play in the puddle

“I want you to tell me about every person you’ve ever been in love with.
Tell me why you loved them,
then tell me why they loved you.

Tell me about a day in your life you didn’t think you’d live through.
Tell me what the word home means to you
and tell me in a way that I’ll know your mother’s name
just by the way you describe your bedroom
when you were eight.

See, I want to know the first time you felt the weight of hate,
and if that day still trembles beneath your bones.

Do you prefer to play in puddles of rain
or bounce in the bellies of snow?
And if you were to build a snowman,
would you rip two branches from a tree to build your snowman arms
or would leave your snowman armless
for the sake of being harmless to the tree?
And if you would,
would you notice how that tree weeps for you
because your snowman has no arms to hug you
every time you kiss him on the cheek?

Do you kiss your friends on the cheek?
Do you sleep beside them when they’re sad
even if it makes your lover mad?
Do you think that anger is a sincere emotion
or just the timid motion of a fragile heart trying to beat away its pain?

See, I wanna know what you think of your first name,
and if you often lie awake at night and imagine your mother’s joy
when she spoke it for the very first time.

I want you to tell me all the ways you’ve been unkind.
Tell me all the ways you’ve been cruel.
Tell me, knowing I often picture Gandhi at ten years old
beating up little boys at school.

If you were walking by a chemical plant
where smokestacks were filling the sky with dark black clouds
would you holler “Poison! Poison! Poison!” really loud
or would you whisper
“That cloud looks like a fish,
and that cloud looks like a fairy!”

Do you believe that Mary was really a virgin?
Do you believe that Moses really parted the sea?
And if you don’t believe in miracles, tell me —
how would you explain the miracle of my life to me?

See, I wanna know if you believe in any god
or if you believe in many gods
or better yet
what gods believe in you.
And for all the times that you’ve knelt before the temple of yourself,
have the prayers you asked come true?
And if they didn’t, did you feel denied?
And if you felt denied,
denied by who?

I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror
on a day you’re feeling good.
I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror
on a day you’re feeling bad.
I wanna know the first person who taught you your beauty
could ever be reflected on a lousy piece of glass.

If you ever reach enlightenment
will you remember how to laugh?

Have you ever been a song?
Would you think less of me
if I told you I’ve lived my entire life a little off-key?
And I’m not nearly as smart as my poetry
I just plagiarize the thoughts of the people around me
who have learned the wisdom of silence.

Do you believe that concrete perpetuates violence?
And if you do —
I want you to tell me of a meadow
where my skateboard will soar.

See, I wanna know more than what you do for a living.
I wanna know how much of your life you spend just giving,
and if you love yourself enough to also receive sometimes.
I wanna know if you bleed sometimes
from other people’s wounds,
and if you dream sometimes
that this life is just a balloon —
that if you wanted to, you could pop,
but you never would
‘cause you’d never want it to stop.

If a tree fell in the forest
and you were the only one there to hear —
if its fall to the ground didn’t make a sound,
would you panic in fear that you didn’t exist,
or would you bask in the bliss of your nothingness?

And lastly, let me ask you this:

If you and I went for a walk
and the entire walk, we didn’t talk —
do you think eventually, we’d… kiss?

No, wait.
That’s asking too much —
after all,
this is only our first date.”

—  Andrea Gibson

okay but the crew stops at a planet for a diplomatic mission, but as they step off of the ship, it immediately starts to pour.

The inhabitants of the planet come running out - the rains a sign of good luck and fortune in their culture - and greet them enthusiastically. Lance tries to remember he’s a paladin. Tries to remember he has a job to do. tries to remember he has a reputation to uphold. Tries to remember that one wrong move could ruin this whole meeting.

But he can’t hold it in.

He drops to his knees in the rain, quiet sobs wracking his body as his eyes squeeze shut. Everyone around him backs up, creating their own circle far away from him, thinking that he’s happy to see the rains again. That he’s finally getting what he’s wanted after so long.

But they’re wrong.

