#grey sky lark

[sarahlizziewrites]

OC description tag

Rules: Share an excerpt from your WIP that describes one of your OCs.

From the wonderful @tabswrites and I was also tagged by @writernopal - thank you! Have a description of my main vampire from Grey-Sky Lark:

The looking-glass does not flatter me. It displays the very worst of my appearance: when I have not fed, it shows me my hollow cheeks and the sunken pits of my eyes; when I am sated, as now, it shows me paper-smooth skin, dark hair that has not been cut in a millennium, and a glinting, grey gaze. By some standards, in this state, becoming. Appealing, even. But I can’t help but see the horror, even in objective beauty - a man’s life was given to achieve this vital-seeming state; a state designed by some cruel god to be uncannily enticing to the very creatures whose lives are forfeit to maintain it.

Yes, I did the 'main character looks in the mirror to describe their appearance' trope. But I think I did ok :P

I'm going to pass the tag on to @talesfromaurea, @thepitflower, @malimaywrite, and anyone else who would like to!

Grey-Sky Lark TAG LIST (ask to be added or removed): @mrbexwrites

[kaseyskat]

Once, this palace was lively. 

Well, as lively as it could be, given its history. Still, despite all grievances, Lark had been happy here, running the halls, causing mayhem and mischief, tearing down trees in the forest and exploring and everything else that came with living in a near-abandoned castle in the middle of nowhere. 

Maybe they should’ve expected that the old owners wouldn’t be so happy about a new family coming and redecorating the place. Lark hadn’t– he was a kid! So really, it was their parents to blame, wasn’t it? 

Their parents aren’t here anymore though. It’s just Lark, curled up in the room he had claimed as his own, and the wolf form of his brother sprawled out next to him, asleep. 

It’s so unfair that I don’t get to be a person when I’m awake much, Lark thinks with a grumble as he stands, stretching his arms and staring out the open window at the star-lit sky. Already, the moon has dipped close to the horizon, meaning that his time on two legs is just about over. Whatever. 

He doesn’t look at Sparrow. When the curse settled in, it felt like that’s all they ever did– frantically looking at one another during the rise and fall of the sun, hoping to catch a glimpse of the other in human form before being overtaken by magic. It’s been a few years though, now, and Lark just sighs as he gingerly runs a hand over the windowsill, enjoying the sensation of dirt and dust lining his fingers. 

Fur brushes against his side, and Lark jumps, glancing down at the wolf that has joined him, head nudging at his legs endearingly. 

“Don’t feel too left out, I wasn’t going anywhere,” he huffs, but he still can’t resist placing one of his hands on top of Sparrow’s head, gingerly stroking through the rough tufts of fur. “We do need more food though. Want me to handle that after sunrise?” 

Sparrow makes a little snorting sound in the back of his throat, and he nudges at Lark’s hand. After years of relying solely on this awful method of communication, Lark interprets that as a yes please, brother, you enjoy the hunt far more than I. 

Never mind that Sparrow’s cursed form is literally a wolf. How he got the cool form and Lark got the stupid bird, Lark will never know. 

The sky lightens to grey, and then a dark red. Lark inhales, and he closes his eyes, his hand falling away from Sparrow’s head. 

When he opens them again, he has shifted forms. Readjusting to Bird Vision is difficult, and he twists his head around, watching as Sparrow curls against the mattress. Despite the sleep he had gotten in wolf form, his eyes are dull, his gaze staring off to nowhere. 

It would seem after years of being cursed like this, to live alone and without each other for company, has finally started to take a toll on his brother. Lark glances longingly out the window for a long moment before carefully flying over to where Sparrow’s curled next to the pillows, tapping his cheek as gently as he can. 

“Sorry Lark,” Sparrow mumbles, and he reaches a hand up to gently comb over Lark’s feathers. “I’m just so tired… you can go out today though, don’t let me stop you.” 

Lark caws at him more insistently. I don’t want to go without you! he tries to convey, hopping down a bit so he can pull at Sparrow’s threadbare shirt, careful not to catch skin. Please don’t give up on me, Sparrow. Please. 

But Sparrow doesn’t move, his eyes fluttering as he dozes off, face screwed up in a grimace. Lark tugs at his shirt for a moment longer before giving up, hopping backwards and looking longingly at the window again. 

Those adventurers are probably still around here, he thinks, flying to the windowsill. Maybe they can help return Sparrow’s spirit. I just have to… bring them here. 

He doesn’t trust anyone. Not since the last person to run into them had been so awful. However, there isn’t much that Lark wouldn’t do for his brother! 

