Happy fox

Origami Around

★
Sweet Seals For You, Always

ellievsbear

oozey mess
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
taylor price

PR's Tumblrdome
KIROKAZE
h

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

pixel skylines
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
wallacepolsom
Claire Keane
Sade Olutola
RMH
sheepfilms
noise dept.
d e v o n

seen from Türkiye

seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom
@regankubena
Happy fox
Beholden (Sneak Peek)
Below is a sneak peek on an anthology, which I am hoping to have complete and published by the end of next year. Please let me know your thoughts.
1867: Islay, Scotland
Isabella
In the silence of a moonless night
A woman sat, scribbling a letter in a candle’s fading light
Exhausted and determined, she laid her head on the wooden desk
He wouldn’t know the truth, not until she left
She tried to hold back the tears, he wouldn’t notice her absence,
He probably wouldn’t care
The past few days, he hadn’t even said a word
No vocal endearment, when she said “I love you,”
it was like he hadn’t heard.
But she had to leave, before he knew
The secrets that love couldn’t undo
Absently she laid a flat hand to her stomach, and looked out to the night
He would be upset, but she knew her course was right
For she loved the sodden oaf of a fool
But she was so scared, it would turn him away
If he couldn’t even say the word “love”
What to a child would he say?
She placed the letter, carefully bound on his chair
The memories bombarded her, every room, everything they shared
But she walked to the fireplace and lit the wood
Watching the fire turn into flames, she hoped he understood
She picked up her suitcase and pulled her shoulders back
She could do this. She could stay brave
Yet she couldn’t help but feel this mistake would be grave.
Calum
In the thunderous quiet of a moonless night
A man stood, battling an inner fight
Foreboding and still, in front of that fire he stood
Until the flames devoured the crumbling wood
White knuckles tightly gripped a flask
The other hand cradled a letter, she said it was her last
Her feminine script, decorated that page
Yet, it was her last sentence that sent him into a rage:
“Dearest love, please don’t be mad,
It’s for these reasons I must leave as planned.”
With a sound, that wasn’t quite a growl
He tossed her letter into the quaking flames
He was getting tired of her senseless games
He knew, without a doubt, what he had to do:
Follow the sodden oaf of a fool into the night
Protect her from a distance; make sure she was alright
Any other man, would have shoved her away
Taken the chance, when she decided not to stay
And as he watched that letter burn
He felt the cold hand of fear around his heart,
A place, she had declared, was void from the start
She was a flight-risk, stubborn and full of strife
But he wouldn’t find another lass
That brought such a light to his life.
Isabella
She had made a mistake, that was clear
The night held unfathomable fears
She tried to stay clear from the road
To avoid thieves, and heartless rogues
But she hadn’t thought this plan through
Shadows danced around her, caging her in
Rumbling noises got under her skin
Thoughts of her family, kept her strong
Her parents, undoubtedly, would invite her inside
Listen patiently to what she had to leave behind
They would be disappointed, but they would understand
At least, that was her hopeful plan
They would know what she should say and do
Heaven forbid she lost them too
Yet still her thoughts kept going back to him
His dark intense eyes, and reluctant grin
And as the night appeared to go on and on,
The dark skies transitioned to a gloomy dawn
Maybe it was exhaustion, a lack of sleep
That she didn’t hear the methodical stepping of feet
A rough hand grabbed her around the waist
Another shoved a foul-smelling cloth in her face
Her vision dimmed, and in her mind she screamed
But around her, the light faded to that of a dream.
Calum
Muttering every curse,
He rode off on his fastest horse
The past few weeks, she had talked nonstop of home
It drove him mad at first, but then
He realized she must have never felt at home with him
As the night drew on, images taunted his mind
Of all the times he ignored the signs
She had been tired, sleeping in late in the day
Weakly waving his concerns away
He cursed again as he drew his horse in
Her prints were faint, barely there
The indent meant she was on running on foot
She was staying off the main roads to avoid being seen
But thieves and muggers did the exact same thing
He looked up at the moon, as he silently prayed
That he wouldn’t be too late
And as the miles appeared to go on and on,
His heart seemed to miss a beat
For there she was, in the distance, walking methodically
The moon light seemed to dance in her hair
She was swaying in exhaustion, but she didn’t seem to sense he was there
Then out of nowhere, he felt a sickening blow
He swung around to confront the attack
But was greeted with a cold scythe in black
Where it all started.
I grew up in a library, but that wasn’t where my love for books started. My Grandma was a librarian’s assistant, and I was put to work ever since I was old enough to help her stamp, organize, and catalog the books. I hated it. The books were heavy, dusty, and I could never fathom the appeal of the pages filled with endless text.
Of course, everything changed when I was in fourth grade. My Grandma would take us to the dollar store and let us pick out one item. For us, it was like putting a child in a candy store with endless possibilities. We would seriously contemplate between a candy or a toy (often trying to beg and barter for both). However, this time I found myself in the book aisle. I was looking at the coloring books, when another title caught my eye – Inseparable by Ann Major. It was a 400-page romance novel, that promised drama and intrigue. I remember my Grandma had raised her eyebrows at the novel. She turned it over in her hands to see if it was appropriate for someone my age. It wasn’t, but the innocent entangled ribbons on the cover had passed her initial inspection and she placed it in the basket.
I was fascinated – engrossed. The novel had taken me to an adult realm that I hadn’t even known existed. Love, jealousy, passion, rage playing out in a storyline that seemed to take me from this physical realm. One where the words faded away, and I became the quiet bystander watching the characters and locations come to life. I stayed up all night reading that book. And when I flipped the last page and I was forced to close the book and come back to reality, I realized that there was so much I didn’t know. Worlds that were begging to be explored, adventures that were just waiting to be taken.
