kaylee-hates-kaleleaves

[kaylee-hates-kaleleaves]

Leila Chatti, from "Postcard from Gone"

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[kaylee-hates-kaleleaves]

FOUND family??? you think i just found them like this??? babes this is FORGED family. Me & the bros were scrap metal in a junkyard (very valuable, very sharp, very dangerous, uncared for) and we GOT IN THE FUCKING FIRE TOGETHER. WE did this. we said I AM NOT LEAVING YOU and melted into each other for better or for worse (it’s for better) and we are A FUNCTIONAL UNIT now. DO NOT SEPARATE. BATTERIES FUCKING INCLUDED. FOUND family my ass, we built this non-nuclear family unit from the ground up, don’t devalue this!!! it was is and will be a labour of love!!!

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i saw the rain before i felt it

it seems like such a simple thing to say

‘i saw the rain before i felt it’

but what i mean to say is

i saw the dark clouds,

the hail,

the lightening

they warned me that danger was ahead

and yet, i still willingly walked into the storm

[kaylee-hates-kaleleaves]

Kelpie

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not gonna say it again

[kaylee-hates-kaleleaves]

Miss Marianne Oliver, nineteen years old and enjoying her first summer away from home, was wholly unprepared for her first glimpse of the sea. The path that led them from the cottage to the beach was winding, climbing for a way before sloping down, and upon reaching its highest point, Marianne found herself suddenly in view of a glittering horizon and an expanse of water the likes of which she could not compare with anything she had ever beheld. She halted, mesmerised, unable to walk on.

A breeze carrying a fresh, unfamiliar scent touched her cheeks and she felt a peculiar, directionless joy she had never felt before. Who had ever imagined such a view!

“Oh Peter,” Marianne exclaimed. “Isn’t it beautiful. I must bring my watercolours next time.”

But her brother had no patience for admiring anything from afar and urged her to walk on, running ahead without waiting for an answer. “It will be better down at the water, I am sure!”

Marianne complied and continued down the path. She approached the beach with the happy solemnity that many others might bestow on a chapel, and Marianne had not walked there five minutes before declaring that there was no place she admired more. Her desire to visit Bath was all forgot, Thirrup, with its glittering waves and distant cliffs could do no wrong.

The weather, which had started fair, grew only fairer still, determined to add its lustre to the scene. Brother and sister both delighted in the sea breeze and the warming air; and while Peter spoiled his stockings by running at the advancing tides, Marianne abandoned her pelisse on a conveniently large piece of rock and let the wind muss the ribbons on her bonnet.

It was a long time before she was sensible of anything but the sky and the waves, but after a while she spied two figures walking quite some distance away. Two gentlemen, walking very close to the shoreline, whose twin, dark shapes seemed peculiarly enigmatic in the bright weather. One of the gentlemen was dressed in what she believed to be the blue coat of a naval officer, the other wore black, but both, she saw in surprise as they slowly moved in their general direction, were wearing a heavy fur cape about their shoulders. It was their capes, she realised, which had given their silhouettes their peculiarity. The two gentlemen walked as one, in perfect time with one another, seemingly not in talk but in perfect, silent agreement.

She watched them progress across the beach until one of them suddenly lifted his head and seemed to look directly at her. He was too far to discern the features of his face, but they were in full view of one another and Marianne turned hastily away, and, feeling she must say something after looking at them for so considerable a time, remarked:

“Look there! Did you ever see such a thing? Gentlemen wearing furs in summer!”

Perhaps it was a foreign custom? It was certainly a very strange one to adhere to in such fine weather, but how striking it looked.

“When I go to university,” said Peter, who had spoken of very little else since James had gone to Cambridge, “I shall wear just such boots!”

“When you go to university, you would do well to be less concerned with your boots and more with your books,” teased Marianne.

Peter paid her no mind whatsoever and having tired of running, not daring to go any nearer to the water, and knowing his sister would never be persuaded to walk into town unattended, declared that he wanted to back to the cottage. Marianne agreed with great reluctance and she hung back a little, walking slowly while her brother bounded ahead.

She had not yet reached the path, when a voice called out behind her and she turned to see, to her great confusion, the gentleman who had looked at her when walking the shoreline. He was a young man, looking rather breathless at that time, but with a pleasant, round face and the darkest eyes that Marianne had ever seen. He was holding out to her, draped over the sleeve of his black coat, her forgotten pelisse.

