I Want To Tell You So Many Lies

being a young millenial/old gen z is like yeah i have phone numbers memorised: my own, my mom’s, and my childhood best friend’s landline which probably has not been in service for 10 years

A common experience that all Six of Crows fans share is wondering who the fuck joost Is? Where the fuck are the emo crow kids i signed up for-

The Music of Monsters

Give No Quarter

Read it on AO3!

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV

Content Warning: description of non-consensual kiss

Jude Duarte sat in the plush velvet armchair, twirling a knife into the delicately carved wood arm. She shifted her grip loosely, carving a small J into the arm stump. The scrolls of the chair were elaborately carved, likely by hand, and looked imported. The plush velvet lining the bottom was clean, and the chair behind the desk did nothing to vanish any curiosity about the wealth they must have. A man walked in a moment later, tossing his blonde hair out of his eyes and perching on the arm of the chair behind the desk between them. Maps littered its surface, the swirling oak gall ink depicting great sea serpents twisting off the page.

He cleared his throat, glancing at the knife she had resumed twirling into the armrest. “So. settled, then?” She could smell the coffee on his breath from where he sat, the deep purple pigment under his eyes not so easily hidden.

wylan van eck, midst crooked kingdom

When that disgusting season they call summer finally ends and you start feeling that sweet sweet autumn chill in the air

i don’t like how endings in real life come on so suddenly without making sense, without much warning. one minute you’re in the middle of something and the next it’s all a very long time ago and you’re a different person and none of it is ever coming back

im giving out rotisserie chickens to bloggers tonight

hatin:

bella would’ve been much more useful at the battle in eclipse if she had set up a table w/ those lil paper gatorade cups filled w/ her blood like they do at marathons

the craziest thing about books is you can pick one up and remember exactly where you read and what you felt like when you read it. maybe it was a summer afternoon and you were sad, maybe it was a school night and you were up much too late and already feeling the next morning’s regret, maybe you read the book right after a fight with your mom and you were angry. and a book brings all those emotions and memories back, even if you don’t remember the story the book actually holds. don’t tell me literature isn’t magic 🪄

— Mary Oliver, Upstream

You know the whole reason why I haven’t left Tumblr after all these years is because this site is so introvert friendly.

I don’t have the attention span or much less the strength to keep up with Discord conventions (bc apparently fandom is more in Discord these days?? I am not a talkative person to even take part in a group chat *shivers*) or follow with whatever’s going down on Twitter.

I can come on here, make a post into the void and reblog a bunch of posts then ramble in the tags. It’s great. You don’t have to be a person here, you can be a faceless blog and have a grand old time.

randomly resting ur head on someone’s shoulder is so sweet,, we should do that more often