#I'm feeling hopeful today

[smblmn]

Knowing SAD would hit especially hard this Autumn/Winter, I bought some flower bulbs to plant at home back in October. I knew that, even at my lowest, seeing the tiny sprouts emerging from the soil would cheer me up. Or at least that's what I hoped.

It worked.

Seeing the little green leaves peaking out of the ground, nothing but potential at that time, reminded me that what looks like nothing at one moment, will be beautiful one day.

Most of the bulbs I bought are still growing and won't bloom until late Spring/early Summer, but today, on the first day of Spring (for me), this is what I woke up to:

Only two of those flowers were fully open yesterday, and there's still a couple of buds that will bloom this week. Then, later on, the flowers will fall and the leaves will dry and the bulb will remain buried, dormant, until its moment comes again.

Life moves in a constant cycle. Things get better and then they get worse and, eventually, they get better again, and on and on. And throughout, there's beauty to be found everywhere, all the time.

[hopecherub]

hgwahagagaga i love being alive

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

[jkvjimin]

JEON JUNGKOOK + fire stage performances 🔥 (cr. 0613data, namuspromised, moreloveforhobi)

happy birthday, steph! @cosmicdreamgrl 💗

[coldbycrossfade]

MAN THAT REALLY COLORS THIS RESPONSE IN THIS CONVERSATION SO DIFFERENTLY FOR ME

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

There's something to be said about Nine and Twelve as parallels, about them being these seeming grumps with hearts of gold who must relearn optimism while being fundamentally kind at the end of the day, and Eleven and Thirteen as parallels, as these lonely tinkerers who travel with multiple companions at the same time but push people away before they get too close because they are creatures built on grief, and Ten alone, as something that is all and none of the above, who starts out as a creature born of love but who loses said love and is willing to die and must find grounding but loses said grounding and declares himself the Time Lord Victorious because if he cannot have love he has to have something, anything, he can call his own, and about how all five of them are shaped, fundamentally, by their grief and their guilt over the Time War and being the last of their kind and how every companion leaves them and they will always, always be the last one in the TARDIS, always be the last one surviving, no matter what, and yet all of them, at the end of the day, die to save someone. Die to be kind, just one more time. Because that is what ties them all together. That is what makes them the Doctor.

[conjuring-ghouls]

Them filthy rodents are still coming for your souls (x)

[front-facing-pokemon]

[icewindandboringhorror]

I made a few new wax seal stamps out of clay (like the ones I did for my worldbuilding stuff forever ago), this time just of random symbols that I thought might look good done in the style of painting over the raised part of the wax or etc. :0c Some of them aren't carved deep enough to really show up that well, but overall they worked okay for being clay lol

[royalarchivist]

For folks who missed today's QSMP Movie Night or want to rewatch it with the original audio intact, I've uploaded the Movie Night portion of several members' VODs to a public Google Drive. I will keep these files up until Monday, December 4th, so be sure to watch and/or download whatever you need before then!

UPDATE: The lovely folks at @mcyt-archives have added all Movie Night 2 VODs to the QSMP Archivist VOD Masterlist. If you're still having trouble finding an unmuted version of the VOD you want to watch, check out their archive!

[ As a side note: thank you to everyone who left such kind comments & messages on the previous VOD Archival post. You're all so sweet, it made me feel really happy and appreciated :') ]

[overtake]

Trying to do something resembling coping after Singapore. Have some Max/Daniel hurt/comfort (1.3k). Also on ao3 if you prefer.

The press of a button freezes Max’s watery blue eyes, the space between them bifurcated by the crease in his forehead.

“Is now really a moment to remember?” Max asks in a raspy voice. His throat isn’t clogged by tears, but there’s almost a decades worth of race starts together sitting uncomfortably in there and congesting each word.

His hand hasn’t strayed from Daniel since he found him after the race. It’s somewhere on some part of him every time he’s close enough to touch.

