is validated. i didnt see anyone else doing it so i figured why not.

anonymous asked:

How do you think Ymir's idea/founding of Freedom in 89 connects or contributes thematically throughout the series and how it may come up in future chapters? Or what Isayama has left to address in these final arcs/chapters. Honestly I'd just love to read your thoughts/writings on the characters, the details you've noticed that are tying it all together and where it may end up. (not concrete predictions, your chapter 90 thoughts highlighted the joy in the spontaneity and odd choices the writing)

This question is my new favorite.

The intensely interesting thing about Ymir is that in her story, it is spelled out as explicitly as you ever could ask for that Paradis is her freedom.

Chronologically, at this point in the story, everyone is running around screaming over their home being destroyed. They’re buckling down and racing further inside the walls as fast as they can, filling their cage to max capacity and throwing people out to die so the rest of them can survive.

Ymir opens her eyes in this place, and she sees freedom. She’s alive, and she has her mind back, and there’s no one nearby who wants her dead. She can do whatever she wants, and it’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.

That’s the vision we’re presented with as Paradis comes to grips with the fact that they’re hated by the entire world. Ymir doesn’t see the walls closing in; she looks up at the sky and finds life.

And she opens that statement with how little individual humans matter. They’re sort of meaningless, right? There’s no real value in any of her flailing, or anyone else’s.

Except when she reaches Paradis, she can choose.

She doesn’t matter. There’s no significance to her struggles.

She still has the power to do whatever the heck she wants.

That’s so cool.

Keep reading

2

i’m cleaning and organizing my closet and i find these Metallic colored pencils from Derwent that were gifted to me long ago. Now back then i didn’t continue using them because i didn’t really like them so i decided to give ‘em another round after all these years.

yeah, i still don’t like ‘em. lol.

I mean, they’re fine. i guess i just don’t like metallic pencils. And i remember them being water soluble so i tried that. Not any better, it looks like dried spilled milk, haha gross (bottom right on the right image).

Also i was so mad with myself b/c i colored his mask green but i wanted i purple and i thought they didn’t have purple but they did. So i tried overlapping and it wouldn’t take and then i put in blue and pink to make purple but it just turned into rainbow cellophane color and my hatred for them grew. haha, fun times.

left image is normal and the right i tired to catch the “metallic sheen” *shrugs*

I wrote a quick song about the Cipher Hunt!

I’m sick right now, so it doesn’t sound as good as it could be. I might make a better version later, but feel free to create your own version. Maybe someone with a better voice than mine can do these lyrics justice.

Here are the lyrics:

He’ll found
We won’t back down
We’ll cross the globe then
turn around!

Let’s go! He’s somewhere out there!
Be safe, be smart, and BEWARE
we fans can be relentless,
but please don’t
be senseless!

One question for the fans:
Will we or won’t we shake his hand?

Made with SoundCloud
2

‘  You sipped your drink while waiting for your boyfriend, Cas in a bar.

 Idiot 1: Hey hot stuff, can I get you a drink?

 You turned to see two muscular, tall men. You glanced at the door and saw Castiel walk in.

 Y/N: Sorry guys, but my ride is here.

 You placed a 15 dollar bill on the counter and grabbed your jacket, bidding the bartender a good night. Suddenly the second guy grabbed your arm.

 Idiot 2: Come on sugar, the night just started.

 Castiel: Is there a problem.

 Idiot 1: This is him? Oh you can do so much better. Maybe someone like me. Someone who can protect you. Look at him. He’s so weak.

 Castiel: I’m an angel, you ass.

 Idiot 2: He’s a nutter too.

 Within a blink Castiel’s fist collided with the jaw of the second guy, making him lose his grip on you. The first guy backed away as his friend knocked out on the ground.

