the world was smaller

You know what I don’t understand? Girls who think they are too big to sit in your lap. 

Look, I know I’m short. I know that for all your experience with cis dudes, I seem kinda small I get that. But like…have you ever had a girl sit in your lap? Because it’s the best thing in the world. and it doesn’t matter how much shorter or smaller than her you are. it’s ALWAYS good. 

@ all girls of all sizes: you are NOT going to crush me. I am not going to be uncomfortable. Please, by all means, sit in my lap. 

Fic request: Negan saves a female reader from drowning. And stuff is fluffy and sweet.

Rated: T

This is it, you thought, the water pulling you in. The joys, the agony, everything was rolled into one bittersweet feeling as you struggled. Your hands tried to reach to grab anything. The walkers you were fighting got caught up with you. You couldn’t see their heads anymore.

On shore the battle still was being waged, the world growing smaller and everything along with it. No good byes. Nothing. Your ties to The Sanctuary were slim to none. But there was something about you. Something that made you stand up and fight for your people.

You remembered that silhouette, that beacon of fear, of hope. He stood above everyone, his beloved baseball bat at his side.

Frightening, comforting, you weren’t sure what to make of him but you were always intrigued. You were there from the start, seeing him first come across your group until he rose to being the leader he was today. Your group growing in size until you finally had a name, until he had a philosophy and you were all Negan.

You wondered as you’d walk the corridors doing your shift if you’d run into him. If his eyes would meet with yours but he was busy. The man was always needed somewhere.

Somehow now the impossible was happening, he came into full focus as you panicked. He was grinning wildly, swimming towards you.

“Hey. You. You made me leave Lucille back there. What the fuck,” he laughed.

Maybe you would have laughed too if you weren’t trying to breathe. All of a sudden the stress was too much for your body. Your frantic movements just weren’t getting you anywhere. You barely knew how to swim, you learned just enough as a kid and even then it was one of your biggest fears.

He really tried to get to you before your limbs gave up. The rush of the water taking you away from him. It was hard to describe what you were feeling now, it was probably somewhere within the realm of acceptance. Any doubts you had in your mind about Negan were gone now. He meant well. He really did. There was no other reason for him to save you, he probably didn’t even know your name, much less remember you being around since the start.

You accepted the world taking you back into its arms. No need to fight now.

You breathed in the water, you gagged, one final reflex coming from your body even though your heart had accepted the inevitable.

He caught up to you, grabbing your wrist with the intent of never letting go. Holding on for dear life he shielded you from some of the bigger rocks and branches you nearly hit. Up ahead there was a tree that had fallen over, he saw this opportunity and the both of you finally came to a stop.

There were moans and it was clear you weren’t alone. It looked like the tree had been acting like a dam, holding back most of the walkers from reaching the end of the river. One of the walkers made a grab for you its teeth trying to gnash at your flesh.

Negan had to think fast. He needed to give you on land and now wasn’t the time to struggle with some walker. He pulled his knife out of his belt and stabbed it in the head. And then from the corner of his eye, another walker coming down the stream was in a collision course with the both of you. He couldn’t risk that so he let go washing you two away. Eventually reaching the end of the river, Negan was completely exhausted and wiped out.

The walker caught up at the end. Negan got to his feet, the walker, was crawling towards him with both of it’s decomposed legs broken off. He put it out of its misery. Then quickly tended to you, gently he tilted your head back, opening your mouth carefully, then followed the next series of steps he could roughly remember.

Did he do it right? His mind was racing.

And all of a sudden you were back. Pain, and everything else that came with it hit you like a sledgehammer, a complete sensory overload. You were still in the water but you were conscious now, the rocks that grazed you when you went down the river left you battered and bruised. But more importantly than that you were breathing. Negan had you in his arms, his eyes scanning you with concern before there was a boyish twinkle in his eyes.

“Well hey there y/n,” he smiled, flashing his pearly whites for all to see. “Okay we’re not quite out of the woods yet, literally,” he laughed to himself at how great his pun was.

You were in the woods. You blinked a couple of times for everything to come into full view.

“W-what,” your lashes fluttered, your chest rising and falling as you tried to make sense of everywhere. Was this a dream or—

He placed his hand on your cheek, breathing out a sigh of relief.

“Right then. You’re a girl of few words. I’m gonna give you the run down here, sweetie. It looks like you’re all in one piece but you aren’t standing yet, so let’s get you standing. You think you can do it?”

“Where’s everybody?”

