YOU ARE THE REASON
trying on a metaphor
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Andulka
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
hello vonnie
Discoholic 🪩
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
almost home
★
Janaina Medeiros
will byers stan first human second
Origami Around
ojovivo
Game of Thrones Daily
wallacepolsom
Claire Keane
DEAR READER
Kiana Khansmith
Xuebing Du
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Australia
seen from Netherlands
seen from Italy
seen from Mexico
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from Italy
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
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seen from United States
seen from Colombia
seen from Colombia
seen from United States
@marymacdoncld
And these are my vices: impatience, bad temper, wine, the more than occasional cigarette, an almost unquenchable thirst to be kissed. a hunger that isn’t hunger but something like fear…
Cecilia Woloch, from “Fireflies,” Carpathia (via lifeinpoetry)
Harry Potter | First Wizarding War
“Imagine that Voldemort’s powerful now. You don’t know who his supporters are, you don’t know who’s working for him and who isn’t; you know he can control people so that they do terrible things without being able to stop themselves. You’re scared for yourself, and your family, and your friends. Every week, news comes of more deaths, more disappearances, more torturing… The Ministry of Magic’s in disarray, they don’t know what to do, they’re trying to keep everything hidden from the Muggles, but meanwhile, Muggles are dying too. Terror everywhere… panic… confusion… that’s how it used to be.”
Amber Heard + The Adderall Diaries.
She decides God is no good, but he must exist, / he must exist so she can hold him accountable.
Ada Limón, from “The Echo Sounder,” Lucky Wreck (via andrewminard)
I wonder whose arms would I run and fall into if I were drunk in a room with everyone I have ever loved.
(via lovurs)
BOLD what applies to your muse.
PLACE IN SOCIETY
financial: wealthy / moderate / poor / in poverty.
medical: fit / moderate / sickly / disabled / disadvantaged.
class or caste: upper / middle / working / slave / unsure.
education: qualified / unqualified / studying.
criminal record: yes, for major crimes / yes, for minor crimes / no.
FAMILY
married - happily / married - unhappily / engaged or betrothed / partnered / single / divorced / separated.
has a child or children / has no children / wants children.
close with sibling(s) / not close with sibling(s) / has no siblings / sibling(s) is deceased.
orphaned / adopted / disowned / raised by birth parent(s).
TRAITS + TENDENCIES
extroverted / introverted / in between.
disorganized / organized / in between.
close minded / open-minded / in between.
calm / anxious / in between.
disagreeable / agreeable / in between.
cautious / reckless / in between
patient / impatient / in between.
outspoken / reserved / in between.
leader / follower / in between.
empathetic / unemphatic / in between.
optimistic / pessimistic / in between.
traditional / modern / in between.
hard-working / lazy / in between.
cultured / un-cultured / in between / unknown.
loyal / disloyal / unknown.
faithful / unfaithful / unknown.
BELIEFS:
monotheist / polytheist / atheist / agnostic
belief in ghosts or spirits: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care.
belief in an afterlife: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care.
belief in reincarnation: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care.
belief in aliens: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care.
religious: orthodox / liberal / in between / not religious.
philosophical: yes / no.
OPINIONS
pro-suicide / anti-suicide / doesn’t know or on the fence.
pro-euthanasia / anti-euthanasia / doesn’t know or on the fence.
pro-choice / anti-abortion / doesn’t know or on the fence.
pro-marriage / anti-marriage / doesn’t know or on the fence.
pro-death penalty / anti-death penalty / doesn’t know or on the fence.
pro-drug legislation / anti-drug legislation / doesn’t care or on the fence.
pro-murder / anti-murder / doesn’t know or on the fence.
pro-cannibalism / anti-cannibalism / doesn’t know or on the fence.
left wing / right wing / middle / doesn’t know or on the fence.
SEXUALITY + ROMANTIC INCLINATION
heterosexual / homosexual / bisexual / asexual / pansexual / questioning.
sex repulsed / sex neutral / sex favourable.
romance repulsed / romance neutral / romance favourable.
sexually: adventurous / experienced / naive / inexperienced / curious.
potential sexual partners: male / female / agender / other / none / all.
potential romantic partners: male / female / agender / other / none / all.
ABILITIES
combat skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none.
literacy skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none
artistic skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none
technical skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none.
HABITS
drinking alcohol: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.
smoking: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.
other narcotics: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.
medicinal drugs: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.
indulgent food: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.
splurge spending: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.
gambling: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess
merry christmas, here’s to many more | mary & gideon
Winter was Fabian’s favorite season and, ironically, Gideon’s least favorite. He never understood the shops and the sales or the cheer and the sweaters, but most importantly, why it all had to happen while it was so damn cold. Granted, he did love presents, both giving and receiving, and he did love how everyone seemed to share a sense of unexplainable happiness. Like, even through everything, through a war, they could still gather for Christmas dinner. Anything to get their mind off the darkness.
