outwards

OTP Prompt

The night air is damp but warm, and dew has settled on the soft unkempt grass underfoot. Laughter rides the gentle span of an air current, carried by the ambiance of the meadow and the hushed undertones of an owl hooting in the distance.

A spins in a lazy circle, lead by the guiding hand of B. They engage in a slow dance, gliding aimlessly but with intentional movements across the even ground; the blades of dark green grass tickling the soles of their feet and toes.

B takes a step back, arm outstretched, then pulls A back in. Around, around. Outward, inward. Together, and apart. The fluidity of their motions creates a graceful illusion underneath the glow of the waxing moon. The illusion breaks as A slips on the slick ground, falling into B’s arms, and knocking the two of them to the ground.

A rolls off of B, laying with their back on the ground, staring at the sky. The clouds are faint wisps, almost imperceptible, save for a faint glimmer in the distance. The stars appear clear and bright, unpolluted by the light of cities.

“I remember a quote… When life knocks you down, roll over and look at the stars.” A smiles, and closes their eyes. 

pervyfoxy  asked:

So what are your thoughts on Blizzard adding in an Overwatch skin that promotes Police Brutality?

My thoughts are I barely know what Overwatch is, I only play video games that have an Italian plumber in them, and I’ve given no outwards indication that I do anything otherwise or that I am in touch with the gaming industry in any meaningful fashion, so why are you asking ME this?

these winter days of growing light,
longitudes of time stretching outwards,
cold piling up against the windows,
a tapping rain song on the roof.
here, your mother braided flowers
into your hair, elderberry and lilac,
pressed chamomile to your eyes
to soothe the sting. you remember
her hands, the over and under,
the thin parts of you slipping through
her fingers. how skin feels against bone,
a hollow & silent slide down into nothing.
—  rainsong || a.s.w.

anonymous asked:

Okay, I have to strongly disagree with your claim that loosely thrown about autistic headcanons "hurt no one". The reason why I criticize sloppily formed autistic headcanons is that the vast majority of them is based on taking inaccurate stereotypes about autism and projecting them onto anyone and anything that shows a vague idea of it for even one episode, or disregarding tact altogether and making them a walking stereotype. I can't be the only person who finds that insulting and offensive.

There are autistic people who match some of the stereotypes used to make fun of it or get it all wrong. 

The thing with non-autistic people who do that (and it bugs me when they do although I don’t attack them for it, I scroll by), is they don’t understand the internal nuances for why autistic people behave the way we do, so they pull on the surface stereotypes of outward behavior.

Autistic people who fit some or all stereotypes more or less understand those internal nuances for why certain stims and brain farts happen when / where they do. Even if they don’t get it in words, there’s that inherent understanding that someone who isn’t autistic isn’t going to get.

Hollywood autism portrayals do far more damage than autistic headcanons ever will. Just look what Hollywood did to mental illness and look at the stigma attached to it. Autistic headcanons by autistic people have nothing on that.

The rest of what I have to say can be summed up in my answer to the other anon over here: http://butterflyinthewell.tumblr.com/post/160128740133/in-the-same-way-that-an-author-can-be-tactless-and

The Nightmare Arc: VIII

Or: Illapa Proposes To A Girl And She Explodes


Flicker.

Something almost like a ripple emanated outward from Solarine’s ascended form at Illapa’s near-dying words, spoken in a blood-choked baritone that seemed so small, so quiet in the vastness of the expanding cosmos of her Nightmare.

The shuddering flicker that wracked that beautiful, terrible form caused her to gasp aloud, the first verbal sound she had made since their arrival in that place, and her fathomless eyes snapped open as she turned her face toward the constellation that shone so bright and so pure against the crimson backdrop that had clouded the once-beautiful vastness of open space.

That same crimson death still swirled about, even as a faint and familiar golden light tried so very hard to shine out from where her pupils had once been.

“S–” she whispered into the stars. “Save me.”

A few moments of endless silence passed, the tension in the air palpable, and then a note began to sing out through the blood-tinged darkness.

A hymn.

Solarine’s eyes remained wide open as she stared up into the sky, a ball of starlight still held in the palm of her hand, and the first resonance vibrations since Illapa had fallen and broken began to ring through the cold obsidian that now cradled his battered form.

It was a single, pure tone this time, resonating in every perfect octave at once, and it was the sound one heard when a single hair-cell inside the ear sang out its dying tone, slowly vibrating itself until it finally, inevitably, and permanently died.