“Who the fuck knows. Hopefully not dead right? Then we’d be screwed,” he laughed heartily. He got you by your hand and swung your arm around his shoulder. He steadied you, pulling you up by the waist and back onto your feet. Luckily you were okay, dizzy, tired, beat up but okay.

“How are you,” you asked, your eyes searching for his as you took one careful step after another.

He looked legitimately surprised, “I’m okay. My leather jacket pulled through. I’m a little lost without Lucille, but hell, I am a little too attached to her.”

You laughed and he smirked, “Sorry for laughing.”

“That’s fine. It’s good to laugh at shit. What else can you do? Cry all the god damned time? Won’t do you a world of good and you’ll probably end up dehydrated as fuck.”

“That’s true.”

There was some silence between the both of you as you walked together following alongside the river. You could see the gears turning in his head, eventually he spoke.

“Why’d you never talk to me?”

“What,” you were confused. This guy practically asked people to treat him like a god but here he was asking you an honest question, almost like he was any other person who’d walk the earth. There was a bit of vulnerability in that. You could be honest, you could give him the real answer. But you couldn’t.

“My men would offer you positions and you’d always turn them down. Why?”

“I don’t know. I’m a bit of a loner.”

“You like to disappear. I notice that. That’s useful,” Negan nodded.

“That’s perceptive of you,” that was your way of admitting defeat. At least he wasn’t ignoring you. He was just giving you your space and some part of you respected that.

“When we get back and have the doctor look over you, we’ll think of how you’ll fit in to my circle of people. With enough thinking we can figure something out.”

“Oh,” you were hurt. Something about him remembering your name gave you a glimmer of hope that maybe he saw you as a person but now you were feeling like you were just another game piece to the war he was fighting.

“I saw you out there fighting those walkers. You’re skilled and capable. We’ll just keep you from water, that’s easy enough right,” he laughed, but you weren’t playing along. “Y/n, what did I say?”

“Is that why you saved me,” you asked.

“Are you fucking serious? You think I’m that much of a sociopath? You’re really special. You were there since the very start. I can’t lose my good luck charm. The world would be a pretty shitty place without you in it.”

“Really,” you smiled, dropping your head down.

“Well shit. If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were blushing,” he teased.

“I’m not.”

“I gotta admit I’m feeling something. C’mere,” he sauntered closer to you, bridging what little gap that was left between you two.

“I’m covered in mud,” you smirked, looking away.

“No big deal. Me too,” he pulled you closer and kissed you.

That Negan, what a charmer.

Aries —
oh, my sweet, sweet child, what has the world done to you? you were a bright promise,
the tomorrow we had hoped for, holding flowers in your mouth without crushing them
and trusting blindly in those around you. and then came the blood; and now your fire
is a quiet thing, a crackling murmur hidden in the shadows. you’ve curled into yourself
like a newborn babe, held your heart tightly to your chest and began the tedious healing.
and all the salt in your tears made the deep wounds sting; was it this what kept you pure?
I wonder, oh, I wonder. before you, I had never seen an anathema so full of innocence.
(the world tried to cast you down from paradise; and it succeeded. but the fall couldn’t
maim you, for fire cannot kill fire – it simply shrunk you, much like a mimosa bloom.
I hope one day you’ll feel safe enough to flower, for there is so much beauty in you.)


Taurus —
I wish I could wrap my hands around your shoulders and hold you close for a while,
because oh, what sad things they are, your bones. I am so sorry, beloved; so very sorry.
and I am well aware these apologies cannot change anything, but I want you to know
that there is someone who sees you as you are – even when all the others see is your
superfluous frivolity and your desire for riches, I see the thoughtful mind, the gentle
gestures, each and every of your heartbeats. the song of you is imprinted into my memory
as the change in seasons is; you are unforgettable, something so precious and so very dear.
(don’t let them shame you for your greed – those who try to do so cannot wrap their
all too little minds around the fact that sin is not necessarily negative. your love for gold
has root in the same place as your love for others; you only want it so you may share it.)


Gemini —
it’s lonely, isn’t it? not being the way all others are. they tell you you’re a forgery, that your
smile is a mask and your composure an act, simply because they cannot accept the idea
that people are supposed to be multidimensional. on and on they go, pinning their ignorance
to you under the name of blame, seeing in you only that which they wish to see. sometimes,
you wish you were like them. I know you do. you shouldn’t. it might be lonely where you are,
but that doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing; lonely doesn’t mean secluded. there are others like you,
with minds like diamonds. others like you, who are only habitual in their tendency for change.
(you will find someone who can make sense out of you, one day, you know. they’ll know you
better than you yourself do – every single aspect of you, every single frantic facet and feeling.
and when you do, the wait will be more than worth it. I promise you won’t die nor live alone.)