“Your coat, ma’am.” His voice was as pleasant as his face, and as breathless as his appearance.

“Thank you, sir!” she blushed, and as she took it back from him she noted that they were almost of a height. The fur coat, she saw, was not as bulky as she had thought; it was an almost sleek, grey-brown fur drawn close around broad shoulders.

The gentleman bowed, somewhat hastily, and quickly turned back to his companion in the Navy blue, who was standing back and looking very much amused.

“Come along, Marianne!” Peter called out from atop a great stone and Marianne, her cheeks red and her mind alive with curiosity, followed.

[Read the rest of this Regency Selkie Romance on AO3~]

[kaylee-hates-kaleleaves]

I know unicorns in modern media are kind of relegated to cutsie, MLP, rainbow plastic toys, or shitting rainbows, 'lets go to candy mountain' but man. I WISH more fantasy media would put them in unironically. There is so much symbolic and narrative potential in a creature that is, depending on your mythology:

A guardian of wild spaces, the embodiment of nature untouched by mankind's industry and greed. Fewer and farther between.

The ideal of "Purity" made manifest, elusive and powerful and hunted for fruitlessly by many a person. To kill. To actually kill. Living symbol of the oh-so-coveted Purity, not treated as a sacred thing to protect, or even predated for food to survive off, but a trophy for knights and lords to boast about.

So absolutely fierce and deadly that no one smart dared to fight it fairly. A gentle maiden had to betray it into resting in her lap so that a man could spear it while its guard was down.

Able to heal any wound no matter how severe - it promised miracles, if you could find one.

A creature who's magic vanished if it was captured or killed. In trying to take control of it, you destroyed it. Some things can only be given by free will, and no amount of personal desire or brute force can change that.

[kaylee-hates-kaleleaves]

Beware!

[kaylee-hates-kaleleaves]

Honestly? My main piece of advice for writing well-rounded characters is to make them a little bit lame. No real living person is 100% cool and suave 100% of the time. Everyone's a little awkward sometimes, or gets too excited about something goofy, or has a silly fear, or laughs about stupid things. Being a bit of a loser is an incurable part of the human condition. Utilize that in your writing.

[kaylee-hates-kaleleaves]

REVERSE TROPE WRITING PROMPTS

Too many beds

Accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss

Really nice guy who hates only you

Academic rivals except it’s two teachers who compete to have the best class

Divorce of convenience

Too much communication

True hate’s kiss (only kissing your enemy can break a curse)

Dating your enemy’s sibling

Lovers to enemies

Hate at first sight

Love triangle where the two love interests get together instead

Fake amnesia

Soulmates who are fated to kill each other

Strangers to enemies

Instead of fake dating, everyone is convinced that you aren’t actually dating

Too hot to cuddle

Love interest CEO is a himbo/bimbo who runs their company into the ground

Nursing home au

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writers and artists will go "this isn't good enough." my brother in christ, you're creating something new out of nothing and expressing yourself creatively. your productivity and unrealistic standards of perfection do not define you or the worth of your art. you're doing great.

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ON PURPOSE, I'M GOING TO LOVE YOU ON PURPOSE

Jenny Slate // Casey McQuiston, Red, White & Royal Blue // Pleiades, Anne Carson // Taylor Jenkins Reid, The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo // @oriley42 and @earth167 (and a half) on Tumblr // Jodi Picoult from The Book Of Two Ways // The Night Vale, Episode 100, The Toast // Adam Melchor, I Choose You // Kierston White, The Chaos of Stars

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Send me some to give me the will to finish Adam’s profile sknsdlrntl

[kaylee-hates-kaleleaves]

hope is a skill

[kaylee-hates-kaleleaves]

Making a shitty one-page RPG called Oh Shit It’s the Killer. The premise is simple: you’re a high schooler spending the weekend in the woods with your besties. The Killer is there also. He is trying to the Kill you

[kaylee-hates-kaleleaves]

hey here's a website for downloading any video or image from any website.

works w/ youtube, soundcloud, twitch, twitter (gifs and videos), tumblr (video and audio), and most other websites you're probably lookin to download stuff off of.