most of the times i don't even know

i’m calmer than yesterday… not actually calm but my brain can definitely function a bit better

and i’ve now rewatched the episode so many times that i’ve managed to narrow down my favourite scene to just one

in fact it’s not even a scene, it’s one tiny 8 second piece of dialogue really

when aaron says “i know i keep saying that i’m fine but-” and robert replies “about tomorrow? but you’re not. i know”

that moment is literally everything to me. i’m not even sure i can put it into any kind of coherent structure because a lot of it has to do with the delivery as well as the lines themselves 

it wasn’t just how soft they were both speaking, it wasn’t how raw aaron’s voice sounded and how gentle robert was in return. it wasn’t even that it was a slight subversion on their usual ‘but you know’ ‘i know’ tradition and somehow even more beautiful because of its differences

it was more the overarching meaning behind those two lines, because it basically encompassed everything that’s so pure and good about them together, something neither have experienced before

aaron could never open up to anyone about his fears, always pushed them down or let them out by hurting himself rather than talking it through. but robert was the first person he trusted with some of the most painful aspects of his life, the first person he felt comfortable enough with to talk about it to

and robert, someone who’s never been trusted, always the last person someone would go to if they needed help… suddenly he was someone’s go-to person. aaron had literally said it back in april: “i want to rely on you, robert” and robert had confirmed exactly how much that meant to him by answering “i want you to be able to rely on me, too”

and that’s it, isn’t it? they’re two people who each want to trust and be trusted, to love and be loved. and they’d never found it so completely before each other

and that’s what that tiny piece of dialogue summed up for me. aaron trusting robert enough to voice his deepest fears, knowing with absolute certainty that robert would be there to support and comfort him. and robert, held at arms length his whole life, suspected and accused and shunned, finally has someone who loves all of him, who wants him there through good times and bad, someone who absolutely relies on him for love and support

for such an understated moment, it really did say so much

10

Journal 3 shitpost doodle dump part 2! (Part 1 is over here and part 3 is over here)

To be honest, I don’t think I’m done yet. There’ll probably be a part 3 as well because there’s just so much more I want to poke fun of. This book truly is the gift that keeps on giving.

Qeb yfddbpq jvpqbov fp elt Afmmbo zlria obxa qefp glrokxi xka pqfii qefkh qeb Xrqelo txp x zlli drv.

When all your friends are posting pics with their significant other for Valentine’s Day but you’re still single

Consider this: Episode 10 showed us that Victor most likely went to Hasetsu with the expectation that Yuri would be at least somewhat like the bold, daring Yuri he felt drawn to at the banquet, which would explain why Victor seemed so surprised/disappointed every time Yuri backed away from his attempts to get closer… and yet, AND YET… even though Yuri turned out to be this shy, anxious soul who was not at all like he expected… Victor ended up completely falling in love with him anyway. And I think that’s beautiful.  

2

Final Fantasy 15 - Nyx Urlic

Nyx constantly makes my job just a tad bit harder. You can now see why I don’t really get my work done these days.

hey !!   what about a shout-out to all  of the  non-mutuals.
those of  you who didn’t get  a follow back for whatever reason
but who  still decided to  stick around to  have us on your dash.
we see you over there,  every time you like or reblog our posts
& we always appreciate your support of us, mun & muse alike.

so this one goes out to you    ——because you’re super rad !!

Fool’s Gold

I have this image of Joel Heyman, one of the most widely recognized founders of the notorious RT Crew,  meeting lil Gavin Free for the first time.

Like, imagine, Gavin was over in the US for a bit, helping Gus with some hacking and following Burnie and Geoff around like a lost puppy, and Joel stumbles upon him.

Maybe Joel was away, overseas maybe, talking to some fences about the Monet paintings stashed in the warehouse (and maybe looking into a gold heist on the side) and he finally comes home, to find a kid (a literal kid, Jesus Christ Burnie) lounging around the penthouse.

Joel knows about Gavin, there’s no way he couldn’t with how often Burnie and Geoff, and even Gus, praised the “dumbass little genius,” but he had never seen his face before.

