Alright! Permanently moving over to @leadheir!!!! This blog is going to become null!
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Interview Vampire Daily
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

roma★
The Stonewall Inn
No title available
almost home
No title available
tumblr dot com
Game of Thrones Daily
The Bowery Presents
hello vonnie
Monterey Bay Aquarium

Game Changer & Make Some Noise
official daine visual archive
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

Origami Around

shark vs the universe
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

ellievsbear
seen from Indonesia

seen from Türkiye
seen from United States

seen from China
seen from Brazil
seen from Canada
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Pakistan
seen from United States
seen from Chile
seen from Türkiye

seen from Colombia
seen from Germany

seen from Singapore
seen from Colombia
seen from New Zealand
seen from Bulgaria

seen from South Korea

seen from Russia

seen from United States
@burnthope-moved-blog
Alright! Permanently moving over to @leadheir!!!! This blog is going to become null!
Alright! Permanently moving over to @leadheir!!!! This blog is going to become null!
There’s two neatly wrapped boxes waiting upon Hange’s desk the next time she visits her office. Inside the first she’ll find a hand-knit sweater; in the other a new, leather bound journal. There’s no note to indicate who it’s from, but he’s sure she’ll be able to figure it out. Merry Christmas, Hange.
Christmas had since passed, and despite having returned from her own personal matters for over a week now – Hange had been unbelievably busy. Her usual vigor and passion strangely low, there was only so much she could do to keep appearances up. Some had even mentioned it to her, a word of concern passed around here or there, only to be brushed off with a convincing smile and a subtle redirection of topic. Yes, she would admit it to herself, she was tired. It was starting to show in her eyes mostly, her sluggish reaction time. Just this afternoon Erwin had called her name more than a few times without a response; he’d told her to rest as a result, even pulled rank on her. He meant well, as a friend more so than as merely Commander. And there was no doubt that she appreciated it, even if it didn’t seem as so.
The door clicks shut behind her and it’s only now that she finally notices the boxes. There was no telling how many times she must have overlooked them in her rush to get situated back in her office. Still, she’d spent most of her time working out of her office, to be fair. Hands outstretched after finishing her curious inspection. The first is quickly unwrapped, no care given in saving the wrapping paper, and thus reveals the sweater. She exhales softly through her nose, a warm smile soon overwhelming her features at the thoughtfulness – the base provided little shelter from the biting cold of winter. Standard issue jacket is shouldered off and tossed onto her chair whilst being replaced by the new garment. A perfect fit… It’s roomy, in a way that reminds her of home. ( A bit spacious, but always cozy. Comforting in it’s lowly lit and well furnished rooms, the living room had been carpeted with a soft fabric. She used to make an absolute mess of it. This one too, she thinks absently. She’d probably make a mess of this one too. ) The second is opened with slightly more care, on the off chance that it’s something fragile. She recognizes the texture before she actually sees it, a journal, and a high quality one no less. It was due, her old one tattered and torn, pages literally spilling from its spine. Each and every one covered front to back, she’d even had to resort to adding pages to the journal. But this one, she’d make sure to take better care of.
It occurs to her, after a moment of lingering contentment, that it’s not clearly stated who the gifter is. However, she had already made her assumptions and had come to a rather clear conclusion. The presents were wrapped neatly, of course, but beyond that; someone had picked up around her office. A task only a select couple might task themselves with, but one she knew with an irrefutable certainty.
She’d make sure to thank him later.
Do you have a headcanon regarding Hange's mbti type? I always see different answers so I'm curious your take on it.
In her description, I actually have her down as ENTP, however, it doesn’t quite hit the nail on the head. As of right now, it’s about a tie between ENTP and ESTP; so I’ve put Hange as both over at @leadheir. To break it down:
ENTP’s, nicknamed the debater, are briefly characterized as smart and curious individuals who can’t resist an intellectual challenge. Sounds a bit familiar, yeah? “An odd juxtaposition arises with Debaters, as they are uncompromisingly honest, but will argue tirelessly for something they don’t actually believe in, stepping into another’s shoes to argue a truth from another perspective.” In case it’s unclear, Hange constantly looks at subjects from another perspective. Referencing her take on the titans and others constant misconception that she adores them. News flash: She doesn’t. But, don’t you think it would be very difficult to invest yourself in a subject if all you have towards that subject is hatred? She was wise enough to realize that her rage and so many others’ could no longer be used as a solution. But she’s also wise enough to realize that even looking at the titans from another perspective could still be fruitless; she addresses the fact and holds onto hope that it might help humanity regardless. (This references Chapter 17 and her conversation with Eren). “Debaters, …, are on a constant quest for knowledge, and what better way to gain it than to attack and defend an idea, from every angle, from every side?” I’m sure you all recall Hange’s most popular quote of seeking knowledge to something one doesn’t understand, and it being well worth risk to their lives.
Their qualities are very on the dot as well: Knowledgable, quick thinking, original, charismatic, brainstormers, and energetic. So none of these are where I find myself disagreeing. It’s in their weaknesses: Very argumentative, insensitive, and intolerance being the main traits. As we’ve seen, Hange has a great deal of compassion, and while I agree that she can be reckless – this rarely cancels out the care she has for her comrades. I will bring up the Ilse’s Notebook OVA where Auruo is nearly eaten as a result of her speaking before she thinks. Do you really think she would have been able to live with herself if he had died by her own foolishness? Even afterwards, she apologized, deeply. “Never take your life for granted.” She admitted her mistakes, and I don’t doubt she’d criticised herself for awhile afterwards. Not convinced? Fine, reference chapter 84, “I have people I wish I could bring back to life too, you know? Hundreds of them.” Insensitive my ass. “Sooner or later, everyone you have ever cared about will eventually die. It’s something we simply can’t accept. It’s a realization that could drive you insane. It’s painful, so painful. I know.” She does not brush Mikasa’s emotions aside, but chooses to sympathize with her, with all of them. They’re children still, she knows, but she needs them to understand that you can’t save everyone. And while somewhat cold, it doesn’t mean she doesn’t care. She remembers everyone she’s lost.
uh, anyways…
ESTP’s, nicknamed the Entrepreneurs, are briefly described as smart, energetic, and highly perceptive people. “With perhaps the most perceptive, unfiltered view of any type, Entrepreneurs have a unique skill in noticing small changes. Whether a shift in facial expression, a new clothing style, or a broken habit, people with this personality type pick up on hidden thoughts and motives where most types would be lucky to pick up anything specific at all.” Literally realized where Reiner and Bert would probably be heading when they kidnapped Eren. How the area where Eren was being held (after being kidnapped by Kenny’s group) would probably look. Etc, etc. There’s legit so many cases I can’t even name all of them. “If Entrepreneurs aren’t careful though, they may get too caught in the moment, take things too far, and run roughshod over more sensitive people, or forget to take care of their own health and safety.” I can give examples but I honestly feel that’s unnecessary. “Entrepreneurs are full of passion and energy, complemented by a rational, if sometimes distracted, mind. Inspiring, convincing and colorful, they are natural group leaders, pulling everyone along the path less traveled,” She’s literally a Squad Leader, and now 14th Commander. No further explanation needed, I hope.
Qualities being: Rational, original, perceptive, direct, sociable. All very exact, imo. And Weaknesses being: Insensitive, impatient, risk-prone, unstructured, and defiant.
Anyways, this got super long, uhhh, yeah. Basically, Hange, not insensitive, but like, all of these other things.
