(via konako)

I often use the metaphor of Perseus and the head of Medusa when I speak of science fiction. Instead of looking into the face of truth, you look over your shoulder into the bronze surface of a reflecting shield. Then you reach back with your sword and cut off the head of Medusa. Science fiction pretends to look into the future but it’s really looking at a reflection of what is already in front of us. So you have a ricochet vision, a ricochet that enables you to have fun with it, instead of being self-conscious and superintellectual. Ray Bradbury (via maxistentialist)

(via imagine-me)

emilyisobsessed:

Leslie Knope tries impressions and accents

image

(via insidiousmisandry)

gayisthenewokay:

happylittlebastille:

long-island-comedium:

SO YOU KNOW THAT POST ABOUT THE RED VARSITY JACKETS WITH LEATHER SLEEVES BEING THE LESBIAN UNIFORM???

WELL I WAS LOOKING AT THIS JACKET ONLINE:

image

AND THEN I FOUND THIS REVIEW:

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AND I AM ABSOLUTELY LOSING IT

LOOK AT THE “BEST USES”

it looks even better out of the closet

OH MY GOD IT’S THIS POST IF ANY OF YOU ARE WONDERING WHY I’M LAUGHING MY ASS OFFimage

(via insidiousmisandry)

On The Topic of Eliot Spencer

ylixia:

I’ve been thinking a lot about the (many) women Eliot dates/hooks up with.  Like, it’s always played up that he’s a Casanova and a charmer but every word out of his mouth about any woman he’s ever been with is respectful.  At one point Hardison goes on about Eliot being such a playboy and says something about stewardesses and Eliot is all “First of all, they’re flight attendants, they don’t like being called stewardesses.”  (The phrasing of this is stunning to me; to Eliot, all the information he needs to not call flight attendants stewardesses is that they don’t like it touches me deeply)

And then there was that one Fashion Job where he rolls up in that damn fine fashion week getup (the eyeliner, dear god I will never be over Eliot with eyeliner and glasses with his hair pulled back BE STILL MY HEART) and when they look at him funny he’s just like “I dated a lot of models, okay?”

Eliot respects the women he dates, but more than that he learns from them.  He doesn’t regard their experiences as silly or frivolous and Eliot, the information sponge, a man with an absolutely astounding eye and memory for detail, does not regard their information as less valuable because it’s sometimes feminine.

As a woman who has had so many men feign interest in my hobbies to get into my pants, or who has had men focus on my looks with out giving a good goddamn what’s between my ears instead of my legs, Eliot “Hey you’re super pretty lets have sex and then I’ll make you dinner while you teach me about interior design” Spencer means so, so much to me.

(via racethewind10)


i’m very hot…and dangerous [x]

i’m very hot…and dangerous [x]

(via racethewind10)

sailorsunspot:

Ruby’s Theme: I miss you, dead mom, and I am going to have a variety of weird friends

Weiss’ Theme: I fear this loneliness inside of me

Blake’s Theme: I have become a monster to free myself from my oppressors

Yang’s Theme: HAHA FUCK YOU I AM INVINCIBLE BITCH

(via insidiousmisandry)

kimchicutie:

wendy-pleakley:

look what i fucking did (original post)

PUT THAT THING BACK WHERE IT CAME FROM OR SO HELP ME!!!

(via thatawkwarddisneymoment)

asker

Anonymous asked: Swan Queen movie night watching Imagine Me and You!!

ohthesefeelingz:

(sorry for the delay, anon - I actually had to rewatch the movie to be able to pull this off!)

*

When the movie finally ends, Emma Swan is a sobbing mess, wrapped in a ridiculous pink blanket and surrounded by used tissues. The movie is not even that sad – or that good – but Emma has a cold and she’s on her period and there are too many feelings floating through her right now.

 And because she can’t be left alone to dwell in this experience of personal humiliation, Ruby chooses this moment to arrive home at the apartment they’ve been sharing since Emma moved out of Snow’s.

 “Geez, Emma, I didn’t take you for a sap,” Ruby jokes, falling on the sofa next to her with a thud and wincing at the sound of Happy Together. “Or for a fan of romantic comedies.”

 “I’m not,” Emma sort of whimpers, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “Horrible timing to watch this stupid movie.”

 Ruby gives her a one-armed hug and kisses her temple, “It’s okay, you’ll get over the pirate soon.” Ruby scrunches her nose, like she always does at the mention of Hook, and Emma smiles a tiny smile. “I mean, other than sexy guyliner, he doesn’t have a lot to offer. You deserve better.”

 Emma sniffles and rests her head on Ruby’s shoulder. Hook is not the problem. They’d had a somewhat passionate, somewhat exciting and definitely not right relationship, but what’s done is done and Hook is not the kind of person Emma could settle down with.

 The problem is that Emma watches these movies and they are simple and the people in them are happy and all Emma can think about is Regina.

*

The next morning, Emma stops by Game of Thorns before going to the station and orders a bouquet of lilies to be delivered at 108 Mifflin Street.

All the card says is “Everyone promises you happily ever after but life turns into a different kind of fairy tale.”

Read More

*

“Ma, I’m like, 99.9% sure mom won’t like this,” Henry says, but his eyes are gleaming as he connects the Wii remote control with the guitar. “What got into you to buy me Guitar Hero anyway? It’s not even my birthday.”

“I wanted to play too.” Emma lies smoothly, with a dismissive shrug. “I don’t think your mom is gonna be that mad, I’ve listened to her singing.” Henry looks at her with a raised eyebrow and Emma coughs, embarrassed. “Once.