Gavin notices him, and nearly breaks his laptop in his haste to stand up. Joel stares at him for a moment before gesturing him to follow. Gavin scrambles after him.

“So…” Joel drawls as he leads the other through the maze-like halls of the penthouse. “What’s your schtick, kid.”

“Hacker,” Gavin states instantly. “Burnie brought me to—“

Joel waved that away. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I meant what else.”

Gavin shot him a look of confusion. Joel groaned obnoxiously.

“Y’knoooow, what else did he bring you for? There’s no way he brought you here just to hack, I mean, we already have Gus, and Jason, and Burnie’s no slouch in the technical division himself. So, why’d he bring you all the way here?” Joel stops in the hallway, Gavin nearly slamming into his back. Joel turns and stares intently at the younger man. “What did he see in you?”

Gavin looks mildly affronted, and Joel wonders if he should backtrack when Gavin speaks again.

“I ran a crew, back in England. It was small, pretty damn small for all that we accomplished, but it worked. I spent most of my time hacking, or planning, but I was a frontman too.” Here, he hesitates, averting his eyes, before he looks back at Joel.

“Geoff has some plans…and he’s teaching me to be a frontman. New identity and everything.”

Joel scrutinizes him for a second before he continues walking.

“Have you thought of one yet? An identity?”

Gavin shrugs sheepishly. “All the ones I’ve come up with are rubbish. I think Geoff’s beginning to think I’m a lost cause.”

Joel hums before stopping abruptly in front of a door. He digs the key out of his pocket and unlocks it, gesturing Gavin in.

“Uh…Joel?” Gavin asks while Joel rummages through his drawers. “What exactly am I doing here?”

Joel ignores him, muttering to himself. He finally finds what he’s looking for and exclaims, slamming the drawer closed. He holds up something to Gavin’s face.

“Do you know what this is?”

“Uh yeah, gold?” Gavin reaches for it, but Joel snatches it away.

“Nope,” Joel says, popping the ‘p.’ “This, kid, is pyrite. Also known as ‘Fool’s Gold.’ To the untrained eye, it looks identical to gold, but its not. Just sulfur and iron fused together.”

“Okay—?”

“Hey!” Joel snaps, glaring. “I’m giving you a lesson here, shut the fuck up.”

Gavin puts his hands up in surrender, and Joel huffs once before continuing.

“This, this is your identity. The point of the frontman is to be the face of the crew, while also gaining information. You have to make it easy for people to trust you, while also fearing you. You pick a role and that’s the role everyone will know you as. Does that make sense?”

Gavin nods.

“You have to be like Fool’s Gold. You have to look shiny and expensive. You’re forcing people to look at the crew like a precious metal, you understand? But you have to be more than that. Fool’s Gold has edges, like a crystal, and it’s stronger than regular gold. It may not be actual gold, and you—“ he pokes Gavin in the chest “—may be playing a role, hiding behind smoke and mirrors, but you can’t ever let anyone else know that. The crew depends on no one ever finding out. That’s the point of a frontman.”

Gavin looks at him, equal parts awed and overwhelmed.

“I—“ Gavin clears his throat. “I think I understand. Thank—”

Joel waves away the appreciation, tossing the piece of pyrite to the other.

“Get outta here, I’m exhausted. Who just got off a long ass flight? This guy! All you fuckers don’t even know what it feels like to be Joel. And where’s my appreciation? ‘Oh Joel can you do this, can you do that?’ No! Everyone can just go fuck themselves!” Joel ends his tirade, smiling a little when Gavin laughs.

“Get outta here, kid.“

“See you, J-Roll.”

A few months later, Joel hears about Geoff’s crew out in Los Santos, wrecking havoc all along the shore. He hears about his second-in-command, his brawlers, his sniper, and his mercenary. But, mainly, he hears about Ramsey’s Golden Boy, and Joel can’t help but laugh.

I know we joke about hating it but tbh I kind of love how D&P lowkey stalk all of us and like random tweets and posts that we don’t tag them in. It shows that they actually pay attention to everything we say or think and that’s pretty cool.

Making Sense

A SnowBaz fic for the Carry On Countdown

There was flour fucking everywhere.

