Me, Squinting At My Writing: What Perspective Are You Even In??? Are You Even In A Perspective??

Werewolf Boyfriend: Max

I woman hope for a new start, a new recovery, moves to Hearthway Hollow to help someone else recover.

Female Reader x Male Monster

I’ve always had to be careful in life. I took ballet to learn to be graceful and thoughtful with my movements. I decided to study for a job that would allow me to avoid any accident or peril. But life is hard to control, and you don’t get to pick and choose when you bump into things, fall over, or get a nosebleed.

I got my first nosebleed when I was still an infant. It sent my parents into such a panic, they still talk about it like it happened not too long ago. Hemophilia was common on my dad’s side, they just never realized what it was. Ever since my grandfather’s time, they called themselves heavy bleeders. I got the worst of it. Any time I got a nick or cut, I bled like I was in a horror movie with an massive special-effects budget. Even worse, my nosebleeds happened regularly. I would get too dry, and bam! I stopped wearing anything other than black to keep from staining my clothes.

I had to give up ballet because my teachers were worried I would start bleeding on the stage. I hated that because I really did love dancing. I graduated high school early, and learned that even if I was the ‘kid with a bloody nose’ during college, that was fine with people. I changed the focus of my studies and became an art restorer. I learned to wear gloves and a mask when I did the work; it would catch the blood, and I would have very little worries. Studying art history seemed like the safest thing in the world for me.

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i like how enigmatic life can always be. are you having a good day? well, tomorrow might be shit. or is it a bad day? maybe tomorrow you'll be the happiest version of yourself. you can't expect anything from life yet it disappoints sometimes. it's is so beautifully strange.

forbidden fruit | chapter 2

here’s chapter two! this is dedicated to @stardustsroses , happy (late) birthday my love!! <3

masterlist | ao3 | part 1

tags: @staticpetrichor @stardustsroses @nalgenewhore​ @illyrianbeauty @mariamuses @nomattertheoceans @vivorsomething @b00kworm @maastrash @lost-in-fictionn @acourtofabsandillyrians @ladywitchling 

***

Cassia.

Her named suited her. Soft. Ethereal.

Awkwardly, Manon extended her hand in an offer to help her up from her cowered position. Cassia’s stare immediately glued to the razor sharp nails curving wickedly from her pale fingers.

“I won’t hurt you,” she repeated again, cursing the touch of shame that sent a pang down to her very core. Since when did she feel bad about her terrifying exterior?

Cassia visibly swallowed, nodding hesitantly before accepting Manon’s hand, her body so light Manon barely had to exert any energy pulling her up.

“Um, I-” she stammered, timidly meeting her gaze. “Thank you for not killing me.”

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Nano project? Nano project!! 

I’m gonna focus on Dressage Dragons this November, so prepare for a relentless onslaught of Hot Rich Barn Bitch rivalry!

Or, y’know, radio silence until December. Depending on my spoons.

Some deets about DD!

YA queer urban fantasy - real world with added dragons

Queer rivals-to-friends-to-maybe-more

Dragon riding is basically equestrianism 

The sport has a reputation for being populated by spoilt, wealthy young white women (obvs a whole range of folks ride horses IRL, but… there’s a reason for the stereotype, and we’re gonna acknowledge elitism where it exists)

Plot revolves around a competition to gain entry to the most prestigious Draconic Dressage Academy in the world

And a developing wlw relationship between a cruel ambitious heiress and a resentful, ruthless stablehand

No soft lovable MCs here guys sorry Except Fareed, he’s perfect

But lots of character growth all around!

Plenty-o diversity

Set in the UK

Vicious rivalries!

Pranks that get WAY OUT OF HAND!!

Dragons!!! Did I mention the dragons??

Basically: Obnoxious young women teach giant fire-breathing carnivores to dance!!!

[Transcript under cut - warning for First Draft Quality (or lack thereof)]

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types of academia pt. 2

art: paint dried at the cuffs of your favorite jacket, ink smudged hands, your notebooks are just sketchbooks for your class doodles with notes crammed in between the drawings, sudden revelations, wanting to create something meaningful with your own two hands, thinking of pygmalion during your sculpting class, reading a book and coming across that one sentence that sparks the inspiration for your next piece, afternoons on a soft green hill sketching, the scent of jasmine on the breeze, the music blaring in your headphones is all you can hear or feel as you work through the night, laying under the starlight

writer: the sound of a pen against parchment, the glow of a computer screen in a dark room, the sound of a clock ticking away the hours, reading with a hunger that will only be satisfied once you can give shape to your own words, empty notebooks, notebooks full of poetry, forgotten ideas that were not written down, your notes app is full of poetry, rainy days full of time spent typing away, living every experience in its rawest fork because you know you can write about it later, “write what you know” so you try to know everything, dreaming through your characters eyes, you and the moon have become good friends after nights spent writing under her light and reading your prose out loud

romantic: sketches of your love in a sketchbook that’s falling apart, singing to the moon at night, reciting sonnets alone in the woods, linen and silk, bathed in golden light, wax seals on love letters, pressed flowers in a journal, wanting to catch the stars and put them in the eyes of the one you love, the sweet scent of roses, ivy crawling up a cobblestone wall, a garden full of statues and plants that flint silver in the moonlight, sweet milk tea, daydreaming in a meadow

sci-fi: stargazing is a personality trait, deteriorating copies of sci-fu novels, coffee stained science magazines, a cork board full of conspiracies, squinting at the sky in search of life, believing there’s something more, tangled headphones, leather-bound dream journal, fog filled nights, psychoanalyzing, sticky note with the names of different theories scribbled on it that you need to research later, scrolling through wikipedia pages under your blanket when you should be sleeping, walkie talkies, a head full of wonder

urban: city lights blazing like stars, briskly walking down streets through the crisp air, drizzle fogging your glasses, hands in the pockets of a frayed coat, the overt dichotomy of light and dark, shadows in alleys and buzzing neon signs, dim bars and lit apartment windows, a small book shop crammed between a starbucks and bank, going to a vintage movie theater at the center of the city, mornings spent at the museum that’s free before noon, nights snuggled up in a blanket in your small, overpriced apartment as you read a book near the window and watch the city breathe

pt. 1

anyway i finally made a uquiz you can click here to find out why fandom tumblr would be anti you

excerpt ; the daughter of denmark ; chapter ?

“I am here because you are dying. I am here because of your fate.”

“But you said — before, you said if I die. Now you say it is my fate to die?”

The fylgja laughed. It sounded like the ringing of church bells on an early morning. It filled Hamlet with simultaneous joy and apprehension. She did not know why the creature laughed. She did not know what God would ask of her. She knew nothing.

“It is everyone’s fate to die, child. Even the gods, one day, will curl themselves into a grave. But there is a difference between how one ends and how they got there.” The fylgja extended her palms to either side of her, like the statues of the dead in the tombs of Roskilde. One hand held its sword, the other was palm up, empty. “Your fate is both at once. You will die as all men do, but will it be now?”

[image: “La Forêt en Hiver au Coucher de Soleil”, Théodore Rousseau]