LectionaryStan

Hi. I’ve been thinking about this for a fucking week and a half.

https://greywatch.tumblr.com/post/180003939791/audio_player_iframe/greywatch/tumblr_mzok12M9sU1qb7x4q?audio_file=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.tumblr.com%2Faudio_file%2Fgreywatch%2F180003939791%2Ftumblr_mzok12M9sU1qb7x4q

frenchnavyy:

Karen O – Moon Song

I’m lying on the moon
My dear, I’ll be there soon
It’s a quiet starry place
Time’s we’re swallowed up
In space we’re here a million miles away

There’s things I wish I knew
There’s no thing I keep from you
It’s a dark and shiny place
But with you my dear
I’m safe and we’re a million miles away

We’re lying on the moon
It’s a perfect afternoon
Your shadow follows me all day
Making sure I’m okay and
We’re a million miles away

velocesmells:

a fashion icon, like my mother before me

lesliebensgone:

You’ve got to throw some cold water on the situation. Start talking about nerd stuff.

capthawkeye:

022218 Warm Embrace

@b-griveros: It was nice to do a first collaboration with Mar; she sent me the reference and I couldn’t get the image out of my head. I needed to draw. And then, with this new perspective Marilyn captures perfectly the atmosphere between them two. I f*cking love this woman and I’m thankful she’s been inspiring and motivating me to improve over the past months. Thank you so much for existing, Marilyn, and I hope everyone gets a little warm ache in the chest.

Rated: T for cursing. || Words: ~1400

“Come here.”

“Colonel.”

“Lieutenant, give me your hand.”

She didn’t lack the temptation, but – “At any moment, someone can walk in.”

“So Breda will let us know.”

“It’s really… it’s all right, I’m all right. Your coat… it’ll be enough.”

“No…” From his seat, he reached blindly for her hand. “Come here. ….just rest now.”

A mixture of determination, ire, concern, and adrenaline surged through her veins. Rebecca Catalina was hellbent on finding Riza, but even hell hath no fury like a woman on a mission to find her comrade-at-arms, her closest friend…

The only sister she’s ever known.

After victory was assured, amidst the mayhem, literal hours went on trying figure out which hospital Riza and the Colonel had been sent to and her heart plunged, desperation brimming at the cusp, because only Mustang’s wellbeing had been reported. What about his adjutant, the Lieutenant? She had asked. The blonde who was always next to him, where was she? She’s important too. If not more. The hours of radio silence felt like decades, and her exhaustion served to irritate her more than she already was. How difficult was it, really, to find someone who had been in the heart of it all? How do you misplace the decorated matchstick?

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