december 31st, 2015, 10:23 pm: i saw you for the first time. you were talking to a girl and i could tell that you were capturing her with every syllable that left your mouth. and i knew why: you were beautiful and bright, and i was drawn to you even then, like the planets are drawn to the sun.
december 31st, 2015, 11:58 pm: we met standing in line for the bathroom. you introduced yourself, and asked for my name, smiling when i gave it. “lovely,” you murmured, and repeated it a few more times, rolling the letters around in your mouth like a new food.
january 1st, 2016, 12:05 am: i could still feel you on me, your lips, minutes, hours, months later. the clock had struck midnight and you just grabbed me, didn’t ask if it was okay until it was over. you were laughing, brushing it off, all teeth and well-kissed lips, but i knew i saw you blushing.
january 21st, 2016, 1:12 pm: you got my number through the mutual friend that threw the party. i still don’t know how you got my address. i didn’t remember telling you. you couldn’t tell me, either.
february 14th, 2016, 9:12 pm: you took me out to dinner and bought me chocolate and roses. it was all so cliche, and i loved every second of it. when you kissed me good night, i swore i could feel the rest of my life, pressed right up against my lips.
february 26th, 2016, 11:33 pm: we made it official. i remember how you asked me, how shy you got, like you didn’t know what the answer would be.
march 17th, 2016, 5:43 pm: we spent the day at the saint patrick’s day parade, and you filled yourself with beer and kissed me hard against the bar bathroom door. i drove you home and that was the first time you told me you loved me.
march 18th, 2016, 9:24 am: you called me and told me you loved me again. “i want to make sure that you know i still mean it when i’m sober,” you said.
march 24th, 2016, 1:09 pm: i met your parents at easter brunch. you had demanded i come with you, and i was glad i did. your mother was kind and beautiful, and your father was warm and handsome, just like i knew they’d be. after we’d eaten, your mother got me alone. “he’s never brought a girl home before,” she told me, “normally he isn’t very open about who he’s dating. but you, you’re different. don’t read into this, but i think he may really think you’re special.”
april 12th, 2016, 8:31 pm: you saw me naked for the first time, and you kissed every inch of my skin. i’d never felt that much love from anybody before that night, and i haven’t since. not even you could replicate those few hours.
may 5th, 2016, 4:57 pm: we fought for the first time. i ran into my ex at the grocery store and wanted to chat for a few minutes. you didn’t. when we got in the car, you told me that if i was still in love with somebody else i could just leave, and i told you that you should trust me and not be so insecure about our relationship. we screamed the whole way home and you slammed the car door when i dropped you off. i almost crashed three times on the drive home.
may 6th, 2016, 8:03 am: you came by with flowers and breakfast. “I’m sorry,” you told me, “you just mean so much to me, and the thought of you ever being anyone else’s makes me sick.” i smiled, “but you don’t have to worry about that now. i’m yours.”
june 16th, 2016, 10:51 pm: for my birthday you took me out to dinner and gave me a beautiful necklace with a silver chain and pearl pendant. we drank expensive wine and stumbled back to my place and fucked. i had never been fucked before, not like this. i woke up the next morning with bite marks on my neck and hickeys all the way down my stomach, but you were gone. “had to run,” you’d written on a post it note, “i love you.”
june 18th, 2016, 2: 41 pm: i hadn’t seen you since my birthday and you weren’t picking up when i’d call.
june 19th, 2016, 3:13 am: “ had to run,” the post it note had said. maybe you were running from me. i couldn’t tell if it was the 3 am darkness talking or the part of me that already knew.
july 1st, 2016, 4:01 am: i looked over at you, sleeping in the darkness beside me. when we were together, things felt perfectly normal. but now, i could feel the shifts. “are we falling apart?” i whispered to you, and although i hadn’t expected an answer, the silence broke my heart all the same.
july 4th, 2016, 6:47 pm: we were at a barbecue and i saw you across the crowd, talking to a girl. i saw the way she was drinking up every word that escaped from between your lips, and that’s when i knew. that’s when i knew you weren’t mine anymore.
july 21st, 2016, 7:08 pm: i brought it up to you. “i think we’re starting to grow apart,” i said, “there’s a distance between us that wasn’t here before.” you reassured me that it was all in my head, but i didn’t hear it in your voice. i didn’t see it in your eyes. you knew it was there, too, but unlike me, you weren’t trying to do anything to stop it.
august 10th, 2016, 11:37 pm: i lay awake and thought about what your mother said, all these months later. “don’t read into this.” but of course i did. i couldn’t help myself. fuck, i loved you so much.
august 15th, 2016, 1:12 pm: you invited me over and i discovered that the key you’d given me no longer worked. “i had the locks changed,” you said, “i’ll get you a new one.” it was a lie, and i knew it. you didn’t get me a new key.
