i don't wanna jinx myself but have i gotten my groove back??
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sheepfilms

titsay

shark vs the universe

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@theartofmadeline
styofa doing anything
Xuebing Du
trying on a metaphor
dirt enthusiast
YOU ARE THE REASON

roma★

blake kathryn
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
we're not kids anymore.
Stranger Things
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Three Goblin Art

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@kmorecoffee
i don't wanna jinx myself but have i gotten my groove back??
yes, it's 2025, and we're falling in love with our works, and everything is going to turn out alright
Yesterday was the first reading of the Treaty Principles Bill and it passed. It is one of the most disgusting pieces of legislation to ever be introduced, it is racist and another act of colonial violence.
Hana-Rawhiti Maipi-Clarke, is the youngest MP since 1853 in Aotearoa's parliament, she is from Te Pāti Māori (Māori party) and is the MP for the Hauraki-Waikato electorate. Know her name, she has faced so much discrimination and violence especially since campaigning and continues to lead with power. She ripped up this disgusting bill and started a haka. The House was suspended after.
This is what the haka is. This is why us Māori do it.
I am so glad we have an opposition with a proud young wahine Māori like her. That we have a whole opposition who STOOD up in solidarity with Māori or who joined in this haka, MPs from Labour, Green, and Te Pāti Māori joined in.
Other MPs were kicked out, a very senior politician here, Willie Jackson was kicked out for rightly so calling Seymour a liar. And this haka is being called inappropriate by the right. It is not. You can't call the haka inappropriate only when it has brown bodies doing it as an act against colonial violence.
Fuck Seymour and as Rawiri Waititi said, see you next Tuesday. Ake ake ake!
some days i'd like nothing more than to collapse and let out a scream so loud it shakes the earth. i want to let all the grief i've been carrying out.
Currently editing: written in Starlight chapter 5.
How it's going: I'm pleased with how it's turning out but it's also a very emotional chapter.
when you're editing and then it turns into rewriting the chapter
Its finally September and we had heavy rain and thunder! Hoa hoa hoa season is coming!!
it's been a while since i've been on here. i've been busy with a lot of offline stuff. i have been in the trenches editing my original novel.
b"h it gets finished soon 💜💜
All writing journeys are valid
Don’t ever let anyone tell you there is only one right path for a writer to take.
Traditional publishing, self-publishing, or not publishing at all are all perfectly acceptable choices, and none of those choices makes you more or less of a writer.
Reblog the writers’ fortune cookie for luck!
Good luck Campers!
the meaning of things
so i binge watched vox machina in 2 days and here we are.
Keyleth sits outside, stares at the sky. It’s dark out; the sky an inky black, the only light coming from the stars.
She’s been sitting out here for hours, turning the words over and over in her mind, trying to make sense of them. I meant what I said yesterday.
I love you. That’s what he means.
Keyleth lets out a shaky breath, hugging her knees to her chest. It’s not as though she hasn’t noticed. Things have been different in a way she can’t explain.
Not that she’s ever been good at this sort of thing. Feelings have never really been her strong suit. Healing, fixing things, has always been the language of her soul. I don’t know how to fix this. How can I fix this when I don't even know it happened?
That doesn’t stop the look on Vax’s face when she said no from flashing in her mind. Keyleth groans, rests her face in her hands. “I'm a fool.” She stands, starts back towards the house.
Even though it's late out, the streets are full of people. Full of life.
Slipping inside, she starts down the hall, keeping her footsteps light. It doesn’t take long for her to reach Vax’s room. Keyleth hesitates before knocking.
The sound seems to echo in the quiet. Too loud. Too much.
Finally the door opens. Vax leans against the frame, sleep written all over his expression, hair sticking out in every which direction.
“I’m sorry.”
The words come out before she can stop them.
He doesn’t say anything. The silence is uncomfortable and awkward. “Come in, I guess.”
Keyleth nods, slipping inside. She tries to ignore the way his voice makes a jolt run through her. “I guess you know why I’m here.” More silence. Instead, he crosses the room in a few quick steps, curling up in the alcove. Keyleth follows silently, not bothering to try and catch up to him.
She doesn’t move to sit down next to him. Instead, she lets her gaze wander towards the stars that dot the sky, seeming to stretch endlessly as far as she can see.
“I didn’t think it was to stargaze.” Keyleth laughs, elbows him teasingly. She hesitates before sitting across from him, leaving a few inches of space between them.
Neither of them says anything. Keyleth drums her fingers against the wood. It’s rough beneath her fingers, grooves worn by time. “I wasn't expecting you to say that. No one’s ever said that to me before.”
Once again, the word seems to spill out seemingly of their own accord.
Vax chuckles, “I didn’t mean to scare you with that.”
“You didn’t scare me.” Keyleth’s words come out quiet, barely audible. “It just surprised me.”
Silence falls over them once again, a comforting blanket of familiarity. “I feel the same way.” Her words come out as a whisper, so soft the smallest gust of wind could carry them away.
