i've been waiting to post this forever

I said once that a home is just a grouping of objects, connected by a shared personal experience of time, which was just a fancy way of really just asking you to move in with me, and, um, and it worked but I wasn’t wrong, and I know now that a relationship is just a grouping of moments, connected by that same shared personal experience of time. what it means to make a life together is to take the experience of two different lives and choose to interpret them as a single shared narrative, so, in other words, changing the story about you, or the story about me, into the story about us. do you remember before the throat surgery when I sounded like this: “science is neat”? well, science is neat and I still believe that, but I know now that a lot of things are neat. having a quiet breakfast with another person is neat; calling someone over to experience a particularly noisy sunset is neat; this town is neat; night vale is neat; love is neat. love is- is very neat, actually and, um, and you are neat. that first night, when we sat on the trunk of my car and looked at the lights above the arby’s, when we got up to leave, I looked at you and I tried to think of how to say everything I was feeling, but I’ve never really been good at describing feelings, I’m only good at describing facts and love- love isn’t a fact, you know, love, it’s- it’s a hunch at first, and then later, it’s a series of decisions, a lifetime of decisions. that’s love and I didn’t- I didn’t know how to express that, and, so, I just said “I’m glad I decided to call you”, and now, um, tonight I say I’m glad again for this decision and all the decisions that will come every day after, which is to say, uh, scientifically speaking of course, speaking from the point of view of mere facts and logic and you know, um, what with this science and all, I just thought that it was time for us to make a life together.
—  Carlos the Scientist, Welcome to Night Vale, Episode 100 “Toast”

★ Underswap Brothers! ★

(Click for speed draw of this)  @mweshmallow

Walk With Me?

A/n: I’ve received a few different requests for an imagine about going to the beach with Shawn inspired by the recent pictures and videos. 


It’s been a long and exhausting tour so far, but Shawn finally has a couple of much deserved days off. You haven’t been with him for most of the tour, but since he had a few days off in Florida, you took some time off work and joined him on tour last week to spend time with him and end it on the beach together in Florida. After a busy week with Shawn on tour, you’re excited for a few days to just relax, and you can tell he is too. 

The second you arrive at the hotel room, you drop your bags and change into your swimsuit. Shawn knows you’ve been dying to go to the beach since it’s been a while since you’ve been in the ocean. Anytime you don’t go to the beach for a month or two it feels like an eternity since you grew up going practically every week. Shawn wastes no time changing into his swim shorts, not wanting to keep you waiting. You two head down to the beach outside the hotel and spot the rest of his team already lounging about. 

You’re pretty much the only girl around most of the time when you visit Shawn on tour, but you don’t mind. You watch the boys play like little kids at the beach for the first time, all the while laughing at their antics, and genuinely enjoying the company. You help Matt bury Shawn and Charlie in the sand, filming them as they free themselves and run into the water. 

You spend the afternoon swimming, playing spike ball, talking to fans, and playing in the sand. It’s been an amazing day so far, just being at the beach makes you feel at peace and re-energized. Seeing the happiness on Shawn’s face and the way he finally has time to relax is really all you need to feel completely content as well.

As the sun starts to set, Shawn’s crew begins getting ready to head up to their rooms, ready to be back inside after a nice long afternoon in the sun. You stand up, folding up your towel and pulling your dress back on, ready to follow the crowd back in. Shawn appears beside you. Resting his hand on your shoulder, he asks, “Wanna take a walk with me?”

A smile crosses your face as you intertwine your fingers with his. “Of course.”

You say goodbye to everyone, and begin walking down the beach hand in hand. There are hotels lining this particular beach, so there are a lot of other tourists lounging on the beach or playing in the water or sand. He squeezes your hand as you begin to walk, letting the waves lap at your feet.

You walk in silence for a few minutes, just enjoying each other’s company, knowing that there’s no need to fill the silence because just the other person’s presence is more than enough. You both make comments when something comes to mind, and you have small conversations along the way. You walk further than either of you intended to, but you were just enjoying being with each other, having time alone, and taking in the beautiful view.

The two of you walk and talk until you’re far past the row of hotels. The beach is mostly empty here because most people don’t want to walk this far, but neither of you minded or even noticed really. The sun setting has turned the sky a beautiful pink color. You sit down side by side on the sand, enjoying the sounds of the crashing waves. He wraps his arm around you, and you lean into him instinctively. You’re both staring at the sunset, waiting for the sun to disappear and the colors to fade from the sky leaving only darkness behind. But the truth is, you don’t want it to. If you could, you’d live in this moment forever. 


