Xuebing Du
Game Changer & Make Some Noise
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Noah Kahan
roma★
ojovivo
Mike Driver
The Stonewall Inn
No title available
Cosmic Funnies
if i look back, i am lost
Claire Keane
Sade Olutola
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
oozey mess
Show & Tell
Jules of Nature
Cookie Run:Kingdom Official!
PR's Tumblrdome
tannertan36
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@storybook-darning
𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞-𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜, 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢-𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠. 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐬/𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝. 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝. 𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘴. 𝘈𝘴𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘨 𝘪𝘧 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘥. 𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘨 𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴.
ʜᴀɴᴅ-ꜱᴇᴡɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ ʙʏ [ᴊᴀɴᴇʏ] — ( ᴀɴʏ ▹ 22 ▹ ᴇꜱᴛ )
𝗟𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘀 ✩ — 𝚁𝚄𝙻𝙴𝚂 ＡＢＯＵＴ 𝗮𝘀𝗸𝗯𝗼𝘅
Muse Intros List ⍟ — Dolly Doe • Ivy Bloom • Rosie Beagle Wally Darling • Barnaby Beagle
Divider Credits: x x x x
The sun had been high in the sky for what felt like forever, and while some would say 'it was the perfect summer day', Barnaby was HOT. When the other would pass his dog house, they would find him tummy down in a small kiddy pool. Was there water in it? Who knows, for the Beagle took up the entire space inside it. Slumped with all four paws hanging out the sides.
"Hey, Kiddo. Mind passing me that rubber duck?" He'd chuckle, gesturing towards a few pool toys that hadn't made it into the water with him. /@storybook-darning
Summer, a mix of school freedom and terrible, awful, no-good heat. Couldn't the heat pick some other time to bake her alive? Some time other than summer break, anyway. Leaning over the side of the thick plastic pool, two of her big paws sprawled in a little pocket of water that wasn't also consumed by another dog.
With his question, Rosie looked over to the cluster of haphazardly dumped pool toys in the grass. Luckily for her, the bright yellow of the rubber ducky was easy to pick out from the array of toys in the unruly grass. She bobbed her head up from the pools edge, darting off with all the energy you'd expect of a puppy.
The less time spent out of the water, the better!
She didn't want the sun to even have a chance to warm up all of the wet fur that was keeping her nice and cool. Holding the duck Rosie ducked back into the shaded cover in the kiddie pool. Was there a pun in there somewhere? Rosie contemplated asking the question aloud, before the colorful allure of the rubber ducky stole her attention. A mischievous smile bubbling with giggles spread across her face, leaning in close to Barnaby, balancing it juuust right ontop of her dad's hat.
"Duck! " she squealed. "Get it?"
We're excited to get it done to jump back into writing again! We just get side-tracked with things like our Polish learning. We still have so many Polish learning books to go through that we got ourselves for Christmas!
That being said, does anyone have book reccomendations? I'd love to know what kind of books that you all have enjoyed! I'd like to be better at reading more books.
She’s as still as a cold winters night. A fond look falling into that single hue as she listened to Dolly speak. Her work was gentle, and appreciated as such with every stitch. Ragatha wouldn’t deny that she felt the same way. Fixing something instead of simply throwing it away gave it much more meaning. The love and attention given to the things you held dear made them that much more special.
“That was a beautiful way to put it, Dolly.” Her voice soft to mimic the others. “And thank you. I’ll be much more careful next time, promise. Perhaps you could even teach me? And in return I can.. oh! Show you have to make my special Holiday cookies.”
A small laugh tittered from her lips as they curved into a wide smile. "Oh, I could never ask of you something I couldn't do myself. I can be clumsy. It can't be helped." Pulling the thread, the stitching seemed to dissapear below the fabric as she tied a last knot. Leaving only a seam line across the tear, the mending was complete.