“And that was all?” Henry’s eyebrows are all the way up to his hairline now and Emma hates that he’s as smart as his other mother sometimes.

“Okay, she may have made me promise to never mention it again, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t like music!”

“Now that’s more like it,” Henry snorts, pressing the start button. “Let’s worry about that later.”

When Regina arrives at the manor, Livin’ on a Prayer is blasting on the stereo system and Emma flinches as she notices her by the door, but all Regina does is take her shoes off and steal the guitar away from Henry.

She’s not half bad and seeing her laugh together with their son fills Emma with something akin to warmth.

As far as ideas go, this one isn’t the most awful she could’ve had.

*

Storybrooke’s fair is the biggest event of the year. There are food stands and game stands and a lot of attractions for kids and adults alike. The music is atrocious though, and Emma can’t wait for the fireworks. Fireworks mean the night is almost over and she can go home and sleep.

The first rocket is still blasting through the night sky when Emma spots Regina approaching her with a playful expression on her face. Emma really, really likes that face and she forgets herself for a long moment, still not quite believing that they’ve reached a point of almost-friendship where they cherish each other’s company – after Robin, after Hook, after Pan and Zelena and Elsa.

“See something you like, dear?” Regina, the evil woman, asks, glancing at her with a smirk before looking up at the show above them.

Emma snickers and scratches the back of her neck with a hand, grateful for the darkness that conceals the rosy tone of her cheeks, “Hey, Regina.”

Regina nods and doesn’t reply. She was never one for conversation when more interesting things are happening.

“These are my favorites,” Emma whispers after a while, pointing at the golden rocket that explodes into a million little stars that last and last and last.

“I like them too,” Regina says, and as she glances at Emma there’s a flicker of something in her eyes, something deep and meaningful and scary that makes Emma’s tummy explode with fluttering butterflies.

“What do you think happens when an unstoppable force meets an unmovable object?” Emma blurts out, her mouth speaking before her brain can catch up.

Regina laughs, breaking the spell. “What kind of a question is that?”

Damn, Emma thinks, she really needs to let go of that dumb movie.

*

Emma hopes against hope that no one asks her about the school play. It’s not like it matters anyway, as Henry has all of a grandiose one-liner to say, but she’s pretty sure the town’s Sheriff is supposed to be paying attention.

Thing is, she has no fucking clue how she can pay attention when it’s so dark and the actors’ back and forth is so soothing and Regina is sitting right next to her.

All she feels and sees and hears is Regina. The way she breathes almost silently and there’s a hint of apples in the smell of her hair behind the scent of whatever expensive perfume Regina’s got going for her. The way her eyes crinkle when the crowd laughs at one of the play’s jokes (it’s a comedy, so it should be funny, right?). The way her hands smooth her skirt every other moment, like perfection is a crutch for Regina even now.

The worst part is when Regina leans to whisper something in her ear and Emma shivers and sighs and smiles back with her whole being.

That’s why Emma fidgets and turns and overall makes a fool of herself until Regina rests a hand on the chair between hers and Emma’s thigh and no, it doesn’t mean anything but Emma doesn’t care, not when this inch of air between them has been feeling like the fucking Wall of China all evening and Emma’s heart is drumming wild with longing.

She pretends it’s an accident, but her pinky covers Regina’s, and if they stay still until the time comes to clap, it’s merely a coincidence.

*

Emma rings the bell and waits, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. What the hell is she doing, about to watch a sorta lesbionic movie with Regina fucking Mills? The two of them alone, on a sofa – a sofa that is not that big if memory serves right. She had barely survived the school play and there’d been dozens of people there.

Ugh. This is a catastrophe. Emma should just bolt while she can.

But she can’t because Regina opens the door and smiles, gesturing for her to get in. Emma does, leaving her shoes and jacket on the foyer and following Regina to the living room. “Henry?”

“Upstairs, reading in bed.”

“I’ll go wish him good night.”

When she returns, Regina is already comfortably installed on – on the middle of the couch?! Emma does a double-take and gulps as she puts the DVD in the player.

No no no, this is the mother of all horrible ideas and Emma is right in the center of it. What was she thinking, getting Regina to watch Imagine Me&You?

It’s official, she’s not gonna survive this night.

*

Emma hasn’t watched the movie since that first time weeks ago but she remembers every single moment of it and it’s with mortifying curiosity that she studies Regina’s reactions to it.

It isn’t quite what Emma had expected. She expected sassy remarks at the obvious romantic nature of the movie or, if she were lucky, some heart-warming smiles because come on, the movie is cute.

But as the minutes tick by, Regina’s frown increases and Emma gets more and more worried that she just majorly screwed up the precious companionship they’d built over the last few months, so she just drops all pretense of looking at the screen and is now openly staring at Regina. Which pays off because Emma knows every single line and expression of that face and Regina may be frowning, but it’s not out of disgust or apprehension.

It’s recognition.

Regina is watching the movie and remembering the little things Emma’s been doing to her and for her.

It’s really not Emma’s fault that she never learned how one goes about pursuing the most beautiful woman in all lands, real and imagined.

“Lilies mean I dare you to love me.”

Regina leans forward and pauses the movie, a deafening silence surrounding them.

Shit.

Emma is in big big big trouble.

Or maybe she isn’t, because Regina turns to her, and kisses her.

lyannasnow:

sprtsnght:

cuntywhitelady:

UGH this is fucking beautiful

This is well done.

well, this is now my favorite video ever

(via racethewind10)