september 8th, 2016, 2:00 pm: i caught you cheating. in a desperate attempt to revive the romance we’d had at the beginning of our relationship, i bought dinner and brought it to your place. when you finally opened the door, i saw it written all over your face; the way your eyes widened, the way your jaw dropped, the way your cheeks drained of color. i heard it in the stammer of your voice, the sharp intake of your breath, the grinding of your teeth. when the girl walked up behind you, half naked, asking who it was at the door, i already knew. “how could you?” i whispered, and you just opened and closed your mouth. the girl pieced it together and started screaming. she hadn’t known. i left the food at the doorstep.
september 10th, 2016, 1:49 am: you never called after that, never came by, never reached out, but it wasn’t like we’d needed to confirm anything. i knew it was over, but it took every ounce of willpower i had not to go back to your place and find out why, why everything.
september 27th, 2016, 6:20 pm: i kept finding myself huddled in a ball; in my bedroom, in my kitchen, in my shower. not crying, or yelling. just huddled, clutching my body close to myself, staring. still not understanding.
october 31st 2016, 9:01 pm: i spent halloween haunted by the ghost of you. your face was around every corner. i could still feel your touch trickling down my spine. that night, i lost it. the anger surged through the sadness and bubbled to the surface. i screamed until my throat was raw, screamed at nothing, about nothing, for no reason other than i was too full.
november 10th, 2016, 2:17 am: you called me when you were drunk and i answered. i listened to you ramble, vomiting up apology after apology. near the end, you told me you loved me. “call me tomorrow when you’re sober if you still love me,” i said. you didn’t.
november 25th, 2016, 7:15 pm: i went out on a date with somebody new. they didn’t pull me in like you did, but for a few hours, i forgot about you and i felt okay. i drank myself to sleep that night so i wouldn’t have to think about you. the next morning, the hangover hurt more than you did. it was a start.
december 24th, 2016, 8:12 pm: i was spending christmas with my family, and i was doing great until my aunt asked about you. i told her you cheated, but i was doing okay, and then i excused myself and threw up the appetizers into the toilet. i called you then, and when you picked up, i let out a sob. “you ruined me, you fuck,” i croaked, “and you can’t even apologize. not when you’re sober, at least.” there were a few seconds of silence, and then you hung up. i still hope that it ruined your christmas.
december 31st, 2016, 10:23 pm: i saw you for the first time in months across the crowd. it made me sick to know that even after all that had happened, you were still the most beautiful person in the room to me.
december 31st, 2016, 11:55 pm: you found me in the kitchen. “i wanted to tell you i’m sorry,” you yelled over the music, “and i miss you.” and in those final moments of the year, i thought about it. i thought about letting you back in. the countdown started, and you moved closer to me. and i.. i pushed you away. i turned away from you and said, “no. i can’t.” and i walked out of the room.
january 1st, 2017, 12:05 am: i have forgotten how you felt against me, your lips. and for the first time, i am finally okay with that.
a year in review -c.h. // instagram: @evanescent.love (via @poeticaffinity)
Lance puts his foot down, and Shiro/Slav have a long overdue talk.
Shiro never figured Lance for the snapping type. They all had their moments, under the constant stress of intergalactic rebellion, but Lance kept a reasonably calm lid on it – his self-titled “rivalry” with Keith aside. Looking at him now, there is only surprise at the way he’s holding himself, the set of his expression: Lance looks both nervous and pissed off.
‘Keith – could you give us a minute?’ he says, in a deliberately calm voice. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Keith hesitate, as if reading the tenseness of the situation and worrying that it might get out of hand. ‘Now, Keith. Go check on Slav’s sector.’
Reluctantly, and with a suspicious look at them both, Keith exits. Lance looks even more nervous when he does. More so when silence settles on them, and he raises a brow at Lance. Well? says the look, say what you have to.
‘I just… you’re way too hard on him,’ Lance repeats, a far cry from the irritated way he’d snapped Can’t you just cut Slav some slack? ‘He’s trying to help, Shiro. I-it’s not… he doesn’t mean to annoy you. It’s just how he… is.’
‘Excuse me?’ His previous calm turns to surprise. He keeps his voice low, not meaning to menace – but Lance scowls a little deeper, mistaking it for nonchalance. ‘Don’t, Shiro. You sound just like Iverson when you do that, a-and he was an ass,’ Lance says, voice rising only in pitch. Angry and nervous, like a cornered cat. Shiro takes a small step back to give him breathing room, but Lance stays tense. ‘Slav only wants to help. You treating him like a nuisance isn’t – it’s not fair, okay. He can’t help being jumpy; he was a prisoner for ages –’
It takes a second or two for that to sink in. When Shiro goes quiet, when his stare goes vacant as he processes this, Lance steps forward, speech picking up momentum as he grew more defensive.
‘– and it’s not easy to adapt out here,’ there’s a note of hurt in his voice, and it hits Shiro more than the chastising. ‘Slav got taken from his people and thrown into a war just like we did. He’s handling it different. YOU handled it different, we all did. I thought you’d understand him because of it, since you both got tortured by the Galra.’
That’s almost an accusation, and now Shiro fully understands what has Lance so fired up, so recalcitrant. And that understanding brings with it a sense of guilt, especially with the way Lance had said I THOUGHT you’d understand.
