afternoon silence

The Signs As Vacations
  • because fuck it.
  • Aries: A family trip to the beach, a rainbow of umbrellas and towels all the way down, the smell of sunscreen, burying your dad in the sand, shrieking and running from the waves
  • Taurus: A resort vacation in Mexico, packed with young honeymooners and energetic families. Overpriced drinks and half-understood conversations in Spanish, the awe of a sunrise over the water.
  • Gemini: A budget motel stay with your parents, playing Pokémon on your Gameboy in the backseat, jumping on the squeaky beds, breakfast at Denny's, laying down in the backseat of the car
  • Cancer: A fishing trip in the open ocean, long lazy afternoons spent in comfortable silence, your arms tanning in the sun as the boat rocks in the water.
  • Leo: A rafting trip with your best friends, lazily drifting downstream, cracking open a cold can from the cooler, laughter echoing over the water
  • Virgo: A tough hiking trip, warm water tipped from the canteen, feeling your leg muscles burn as you force yourself up the steep path, sweat and panting and the triumph of standing at the top.
  • Libra: A skiing trip with your family, cupping your hands over your cold nose, feeling the ski lift sweep your legs out from under you, that first sip of hot cocoa after a long, cold day in the snow
  • Scorpio: A long summer road trip through the American Northwest, cruising through dark green forests and mysterious mountain passes, bare feet on the dashboard, sharing secrets and favorite songs
  • Sagittarius: A fast-paced backpacking trip across Europe, only a few dollars in your pocket, sleeping in hostels, grinning though the dust on your face
  • Capricorn: A Mediterranean cruise, licking olive juice off your fingers, dancing with a different stranger every night, white buildings shimmering on a hill
  • Aquarius: A summer camping trip, eating cereal out of little boxes, wading in the river, crawling into your tent, telling ghost stories while you make s'mores
  • Pisces: Joyfully driving your car off the Grand Coulee Dam
The Signs As Vacations!

because fuck it.
Aries: A family trip to the beach, a rainbow of umbrellas and towels all the way down, the smell of sunscreen, burying your dad in the sand, shrieking and running from the waves

Taurus: A resort vacation in Mexico, packed with young honeymooners and energetic families. Overpriced drinks and half-understood conversations in Spanish, the awe of a sunrise over the water.

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Try - Erik Lehnsherr One Shot

Originally posted by theinsatiablevoid

Erik let out a loud sigh, flopping down on the couch beside you. You cuddled into his side, resting your head on his shoulder while Erik wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

“He’s good, Charles, he really gets it out of you.” He said thoughtfully, tracing lines on your arm softly. It tickled but was also relaxing.

“It’s exhausting though.” You murmured.

“Yes. That’s true.” He nodded. 

“I’m definitely exhausted.” Erik said, lying back on the couch flat and pulling you gently with him.

You laughed slightly, resting your head on his chest. His heartbeat was steady and soothing which, accompanied by his finger tracing on your arm and the peaceful afternoon silence lulled you into a state of relaxation.

“Are you alright?” Erik whispered, checking, like always, that you were okay.

“I’m fine Erik.” you said, breathing slowly, “How are you?” You tilted your head back to look at him.

“Better now.” He said, pressing his lips to your forehead, gently, not pulling away too fast. You smiled, lifting your arm to touch his cheek gently.

“I love you.” You whispered.

“I love you too, (Y/n). I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.”

“Then don’t lose me.”

He smiled, tracing on your arm thoughtfully.

“What if I can’t help it?” 

“Well, with both of us trying desperately not to lose the other, we should be fine.”

Erik’s heart rate quickened under your head and you squeezed his hand gently.

“Sometimes just trying isn’t enough, (Y/n).” He murmured, not making eye contact with you.

Glancing back down at you, your head rested comfortably on his chest, his arms around you, your hand on his cheek, he smiled.

“I will do everything in my power not to lose you, I promise.” He said.

You propped yourself up on one elbow, turning around to kiss him gently. Your lips lingered against his before pulling away. Erik leaned up towards you, not wanting to part.


It’s snowing.
For the love of love,
Of all things, snow.

And it reminded me of you,
And your childish soul,
And everything I love about it.

This is what mother nature gives to me
In my last moments of hope,
She gives me you

I used to love the snow
I loved it as much as you do
But then that blew away, with my childish wonder too.

