has made my night

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If I could create some sort of magic thing, what would it be?

this was such a nice scene!!

anonymous asked:

alexander hamilton and alex hirsch have the same initials gASP

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26.01.17 | 4%

oops forgot to upload yesterday bc i accidentally took a four hour nap ;;; today’s post is this month’s bullet journal spreads as a goodbye to january! (also bc i haven’t done much aesthetically pleasing wok over the past couple days)

this month’s aesthetic was grey and i’m really pleased with all these spreads! i’ve also started tracking the amount of sleep i get each night as well as my savings which has made me so much more aware of my own habits

Look what I got today, my dudes

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okAY I NEED TO SCREAM ABOUT THESE TWO RN !! They were so kind and amazing, and I hadn’t expected them to actually pose for these but after accidentally kissing once (which i sadly missed ;;;), we asked them to do it again and just !!!!!! lOOK AT THEM !!

A+ cosplay, A+ people, just… it was so amazing and a spur of the moment and I’m so happy

These two made my night, and made my Katsucon weekend SO worth it. It was just… amazing. 12/10.

Cosplayers: @trashcandean && @magicaldragondetectives

Aaron Dingle is so so much stronger than people give him credit for.

Loneliness - Tom Wilson

A/N: This wasn’t requested. I’ve just been having a really stressful weeks and needed to write something that nobody had requested in case I wrote something really shitty. It is long, but I hope you like it xx.

Word count: 3333

Warnings: Anger. Swearing. Sadness.

Master list

Originally posted by hail-to-the-goalies


I turn around in bed, trying my best to get comfortable. The room isn’t cold, but my bones are freezing. The bed is huge, but I’m lying on the edge. I have everything I’ll ever need, and yet again I feel helpless. It is always the same; it is the same loneliness that hunts me every time Tom is away… And I’m not sure if it is worth it anymore.  There are days when I just want to run away, go back to my home and never look back,; but this is Tom’s dream, and if I love Tom, I need to learn to love his dreams just as much as I do him.

Jack jumps onto the bed and lies against my back, melting part of the ice inside of me. Getting Jack had been Tom’s idea so I wasn’t alone every time he was on a trip with the team, but the Australian Shepherd could not replace Tom. He was a good boy nevertheless.

“Hi, buddy.” I whisper, turning around to pet his fluffy head.

Jack has learnt to sense my mood, because he lifts his head and licks my hand, making me smile for the first time today.

“You are the best boy in Washington DC.” I say to him and he picks up his ears, turning his head and looking overall adorable.

I’m whispering, even though that I’m alone in the apartment and no one would care if I scream, but after spending the whole day quiet I don’t think that I can make myself to speak any louder. I spend another hour turning around and petting Jack until I fall into a tormented sleep where I’m alone and I can’t escape my own demons.

Waking up in an empty bed is just as bad as going to sleep alone, so I roll off of it as soon as I open my eyes. I walk towards to the kitchen, the wooden floor cold against my bare feet, and start making coffee when I hear the front door opening.

“Hello?” Tom’s voice is loud and I wish I could just cover my ears.

“Hey.” I answer him, my voice much calmer than his while I keep working on making coffees for both of us now.

“Hello, beautiful.” His voice is about to burst my eardrums when he walks in the kitchen.

I don’t say anything and I keep working on the coffees, pouring almond milk and hazelnut syrup on mine, and a sugar in his black coffee. I hand him the mug and turn around to face him. He is as handsome as always; his hair is messy and his blue eyes are bright.

“Hi.” I just say, and I try to give him a small smile, but it comes like more of a grimace than a smile.

He doesn’t seem to notice, because he leans in and kisses the corner of my mouth softly. I don’t know why this time is different, but I can’t pretend that I’ve been okay this time, so I just look down and wrap my hands around my cup seeking the warmth of the beverage.

“Where is Jack?” He wonders, looking around for our little rascal.

“He was still sleeping when I woke up.” I explain to him and he huffs. “Jack, dad is home!” I call out for him and seconds later we hear the four paws running through the hall. Jack jumps around Tom, excitement clear in his pretty eyes.

