Allis in Wonderland @litwithjenn - Tumblr Blog

hollanovhumping

heated rivalry ☆ season one first & last touch + bonus credits:

nobrashfestivity

Unknown, Cigarette card

NYPL

infpisme

gayvampyr

jeahfeelyou

litwithjenn

kattygirls:

fallska-deactivated20221117

Yeah so there was a pumpkin on fire in my science class today

kianayouwanna

tHE SKELETONS HAVE A NEW ENEMY

xekstrin

EVERYONE HAIL TO THE PUMPKIN KING

winterandwords

I'm not sure I can express this sentiment strongly enough, but I'm going to try via the medium of large bolded text.

Write what the fuck you want.

Write what makes you happy. Write what makes your soul sing. Write what fucks you up and makes you cry. Write what comforts you. Write what distracts you. Write what you want to read. Write what you want to watch.

Write what you want to dream about tonight.

Write what you can't get enough of. Write what you're completely obsessed with. Write what wakes you up at 4am and drags you out of bed because you can't stop thinking about what your characters are going to do next.

Write what turns you on, if that's your vibe. Write characters you're in love with and characters who inspire you and characters you want to be friends with and characters you fucking hate but oh my god they're so much fun.

Write about things you would sell your soul to do in real life and things you would never do in real life. Write about things that are happening right now and things that happened a thousand years ago and things that might happen in the future and things you wish could happen.

Write to get a publishing deal or to sell your books yourself or not to sell your books at all. Write for your friends or for strangers or for the people who reblog your posts on Tumblr and send you songs that remind them of your characters.

Write for yourself.

Fuck any system that tells you there's only one right way to create or one valid way to share your writing. Your story, the way you tell it, has so much value. Make people smile or piss people off or do both of those things because art is divisive and fascinating and beautiful.

Start writing. Keep writing. And write what the fuck you want.

ruvviks

TOOL: OC QUESTIONS GENERATOR

a neat little generator that gives you a random question for your ocs! find the generator here! // my oc page (if you’re interested)

>> FEATURES

over 600 different questions, covering every aspect of character building

easy to use, no unnecessary distractions, just a very straightforward generator

content warnings on the page itself, as well as in the first screenshot

will receive updates every now and then when i come up with new questions!

>> NOTES

please send me a dm if there’s a content warning missing, i’ll add it to the page immediately!

if you have any ideas for questions, feel free to let me know and if they’re not on the list already, i’ll add them!

feel free to use this tool for personal projects or tell your friends about it, as long as you don’t try to steal the code of the page or claim the generator as your own :)

i do not take credit for all the questions in this generator, i’ve gathered them at some point from both my own brain as well as stuff online

likes are always welcome, reblogs much appreciated! also consider checking out my art while you’re here B)

iamnotshazam

"our son made it through the war to come of age, let's fucken party! rsvp only if you're a little bitch who's NOT coming. all y'all not dead of alcohol poisoning by morning (lmao losers) get dunkt on"

beyondthisdarkhouse

The LAYERS of this being November 1945.

Christopher Tolkien's 21st birthday. He'd joined the RAF in the summer of 1943, trained as a pilot in South Africa, then served in Europe until after the war ended there. This was a few months after he transferred to the naval reserves. I think he finally started university the following year, as opposed to his brother, who was already enrolled in university when he joined the Army in 1939, and then kept putting his academic career on hold to serve as an anti-aircraft gunner in England and France, so he only managed to graduate six years later in 1945.

So at least part of this invitation is: It's 1945. Hitler is dead. The war is on its last legs. The boys are home safe. They seem to have survived after all. We got some good booze. Let's get wrecked.