These matters, my most dread and dear sovereign, have deeply pierced me, to find after so many displeasures procured toward me since my unfortunate arrival here, and yet having received sundry comfortable and gracious letters from you, that now in the latter end of my dangers and travails, suffered only for your service, that your Majesty will be so easily incensed against me, and to condemn me even in the worst degrees, as may appear by the words of your heavy writing here set down, not altogether so hard as they be under your own hand. God defend I should live justly to deserve it; for the hope of my life hath been the favour of your Majesty; but what worse conceit can be imagined than to be careless, negligent and improvident in so weighty a place and service as your Majesty hath placed me; to cast away your people, and vainly to consume your treasure; to condemn magistrates and seek popularity; but my trust is, the Lord hath not quite cast me out of your grace, loving you, fearing you, and caring for you as much and as loyally as any subject, not in England alone but under heaven doth his prince. And therefore my prayer to God is to put in your heart to judge according to that he knoweth in my heart; and your Majesty graciously, princely and indifferently to hear my cause and weigh it according to the fact of my deserts. And will crave pardon that I thus boldly have sought to satisfy you upon the grievous conceit I found in your letter of me; lying more heavily at my heart than all the worldly griefs else could have done. And so in most humble and faithfullest manner kiss the feet of your sacred Majesty. (x)

“Munich 2012, all blue. Stadium blue, all signs blue, [decretation] was blue, the match programme - everything was dark blue… And we were watching the penalties - all penalties of Bayern, with the goalkeepers, and I said ‘Guys, look at this, everything’s blue, so  we don’t even have to watch it, because we’re gonna win!’”

Five years ago feels like just yesterday; (still) the only team in London to have an European trophy. 💙

So, I promised myself that I would make another one of these when I reached 500.  A moment for me to scream however because when I began, I never thought that I would make it this far both when it came to follower count or time.  But here I am three and a half years later with 500 followers.  I’m so glad that I’ve stuck around.  It’s amazing to be a part of a community where people have the same level of interest in culture and history as me.  I doubt I would be the same person as I am today if I didn’t have an outlet for the expression of my biggest hobbies/interests.

The Poland squad - I love you guys.  You’re probably my closest if not oldest friends on this site. I love all of our chats, all of our rps, and I look forward to keeping it up in the future.

{❀} @atobylotak -  Domi~ I really don’t know what I can say that can express what I’m thinking.  I love all of our threads, aus, plots, and chats (even when you don’t listen to me when I tell you to sleep 99% of the time).  I may even forgive you for all the times you made me cry at some point, but I’m not sure.  I love the complex relationship our muses have.  Feliks has become an essential part of Magda’s story and I don’t know what I would do without all of the development we’ve done over the years.  I look forward to everything else we will do and for the time when you finally get yourself off your island because I’m sorry but you have made me afraid to visit.

{❀} @nieokielznany - Kaj Kaj Kaj.  Ahhhh.  You are the person I have been following the longest and I am so happy for that.  I love everything you do with your muses and maybe even still look up to you.  I love just chatting with you as well!   But I also seriously appreciate all the help you’ve given me.  I can’t thank you enough.  Long story short, I’m so so glad that you decided to befriend this dork who is too interested in your country for her own good and even more glad that we were able to actually meet up not once but twice?  Like I would have never could have guessed that would happen when I first followed you and I hope we’ll be able to meet up again soon~

{❀}  @wolnosciwszechwiedza​ - And Mar! Thank you for listening to my rambling whether it be about history, an au, or character development. Thank you for the book recommendations, for the Polish movie nights (no really, thanks for watching wfas with me even though I got yelled at when it was over.  I don’t think I would have made it alone), for the times you helped me with various things, and just for our chats. You’re so great to talk to and I hope that we can have many more discussions about anything and everything in the future.  And I mean what I said I will find some way of meeting up in the next year…somehow. I’ll walk over the border if I have to.

A mix of people.  Old people, new people, those I admire, and those I’d love to rp with more and get to know better! -  (And maybe some ) You all have made my dash something I enjoy seeing regardless if we roleplay often or not.  Or not at all, though if that’s the case, we ought to do something to change that.  Just saying.

{❀} @anatomiist {❀} @annuitcoeptis {❀} @exsuperatus {❀}  @liachtaschta {❀} @hailcolumbia  {❀} @hetadrenna {❀}  @konigreich {❀} @latviju  {❀} @marching-man {❀} @mr-puffinwhisperer {❀} @nastoychivost {❀} @naszczescie {❀} @niesmiarotny {❀} @pennxllo {❀} @sebelitostivy {❀} @sprigxfthyme {❀} @theblackeagle {❀} @thoushallfadenothere​ {❀} 

Those who have been gone for a while but will remain in my memory with hopes that they may return some day -

{❀} @dzieditmeitas {❀}  @huszarium {❀} @snowflakesfallaroundus​  {❀}

Maybe this is a little unconventional, but an additional shout out to a couple of art blogs that I am following -  I know you’re not following me or anything, but I follow you and really, I think your works are amazing!  I love the way you portray nyo!poland in your respective artistic forms.  Most of all, I hope you don’t mind me reblogging everything related to her oops.  Please keep up the good work!