I’ve always thought that Tom chose Jack because their eyes look the same; they go from icy blue to the color of a stormy sky, hitting every color in between. One of my favorite games is to name every color I see on Tom’s eyes; he finds it hilarious when I tell him that his eyes are ‘the color of the sky on a summer day when it is too hot to go out’ or ‘the color of a smurf’s butt”.

“Hello buddy, I’ve missed you.” Tom throws himself to the ground, not caring about the suit he is wearing.

I look at the way they play on the floor, Tom getting on his four and grunting and for a second I feel happy, but the feeling washes away when I remember that this is temporary, he is going to leave again.

“I’m taking a shower.” I say, walking to the bathroom and shutting the door.

I lean on the door, feeling my eyes sting for the first time in months. I stopped crying about this a long time ago, but today is an odd day and I let myself roll with it. I turn on the shower and undress myself, shivering when I step in, the water still a little cold. The more time I spend in the shower, the more my crying becomes sobbing and I end up struggling to breathe while I cry under the shower. I don’t even hear Tom coming in until I feel his hands around my wrists.

“Ey, ey, ey, what’s wrong?” He asks, using his finger to make me raise my head.

“Nothing.” I say, stepping away from him, hitting my back against the wall.

“Baby, you are sobbing.” He says, a hurt expression in his face and his shirt sticking to his body.

“I said that I’m fine.” I yell and I choke on my own screams.

“Then why are you crying?” He sounds mad now and I turn around, facing the wall and not him, resting my head on the tiles.

“Because I goddamn want to.” I fist my hands in frustration, punching the wall slowly.

“You know what, sweetheart, I can’t read your mind.” His voice is harsh now and I shiver. “So, you either tell me what’s wrong or you stop acting like your fish has died.”

“Or what?” I challenge him, turning around to look at him.

We hold each other’s gaze for what seems like centuries, neither of us wanting to give it up to the other, until Tom sighs and lifts his hand to punch the wall, just as I was doing, but with all his strength.

“For fuck sake, (y/n), talk to me.” He screams, but I don’t even flinch at his bloody knuckles or his cursing.

“I don’t want to talk, Tom.” I simply answer, turning off the shower, wrapping myself with a fluffy towel and walking out of the bathroom.

“Too bad, I do want to talk.” He follows me, leaning on the wall and looking at me getting dressed.

I ignore him, picking a pair of clean underwear, a pair of leggings and a cozy sweater from my wardrobe and putting them on. I take a deep breath, my eyes still stinging, and turn around to face him.

“Talk to me, please.” He begs and I break down.

I sit on the bed, burying my head on my hands. I’m crying again, but this time it isn’t sobbing, they are just quiet tears. The bed shifts next to me under Tom’s weight and I want to jerk away when he rubs circles onto my back.

“I can’t do this anymore.” I say in between hiccups. “I can’t pretend that I’m fine.”

“What is ‘this’?” He asks and I sigh, lifting my head up, my eyes red and my face soaked in tears.

“The loneliness.” I try to explain. “I can’t handle the distance. I can’t handle being alone. I stay awake at night, not being able to sleep because the bed is too big and too cold without you. I make two cups of coffee every morning, just to find yours on the counter realizing that you are not going to drink it. I don’t wash your shirts until the day before you are back because they smell like you. I see more of you on TV that actual real life.”

“Baby, you are not alone.” He tries to cut me off.

“Tom, I am alone all the time.” I wave my hands in front of me. “Yeah, I hang out with the girls, I go to work… but at the end of the day I’m alone here.”

“(y/n), I know that me being on the road sucks, but you have to understand that this is my job.” He states his case. “This has been everything I’ve ever wanted. This is my dre…”

“Your dream.” I finish the sentence for him. “And I understand that this is what you want.”

“Then what’s the problem?” He asks and I bury my hands in my hair, pulling from the roots.

“The problem is that I can’t do this anymore.” I whisper and he looks at me like I have just poured a bucket of icy water on his head. “But because I understand it is your dream I don’t want to make it difficult for you.”

“What does that mean?” He gets on his feet. “WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN?”

“What I want to say is that I won’t make it hard for you.” I tell him and I can see the rage showing in his face. “I’ll be gone by the time to get back from practice tonight.”