I. Hanji treats her subjects humanely, and her attempts in terms of experimentation were solely intended for the purpose of conducting research civilly and respectfully. That is to say: Hanji got carried away sometimes. Optimally, she wanted to reduce as much pain and discomfort as possible when, say, collecting skin samples or timing the regenerative process in relation to how many limbs were cut off, how long it took to grow back, etc. … She broke down several times just trying to draw blood through a syringe. She apologized profusely, even when idle, and turned distraught at the barest hints of a negative reaction. Oppositely, she was thoroughly delighted whenever one of her subjects was particularly active and involved in the experiments themselves. She claimed that she wanted to view the nature of the Titans “from a different perspective” — which she did, conducted in her own unorthodox fashion, albeit with slow ( but deeply informative ) results.
“Sawney” and “Beane” were her first two subjects ( 4m and 7m class Titans, respectively ), captured on the 54th Expedition to reclaim Wall Maria. After the discovery of Ilse’s notebook, the Scouting Legion was granted permission to obtain subjects — a process made possible by the special Target Restraining Cannons, modeled after Hanji’s design. Thirty individual experiments were conducted on them over the course of two months before they were put down, following an incident that occurred with the injury of a soldier under Hanji’s supervision …
When the infamous Rogue Titan, a 15m class “Deviant” Titan, was finally captured after the efforts at the Reclamation of Trost District, 116 experiments were conducted on “Jäger” within the first week.
II. Hanji definitely has a tendency to ramble. She rambles on incessantly about her research and her findings, while her work space is usually left in shambles because of her constant shuffling through papers. Jäger’s “file” ( if it can even be called that, since it’s more or less just a lopsided stack of paper sprawled out across Hanji’s desk ) contains even the most minute, irrelevant details. It wouldn’t be a long stretch of the imagination to even say that she cataloged every blink, every breath, every strand of hair that was there to be observed. While she worked, Hanji talked to Jäger in the manner of idle bantering: “How’re you today ? How are you feeling ? Are you uncomfortable ? I’m not harming you, am I ? What do you think of this, or that, or this or this or that—” Jäger wouldn’t be able to answer even if he conceivably could, for she talked at such a pace that it was impossible even for her assistants to scribble down every word in a timely manner. In fact, Jäger refrains from participating in the experiments, because they would only drag on longer if he did …
He’d only made that mistake once, and that was enough. He must’ve made a sort of inquisitive noise about Hanji’s spectacles ( goggles, more specifically: he hadn’t seen any such headwear since his time with The Doctor ) — Hanji then took the next three hours explaining all the materials, sciences, productions, and mathematics composed in making them, even going so far as to disassemble her own pair and show each strap and lens separately. The Doctor explained things in layman’s terms, easy to understand and absorb … Hanji, er … not that he didn’t appreciate her efforts, but alas … Even some of the other soldiers nearby were lost within five minutes.
III. Hanji makes a point to not overexert herself. However, she has yet to grasp her own limit, but moreso her own mental endurance over physical means … Once she starts, she cannot stop, not until the work is complete — she will push further and further until, by some intervention or another, she is reminded of the needs of her comrades, or those under her supervision. Following the Sawney and Beane incident, she approached her research more delicately, in terms of safety before science. She engages Jäger personally on almost every level, foregoing the need for any of her assistants to risk harm unless it were necessary, say, by issuing or removing restraints. Moblit is perhaps the only person out of the Special Operations Squad, Captain Levi, Commander Erwin, Squad Leader Hanji, and a few other of the superior officers, that could certainly say he’d gotten close enough to touch Jäger ( though there have been occasions where a soldier would try and defend himself if he thought they were in danger, understandably so ). On some level, Hanji is aware that, ultimately, she would sacrifice anything if it were in her power to do so, in the pursuit of knowledge. She would give her own life for such a cause … and perhaps the lives of her comrades as well … That is what she hopes to avoid in the long-term, if anything.