As was typical with Gideon, he couldn’t get his mind off of things. But specifically, last year’s Christmas. How last Christmas, like many Christmases before it, was spent with his family. Happy and smiling and whole. Now, his father was murdered, his childhood home was sold, and his mother was practically comatose. And knowing how he could barely handle it all made him even more scared for his siblings. Molly’s smile was fading and Fabian barely slept anymore.
He sat on the floor of his flat. A cardboard box full of old discarded decorations lay by his feet. Fabian nicked it from their home when he went back to empty it out. you never know, was his reply when he lugged a box so full of tinsel and streamers that it barely slid through their door.
And now here he was, unable to even get up and put up a silver trim. The heat was off, as it normally was during these months, and the chill radiated through his two layers, top one a sweater Molly had knit them.
Mary’s shrieks should come naturally to him by now; the alarm clock of alarm clocks, but there he lay on the floor, unable to even sit up until she nearly kicked him as she trampled through his living room. “Oi, take your shoes off, will you?” He screamed right back at her, although, admittedly more cheerful than he had been a few minutes ago. How did she always do that, anyway? He glanced at the package she mindlessly tossed on the table–his initial thought was simply that she had a party to get to after this and had stopped in his place to simply pick up a jacket or something that she left in his room.
It was only when he finally saw her, beautiful even in her five layers of coats and gloves and hats, and her concerned expression that he put two and two together. “What’s that?” he asked, a quizzical expression on his lips.
A jolted yelp sprang from her mouth when the redhead piped up from his place on the floor, sprawled out in his layers of sweaters and warmth. Despite the cold, he sounded cheery and welcoming and like his usual self, though Mary knew him well enough to hear a tinge of something on the edge of his voice, disguised almost well enough. And despite the cold and how much she loathed it, her eyes catching his erupted a stupid grin on to her face, red nose wrinkling and rosy cheeks lifting. "What the fuck, Gid?" came her hello, and then, at the mention of her snow-tracking boots, she nudged his leg with the toe of her shoe, once, twice. A hand reached out to steady herself on the doorknob while she hopped to kick off one boot, snow showering the floor, and then the other, layers of wool socks somehow still cold as she shoved the wet boots to the side. "It's -- uh --" Light brows furrowed again. At him first, then back to the wrapped gift plopped onto the table, and back to him, that tiny quirk on his smile. The deflate of her lungs was audible, as if the utter existence of the offering stressed her the fuck out. With a huff, she bit at the fingertip of her glove to yank it off with her teeth, toss it onto the couch and then yank off the other to do the same, untangle the knitted scarf from her neck. "I got you a fucking present already, alright?" Mary grumbled quietly, frustratedly, in answer. She wrinkled her nose again in disdain, staring at wrapped and patiently waiting rectangle. She didn't want to admit why she'd brought the gift over to Gideon's a week and half before Christmas Day, why she so adamantly cared to see his face light up when he opened the present up. There were plenty of reasons -- all of them dark, sad, better kept unsaid and locked behind chattering teeth. Usually the holiday season meant good friends and loving family, fills of food and wine, warmth by the fireplace and carols in the streets. And then war came. Mary felt festivity like lockjaw, like a loaded gun. More people in the streets meant more targets for the Death Eaters, meant more bloodshed, meant red stained on white snow in a way that did not scream Christmas at all. Last Christmas, the one before that, she'd been happy. Happier. Spent the day with her parents, with Marlene and friends, smile bright and spirit glowing. Now, her smile looked emptier, hollow, her cheeks hollowed out and gaunt, too. The sweater she wore last year would turn out to be too big, slumping on her decreasing frame. She'd drink more wine this year, she thought. The holiday would come in a week and half. Mary couldn't help but worry about what could happen in a week and a half, sleepless nights as she counted the seconds until the day, wondering if they'd make it there at all. Her melancholy stayed unsaid, but mirrored his in silence. Gideon cracked jokes, smiled, could play pretend all he wanted or needed, but Mary knew that he saw the families together and happy and celebrating the joys of the seasons, and only saw the brokenness of his own. She hated it. She hated to see him so upset, so heartached when she could do nothing to mend the grief. "I don't know if you'll like it, but --" Her shoulders raised in a light shrug before she unzipped her coat, tugging the clothing off her frame only to reveal a bundle of sweaters underneath. "I just thought I should give it to you now, yeah? I'm an impatient person, you know. I couldn't wait. And I figured you'd find it if I tried to hide it anywhere, anyway." Grabbing the gift, she slumped to sit in front of him on the floor. Close enough that her legs draped over his, hand holding out the present to him. She offered him a charming little smile, an honest one that twitched the corners of her lips with what she didn't need to say aloud, the truth reaching into her tired green eyes as they met his, swept over his face, moved to the peculiar box placed in front of him. The cardboard bent and musty, a tightness caught in her brow again in observation. "What's that?"
