I am a Whovian and I love SuperWhoLock. I post Supernatural, Sherlock, Doctor Who, the occassional human rights post and/or news about what's happening in other countries. I am going to university in New York. My major is in Public Justice. I love looking at crime scenes and trying to figure out what kind of person committed it. It's fun, like solving a puzzle, except you have to find the hints, they're not given to you. I love people and I love helping people. I love giving advice and listening to people's problems. So if you ever want to talk, I'm all ears. Wow, this is a long description. “Despite what you’ve read, your sadness is not beautiful. No one will see you in the bookstore, curled up with your Bukowski, and want to save you. Stop waiting for a salvation that will not come from the grey-eyed boy looking for an annotated copy of Shakespeare, for an end to your sadness in Keats. He coughed up his lungs at 25, and flowery words cannot conceal a life barely lived. Your life is fragile, just beginning, teetering on the violent edge of the world. Your sadness will bury you alive, and you are the only one who can shovel your way out with hardened hands and ragged fingernails, bleeding your despair into the unforgiving earth. Darling, you see, no heroes are coming for you. Grab your sword, and don your own armor.” (via "starredsoul")
Does anyone else feel weirdly attracted to Abel after Hear My Hope? I don’t know if it’s his squishable face, him growing a backbone, or it’s just Patrick Stump’s voice, but I feel a certain way about him.
A herd of bison has returned to Burlington Prairie in Kane County, part of a long-awaited return led by the American Indian Center
From the article:
In Kane County, members of the Native American community gathered in December to welcome back a relative that's been missing for generations.
A herd of bison has returned to Burlington Prairie, part of a long-awaited return led by the American Indian Center—honoring Native stewardship of the land and reconnecting culture, history, and community.
"Sometimes we have stories that begin with back in the times when all things spoke," said Robert Wapahi, a tribal elder with the Santee Sioux. "If nothing else, it's the history lessons about what should be done to protect them."
This story starts just after sunrise on Burlington Prairie, where a community came together to honor a return of sorts; a return to land and to home
"For us to be able to be a part of this, it just adds that special moment for us to kind of share," said
"It's different when you're welcoming them back home. That's their home, not mine," Wapahi said.
For @flufftober day 12 | Alt. Prompt: "You kept this?"
Ransom Drysdale x reader (established relationship)
Not beta'd. I do not give permission for my work to be reposted, copied, translated or put through an AI machine. all my work is 18+. Dividers by @/strangergraphics
Tags/warnings: nothing but fluff
Summary: Ransom finds a photo you kept for him.
Word count:???
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"You kept this?" Ransom holds up a photo frame, blowing dust from it as he lifts it from its box. "I thought I threw it out."
"You did." You say absently, straightening a newly placed canvas on the wall. "I rescued it from the trash."
Ransom runs a thumb over over the glass pane, watching the faces of himself and his grandfather Harlan come into view again. After being disowned and shunned from his family, he had stomped through his apartment tearing down and throwing out every photo he could in a fit of emotional fury.
You had been there for him; literally and figuratively. The rock in the river that he needed to hug to keep from drowning. However, just when he thought he could keep his head above water, Harlan had died - leaving Ransom with no way to reconcile with his only favourite family member.
When he looks up at you, you're already turning to face him with a soft half-smile. "I knew you'd regret it. Despite everything, he was your grandpa. And he loved you, in his own - very odd - way."
"Thank you." He murmurs. "But he was still a bastard."
You shrug, and wrap your arms around your boyfriend, squeezing tight and placing a kiss atop his head. "Yes, well, you don't need to hang up the photo or make a shrine hun. But it's here for when you need it."
As he places his free hand over yours, Ransom wonders what he'd ever do without you.
End
🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁
A/N: a very short and late one due to the fact that life hit me like a freight train haha.