Normally he’s halfway home by this point, Air Max somewhere over the circuit skies and headed back toward home.

He’s stayed, this time, in case this is it. In case this is his last chance to neatly fold Daniel’s clothes into his bag, even though his own are always wrinkled under pairs of stained shoes and dirty briefs. In case this is the last time they both exit the paddock as drivers. In case this is the final chance Max has to trace the shape of Daniel’s jawline and tell him, “Good race.”

Daniel’s mum is giving them a last minute alone. She’s standing guarding outside the door and leaving them be for now. Daniel knows, though, that when they stand, she’ll hug Daniel close, wishing he was little enough to hide in the crook of her neck while she covers all his gaping wounds with plasters and a kiss on each one to ease the ache. 

Despite his complaints about the camera, Max still moves from where he’s crouched in front of Daniel to collapse into his side and observe the photo. He wraps one arm around Daniel’s back to tug him impossibly closer and rests his mouth on the top of Daniel’s shoulder in an exhausted kind of kiss.

“I look like shit,” he says, statement muffled by the fabric of Daniel’s shirt. He sounds like he wants to poke fun at himself until he makes Daniel laugh, but they’re both too hollowed out to muster up the energy. Instead, Max reaches out and turns off the display.

For a second, their fingers linger together on the camera’s body, until Daniel lets the camera drop back against his chest so he can entangle their hands instead.

“It’s not a nice memory,” Daniel agrees. Unlike Max, his voice right now can all be attributed to tears. “But in December, no matter what happens after today, I’ll get a retake on the farm. I’ll be happy, and we’ll be together, and life will go on from now.”

Daniel feels the dampness on his shoulder when a single tear breaks containment, then another, and a shuddering breath, until Max rights himself and pointedly looks away from the tiny patch soaked in cotton.

“It’s not fair,” he says tightly. For a second, he sounds every bit the bullish teenager with a black and white view on the way the world ought to work and bitter frustration that sometimes reality dapples in nuance. It’s the first thing to get Daniel anywhere within city limits of smiling since he set the lap record and gave himself a final moment in the car to reflect on everything this sport had given him, and that he had given this sport.

“Yeah,” he agrees hoarsely. “It’s not fucking fair.”

He’s done with excuses and niceties and dancing on the Red Bull puppet strings in hopes that playing their game might finally net him a seat he’d killed himself to earn. It’s not fair. It’s callous and cruel, the way they’ve strung him and everyone who loves him along for a race they aren’t even brave enough to tell him is his last.

They’re silent for another moment. Daniel closes his eyes and soaks it in: the tendrils of freshly washed hair still trailing water down his spine. The din of dog-tired employees breaking down the paddock, to be quickly vanished away as if it was never here. The ragged in-and-out of Max’s lungs as he tries to coax both of their breaths into something resembling normal.

“Thank you, by the way,” Max says softly. “And congratulations on your lap record.”

“You owe me a really nice Christmas present.”

Max presses a whisper of a kiss over Daniel’s drying curls. “You always deserve the nicest presents.”

Daniel’s mum slips in then, gently shutting the door behind her. Unlike Max, she’s made no secret of her tears. Her eyes are red-rimmed, but she musters up enough of a smile when Daniel heaves himself up into her arms.

“Come here, Max,” he hears his mum scold. A second later, Max is in an awkward three-person hug. Grace’s short arms struggle to embrace them both, but smelling her vanilla perfume and knowing she’s there is enough to surround him in all the ways that matter.

She whispers in turn to each of them, but they’re all so tightly wound, they can all hear every word.

“Thank you for being here every time I couldn’t be,” she tells Max. He murmurs something back, but he manages to keep it quiet enough that Daniel can’t make out all his words. It’s something about thanking her for trusting him with Daniel, but the rest is lost. All he knows is that his mum’s tears start flowing again.

When it’s his turn, she can barely choke out the words. “I’m so proud of you. For your career, of course, but for who you’ve grown into. I couldn’t have asked for a better son.”