Louder

and

LOUDER

and

LOUDER

it rang as the obsidian platform groaned and shuddered in the awful single-mindedness of that ceaseless, relentless hymn to the fabric of creation. Surely, Illapa was expecting a painful, merciless death, just as the angel had promised him, as his bruised and battered flesh bore the oscillations of the platform he lay upon as it neared the point where it would shatter just as he surely would.

CRACK.

A single sound like the breaking of a piece of china echoed harshly, followed by a hundred more, and in an instant, Solarine exploded into ten thousand shards of pure, radiant light and tattered feathers, a blindingly radiant flash like radioactive material reaching criticality as it destroyed itself and everything around it.

Or, perhaps, only the part of the obsidian platform that had been encased, at the very last half-second, in a glowing, domed barrier.

He still heard that piercing tone even after it reached its deadly crescendo and shattered Solarine’s ascendant form into ten thousand radiant shards. It rang in his ears as tattered feathers fell like burning snow around him, their light dying.

He thought he would never hear anything else again. He thought he would never see anything else but that final image of her burned into his retinas, the way she flew apart into shards of light. An instant in time scarred into his eyes before the glowing barrier sprang up to contain her destructive final moment.

Perhaps the resonance had done something to his brain, as well. He thought he should feel more than this leaden numbness.

He couldn’t hear the Scion. Couldn’t hear the song. Couldn’t hear the way his own voice screamed and screamed and screamed inside his head.

With a final burst of effort, he managed to roll himself onto his stomach, and immediately vomited a gout of bright blood onto the scarred obsidian surface. He crawled on his belly through the blood and mangled feathers, one arm hoisting the rest of his dead weight along inch by painstaking inch.

A familiar soft, mournful sob drifted across the platform after a long, terrible silence punctuated only by the sound of Illapa vomiting into the feathers and debris that littered its surface.

This, though, was no echo, not like those that had guided them through the nightmare house in search of Solarine.

It was her.

A gasp of painfully-drawn breath, and then another lurching, chest-wracking sob. She was there, buried somewhere in the center of a pile of charred feathers, shards of porcelain-like material that looked like the skin of her illusory form, and chips and dust made of sparkling black obsidian that glinted with all the colours reflecting down from the stars above – except crimson. Instead, a faint and gentle verdant glow bathed them as a certain constellation twinkled in the endless night of the void.

All things considered, crawling through a field of broken glass was easy compared everything that came before.

He inched through the sparkling grains of black glass that emulated the starry sky above, dragging a bloody furrow in his wake. He clumsily swept away bits of tattered feathers and shards of shattered porcelain, until finally, finally, his unsteady hand found soft ivory flesh.

He didn’t have the strength to rise, let alone hold her, so he found her lap and rested there – finally, finally. His body was heavy with the lassitude of her penultimate lullaby-song, the one that had nearly sung him to his rest.

Rest. Rest sounded good. The fingers that sought her hand glittered with obsidian dust, adhered to his skin by a sheen of sticky blood. “It’s alright,” he soothed, despite the fact that he was terribly close to dying in her arms. “Sshh, love. It’s alright.” He remembered the backlash of his own failed ascendancy, the strange wellspring of grief and loss and horror. “Ssshh. It’s alright.”

Soothing nothings, nonsense noise. There was little else to say.

NAME OF YOUR MUSE: Dr. Branden Schaedler
ONE PICTURE YOU LIKE BEST OF YOUR MUSE’S FC:

TWO HEADCANONS YOU HAVE FOR YOUR MUSE THAT YOU NEVER TOLD ANYONE:

  • Branden has a collection of photographs that are hidden away in one of his journals. The photographs are of everyone he has ever cared about. Pictures of his favorite beloved teachers, family that never pushed him away. A few of Plumeria and his children. Memories that all bring him happiness when he is sad. There are photographs of Guzma as well. He is terrified that he may one day start to slip away and begin to lose his memory or his sanity. These images keep him safe.
  • Branden is far more self conscious of his outward appearance than he lets on. A mixture of scars and being underweight, he fears that he is not attractive enough to keep his lover’s attention in a long term relationship. Because of this, Branden prefers their intimate moments to be in mostly dark environments.