 Y/N: Let’s go. There is nothing for us here.     ‘

awwww that episode was both really utterly emotional and really cute

Pearl was once again at 100% this episode holy shit pearl points and pearl pouch im dyinG WHAT DOES SHE HAVE IN THERE, JUT GAG TOYS IM SCREAMING

Steven tried really hard to make Amethyst feel better, and its great to note that downplaying your own achievements is not a great thing to do and could come off as patronizing 

it’s also great to see that Amethyst KNOWS why she feels upset and that she doesnt wanna feel this way but she DOES, and that shows that you are entitled to your own feelings and how you feel, even if they dont make ‘sense’

Steven and Amethyst worked out their problems their own way, the whole ‘IM WORST THAN YOU ARE AND IM GONNA PROVE IT’ bit was their way of coping as it were

The angry complements were really cute though oh my god ‘Is that new?? *in an angry voice* cuz thats AWESOME ‘

Ponytail/messy bun Amethyst: Yes.

‘You RUINED the RUINS!!’ Pearl omfg

I KNEW that Steven had this feeling of inadequacy in regards to Rose and thats why he’s trying so hard and I really want this to be addressed with the others, ESPECIALLY since its being brought up more and more with Jasper’s ‘Rose’ comments

This episode was all about the feeling of inadequacy and how sometimes when you think that you’re good at something, someone else can come and do it too, maybe even better and that hurts

but don’t ever feel like you don’t make your own contributions, you ARE great the way you are

very well done crewniverse

To anyone reading this: it doesn’t matter what you did today. It doesn’t matter what you failed to do today. Here’s a loving reminder that you are just a person, you’re only a human being and you were never expected or intended to be perfect. There aren’t really any rules in life and there’s actually nothing definitive that you HAVE to be. Take the pressure off, take the fear away and just think about what you actually want in life. Also remember that the best way to help yourself is to help others so if you feel like your life is lacking meaning or direction and you don’t know what to do, maybe think of something you can do for someone else. It’ll make you feel better and it’ll make them feel better too. We truly do need each other. We’re only complete when we’re connected. So yeah, God loves you a lot and you are so special! You’re alive for a REASON. There are so many good things you’ve already done, it’s all about those little moments when we can lift each other up and make each other smile. Hang in there, I PROMISE life is so much better than it seems sometimes and it’s definitely never as bad as we think. You’re gonna be okay. In fact, you’re gonna be GREAT 😊❤

mathemata  asked:

Don't care for a reply, but as the A.G.RA topic went through your posts a while back, I thought I'd just leave you with something I noticed while wasting a perfectly good evening on another terrifically terrifying viewing of HLV - In Magnussen's mind palace, the file he pulled out on Mary had the cyrillic equivalent of AGRA typed on it. One can't but help notice when the east wind is blowing one's head off.

Ooh, nice.

And there it is: АГРА. (Though once again the punctuation changes in the English version, because they are trying to kill the proofreader in me.)

Two things to keep in mind when it comes to Mary and languages:

1) In TEH, one of the words in the Mary deduction cloud was “linguist.”

2) In HLV, Sherlock told Mary, “Your accent is currently English but I suspect you are not.”

As for the rest of Magnussen’s file, it’s impossible to read much of it unless maybe someone can do better with a higher res version. Some fans who are a million times more likely to know what they are talking about with Cyrillic language stuff than me have picked a few words out and seem to be in agreement that the document is in Russian.

The Russian + assassin thing does bring back memories of Ludmila Dychenko, the “Russian killer” from TRF.

Ludmila was the one in “the flat opposite” 221B. She’s interesting for a couple reasons. One is that of all the random folks running around with guns in TRF, Ludmila was the only one who was never seen doing anything. There was just the one still photo of her. But that helps mask the other reason she was interesting—of the three assassins chasing Jim’s fictional key code, she was the only one left alive at the end. (If you’re new-ish here, I’ve got a big old process of elimination post to explain why I say that, but do keep in mind it’s from way before Series 3.)

I had thought about Ludmila earlier, since she was the only one of the living random-folks-with-guns from TRF we didn’t even get a suggestion of in Series 3. She’s not Mary, though, unless some plastic surgery and a height change and such were part of the package. (And not deducing the truth about Mary is one thing, but Mycroft would need to be slapped if an assassin under his surveillance morphed into John’s girlfriend and he didn’t think it was worth mentioning.) Plus Ludmila was running around being an assassin in TRF, and in HLV Sherlock said Mary had taken on her new ordinary-person identity 5 years ago. (Meaning she was already “Mary Morstan” at least a couple years before TRF.)