All he can think about is his family. Sitting out on the porch with his grandmother, listening to the soft pitter-pattering of the rain while she knits or sews. Playing out in the puddles with his littlest sisters teaching them how to jump to make the biggest splash. Talking with his dad, listening to him hope that the rain doesn’t wash away the new coat of paint he just put on the house. Cooking with his mom, sharing in her hope that his siblings get home safe and sound.

But he doesn’t have that anymore.

They’re on earth. He’s on some strange planet. They’re going to school. He’s learning as he goes. They’re eating real meals. He’s eating goo. They’re together, happy. He’s alone, pretending everything’s okay. They’re living their lives, probably thinking he’s dead. Half the time he’s wishing he was.

But he has a job.

There are people who count on him. a universe that counts on him. He can’t exactly just leave them behind because the rain brings unwanted memories. No. he has to suck it up and push through.

But a hand finds it’s way to his back.

Lance doesn’t dare look up, not trusting his eyes to not allow tears to spill over, nor his ability to put on a smile and make a joke about how much of a baby he’s being. He stays still, focusing on the hand rubbing circles on his back. It’s probably Hunk. He always knows when Lance needs him, no matter how neutral his face is, or how convincing his laughter rings out.

But it’s not him.

“Take as much time as you need,” says a voice he’s become all too familiar with. A voice he’s fought with time and time again. A voice he’s dreamed about for months on end. A voice he’s longed to wake up to. A voice he’s told himself he hates just to be able to deal with the fact that its owner hates him.

But maybe he doesn’t.

Keith stays, eventually kneeling next to Lance. His hand never leaves his back. Not when Lance stops crying, nor when Lance leans onto him, eyes drooping, face void of any emotion. He stays. And Lance will hold onto that for as long as he can.

hogwarts houses & autumn aesthetics

gryffindor. oversized jumpers; roasting marshmallows over a crackling fire; laughing hysterically while pumpkin carving; the smell of cinnamon and baking; playing in puddles with bright gumboots; hair blowing wildly in the wind; cute beanies with pom poms; warm, rosy cheeks; burning your tongue when you sip a hot drink too quickly; early morning runs; worn, flannel shirts; pretending to be a dragon with clouds of warm breath in the cold air

hufflepuff. long, woollen socks; vanilla-scented candles; a warm blanket over your shoulders; jumping into a pile of autumn leaves; fluffy earmuffs; creamy hot chocolate with whipped cream on top; hanging fairylights everywhere; playing with your pet on a warm rug; thick mittens; a warm bath to relax after a long day; the crunching of leaves underfoot; capturing the image of dancing leaves with a vintage camera

ravenclaw. people-watching through foggy windows in cafés; reading a favourite book by candlelight; long, thick scarves; staying up late to play board games; wandering aimlessly under falling leaves; oversized, knitted cardigans; muted sunlight filtered through autumn leaves; late nights binging on netflix; a chilly wind freezing the tip of your nose; scribbling in notebooks under overcast skies; the natural silence of the woods; the dancing tendrils of steam from a mug of hot tea

slytherin. cold and misty mornings; warming your hands on a mug of hot coffee; dark lip colours; the dance of walking barefoot across a cold floor; stylish, long overcoats; falling asleep to the pattering of rain on the window; meandering wooded roads; lace-up leather boots; the flickering of candlelight in the dark; lying on a tartan blanket while listening to music through headphones; burying yourself in soft, warm blankets at the end of the day

Some more cute mental images feat everyone’s favorite mother and son, Inko and Izuku:

- Inko singing little Izuku to sleep

- little Izuku drawing Inko a picture and Inko putting it on their fridge

- Inko and Izuku watching All Might interviews together

- Inko listening intently when Izuku starts rambling about his favorite heroes

- Izuku face-timing/skyping Inko while he’s staying at the dorms

- Izuku tries to surprise her on Mother’s day with dinner, but it’s kind of a bit burnt

- Inko and Izuku eating ice cream together

- Inko reading little Izuku a bedtime story, it’s usually about All Might, and Izuku enthusiastically shouts TEXAS SMASH every time All Might does one in the story

- little Izuku drawing a picture of his family; Inko, All Might, and him. Inko doesn’t question why All Might is in it.