And maybe I’ll love the snow again,
Because it reminded me of you, and I love you,
I swear I do

I’ll love fall,
And tangled hair,
And silence
And afternoons

god dammit, I’ll love everything I’ve ever hated
Because you love them,
And I love you
And because of your existence I can’t see straight anyways
and everything’s a blur
And good lord,
I can’t see the world in shadows anymore
Because you’re a light
A light that no one else can see
And yes,
Love is blind,
But I’ve never seen so many things

I loved the snow for you
Do you think,
Just maybe,
You could love me too?

—  Winter Isn’t Made of Dead Things, from my collection of silly love poems

Andreil naps though.

  • Super lazy weekends, like the Sunday they return from an away game and they won and they partied just a bit too hard the night before. 
  • There’s the soft, afternoon light and silence because everyone else is either recovering as well or out.
  • Andrew comes back from a smoke break on the roof to find Neil napping in his bed.
  • (you’re damn right he takes a picture because his boyfriend is adorable)
  • He sits on the edge and just stares at him for a moment-thinking through it all, processing- when Neil wakes up letting out a slurred “sorry, I fell asleep”
  • And Andrews just like “shut it Josten, go back to sleep.”
  • And Neil hooks a finger in his shirt with a sleepy “only if you join me.”
  • Andrew grumbles about the line but moves anyway.
  • And since Neil’s partially awake now, Andrew doesn’t mind climbing over him to get comfortable so his back is facing the wall.
  • And he just quietly exhales,releasing the tension in his body and Neil gives a happy hum of approval before closing his eyes and then he’s out.
  • It takes Andrew a bit longer to fall asleep but he eventually does after counting Neil’s breaths. 
  • Neil wakes first and of course stares at Andrew, who doesn’t even have to open his eyes to know that Neil’s staring and he calls him out on it.
  • “You were asleep, it doesn’t count.”
  • “It counts and I hate you.”
  • “Ok and Neil just lightly kisses the inside of Andrew’s palm and goes right back to admiring his bf before Kevin barges in to go over game play with Neil and Andrew throws a pillow at him (maybe two) and it earns a “what the fuck Andrew?”
  • “You’re supposed to knock.”

A car was coming up a dirt road
toward the farmhouse. A dusty battered
old Buick. The motor died into silence,
“Afternoon,” the man nodded, as he climbed out
he was middle aged, a plump red-faced man
perspiring freely as he crossed the dry ground
toward the porch.

Golden hair, skin, a light down of gold fuzz
on his bare arms and legs
a golden statue in the mid-day,
“Hey!” He said, “What do you want?”

“Maybe you can help me.
For twenty-five years I have been sitting here
please, my friend, I am getting old.
I am not a practical man…
What do you want from me?”


The man shuddered.

They were curled up together on a Sunday afternoon, each reading a book, their arms just touching and their legs weaved together. He would occasionally lose focus on his book to twirl her hair through his fingers as she completely immersed herself in the written world in front of her. Other times she would come out of a trance, just to glance up at the boy who had besotted her heart, to see how his eyebrows crinkled in concentration at the next adventure his character went on. Both of them were happy to be silent, in fact neither wanted to break it. The afternoon had encompassed them in a lazy bubble where they were just happy to enjoy each other’s company as they both lost themselves in the world of make belief. A little space of heaven wrapped up in a comfortable silence.
—  Comfortable Silence - IKM

I had been lying on my bed in utter silence. The afternoon continued, but I felt frozen in time, waiting for his texts. I was ashamed that I allowed myself to wait on a boy like this, but I secretly loved rebelling against my own self. My phone rang with a notification. It was him.

“I’m sorry I fell asleep,” he said.

I could never let him apologize for what really what his fault. “It’s okay, you need sleep,” I replied.

In a heartbeat, he stole mine away. “No, I need you.”

Fuzzy feeling in my head, butterflies in my stomach. He didn’t know, but like in all love stories, the one needs the other more than the other needs the one. He didn’t need me the way I needed him.

But it was okay.

