friends only.

tonks — Tue, 14 Jul 2015 14:30:10 GMT

comment to be added.

filters→ graphics, resources, fandom, music, friends, GAME OF CARDS.

currently: adding | ~~not adding~~

and i will try to fix you.

tonks — Tue, 24 Jun 2008 14:13:46 GMT

When you see this, quote something from Doctor Who:

"I am the Bad Wolf. I create myself. I take the words, I scatter them in time and space. A message to lead myself here.

I want you safe. My Doctor. Protected from the false god.

I can see the whole of time and space, every single atom of your existence and I divide them... Everything must come to dust. All things. Everything dies... The Time War ends."

Also, John Green runs with the wolves.

tonks — Mon, 02 Jun 2008 17:32:50 GMT

JACOB BLACK FTW!

An idealist's take on love and relationships...

tonks — Wed, 09 Nov 2005 02:56:46 GMT

I have this recurring dream sometimes. And there's a city (I imagaine it as Philadelphia, but it could be anywhere really. As long as it has tall buildings, never sleeps, and you can see your breath when you laugh). And of course there's a boy. And he says somewhat clever things while fumbling over words. It's never too much like a movie where the lines are expertly delivered and no one ever slurs or speaks unclearly. And he asks to get some ice cream so we do and he gets something with peanut butter and I get something with chocolate (of course) and they go perfect together when we switch cones after every block. And we talk about fun and how we have it. I mean, we don't know each other so well so it's not like there are any expectations, just this anticipation of something that looks good under streetlights. And there are people on the streets laughing, some of them coming out of bars or bookstores. He casually makes a reference to how it looks like fun, but really isn't. And of course I agree (and not because he's cute or because he gave me his jacket two and half blocks back when he noticed my teeth were chattering- but because I actually do agree with him). Of course I'm more quiet than usual because I'm terribly afraid I'll say all the wrong things. But then he looks at me and I can tell he really wants to know and I'm suddenly not afraid of saying anything because it makes a difference when someone really wants to know. And I tell him that swingsets are fun and that good books are fun and that good music is fun and great movies are fun and making popcorn with those little bags of real kernals you find at the grocery store- you know, the kind where you put it into a metal pot and throw one of those things that look like a small tennis racket over it and you jump every time a kernal pops and you laugh because it's silly.

He doesn't care that I sometimes talk in fragments and run-ons. He probably thinks it's cute or something. Or maybe even a symptom of nervousness, but it's not, it's just the way I think.

And he never once interrupts me, except this one time where he mentions that there's a block of uneven pavement coming up and that I should be careful.

And then I realize I'm talking too much and feel like an idiot (and I tell him this because I think he should know if he doesn't already).

And he tells me it's alright, that it's an improvement on the sound of the cars passing and the poeple yelling across the highways. And I believe him because he uses the word "really" twice in the sentence. I don't know if that makes a difference to you, but it does to me. Anytime someone uses "really" twice in a sentence, it always means something. Three times is overdone, but twice, twice is honest.

And he mentions that it's getting late and that the trains are going to come only every half hour now. He's only saying this so he can give me an easy way out- avoiding embarassment for either of us if I'm not really having a good time. He adds, of course, that there's an awesome record store just up the block that I should check out some time. This is just in case I interpreted his bus comment as him wanting to go home and getting bored with my company. I tell him now is as good a time as any because now really is. You ever realize that? When someone says they'll do something later or another day, they never do. It's just something they say because it sounds better than saying, "I don't give a crap about your record store, cd's are more popular anyway- and besides, who the hell listens to records these days?" I could be wrong, but when someone says they'll do something later, it just sounds like a brush off.

And so we go into this little record store in the middle of the block that has this tiny sign that probably about 5 people notice. It doesn't light up or blink or anything. It just just has the name of the store on a little banner above the door. And everything about it is little and simple and not begging for attention they way some things in the city often do. And I like it already.

He doesn't stay next to me the entire time and I like that too. Because he is who he is and I am who I am and we're bound to like different things. And instead of pretending to know what each other is talking about, we show each other album covers from across the aisles and read song titles to each other. Some of them are funny, some of them are sad, and some of them just sound like they were thought up on somebody's bad acid trip. And we laugh and we share and it's not like we have to like what the other person likes because we respect the differences and each other's opinions. And it's not like we're so set in our ways either because we both decide to pick something out we think the other person should listen to. And we each pay (seperately- because not all girls expect the guy to do all the work, even though we know he can and it's not about whether or not he can afford it or that historically, someone decided a long time ago that the guy just had to pay or else he wasn't a gentlemen and in fact was a cheapskate if he didn't). And we don't get to see what's in the bag until we get home. No peeking either. That's the only rule for the night.