Cancer —
you poor, poor, poor thing. it’s been a thousand years since you’ve curled into yourself, hid
your heart deep in the cradle of your ribs and let yourself sleep; then the time came for you
to awaken, and you found the world unchanged – it was as if everything had stood still.
reality swept into you like saltwater into gaping wounds, and every fiber of your soul wept.
fearful, you took the broken glass road still, walked it fully aware of what laid in waiting;
like a bride the night she is wed to a stranger, you swallowed your terror and saw it through.
often, those ignorant make you out to be such a bumbling coward. you’re not. you just aren’t.
(in fact, you’re on of the bravest people I know; it takes so much courage to let the world
see you weep – and it takes even more of it to wipe your tears and keep moving forward.
above all, it takes immense courage to allow yourself to love even when you know it’ll hurt.)


Leo —
the size of your heart puts to shame both Jupiter and your own pride and ego; to this day,
I am not sure if you would have been better off with one much smaller, but I know for sure
the world would have been emptier by far. you see, your touch is one of gold; whomever
you decide to invest your time and love into grows the size of Atlas, and so, without you
as you are now there would have been much less in the world. that is your downfall, isn’t it?
always has been. the way you’ve always put others first, giving them all of you, never asking
for anything to be given to you in return. you are a gardener, dearest, and people are your roses.
(it breaks my heart that all your selfless effort was almost always repaid in hurt and sorrow;
know that you are not to be blamed for any of it. you have done nothing wrong – sometimes,
things simply fall apart. don’t shut your heart. I’d hate to see your love rot and turn to hatred.)


Virgo —
you have endured well the contempt of others, my dear; you have taken every blow with open arms.
they have called you frigid and prude and arrogant and everything in between, but you knew better.
tell me then: if you can endure so well the slander of others, if you don’t care what they make of you,
why do you worry so? why do you see only blemishes when you look at yourself in the mirror?
your hesitance to trust others stems in your fear that if you let them in they’ll see your ugliness, all
the imagined imperfections you see in your reflection. you can’t trust others because you don’t trust
yourself; and I wish so badly that you would have a little more faith in who you are, in your beauty.
(being unable to forgive, jealousy and lust do not make you terrible. hate is human nature as much
as love is; emotions, be they bad or good, are intrinsic to mankind. you are such a passionate being,
despite your outward delicacy, and that, my dear, is simply stunning. please try to love yourself.)


Libra —
darling child, didn’t the gods tell you the mob sees dancers as something of the devil, especially
when their preferred stage is the sharp edge of a sword? few in this world love truth, and fewer still
are fond of things like righteousness and justice. your ability to remain indiscriminate in the face
of contradictory realities and deny none of them is both a blessing and a curse. your mind, I fear,
is the Pandora fate has crafted specifically for you; a beautiful gift that hides such doom and sorrow.
and you are aware of all of this – how you were meant for greater things, with your noble mind
and your true heart, yet on you dance, fighting against the windmills of adversity. how brave you are.
(know that your effort will not go without reward. know that you won’t be forever unloved, nor
will you be forever misunderstood. there will be those whom, like you, have the makings of just men,
and they will understand. keep your eyes open and search the crowd; that is what you do best.)


Scorpio —
I look at you and my heart grows small; there is so much sadness in you, from the flower
of your eyes to the slouching arch of your shoulders. you have been misjudged
and falsely accused for so long: whore, they said; monster, perverter, sickness of the soul –
and all of it because you like sex, as if somehow they are the virgin mary reborn,
the goddamn hypocrites. this, too, is something they have misunderstood; it is not sex
that you crave or are interested in. it is intimacy: it is the vulnerability that comes with having
your soul completely bared and lain before another; you crave love, in its’ purest of forms.
(and I know they have convinced you that someone of your kind is not “worthy”; fuck that.
your love is priceless, and one day someone will call your battle scars a masterpiece.
one day someone will love you as wholly as you deserve to be loved. they will love all of you.)


Sagittarius —
there is such wanderlust in you – you’ve made a home out of the long, long roads,
walked the earth to its’ ends and bathed in the oceans of the horizon; the sky was
your sole companion, its’ stars your map, the wind a spellsong to ward off the passing
sadness and melancholia that threatened to dim the flame of your heart. oh, my child;
how very wonderful you are, a barefoot nomad forever in awe of the world. the feeble
minded call you rootless; how wrong they are. having a voyager heart does not make you
afraid of commitment. it simply means your roots lie elsewhere, splat across the world.
(do not let their malice plant doubts into your mind’s garden; your gypsy heart is worth more
than all their empty ones combined. keep daring the world, sate your thirst for journeying;
only exploration can ever lead to discovery, so let your feet and head both walk the world.)