“I love you,” is all Daniel manages. He buries the nose shaped like hers into the brown curls that his genes copy-pasted and soaks in gratitude that he has both her face and her endless capacity to love.

Daniel walks into humid night air with his head held high and a career most drivers would kill for, surrounded by people who love him for more than that list of achievements, and knows that he’ll survive whatever comes next.

“That’s a terrible photo,” Max complains three months later. His eyes are scrunched up all cute in it, framed by long lashes and sun-soaked freckles that are almost hidden by the streaks of dirt on his face. He’s smiling, both in the picture and right now, so Daniel knows he doesn’t actually mind.

Two weeks of busy Australian summer have left Max various shades of pink and tan. He'd somewhat learned how to use the grill that Daniel was too scared to touch and now had matching grill aprons with Daniel's dad. He christened the new baby cow the wholly uncreative name ‘Lilly’, because god forbid any animal in his vicinity not be named after Monaco nightlife. He’d also 100% taken to the dirt bikes as easily as everyone would assume and had absolutely, definitely not sworn Daniel to secrecy about where he got that giant bruise on his side after their first go.

When Daniel transfers the photos to his computer later, his finger pauses on the photo captured in a melancholic driver’s room. In it, Max’s eyes are dull and weary, but they’re looking at Daniel with the same unblinking love from today’s picture.

It’s proof, memorialized in expensive pixels, that Daniel’s life did not end on the streets of Singapore; that his worth to the world never depended on his points or podiums.

He closes the lid of his laptop and joins the gathering in the living room. Max is pouring fake tea for Isabella’s dolls. Isaac is politely sipping an empty teacup, one pinky in the air. Isabella is nowhere to be found, probably busy dragging Daniel’s poor parents to see Lilly the cow for the fifth time today.

“Daniel!” Max says, in the sweet, distinct way his mouth always forms the name. His face brightens when Daniel walks in. When Max smiles like that, it’s as if the sun has come through the roof and taken human form in broad shoulders and rumpled t-shirts.

“Max!” Daniel says back, matching his enthusiastic tone. He sits cross-legged in Isabella’s empty spot and slides his fingers between Max’s.

The tea party continues, and life moves forward.

[vaguely-concerned]

emotional security is stored in the undramatic calm utterly certain and unbearably soft way alistair says 'my love?' when you switch to him once he's reached 'love' status

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

[svnflowermoon]

hi my loves,

i feel like this has been a long time coming, but i'm leaving tumblr for the indefinite future. i won't be active or replying to messages so feel free to add me on discord (svnflowermoon) if you want to stay in contact. my personal life is too overwhelming at the moment and tumblr just isn't hitting the same as it used to. so many of the friends i've made here who i hold so dearly in my heart are either inactive or just gone and it's just not bringing me the joy it used to.

i love you all so much feel free to add me on discord or ask for my insta if we're close (if you want to ask for my insta just message me either here or discord). the time i've spent here has been amazing but it's over for the time being. obviously feel free to send asks, i'll answer them whenever i get back to tumblr. i'm gonna be real with you this break could be for months but please know i'm always thinking of you all <3

i hold you all so close to my heart and i hope you all get everything you could want, you all deserve all the happiness the world has to offer. i have a special place in my heart for you all and i want you all to live the best lives you ever can.

i hope you think of me when you see sunflowers and dark red and billie eilish and the moon, and i hope you think of me when halley's comet plays, and when you go on long walks and feel the sun streaming through the leaves. i will be back one day, just not now. i hope to see you all at some point where i'm in a better headspace for tumblr and i'm looking forward to seeing you all again one day.

lots of love, lucy <3

my intro post if you're new here

[misspoetree]

💕 Happy Valentine's Day 💕

(from the sappiest mf in the whole KP Universe)

[many more text post memes]

[sainz100]

Daniel Ricciardo and Max Verstappen in Tokyo ahead of the 2016 Japanese GP | x