“Did any of the flour get into the bowl?” Baz mused as Simon dumped another cup of the powder on the countertop, dropping a ball of dough on top and sending a cloud of flour drifting across the kitchen.

“Shut up,” Simon grinned, gingerly biting the leftover dough off of his fingers.  “Do you think we put in enough cherries?”

“We already did double what the recipe called for.”

“I know, but I want there to be cherries -”

“In every bite,” Baz finished, smiling fondly at Simon concentrating on the dough, his brow furrowing involuntarily.  Baz loved that furrow.  That furrow was only one of countless things Baz loved about Simon.

Simon turned to meet his eye, and Baz quickly dropped his gaze to the flour-covered counter.  Baz loved Simon’s eyes too much to even be able to look at them.  It was like trying to stare at the sun; he had to look away after a second, but the image was still there, stuck behind his own eyes, burnt onto his retinas.

Oblivious little fuck.

“Should I roll it thinner?” Simon asked, snapping Baz out of his thoughts.  Not that it mattered, the thoughts would carry on, like subtitles in his brain, impossible to ignore.

“It looks fine,” Baz shook his head.  “I wonder though, should we add something to them?  Like peppermint extract or something?”

“Why would we do that?”

“They are meant to be for a Christmas party…”

“So we’ll make Christmas cookies next,” Simon shrugged, “I’m not going to change the scones, they’re perfect as they are.”

Baz got an idea.  “How about we cut them with Christmas cutters?”

Simon laughed.  “The scones?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright.”

They dipped their cookie cutters in the inch-thick layer of flour that covered the counter and cut their scones into Christmas trees and gingerbread men.  They worked in silence, side by side, Baz trying to hide the bristling that occurred whenever he was close to Simon.  He still found it hard to believe that after all these years of being friends and spending time together, Simon had still never seemed to notice the effect he had on Baz.

They both reached into the flour bowl at the same time, their hands brushing.  It shouldn’t have made Baz blush, it wasn’t like they never touched each other, but Baz couldn’t help the fact that every touch felt like an electric shock, like it made his neck crawl.

The second their hands brushed, Baz fought the urge to snatch his back.  He wasn’t expecting Simon to do the snatching.

Baz peeked at Simon’s face.  The boy was staring down at the dough, but his eyes were wide and his cheeks were…

Don’t overthink it, he told himself. You mean nothing to him, not like that.

But there was that tiny voice inside somewhere that kept him hoping.  What if you do?

“Ready for the oven then?” Simon broke the silence, a little loudly for such a simple question, especially with Baz right beside him.

“Sure,” Baz replied, trying to sound light, and they transferred the dough onto the pan, sliding it into the oven and setting the timer. Baz brushed the flour dust off his hands and turned back to Simon.  “Now we wait.”

Simon had an odd expression on his face.  He stared sort of… past Baz, like he was so lost in thought that he was seeing the things he was thinking, and they were happening right behind Baz.  “What shall we do in the meantime?” Simon murmured.

“Well,” Baz watched Simon’s face, puzzled.  “We could start to clean up, I guess.”

Simon’s eyes narrowed.  “We could, yeah.”

“Did you have something else in mind?”

Suddenly Simon’s eyes met Baz’s, too quickly for Baz to look away.  He returned the gaze as coolly as he could, feeling more and more exposed with every second that dragged by.  “Something wrong?” he managed, his mouth dry.

“No,” Simon murmured, not looking away.  “Nothing’s wrong.  In fact, something’s right.  Everything’s right.”  He took a deep breath.  “Everything is… making sense.”

“R-really?”

Simon took a step towards Baz, then another.  His gaze was so intense that Baz instinctively backed up, finding that he had nowhere to go, he was already backed against the counter. “Simon,” he stammered, “what are you doing?”

“There’s…” Simon cocked his head up at Baz, now only inches away.  “There’s flour on your face.”  He reached a hand up to brush his thumb across Baz’s cheek, so softly that it felt like a butterfly’s touch.  Baz could hear his heart pounding in his ears, louder and louder and…

And then Simon reached up…

And Baz’s heart went silent.

Because Simon was kissing him.  Shyly.  On the mouth.

