#i cried

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n-o–v-a:

My heart is so full! I love this big grumpy babe! I have so much hope for her future!

I was today years old when I found out that the Last of Us versions of the songs are officially on Spotify. I cried, I’m weak when I hear Joel singing Future days.

fluffiestsimp:

Imagine your F/O sleeping in the same room as you, and they talk about you in their sleep, and I just


SBBAKLAGABJXJSKAKEBDJDKSKWNQNSJ

hauntedironlake:

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DEXTER | S08E12

DEXTER: NEW BLOOD | EPISODE 10

Below is the letter I found in my inbox, it was sent in February anonymously.

To her future man: There are some things you need to know bro. Her favorite color is blue but you’ll only ever see her wear black. She’ll refuse to eat carbs if she hasn’t exercised so make her enjoy some good food. Btw she’s not one of those girls afraid to eat in front of guys. Her weakness is Girl Scout cookies or chicken nuggets.She loves coffee. She cant drive by aroma joes without going so just assume you’re already going & turn in. Her favorite flavor of ice cream is coffee but she still reads every single flavor on the menu before choosing it. She’s so determined on working out, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone with that much drive in them & I’m so proud of her for that. She helps other ladies loose weight all year around for free without bragging or zero recognition. She cries when she’s stressed & angry & sometimes all she needs is a big hug so hug her. If you want to see her cute cheeks blush & that perfect grin, remind her how beautiful she is. I don’t know if you know this but she has these beautiful freckles that she hides away from everyone, you’ll fall in love with every single one & when she’s comfortable enough you get blessed to see them more often. There will be fights. She says “nothing is peaches n’ cream” so much you’ll miss it. But she’s fighting and nagging because she cares & is worried. Shes in love with every dogshe meets and wants a pomsky. If you ever want to make her day bring her to a shelter she loves all animals. She’s so understanding that you can tell her anything. She’s a great listener& will want to know every piece of you so don’t skimp out on a single detail. Despite being a great listener it’s hard to crack open this mysterious women but you’ll get there. Her exs ruined her, she’ll get into her own head & just needs small reassurance everything is okay & some extra attention on certain days, who knows why. Due to her past she gets scared of guys with anger. She trusts nothing you say cause she’s heard it a million times and watched it crumble her inside, show her actions. Don’t be that guy. I ended up being one of them. She’s going to apologize too much cause of her past. She’s going to wonder if she’s good enough for you and she feels the pressure. Her heart is gold & she’s loyal & you’ll wonder if you even deserve that, those thoughts will hit your head. Can I reciprocate everything she gives? How did I get so lucky? When you get these thoughts know that you are good enough and don’t ruin it for yourself just for those reasons. All she wants is your time. Not money or gifts or take away your friends & life goals. If anything she builds you up higher. She panics over loud noises just tell her she’s fine & grab her hand & don’t ever pressure her & ask why. She can sleep through anything & always look so cute. She stays in the same position the entire night & I have no f'ing clue how. If she keeps rubbing her neck she’s in pain, offer her a massage & play with her hair & watch her relax. She loves cuddling & getting as close to you as possible. These are the moments you’ll miss the most so never take it for granted. Never give another girl your attention while you have hers because that’s how you’ll lose her. I loved her but I never deserved her. Last but not least remember that every guy wants her & just cause you have her doesn’t mean you should stop working for her. She gives a lot & takes very little,oh man do I wish I did those tiny things she’d ask for. Don’t make the mistake I did & leave because she was too good, because you won’t find it in anyone else & you’ll search for it & miss it when it’s too late. Oh & can someone please teach her how to park.

livmoorez:People died. Innocent people died Granda. And they were someone’s mother, father, daughterlivmoorez:People died. Innocent people died Granda. And they were someone’s mother, father, daughterlivmoorez:People died. Innocent people died Granda. And they were someone’s mother, father, daughterlivmoorez:People died. Innocent people died Granda. And they were someone’s mother, father, daughterlivmoorez:People died. Innocent people died Granda. And they were someone’s mother, father, daughterlivmoorez:People died. Innocent people died Granda. And they were someone’s mother, father, daughterlivmoorez:People died. Innocent people died Granda. And they were someone’s mother, father, daughterlivmoorez:People died. Innocent people died Granda. And they were someone’s mother, father, daughter

livmoorez:

People died. Innocent people died Granda. And they were someone’s mother, father, daughter, son. Nothing can ever make that ok. And the people who took those lives, they’re just gonna walk free.