Capricorn —
good god, you’re so tired. life has worn you down to the marrow of your bones,
took everything from you until you were bare-handed; and yet.
and yet you’re still here, standing before me, your spine hardened to titanium,
a delicate thing that can withstand even the most apocalyptic of sieges;
you still find it in you to smile, bitter-bloody-all-teeth and still happy, somehow.
know that I am proud of you; of your bravery, of your resilience,
of how you’ve clung to life by the skin of your teeth. I am proud of you.
(and know that you deserve happiness – you may feel like you don’t, you may feel
that it is above the likes of you, but you deserve it; you have earned it.
know that one of these days, the sun will shine down on your lane, too.)


Aquarius —
there’s so much of you inside your skin I am often surprised it has yet to come apart at the seams;
there’s so much of everything inside your skull I am left in awe of your bones – often I wonder,
how are they strong enough to contain the exploding universe inside? my god, this world of ours
has seven wonders and you are all of them. the fortitude of your bright mind ceaselessly
surprises me; I know what to expect, and yet I am still thrown off by your ingenuity and your
ability to remain rational in your abstract ways. nobody but you is open enough to accept it all;
nobody but you can see through the prism of all eyes and walk away with their sanity intact.
(I know they call you “cold”, an ice queen of the Siberian tundra. let them be. those who cannot
see your white-hot warmth are not worthy of your brilliance. you are the brightest star, my dear,
someone accepting and embracing of it all. do not settle for anyone that is blind to your light.)


Pisces —
and how terrible it must be for you, who lives always halfway, to be stuck in a world
that demands certainties which you will never have to give. it is not to say you don’t want
to be resolute – you simply cannot. your world does not have truth, nor does it have falsity;
all that your world has are colors, swirling, forever mingling anew like the clouds in the sky.
one day you are overflowing with everything that blooms inside of you, and lilies
are spilling out of your ribs; the next, you’re empty, and you can’t for the life of you
find something that is all-encompassing enough to fill the growing abyss south of your sternum.
(know that it is okay. the most humane thing you can be is full of contradictions;
as maddening as it can be, each paradox gets you closer to the entity your peers call god.
it was never the devil that built his home on the crossroads, you know. embrace your nature.)

—  poetry for the signs: the “you’ve done well” edition, L. Schreiber
On Discourse

Someone shared with me on twitter today a really hateful ask sent to them from someone identifying as a “nerd fighter” that included racial slurs and was generally tremendously hurtful. The ask in question was anonymous, so I have no idea who sent it, but just to be clear:

That’s not okay. That doesn’t represent nerdfighteria well, and while I’m very grateful to people who like my work and like sharing it, being mean to people–attacking them with racist or hateful comments–does nothing positive for me or my work or the nerdfighter community or anyone in the world. It makes us, as a species, a little bit smaller, and a little bit worse.

We all (including me!) struggle to imagine each other complexly and generously, and to have listening-focused conversations. But the great gift of the Internet is not just the chance to share; it’s also the chance to listen. I would encourage us to find better paths to better discourse. When I’m angry or outraged or defensive (which happens all the time when I’m online), I try really hard to take a step back and to try to be empathetic rather than merely angry. I think we should try to be kind to each other, and generous toward each other. Hateful anon asks and trolling and baiting people who disagree with you accomplishes nothing in the end, except making us all feel worse about ourselves and the overall quality of discourse online. 

6

In a world both frightening and unlucky, there are a few comforts. One of them is making new friends. Friends can make you feel the world is smaller and safer than it really is, because you know people who have similar experiences. When you meet people like that, you may find your world feels a little more complete, like the missing piece of a puzzle or two halves of a broken spyglass.

anonymous asked:

The shot from Coco emphasizes scale and wonder over showcasing the specific designs. If it were that Trollhunters shot then it would seem much smaller a world and lose some of the mystery. Anyways you can't really judge one shot out of context.

It certainly does emphasize a sense of wonder

I wonder what I’m looking at

Doh HOho ho ho

It was with a warm hand on Castiel’s shoulder that Chuck watched his son die for the first time. Watched as the archangel shredded Cas under the weight and pull of angelic power. It was messy. It was callous.