- Inko and Izuku playing in rain puddles

- Inko writing Izuku letters while he’s staying at the dorms because it’s a bit more personal than texting and she likes the doodles Izuku draws on his letters. She keeps them all in a drawer.

- Even though he’s a teenager and in high school, Inko will still kiss his bumps and bruises. Izuku is so embarrassed by this.

- Inko and Izuku watching Disney movies together

- Inko and Izuku taking polaroid photos together and making a scrapbook. All Might appears in some of them.

Many fall for the charms of Hooded Froakie, for they are adorable Pokémon that love nothing more than playing in the rain and puddles. Once evolved, Collared Frogadier take on a much more aloof personality, and Malicious Greninja are downright ruthless in their fighting style. Their forked tongues resemble tentacle-like appendages, and they can even manipulate them in battle to gain the upper hand.

Requested by @varithoughts!

3

I thought knowing both songs would make it easier to learn on guitar. It doesn’t.

Quick happy MSR drabble / extended headcanon for @snowvitamins <3

Peering out the window over the kitchen sink to one of her favorite sights, Scully smiled. In front of her, their figures backed by tall golden grass, were her two boys, leaping across the puddles in the uneven gravel driveway.

The summer heat was oppressive and with their air conditioning broken on this lazy Sunday, the three of them had splayed out in the living room all day, fans at full blast, wearing minimal clothing, until the whoosh of the downpour started.

Scully had insisted that shoes of some sort were a necessity. As a result, Mulder was now wearing only gym shorts and his work boots as he chased a squealing William through the puddles and around the yard.

Mulder had never looked more ridiculous. Scully had never loved him more.

By Your Side (Klance Sickfic)

Based on the prompt: When Character B whines and Character A shoves them away until they realise that Character B never complains unless they’re sick and immediately begins to look after them

For: @403secret (follow her because she’s great!)

~•~

“Keith…”

The tapping of laptop keys had been the only sound for half and hour and Keith had liked that. He had liked the fact that there had been silence. Lance had (for once) listened to him and there had not been one peep out of him, the sound of the TV barely audible in the background.

Keith ran a hand through his hair, grimacing at its greasiness. He rubbed his eyes furiously and stared at the screen, the word count almost where it was supposed to be at. Groaning, he glanced behind him to face his boyfriend, gaze immediately returning to his computer.

“What is it, Lance?” The stress and hours of long work had worked their way into his voice and he sounded annoyed. “I’m busy right now.”

Lance, instead of answering, shuffled closer and wrapped his arms around his neck, chin resting atop his head. “I’m lonely. You’ve been working on that essay for hours.” There was a slight pressure as he spoke and he raised his voice in pitch. “Watch a movie with me.”

Keith rolled his eyes and turned his gaze to the screen. “I’m almost done. Go, I’ll be there in a sec.” He swatted a hand in the general direction and pried the arms from around his neck.

Lance protested and grabbed his arm, shaking it. “Please, Keith! Just one Spongebob episode.”

“Lance, I swear I’ll be done in five minutes.” His fingertips were already typing quickly, “just a couple hundred words more.”

“But I can’t wait five minutes,” Lance was whining now, grip growing tighter around his arm and Keith ground his teeth in brief anger. “I want you to stop now!” His voice was petulant.

Pulling his arm away, Keith glared at his particularly trying boyfriend. “I’ll be there when I’m ready! Seriously, Lance.”

There was a silence again and Keith put all his effort into finishing it, not even aware of the dejected form leaving the room. It took longer than five minutes, for he spent most of it regretting his cross words and another few minutes wondering at the niggling in the back of his mind. He was missing something, something was off. He stretched himself, arms stretching above his head and yawned. Being sure to save his hard work, he shut the laptop.

Now all he had to do was apologise for the fact that he’d snapped at his boyfriend’s whining. That was never usually something that happened. Keith always controlled his temper and anyway, Lance never usually whined. He only ever whined when he was-

Keith’s formerly slumped body jolted up in realisation, eyes wide, a curse escaping his mouth. Lance only whined when he was sick! And he had just pushed him away for an assignment that wasn’t due for a week, completely and utterly ignoring him. Groaning at his dense mind, he immediately headed for the sitting room.

