time to revive this blog

blake kathryn

shark vs the universe
$LAYYYTER
One Nice Bug Per Day

Janaina Medeiros
Monterey Bay Aquarium
i don't do bad sauce passes
AnasAbdin
hello vonnie

Product Placement
wallacepolsom
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Keni
Not today Justin
art blog(derogatory)
Peter Solarz
KIROKAZE

Kaledo Art
Cosmic Funnies

Origami Around

seen from Italy

seen from United Kingdom

seen from Germany

seen from Singapore
seen from Germany
seen from Türkiye
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Greece
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States

seen from Türkiye

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from Russia
seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom
@kaeish
time to revive this blog
Sometimes it’s really lonely being an author. Because when you’re writing, you’re doing it alone, and there’s no one there to gush over silly feelings with you.
And I suppose that’s why reader comments are important to authors. It’s not about the compliments. It’s that we’ve been alone with our thoughts this whole time. It’s an awesome feeling when a friend shows up to share them with you.
70 horrible questions ... Fuck it
01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?
im bored 🤙🏻 send me an ask if you rb
Intro
Hi, I’m Tianna and I’m 16 and I go by she/her pronouns. I’m a poc and I’m pansexual. I post about a lot of things including feminism, body positivity, and writeblr.
Im really shy and awkward but my dms are always open and I look forward to making friends. I follow back if your an active account.
writing ask game
made for novels, but can be used for fanfiction or other types of writing!
describe the plot in 1 sentence.
pick one sight, smell, sound, feel, and taste to describe the aesthetic of your novel.
which 3+ songs would make up a playlist for the novel?
what’s the time period and location in which the novel takes place?
is this a standalone or a part in a series?
are there any former titles you’ve considered but discarded?
how many times does the word ____ appear in the novel?
what’s the first line that comes up when you search _____?
what’s the first line of your novel?
what’s a line of dialogue you’re particularly proud of?
which line from the novel most represents it as a whole?
who are your character faceclaims?
sort your characters into harry potter houses!
which character’s name do you like the most?
describe each character’s daily outfit.
do any characters have distinctive birthmarks/scars?
pick a color to represent each character.
pick a font to represent each character.
which character most fits a character trope? which trope?
which character is the best writer? worst?
which character is the best liar? worst?
which character swears the most? least?
which character has the best handwriting? worst?
which character is most like you? least like you?
which character would you most like to be?
what i’m thinking when i like your post even though no part of it applies to me
The Good Place - Season 2 Bloopers (Digital Exclusive)
hello indie rp, it’s been a hot minute since I posted on this blog but i’m back lowkey and brought three muses to this blog. LIP, BRIN & ALEC’S INFORMATION CAN BE FOUND HERE and I would love to rp
please like this post for a starter and I’ll write some up tonight / tomorrow when I get up.
I came across this very odd pond in a forest
#it’s fucking fairies get away from it
put ur foot in there and you’ll never be seen again
(If people were wondering, this is probably a vernal pond- a temporary body of water that typically forms after heavy rains. They can form in the same place year after year but rarely last more than a month or two)
…says the fairy apologist ¬_¬
I mean, A body of water with a part-time existence that in some places is the only source of fresh water for miles so it attracts every animal in the area, perfectly preserves whatever it swallows until it vanishes and leaves a pile of goo and is named after an equinox is still pretty fucking Fae.
I really cannot imagine what it’s like admitting that you’re afraid of making small mistakes because you know your friends will turn on you in a snap
This is basically what I mean by “you guys need to get a personality trait that isn’t tumblr drama” because y’all out here destroying relationships and making your friends scared to stand up to you/disagree with you and then argue that having a normal and healthy relationship is “emotional labor”.
Like it’s fucking weird
Like I’m just going to come out and say it, but if your friendship makes you feel scared and anxious of stepping out of line or leaving your friend because you’ll know you’ll deal with harmful/negative consequences, then it’s not a stable relationship.
It’s abuse. You should never feel scared of upsetting your friend over basic mistakes or your own personal needs. Just get out of there.
READ IT REBLOG IT PREACH IT
Say it louder
An excerpt of The Awakening.
