#how time passes;; december

[frostgnawd]

✧ keep: an important part of your personality that others seldom see, that remains a vital part of who you are even if nobody knows it's there.

When he is 9,

The eyes of the governess stare down upon him as he's called to read aloud. His words don't trip over each other the way they had when he'd first arrived, tongue clumsy with the weight of a language he'd grasped odds and ends and no centers of, but they do stumble, stutter, cut off, when he meets her gaze. It's the weight of those eyes upon him that he is still not used to -- eyes free of the unique cross he will forever bear.

When he is 14,

Jean and Diluc take to presenting drills with practiced ease, as was part of the routine of the fearless Ordo Favonius, and while Kaeya had thought he'd have fully caught up to their bravado by now -- to put it simply, he hasn't. Today, again, his hand trembles as it grasps the hilt of his sword, and he nearly drops it when he swings, but at least he's started to learn to play off the laughter that inevitably comes his way. Work in progress, he tells himself. He promises the two dearest to him that he's just trying to ensure he'll never have to play leader -- I'm perfect otherwise, aren't I? -- and offers a jab about how he's certainly seen Diluc drop his claymore before to divert the subject.

When he is 17,

He stares at the church's entryway for a beat, then another, before sighing to himself and ultimately departing in favor of the Ordo Favonius barracks. There's a first aid kit there, though there's not a healer, but he's gleaned enough knowledge from the treatments he's received previously to know what he ought to do for the fresh burn that still sears the side of his face. Nobody's seen it just yet, thank gods, and he intends to keep it that way, ascot wadded up and pressed firmly to ensure the rain doesn't soak the injury. It might feel nice, but Kaeya doesn't want to know what kind of infections would come from the wrathful sky above. He makes sure to keep his head down in the hallways, and mentally works out what he'll explain to whatever captain he'll surely be shoved towards in the morning.

When he is 22,

He adjusts the garments carefully, gingerly, feeling both at home and foreign entirely in the ensemble he's been provided. Idyia calls him from her place on the stage, and Kaeya meanders out from the fitting room obediently to present his new ensemble. When so many eyes land on him, he can't help but fidget with the dressing, shifting side to side in a motion that almost looks nervous.

It seems, even after all these years, he's still terribly shy.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Why is November blazing by so quickly STOP—

[sonknuxadow]

^ guy who has to draw funny hedgehogs or else they will die

[chrisbangs]

hello... (and bye ig 👋)

[aastarions]

the holiday season always has me the most nostalgic for my childhood and the traditions that have been lost to time

[martellspear]

"suddenly, it's december, and you're not seventeen anymore, and you haven't been seventeen for a very long time, but sometimes you need to remind yourself."

[fuckyeahelenapaparizou]

Best Greek Act - MTV Europe Music Awards 2009

[somethingsomethingcomic]

deadnamed at my father's funeral

[coridallasmultipass]

Halloween costume hint:

(The stitch marker and the word that describes this colour-pattern of yarn [or fabric] are 2 more hints.)

[gatheryepens]

I can’t believe tomorrow is christmas….

[lesamis]

If a face, as Johann Gottfried Herder says, is nothing more than a Spiegelkammer of the spirit, then we should be a little frightened of Keats's variety of expressions. [...] Keats is unable to contemplate himself. His gift is not knowing how to reconcile himself. The identity of a person who is in the room with him presses in and cancels his own out in a flash. When Keats speaks, he's not sure he's the one talking.

"John Keats", in These Possible Lives, Fleur Jaeggy

[frostgnawd]

🎄

tw: alc mention || @currentlyoffwork

" Now look who's all by his lonesome! "

Kaeya grins at the stranger who's settled himself in a corner, content to read his book despite the not-so-peaceful-quiet of the tavern's patio. But then Kaeya notices the headphones the stranger dons; a blink, once, twice, and he taps the side of his head, mimicking the position of the earpieces, as if to ask if he's currently being tuned out.

And then, whether he is or isn't, he points upwards -- stares, for a beat, until he's certain the other has noticed the mistletoe above them too.

There's a half-hearted shrug (mostly because one hand holds a very precious goblet of wine he cares not to spill) as if to say it can't be helped, you know.

" But don't worry-- " Kaeya promises, elbows pressing onto the table for support. " I'll hardly disturb you. "

And he actually keeps to his word -- Alhaitham doesn't even have to put down his book, because Kaeya just presses a kiss on the hand holding up whatever esoteric novel he's indulging himself in. Something on Deshret, Kaeya vaguely notes.

His eye crinkles as he peeks over the cover of the book, and when he pulls back, the rest of his expression looks just as playfully smug. As if he's actually accomplished something here.

" Thank you for sharing the moment, friend ~! " And with that, Kaeya turns on his heel, offering little more than a wave over his shoulder as he disappears into the crowd again.

[running-in-the-dark]

I've given up on trying to sleep at night. it just does not work. I can't do it so I might as well just sleep when I get tired.

I don't have a sleep schedule, I'm tired all the time, I fall asleep all the time. so I might as well stay up all night painting (and watching Leverage)! I'm not getting shit done so I might as well do something I enjoy.

[supercantaloupe]

i had my zoom meeting with maestro and the assistant conductor today to talk about the manager job and it all sounds okay to me (i'll feel more comfortable about the whole arrangement once i can come in and shadow the last two rehearsals this semester and get a feel for the job in person) but it's a little funny how frequently maestro kept assuring me that. well if it sounds like too much work or just not something i am capable of or even want to do it's okay no pressure he'll be fine without me it's totally up to me don't sign on if you aren't absolutely one hundred percent okay with it and even if it's too much let me know because we can adjust the duties and help you out it's okay. and also him being like the pay isn't that good i'm going to try to ask for more money to pay you and the assistant conductor and maybe partially fund you if you go on tour with us next summer but it really should be more pay than this i'm sorry anyway here's like seven other ways you can make a little extra cash through related jobs like arranging extra parts for the orchestra and subbing on english horn as needed and maybe i can find some money for you to write program notes also have you considered teaching at the local music school it's a good way to get your foot in the door and make a little extra on the side sorry it's not much i hope it's okay for you

[arcadiandeath]

it feels like i am reliving it everyday

[marianomoreno]

you know the more you talk to people the more you realise most have gone through pretty incredibly traumatizing stuff. there's this notion that these things are exceptional but theyre really not. tragedy isnt either.