Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Janaina Medeiros
Monterey Bay Aquarium
h
Kaledo Art
Sweet Seals For You, Always
PR's Tumblrdome
NASA
No title available
No title available
Sade Olutola
Peter Solarz
titsay
JVL
Cosmic Funnies
$LAYYYTER
#extradirty
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
noise dept.
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
seen from Brazil
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@lothioriens
hi! i’m bee, and this is my writing blog. this is where I take fic requests, talk about my fics, talk about my friends’ fics, and promote my work!
if you have a request, or you’d just like to talk to me about my fics, my askbox is open!
my ao3: lothIoriens (lothioriens, capital ‘i’)
my ko-fi
writing again.
IMAGE DESCRIPTION: Black text on a white background. Text reads:
By the time the new year loomed, he had given up all hope. Then, like a light in the darkness, like a canary in the coal mine, one day Jean shuffled into his room (Kevin could not tell if it was due to his nerves or the bruises) and wordlessly held out a small envelope. Kevin snatched it up instantly, eyes drinking in the handwriting, the careful, messy script he’d read so many times he’d know it anywhere. He tore it open, forgetting Jean, forgetting everything as he read:
(The following text is italicized).
Kev,
I hope you didn’t think I was dead.
(Italics end).
Kevin almost had the good grace to feel embarrassed that N could see through him so easily, but he pressed it down and kept reading.
(The following text is italicized).
I kissed someone. My mom nearly killed me for it, and it wasn’t even good. I guess you don’t care. I don’t know, I just wanted to pretend for a moment. She was pretty and French (Canadian, I guess, if it matters), and I know I’m supposed to want that. But it’s been so long since I wanted anything but to stop running. Or anything but exy.
I managed to catch some of your news. I really think you’re going to go pro. What team do you most want to play for? Do you think about those things? Do you care, as long as you’re playing?
Do you want Riko by your side forever, or are you going to stop living in his shadow?" Italics end. Quote ends. END ID.
BTW i see these posts all the time like "ohhh i dont know what to comment on fics.." and every response is "keysmashes! or hearts!! anything works :3" and thats GREAT!! thats helpful!!
but: consider. if u genuinely like analyzing writing.. do u know ur just allowed to go through and quote your favorite parts and ramble abt what they mean to u and the author will LOSE IT WITH HYPE?
genuinely. i felt SO WEIRD the first time i did it.. but like. holy shit authors love it. its crack for authors. the first time i did it, it was on a fic that hadnt updated in half a year, give or take, and the author made 3 updates that month BECAUSE OF MY COMMENT.
LIKE. as an author every comment is INCREDIBLE!!! but also, dont feel like your comment has to be short or otherwise ur invasive or smth!! authors ADORE long comments more than ANYTHING.
maybe your fanfic doesn’t have to change someone’s life maybe it can just brighten someone’s day for a bit
Any eldest daughter Dick recs? Fluff or angst idc tyy
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
'poison oak' by lothIoriens
Author: @lothioriens
Dick had...Dick had been so insistent on leaving. It made Jason feel a little unmoored. He hadn’t even been there at the manor that long. What had Dick seen that made him fuck off with Jason?
And he knew Dick had seen something. If not physically, he’d seen it in Bruce. Jason knew Dick Grayson probably could read the Batman better than anyone else alive.
“Why should I go with you?” Jason had asked him that night.
“We don’t put kids in harm’s way. I don’t know why he thought it was a good idea to start with you.”
You were a kid too, Jason wanted to say. But that wasn’t something you said to the Boy Wonder, the first protege, your older brother.
Something had made it so Dick stopped being Robin. Jason got the feeling it was really a someone, based on Dick’s reaction the first time he saw him in costume. He didn’t ask. Dick didn’t tell.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
I feel the need to throw something from the 'Owl Song' series in your general direction as well. I love talon!Dick.
'I heard a bird sing in the dark of December' by Ghxst_Bird
Author: @ghost-bxrd
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
new chapter out!!! the final chapter before the epilogue/conclusion!!! two years in the making!!!
you can also start from the beginning
hope you enjoy!!!
if you are distressed about not receiving a response from someone you'd like to be actively talking to, you have to take a moment. step back from the conversation, put yourself in their shoes. perhaps they're busy with something right now. you have to consider the possibility that maybe they hanging upside down by their ankle. everybody has their own schedule, and sometimes people spend time away from their phone or computer because they are currently suspended from a tree branch by a rope tied around their ankle that they unnoticingly stepped in because it was concealed by a pile of leafs. it's not that they don't want to respond; imagine that they can see their phone screen on the ground below but it's a good few inches out of reach and even if they bounce and flail on the branch their fingertips just can't touch it. sometimes life gets in the way
tumblr user wrenhavenriver this is the best idea I've ever heard
3rd base is when we start to share horrifying prophetic dreams
love the genre of horror that's just "the house is alive"
Zhiyong Jing, My Sunshine Sleeps In Your Darkness
waiting very impatiently to post the next chapter of a haunted ballroom tomorrow
omg a haunted ballroom chapter 10 snippet...
IMAGE DESCRIPTION: Screenshot from a written work in progress. Black text on a white background. Text reads:
He didn’t want to ask, but there was no border between his thoughts and hers, so when the question, What happened to you? Popped into his mind, he could not stop her from hearing.
The ghosts misted away like they had when the striga touched them, and then the golden memory followed after. A blue tint shadowed the room, and when the next scene appeared, it made Dick feel colder. He shivered reflexively.
I was haunted, Minerva said. Around the corner slunk the owl-beast, the striga, following the small Minerva. Dick was suspended, watching, unable to move or cry out. As she hopscotched through the hallway, the striga snuck along behind her, almost like a dance.
When she finally turned around, the striga mirrored her exactly, her head tilt and her movements.
“Why, hello,” she said, still moving about to watch it copy her. “What are you?”
“Striiiiiiiigaaaaaaa,” it answered.
I didn’t know to be afraid, Minerva whispered in his head.
End text. Three sentences are italicized: "what happened to you," "I was haunted," and "I didn't know to be afraid."
END ID.
me? actively writing star wars fic? yeah
IMAGE DESCRIPTION: Screenshot from a written work in progress. Black text on a white background. Text reads:
Reath Silas was not brooding. No, as he sat on the creaky porch of the old house and stared at the mountains in the distance, he was in fact thinking of nothing at all. Reath didn’t think you could count that as brooding, no matter what Bell said.
The screen door slammed behind him, and the porch creaked louder as Bell walked over and then sat down next to him. He held two cups and set one down next to Reath.
“What’s that?” Reath asked, keeping his eyes trained on the horizon.
“Fruit punch. Thought you’d want some while you’re out here brooding.”
“I’m not brooding,” Reath said. “It’s nice out. About to rain. I’m getting fresh air.”
“Uh huh.” Bell said, unconvinced. “Well, you’re right. It’s not bad out. Consider the fruit punch celebratory, then.”
END ID.
people with siblings love saying shit like "you never played first degree murder knife chase?"
fuck it. a haunted ballroom chapter 9 excerpt under the cut.
He stood, frozen, unsure whether to run, or if he even could run. The person tilted their head and stepped closer, surveying him, sniffing him out. They froze inches from his face.
“Seer,” they said, and he was shocked to hear a child’s voice from the beak of the creature.
“You’re the striga,” he breathed.
“Striiiigaaaa,” they echoed, and he swore he could see a smile in their face. “You’re not very fun to play with. You always run away.”
“I was scared of you,” Dick replied, staring into their yellow eyes.
“Why?” They asked, tilting their head again. “I’m just like you.”