BUT maybe if Mary does have a Russian connection, she did know Ludmila at some point? Or Ludmila knew of her, and saw her when she was in London during TRF? Or… something?

Let’s call this a weekend project for you guys. Enjoy!

5500: Homo FOMO

My friend rages hard. Weekly blackouts, raves every couple of months, and enough drugs to tranquilize a race horse make the staleness of their 9-to-5 tech job a little more bearable. I’ve recently downshifted my partying to the once-a-month frequency and exchanged shots of Fireball in the Castro for espresso shots at my local cafe. This of course is not to pass judgment: as long as my friend gets home at the end of the night with wallet and dignity intact, what they do for fun doesn’t bother me. But the contrast between their weekends and mine brings up the almost comical millennial dilemma of FOMO, or the Fear of Missing Out. The anxiety that my youth, expendable income, and energy are being wasted on a benign existence is a little unsettling, compounded by the fact that I can see everyone else’s seemingly more rewarding experiences constantly trickle down my Facebook newsfeed. I pondered all this last night while curled up in bed with a box of Trisuits and my laptop to (semi) binge-watch the first two episodes of the new season of Looking.

I really love that show by the way. Aside from some obvious flaws (tired character archetypes, limited actor diversity, over-glorification of San Francisco), Looking shines with its quick wit, smart storytelling, and realness. While the characters themselves may seem more like caricatures of gay male paradigms—the narcissistic artist, the aging bachelor, the naive romantic—it’s easy to find a little bit of yourself in each of them. Beauty, success, longevity, commitment—these are all ideals that people struggle to reconcile in their daily lives. But in the microcosm of gay San Francisco, the intensity and pressure to maintain them simultaneously is magnified by competition, shade, and social media. Look as ripped as that cute guy on Instagram. Be as successful as those snobby tech gays. Promise never to become that 50-year old creeper in the rice paddies of Badlands. Mold myself into the perfect boyfriend, buy a condo in SOMA, start a family, and celebrate my silver anniversary by the age of fifty. The expectation in the gay world is to be flawless: scrub yourself of all visible blemishes to make yourself presentable on the off chance that you run into your one true love in the gluten-free aisle of Whole Foods, or Gay Church aka Dolores Park, or the gym sauna.

More often than not though, we are the men of Looking: messy, repressed, self-loathing, struggling to make ends meet, contorted between the desire for commitment and the urge to fuck the next best thing. In our own quest to be flawless, we become intolerant of the flaws of those we date, or chat with, or get into bed with. We forget that flaws are natural, that they’re part of the package. We insist that settling down is one of our priorities, yet we refuse to put in the compromise and effort required to make things work between two imperfect individuals. There’s no shortage of eligible men in this city, so why settle? This, in so many words, is homo FOMO: the aversion towards commitment to meet someone better.

And it quickly becomes a circular trap: maybe that hot top with killer abs doesn’t know how to manage his credit card debt; maybe that charming MBA student has an extreme kink you just can’t quite itch; maybe that lumbersexual hipster who grows crystals on his fireplace mantle is just a little much. So then you trade in again, and again, and again, ad infinitum. But even the men you upgrade to will have issues of their own that will have to be addressed, and maybe you’ll realize halfway down this spiral that you had it better long before, with that sweet graphic designer with a cool tattoo who was just a little monotone.

So then when’s a girl supposed to stop? At what point does settling become less of a dating strategy and more of a commitment? Another friend shared some wisdom that seems to answer this question: It’s so hard to find someone who’s genuinely good to you despite your own flaws, so when that person finds you, try to hold on. Try to make it work.

And I have. It’s hard, but I’m really trying to shake the mentality that I can do better with someone else. Because maybe I can, but the person I’m with will also be constantly evolving, just as I am, to potentially become that better person that I’m hoping to find.