Galway, Ireland by shawn lenker on Flickr.
The Morning After Sentence Starters
"Get out, get out, get out, get out!"
"Do you remember anything from last night?"
"Why are you in my bed?"
"I'd offer you breakfast, but I think I'm too sore to move."
"So.. Was it good?"
"Who topped?"
"I thought you'd be gone by the time I woke up..."
"I should go."
"This didn't mean anything."
"We shouldn't have done this..."
"Of course I'm freaking out! You're my friend!"
"I'm guessing this was a one time thing?"
"Yeah, yeah, I know how this goes. I'll grab my clothes and get out of here."
"Good morning, hope you don't mind me borrowing your shirt.."
"I made you coffee, did you want some Aspirin?"
"This stays between us."
"Congratulations. You actually convinced me to sleep with you."
"Are you sneaking out on me?"
"So, how much for last night?"
"Holy shit! she's on her way over here right now, she/he CANNOT see you!"
"Don't answer it!"
"Do you have any idea how wrong this was?"
"We're cheaters. We're horrible people. Oh god my mother would be so ashamed of me right now."
"..Do you wanna do this again sometime, maybe?"
merry christmas, here’s to many more | mary & gideon
Yuletide season spat itself onto the streets in the first days of December, tinsel and bows tied chokingly to lamp posts, garland strung over the heads of shop-goers clad in fur and mittens and boots. Mary tugged her coat tightly over her chest, a little too big with the weight she lost since last winter, as she trudged through the thinning crowd of Muggle London, flurries floating above the tiny streets and collecting on the tops of awnings and ledges. War dampened her Christmas spirit this year. People still shopped, though, chimes of bells hanging over store’s door ringing as they perused from one place to the next, lists clutched in their gloved hands, swaying bags from their forearms. A festive melody jingled through the street, mingling with the chatter and bustling, harmonious with the crunch of snow under everyone’s boots.
Mary huffed a frustrated exhale more than once while she struggled through the horde of early holiday shoppers. She didn’t intend to shop, not yet. With all the unpredictability and unstableness in the world right now, she planned to keep her usual Christmas traditions unaltered, and that included waiting until the very last possible minute to panic and rush to purchase shitty, thoughtless little things to fold up in old wrapping paper and call it a gift. Besides, she’d only ventured out that evening to knick a gram of dope from some skinny, jumpy looking fellow who cut her a deal the more she came back to him. She did not intend to push into an unassumingly muggle bookshop and run a finger along the spines of musty old texts, green eyes twinkling with an excited glint when she spotted the perfect something for a very deserving someone.
An hour later, and she rapped her knuckles on the door of that someone’s place, breath a cold cloud out her mouth from behind chattering, rattling teeth.
“Dammit, Gideon, it’s fucking cold in here!” Her voice bellowed through the man’s flat that she so graciously invited herself into after knocking twice, though she doubted this surprised him anymore. (After all, since August, since the ash settled, she spent many nights turning the door knob and finding a comfort in the crook of his elbow, finding ways to forget in the curve of his spine. It’s not anything. It’s not nothing. She’s spent four months refusing to reevaluate their friendship either way.) She sighed. “’Ey! You’re not asleep, are you?”
She tugged off her wool gloves and tossed them idly onto the arm of the couch, puffing a few hot breaths of air and rubbing her palms in hopes of some friction to heat away the cold. When she placed a red and green-colored, big-bowed gift onto the coffee table, she blinked at the sight of it there. It caused some odd, pitting sensation in her gut. A week and a half between now and Christmas, and yet she’d bought his gift tonight, eagerly bundled it in ribbon and paper, and then – dammit, and then! – so excited to give him the damn thing, she showed up here with it. Mary wanted to tell herself that she wanted simply cared to cheer him up, didn’t want to see him unhappy as the first Christmas without his father drew nearer. It had nothing to do with feelings.
“…Ah, fucking hell,” she mumbled, light brows threaded tightly, lips pinched in a frustrated purse as she glared at the gift waiting patiently for Gideon to enter the room and find it sitting there on the table, and find her irritated and obviously bitter that she brought it there in the first place.
@sirgidecnxprewett
@sirgidecnxprewett
The room grew dark and we didn’t turn on the light. We would turn on the light when good news came and if it never came we would live in the dark like this forever.
Miranda July, excerpt from The First Bad Man (via wethinkwedream)
I liked that about her. She was unpredictable. Sometimes the things she said and did were surprising. Sometimes they disturbed me. But she was exciting, and that’s what I liked most. She was so many, many things but she was never once boring.
S. Zhao (via blossomfully)
