Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

If you dial 1-866-584-6757, you can leave an audio post for your followers.

Trending Blogs
#amy santiago

“Ames, do you…collect stamps?” Jake asks, laughter in his voice as he pulls out a whole shoebox full to bursting with postage stamps and shaking it, incredulous at just how nerdy his girlfriend is. He’s cleaning out some of her drawers, preparing to move in, and he feels in this moment, as he does in every moment, complete awe at the woman in front of him and complete amusement at her ridiculous antics.

No! Those are just stamps–you never know when you might need to send letters!” she replies, indignant, apparently unaware that maintaining a thousand-stamp store “just in case” is so much worse.

5 notes · See All

There’s a chink in the old stained glass window in the building across the street.

Jake’s made a habit of staring at it whenever he’s perched in the windowsill in their living room - a perch he’s found himself visiting more and more often over the last few weeks, a perch he only discovered a mere eight months ago after living in this apartment for more than 2 years.  There’s nothing particularly special about it - nothing particularly comfortable, either, if he’s being honest - but he’s had this image in his head for more years than he’d care to confess, of his wife, untamed hair up in a half-hearted way that screams more utility than style, nose buried in a book, framed in a window seat against a sky speckled with brilliant hues of blue and orange and pink.

(Since she was nothing more than a colleague, he’s had this mental image, born after a very long night that ended with him driving the two of them back to the precinct from a scene across town; she’d pulled a book from her work bag in his back seat and read the whole way back, the atmosphere soft and comfortable despite the silence, and when he’d glanced at her from the driver’s seat her silhouette was set against the just-peaking rays of the morning sunrise.)

He’s had this image, but her apartment let him down, because she doesn’t have a window seat full of overstuffed pillows and luxurious throw blankets like he’d imagined; she has a thin wooden windowsill, off-white paint chipped on one corner after a day of shifting furniture, and it’s hardly wide enough to even count as a perch because he’s found that if he stays there any longer than five minutes his butt starts to go numb.

Keep reading

79 notes · See All

[x] // requester: anonymous


“Hey, Auntie Amy,” you call out as you walk into the living room. You’ve been staying with your uncle Jake for the weekend, not that you’re complaining. You absolutely adore spending time with Jake, who always makes things fun, as well as Amy. Amy looks up at you as you lay down a notebook on the table, and you ask, “Can you help me with my homework?”

Amy’s eyes light up with excitement. “Yeah! I’ll have you know, I was a great tutor in high school. Teachers always asked me to help tutor my classmates.”

You can’t help but bite back an amused smile at Amy’s nerdy enthusiasm, and Jake chuckles as he turns to you, asking, “Hey, why don’t you ask me for help.”

You and Amy can’t help but shoot Jake a look, and he gapes at the both of you, pretending to be offended. “What? I can help with homework!”

46 notes · See All
5 notes · See All
Next Page