queue by the creed

you’re 19, believe me you don’t know what you’re going to want in a boy when you’re 26 and believe me you won’t figure it out right now. so stop planning who you’ll end up with, or who you’ll want in seven years because you don’t even know what you will want, to begin with. stop making promises to yourself and your boyfriend. because who the fuck knows who you will like seven years hence. but you know who you like right now. him. so cherish that. make plans, eat ice cream in bed with him, hug him, take walks in gardens, go on dates, go to art galleries. cherish it without making promises. cherish it without promising each other a future. you’re just 19. you don’t know who he will want and you dont know who you’ll want in seven years.
—  seven years//nikitagupta
some day, you are going meet some boy who will fix your heart, just like one fine day your ex lover broke it. you won’t see it coming but that day it wont hurt anymore to look at couples holding hands in supermarkets, it wont hurt anymore to see boys purchasing red roses and it wont hurt when somebody whispers i love you to the girl eating pasta in your favourite cafe on the next table. i know your tumblr is filled with quotes about boys who didn’t text you back but this one is for the ones who did, who called you when you were sick and held you when you had a panic attack and let you sleep on them. this one is for the boys who made you realise love is more than flowers and holding hands and sex. this one is for the boys who fix heartbroken girls. this one is for you, my love.
—  t h i s. o n e//nikitagupta
Assassin's Creed Character Aesthetics

Altaïr: The feeling of rolling strands of hay between your fingers, hardback books in perfect condition, wearing clothes fresh out of the tumble dryer, the warmth of stones that have been out under the sun all day, drizzled honey.

Ezio: The smell of mulled wine, bear hugs when you need them the most, adding an extra spoon of sugar to your tea as a treat, sunlight streaming through a bedroom window.

Connor: The scent of freshly cut grass, the coarseness of tree bark, a breeze through your hair, paint-coated fingertips, making wishes on a dandelion seed, rough palms.

Edward: Warm sand between your fingers, the sting on your fingertips after pressing down on guitar strings, soft stubble, sun reflecting off of wet skin, the feeling of going to sleep knowing you can sleep as long as you like.

Shay: Walking barefoot on a tiled floor at 4am, morning frost melting from the branches of trees, heavy blankets wrapped around you, the rising steam from a mug of tea, scuffed leather boots, warm breath in the cold air.

Arno: Wiping dust from the pages of an old book, the steady tick of a pocket watch, rose petals floating in a pond, the scent of burning paper, strawberry juice, stargazing from a rooftop.

Evie: Fresh cotton sheets, the feeling of running your fingers over parchment paper, wax running down a candlestick, the clopping of horse hooves on cobbled streets, naturally bright rooms.

Jacob: That feeling of someone running their fingers through your hair, bandaged knuckles, the scent of leather, humming a song you can’t remember the name of, milk moustaches, the purple sheen of a crow’s wing.

and there i lay in your arms wondering what you think about when you kiss me, wondering if you think about an ex lover or the chocolate ice cream you taste on my lips. wondering what you see when you close your eyes and your lips touch mine. wondering if you like the choas you see in my eyes. because all i kept wondering about in that moment was how i got so lucky that the guy i like is kissing me back.
—  w o n d e r i n g//nikitagupta
is it just me who thinks the concept of falling out love is a utter bullshit. you can’t stop loving someone even when you’re hurting like hell, even when you’re far away in different time zones, even when you’re surrounded by attractive people all day. if you can fall out of love with a person that easily then i don’t think you were actually in love, to begin with.
—  //nikitagupta
i want you to know you mattered because when I was so fucking broken, I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror but I could look at you and smile like nothing even happened.
—  b r o k e n//nikitagupta
you think every girl’s
is chocolate.
its guys in white shirts.
—  w e a k n e s s//nikitagupta