Baz’s eyes scrunched shut, and he went so tense that his stomach almost felt sick.

Simon dropped away from Baz’s mouth.  When Baz opened his eyes, Simon’s face was red, and his brow was furrowed again.  “I’m sorry,” he muttered.

Baz had to take a couple of breaths before he found his voice. “W-what for?”

Simon’s eyes were blurring up.  “I thought I’d figured it out,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “I thought that you wanted… that. I guess not.”

“Did… did you want that?”

Simon squeezed his eyes shut, and a tear dripped from one of them.  “It doesn’t matter.”

“Simon,” Baz rushed to dry the tear from Simon’s cheek, not even thinking about the gesture.  “I need to know.”

For once, it was Simon who couldn’t meet Baz’s eyes.  “Yes, alright?  I wanted it, but clearly you didn’t, so let’s just forget it happened and carry on.”  His voice was hitching as he fought back tears, his breath becoming ragged.

Baz didn’t know it was possible for a heart to be broken and mended at the exact same time, but while Simon’s tears tore him apart, he felt light as air, practically giddy.  Without letting himself think about it, he leaned down and kissed the tear off of Simon’s face, letting his lips linger a second longer than they needed to.  He felt Simon’s shuddering stop in surprise.  When he met Simon’s eyes, neither of them looked away.  “Wait,” Simon breathed, “did you want that?”

Baz could barely whisper the words “God, yes” before he was crashing into Simon’s mouth again.  This time there was no hesitation, no stiffness, just a lifetime of wanting coming to a head.  

Simon’s mouth tasted of cherries and the salty sweetness of the dough he’d been sneaking the entire time.  Baz’s hands went from Simon’s face to his hair, one hand exploring the back of Simon’s neck.  Simon gave Baz’s chest a push, and before either of them knew what was happening, Baz was sitting on the countertop, Simon straddling his lap and kissing him so deeply that Baz thought he might faint.  Simon’s hands cupped Baz’s face, still pushing him back until Baz was leaning his head against the cupboards, the cold wood the only thing giving him any sense of direction.  His world was nothing but Simon, and he couldn’t hold back a moan as Simon angled his head and opened Baz’s mouth with his own.  

It wasn’t until much later, when they finally broke apart, dizzy and gasping for breath, that they realized they’d sat in the flour.

*things that will either cause me to cheer loudly or shrivel up with acute second-hand embarrassment* 

  • Bedelia and Will starting a sentence at the same time and one of them having to back down 
  • Bedelia executing the most clinically brutal couples-therapy drag of him and Hannibal 
  • possibly whilst also off her tits on drugs or poison
  • Will seeing the dress Hannibal chose 
  • Hannibal doing the goo-goo eyes at Will and Bedelia’s right frickin’ there
  • Will self-consciously eating the food while Hannibal is avidly watching him, and knowing he’s watching him, but that Bedelia is also watching him, and also watching Hannibal watch him (after that line about Hannibal feeling a stab of hunger for him!!!) 
  • Bedelia mentioning things that Will told her in confidence during therapy 
    • Will trying to sass her back and succeeding
    • Will trying to sass her back and failing 
    • Will either failing to conceal or openly indulging his inner jealous!bitch and Hannibal being almost obscenely gratified 
    • Bedelia repeatedly mentioning Will’s Grieving Widow
    • Bedelia mentioning that crush Hannibal told him Will had on Alana 
    • JUST. HANNIBAL. AND BEDELIA. AND WILL. 
    • THE THREE SMARTEST, BITCHIEST COOKIES. 
    • IN THE SAME ROOM.

    [5]

    HNN. 

    HNNN. 

    Ok so I can’t decide if Fai is going down there to meet Kurogane personally or if he freaked himself out by how scared he was and needs to not be here when Kurogane arrives.

    I CAN’T DECIDE WHICH IS BETTER, BUT I AM THRILLED THAT IT’S HAPPENING EITHER WAY.

    In the meantime I fixed the dialogue. 

