how things have changed

anonymous asked:

Does long term commitment (like, at least a few years?) matter in your decision to hire new people? Do you ever worry people may want to work with you as a stepping stone to other jobs, etc?

You can’t really ask that when you’re interviewing people and you never know how things will change after the fact. You just kinda have to try to get a read on them and see what their overall motivations are, I guess. But if someone was coming to me and being up front about the idea of going somewhere else, I’d probably look elsewhere.

01/01/15: you kiss me for the first time and tell me that your new year’s resolution was to become the man I knew you could be.

02/01/15: you take me to your favorite place in the hills and watch the sunset cast warm light over our small town.

03/01/15: I meet your mother for the first time, and as we’re looking through all of your baby pictures I realize that you have her smile.

04/01/15: we get into our first fight. something about the girl in our history class. it ends in cuddling and her deleted phone number.

05/01/15: you tell me you love me.

06/01/15: you give me a promise ring shaped like a knot. you tell me you will never leave me. I believe you.

07/01/15: you call me at 1a.m. because the hole in your chest is swallowing all of the light, and the sound of your voice rips me apart.

08/01/15: we go back to your favorite place in the hills and look at the stars.

09/01/15: you come to school with bloodshot eyes and dark bags. I ask you what’s wrong. you give me no answer.

10/01/15: we are at a party and i’m ready to leave. I search everywhere for you, but you have already left.

11/01/15: we haven’t spoken in two weeks.

12/01/15: you are gone.

01/01/16: I am sitting in my living room holding a half empty bottle and watching the ring catch light from the fireplace. I throw it into the flames and down the rest of the bottle’s contents.

—  how the seasons go by

I’m almost embarrassed to post this!
But it’s kind of cool to see progress.  

I kept redrawing this because I never liked the first draft, but it is just cool to see how things change over a year. (Obviously I never finished the second draft either)  Things that also changed from the first draft, me thinking Rey is a skywalker. 

If you are ever feeling stuck, remember, change is slow. Redraw an old piece and see the change yourself! 

Finished Art Here (x)

Ginny Weasley starts to judge everything by one standard.

“Could this be the worst thing that’s ever happened in my life?”

And the answer, of course, is always no.

Could going on a date be the worst thing ever in her life? Could she survive?

Of course. She picked up a journal once. It couldn’t be worse than that decision. And she survived that.

Could joining a secret underground army to defend against the rising evil be the worst decision ever? Would it kill her?

Of course not. She once wrote in her diary that she was in love with Harry Potter. It had responded with a dozen innocuous questions.

That had been far more dangerous than learning how to defend herself.

Could running away from school with a group of friends into unknown territory and no plan to fight the most feared wizard of her time kill her?

Yes. But he’d already tried once and she’d be damned if he ever succeeded. She knew what she was doing now. She was trained.

Once she’d tried to face him by herself, and he’d already had half her soul by then. This was nothing compared to that.

Could fighting in the final battle of a war that had waged since before she was born kill her? Would it be the worst decision she could make?

It would almost definitely kill her, but she couldn’t think of a better decision. This mattered. This was important.

She almost died once. Once, when the most important thing in her world was a boy she loved and a diary that understood her, she’d almost died just to be accepted.

This was far more important than that.

And so Ginny learns anything is possible if you have enough nerve.

She just hopes no one ever asks her where hers comes from.

Lil redraw of one of the doodles I did back in 2015 for @farbsturz‘s fic~

I had to find the post for reference for something and couldn't leave without fixing at least one of the doodles….

isn’t it kinda weird??? how people don’t pick up on details??? and freak out over smallest things???
like people don’t notice how the other persons voice goes higher or lower during a convo and doesn’t start freaking out over them hating you?
and people don’t notice how others can start texting shorter replies in a less enthusiastic way and they don’t actually start hyperventilating when it happens?
i wonder what that’s like tbh not to be paranoid over every little thing and how it is not to have breakdowns over the smallest changes in someone’s voice or facial expressions or even the frequency of their texting
imagine what a simple life these people must have

“That’s adorable, you came to college with a boyfriend from back home” he said smiling at the ceiling. We lay there, intertwined in each other carefully considering our next words.

“I know, I was ignorant. I thought I was in control and believed he was still interested in me. He wasn’t some insignificant relationship, it was two years of intense passion that never faltered while we were within a 15 minute drive of each other” I explained.

“Yet here you are, with me in my bed. How things have changed.”

—  Excerpt from a book I will never write #1221 // valentines day // no matter where I go or who I talk to, I always end up brining you up in the conversation as if you are still involved in my life // excerptsofstories
Guzma wakes from a nightmare. Plumeria looks after him for a while.
By Organization for Transformative Works

Guzma jolts awake in a swath of sweat to find Plumeria squeezing his hand.

It’s dark, but he can still discern the familiar shape of her face swimming amongst the stilled shadows. Her hair has been let down, waterfalling over her shoulders in whorls of pink and yellow to frame high cheekbones. She sits beside him over the blankets, her brow crinkled in pointed concern, and for a moment in the last gasps of the steeping haze that was his nightmare, she looks like someone he’d rather not see.

“Hey.” Her voice is soft, mellow, considerate, and nothing at all like Lusamine’s. “You okay?”


so i think about Soul a lot, ergo I think about the GIANT ABDOMINAL INJURY he acquired and how it would probably take at LEAST a month of intense home care and frequent check ups to make sure the paper cut that expands half his body isnt getting infected or creating scar tissue that might impede the function of some of his more important organs (cough HIS HEART cough) and how simple tasks like bending over or running would become 40% more painful and difficult to pull off

and how much more domestic help he’ll need from his partner


Idk how to take selfies anymore
(she/they - pls dont call me a girl/lady/woman/female thankz)

anonymous asked:

What do you think Rick meant when he kept saying 'I pushed it'?

I think he meant he pushed the limits of what they could do, he and Michonne, together. The limits of what was safe for them, or namely, what was safe for Michonne. You know, it’s been a long time since we’ve seen the two of them in action together, so this was well over due; but it was fraught with danger. It was something they didn’t necessarily have to do, yet he said they should.

He looked somewhat shocked and in disbelief after they completed the task; like he realised how huge a feat it actually was. How close he and Michonne had come to being taken down by the rest of the herd. How much danger Michonne was actually in from his suggestion.

Things have changed for them. Not in a way that them being a couple impedes the mission or the safety of others, but there is an added level of fear there for them, especially Rick.

He’s out here making calls that puts the woman he loves in the path of direct danger. He had to process that in the aftermath of that epic walker kill. Luckily, she was there for him to reassure him. His tearful statement, “I’m not losing you” and the visage of him holding her hair in the RV came to my mind as I watched him think about what they had just done.

Michonne was like, “Hell yes! We did it!”

Rick was like, “What the hell was I thinking? I could’ve lost her!”

Knowing what type of person Rick is makes me think that’s what his words meant. He knows Michonne is capable, but he also knows what it feels like to be afraid of losing her. And Michonne knew this too. She was right there rubbing his shoulder and telling him it was okay; that they had made it. That they could make it.