Chuck wiped his blood-covered hands on his jeans, feeling the way the slick met rough—what was left of his son smeared on the denim.

Dean had come and gone and Chuck was left, sitting in the red-painted house, knowing that somewhere, his firstborn son was breaking free. Going to end the world.

Chuck sighed, grabbing a bottle of liquor from the counter and taking a deep swig. He could still see the glow in Castiel’s eyes. Not from grace, but from something perhaps more pure. Like a memory of the light once used to create the earth and all the creatures that inhabited it. The light that Chuck had given his creations straight from his own fingertips.

Cas, you beautiful idiot, he had thought as the room shook and he watched his son hold his ground, his last breaths rooted in a pearl of hope for the Earth. Hope placed in the small hands of two forgettable hunters fighting against the rising powers of hell.

The brave sacrifice of the brown-haired, blue eyed angel who died to save the world would likely never be told, but still, Chuck couldn’t help but think that it was the stuff that stories were made of.

It was quiet now, in the kitchen with the reminder of Cas, the man who’d ripped up the pages of destiny and spat in the face of fate. The man who’d scoured the earth in search for God with nothing but a second-hand pendant and a desire to protect.

Chuck closed his eyes, tightly. A desire to protect, he thought, his mind drifting back to the sense of wonder he’d felt when he’d first created his angels.

He sat down and poured a little drink on the floor in tribute before squeezing the bottle between his knees. And he tried not to remember that he had the power to protect, too. To protect the world from the impending apocalypse. To protect Castiel.

He didn’t. He wouldn’t. It was a promise he’d made a long time ago when, in an effort to “save,” he’d purged the earth with water. What surprised him, however, was how men continued to preach in his name, building philosophies and stamping them with heaven’s seal without care to God’s sanctions.

“Maybe my children make better Gods than me,” Chuck considered, finding himself again drawn to the two young brothers that, even now, were facing Michael and Lucifer when even their own God couldn’t.Dean and Sam were better men than their father, Chuck thought, and Cas was a better man than me.

Chuck stared at the way the room wore bits of Cas and wondered at the feelings of sentiment he felt. True, Chuck knew all of his angels, but he couldn’t find it in himself to understand why he felt the world was smaller now in the space since he’d watched Castiel die. After all, it was simply the natural order of things. He created angels like shooting stars: fiery, fierce and beautiful. And, like the meteoroids plowing through the sky, Cas had come too close to the earth, burning up inside the atmosphere.

Once, Chuck had commanded the angels to love the humans. The angels had become volatile, hardened creatures, made for duty with no one to serve. Statues of rigid perfection.

Chuck looked down at his own hands, letting his mind wander through the intricate designs of the human vessel he’d created for himself. Human flesh was so different than the fierce ether of an angel. He’d created them with the heads of beasts and great spanning wings. They were formidable, truly, they were. And yet, Chuck knew, even then, when he’d first birthed them, that humans were his most beautiful creation. They were breakable, small, and beautifully flawed. And, he’d known then, too, that he’d created mankind to save them all. To save the angels. To save himself.

It was his own last beacon of hope, that perhaps they could all become something more than the patterns of war and violence that had emanated from him and poured into his creations.

Chuck smiled as he looked at the Supernatural books, knowing he had found it. His broken children who had become more than their God, willing to die for the sake of the planet.

They had transcended him. He always knew they would. But, what had surprised him was the angel in the dirty trench coat and blue eyes, falling away from heaven’s glory for one man. One human. An angel that had such faith in and love for humanity that he’d given up everything.

Chuck bowed his head to his chest. He wouldn’t, he couldn’t get involved. And yet, he could still hear Castiel’s prayers in the back of his head—months of the angel’s voice crying for an absent God to step in and save his children.

And Chuck knew what he had to do. Though it wasn’t much in the grand scheme of things—a small gesture, really. But significant nonetheless.

Slowly, he leaned down to the floor, touching a spot of red with his finger. He watched as the bits of Cas responded, finding their way back to the whole. It was a fascinating process, to see the parts of Cas’s vessel come together, gathering, binding, creating arms, legs, a face. Until, suddenly, he was staring at the calm features of Cas’s body, laying down with his eyes closed, as if he could be asleep.

Then, with a breath, Chuck pulled light from the skies, infusing grace and soul and power to recreate Castiel’s true form, creating a sacred space inside the simple kitchen of Chuck’s home. It felt wrong, in a way, to bring so much of his God self back to the place where he had gone to leave it all behind. And yet, it also felt right. To put something back together again after such a long time of watching things fall apart.