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tatahyung: burn the stage ; the finaltatahyung: burn the stage ; the finaltatahyung: burn the stage ; the finaltatahyung: burn the stage ; the finaltatahyung: burn the stage ; the finaltatahyung: burn the stage ; the finaltatahyung: burn the stage ; the final

tatahyung:

burn the stage ; the final


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stopiwanttotalkaboutcheese:

Kenobi trailer: drops

Everyone in the sw fandom:

geminibookbinding:

Had the pleasure of binding @mindninjax’sTo Shape a Home! Love how it turned out and the farmhouse vibes. Title is more heat reactive foil - a rose gold that the picture doesn’t quite do justice. Also think I’m getting the head of headbands now

(Completed: 4/3/2022)

psychosassicvampire:some people say there’s a golden light; you’re the golden light

psychosassicvampire:

some people say there’s a golden light; you’re the golden light


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kiilea:

Isn’t it lovely, all alone?

Heart made of glass, my mind of stone

Tear me to pieces, skin and bone

Hello, welcome home

I haven’t drawn space dads in a while, so pls enjoy this adashi sketch ❤️

secretsofblackthornhall:

Tessa to Sophie

Dear Sophie,

My beloved Sophie, you will never read this. On the bottom shelf of the bookcases built into the far wall of my bedroom here in Cirenworth—Cirenworth! you say, but ah, I will explain—are my diaries, in all shapes and forms, from leatherbound quartos of heavy ivory pages to spiralbound ruled notebooks for children to use in school. There are gaps, sometimes of years, and a few that have been lost or damaged, or whose paper was never intended to last as long as I have lived. But each of them is written to someone—I never understood “Dear Diary,” as though Diary were a person I might want to know my thoughts. But you, of course, I do wish to know. And it has been many decades, Sophie, since I have started one of these diaries and addressed it to you. But today brings a fresh start in a new volume, a lovely little book of swirly Florentine paper, and so I address it to you:

Hello, Sophie Lightwood, née Collins, my first true friend in London. You have been gone so long. And yet it also seems only a moment; I turn and see your graceful figure as you hurry down the hall with a basket in your arms, or the way you smiled when you said you were allowed to speak to Will however rudely you liked (and he did deserve it at the time!) or the way you laughed with Gideon over scones.

So: Cirenworth. I live here with Jem now, you know. He is no longer a Silent Brother—well, that is not relevant to my entry today so I suggest you consult one of the earlier diaries to catch up and come back when you’re done. And we have just been visited by his cousin Emma Carstairs, and her paramour, Julian Blackthorn. (Don’t worry; the Blackthorns of his generation are quite kind and friendly!) She has been keeping a diary herself, to record their restoration of Blackthorn Hall in Chiswick, which has remained mostly unoccupied all this time and has fallen into ruin. (Well, further ruin, I suppose.) And, of course, that old pile of bricks has all kinds of magical problems that they’re having to sort out, although of course they were also eager to see us—Jem and I, and Mina and Kit.

Yes, I’m a mother again, Sophie, and that makes me miss you. How good it was to have you by my side in those early days. I remember one evening, when there was a gathering at the Institute—some sort of party, it doesn’t matter, but James was a baby and Thomas was a baby. Someone, maybe old Lysander Gladstone, was trying to engage us in conversation, and I remember we fell asleep against one another right there on the loveseat, and the babies too. When we woke up it turned out Lysander had been highly offended and Will had had to explain to him about babies and new mothers. And we both startled because the children were gone, but of course Will and Gideon had come and retrieved them and put them in the nursery, and let us nap together there.