{❀}  @ask-nyopoland {❀} @vaniliaparker​ {❀}

I hope I didn’t forget anyone!  I tried to list people only once on their most active blog/the one I interact with the most (save the first few) to save space.  Gosh, I’d write a little paragraph for everyone because I love you all, but again space restraints.  Just know that I enjoy following everyone on my list I hope to form many more friendships in the future!  But thank you all of you for following me and for sticking around. I look forward to more fun and new memories.

~Zeby   💕


Anonymous submitted:

1. a Bachelor type show where Hope is the Bachelor and Lightning is a contestant because Serah/Fang convinced her to do it and the rest is history! 

RFA: I’m going to be a bit creative with this and try the Chinese If You Are the One format where there are 1 bachelor and 24 female contestants. The bachelor introduces himself in sections as the women deliberate over him and choose to keep their lights on (maintain interest) or turn them off (reject him). He gets to choose from the women who remain after the final round.

>Lightning: be bored.

“Why did you reject contestant number 3, Miss Farron?” The host asks, all smiles on his face and gesturing with his mic, no doubt hoping for another controversial comment from her.

“He won’t last two seconds against a proto behemoth,” she responds, rolling her eyes at the camera because she knows everyone is watching at home, “I’d sooner not have that kind of burden in my life.”

A few gasps in the crowd. The man looks just the right amount of wounded. She shifts her weight impatiently at her stand, glimpsing a sign in the crowd - does it say something along the lines of GO LIGHTNING FARRON, THE ICE QUEEN OF MY HEART? She won’t be surprised. Her crudeness has made her surprisingly popular, and Serah gushes constantly about the amount of fanmail she receives (and reads) on the behalf of her sister. Lightning doesn’t have the time for that kind of thing. Lightning would sooner not be here at all. Lightning’s only here because she lost a bet to Fang and she was getting a bit tired of Snow and Serah pestering her about her single status like five times every day.

I’m pretty sure the kind of man I’m interested in won’t be into these kinds of shows anyway, she thinks to herself, sullen, as the rejected man bows to the women and walks off the stage. I know I hate these kinds of things. It’s people like Serah and Vanille who worship them like religion.

“Let’s welcome our next contestant! Mr. Estheim, director of Academy Research, team alpha. 24. Born and raised in Palumpolum.”

Oh no, another boring one, she groans internally, balancing her weight awkwardly in her flowing rose dress. She hates wearing dresses for these shows, too. If only -

“Mr. Estheim!”

“Wait, is this the Hope Estheim?”

“Wasn’t he rumored to be in a relationship with the daughter of the Primarch?”

Lightning perks up ever so slightly. So he’s famous.

“Thank you for the introduction, Mr. Meng,” the man responds politely after the crowd has died down - his voice is strangely familiar somehow - and when he performs the customary preliminary scan of all the female contestants, Lightning notices that his gaze lingers on her for a second more than everyone else. Long enough for me to notice, but not anyone else. And he knows I only noticed because I’ve been trained in the Corps with minute reactions and quick assessments.

What has been his eye color? Green? Serah used to tease her about green-eyed boys when they were younger. Not that she hasn’t passed up plenty of them on this show.

“Let’s see the first segment,” the host announces, and Hope Estheim settles comfortably into his chair, seemingly completely unfazed by the stage. A few contestants have already declared for him.

The figure of the silver-haired man glides onto the screen, surrounded by a line of scientists and marching machines.

“I am a scientist. I have been fascinated by machinery and the inner workings of the world since a very young age, and I find it awarding to improve people’s lives through inventing new tools, structures, and ways of thinking. I was behind the overhaul of Eden’s transport system and also oversaw the construction of the new Academy headquarters.”

Respectable, Lightning muses, remembering the terrible traffic jams that used to plague Eden. But still boring.

“Lately I’ve been working on a prototype for a brand new Guardian Corps gunblade.” All eyes zoom to her, including the stage lights; she blinks, turns to Hope Estheim - and sees him sitting as calmly as ever in his seat, although there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Automatic target selection, the highest grades of precision and accuracy, as well as being foolproof - it will allow someone as inexperienced as me to match a veteran like Contestant Farron.”

“Well, Mr. Estheim,” the host takes his cue on a silver platter and turns to Estheim, “This is certainly a new development. Will we get to see you make a case for your claim, here on our show?”