So, with one last glance at Sparrow, Lark takes flight, soaring out the open window and towards the last place he had seen the three imbeciles who were wandering the castle grounds. It’s his only option. 

[libraryofxaviersring]

⋆˙⊹ Non-Arcs Kindle Haul ⊹��⋆

Hauled some new books on my Kindle 🙈 They are a combination of Fantasy, Queer, Romance, and Horror which are one of my fave to read ✨ All of these are already released!

Leather & Lark (The Ruinous Love #2)- Dark contemporary romance, with gory/ horror content. Gave the first book, Butcher & Blackbird a 4 ⭐ A Novel Love Story- A contemporary romance with magic realism in which fmc/ reader finds herself in her favorite romance book series. A Darker Mischief- The Honeys meets The Secret History in a work of dark academia like no other -- a boarding school thriller about a queer teen from Mississippi who finds himself swept into a world of old money, privilege, and the secret society at the heart of it all.

The Actor and His Secret- A queer romance where a movie star and a book publicist had a one-night stand! Only For The Week- African American Romance Novel, sister of the bride (who's also the ex of the groom 🙈) X best man! Crossroads- Cowboy, childhood friends-lovers romance!

A Feather so Black- Fantasy Romance series with Celtic Mythology! Also tagged with a love triangle with a morally grey love interest. The Sky on Fire- From the acclaimed author of the Chorus of Dragons series, this propulsive new standalone fantasy is Dragonriders of Pern for a modern audience. I think I've heard that this is gonna be a full high fantasy novel with no romance. Empire of Silence- Hadrian Marlowe, a man revered as a hero and despised as a murderer, chronicles his tale in the galaxy-spanning debut of the Sun Eater series, merging the best of space opera and epic fantasy.

Scarlet- Historical fiction series set in Revolutionary France with vampires and fantasy elements. The Deer and the Dragon- Urban Fantasy with Mythology with angels and demons. Tender is the Flesh- Dystopia fiction where the government has legalized eating special meat- humans because of the virus of animal meat.

Super excited about these titles. I'm soon to be making my non arcs tbr for next month so hopefully some of these will be listed ❤

Bookstagram Booktwitter Goodreads

[sincerelyandyourstruly]

tales told in morning light

insp.

—

Keqing wakes up one morning to find her beloved sitting at the window sill, nibbling a fruit pastry they made together the night before as she watches the pale, grey dawn.

"Good morning," Keqing says as she plods over to join Ganyu by the window. "What are you…"

Keqing doesn't mean to trail off. There is very little in Teyvat that can distract her attentive gaze, but a new and unexpected detail about her lover certainly falls under that very short list.

"Tail," she says aloud, a little dumbly.

Ganyu tilts her head at Keqing.

"You have a tail."

Ganyu pauses mid-nibble as her eyes widen slightly. "Oh!" she says, and the fluffy tip quivers slightly as she curls it closer to her chest. Her expression turning a bit sheepish, she says, "I guess I just thought that since you found out about my horns so long ago, you'd eventually conclude that I must have other non-human traits tucked under my skin."

(Keqing resists the urge to reach out and touch Ganyu's tail out of pure awe and wonder right then and there.)

Ganyu's brow furrows. "Does… does it bother you?"

Keqing blinks rapidly, her momentary reverie evaporating. "No, not at all!" she assures Ganyu. (She soon flushes, embarrassed that it had never even occurred to her that Ganyu's qilin heritage gave her more than just her horns. Every day, this woman finds a new way to challenge her assumptions.) "I think it's nice."

The faint tension in Ganyu's brow smooths out. Her tail first uncoils at its fleecy tip, then gradually unfurls like the first bold glaze lily bud in the spring: beautiful and soft, pale blue color threaded with bright, opalescent gossamer in the morning light.

Ganyu laughs, the familiar sound warm and comforting like wool, then swishes her tail away. She pats the free space next to her— just wide enough for Keqing to squeeze in next to her.

"It's silly," she admits as Keqing settles next to her. "For a moment, I was worried you were mad."

Keqing reaches out to take Ganyu's hand, taking care to lace their fingers together tightly. "What is there for me to be mad about?" she asks. They've known each other long enough that Ganyu knows her most every quirk and tell, so for her to worry like this— surely, it must be something serious.

Ganyu meets her gaze from the corner of her eye for a moment, then returns her attention to the brightening blues of the sky. "That's why it's silly," she says. "I know you'd never really be mad at me for letting my Adeptal blood show."