She couldn't deny she was a bit surprised by the request to teach her own skill. But she was never one to pass up an oppurtunity to share knowledge. "I can't promise you I'm the best teacher..." She hesitated as she thought. To Dolly, sewing was a rythm for her hands. How one explains a rythm stumped her a bit.
"But I can certainly try my best. Do you have something you'd like to make?"
A hand covers the small giggle that the Angel lets out as the other pulls their selves from the tree. A sight to behold for sure. And as Dolly agreed to help her out, Ragatha felt her wings flutter happily behind her. Even taking her up a few inches from the ground. "Oh how kind of you. I appreciate any help I can get today." Her single hue closed with an angelic smile on her pretty face.
-- However, the pin cushion definitely caught her attention. A look of bewilderment crossing her rosy features. "Oh my! Do you know how to sew?" The question was wrapped in excitement, even though she had tried to keep herself calm and collected. "I uh.. I caught myself on a tree branch a few days ago. I thought I could pull myself free but.. As you can see, the tree had other plans."
Dolly gave a sympathetic smile and a nod toward the angel. She listened with a warm hum, as she held a needle between her lips. A spool of blue thread was produced from within her pockets. Unraveling a few inches of thread and breaking the end with teeth, no time was wasted as the needle was threaded and tied off.
Dolly took a soft breath, as if to steady herself. "Tears show beauty and life." she started softly, as she trotted close toward the gentle angel. "They hold memories, experiences.." She spoke gently, as if talking to herself as she carefully begun her stitches. "To be changed through them.. There's a beauty in that."
She gave a small laugh, smiling up at the taller doll. "So... I think there's a beauty in mending." A soft silence began to creep in before she interjected herself "A-At least, to me." Dolly's voice grew softer as she talked, averting her eyes to look back down towards her work.
What tragic death would you suffer?
the sacrifice
you die saving the thing you love. maybe it is family, friends, perhaps even a cause. they will carry your face with them for the rest of their lives, and every milestone they pass will make them think of you. it does not matter because you won't be there to experience it with them. years down the line, they will meet people who do not even know the weight of your name upon their skin. this is what your selflessness gets you in the end.
Tagged by: stolen from @/fvnnythiings
Tagging: steal it from me!
"You must be Dolly." Her voice sang as she noticed @storybook-darning watching her re-organize the tree. Jax had certainly been messing with it.. For the icicles he left behind was a sure give away. --
"I don't think we've been properly introduced. -- Silly me. I'm Ragatha." Her hands smooth out the ice blue dress, very careful to avoid the small rip where stuffing had started poking out. "I hate to ask, but could you possibly help me out? Some of these ornaments need to be changed. We want the tree to be perfect for the holidays."
With an soft jingle from within the tree, the lamb's head escaped from the prickly embrace of pine needles. Dolly had noticed the beautiful tree and had come closer to admire it. Though, a glint of yellow within the tree had piqued her curiosity. She had assumed it to be silly string, a garland, or even a ribbon. However, on her closer inspection, it seemed to be.. Spray cheese?
To add to her situation, a new friendly face had come to greet her, and she was woefully underprepared for a good first impression. Her cheeks flushed in embarassment as she carefully disloged her arms from within the tree's branches to face the kind woman. Thankfully for her, Ragatha had seemed to pick up word on her name without the fumblings of needing to speak. A quiet relief to her.
"Oh, yes! Yes, of course." Her quiet voice squeaked with a bit of urgency. She straightened her posture as if to signify it's importance. Her eyes shifted around as she searched for the decorations to arrange. Though, the soft white rip in Ragatha's dress caught her eye. A hand reached into her apron pocket and produced a well-used tomato pin cushion.
She raised a brow to Ragatha while looking toward her with her tools in hand in silent questioning towards her.
just in case you didn’t know this
your ‘canon’ character is an oc. they’re an oc from the original creator of the series.
there’s nothing wrong w/ having a preference but if you think that ‘canon characters’ are better, guess what – there rly isn’t such a thing as canon character.