She smashes her light. Estheim’s smug confidence is ticking her off. Who is he to challenge her? Plenty of men have thought themselves capable of taking her down a notch, put her into her place. This of all places is not where she’ll back down. “No one can beat me,” she hisses, “scientific cheats or no.”

“I do not speak of beat,” Estheim corrects, and suddenly his face is so soft that it catches her off guard, “I speak of match. But yes, sir, I would like to demonstrate the effectiveness of my invention. I have brought my prototype with me to the show today.”

The host smiles. “And we have brought you your gunblade, Miss Farron, just for this special occasion.”

She grits her teeth as she walks forward. Estheim doesn’t look like a marksman - he’s too lean, too polished, too pretty along the edges. She wonders if he’s ever seen real battle, felt anyone’s soul depart from under his hands. He’s always had it easy. One real obstacle and he will crumble. She raises her arm to aim, almost tempted to shoot the pillar next to him so as to get that stupid smile off of his face.

He isn’t smiling. His face is somber instead as he raises an opposing arm, a strength in his eyes that makes her blink in surprise. He knows, she realizes, and he’s practiced with this, too. “I lost my mother when I was fourteen,” he says evenly, to her and to her alone. “I’ve been looking for things worth protecting.”

She shoots to get the significance of his words out of her head. He shoots right after her.

The crowd is silent. She doesn’t look up. For the first time in her life, she’s afraid of having been defeated.

“Two 9.9s,” the host announces, and there’s something resembling victory in the elderly man’s eyes. Ah, yes, the ratings. “A perfect match.”

She can feel Estheim’s gaze on her. She’s failed her shot - she usually scores above a 10.5 - and she knows he’s capable of more than that, a 11 if he wanted. Perhaps a 11 even if he’s shooting with a normal gunblade. But he’s pulled back, chosen to match her instead. Why?

“I quit this show,” she blurts out, sheathing her blade and walking off the stage. In the shock that follows, no one chases after her.


“You were too harsh on Hope Estheim,” Serah admonishes, shoving a plate of fruit into her face. “It’s dead obvious that he’s head over heels over you.”

“Well, I don’t care,” she spits, crossing her arms together behind her back. It’s not completely true. She’d caught a glimpse of his face as she walked off and there had been a deep sadness there, a loneliness that hurt her where no previous male contestant had hurt her before. “He can sleep with his pile of guns and machines.”

The doorbell rings.

“You don’t have to - ah.” Serah’s annoyed voice suddenly stops as she answers the door. “Come in, please.”

She closes her eyes and hopes she can just take a quick nap.

“Miss Farron?” That voice speaks up behind her and she jumps, unsheathing the gunblade in under a second and pointing the tip of it at his nose. Hope Estheim is standing in front of her in the flesh, sweat on his brow and dark circles under his eyes, and he’s holding a huge package. “I, uh, wanted to apologize. I’m so sorry for what I did to you the other day. But I wanted you to have this.”

She stares at him as if he’s crazy. “What?” Serah has apparently already fled the scene. Damn those meddling younger sisters. “Why - ”

“A gunblade,” he says quietly, still catching his breath. “Fresh from the lab. But it’s not a prototype anymore. I’ve added a few more things, to take into consideration how your movements change when you’re anxious. But I just want you to have it. Because I don’t want you to get hurt anymore protecting children from monsters.”

She studies him. This time, he looks almost like a child, simply wanting to please. There’s an idealism in his eyes that she wants to punch out even as she wants to hold it in her raw palms. “That injury never happened.”

Frustration enters his face now exactly where she thought it would. “But - ”

“Thank you,” she says, and extends a hand out. He stares at her for a long time before taking it. “And my apologies to you, too. Let’s go find a shooting range.”

Writing a new fic like
  • 0 words: this idea is great! someone should write it! *I* will write it! it's going to be brilliant and everyone will adore it
  • 0-500 words: omg writing is so hard i’ve been writing for hours and the numbers never change why am i doing this
  • 500-2000 words: i know i just posted something else recently but clearly i've forgotten how to write in the meantime. this is all a disaster i should give up
  • 2000-3000 words: hey waiiiit wait did my characters just do that? where did that scene come from?? THIS IS AMAZING i'm so talented
  • 3000-4000 words: i just read a comment on someone else's fic and now i want to quit forever because my writing will never make anyone feel that way
  • 4000-5000 words: nah man this is actually awesome i'm in the zoooone everything's flowing this is going to be beautiful
  • 5000-6000 words: i'm still writing but i'm completely distracted by another idea i just had that would be wayyyy better
  • 50,000 words: what the hell happened



Y’all…this bitch has been radio silent since FOREVER!!

And now she thinks she can just come back, post some pics and I’ll forgive her???



Lord almighty, how anyone can look this amazing is beyond me!!


That’s my girl right there!!!