I miss those moments with you.

Mina is only a toddler, and Jem’s daughter, and thank the Angel she has something of his temperament. It has been a long time since I had to chase a little one across the dining room floor, but she is sweet-natured and easygoing, most of the time. And we have an older son, Kit, who came to live with us after his father was killed. He is a distant relation in the Herondale line, but he does not feel distant at all. He completes our family in a way I could not have imagined, and in a way I’m sure he never expected. He is also a teenager, and he had his own life before he came to us, so between those truths he often keeps things to himself. And so—as one does with teenagers—I worry about him. He has friends—even a girlfriend, if I’m correct in my observations—and he loves Mina with a fierceness that often surprises even him. But there is a heaviness in the way he carries himself sometimes, a sadness that he won’t, or can’t, speak to us about. And maybe it is only that he’s faced so much loss so young, but I can’t help the feeling there’s something more.

I do want to tell you more about Kit, and where he came from—it’s all much more dramatic than you’re probably imagining—but it is late and I can talk to you about Kit anytime. I wish instead to digress and tell you about Julian and Emma’s visit.

They are pulling at the knots of a few mysteries regarding Blackthorn Hall—a curse on the house that dates back to guess who, Benedict Lightwood (I know, Sophie, who could have guessed). And a ghost, benign but faint and unidentified, probably trapped by the curse. There are a whole set of objects, it seems, connected to the curse, and the ghost told them to bring one of them here to Cirenworth—hence their visit, though as I say, I don’t think they minded an excuse to see Kit or Mina.

We were washing up after supper and Jem—you know how Jem is—said straightaway to them, well, let’s see these objects you found.

Julian fetched them from his bag and put them on the counter: a silver-plated whisky flask, quite tarnished, and a dagger, also quite banged up by time. Neither meant much to me at first—as you’ll know, both flasks and daggers are very common in London Shadowhunter homes, even today—but Jem recognized the weapon immediately.

He pointed at the inscription on it and read out, “I wanted so much to have a gleaming dagger, that each of my ribs became a dagger.”

Both Julian and Emma fairly goggled at him. (I also think they don’t realize that Jem does things like this precisely so people will goggle at him; he only pretends to be perfectly dramatic by nature.) “You know it?” said Julian, while at the same time Emma said, “You readFarsi?”

“I’d recognize it anywhere,” Jem said. “It belonged to my cousin, Alastair Carstairs, though it came to him from his mother’s family.”

“The ghost said to bring it here,” Emma said. “To bring it home.”

Jem picked up the flask, which turned out to have a monogram on it. “Oh my,” he said, his voice quiet, and showed me the initials.

My poor dear Matthew. He came into my mind immediately, with his laughing eyes and his bright smile. Julian said they’d already figured out it was his. But that was very strange, I pointed out, because if Benedict was responsible for the curse, he was dead almost ten years before Matthew was even born. Julian started to say it didn’t make sense to them either, and was part of the mystery still. But then there was a sudden loud clicking, which turned out to be the Sensor they had with them that their brother Ty modified for ghosts. (Ty is a whole other fascinating topic, Sophie, but he will have to wait for another day.) They—I mean Shadowhunters in general, not just Julian and Emma—are still using Henry’s demon Sensor invention all these years later!

The Sensor led us to the library. Emma seemed dubious.

“Come on,” she said to the Sensor. “I’m sure the Cirenworth library has been haunted for years.”

“Not to my knowledge,” Jem said. “Although there are houses in the English countryside where if you brought that thing inside it would howl like a police siren. Cirenworth has been well-maintained continually and the owners have always been very thorough about ghosts.”

