transcript under the cut and in alt text
i sat by the lake last week and i offered my mother
a slice of my orange, and she said no
and i felt so lonely that i pretended i was two people
so i’d have someone to share with
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make me choose: @princekiem asked cemetery boys or red white & royal blue?
The truth is, Henry and I have been together since the beginning of this year. The truth is, as many of you have read, we have both struggled every day with what this means for our families, our countries, and our futures. The truth is, we have both had to make compromises that cost us sleep at night in order to afford us enough time to share our relationship with the world on our own terms. insp. @parhelias
happy birthday lily [ @percyokonjos ]!
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why do we mom friends always gravitate towards a group of fucked up gays to parent like no why can't we just adopt children whose biggest problem is that their goldfish is blue or some shit
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—about.
hi! i’m anjali, pronouns they/he and my main blog is @hideos so i follow from there! all of my projects can be found on my projects page (which is still a wip). i love to write, whenever i’m doing it (which is close to never gjdkjfkdjfd) and i attempt to do it well.
—wips.
BEND THE STARS.
Known as the Star Priestess, Adhira Bakshi plays puppeteer for the sky. She bends the stars into new constellations, glittering new patterns every night to leave the kingdom of Batra mesmerized. She’s little more than a showmaster, all gold and luster with no real shimmer.
But there are changes coming, changes fast. The capture of the last known ravi- a face from her past- starts a tumult of change and unravels everything Adhira and the kingdom of Batra has ever known.
introduction. page wip. wip tag.
—taglist.
(ask to be added/removed)
@ksiezniqzka @sincerely-milli @adastrals @yaqarah @gnymedes @nyctophobiaandroses @kalliopeian @herondalelucies @xiyais @tatsumekos @agnosthesias
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transcript under the cut
you look like a renaissance painting in the grass,
and you have two freckles on the shell of your right ear.
i want to paint small flowers on our hands,
and maybe brush your hair away from your face, feel its softness.
don’t mind my soft fantasies, i’m living in a playwright's world
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amelia/june they/xe my main blog
about me fandoms page writeblr art blog gif blog goodreads spotify header cred icon cred nav credit
dni: racists, queerphobes, exclusionists, pedos, etc, or if i know you irl
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journey- chapter one
two weeks ago
the harbour echoed with the busy chatter of soldiers boarding the dauntless, a ship that was set to sail further than the horizon, to deliver us to the field where the battle between ancientia and eritque-arcus would commence.
“are you sure you want to do this?“, my girlfriend hestia asked for the millionth time.
“yes,“ i replied, my voice firm. she sighed. “hey“, i grabbed her hand, “i’ll be fine. i promise.“
“i don’t want to lose you. not again.“ hestia whispered. a tear threatened to roll off her cheek.
the distant voices started whispering. “stay!“ the whispers grew louder, more threatening. i clenched my jaw to try to suppress my giggles as the voices tickled my ribs. “are you really going to leave the only person you love alone?“
“you won’t,“ i stammered. “i love you, okay? i’ll see you in a few weeks.“ my voice trembled. i pressed a kiss on hestia’s forehead.
“i love you too,“ she croaked back, the tears now freely streaming over her freckled cheeks.
“um...bye,“ i said as i hesitantly let go of her hand and ran to join the army.
“journey!“ i hear a familiar voice exclaim. i turn on my heels, my eyes scanning the crowd until they land on a redhead wearing a flowery dress. hestia waves at me, pushes the people standing in between us aside and practically leaps into my arms.
“you’re alive!“ she chokes on her tears. i whelve my face into her lavendar-smelling hair.
“hey,“ i whisper softly as i caress her curls. “are you injured?!“ hestia cries. i shake my head. “don’t worry. i’m fine, really.“
“why didn’t you write to me?! i thought you were.. i-i thought you were dead!“
“i’m sorry,“ i say, “but i was literally fighting in a war. i didn’t have time to do stuff as unimportant as writing letters!“
hestia’s glare softens. “but at least we won,“ i sigh. “let’s get out of here,“ hestia says as she looks around the harbour as the other soldiers, some of whom were injured, are reunited with friends and family. we listen as we hear sobs of sorrow and joy and suddenly a feeling of sonder waves over me. “you’re not alone“, the voices whisper.
i groan. they’re back again.
• to be continued! •
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