“I just, I’m not good at this sort of thing.” Sighing, Keyleth shifts her gaze back towards the window. The inky black draws her in, seemingly making everything disappear.
“I’ll wait. I care about you, you know.” Keyleth meets his gaze as he says this. Her lips curve upwards slightly, smile growing wider.
She’s acutely aware of him leaning in, the space between them shrinking rapidly. They’re close enough now that barely a few inches separate them. “I know. I care about you too, Vax.”
Keyleth hesitates before leaning in, pressing her lips against his, world falling away as everything comes together.
where the shadows meet the light
The darkness fades to light. Patroclus blinks.
All he sees is light.
“Patroclus.”
Achilles. His name sits on his tongue.
“Are you there?” His voice is warm and comforting, honey laced words sending a
Patroclus stretches his hand out. Only darkness meets him at first.
Something reaches out. Someone.
Achilles.
Illuminated by the golden rays of Apollo, he seems otherworldly.
The space between them closes in an instant.
Patroclus tilts his head up, meeting Achilles’ gaze. “I’m right here.” It’s whisper soft, but here in the quiet stillness, it seems to echo all around.
The only thing louder is the sound of his heart pounding in his chest. Achilles smiles and it only makes his heart beat faster.
He leans in, presses his lips against Achilles’. His lips taste of almond and honey.
Achilles threads his fingers through his hair, pulling him closer. A sigh slips past his lips.
They are one again. Two halves of the same soul pieced back together, though not quite a perfect fit.
War has shaped them, molded them into different people than they were.
Achilles, battle hardened and weary from years of fighting.
But there’s still the same softness, still the same delicacy to his features. Most alluring though was the softness in his eyes, golden flecks shining like constellations.
And he, too, is battle hardened, though not as much as Achilles. The scar on his wrist aches, a reminder of everything. Perhaps the worst reminder, are the memories.
Ghosts that never leave.
For now, none of that matters. Now is for the lost moments, for everything that War stole away.
Reluctantly, Patroclus pulls away. He meets Achilles’ gaze, eyes bright and irresistible. “Let’s go home,” he whispers.
Achilles nods, laces his fingers through his. Hesitantly, they step forwards. Hand in hand, they find their way back; shadows falling away as they bask in the light.
There’s one of these in Boston, the Vilna Shul (https://vilnashul.org/about/our_history). The interior painting was primarily a Lithuanian thing, hence why most of them have been destroyed. The Vilna is one of few surviving examples and the murals are perpetually in need of preservation funding.
Eastern European Jewish immigrants arrived in the city of Boston in large numbers beginning in the 1880’s. With little or no income, they lo
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awwwwww @how-are-those-nuts-sarge lynn thank you sm for the tag 🥺🥺💜💜
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awwwwww 🥺🥺😭😭💜💜 omg nonnie you're so sweet.
Goodbye Kiss
A little drabble I wrote during my re-read of Lovely War. If you haven't read Lovely War by Julie Berry, do it. It's amazing. Side note: this isn't my OC Hazel.
Hazel wakes up, her nerves already high. Today James leaves for the front. She doesn’t want him to go. It’s a selfish thought and she knows it. How can she watch as he marches toward what could very well lead to his death? No. She can’t think like that. James will make it back. He has to.
Hazel gets dressed in a daze, barely noticing the world around her. She starts down the street towards the train station, pulling her coat tight around her to block out the cold. Has it only been a week since they met? It seems impossible. So much has happened in such a short time.
Hazel slips into the station a few moments later, a reprieve from the damp cold. It doesn’t take her long to spot James. The sight of him standing there in his uniform clutching his bags suddenly hits her. This it. He’s going off to war.
“Hi,” James says, lacing his fingers through hers. “I didn’t think you were going to come.” Hazel squeezes his hand lightly, trying to memorize how her hand feels in his. Who knows how long he'll be gone. If he’ll make it back.
Hazel forces a smile on her face, hoping James can't see past her façade. “Of course I came.” I love you. Please don't go. How badly she wants to say those words. She can't, though. It's not fair to him. Tears well in her eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. “I'll miss you,” she finally says.
“I'll be back soon. Promise me one thing, though?” James says, a small smile tugging at his lips. Oh, that smile. What she would do to see that smile every day. “Keep my heart safe while I'm gone,” he says, moving her hand over his heart.
The tears Hazel’s been fighting back finally spill over, blurring her vision. Her hands cradle his cheeks, pulling him close, as she kisses him softly. She shouldn’t be doing this. Falling in love with the soldier boy going off to war. “Always,” she whispers, resting her head against his shoulder as he hugs her tight.
The train whistle sounds, cutting through the air like a siren. “I guess I better get going,” James says. Hazel hugs him tight one more time, wishing they could stay like this forever as she watches him go, taking a little piece of her heart with him.
Dick and Melanie | Snow White AU
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA KELSEY I LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS SM 🥺🥺🥺😍😍😍💜💜💜