a$sap

7

So a little story here…

Mary Dias (soon to be Swift) is my best friend. She literally has made me feel incredibly special every single birthday. She takes care of things with her incredible planning and charts (her charts are so damn thorough everyone should be impressed). 

She knows what you will love before you even know it sometimes. She is my go to skin-care and makeup guru. Some days we argue, but deep down she is my go to for literally everything. I don’t know what my life would be without her and I am so incredibly grateful to you @taylorswift for bringing her into my life. 

I don’t think I can ever really truly explain what she means to me. 

Thank you Taylor, for bringing this insanely wonderful, powerful woman into my life.

Also you should know, she’s getting married next year (8/11/18) and it’s to a SWIFT! I mean you probably aren’t related to Alex, but he’s a great guy you would love. 

Anyway I just wanted to shout out my best friend @poppoeticparty, life wouldn’t be the same without you. 

Taylor, thank you truly. 

i’d written a bit of the hra epilogue already, a few chapters ago, but today i sat down to work on it and realized it’s the last leg of the story and i’m already having a lot of emotions, if not purely because this is the first multi-chapter i’m going to finish and that just means a lot to me and

anyway. the point of this post was to say hope to have the epilogue up sometime this week

9

Art of May!!! (ok I couldn’t put them all on one post because it was starting to be really too much ^^’)

Painted on PS [2017.05]

It was a really good month, I experimented a lot and had so much fun. Also I want to particularly thank all of you for your supports, your likes, reblogs, comments, tags and messages. I am sooo overwhelmed and I feel so blessed by all of you and yup Thank you guys, you are amazing and I am so lucky!!  Have a really really beautiful day <3 <3

May // June // July pt 1 // July pt 2 //

  • Harry, reading his 37th birthday card from Draco: 'Happy Birthday, Grandpa. It's better to be over the hill...'
  • Harry, opening the card: '...than buried under it.'
  • Draco: and I meant every word.
  • Harry, trying not to cry: It's alright, I guess

can we take a sec to talk abt everything green day stands for:
anti racism anti homophobic anti sexism anti nazi anti trump

billie joe, every 👏🏼 concert 👏🏼, will go on for minutes at a time chanting, screaming these things. he makes it so loud, so evident & clear what he stands for & what the band stans for & what the fans stand for.

god it makes me so happy that louis loves this band

Dean squeezes Cas’s hand a little as he points out a shooting star that zips by. They’re lying on their backs on top of the impala in the middle of a desert strip.

“Alright, Cas, you win,” Dean says, sighing deeper into a sense of comfort and calm. “This isn’t too bad.It was a good idea.”

He can see Cas smiling in that way that makes his eyes crinkle as he pulls Dean closer, kissing him on the forehead.

Dean blushes.

“What is it with angels and stars, anyway? You’d think you’ve had enough of the skies for a lifetime. Hell knows I’d be happy if I never got on a plane again.”

Dean smirks. “Literally. Hell knows.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “I knew what you meant, Dean.”

Another star pummels through the sky in a curved arc, appearing and disappearing in a flash.

“Really, though,” he continues. “Why?”

Cas sighs, looking as if he’s struggling to accept the fact that Dean is unwilling to let it go.

“It’s…” Cas starts, uncomfortably, “kind of personal.”

Slowly, Dean nods. Cas can have his secrets if he needs to.

“Ok. No biggie,” he shrugs while trying to avoid the curious itch in his brain.

But Cas looks torn, anyway. Even if Dean isn’t going to push it, suddenly it seems like he’s contemplating it.

“I want to tell you, but it’s going to sound kind of strange.”

Dean, cocking an eyebrow:

“Try me.”

Cas bites his lip.

“When I pulled you from hell…” Cas starts reluctantly, “I put you back together again.”

Dean waits for Cas to continue. He knows this, but somehow it’s still strange to hear it out loud. Strange to think about. He nods.

But, Cas has a half smile and his hand is getting slightly tighter in Dean’s as he talks.

“Well,” he says. “Humans are made of atoms and matter. Cells. Water. Dust.”

Dean squints, looking down at his own skin, feeling goosbumps prickling.

Cas sits up on the Car, glancing down at Dean as if he were a fond memory.

“You’re made of comets and stardust,” he says proudly with a smile. “I put bits of the stars inside you. So, the sky doesn’t really make me think of heaven. It makes me think of you.”

Dean sits up, too, squinting.

“Cas,” he says. “That’s… kind of a weird thought.” He smirks, “and a little bit sappy…”

Letting go of Dean’s hand, Cas turns away, looking frustrated.

Dean glances again at his arm, wondering suddenly about the patch of freckles near the elbow that reminds him of a constellation.

He smiles.

With his thumb, Dean reaches out, running it along Cas’s jaw, pulling his boyfriend’s annoyed gaze back to him.

“You make me think of heaven, too,” Dean finally whispers. “Not the real, nightmare one. But the one where it’s you and me under the stars and the cold metal of the impala underneath us. And I get to hold your hand for as long as I want.”

Cas squints. “You’re talking about right now,” he says.

“I’m talking about right now,” Dean confirms.

Cas’s smile is shy and perfect, and there’s another shooting star over the tip of his left shoulder.

“I can live with that,” Cas says.

Dean pulls Cas in for a deep, long kiss, his thumb still perched under Cas’s chin.

“Mia piccola stella,” Cas says with a smile when they pull apart.

Dean makes a face.

“My little star,” Cas says, proudly.

Dean smirks, and doesn’t even call his boyfriend a sap again as they tangle themselves back into each other’s arms to watch the meteor shower. Instead, Dean returns the forehead kiss grabbing Cas’s hand again..

“This was a good idea,” he says, and Cas squeezes his hand back.

It was three days into their stay in Thailand when Yuuri finally woke up earlier than Viktor.

He savoured those times, they happened so rarely. Viktor was often out of bed before Yuuri had even started to stir. Like this he had unimpeded time to study the small flutters of his eyelashes, the slight furrow on his brow that disappeared when Yuuri ran a comforting hand down his side, how his arms tightened around Yuuri when he shifted to keep him in place.

He could never look enough. No matter how much, how often, it would never be enough. Gently, still careful about not waking him, he ran the tips of his fingers from the cut of his jaw, the graceful line of his neck, and over his shoulders before pausing. Viktor sighed. Accent thicker from having just woken up, he asked, “I was enjoying that. Why did you stop?”

Yuuri didn’t answer, still staring at the skin of his shoulders. “Yuuri?”

“You have freckles,” he said, hearing the quiet awe in his voice.

Viktor took his right hand where it was motionless on his shoulder and kissed it, his eyes sliding shut again. “Mm. Only if I’ve been in the sun too long.”

He was saying it so casually, as if it wasn’t one of the best things Yuuri had ever learnt. Granted, he thought that of most mundane things he learnt about Viktor, but it wasn’t as if he wanted to stop. He considered kissing them all one by one, even if there were so many it would probably take hours. Reluctantly settling for around ten instead, he mumbled “I love them,” against another few. Viktor’s chest was shaking, probably laughing at his little display, but looking so delighted when Yuuri met his eyes that he couldn’t complain.