This, of course, leads to a few occasions where she has fallen asleep, mid-ramble, in Jäger’s pen. It is a very rare thing, though her long hours of experiments have run their toll on her exertions, inevitably. She usually has the mind to recognize her exhaustion and collect herself before she goes to the barracks — but, ah … She does not make it, some nights. She’s fallen asleep hunched over a sample, draped over Jäger’s arm, once dozed off while lying on his back, and even slouched over her work-bench unceremoniously, scattering papers everywhere. Not that Jäger very much minded it, for he was well off into his own restless slumber by the time Hanji was eventually roused and taken back to her quarters. He does, however, dislike one aspect of her impromptu naps … She drools, sometimes, and snores, though quietly. He’d never known a human to do either of those things, and the first time it definitely unnerved him. He’d surely thought that she was dying, or something of the like.
I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory This is where it gets me: on my feet The enemy ahead of me If this is the end of me, at least I have a friend with me Weapon in my hand, a command, and my men with men
Not. Yet.
This, is not the end But, If there’s a reason I’m still alive when so many around me have died– I’d like to know why
Just an update as I felt I never actually announced what will be happening with this blog; I will be revamping! However, I do not have a laptop available until the 2nd/3rd, which is why I’ve not spent time answering questions or continuing threads. Furthermore, I will likely start fresh with a new blog! This one will remain as it is, but I’ll simply move once the other is complete. I appreciate the patience and the 175 followers!! Thanks so much for being so patient and supportive guys! And Happy New Years!
Chapter 89, translation
I uploaded a more accurate translation of chapter 89 on imgur, because some parts of the translation we had so far were a little off.
Just an update as I felt I never actually announced what will be happening with this blog; I will be revamping! However, I do not have a laptop available until the 2nd/3rd, which is why I've not spent time answering questions or continuing threads. Furthermore, I will likely start fresh with a new blog! This one will remain as it is, but I'll simply move once the other is complete. I appreciate the patience and the 175 followers!! Thanks so much for being so patient and supportive guys! And Happy New Years!
Ruffle (( I don't know if I sent this already, sorry! ))
Send me “Ruffle” for my muse’s reaction to your muse randomly coming up and running their fingers through mine’s hair. // Accepting !
It’s been three long days ever since they’ve been released from prison, shortening their punishment for disrespecting and threatening their superior not too long ago, which Mikasa is extremely thankful for. The lack of sunlight and the quiet, late hours of the night felt almost like a decade long; she didn’t know what to do with herself in that small cell other than sleep and dwell on all the things she had or hadn’t done, and while Armin and Eren were some sort of distraction, her brother was mostly talking to himself, staring into nothingness as the words stumbled out of his mouth. At least now Mikasa can focus on getting back to her feet and put on back the weight she lost; despite the tragic loss of their Commander, the war is far from over and there is no time to grief. She leans her back against the wall as she patiently waits for Eren to return from Hange’s office, silently wondering if there were things her brother hasn’t revealed to her yet for fear of hurting her. His sudden outburst in the court room was enough to stir up any form of suspicious thought regarding his memories.
❝ … Commander. ❞
She greets her superior once she spots her and Eren walking towards her, both still deep in conversation. There is a short pause, a subtle change of expression on her face as they approach Mikasa, which causes her to suspect her brother’s memories even further. But she quickly returns to her old self and once they stand in front of her, she suddenly reaches for Mikasa’s head and quickly ruffles her hair, a gentle and warm gesture she didn’t really expect from her but certainly welcomes it. Given the current circumstances and situation, especially Eren’s lifespan and the truth behind their father, it would be naive to assume that she isn’t emotionally drained & troubled; her mental state has also been going downhill ever since that day. Her support and even the subtle gestures her superiors occasionally offer are enough to absorb some comfort she so desperately craves and needs, without actually having to voice her concerns and fears. // @burnthope
Hanji does NOT have a plan to have Eren and Historia marry/breed/etc. in SnK 89
Just want to reiterate this and flag the rumor as 100% false!