THREE THINGS THAT YOUR MUSE LIKES DOING IN THEIR FREE TIME:

  • Weaving flower crowns with his cousin, Todd. They will make crowns or leis that specifically help with medical ailments. Branden’s Comfey are known to assist. Every now and then Plumeria is known to visit with him, joining in on the activity.
  • Reading. Branden will read while curled up in the shade near the pond that was made in the backyard of his Apothecary. From time to time he can be caught reading children’s books to the Goomies that live in the pond.
  • Meditation. With how much energy he normally has within his mind, headaches and migraines are bound to happen. To counteract this, he will frequently meditate alongside his Pokemon, ensuring the bond and psychic link between them remains strong.

SEVEN PEOPLE THAT YOUR MUSE LOVES/LIKES:

  • Guzma Hoapili [ bigcalavera ]
  • Lillie Schaedler [alolan-traveler-lillie ]
  • Plumeria Keawe [tender–age–in–plume ]
  • Dosh’te Croft [curiousobjecthead ]
  • Loch [gruntadminloch ]
  • Weiss Schnee [taubchen ]
  • Cassie & Red [lunahaule & notquitethelegend ]

TWO THINGS YOUR MUSE REGRETS:

  • Not admitting to his lover how he felt about him sooner. He feels that he could have prevented a lot of stress and pain had he opened up sooner than later.
  • Not leaving Aether when he had the opportunity to. After waiting long enough for Lillie and Gladion to run away, it became apparent that he was heavily influenced by the torture that Lusamine put him through. At that point, he was far too invested in taking her down to worry about his own mental health.

A PHOBIA YOUR MUSE HAS:

  • AthazagoraphobiaFear of Being Forgotten

TAGGED BY: This popped up frequently on my dash.

TAGGING: Anyone who wants it.

2

Comparison gifs for my @gemanimate hand shot! I decided to focus on the gems for both symbolic and artistic reasons. This meant changes like darkening the bg while brightening the gem colours, making sparkly gem animation against the slow-moving fireflies, and slightly turning the hands outwards for a better angle of the gems. Admittedly I ended up sacrificing some narrative clarity for this scene, but that’s what happens with artistic interpretation: sometimes you’ll have to compromise one element, but only so you can concentrate on another.

Viktor’s already overlarge heart grows ten sizes when they get back to Japan after Barcelona. Yuuri thought that maybe, maybe he would return from Barcelona with a gold medal. What he does have is something gold and round, just not in the expected form.

“Would you like to see my medal?” Yuuri asks his parents, shyly, and they enthusiastically agree. They sit down in the dining room where the light is best, and Yuuri puts the medal in the middle of the table to let his family ooh and ahh. Hiroko traces the words Grand Prix of Figure Skating Final Men’s. 

“Mama, Papa,” Yuuri says after awhile, and grips Viktor’s hand hard under the table. “I–we have something else to tell you.”

Hiroko and Toshiya turn their kind faces towards their son, open and welcoming.

“Viktor and I…have decided to get married.” Yuuri’s hand tightens almost painfully. Viktor soothes his thumb over his knuckles and feels the affection and adoration pool in his heart. “And also we’re…we’re going to move to Russia.”

“For a few years,” Viktor adds quickly..“For a few years, but we’ll visit, and once we both retire…” He imagines returning to this place, coming back to these people and their unspoken support and affection that swirls like a warm breeze. Bringing back to them their son, older and wiser and accomplished, a champion. His husband. He clears his throat. “I’m getting ahead of myself, but it’s–not permanent, you see?”

“Would you like to see my engagement ring?” Yuuri asks, perhaps just to soften the blow, and Hiroko nods happily, holding out small and work-marked hands.

Viktor watches the way Yuuri reveals his ring; slowly, blushingly, like it’s a secret he is sharing. The feeling of his own engagement ring is present, happily unfamiliar.

“The right hand?” Hiroko muses happily, as she examines Yuuri’s hand.

“In my country, we wear them on the right hand,” Viktor says softly. “It’s, um…important to me.”

“May I?” asks Toshiya, who’s noticed that Viktor wears a ring as well. Viktor holds his hand out and Toshiya stares at it for a moment, considering, then pats his hand. 

