it’s love that does us in

Vern (rhymes with fern). lady person, late twenties, midwestern, invested in fictional narratives, kittu9 on AO3. kind of a goober, tbh.

currently into: alternate universes, arrow, brooklyn 99, contemporary art, elementary, feminism, fierce ladies, talking about all of the above.

 

kyrafic:

I have thought about this every single Tuesday since I saw it. And most other weekdays, too.

(Source: hurwitzs)

jaegermighty replied to your post “you all might appreciate this: i was at an art opening for work the…”

oh my god it’s like the meet-cute at the beginning of a nora ephron movie!!!!

i have great meet-cutes, but i get so flustered that i have to leave the scene of every crime. (did i ever tell you about the one time i got hit on in a bar? it’s beautiful.)

chevronlocked replied to your post “you all might appreciate this: i was at an art opening for work the…”

Omg I’m cackling, this just turned into the first chapter of a romance novel

it’s very funny now. my mother was so disappointed that i left without getting his name. “veronica, he could have been the one!!!” i still can’t believe i told him we were soul mates, as soon as i said it i was like “…i have to go.”

ohmypreciousgirl replied to your post “you all might appreciate this: i was at an art opening for work the…”

felicity smoak moment ahahahaha

it’s a gift. maybe a curse, too, a little. 

theeverlea replied to your post “you all might appreciate this: i was at an art opening for work the…”

this is the cutest meet cute i’ve heard! you poor thing though :( you are not a disaster, it’s a fair reply you made! was he cute at least? ;)

he was cute AND age-appropriate! if i hadn’t been so flustered i would have talked to him, but if he hadn’t been cute i wouldn’t have been so flustered. 

freaoscanlin replied to your post “you all might appreciate this: i was at an art opening for work the…”

real life felicity smoak. *gives you alcohol, chocolate, and lifelong adoration*

thank you. it’s a great comfort in my disaster zone. 

you all might appreciate this: i was at an art opening for work the other night (i’m an art writer, among other things) and some guy accidentally body-checked me into a wall. he apologized immediately and profusely.

“it’s ok, ” i said, trying to joke. “i’m a third child, this happens a lot.”

“ohmygosh, i’m a third child too, this makes it worse!”

dude looked so mortified that i got embarrassed for him and said, “we’re soul mates!”

of course i meant kindred spirit, but then i was flustered so i just…had to leave.

boofadil replied to your post “headache remedies, veronica version: sumatriptan, peppermint oil,…”

layering lavender and peppermint oils on the temples helps me a lot, but it totes depends on the type of headache. water is important tooooooo!

yeah, i forgot my lavender oil at home, but the peppermint oil is helping. i’m so queasy that water’s making me feel worse, hence the lemonheads. thank you for the tips!!!

headache remedies, veronica version: sumatriptan, peppermint oil, coffee, lemonheads. 

impishtubist:

shadowstep-of-bast:

tomhiddllestop:

IF YOU LOVE WRITING BUT DON’T HAVE THE INSPIRATION FOR A 10-PART BOOK SAGA YOU SHOULD TAKE A LOOK AT THIS SITE

IT’S INCREDIBLY HELPFUL AND CAN FOR INSTANCE GENERATE TOPICS AND FIRST LINES, CONTAINS LOADS OF EXERCISES AND YOU CAN FIND PLENTY OF WRITING TIPS.

BLESS YOU I LOVE YOU OH MY GODS I’VE NEEDED THIS

WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL MY LIFE?

(Source: noshitloki)

foxmouth:

The Halted Traveller, 2012

“The term ‘halted traveller’ is usually associated with German romantic painters like Caspar David Friedrich, to describe a person seen from behind facing a lanscape. The lonely wanderer appears to have been halted by the view of the landscape.

This implies to us as a viewer that there is perhaps more to the landscape than we see. One can also identify with the figure. His posture invites you to imagine what he feels facing this landscape in front of his and your eyes.”

by Damien Rayuela

(Source: foxmouth)

sunday six: scenes from the arrow dance au

my browser keeps crashing on me but i was worried you guys thought i was dead: the sunday six edition, now with nyssa and sara meeting cute.


“I know who you are,” Nyssa smiled at Sara, looking approximately like a cat who was planning to eat a canary. “I want you to come and dance with me.”

“I don’t know what you’re getting at,” Sara said. “But in case you’re out of the loop: I’m probably going to get cut from Dearden Dance Company’s roster in the next season—two at the outside, and that’s just because my sister likely won’t sign her contract unless I’m in the chorus; my lines are shit; and I don’t have any classical technique. You don’t want me.”

Nyssa flipped a card out of her jacket pocket and handed it over: Nanda Parbat, it read. Contemporary aerial dance. “I’m not just a choreographer; I started my own troupe a few months ago. You should look into it.”

Sara had already skipped barre class. She ran her thumb over the edges of the card and figured trying something new—something where her body wasn’t considered a drawback before anyone even saw the way she moved and the way the music and the beat got under her skin—wouldn’t hurt any worse than that.