Honestly? Shoutout to those of you who are completely fucking lost in life. Those who don’t know what they want to do with life. Those who are stuck in a certain part of life and can’t get out. Those who are reaching for dreams they feel are impossible to reach. Those who feel like they’re accomplishments are being overlooked. Those who feel like their enough just isn’t enough. It is. You can make it. You will make it. There is an opening at the end of the tunnel.
in my head the star wars equivalent of tswift is some human woman named tay’lor spiff or something and her stans are losing their minds over theories that she’s secretly a jedi singing about the horrors of war, even though she’s from a neutral system that hasn’t seen so much as a moral panic in 50 years
Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you like).
TYSM for the tag @forloveofcodywan 💕
My most recent line isn't really a line teeeechnically, but more of a mini-scene that is meant to bridge the gaps between two bigger scenes of actual plot, and i love it. (From my Sledgefu Dirty Dancing WIP)
The tweeting of the birds in the trees behind the cabin stirred Eugene into consciousness, and he hung in a drowzy haze as his senses gradually attuned to his surroundings. The rising sun cast beams of warm light through the window’s panes onto the bed, illuminating the boy in his arms. It was utterly peaceful; the smell of the pine and earth clinging to the humid air which was just chilly enough to savor the warmth of each other's bodies under the quilt.
“I could get used to this,” Eugene whispered, his throat tight and the ache in his heart intensifying.
Merriell hummed sleepily in agreement, nuzzling closer against him.