“Since Yuuri was born, we’ve only wanted for him what would make him happiest,” Toshiya says after a moment, the emotion thick in his voice. It’s the first such outward display of emotion Viktor has seen from him. The elder Katsukis go about their lives in a sort of genial cloud, despite raising an incredibly emotional son. Viktor suspects it’s because they made a point never to judge him for the emotions they, themselves, may have been taught to keep inside. “Both of our children, we’ve told them to follow their dreams. To seek out their best lives. When you came to him, to us, it was as though…you were delivering his happiness to him. He’s grown so much with you. There is no one I would rather him marry, and no one I would rather accept as my son. And if it is important to my sons, for them to go to Russia, I would carry you there myself if I had to.”

Yuuri cries, as Yuuri does. He cries until they crawl into bed that night and Viktor holds him so close he can feel his heartbeat.

“I’m just so happy,” Yuuri whispers into his shoulder. “I never thought I would be this happy, Vitya.”

Viktor kisses his head and whispers, “Me too.”

Viktor doesn’t think he knew was happy truly was until these people defined it for him. If that’s so, he’s glad his heart waited. 

Ten staples that every woman needs in her closet

1. A vast empty hooded cape that you can control with the power of your mind, sending it forth from you to terrify and amaze.

2. A dress that can be whipped off by a bare-chested dancer to reveal another, more sparkly dress underneath, for those occasions when you accidentally find yourself in the Eurovision Song Contest.

3. A formal grappling-hook, for arriving at all the best parties. Make sure to have yours personalised, so that you do not arrive at the party via the same grappling hook as another attendee.

4. A khaki tank top. That is, just the swivelly bit with the gun on. The caterpillar tracks bit is probably too big for a closet but can be stored in a shed or garage until it is needed.

5. A leather jacket tanned from the tattooed hide of the last bull to cross you, as a reminder to other bulls that you will be crossing this field now, thank you very much.

6. Pumps. You will thank me for this recommendation when your boat starts to fill with water. Using buckets to bail is just tedious and may require more crew members than are left after the mutiny.

7. Pencil skirt. Never forget, wear with the pencils facing outwards. Inwards is super-uncomfortable and much less helpful in getting personal space on metro systems.

8. A dragon-proof cardigan.

9. Trousers that can be worn by a horse, in case you should meet a horse that wants trousers or that curse ever comes to fruition.

10. A good book with a light attached, so that on bad days you can just get into the closet and read without having to bother about all that clothes stuff. Make sure not to sit on the pencil skirt.

Note taking tips

Notebook for each class. 

Have a separate notebook for each class. It keeps things organized. Plus, if you keep all of your classes’ notes in the same notebook and you lose that notebook, you’re pretty much SOL. Write clearly. If you’re going to handwrite your notes, make sure you can read them later. PenMANship. It’s got the word “man” in it, so it’s manly. Let go of perfectionism The purpose of note-taking is simple: to help you study better and more quickly. First, what’s new to you? There’s no point in writing down facts you already know. If you already know the Declaration of Independence was written and signed in 1776, there’s no reason to write that down. Anything you know you know you can leave out of your notes. Second, what’s relevant? What information is most likely to be of use later, whether on a test, in an essay, or in completing a project? Focus on points that directly relate to or illustrate your reading (which means you’ll have to have actually done the reading…). The kinds of information to pay special attention to are: 

* Dates of events: Dates allow you to 

  • a) create a chronology, putting things in order according to when they happened, and
  • b) understand the context of an event. For instance, knowing Isaac Newton was born in 1643 allows you to situate his work in relation to that of other physicists who came before and after him, as well as in relation to other trends of the 17th century.

 * Names of people: Being able to associate names with key ideas also helps remember ideas better and, when names come up again, to recognize ties between different ideas whether proposed by the same individuals or by people related in some way.

 * Theories: Any statement of a theory should be recorded — theories are the main points of most classes. 

* Definitions: Like theories, these are the main points and, unless you are positive you already know the definition of a term, should be written down. Keep in mind that many fields use everyday words in ways that are unfamiliar to us. 

 * Arguments and debates: Any list of pros and cons, any critique of a key idea, both sides of any debate related in class or your reading should be recorded. This is the stuff that advancement in every discipline emerges from, and will help you understand both how ideas have changed (and why) but also the process of thought and development within the particular discipline you are studying. 

* Images and exercises: Whenever an image is used to illustrate a point, or when an in-class exercise is performed, a few words are in order to record the experience. Obviously it’s overkill to describe every tiny detail, but a short description of a painting or a short statement about what the class did should be enough to remind you and help reconstruct the experience. 