And, finally, it was done as he gingerly placed Castiel back inside the man laying on the ground. He watched as the vessel’s chest hitched with the first breath of life, and smiled when he looked at the body he’d created just for Cas. For the angel who wanted so badly to love humans. In a way, now he could be one. He thought Cas would like that he’d made him look like Jimmy. That maybe he’d find it easier if he could look in the mirror and see the man whose face had first chosen to be so autonomous and free from heaven.

Cas’s eyes were still closed, and Chuck knew he couldn’t let him wake up here. He couldn’t face his son. Not now. Still, he was surprised to find himself kneeling on the floor of the kitchen, running his hands through the soft parts of Castiel’s hair, his thoughts, surprisingly far away from the ending of the rest of the world. Instead, he placed a kiss on top of Cas’s head, sending him to a beautiful forest, by a stream to wake up.

And then the kitchen was empty again, the clock on the wall ticking loudly, and the stain from the spilled alcohol shining on the floor.

Chuck contemplated what he’d done. Wondered at his own need to break every rule that had bound him for centuries and heal one lowly angel when he’d let hundreds of others die.

But, he thought he already knew the answer. Where Chuck had made humans in a deliberate effort at salvation, one lowly angel had been a surprise. A miracle. And, as Chuck sat back in his chair, he smiled as he admitted it to himself: it turned out that maybe it wasn’t just the humans that were there to save. It turned out that maybe, just maybe, a forgettable, self-sacrificing angel with blue eyes and too much heart could be the one to redeem them all.

4

In a world both frightening and unlucky, there are a few comforts. One of them is making new friends. Friends can make you feel the world is smaller and safer than it really is because you know people who have similar experiences. When you meet people like that, you may find your world feels a little more complete. 

Like the missing piece of a puzzle.

The weirdest thing about people endlessly mocking the existence of “safe spaces” at colleges (besides the fact that they generally have no idea what a safe space really is or how it works) is that, exactly contrary to their favorite arguments, it IS exactly how much of the adult world is supposed to work. Businesses have adopted rules about conduct for fucking decades now.

Many big corporations fail horribly to enforce these rules, but they’re there, they’ve been there, and people DO suffer repercussions for breaking them every single day. At one time you could hurl slurs around at zero risk to your job, and today, it carries at least some risk depending on the workplace.

So all this shit about “coddling” students before they enter the “real world” is completely backwards. A college safe space is more like a smaller dose of how the real professional career world is intended to function.

Full Moon and Jupiter sharing a field of view. 

Labeled top to bottom, the tiny pinpricks of light above bright Jupiter are the four Galilean moons; Callisto, Europa, Ganymede, and Io. Callisto, Ganymede, and Io are physically larger than Earth’s Moon, while water world Europa is only slightly smaller. In fact, of the Solar System’s six largest planetary satellites, only Saturn’s moon Titan is missing from the scene.

Image Credit & Copyright: Göran Strand

I wonder how many people would have fallen in love if they had only spoken to each other. Strangers sitting next to each other on an airplane at night, watching the world grow smaller beneath them. Or in a tiny bookstore filled with old stories, their pages yellowed and dusty with age. Or sitting next to each other at a concert, both wanting to linger in the same note of a song that they think contains a universe. How many strangers have shared lovely, beautiful moments together? How many people would have found the love of their life if they had decided to say something?
—  polarioid 

Aries — 

 Oh, my sweet, sweet child, what has the world done to you? You were a bright promise, the tomorrow we had hoped for, holding flowers in your mouth without crushing them and trusting blindly in those around you. And then came the blood; and now your fire is a quiet thing, a crackling murmur hidden in the shadows. You’ve curled into yourself like a newborn babe, held your heart tightly to your chest and began the tedious healing. And all the salt in your tears made the deep wounds sting; was it this what kept you pure? I wonder, oh, I wonder. Before you, I had never seen an anathema so full of innocence. (The world tried to cast you down from paradise; and it succeeded. But the fall couldn’t maim you, for fire cannot kill fire – it simply shrunk you, much like a mimosa bloom. I hope one day you’ll feel safe enough to flower, for there is so much beauty in you.)

Taurus — 

 I wish I could wrap my hands around your shoulders and hold you close for a while, because oh, what sad things they are, your bones. I am so sorry, beloved; so very sorry. And I am well aware these apologies cannot change anything, but I want you to know that there is someone who sees you as you are – even when all the others see is your superfluous frivolity and your desire for riches, I see the thoughtful mind, the gentle gestures, each and every of your heartbeats. The song of you is imprinted into my memory
as the change in seasons is; you are unforgettable, something so precious and so very dear. (Don’t let them shame you for your greed – those who try to do so cannot wrap their all too little minds around the fact that sin is not necessarily negative. Your love for gold has root in the same place as your love for others; you only want it so you may share it.)