To all my writer friends who are on the struggle bus/suffering from writer's block/just dealing with life stuff right now!
i'll be the sweetest lamb for you; most gentlest as you eat me away. flesh and bones. marrow and soul. your canine teethe sinking deeply into my flesh—severing me whole as your mouth drips with my blood. all because i want you to love me. to fill your stomach with me. to taste me and eat every last bit of me.
i'm literally the priest's favorite sacrificial lamb because i am so docile and sweet and i hold very still when they put the rope around my neck and i trot along so happily while they lead me to the altar and they do not even have to tie me down because i lie so very still and only bleat once or twice in my lovely lamb voice and when the knife comes down it cuts through me like butter and i offer no resistance and i bleed so prettily all over my new white wool and my guts all unspool like the most beautiful shining yarn and my eyes are animal and dumb and hold no accusation and every time i die i come right back as another little lamb because the priest loves me so so much and he always chooses me for the sacrifice every time and he always places one hand on my small and twitching nose to calm me while he lifts the knife and he doesn't do it for the other lambs only me because i'm his favorite
Maybe it's just the memories of childhood, but accapella music is so ethereal to me. Haunting, but beautiful. I'm not christian, but growing up singing hymns and being in choir gives me fond feelings in a way i can't describe. Nostalgia, in a way, but more than that.
I highly reccomend Midnight Mass to those that can stomach religious themes. It critisizes religion while agknowledging the good and bad that can come from it. The soundtrack and cinemetography with it? The storytelling alone? My god. It's beautiful. I need to go re-watch it again.
I was given a lot of Christian media as a child. I had 3 bibles alone meant for me with my name etched into each. I was given animated cartoons of bible stories that I would now say were not entirely age-appropriate.
I was born and given a heavy weight of precious christian guilt at such a young age. Determined to be the perfect sacrificial lamb to make everything right. To be the perfect daughter, the perfect neighbor, the most perfect and sweet little girl. After all, that's what I was taught. It's all I knew. I could never even fathom the slightest deviation.
So much of that time, those feelings, those complicated thoughts that weaved itself into Dolly's stuffing. The bittersweet feelings to the psalms I was so carefully cherry-picked and fed made up the stitching to her body. But still, I fear being sacreligious, and she weeps for a forgiveness she never even needed.
Seemingly overnight, it seemed the world turned white. Dolly had noticed the days turning colder and darker. Had she missed a grave sign to God's wrath?
The thought of setting some kind of plauge on the gentle neighborhood chilled her. The icy wind started to sting her cheeks as if to add insult to injury. With an uneasy hum, she closed the door without stepping past.
How would she ever remedy this? How would her neighbors forgive her for such a cold blinding blemish on their town?
Dolly frowned, a deep furrowed crease knotting between her eyebrows. She wasn't sure what it was that had invaded their town, and she knew even less what to do about it. She certainly couldn't hide it all. There was simply too much of it. The town had so far been kind and gracious to her. Maybe you would know what to do?
"Something's .... Wrong?"
Was all she managed to bleat out as she wrung her hands. Her eyes darted back and forth from the door.
Seemingly overnight, it seemed the world turned white. Dolly had noticed the days turning colder and darker. Had she missed a grave sign to God's wrath?
The thought of setting some kind of plauge on the gentle neighborhood chilled her. The icy wind started to sting her cheeks as if to add insult to injury. With an uneasy hum, she closed the door without stepping past.
How would she ever remedy this? How would her neighbors forgive her for such a cold blinding blemish on their town?
Dolly frowned, a deep furrowed crease knotting between her eyebrows. She wasn't sure what it was that had invaded their town, and she knew even less what to do about it. She certainly couldn't hide it all. There was simply too much of it. The town had so far been kind and gracious to her. Maybe you would know what to do?
"Something's .... Wrong?"
Was all she managed to bleat out as she wrung her hands. Her eyes darted back and forth from the door.