Totally useless information: I am that kind of person who wears grey or navy and calls that a colourful outfit. I am an all-in-black person, but sometimes I wear green like this one: a slightly darker that what we would nowadays call olive or military green.
This court coat and waistcoat are wonderful examples of the clothing that was needed to be worn in (duh) court at the end of the century: perfect, heavily decorated, hiper elegant and pretty much over the top. Damn, I wish I could embroider like that… or even make a proper coat (JUST LOOK AT THE BACK PLEATS!! Sorry, I’ll go cry in the corner).
Green velvet court coat and matching ivory satin waistcoat, ca, 1790, France.
In the future, when Nikolai Plisetsky is dead, Yuri's cat (I call her Niva) dies. Yuri's cat was a gift from Nikolai, so Yuri is devastated, because he's lost one of the only things his grandpa left behind. Niva's irreplacable, so Yuri is FURIOUS when Otabek gives him a new cat. He feels like Otabek's assuming Niva can easily be replaced. Yuri won't talk to him for days, then he realizes: He's lost a cat given to him by someone special, and the person who gave him the new one is special as well.
WOW MY DEAR ANON… you just punched me right in the feels… I’m so emotional right now SOBS THANK YOU FOR THIS, IT’S BOTH SO HEARTBREAKING AND SO BEAUTIFUL ;///u///; <33333333333333
MYAY RAFFLE TIME!!!!!AND OH GOSH 800+ FOLLOWERS?! Im just gonna go cry in a corner now ;w;
THERE WILL BE 3 WINNERS!
-ocs(keep in mind i do have a limit of what kind of oc)
-overly complicated characters aka armor wearing characters or the like(That doesnt mean i cant do simple armor tho)
-Any sensitive subjects (i can draw your char crying tho?XD)
-must be following me!(new followers welcome!!!Dont follow and unfollow if you dont win. Thats just rude and you will be banned from future raffles)
-LIKES DONT COUNT!
-reblog to enter, you get to reblog TWICE tho for better chances(if you reblog more than that, your out of the raffle)
DEVELOPER(S): Aishin ENGINE: RPGMaker VX Ace GENRE: Fantasy, Adventure, Puzzle WARNINGS: N/A SUMMARY:
In the world of Arcadea, people can accomplish their dreams. How? Through video games of course! Everybody who lives in Arcadea has a special arcade machine they can visit in their dreams that lets them fulfill their strongest wishes. Whether it’s to go on an adventure, or make friends, or fall in love, or solve a mystery, or completely start a new life, there’s a game made just for them..
The game follows Maisie, a new arrival to Arcadea. She’s not very interested in all this gaming stuff; her only goal is to find an important person. But along the way, she can’t help but be roped into other people’s problems. She also can’t help that the arcade machines seem to glitch around her. A lot.
Sirius Black sang in the shower and whistled absently as he did his homework. He grabbed his friends’ hands and didn’t think any of it. He proposed to first year girls in the hallway just to make them blush- or perhaps to make his mates laugh. He hexed people he didn’t like without thinking anything of it and hated himself for liking the color green.
James Potter burned holes in his socks from putting his feet too close to the fire on cold nights. He muttered tongue twisters under his breath when he was nervous because he was incredibly good at tongue twisters and feeling good at something made him calmer. He wolf whistled at people in the halls, but only when he knew they knew it was a joke. He doodled on all of his papers and often got distracted mid sentence.
Remus Lupin liked to sit as still as possible and watch the world go by around him. He carried chocolate around with him to give to sixth years he found crying in the library or first years who had fallen of their brooms or stressed fifth years who just really needed to make it through their owls. He folded down the corners of book pages and scrawled notes in the margins on the pages. He wore oversized sweaters and took comfort in every sunrise.
Peter Pettigrew laughed loudly when it was quiet and was still when it was loud. He shrunk and grew to fill the empty space, and being in the same room with him always brought a feeling of enoughness. He stared at girls with deep brown eyes and hair the color of honey, and he liked to steal James’ glasses because he thought they made him look cooler.
“And this right here is my all-time favorite poem,” Derek coos. Will can’t see him or Teddy from where he’s standing, hidden behind the half-closed door, but he can imagine the fond, happy smile that’s been on Derek’s face since they took Teddy home last week.
Teddy’s happy gurgling seems to be an affirmation to Derek, and then there’s some rustling - probably Derek getting settled in the rocking chair. Will tries to rack his brain for Derek’s favorite poem, but for some reason he’s drawing a blank.
“You know, your grandmas used to read this to me all the time when I was a baby. And I liked it back then, but I never really loved it until I was in college. It was what used to get me through the bad days - that is, until Daddy came along, and he started getting me through the bad days, too. So I’m going to read this to you, and it might not really make sense to you now, or you might just like it, but maybe when you’re older it’ll get you through some bad days, too.”
Will can already feel the tears forming at the corners of his eyes, and Derek hasn’t even started reading the poem yet.