    You’re welcome

    8

    get to know me: [05/10] animated movies

    In the beginning, we were ordinary street rats, stealing our daily bread, and living off the efforts of man’s work. We were captured, put in cages, and sent to a place called NIMH. There were other animals there, in cages. They were put through the most unspeakable torture, to satisfy some scientific curiosity. Often, at night, I would hear them cry out in anguish. Twenty rats and eleven mice were given injections. Our world began changing.

    When I correct husbandry, I am not attacking you. I know we all make mistakes—we’re human after all—but when someone points out that your husbandry is dangerously incorrect, please listen to them. Start doing more research. Get more educated opinions.

    It’s not a personal attack and I never mean to come off that way. I am trying to help you, so please, please listen.

    Actual things said to me by health care professionals while working as a healthcare professional

    You can’t be in pain, you laughed at someone’s joke.

    You were fine yesterday, you must be faking.

    Migraines and asthma attacks are 100% preventable. You only get them because you want to cause drama.

    During an asthma attack: I can hear you wheezing when you breathe. Stop being so dramatic. 

    About being incapacitated by a migraine: We handle our little headaches like adults here. 

    You need to stop it with the health problems. It worries people, and that disrupts their work flow. 

    Black History Month: Michael Jackson

    Many people seem to forget (or just don’t know) how important Michael Jackson is and how much he contributed to the black community. I am here to educate you :)

    Africa

    Michael Jackson visited Africa multiple times. He was very interested in and informed about the continent, its people, and their culture. He described Africa as “home.” The Anyi people even crowned him King Sani.

    Charities

    Michael Jackson supported the most charities ever by a pop star, many of which were black charities. These include (but are not limited to) the United Negro College Fund, the Brotherhood Crusade, the Congressional Black Caucus, and the NAACP. Even “We Are the World” was recorded to raise money and awareness for Africa.

    Black Artists & HIStory

    Michael Jackson was very passionate about the poor treatment black artists receive from the industry. He was outraged about the lack of pay, recognition, and credit. MJ called out Sony for the way they treated him and many other artists (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fr6CRcrQxDw) (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eNZ1lOxsYYQ). He talked about the lies printed in history books, and he spoke out on Elvis stealing music written by black people. Here’s a photo of a quote that he wrote on the Elvis statue in Neverland:

    Neverland

    Michael Jackson opened his home to inner city children. He would feed them, let them get on rides, etc., all for free.

    Catalogs

    Michael Jackson would buy the catalogs of black artists who no longer owned them and return their music to them. One of these artists was Little Richard. 

    Simply Being Black

    Lastly, Michael Jackson always showed admiration for darker people and talked about how beautiful dark skin is. He openly discussed how proud he was of being black. Sidenote: For the record, blackness isn’t determined by how you choose to wear your hair or how light or dark your skin is. Remember that.

    Welp, this is the end of our tour. You wanna know anything else? Google is 100% free. As always, stay off of my blog with the bs, love yourself, and spread love and positivity :) Don’t choose to be ignorant just because it is a trend.

    anonymous asked:

    shiratorizawa's reaction to being woken up at 3 am by their s/o sending them memes pls ?? thx

    this is it everyone. i was put on this earth a little more than 23 years ago to fill this exact request with the expansive knowledge of memes i’ve collected in my spare time since the dawn of memeing, from when it was just a niche subculture coming from the cesspool of Actual Flaming Shit that is 4chan to modern-day popular usage. i even went ahead and gave each one a specific meme to help me out.

    i’m going with shiratorizawa starters + semi again. tendou’s ties-in with this headcanon post about him.


    Ushijima

    The meme you send him: Look at all those chickens! accompanied with the message “Me, showing off you and the rest of the volleyball team”

    He doesn’t understand this at all. Those aren’t chickens, those are geese. Shiratorizawa has nothing to do with geese. Perhaps you’re just confused because it’s late at night and you should be asleep. He answers back simply, “Please do not think of me or anyone else on the team as chicken or geese. Goodnight.” He doesn’t bring it up in the morning.

    Semi

    The meme you send him: you just send him a text that says, “The Game”

    It takes him a while to register the text between being sleepy and the vagueness of it. But then he remembers and he just about tosses his phone across the room. Really?! People are still playing that?! What year is it?! At least you lost too, because you had to have thought about it to text it to him. He’s a grump in the morning when he sees you.