The television was still playing on low, a loud, yellow sponge crying a literal puddle of tears on the screen. He couldn’t help but smile a little at that as he peeked through the door. Lance had such childish tastes. Tiptoeing in, he saw a tuft of dark hair peeking out from the couch.

As he approached his boyfriend, he took in his slumped figure, a blanket wrapped around him tightly. His eyes were closed and his body rose and fell as he slept. A little bit of drool escaped his parted lips, cheeks flushed in fever and hair tousled. Cute, his mind provided.

He had fallen asleep waiting for a useless boyfriend such as him. God, he was such an idiot.

Careful not to disturb him, he placed a hand on his forehead and winced at the high temperature emanating from his skin. Then he gently lifted him up, careful not to jostle him too much, marvelling at how sound asleep he was and how nice he looked even when sick. He made his way over to the bedroom, fiddling around with the door handle for a bit. Placing him gently on the bed, he rearranged the blanket around his prone form and left.

Grabbing the medicine and a glass of water in a hurry, he reentered the room. Lance had moved, blanket kicked off. Ignoring it for the moment, he took out a pill and made his way over to Lance.

He shook him gently, relief filling his veins as his eyes fluttered open. Keith did not speak, for he was not good at talking when people were sick. He always ended up sounding angry and Katie had often said that his bedside manner was nonexistent.

Lance looked confused for a moment, eyes unfocused. He licked his dry lips for a moment before speaking. “Did you finish your essay?” He looked up at Keith worriedly. “I think I fell asleep.”

“You have a fever. Just take the medicine and get to sleep.” He spoke flatly and Lance seemed to deflate at his tone, nodding silently. Trust Lance to ask about his work first.

With that, he placed a hand behind Lance’s neck and helped him to take the medicine. Then he stood up to put the glass away, but a hot hand fumbled at the hem of his shirt clumsily.

“Don’t go, Keith.“ Lance plaintively spoke, eyes round and wide. Then he seemed to remember something and pulled away reluctantly. “You can finish your essay. I forgot.” His eyes looked a bit teary and he tried to hide it by turning his back to him. “You can go,” he uttered, voice muffled.

Abandoning the glass on the floor, Keith sighed and crept in beside him, wrapping his arms around Lance’s skinny waist. Lance stiffened a little, but didn’t move. Nuzzling his face in his hair, Keith inhaled the familiar scent of coconuts.

“I’m sorry, Lance. I didn’t mean to yell or get angry.” There was no response, so Keith continued, his thoughts leaving his mouth softly against his hair. “I should have realised that spending time with my boyfriend is more important than an essay. And I didn’t notice you were sick either, which I should have figured out right away.”

Lance finally, finally turned to face him, eyes red, but face a bit brighter. “It’s okay.” He buried his face into his neck, and Keith found he didn’t mind the hot, wet feeling on his skin nor the tight grip of arms around his midsection. “Just don’t leave me for a while. You’re a comfortable body pillow despite your prickly personality. Lord knows how I’ve put up with it.”

Keith chuckled and brought up a hand to pat his head of hair. “So I’ve been downgraded from a boyfriend to a body pillow?” He knew he didn’t have to worry that much if Lance was insulting him.

“I would call it an upgrade. My precious arms are wrapped around you.” His hot breath was not uncomfortable on his neck as he spoke and Keith closed his eyes, a hand running through Lance’s soft hair, tucked beneath the boy’s neck, breath evening out.

“Just go to sleep. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

Then, much to his surprise Keith fell asleep, a hand in Lance’s hair and another draped over his waist. Lance fell asleep soon after, but not before tightening his grip and reaching up to plant a kiss on his cheek gently.

“Love you too, Keith.”