For a moment, I wasn’t the shy and awkward wallflower, but a lady dancing at a queen’s ball or an Earl intent on revenging past wrongs. It was a fever that seemed to devour my soul. I laughed, cried, and fell in love with the characters. I would, if momentarily, forget where I was. Staying up until 3 AM to read a book or forcing my eyes to stay open to read just one more chapter. I would read in the bus on the way to school. I would read during my lunch time. I would sneakily try to read during class. Those words consumed me, and I couldn’t place a book down.
The librarian and I were on first-named basis. I would put down one book and immediately pick up another, each book promising a different tale than the last. Finally, the world was more than the frantic life I had lived with my abusive step father and ignorant mother. Finally, I could go away. To a life that was full of something more.
Reading changed the course of my life; I don’t know who I would be if I had never picked up that book. Maybe, with different circumstances I wouldn’t have attempted a reality escape at all. I fell in love with books, so deeply that it was all I knew. When it came time for school and picking a course in life, all I really knew was I loved to read – and write. Therefore, an English major was born. Setting my life in a way that would evolve around the written word and an eventual induction into the legal field.
The things that make you in this life are the things you are passionate about. The things you can get lost in for hours and realize that time has slipped by. Pursue those things with earnest, dear reader. If you feel a passion, a calling for something – take it in your hands and run with it. Because that is why you are here. The truth is, life is merely a series of moments strung together. Each moment and each decision impacts the next. Be the person you want to see and talk to, share your passion, and proudly tell the world your story.
“People always talk about heartbreaks and I always listened but never put myself in their shoes. I never thought it was going to happen to me. We were going strong. Even the strongest wind in the middle of the Atlantic couldn’t knock us down. But secrets can always be kept and you don’t always find out right away. The way it was unveiled was slow and cautious. I think you didn’t want to make me go through a stupid heartbreak. You were telling me in the smallest ways for a whole month. Five kisses a day turned into one until they started tasting like the fruit you always hated on. I mean maybe it was someone else’s favorite and you just couldn’t help it. Your words started to kill every butterfly you gave me. The flowers that you replaced every week started to wither away and pieces of it started to fall to the floor. People always talk about heartbreaks but the truth is I went through an earthquake. I was unprepared because I thought we were the strongest, but then one day everything hit me and the life we had together was divided in half.”
— — Alexa Evangelista, random #2
"And I lost long hours of sleep..." she sadly breathes, then said, "...for someone who never even thought of me."
I could say, this breaks me.//ma.c.a
“i wasn’t looking for anything before i met you. but then you came like autumn, and i fell like leaves do.”
- asta
“And if you’re going to love me, you need to know that I am a complete mess. I cry whenever someone raises their voice and I always think that I’m never good enough because in the past that’s been the case. I cry whenever I start to even remotely think about my future because I don’t know who I am without this sadness and I don’t think I’m ever going to get better. I love animals way too much so I’m always bringing strays home. I get attached way too easily and I don’t know how to keep a conversation going. There’s days when everything is too much and I won’t speak to a single soul so please don’t take offense when I don’t return your calls. I come with a lot of baggage so you should know that I am no ray of sunshine and I am not made of fairy dust and everything pink and sunny. I am made of heartache, tears and sadness. If you’re going to love me, you should know that I open up way to easily and it leaves me with nothing for myself and that hurts. I let people take pieces of me whenever they decide to leave so I’m hoping that you won’t do that. As much of a realist that I am, I love romance. I don’t believe in a prince saving me, but I do believe in unicorns and ghosts. I always say my favorite color is blue, but if you ask me why I don’t have a happy meaning for it. I haven’t been to my father’s grave since the day we put him in the ground and that eats away at me. Holidays are always hard even though I always have a smile on my face. If you ask me what’s wrong more than likely I’ll say that nothing is wrong and that I am in fact fine. This is far from the truth. I am never fine, but there are days when I’m okay and if you can’t understand that then you should not be telling me you love me. I’m scared of love and what it does to people so if at times I push you away I am sorry. So I guess what I’m trying to say if that I am no picnic in the park and I hope that you can still say you love me. I am not for everyone, but I hope I am for you.”
— Deeply Feeling Series // via promisesofamazing
“I wish it hurt you like it hurt me but it doesn’t and that hurts even more.”
— Deeply Feeling Series
The History of Juneteenth
Instagram: @Blackbirdnetwork
“Take wrong turns. Talk to strangers. Open unmarked doors. And if you see a group of people in a field, go find out what they are doing. Do things without always knowing how they’ll turn out. You’re curious and smart and bored, and all you see is the choice between working hard and slacking off. There are so many adventures that you miss because you’re waiting to think of a plan. To find them, look for tiny interesting choices. And remember that you are always making up the future as you go.”
—
Randall Munroe
just a reminder:
a black girl character growing her hair out long breaks more stereotypes than a black girl character having short hair
a black girl character getting to be soft and fragile breaks more stereotypes than a black girl character being strong all the time
a black girl character being protected and comforted by others breaks more stereotypes than a black girl character having no one to look out for her but herself
a black girl character being considered pretty or cute by other characters breaks more stereotypes than a black girl character being considered unattractive
not everything that is empowering for white girls is empowering for black girls
the sexism we face overlaps, but it is not the same
not everything that is empowering for white girls is empowering for black girls
the sexism we face overlaps, but it is not the same