 * Other stuff: Just about anything a professor writes on a board should probably be written down, unless it’s either self-evident or something you already know. Titles of books, movies, TV series, and other media are usually useful, though they may be irrelevant to the topic at hand; I usually put this sort of stuff in the margin to look up later (it’s often useful for research papers, for example). Pay attention to other student’s comments, too — try to capture at least the gist of comments that add to your understanding. 

* Your own questions: Make sure to record your own questions about the material as they occur to you. This will help you remember to ask the professor or look something up later, as well as prompt you to think through the gaps in your understanding. 

* Note-Taking Techniques: You don’t have to be super-fancy in your note-taking to be effective, but there are a few techniques that seem to work best for most people.

* Outlining: Whether you use Roman numerals or bullet points, outlining is an effective way to capture the hierarchical relationships between ideas and data. In a history class, you might write the name of an important leader, and under it the key events that he or she was involved in. Under each of them, a short description. And so on. Outlining is a great way to take notes from books, because the author has usually organized the material in a fairly effective way, and you can go from start to end of a chapter and simply reproduce that structure in your notes.For lectures, however, outlining has limitations. The relationship between ideas isn’t always hierarchical, and the instructor might jump around a lot. A point later in the lecture might relate better to information earlier in the lecture, leaving you to either 

  • a) flip back and forth to find where the information goes best (and hope there’s still room to write it in) 
  • b) risk losing the relationship between what the professor just said and what she said before. 
 

* Mind-mapping: For lectures, a mind-map might be a more appropriate way of keeping track of the relationships between ideas. Here’s the idea: in the center of a blank sheet of paper, you write the lecture’s main topic. As new sub-topics are introduced (the kind of thing you’d create a new heading for in an outline), you draw a branch outward from the center and write the sub-topic along the branch. Then each point under that heading gets its own, smaller branch off the main one. When another new sub-topic is mentioned, you draw a new main branch from the center. And so on. The thing is, if a point should go under the first heading but you’re on the fourth heading, you can easily just draw it in on the first branch. Likewise, if a point connects to two different ideas, you can connect it to two different branches. If you want to neaten things up later, you can re-draw the map or type it up 

 * The Cornell System: The Cornell System is a simple but powerful system for increasing your recall and the usefulness of your notes. About a quarter of the way from the bottom of a sheet of paper, draw a line across the width of the page. Draw another line from that line to the top, about 2 inches (5 cm) from the right-hand edge of the sheet. You’ve divided your page into three sections. In the largest section, you take notes normally — you can outline or mind-map or whatever. After the lecture, write a series of “cues” into the skinny column on the right, questions about the material you’ve just taken notes on. This will help you process the information from the lecture or reading, as well as providing a handy study tool when exams come along: simply cover the main section and try to answer the questions. In the bottom section, you write a short, 2-3 line summary in your own words of the material you’ve covered. Again, this helps you process the information by forcing you to use it in a new way; it also provides a useful reference when you’re trying to find something in your notes later. Charting Method If your professor’s lecture will be focused on comparing and contrasting two or more ideas, you might consider using the charting method. Create a table in the note-taking program you’re using. Make as many columns as there are categories that you’re comparing and contrasting. Label each column with a category. As you listen to the lecture, record the notes under the appropriate category.

Why I Love Connor Murphy (and why his character isn’t an innocent one)

Hello y’all, I’ve seen Too Much discourse in the DEH fandom recently on the part of people liking Connor and not liking Alana and Zoe enough, so here’s some of my thoughts on the matter (in no perfectly organized order) as well as some headcanons that I have which are supported by evidence in the show.

Connor Murphy was clearly a deeply fucked up kid. Signs of different mental illnesses should have been abundantly clear to his parents from the get-go, but they obviously weren’t (outward violent aggression towards teachers, isolation of himself from other peers, etc.) Connor was clearly crying for help in the only way that he could, through violence, and it’s clear that his dad was resistant to putting him into therapy. Then, (I’m assuming in middle school/early high school) he got into hard drugs (which ones we’re never explicitly told) and attempted suicide. Finally, after that, he goes to rehab, but the ride isn’t over yet. 

Zoe mentions him banging on her door threatening to kill her for ‘no reason.’ so we can assume some things.