Hey guys! I know it's been awhile;;; ( Far too long, I know. ) But things have been super busy around here between uni and work, and frankly? I've had no time to muse or write or even think properly. And on top of all of that, my internet's been absolute crap. What I'm trying to say is, though I know I'll regret it, is that this blog is going on HIATUS until I can find some time to breathe. Apologies to all you lovely people who've followed and stuck with me! You're the best, and I'm sorry I haven't been around. Best of luck to everyone, I'll try to keep up where I can. ❤️
Some people fall faster than others, because apathy and ambition fight differently.
cosmic-jackass, The remains of a book I never wrote (via wnq-writers)
You see, I feel so much of everything all at once, often it nearly hurts, you know, hands trembling and breath ghosting through my lungs so quick I can’t tell for sure if I’m inhaling or just pretending. So when he told me, “there is no sense in being timid, here,” I didn’t know what to do or how to act. Do I pretend I can’t feel our skin seeping together, smeared paint on a canvas that was torn in two so long ago? (Our edges line up in all the right places– you can never be shredded to the point where you’re unrecognizable, not really.) This is a time for tenacity, for gripping white-knuckled and sweaty-palmed, in that I-would-lose-my-mind-without-you way, in that it-hurts-when-we-are-apart way. Forgive me, but I believe our souls must have joined this world holding hands.
for touch // j.d.k. (via stanzae)
you glimpse us in between moments, threadbare hearts ticking with the seconds. we are dingy and grey, ancient and wanting, for the only thing we keep is time. we balance on the blade of midnight, each beat of the second hand a stab right through the ribcage as we leave am and move agonizingly closer to was. half-past may well be half-gone, our bones grow ever distant and our blood does nothing but water the plants. we are the two a.m. insomnia that gnaws at your idle hands, the three o'clock night terrors that shake you so hard fault lines cover your brittle skull. our lungs no longer pump, we breathe fog and wind to the rhythm of the ticking clock, counting bodies like seconds, one (one thousand), two (one thousand), three (one thousand).
they say midnight is the witching hour, but what of temporal ghosts? // j.d.k.
(prompt by punkanubis: clockwork ghosts)
What is the capacity of the human brain? Neurons weave like endless highways, buzzing with electricity, we can close our eyes and see so clearly things from when we were children, wood chips in our shoes and band-aids rubbing against our scraped, knobby knees. What is the capacity of the human heart? There is an overwhelming love, a faucet that never turns off, it pumps through us with our blood and warms us from the inside—sometimes there are cracks, enormous ones that echo like caverns with edges sharp as razor blades, but somehow that love knows to stay inside where it’s safe. What is the capacity of the human soul? It is obvious that there is something more, here, breathing essence into us. It radiates from somewhere too ambiguous to reach or define, yet we feel it all the same. Sometimes we ache with the intensity of the hardened mountains, sometimes we are bitter and cold as the Arctic, and still we stand.
maximum capacity // j.d.k. (via fclklore)
A MEDITATION. Count backward from one hundred. Ninety-nine, ninety-eight, ninety-seven… You are sinking, you are sinking. The world is caving in underneath you, and you are sinking. This is okay. Seventy-four, seventy-three, seventy-two… The rivers flowing through you could drown stars. You are rapids and you are shallow creeks, you are pouring from the walls, nothing can hold you. Fifty, forty-nine, forty-eight… Fires burn inside your bones and your shakes of laughter make the flames dance. You are warmth and you are light, somewhere there is someone searching for you among the clouds. Thirty-two, thirty-one, thirty… There is nothing tethering you here except your own will. You could float away, lazy and weightless. Nothing can hold you. Twenty-six, twenty-five, twenty-four… That swirling inside your belly is redemption, salvation. You are saved. You are saved. It doesn’t matter what from. Ten, nine, eight… You can count your fingers and toes, but can you quantify the endlessness stretching from your skin? Seven, six, five… There is nothing between you and the universe. Four, three, two… It is only wrapped in silence that you begin to listen, your ancient soul has been trying to whisper secrets to you for the longest time. One… When you lose your consciousness, where does it go?
mantras // j.d.k. (via fclklore)