Gemini — 

 It’s lonely, isn’t it? not being the way all others are. They tell you you’re a forgery, that your smile is a mask and your composure an act, simply because they cannot accept the idea that people are supposed to be multidimensional. On and on they go, pinning their ignorance to you under the name of blame, seeing in you only that which they wish to see. Sometimes, you wish you were like them. I know you do. You shouldn’t. It might be lonely where you are, but that doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing; lonely doesn’t mean secluded. There are others like you, with minds like diamonds. Others like you, who are only habitual in their tendency for change. (You will find someone who can make sense out of you, one day, you know. They’ll know you better than you yourself do – every single aspect of you, every single frantic facet and feeling. And when you do, the wait will be more than worth it. I promise you won’t die nor live alone.)

Cancer — 

 You poor, poor, poor thing. It’s been a thousand years since you’ve curled into yourself, hid your heart deep in the cradle of your ribs and let yourself sleep; then the time came for you to awaken, and you found the world unchanged – it was as if everything had stood still. Reality swept into you like saltwater into gaping wounds, and every fiber of your soul wept. fearful, you took the broken glass road still, walked it fully aware of what laid in waiting; like a bride the night she is wed to a stranger, you swallowed your terror and saw it through. Often, those ignorant make you out to be such a bumbling coward. You’re not. You just aren’t. (In fact, you’re one of the bravest people I know; it takes so much courage to let the world see you weep – and it takes even more of it to wipe your tears and keep moving forward. Above all, it takes immense courage to allow yourself to love even when you know it’ll hurt.)

Leo — 

 The size of your heart puts to shame both Jupiter and your own pride and ego; to this day, I am not sure if you would have been better off with one much smaller, but I know for sure the world would have been emptier by far. You see, your touch is one of gold; whomever you decide to invest your time and love into grows the size of Atlas, and so, without you as you are now there would have been much less in the world. That is your downfall, isn’t it? Always has been. The way you’ve always put others first, giving them all of you, never asking for anything to be given to you in return. You are a gardener, dearest, and people are your roses. (It breaks my heart that all your selfless effort was almost always repaid in hurt and sorrow; know that you are not to be blamed for any of it. You have done nothing wrong – sometimes, things simply fall apart. Don’t shut your heart. I’d hate to see your love rot and turn to hatred.)

Virgo — 

 You have endured well the contempt of others, my dear; you have taken every blow with open arms. They have called you frigid and prude and arrogant and everything in between, but you knew better. Tell me then: if you can endure so well the slander of others, if you don’t care what they make of you, why do you worry so? Why do you see only blemishes when you look at yourself in the mirror? Your hesitance to trust others stems in your fear that if you let them in they’ll see your ugliness, all the imagined imperfections you see in your reflection. You can’t trust others because you don’t trust yourself; and I wish so badly that you would have a little more faith in who you are, in your beauty. (Being unable to forgive, jealousy and lust do not make you terrible. Hate is human nature as much as love is; emotions, be they bad or good, are intrinsic to mankind. You are such a passionate being, despite your outward delicacy, and that, my dear, is simply stunning. Please try to love yourself.)

Libra — 

 Darling child, didn’t the gods tell you the mob sees dancers as something of the devil, especially when their preferred stage is the sharp edge of a sword? Few in this world love truth, and fewer still are fond of things like righteousness and justice. Your ability to remain indiscriminate in the face of contradictory realities and deny none of them is both a blessing and a curse. Your mind, I fear, is the Pandora fate has crafted specifically for you; a beautiful gift that hides such doom and sorrow. And you are aware of all of this – how you were meant for greater things, with your noble mind and your true heart, yet on you dance, fighting against the windmills of adversity. How brave you are. (Know that your effort will not go without reward. Know that you won’t be forever unloved, nor will you be forever misunderstood. There will be those whom, like you, have the makings of just men, and they will understand. Keep your eyes open and search the crowd; that is what you do best.)