(Thanks @writings-of-a-tired-ravenclaw for tagging me)
(English version)
- He will wake up in a few hours. I have to go check on Amaia. Make sure he drinks when he wakes up. Koios didn’t wait for Galen to answer and left, closing the door behind him. Galen looked down at Hassan and settled down a little more comfortably. He spent the first half hour checking every 5 minutes if his breathing was stable. The next half hour was devoted to counting the plates of the ceilings and the walls. Hassan slept, his chest gently rising with each of his inspirations. Except for the wind outside, a disconcerting silence weighed on Galen’s shoulders. He spent the next 3 hours pacing the small white room, rushing to the bed at the slightest beep or rustle. Koios came back twice, administered the same vials to Hassan and then left with a simple nod toward Galen. Koios was troubled, and Galen knew that the situation with Amaia had changed, unfortunately, he didn’t know if it was for the better or not. He didn’t know what to do now. He hadn’t had time to test his theory. And he doubted he could ever do it, since he was pretty sure Nyssa would never let him go near Amaia ever again. Once again the possibility of her sending him back to the ignorant side crossed his mind and he pinched the bridge of his nose.
(Version française)
Koios n’attendit pas que Galen réponde et sortit en fermant la porte derrière lui. Galen baissa les yeux vers Hassan et s’installa un peu plus confortablement. Il passa la première demi heure a vérifier toutes les 5 minutes si sa respiration était stable. La demi heure qui suivie fut consacrée a compter les plaques du plafonds et du mur. Hassan dormait, sa poitrine se soulevant doucement a chacune de ses inspirations. A part le vent dehors, un silence déconcertant pesait sur les épaules de Galen. Il passa les 3h qui suivirent faire les cents pas dans la petite chambre blanche, a se précipiter vers lit au moindre bip ou bruissements. Koios repassa 2 fois, administra les mêmes fioles a Hassan puis repartait avec un simple hochement de tête vers Galen. Koios était embêté et Galen savait que la situation avec Amaia venait d’évoluer, malheureusement il ne savait pas si c’était pour le mieux ou pas. Il ne savait plus quoi faire à présent. Il n’avait pas eu le temps de tester sa théorie. Et il doutait pouvoir un jour le faire, puisqu’il était a peu près sur que Nyssa ne le laisserait plus jamais s’approcher d’Amaia. Encore une fois la possibilité qu’elle le renvoie du côté des ignorants traversa son esprit et il se pinça l’arrête du nez.
Taglist: @authory @sleepy-and-anxious @kaeish @annjonesbooks @delphwrites @georgiacambrielwritblr
The challenge is to write something from any of your WIPs and to post it, it can be as small as a dialogue.
To the mother of my nephews,
I remember the last time this happened, oh, I mean the time before last. When it actually stuck, because you stayed at your mother’s house and you thought you could do it again. It was a week after thanksgiving I think. My mother texted me to come upstairs and I could feel the anxiety pulse through my veins because it was two AM and that never happened before. I remember walking up the stairs to her door and knocking. Hearing my brother’s voice and opening the door to see him standing there with my nephew. He was only two at the time. Actually, he just turned two the month before... Wow, it’s almost been a year. I remember looking at my mother and father who were still half asleep and she said it.
“She’s gone.”
You cheated on my brother that time and last night you did it again. You’re a drunk, a nasty, disgusting, awful human being who deserves to rot in jail for the abuse you’ve caused to your soon to be ex husband and two children. One of your children is in desperate need for some serious attention and you know what I’m talking about. But rather than showcasing you actually give a shit about him you’re out with “friends” every night getting trashed and cheating on your husband with disgusting boys you met on dating apps.
And what’s fucked up? Is what I just stated happened in the past six months since you came back. Couple weeks before my birthday you were back in my kitchen telling me all about how you were going to aa meetings. How horrible you felt knowing I was raising your kids the past four months. How bad it made you feel knowing I was up at seven AM and putting your six year old on the bus and teaching your two year old how to talk and use the potty. How guilty you felt knowing I was being paid one hundred dollars every other week for fifty hours a week. How you were going to do so much better and be better because you wanted to get help and you knew you were sick.
And then that lasted a week, and you were just gonna drink on your weekends, because you weren’t an alcoholic you only drank so much because you were with your mother. You know your limit.
And then that lasted a month, and you were back to a box a wine every couple of days.