—  excerpt from a book I’ll never write #1 / holyveins

Thank you my lifelong afternoon
late in this season of no age
thank you for my windows above the rivers
thank you for the true love you brought me to
when it was time at last and for words
that come out of silence and take me by surprise
and have carried me through the clear day
without once turning to look at me
thank you whole body and hand and eye
thank you for sights and moments known
only to me who will not see them again
except in my mind’s eye where they have not changed
thank you for showing me the morning stars

W.S. Merwin, from “Variation on a Theme,” in The Moon Before Morning (Copper Canyon Press, 2014)

Patricio Molina. Born in Mexico City in 1973. My fascination to create images comes from a constant impulse to find aesthetics, forms and symmetries in what I see. Then capture and transform them to reflect a personal meaning.

This picture comes from a collection called:  Childish Obsessions about objects at Grandfaher’s workshop. Is a personal encounter with my past experience when I used to be at my grandpa workshop for many, many afternoons in silence. Those moments allow me to observe all the things, tools and machines making me imaging all sort of things and also making me a little bit obsessed of what I can not touch and use.

Other work:

Imagen de la semana:

Retrato de Familia:

#191: eyelashes

Mark: The last thing you wanted to do this morning was get out of bed, but you couldn’t ignore Mark popping up from behind your phone, batting his eyelashes at you. You already knew what he wanted. “Breakfast, pleaaaaase?” he whines, and the batting of his lashes grows faster. He grins, now, making sure to make his cutest face at you. “Fine,” you grumble, rolling out of bed, and he jumps out of bed, too, and runs to hug you from behind. “Loove yoooou,” he says in a sing-song voice.

Junior: Your eyelashes were one of his favourite things about you. Sunny afternoons were spent in silence on the couch with your head in his lap and a book in his, and sometimes when he needed a little breather, he’d look down at you to see the way your eyelashes looked from this angle… And then he’d smile, going back to his book and making a mental note in his head to remember this feeling.

JB: You can tell when he’s awake because he always falls asleep randomly on you (usually halfway through a conversation or something), and so when he wakes up, you can feel his lashes batting your arm or cheek or chest lightly enough. Most of the time you were awake before him, but this was like a little alarm clock in itself. His lashes flutter on your arm, today, and then immediately afterwards he groans, sitting up, running his fingers through his hair as he sees you.

Jackson: He hates it when you cry, so his hand meets your face and then his thumb gently grazes over your eye, feeling your soft eyelashes as he wipes the tears away from your face. “Don’t cry,” he whispers, smiling at you and you choke up just a little bit, letting yourself chuckle, too, because now he was making a stupidly funny face at you. He chuckles, pulling in your head to kiss you right where another tear rolled down your cheek.

BamBam: Your eyelashes were like a game to him - he’d make you bat them as he stood there, staring at them with wide eyes and then reaching up his finger slowly to touch them…. “What are you doing!” you say, laughing as you swat his hand away. You cover your eye with your hand. “But it looks so soft,” he muses, still staring. Then he’d reach up one more time, and this time you let him (he was so cute omg). 

Youngjae: Your eyelashes was the first thing he noticed about you. You kept batting your lashes whenever your head would slowly start nodding down to sleep as the teacher droned on and on. He’d never seen you before - were you new? Or was it because he was new? He wasn’t sure. But you were cute, he thought, especially since you were falling asleep.. and the thought of all the ways he could talk to you after class so he could see you batting your lashes at him again as he offers you his notes or something.. “Hey, do you want to study together sometime…”

Yugyeom: He always stared at your eyelashes. When you talked, when you closed your eyes slowly before you went to bed, when you laughed and they’d sort of curl upwards… his grins widely, watching you laugh at some stupid video as he throws his arm lazily around you. You look up at him, a smile still planted on your face and eyelashes framing your eyes… he looks down at you, scrunching his nose cutely reminding himself how lucky he was.

Alejandro had been lounging on his couch for a while one afternoon, reading in silence when he noticed someone walking into his room. After all, he’d left the door open, merely because he didn’t feel like closing off and being alone but he wanted to relax a little anyways.

“I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps. I hunger for your sleek laugh, your hands the color of a savage harvest, hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails, I want to eat your skin like a whole almond. I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body, the sovereign nose of your arrogant face, I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes, and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight, hunting for you, for your hot heart, Like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.”

He read the passage out loud dramatically, gesturing with one of his hands and letting out a deep, exaggerated sigh before he closed his book and laughed, looking over at the person who’d entered. “Don’t get me wrong. I love nothing more than poetry but I think there are more romantic things to say to someone,” he joked lightheartedly, shrugging. “Anyways - is there anything I can help you with? Or why are you here?”