three things i'm good at


she’s a handsome woman // panic! at the disco
Typecast as a terrorist | Riz Ahmed | The Long Read
The Long Read: As my acting career developed, I was no longer cast as a radical Muslim – except at the airport
By Riz Ahmed

[…] The holding pen was filled with 20 slight variations of my own face, all staring at me – kind of like a Bollywood remake of Being John Malkovich. It was a reminder: you are a type, whose face says things before your mouth opens; you are a signifier before you are a person; you are back at stage one.

So old love goes belly-up
and I take it out on you.
I wait for this to splinter
like a branch holding too much weight.
I turn off the lights just to talk
with the ghosts. All those hearts
who didn’t want me, who look
nothing like you. And still.
Fear is a funny thing, you know?
I don’t mean to treat you
like a red flag or some kind of crime scene:
to keep putting band-aids on something
that isn’t broken.
I know it frustrates you.
I know, some days, I ask what’s wrong
too many times in a row and won’t take
“nothing" for an answer. But–
the overturned china cabinet of your life
starts putting itself together again and
I’m so afraid
that you only needed me
to help pick up the pieces.

DARK MATTER | 2.01 | Five & Six

I was torn. I didn’t know what to do. I was a cop, sworn to uphold the law, and after that planet was destroyed-


His voice is soft when he asks, “Have you got something bothering you?”

Without intent, I don’t answer right away. This is when he finally opens his eyes again and they are emerald fire. There is a soft conversation solely between our gaze without any words before I shake my head and tell him, “No.”

He closes his eyes again. I look at the bench and think about the missed calls and unanswered messages from Liam. I look at the clouds. They’re a blinding white. I look at Harry. His chest is rising and falling. I can almost hear his heartbeat. Almost.

half of the cops in my hometown and at least three (3) of my old schoolteachers have donated money to my mom’s gofundme and it’s strangely validating like most abusive parents lie and say they know all of the cops and that there’s no one for you to turn to but my mom wasn’t lying back then and i knew it and she emailed my teachers all the time to know exactly how awful i was day-to-day and i was aware of it then and as far as i know she still complains/jokes about what a problem child i was to my teachers when she sees them in the store she works at like… the isolation wasn’t in my head it was real™ y’all i wasn’t crazy hooray 

tfw you wanna make a long detailed post explaining the absolute clusterfuck going on in your life right now and how it’s making you unable to focus on anything but you feel like it’s way too intense and heavy and you don’t wanna worry people so instead This™ 


ps: hi i’m back and more stupid than ever and this is first time i’ve even drawn tsuki in any form i am HORRIBLE


  ‘cause i ain’t sticking around long:  a  f a n m i x  f o r  n i c k

  “Name’s Nick,

  but don’t bother learning it.”


Lightning Strikes Twice

So almost three months ago, my house was struck by lightning. Destroyed a very nice television and knocked out the internet. Last Saturday, it happened again. This time it took out the television, internet, satellite box, and blu ray player. Ugh. Oh well. At least I had a warranty on this tv.

Anyway, just saying I haven’t had internet for the past week, but it’s fixed and I’m back now. ♥

Did I miss anything? Internet time moves very quickly.