Scorpio — 

 I look at you and my heart grows small; there is so much sadness in you, from the flower of your eyes to the slouching arch of your shoulders. You have been misjudged and falsely accused for so long: Whore, they said; monster, perverter, sickness of the soul – and all of it because you like sex, as if somehow they are the Virgin Mary reborn, the goddamn hypocrites. This, too, is something they have misunderstood; it is not sex that you crave or are interested in. It is intimacy: it is the vulnerability that comes with having your soul completely bared and lain before another; you crave love, in its’ purest of forms. (And I know they have convinced you that someone of your kind is not “worthy”; fuck that. Your love is priceless, and one day someone will call your battle scars a masterpiece. One day someone will love you as wholly as you deserve to be loved. They will love all of you.)

Sagittarius — 

 There is such wanderlust in you – you’ve made a home out of the long, long roads, walked the earth to its’ ends and bathed in the oceans of the horizon; the sky was your sole companion, its’ stars your map, the wind a spellsong to ward off the passing sadness and melancholia that threatened to dim the flame of your heart. Oh, my child; how very wonderful you are, a barefoot nomad forever in awe of the world. The feeble minded call you rootless; how wrong they are. Having a voyager heart does not make you afraid of commitment. It simply means your roots lie elsewhere, splat across the world. (Do not let their malice plant doubts into your mind’s garden; your gypsy heart is worth more than all their empty ones combined. Keep daring the world, sate your thirst for journeying; only exploration can ever lead to discovery, so let your feet and head both walk the world.)

Capricorn — 

 Good god, you’re so tired. Life has worn you down to the marrow of your bones, took everything from you until you were bare-handed; and yet you’re still here, standing before me, your spine hardened to titanium, a delicate thing that can withstand even the most apocalyptic of sieges; you still find it in you to smile, bitter-bloody-all-teeth and still happy, somehow. Know that I am proud of you; of your bravery, of your resilience, of how you’ve clung to life by the skin of your teeth. I am proud of you. (And know that you deserve happiness – you may feel like you don’t, you may feel that it is above the likes of you, but you deserve it; you have earned it. Know that one of these days, the sun will shine down on your lane, too.)

Aquarius — 

 There’s so much of you inside your skin I am often surprised it has yet to come apart at the seams; there’s so much of everything inside your skull I am left in awe of your bones – often I wonder, how are they strong enough to contain the exploding universe inside? My god, this world of ours has seven wonders and you are all of them. The fortitude of your bright mind ceaselessly surprises me; I know what to expect, and yet I am still thrown off by your ingenuity and your ability to remain rational in your abstract ways. Nobody but you is open enough to accept it all; nobody but you can see through the prism of all eyes and walk away with their sanity intact. (I know they call you “cold”, an ice queen of the Siberian tundra. Let them be. Those who cannot see your white-hot warmth are not worthy of your brilliance. You are the brightest star, my dear, someone accepting and embracing of it all. Do not settle for anyone that is blind to your light.)

Pisces — 

 And how terrible it must be for you, who lives always halfway, to be stuck in a world that demands certainties which you will never have to give. It is not to say you don’t want to be resolute – you simply cannot. Your world does not have truth, nor does it have falsity; all that your world has are colors, swirling, forever mingling anew like the clouds in the sky. One day you are overflowing with everything that blooms inside of you, and lilies are spilling out of your ribs; the next, you’re empty, and you can’t for the life of you find something that is all-encompassing enough to fill the growing abyss south of your sternum. (Kknow that it is okay. The most humane thing you can be is full of contradictions;  as maddening as it can be, each paradox gets you closer to the entity your peers call God. It was never the Devil that built his home on the crossroads, you know. Embrace your nature.)

— Poetry for the Signs: The “You’ve Done Well” Edition, by L. Schreiber.

anonymous asked:

omg your bloodstone makes me think it would actually be a funny "filler" episode where steven thinks zombies are taking over beach city, but the end reveals it was just bloodstone, a quartz similar to ame who came out later (but wasn't found by the crystal gems) and had been following them around since they visited the second kindergarten. she looks scary (probably a little misshapen) but she just wants to know what it's like being a crystal gem- she's been alone for like 4000 years, so

I love this idea so much!!!

I feel like she either came from the Beta kindergarten or maybe a different one somewhere else in the world that the crystal gems come across on a mission. She’s smaller than the average quartz but still taller than Ame. She’s a little misshapen in the sense her body often hunches over causing her to walk awkwardly (like a zombie I guess!). She probably emerged not too long after the corruption happened and had no idea who she was or what her purpose is and ended up just wandering around trying to find answers. She was often attacked by humans who thought she was a monster, so often hid in the kindergarten area until she sees Steven and the gems and follows them to Beach City.

i thought i should draw lumina since i drew void yesterday

other than that i dont really have anything to say about this