Why the Signs love Fall & Cold Weather

Aries: Hair blowing wildly in the wind; walking barefoot across a cold floor; lace-up leather boots, trudging down damp country lanes full of puddles.
Taurus: The smell of cinnamon and baking; rosy cheeks; a warm blanket over your shoulders; late nights binging on netflix.
Gemini: Playing in puddles with bright gumboots; reading a favourite book by candlelight; scribbling in notebooks under overcast skies.
Cancer: Oversized jumpers; creamy hot chocolate with whipped cream on top; fluffy earmuffs; a chilly wind freezing the tip of your nose.
Leo: The colour orange everywhere; early morning runs; stylish overcoats; jumping into a pile of autumn leaves.
Virgo: Watching the street through foggy windows in cafés; vanilla-scented candles; the dancing tendrils of steam from a mug of hot tea.
Libra: Hanging fairylights everywhere; flannel shirts; capturing the image of dancing leaves with a vintage camera; falling asleep to the sound of the rain.
Scorpio: The crunching of leaves underfoot; muted sunlight filtered through autumn leaves; the flickering of candlelight in the dark; halloween.
Sagittarius: Roasting marshmallows over a crackling fire;  staying up late to play board games; meandering wooded roads.
Capricorn: A warm bath to relax after a long day; thick mittens; the natural silence of the woods; dark lip colours; the right amount of blankets in bed.
Aquarius: Wandering aimlessly under falling leaves; warming your hands on a mug; being a dragon with clouds of warm breath in the cold air.
Pisces: Cute beanies with pom poms; playing with your pet on a warm rug; lying on a tartan blanket while listening to music through headphones.

I want you to tell me about every person you’ve ever been in love with. Tell me why you loved them and why they loved you. Tell me about a day in your life that you didn’t think you’d live through. Tell me about what the word ‘home’ means to you and tell me in a way that I’ll know your mother’s name just by the way you describe your bedroom you had when you were 8. See, I wanna know the first time you felt the weight of hate and if that day still trembles beneath your bones. Do you prefer to play in puddles of rain or dance in the bellies of snow? And if you were to build a snowman, would you rip two branches from a tree to give your snowman arms? Or would you leave your snowman armless for the sake of being harmless to the tree? And if you would, would you notice that the tree weeps for you because your snowman has no arms to hug you every time you kiss him on the cheek? Do you kiss your friends on the cheek? Do you sleep beside them when they’re sad, even if it makes your lover mad? Do you think that anger is a sincere emotion or just the timid of a fragile heart trying to beat away its pain? See, I wanna know what you think of your first name. And if you often lie awake at night and imagine your mother’s joy when she spoke it for the very first time. I want you to tell me all the ways you’ve been unkind. Tell me all the ways you’ve been cruel. See I want to know more than what you do for a living. I want to know how much of your life you spend just giving. And if you love yourself enough to also receive sometimes. I wanna know if you bleed sometimes through other peoples wounds. I want to know about you.
Hearing Voices Part IV - Memories
  • Ruby: I don’t really understand how this works.
  • Oscar: *sighs* That makes two of us.
  • Ruby: So like you see something, or someone says something, and then you see a memory? But like, it’s not your memory it’s Professor Ozpin’s, and you see it like… though his eyes?
  • Ozpin: She understands better than she thinks.
  • Oscar: Yes.
  • Ruby:
  • Ruby: This is weird.
  • Oscar: Believe me, I know.
  • Ruby:
  • Ruby: Do you…do you like…remember what he’s said to me? Professor Ozpin? Can you remember what was the first thing he noticed about me the first time he saw me?
  • A memory forms. Ruby, not much younger than she is now, sits at a table. He approaches her carrying milk and cookies.
  • Ozpin: Ruby Rose.
  • Ozpin: You have silver eyes.
  • A second memory interrupts the first. He is sitting at a desk flipping through a stack of photos of a toddler playing in a mud puddle.
  • Ozpin: Qrow, why did you take an entire roll of film of your niece eating mud?
  • Qrow: She’s really sweet, isn’t she?
  • Ozpin: She is. Did it ever occur to you to put down the camera and stop her from eating the mud?
  • Qrow: *shrugs*
  • The memory fades.
  • Ruby: Oscar? Are you okay? What did you see?
  • Oscar: *clears throat* Your eyes. The first thing he noticed were your silver eyes.
Giant: Ch. 5

When you leave someone
Their love lingers on,
Like a fresh wound
With no one to love.

The paper stared at her, refusing to blink. Lena knit her fingers together and rested her cheek on them as she lingered over the words that sat there. She blew air threw her lips and prepared herself to finally read her father’s words.

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