Keqing strokes the back of her partner's hand as the latter leans against her. "Well, I was" —kind of still am— "surprised," she says.

"But the Yuheng is as quick to adapt as ever to her situation," Ganyu lightly replies. The corners of her lips curl into a small smile, and she gently knocks her head against Keqing, who laughs.

"I suppose I was worried you'd think I was lying to you," Ganyu elaborates with a sigh.

"That's silly," Keqing immediately interjects.

"So it is!" Ganyu agrees, then quiets again as her amethyst gaze turns faraway. "Old habits, however burdensome they become to maintain, are always rooted in something, though. There still remains so much of me you do not yet know."

Keqing studies the glint of golden sunlight caught in Ganyu's eyelashes as they sit together in the stillness, in the silence before the lark greets the skies and the doves mourn the night.

For a long time, she had hated such moments of quietude. Lying idle was far from her idea of idyllic, but the ancient grace of Ganyu has since caught her by the hand and taught her how to smell the flowers: from the heady weight of glaze lilies filling up the air, to the fragile caress of qingxin dancing thinly on the breeze.

Ganyu's tail wraps itself around Keqing's waist after a moment, sturdy muscles holding Keqing gently like a hug. With the fluff now sitting so invitingly upon her lap, Keqing reaches out a hand to give it a pat.

"It's soft," she marvels, delighted.

Ganyu smiles again and curls her tail more strongly, more affectionately, around Keqing. "It's the love," she says.

They fall into comfortable silence again. Each second slips by with the grace of a pure mountain stream, which cuts through the ages into the steadfast, winding river.

Keqing takes the moment to listen to the ancient echoes which sing beneath their heartbeats. Indeed, there are parts of Ganyu she knows she cannot yet hope to fathom.

((But always, always, always, she is going to try.))

[phoenixflames12]

I have no idea if this is going to go anywhere, but it felt good to write it down. With thanks to @sandfordsmostwanted for being the best writing partner I could wish to develop this AU with.

The church is filled with flowers.

Dev sees them through red rimmed eyes, his fingers shivering in Monica’s as he listens to the minister saying the final blessing. The children are quiet, hushed with the solemnity of the moment, even Peter Rabbit not fussing as he turns wide, dark eyes to try and take the church with its stained glass, its flowers and plaques to the great and the good, in.

 On his other side, Lucy’s hand squeezes his own, her eyes fixed on the coffin.

‘Ma?’

Her soft, grey-blue eyes turn to him, gentle amongst the folds of her wrinkles and he remembers when he had first truly seen her. Remembers the bedroom back at 40 Westgate, swimming in and out of a haze of fever and pain to see gentle eyes watching him beside the bed.

Remembers Frank sitting with him, guiding him through the first few lessons that he’d felt up to taking, sat at the kitchen table, worrying his pencil between his teeth as he poured over his Latin Grammar.

The church is filled with flowers. Full of Monica’s hand squeezing his own, a soft, sad smile playing at the corners of her lips. In the quiet, he believes that he can see a boy with a tousled mop of cornsilk coloured hair standing in the choir, his voice rising and falling like a lark weeping for home.

‘He was- He was so proud of you, my lark,’ Lucy murmurs, following his gaze. She reaches to cup his cheek, her fingers shivering slightly, and he swallows back a sob.

Remembers sitting with her and Monica, Tansy’s head on his lap after the undertakers had taken Frank away. Frank dressed in his dress blues, his wings pinned to his jacket lapel, looking for all the world like he would wake at any moment and-

‘We’ll take care of him, Mrs Bellamy. Mr Morse. Mrs Morse. Don’t you worry about a thing.’

 That morning had been a long, hot stretch in the garden, sitting under a sky full of blustery clouds. They had been sitting under the Oak tree, Lucy’s hands resting on the little headstone memorialising Teddy, Kitty and George.  Joy had been curled up beside Lucy, Peter Rabbit on Lucy’s lap, Freddy on Monica’s. Joyce’s head had been resting on his shoulder, and he had felt all of eleven again, hoping that they wouldn’t be sent away.

The bedroom window had been open, and Dev remembers hoping, that a strain of a record would start playing, that his Da’s out of tune whistling would catch on that breeze, that-

Overhead, the white streak of an aeroplane had cut across the sky.

‘Where d’you think Grandda Frank is now, Granny Lucy?’

Joy’s eyes had been shining as Lucy had smiled a small, soft smile, her eyes skywards.

‘Flying, I expect. With his boys.’