Using a Sensor to find a ghost is not quite like using it to find a demon. You can tell you’ve found a demon because, you know—the demon is standing there. With ghosts it’s much more a game of “hotter” and “colder,” and eventually we all agreed the clicking was loudest in front of one particular shelf. We took the books down from that shelf and lay them on the table and checked them with the Sensor, and the winner was a quarto book bound in leather. Nothing on the spine, but a quite beautiful compass rose etched into the front.

We opened it, and when I saw the inside, I gasped. And I knew I would be writing this new diary of mine, to you. You would know it yourself—cramped, neat handwriting, with a strong leftward slant, and entirely in Spanish. It was your son’s journal, of course. Thomas’s. My heart! My memories raced back to you holding him, such a small child (who grew to be such a tall broad-chested man!).

Emma was looking through it. This was the first she’d heard of Thomas, perhaps (there are still Lightwoods around, never fear, but they live in New York), so of course she didn’t have the sentimental reaction Jem and I did. “The problem, of course,” she said, “is that my Spanish is terrible.”

So then Julian of course teased her a little, because Emma’s best friend Cristina is from Mexico City. Emma said that was the problem, whenever she needed to read or say anything in Spanish Cristina could just help her.

“Do we need it translated?” Julian said. “We don’t know that it has anything to do with the curse or the ghost. The flask was just a flask as far as we know, right?”

Jem was shaking his head, though. He put the flask and dagger down next to the book and gave them a look. “I don’t know if you realize it, but these three objects all come from the same era. The owners of all three were the same generation and almost the same age. They were all friends.”

And then I could see all of them in my mind—Thomas, Matthew, Alastair, but also Christopher and Cordelia and my own James and Lucie. It was all so long ago, but I could call up their faces as though it were yesterday. As I can call up yours, Sophie. I looked at Jem and I could tell he was thinking the same thing, but all he said to Julian and Emma was, “It can’t be a coincidence. But Benedict Lightwood never knew any of them, he’d been dead for years by then. Are you sure he’s the one responsible for the curse?”

Emma said they were fairly sure—that they’d been reading a diary they’d found in the house that spelled it out. Whose? Oh, Sophie, you have already guessed. Tatiana Blackthorn’s.

“She was about our age, I think,” Julian said. “Maybe a little younger. He told her about the curse and the objects.”

I think Emma saw the expression in my face and Jem’s. “Did they…” She touched the flask, the dagger, the book, one after the other. “Matthew, Alastair, Thomas, did they know Tatiana Blackthorn?”

“She knew them,” Jem said darkly.

“She hated them,” I explained. “She hated all our families—the Herondales, the Carstairs, the Fairchilds. And the other Lightwoods. She became…rather more and more unpleasant as time went on. More and more obsessed, I might say, with harming us.”

Julian had been looking into the distance. Now he suddenly turned to take in the objects on the table. “She changed the enchantment,” he said. “She replaced some of the objects. Maybe all of them.”

Clever Julian! We all knew at once it was the likely answer.

“Why, though?” said Emma. “Maybe some of the things Benedict used were lost.”

When Jem spoke, his voice was harder than I’m used to hearing it. “I don’t know how she comes across in her journal. When she was younger she was more mild. But in Tatiana’s heart was a terrible, grasping desire for power. For control. There need not have been anything wrong with Benedict’s curse, for Tatiana to have wanted to make it hers.”

He was right, my dear Sophie, and his words filled my heart with dread. Tatiana cannot hurt Julian and Emma. She is long gone. But she reaches out from the years past to bring her evil even to today. Whomever this ghost is at Blackthorn Hall, I pray, at least, that it is no one that we loved.

killrockstarz:

Leslie Cheung and Tony Leung in “Happy Together” (1997) taken from archival footage shown in the documentary “One-Tenth of a Millimeter Apart” (2021)

rainesenator:

“try not to get anyone killed this time.” ava chose VIOLENCE ilitw gang complications. u gotta love them

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