“So you are giving up on us?” His shirt is still wet and his hair is more of a mess while he runs his hands through his hair. “YOU ARE GIVING UP ON US, JUST LIKE THAT. WITHOUT TALKING. WITHOUT FIGHTING. DO YOU EVEN LOVE ME?”

“This isn’t about love. This isn’t about fighting. It is about both of us being happy.” I say. “You are happy playing hockey and I need to find what makes me happy.”

“You know what? Fuck it. Leave. Today. Now.” His voice is pure poison. “Get the fuck out of my house.” He spits, leaving the room and a few seconds later the house, slamming the front door.


The worst thing about the last week is that I don’t feel any worse than I did before. I’m still hurting, but nothing has really changed; Tom and I don’t see each other, and the only difference is that we don’t talk or text.

After Tom left I packed up as much stuff as I could fit in my car and left the apartment, leaving Jack behind. That’s probably what hurts the most; I’m completely on my own now. But it has taken me a couple days to find a nice apartment to move in and start moving on.

My day has been okay so far; that’s the thing, everyday was just okay. I just want to go to bed one day and feel like it hasn’t been a waste of twenty-four hours, so when my coworkers asked if I wanted to go out for drinks I said yes. The night has been fun, and my coworkers made me smile for the first time in what it seems like forever, so the idea of going back to my apartment wasn’t really appealing.

“C’mon girl, you can do this.” I encourage myself. I need to stop wiping and start moving on.

The doors of the elevator open and I take my heels off, stepping on the soft carpet of the hallway. I turn right and walk down the hall to my apartment when I see it, a figure sitting next to my door. This is Washington after all, so I hold my shoes so I can use the heel to defend myself if necessary and I start walking as quietly as I can towards the unknown figure.

“Tom?” I drop my shoes in disbelief, kneeling down so I can shake him awake. “Tom, what are you doing here?”

It takes him a moment to open his eyes, and when he does I wish he hadn’t; his normally bright and blue eyes are now puffy, bloodshot and grey, with no spark on them. My heart breaks in a thousand billion pieces just because how helpless he looks; Tom Wilson, who could punch his way out of every situation, looks helpless. He opens his mouth for a second but closes it as fast as he has opened it, not sure of what to say. I take that time to straight up, picking my shoes up and opening my bag, looking for my keys. If he isn’t going to talk I might as well just get inside and try to forget how grey his eyes are.

“(y/n), wait.” He says when I insert the key in the keyhole and unlock the door.

I lean on the door, trying to figure out if I want to open the door and get inside and leave Tom outside, both from my apartment of my life, or I want to listen what he has to say. Curiosity wins over common sense because, as my mom says to me all the time, common sense is the least common of the senses.

“Want a drink?” I ask, opening the door and pushing it wide open, inviting him in.

He gets on his feet fast, stumble and hitting the door frame with his shoulder and hissing. I shut the door when we are both in and I stand there, trying to figure out what to do next; what do you do when your boyfri… ex-boyfriend shows up on your door?

“I don’t really have that much to drink.” I confess, walking towards the kitchen and looking inside the fridge. “Beer, orange juice, milk and diet cok…”

“I can’t believe you don’t have diet coke.” Our voices overlap and we both chuckle. “Water is fine.”

I nod, taking a cup from the cupboard and filling it up with chilled water, neither cold nor warm, just as he likes it.

“Thank you.” He says, grabbing it from my hands, our fingers touching for a second.

We both walk around the couch and sit as far from the other as possible. The air is heavy, changed with electricity as both of us look everywhere but the other, neither of us wanting to break the silence. Tom drinks from his cup and I play with my own fingers, picking on a small piece of skin.

“Stop doing that.” He scolds me, giving me a warning look before realizing what he’s done and sinking even deeper in the couch. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s okay. You are right.” I say, putting my hands under my thighs so I can’t pick on my fingers anymore.

“So…” He starts and I look at him, seeing him struggle. “How have you been?”

“It’s been a busy week.” I don’t lie, my week has been busy as hell, but I don’t tell him how shitty it has been as well. “You?” I casually ask.