    Reon

    The meme you send him: Reasons to Live Pepe but with his face photoshopped into the book in the second panel

    At first he’s worried that you’re texting him at such a late hour and he’s ready to come to your rescue, but when he opens the text, his fear subsides. He’s very flattered that you feel that way, but the frog-man thing is somewhat… disturbing. (C’mon, Reon, Pepe can be cute at times! just not this Pepe.) Not to mention, you both really should be sleeping. In the morning he gently suggests, that in the future, to not meme too hard past midnight.

    Tendou

    The meme you send him: You rapid fire text him “Je suis un Ananas” about 30 times (from this video)

    Given that does this to you ALL THE TIME already, it was only a matter of time before you started doing it to him. He should have known better. Now you’ve challenged him to the Ultimate Meme-Off and he has no choice but to scour the internet for the finest vintage memes—we’re talking memes such as the “The Kitty Cat Dance”—because he knows your comebacks will mostly be very obscure or specific ones from the Modern Era of Memes. It is on like Dankey Kang. He can sleep when he’s dead.

    Goshiki

    The meme you send him: this and various other memes involving “I LOVE YOU” being shouted via caps lock

    He forgot to turn down the volume on his phone before going to bed so his text alert going off nearly gives him a heart attack. He gets really flustered from the memes, so much that he has to cover his face with his hands and lie back down because you’re killing him! He doesn’t even care that you woke him up in the middle of the night. This is the best night ever! He can’t wait to see you in morning.

    Shirabu

    The meme you send him: First you send him the message, “Get ready to have your mind blown” and then proceed to send him rapid-fire Troll Physics comics (example)

    He lets out a very resigned sigh because he knows exactly what you’re up to, just not what flavor it’ll be this time. He reads the comics—yes, all of them—that you send and for a minuscule moment he considers sending you the actual math and science behind why they’re wrong. Except that’s the point. He shuts off his text tone for the rest of the night and doesn’t say a word about it in the morning.

    Kawanishi

    The meme you send him: Instagram quote rebuttals / hipster edits (example)

    He squints his eyes at the brightness of his screen and it takes him a while to process what you’ve actually sent him. When it finally registers that you sent him a meme of all things (he was expecting something a little sexier given the late hour), he rolls his eyes and sends back a “Go to bed, you meme-loving fuck” before going back to sleep himself. At least it was one you both have jokes about and made your own versions of. He finds a few on his phone during breakfast to show you.

    Yamagata

    The meme you send him: Spongebob but with Alfonso Riberio’s face… you know the one

    The text startles him awake, but he’s slow to look at his phone. He stares at it for a while, expecting something to happen as if it were a GIF or even a jump scare. It’s neither, thankfully, especially the latter. He doesn’t understand this and actually calls you to ask you what this means. Are you being cryptic? Even when you tell him it’s just supposed to be a silly picture, he still doesn’t understand. Poor guy will never understand your weird humor.

    The murder of Marilyn Monroe

    Part I: Setting the Scene

    Marilyn was found dead in the early hours of August 5, 1962, facedown and nude, of an apparent barbiturate overdose.

    There were some real problems with that story, though.

    At the time of her autopsy, Marilyn had enough barbituates in her blood that equaled 17-18 Chloral Hydrate and roughly 60-70 Nembutal capsules and a “marked” discoloration in her colon. Most importantly though, she only had .3 ccs of liquid in her stomach, and no drinking glass was found anywhere in the bedroom. She was also having renovations done at the time, so the water was shut off in the en suite bathroom. If she had locked herself in the room with no water, how does someone ingest that many pills without water?

    Spoiler alert! They don’t. They were murdered.

    So now we must Benson & Stabler this bitch and investigate the facts.

    Putting this under the cut since it’s kind of long and also considered off-blog topic, but let’s try some new things!

    Keep reading

    4

    okay but FREED JUSTINE WITH A BUN
    [does this even make sense]

    it started out as a doodle but you can’t just expect me to draw something happening in a forest and not make it with full background. it’s way too fun to draw.