And when we leave the record store, both of us say thank you to the guy behind the counter and we tell him to have a good night and to drive safe and he smiles and probably thinks we're on drugs because no one talks like that in city.

And sometimes the silence is awkward because if it wasn't, it'd be too easy. And I blush and look at my feet and he mumbles a low apology when his hand accidentally brushes mine and I like that he doesn't just take my hand without feeling a little scared about it. And I'll say that it's okay because I think hand holding is more intimate than kissing sometimes. And I think it means more too. Any guy will kiss a girl because, hell, kissing is at least first base and a great start at getting to second, but hand holding, well, that's different because there are no bases and it doesn't have to lead to anything else and it's just what it is and it's nice. I could be wrong, but I think it means that they really like you. And they don't just want to get in your pants.

I ask him about forty times if he wants his jacket back and he always says no. And he never gets annoyed with me for asking. I think he would if he thought I was doing it just for show, just saying it because I don't want to seem like I'm high maintenance and it seems like something that's appropriate to say and you don't actually expect him to say yes. But I say it because I'm really afraid he's getting cold and I feel bad because you can see your breath when you laugh and I don't want him getting sick. It's probably why he insists that I keep it on even when I try and take it off because I see him shiver.

And for a while we walk without saying anything really. He'll whistle and I'll hum. And he still holds my hand. And he'll point out places that he likes and maybe tell a story about when he was little or even make one up about a woman we saw walking the street. It doesn't have to be about what we do for a living or who our parents are or what we're going to do when we grow up (because no one ever grows up- not really, they just grow). And he doesn't ask what I look for in a guy and I don't ask him what kind of car he drives. Because those things don't matter and I'm really more interested in whether he's ever built a tree fort or if he likes old school U2 or their newer stuff.

And when we do decide it's gotten really late and we need to go to sleep, he doesn't invite me "back to his place" or ask me if I "want to come up for some coffee". He simply walks me to the bus station, hands me his number, tells me to call any time, and to get home safely. And because he doesn't try to kiss me, I give him my number and tell him I'd love to see him again when he's not busy and to sleep sweet. And now that we've both given each other something to show that we really do like each other and that it is mutual, now, we get to the kissing. But it's never on the lips. Because that's what happens in movies and it's too conventional. And it's a little scary and we're both nervous and taking incredibly small steps in case one of us decides to jump back at the last minute, but neither of us does and we laugh because we have to do something with the nervous energy. And he notices some small object in my hair (but not really because he just wants to have an excuse to touch me and I don't call him on it because I want him to as well). And so he brushes it out of my eyes (just like in the movies because that's one of the best parts about kissing scenes and everyone has a favorite cliche). And he leans in and kisses the edge of my cheek, right near my ear so he can whisper goodnight. And I smile into his shoulder as I hug him (because all good nights should really end with a hug and not the kiss).

And then I go to get on the bus, but realize I'm still wearing his jacket and so I turn around quickly and bump right into him because he won't leave until the bus goes out of his line of vision. And I laugh, and I mean really laugh- not just one of them girly giggle things that some girls do to be cute. Because I'm happy and I'm just terrible at hiding how I feel. And he helps me unzip the jacket 'cause my fingers are cold and he takes it back and tells me goodnight again and that he'll call me tomorrow.

And the best part is that when he says that he'll call me tomorrow, he actually does and it's not like two weeks later after he's decided enough time has passed where it's appropriate to make contact.

So my best friend asked me for advice about love and all I could come up with was this:

There is no ball. There is no court. Because it's not a game. So when you want to say something, say it. And if you're going to say it, mean it. There's no first move or last one. There are just moves and it doesn't matter who makes them. Not really. If you like someone, just like them. And tell them too. I mean, I don't know about you, but I think it's better to look like an idiot sometimes than be lonely for no reason. Don't you?

Le fin.

she's mad, but she's magic

friends only.

and i will try to fix you.

Also, John Green runs with the wolves.

An idealist's take on love and relationships...