1. Connor was either high or mid-manic episode.
2. He did not have full control of his actions.

This, of course, could never excuse abusive behavior, but it does explain it and gives room for us to assume that this was before rehab. After rehab, he comes back to school, and I’m going to assume that though he had gotten better, he wasn’t quite good enough. He started self medicating with pot and other less harmful/addictive drugs (”I don’t want you going to school high, Connor.” the way this line is delivered makes me assume that Mrs. Murphy knows Connor smokes pot and cares but only in the context of school.) to try and calm his depression/bipolar/psychotic NOS (I believe he was schizophrenic.)

Connor Murphy was not excusable in his actions, but I love him because he was a tragic character who reminds me of myself. And besides, none of the characters in this show are perfect.

Now, getting to Connor’s mental state during the week that he killed himself:

Very up and down, we see him being nice to Evan (signing his cast, laughing with him, etc.) in one scene, but in the next he sees Zoe’s name and instantly becomes extremely paranoid/panicked because he thinks that Evan is out to get him. He’s constantly worried about being labeled a “freak” (due to constant bullying from almost everyone.) And he keeps the note for two days in his pocket (not at school) and kills himself with it still there. 

Connor Murphy was mentally ill and his mom was the only one who gave very much of a shit about it (Zoe did too, I think, but she didn’t know how to deal with it.) and that’s all, Connor Murphy deserves our love not because he was a good or nice character, but because he had the potential to be. 

I mean, imagine if he had been properly rehabilitated and continued therapy? 

Inward-Outward

aries - masculine -  excited by activity, movement, and colour

taurus - feminine -  retreating into a bungalow of stability 

gemini - masculine - activated by conversation, learning, and social responsiveness

cancer - feminine - crawls back into a moon bed of safety to remember

leo - masculine - awakens the creative expression through marvellous dramatized display

virgo -  feminine - serves from the shadows, guarded and internalized

libra - masculine - recognises the importance, social activity, and projection 

scorpio - feminine - descends into the hidden 

sagittarius - masculine - voyages through the world searching for the disguises of god 

capricorn - feminine - turns inward to cope with the pressure the world has forced upon them

aquarius - masculine - speaks to the collective on behalf of heaven 

pisces - feminine - isolates themselves on an island of escapism for the sake of survival

every single time i see a naked anime woman i grow 1.5x bigger than i normally am and i start doing a tornado motion with my fists extended outwards and start knocking over everything in my room with the power of a sun imbued into my fists

SKAM 4.03 Clip 1 - Inshallah

[ELIAS: What’s that, bro? What are you doing?
YOUSEF: Throw it to me, throw it to me, throw it to me!]
SANA: Hello.
MOM: Hi, honey.
[The guys talking over each other]
SANA: Where’s dad?
MOM: At La Mocca.
MUTASIM: Let’s kick the ball, play with our feet.
MOM: There were a lot of people asking for you at the Friday prayer.
SANA: Oh yeah, uh, I was supposed to go, but I couldn’t make it.
MOM: No. But it’s been a while?
SANA: It’s not been that long. Why don’t you ever say that to Elias? He’s never at Friday prayers.
MOM: No, well… Elias is just as ditzy as your father. While the two of us, we’re more focused. Don’t you agree?
SANA: I’ll be there next Friday.
MOM: We’re going to Mahmoud’s wedding next Friday. Do you wanna come?
SANA: No, thank you. I think I’ll pass.
MOM: So what did you do yesterday?
SANA: Yesterday?
MOM: Mhmm.
SANA: I just hung out with Noora and Eva and them. But do you need any help cooking?
MOM: You want to help me cook?
SANA: No, not really.
MOM: No, not really? Honestly, what are you gonna do when you get married? Are you going to let your children starve?
SANA: No. My husband is gonna cook.
MOM: Your husband is gonna cook. Huh. Insha’allah.
MOM: (answers phone) Hello? Hi.
[Switches the radio from the news to music]
YOUSEF: Hi.
SANA: Hi!
YOUSEF: I’m just getting something to drink.
[Switches the channel on the radio again]
YOUSEF: Do you need any help?
SANA: Huh? No.
YOUSEF: Listen.. I don’t want to be rude, but you’re doing it all wrong. Like.. Totally wrong.
SANA: Alright?
YOUSEF: Should I show you?
SANA: Okay..
YOUSEF: You have to drag it towards yourself, not push it away, okay? Because then you don’t have control over the carrot. Drag it towards yourself. Then you turn it over and do the other side.

Keep reading