Tomorrow is your son’s birthday. His third birthday won’t be one he celebrates with his mom and hopefully this turns into a tradition because you’d just use it as an excuse to get wasted. It’s not like you actually like spending time with them unless someone is around. I literally came upstairs Friday to see the television was off, the iPad was on at the table and you were on the couch across the room on your phone ignoring your son. It wasn’t until I came upstairs did you start playing with him and I heard you when I went down. “Alright, that’s enough. Go play on the iPad.”
All you ever did was complain when you had to watch your kids. For the first time in over a year, my brother went out to see some friends for a football draft. The entire week before this all you did was complain that you had to stay home and he was going out, despite the fact that every single weekend you go out and leave him at home alone because you want to drink. Then, when he came home early to be with you and the kids, you went out again.
I have so fucking much I want to say. Like how you’re “not” an alcoholic despite the fact you wake yourself up every day with a box of wine. You make sure to have liquor in your cup before going to work. You make sure to have a “road soda” any time you go out for family events like parties. You get so drunk at my sisters house it’s almost tradition now that you puke all over the bathroom or in the backyard behind a tree. How we went a week without bread or milk but you were sure to get your box of wine and cigarettes. How both your six year old son and three year old son know the smell of liquor on your breath.
When you first came into our lives five years ago you used to tell me about how you had to bring your mother upstairs and put her to bed when you were fifteen and you left to live with your father at sixteen because she was such an alcoholic drunk. I used to hear all the time in school how history repeats itself. Never before has that sentence rung more true. You are your mother. A hurricane who leaves nothing but destruction in it’s path.
Once upon a time, I would worry for you. Hope you got help for your alcoholism. Hope you one day opened your eyes and saw how important your sons are and how they should be your whole world. But now I have one thing to ask.
Do you need a refill?
I would worry for your children, but I know they’ll be okay. Because I’ll be the mom they’ve always needed. Actually, I always have been. I’ll be the one who puts your six year old on the bus in the mornings and wish him a good day. I’ll be the one who kisses your three year old’s ouchies and celebrate his birthday with him tomorrow. Don’t worry, bitch, someone does care about your children. Someone does want them to grow up to be productive members of society. Someone does care about what happens to them.
Once upon a time I’d say I’m sorry you’ll never have a strong bond with your children.
But this isn’t a fairytale, and I’m not sorry at all. You don’t deserve them after all the emotional abuse you’ve put them through. You don’t even deserve to be called a mom. You’re nothing more than a drunk birth giver.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I’ll never speak ill on your name. Your sons will never hear from me that you’re a disgusting excuse for a woman. Your sons will never know all the terrible things you told me about their father, my brother. Your sons will never know all the times you told me you couldn’t stand them and you didn’t want to be in charge of them. Your sons will never know that you would drink 24/7 just so you didn’t have to be in a sober state of mind with them. Or at least, they won’t find out from me.
It’s such a cliche but I know how this will all play out. When your oldest is ten and the youngest is seven you will have them for the weekend. You’ll be trashed and the ten year old will be in charge of the seven, watching as you take back wine glass after wine glass. Listening as you motherfuck myself, my mother, my brother, my sister and everyone else who has done nothing but support you and try to care for you the past five years. And when I was young I never understood why they’d have a woman like that in the movies. What was the point of talking horribly about the people who took care of you and tried to better you?
But I know now. It’s because of jealousy and boy oh boy is jealousy a fickle bitch. You’re jealous because you know the boys are going to see you as you saw your mother, and us as you saw your father. The reliable support.
I know that I’m going to have to go through a lot of turmoil now. I know I’m going to have to put on a brave face and smile when the boys ask where you are. I know I’m going to have to be an adult and I think I am finally ready to take on this responsibility.
But that’s okay. Because I’ve been doing it all along.
“Well maybe if you didn’t spend so much time on Tumblr you’d finish your story.”
Me:
Brainstorming plot ideas with writer friends:
@svperwriter