“Definitely busy.” He agrees, grabbing a coaster from the middle of the coffee table and puts it down so he can rest his drink on the table. “It’s a nice place.”

“It is. It was fully furnished, so moving it has been easy.” The conversation is light, just to fill up the empty space between us.

Tom nods, but doesn’t say anything else. He seems deep in thought and I don’t do anything to snap him off of it, so silence is the king of the room once more.

“I get it now.” I hear Tom’s voice from what it seems far away and I realize that I have spaced out as well.

“What do you get?” I ask, confused.

“What you said.” I raise an eyebrow, not understanding what he is saying and he sighs, frustrated. “The loneliness, feeling alone.”

“Oh, that.” I answer, not really knowing what to say. “It wasn’t that big of a de…”

“But it was, and I’m sorry.” It’s the first time that he is actually looking at me. “I’m sorry that I didn’t understand. I’m sorry that I didn’t listen. I’m sorry that I didn’t notice. I’ve spend a week by myself, just a week, and I felt like I was drowning the whole time.”

Words get stuck in my throat and tears are burning in my eyes, so the only thing I can do I look at his cloudy eyes and hope that he keeps talking.

“I know that I was a jerk, and I know that it is unfair of me to even ask, but I would love to have you back, baby.” He says, and he really looks like he’s taken a huge weight out of his shoulders.

I chew my bottom lip, my mind racing at a thousand miles per hour. I’ve missed him, I’d be lying to myself if I said I haven’t, but I’m not sure that love is enough to heal my shattered heart. I can’t go back to the way the things were before.

“I can’t…” My voice comes out as a whisper. “I can’t go back to the way things were before. I can’t go back to your place. I can’t go back to missing you, having everything reminding me of you.”

“But baby, I love you…” He starts, but I cut him off.

“And I love you too, so much it hurts.” I tell him. “That’s why I can’t do it anymore. Love isn’t supposed to hurt. Love is supposed to make my heart flutter, not break every time you aren’t around.”

Tom’s eyes are glossy and he covers his face with his hands to hide it.

“Come with me then. You won’t be alone.” He says, sounding defeated.

“That’s not how it works. We need to be okay when we are apart, and I’m not okay when you are gone.” I explain to him and he looks at me, tears falling down his cheek.

“I don’t know what to do or say to help you, (y/n).” He looks helpless again.

“I can’t miss you and see you everywhere.” I say, my voice breaking in the middle of the sentence. “I see you everywhere in your apartment.”

“Then don’t be in my apartment. Live here or there or wherever makes you happy. Find a way to miss me with your own terms. Take your time to try to figure out how you want to love me.” He sounds both passionate and defeated. “But don’t leave me.”

I look down at my hands and I feel the couch shift besides me, where Tom has moved. He grabs my hands from my lap and brings them to his lips, kissing my knuckles and my palms and my fingertips.

“Don’t leave me.” He repeats and I break down, sobbing onto his shoulder as he picks me up and puts me carefully on his lap, hugging me like I was a glass doll.

“I feel like I’m so selfish.” I say in between breaths.

“You are not selfish, princess.” He whispers, rubbing circles on my lower back. “You were lonely, and that’s my fault and my fault only.”

“Are you okay with me having my own place?” I ask, looking at his eyes so he can’t lie to me. “Not living together during the season… just until I can figure it out. I need a space that it’s just mine, where you aren’t everywhere.”

“I only see one problem…” I look at him, trying to figure out what’s wrong. “Jack.”

“He’ll go where I go.” I tell him, making it clear that I won’t accept no as an answer.

“But…” He starts complaining but stops when he sees my face expression. “Sure thing, baby. But make sure I see him at least once a week.”

“Of course, pretty eyes.” I tell him, wrapping my arms around his neck, looking at his now bright blue eyes. “We wouldn’t want your kid to forget your face.”

Tom runs a finger down my cheek, collecting the leftover tears.

“I love you.” He says, his forehead pressed against mine.

“I love you too.”

“I want you to feel like we are the couple your poetry books talk about.” He whispers, his lips getting closer to mine.

“We already are.” And our lips crash.