emma watson photographed for elle uk, march 2017
my fucking queen
kirishima on the left, bakugou on the right for some reason
More you might like
““I have been staying awake at nights, wondering if I should tell you.” - Unknown”
—
do you ever think about how if you dive into the ocean and go deeper and deeper you will pass through layers of darker and darker blue until everything is black and cold and the pressure will be so intense that it will kill you without protection but if you keep going you will find little glowing specks of light, and if you go up into the sky and go higher and higher you will pass through layers of darker and darker blue until everything is black and cold and the pressure will be so intense that it will kill you without protection but if you keep going you will find little glowing specks of light
your heart is a muscle the size of a rat
SPONGE BOB SQUARE PANTS
Your brain’s about four times the size of a cat’s
SPONGE BOB SQUARE PANTS
Your lungs can hold 5.5 liters of air
SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS
The soles of your feet can never grow hair
SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS
SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS
SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS
SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS
SPONGEBOB…
SQUAREPAAAAAAAANTS
*~deedlee-doot-dee-doot doo-oot~*
Anonymous asked:
prompt: zukka helping each other feel less homesick🥺
dickpuncher420 answered:
Zuko finds him out on the roof.
There’s the familiar creak of the window swinging open, and Sokka tilts his head just enough to watch Zuko climb carefully through. He’s dressed in a simple tunic and pants, nothing like his ornate Fire Lord robes that he usually wears around the palace, and it makes him look—younger. Boyish.
It’s easy to forget, sometimes, that they’re still barely adults. Barely even men.
“Hi,” Sokka says.
“Hi.” Zuko makes his way over to Sokka in a crouch, careful not to slip on the sloped tiles, and settles down onto his back next to him.
“Are you following me?”
“Um, maybe.” Zuko sounds embarrassed. “Do you want me to leave?”
“No.” Sokka turns away from Zuko’s profile, focuses back on the stars above. “You can stay. You might get bored, though.”
“That’s okay.” There’s a rustle as Zuko shifts; Sokka feels the brush of his tunic against his arm. “What are you doing?”
Sokka lifts one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “Nothing, really. Stargazing, I guess.” He hesitates, chews at his lip. When he glances over, he finds Zuko watching him—not with any sort of expectation in his eyes, but with a patience that Sokka never would have thought him capable of a few years ago. It makes that hollow feeling, that constant ache in his chest, ease for just a moment, and—it’s still hard to admit, even after all this time, but he finds that the words come more easily than he expects.
“I, uh, my mom used to take me out to look at the stars, whenever I was upset. We’d go over all the constellations together until I felt better.” He pauses and clears his throat. “I, uh. I thought it might help, if I tried the same thing here. Didn’t really work the last couple of times, but. You never know.”
They’re silent for a few moments, until Zuko says, his voice quiet, “I didn’t know you were feeling upset.”
Sokka has to blink a few times at that, to clear the sudden stinging in his eyes. “It’s nothing, really. I’m just homesick.”
“Homesick,” Zuko echoes. “I know the feeling.”
Sokka cuts his gaze over to him, confused, but then—ah. Yeah. Three years spent at sea, desperately trying to prove himself so that he could finally return home.
“We navigated using the stars a lot,” Zuko says. “I know that the constellations are different here than they are in the Southern Water Tribe.”
Sokka nods mutely. That’s part of the reason why coming out here hasn’t really helped, despite his best efforts. No matter how hard he looks at the night sky, trying to decipher the patterns in the stars, none of them are familiar to him. The memory of his mother’s hand on his, guiding his finger as he traced the shape of the snow hares racing each other through the stars, is so faint that he fears that one day he’ll wake up and it’ll just be gone, forever.
“I can teach them to you, if you like,” Zuko offers.
Sokka blinks. “What?”
“The constellations. I can teach them to you,” Zuko says. He suddenly sounds very unsure of himself. “Unless—unless you don’t want me to. It’s fine if you don’t.”
“No, I—I do.” Sokka reaches a hand out, touches the edge of Zuko’s sleeve with his fingertips. “That would be—yeah. Thank you.”
And so Zuko walks him through the constellations, with the quiet confidence of someone who’s been doing this for years. There’s the Sun Warrior, with his long phoenix-tail, and the twin dragons circling each other in a never-ending dance. The fox spirit, and the tiger-ox, and the procession of Agni’s followers that trail him across the night sky. Zuko reaches out and gently grasps Sokka’s wrist, guides his hand through the unfamiliar patterns—and, slowly, steadily, with every quiet murmured explanation, that familiar ache in his chest begins to fade.
