#scorpioraces

[cormybred]

favorite scorpio fics

go read my favorite scorpio races fanfic is Splintered Heart on ao3 its by Corzonova who also has other good fics from other fandoms

heres the link :

https://archiveofourown.org/works/40698159/chapters/101974941

[mcreynne]

It is the first day of November and so, today, someone will die. #ocscorpio #maggiestiefvater #scorpioraces https://www.instagram.com/p/CVwe5GstIoj_LCVOD3u4YMM9YYTVaRS2XuFhkg0/?utm_medium=tumblr

[themoonphoenix]

“It is the first day of November and so, today, someone will die.”⠀ ⠀ 🍁 ¡Hola, Hola! ¿Qué tal anoche? Espero que hayan tenido un buen Halloween. ¿Hay un libro que lean anualmente? Cada año trato de leer las Carreras de Escorpio en estas fechas, porque el libro comienza en este día. ¿Hay alguien más que hace algo asi? Espero que tengan un buen inicio de mes, ya casi se acaba el año.⠀ ⠀ 🍁 Hello! How was yesterday? I hope you enjoy you Halloween night. Obligatory post on november first. Scorpio races is a book I try to re read this day every year. Only because the story start this day. There is a book you reread anually? Have a nice start of the month.⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ #maggiestiefvater #novemberreads #autumnreading #cozyreads #scorpioraces #favoritebooks #fantasybooks #yafantasy #bookflatlays #imreading #favoritestories #youngadultfantasy https://www.instagram.com/p/CHDY7AhAwhn/?igshid=1utbr2yp5b61s

[heart-likeglass]

So yesterday I was on the phone with a friend and I was telling her about the book I’m reading and how fascinating it is. (The Scorpio Races by Maggie Stiefvater if ya’ll are interested). Anyway, the second I told her that every year there is a horse race, she immediately said “oh, sounds like the hunger games.” And something inside me snapped. IT IS NOT EVEN CLOSE TO BEING LIKE THE HUNGER GAMES! I didn’t say that to her, but I thought it like that in my head. I just want to say, that I’m tired of people comparing other books to the generally popular ones, especially when they only read the generally popular ones. Every book has its own story, its own characters, it’s own plot, and its own language. Please please please don’t compare it to another book when you haven’t even read the first page yet. SORRY for the rant. I’m done. I just really care about my books. *shrugs and drops mic*

[trekkiemage]

Two hours left on my layover... tea and book time #travel #somuchtravel #scorpioraces

[roseravenkey]

CREATIVE CHALLENGE #6: FANMADE BOOK TRAILER

I do not claim to own the videos here, or the song. No copyright infringement intended!

The song is “Black” by Kari Kimmel and videos are assorted things in my files I’ve acquired over time.

@thescorpioracesfestival

[wanderthewords]

Fall means cooler weather and cuddling up under my favorite fleece blanket. #sweaterweather is the best weather! . Scorpio Races is one of my favorite fall reads. This year I need to make some November cakes and carve out a little time to read it again. I lit my Kowalski's Bakery candle from @bubbleandgeek again today because it smells like I think November cakes would taste. . Anyone else ready for Maggie's next book All the Crooked Saints? I may be a tad more excited for the upcoming Ronan books, but I love Maggie's worldbuilding, so I'll be reading this one, too. . #lilfallvibes #scorpioraces #maggiestiefvater #autumn #fox #yalit #yafantasy #bookstagram

[thisby-island]

Lark

As Thisby came into focus there were two things that kept passing through my mind. First, I wanted this all to work out because I’d done a very stupid thing in taking all of my cash out and dashing across the USA to come here. Second, I kept getting this nagging feeling that this wouldn’t work out and I’d be stuck. Stuck where I don’t know, but stuck in a way that I wouldn’t be able to get home or find people to take me in. These things kept passing in my mind. It’s easy to think of the worst possible scenarios and scare yourself before taking the leap. I’d taken the leap, and was now flopping around to figure out how to pick myself up. I looked out along the side of the boat. I couldn’t see the mainland in clear focus anymore. It was a blur of greens behind us. I shielded my eyes from the bright light and sniffed the salty air. The waves crashed around us, some of them sending white foam into the air. The ship rocked back and forth, forth and back. A few others sat on the boat with me. It was built to take tourists around so the majority of the boat was made of white seats that lined the inside of the boat. A hard top covered us from the worst of the sun’s rays. But there were five of us including the boat owner, and out of the five I think only two of us were tourists. The rest seemed Thisby made, with tanned skinned from being outside more than inside. They also carried crab cages. I leaned back in my seat, tugging at my shirt to stay on my shoulders. Mom always told me to flaunt my body, to let my curves show through my clothes, but I’d rather wear loose baggy clothing. It’s like wearing a constant blanket. My heart ached at the thought of Mom. She never liked Thisby and when I said I was going there she cried for me not to go because it’s a place she doesn’t like to visit. But when I was small she’d told me that you find your passion when you’re small and if you’re lucky you realize it. And if you’re even more lucky you follow it. It took me my whole life to realize what my passion was. And I’m not allowing it to go anywhere now. Even if I kept trying to shut off my brain and tell my heart to take a bigger roll other than pump blood. “Lark!” the boat owner yelled over the howling waves. I got up, keeping a hold on the siderails so I didn’t fall to my knees. I’d known Mrs. Mosley since I was small. She’d  been old then, and just stopped aging. She’d spent so much time on the water that I wondered if she’d been born out here. Mrs. Mosley was an immense woman, that could hold her own with manning her boat. Even if there were more wrinkles than before around her green eyes and small mouth. “Yes?” I said. She kept a hand on the wheel but pointed out in front of me. “Look.” Squinting, it took me a few moments to get what she was looking at.  We were in the sea with waves and trillions of tons of water. The only thing I saw was a bird coasting in our direction. “It’s a—“ I began. A snaky horse head appeared out of the water, and the jaws clamped shut on the bird. It squawked and then both horse and bird disappeared. It’s easy to forget what lurks beneath the water. “Wow—I didn’t realize they’d be out now.” Mrs. Mosely looked at me and smiled. “They’re always here darling. They just don’t always come out of the water. I know you are young and alone, so don’t trust them.” “How’d you know?” “How many tourists come with enough clothes to last a few months and a saddle? You are here for them horses, but don’t forget what they are. They aren’t your friends. They’ll tear you to shreds and spit out your bones.” Nodding I scared one more glance outside where the horse was and went back to my seat. Was I over my head? Maybe. Would I heed her warning? Probably not. I walked back to my seat, accidently making eye contact with one of the guys. He had to be around my age and a scowl appeared across his face. Shrugging, I sat down. I patted my bushy black hair and crossed my arms. They weren’t tanned from too much sun. They were always a dark brown and I loved it. I never paled during the winter. I always started and ended the summer with my own natural born melanin. The rest of the trip went uneventful. Mrs. Mosely tied up the boat, allowing us to get off without a hiccup. I dragged my suitcase behind me and balanced my saddle in my arm. It was my most prized possession. The flaps were worn from me riding in it so much, and sure, there was a small tear along the tree, but it fit me well.