what she means:
How does Violet Baudelaire put her hair up with a ribbon so perfectly? She just whips it out and it takes two seconds and her hair looks impeccable, is this some sort of witchcraft? When I try to put my hair up with a ribbon it takes 5 hours of crying and accidentally pulling out some of my hair and even then it looks like a complete mess how does she do it????
uhm….i really can’t believe that i already hit 500?? and i remade like a week ago?? thank you all so much for following me and making this such an enjoyable place for me to be i love you all so much 💘 i’ve been here since 2010 when will i leave
so i decided to do a follow forever and include all the amazing blogs that i follow, i hope you all have a wonderful day and know how much you all mean to me 💐
☼ - i love you with my whole heart ♡ - favourite blogs that i would sell my soul for 💌 - hover there’s a love letter for you~
Shiro never thought he would be that person. A person like that, he had always said, was absolutely awful. And yet here he was, sitting in front of his boyfriend and saying those disgusting words.
“Lance,” He murmurs gently, looking down at his hands quietly which sat limply in his lap. “I… I’m sorry, I can’t do this. I don’t love you anymore.
“I’ve fallen in love with someone else.”
The words stabbed through the other man’s chest like a knife, leaving him gently gasping for air. Tears bubbled up in his blue eyes, making Shiro’s heart ache with the want to just reach up and comfort him, to wrap his arms around him and hold him.
But he knew he couldn’t do that, not after what he just said. Not after what he just did. “I.. I had a feeling,” Lance finally spoke, surprising Shiro a bit as he watched the younger man scrub his eyes with his sleeves. “I didn’t want it to be true, but..”
“But?” He pressed before he could stop himself, fighting the urge to scoot closer.
“But I understand. If it will make you happy being with him, then that’s fine. I don’t want to keep you in a relationship that’ll make you miserable, you know?” He gives a dry chuckle, a sob caught in his throat as tears dripped onto his shirt.
He had seen the way Shiro’s gaze slowly lost it’s happy light each time he looked at Lance. He saw the way he gazed at him. Coming in second yet again like this really hurt. But he only wanted Shiro to be happy. It was his fault for getting so attached.
“So go ahead and go after him, okay? I hope he gives you what I couldn’t.”
“Lancey..” It was Shiro’s turn to tear up at his boyfriend’s– no, ex-boyfriend’s– words. He was so mature, handling this so well even though Shiro just broke his heart. His chest ached with emotion as he slowly reached up for Lance’s cheek.
His hand was stopped short as the smaller boy grabbed his wrist gently and shook his head, pushing it away. “That’s… That’s a bad idea. And please don’t call me that anymore. Just Lance o-okay? We can still be friends though, Shiro.”
Hearing this from his once shining blue boy, hearing Lance call him Shiro instead of Takashi, especially ‘Kashi like he used to, hurt more than he was willing to admit. It was too late to take it back. Lance was letting him go after he already had. And now Shiro had the urge to grab back on.
But.. He couldn’t. The rope was already frayed and ruined. Useless.
“Yeah… Yeah, sorry, you’re right.” He nods gently and turns his gaze away slightly to avoid Lance’s teary, red-rimmed blues. He did this to him. It was his fault.
“Well, I’ll get my stuff out then. I’ll be out of your hair soon enough.” Lance replies with a strained smile, tugging the blanket off his legs and quickly standing to avoid any more awkwardness between them. This was just how things had to be. He knew it was coming eventually.
They always found someone better.
Watching Lance go had to have been the hardest part of it all. Knowing that it was truly over, watching the boy who had brought him so much happiness, watching the boy who had helped him through so much leave without so much as a goodbye was painful.
It wrenched his heart and made his chest ache, made tears start to slip down his cheeks before he even realized he was crying.
But he chose this.
He no longer had feelings for Lance. He fell in love with Keith. He loved Keith, and Keith loved him too.
This was what he wanted.
No, it wasn’t. After a long period of time, a good 6 months into his and Keith’s relationship, he had made his way into a coffee shop, their hands intertwined.
He hadn’t spoken to Lance in 3 months now. They had grown apart after the breakup, and it seemed to go unspoken between them that they both needed to go their separate ways. He was thoroughly over the Cuban boy.
Yet what he saw in that shop made his heart drop to his stomach.
There was Lance, sitting across from a man with long silvery hair, laughing and smiling lightheartedly. The sight of it nearly brought tears to his eyes.
And then there were the hands. Their fingers were laced together upon the table for all to see, placed right next to their coffee cups while they chatted.
‘That’s where my fingers used to fit, right between his.’ He thinks, fighting back wave after wave of emotion. ‘He used to laugh like that with me.’
If Lance had seen them, he made no show of it. He just continued to smile and laugh and joke with this mystery man while Shiro and Keith ordered. And while they sat. And while they drank.
Each moment felt like an hour, sipping on his black coffee. He could still imagine what it was like to listen to Lance give the barista his complicated order, watch her roll her eyes and turn to him, and then order his own black coffee.
Each time it would earn a giggle and a nudge from Lance. ‘Heh, what a simple man.’ He would say before paying for it himself and waiting patiently.
He could imagine the smell as Lance received his double espresso-vanilla-hazelnut-skinny-thing, imagine their fingers intertwined as they just sat together and read books or chatted about the latest.
Things were different with Keith. Keith expected conversation but made no effort to make it. He was gruff and rash, and simple like him. Usually, that’s what made them work. That should make them work. But they still had their falling outs.
They still fought, argued over petty things, sometimes someone ended up on the couch. That was normal.
‘I need to stop thinking about this.’ He tells himself quickly, sipping on his drink while Lance and mystery man got up and left without even a single glance his way. In a sense, it almost… Hurt.
Sure, he had moved on, but seeing Lance happy with someone else hurt. He didn’t know why. Maybe it was just still too fresh in his mind.
That’s what he wanted to tell himself, at least.
In his spare time, Shiro had gained the habit of semi-stalking his ex-boyfriend, checking his pages constantly to see what he was up to. Photos of them together, videos of them together, statuses and bios with each other…
It honestly hurt. He put himself through this pain. For what? He didn’t really know.
Maybe it was punishment for hurting the boy he still loves.
He had wanted to die on Starkiller, wanted to be absorbed into the scarlet infinite of the universe, to be consumed by the astral expulsion of matter, the ultimate ascension into perpetuity, to be forever sublimated as energy from the galaxy’s greatest weapon, the fearsome child of his own making swallowing him back up into the great, gaping, maw of its event horizon.
He had tasted the metal of the blaster against the flat of his tongue: sour and bright. He had closed his eyes and tried to think of a crimson wave of light. Instead, he had seen a field of snow.
His wet-eyed, shaking, paralytic silence is his refusal. Ren is correct: he is a disgrace. He blinks, drops his gaze.
“Coward,” says Ren.
“Get fucked,” he says. (His voice breaks. It sounds so weak.)
me, gradually losing my sanity while trying to customize bhrenn the mara korbat:
what even IS this weird tiled chiffon cocoon???? how does this even work, the wings of the mara korbat are ATTACHED TO THE BODY so how is this dress hanging on ??? it looks sO BAD I’M JUST GONNA DLAJADAIRJWALRALSKJFAJ