She had turned to Dev then, her eyes shivering with tears as she had reached over to squeeze his hand.

‘But you were his favourite, my lark. Always.’

‘Never forget that, my dear, dear boy.’

[mrbexwrites]

Writblr Q& A

Tagged by @surroundedbypearls here. Thanks so much :D

1. What motivates you to write?

I don't know...I've always spent a lot of time in my own head, and I've always just written down the stories that my brain likes to make up for me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

2. A line/short snippet of your writing that you are most proud/happy of. If not maybe share a line of someone else's work you love (just please credit them)

I absolutely adore this line by @sarahlizziewrites from her WIP Grey Sky Lark :

"I spent the better part of two decades looking for you. I would do it again."

It's just...it gives me actual chills and I think about this line at least once a week.

5. What part of writing do you think you are the best at? (Yes stroke your own ego it's okay)

I think the strongest aspect of my writing is my dialogue. I used to hate it when characters would speak, and I'd end up having them info dump and the speech would be so stilted and robotic. I worked hard to make my dialogue more realistic, and I (hope) my hard work has paid off, and it's now the best parts of my works!

6. What do you enjoy most about the Writeblr community?

I absolutely love seeing everyone else's creative process, and how generous people are with sharing their skills. So many of you just post massive chunks of knowledge about your own publishing/editing/writing experience to help us all get better at what we do, and I'm just in awe! I love the support that everyone has for one another.

7. A writing tool/device you use that helps you with writing? (It could be speech to text, a writing program etc)

I have a notebook to scribble ideas, names, plot lines etc. I've tried to use flash cards in the past, but I tend to lose them, so a note book it is. I treated myself to Scrivener but I haven't really transferred my WIPs across to it yet, as I've not properly had a chance to sit and familiarise myself with it. So still chipping away with Google Docs due to my own procrastination!

8. A piece of worldbuilding that you like in your own story? (It could be the magic system, a particular place in the story, a law etc)

So, Searching for Starlight, a WIP that doesn't get spoken about often has some excellent worldbuilding imo. I'm especially proud of the concept of 'solar sails' for how my spaceships were powered. Totally impractical and wouldn't be able to work with actual physics, but real-world stuff be damned!

9. What piece of advice would you say to encourage others to write if they are having a rough patch?

Just take it one day at a time. Don't force yourself, and be careful of burnout. Listen to music, walk, partake in media you life, and don't feel guilty for not working on your WIP 24/7. Your story deserves to be told, but not at the expense of your health (speaking as someone who hopitalised themselves a couple of years ago doing NaNo who definitely did not take my own advice- I am older and wiser now. Look after yourselves guys; be kind to yourself!)

Tagging @cee-grice @at-thezenith @sam-glade @scifimagpie @queen-tashie @cowboybrunch and leaving an open invite for anyone else who'd like to join in

[dontyoufinditstrange]

Evermore Lyrics That Alter My Brain Chemistry

Willow:

"the more that you say the less i know" "i'm begging for you to take my hand, wreck my plans" "anywhere else is hollow"

Champagne Problems:

"i never was ready so i'll watch you go" "you won't remember all my champagne problems"

Gold Rush:

"i don't like that falling feels like flying til the bone crush" "cause it could never be" "i can't dare to dream about you anymore" "eyes like sinking ships on water so inviting i almost jump in"

Tis The Damn Season

"there's an ache in you put there by the ache in me" "the road not taken looks real good now" "you can run but only so far" "now i'm missing your smile hear me out" "the heart i know i'm breaking is my own"

Tolerate It:

"if it's all in my head tell me now, tell me i've got it wrong somehow" "i know my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it" "where's that man who threw blankets over my barbed wire?" "i made you my temple, my mural, my sky, now i'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life" "always taking up too much space or time"

Happiness:

"showed you all of my hiding spots" "i was dancing when the music stopped" "tell me when did your winning smile begin to look like a smirk?" "when did all our lessons start to look like weapons pointed at my deepest hurt?" "i can't make it go away by making you a villain" "no one teaches you what to do when a good man hurts you and you know you hurt him too"

Dorothea:

"making a lark of the misery" "i got nothing but well wishes for you" "this place is the same as it ever was" "it's never too late to come back to my side" "and if you're ever tired of being known for who you know, you know, you'll always know me" "but are you still the same soul i met under the bleachers?"

Coney Island:

"if i can't relate to you anymore then who am i related to?" "did i shatter you?" "will you forgive my soul?" "did i leave you hanging every single day?" "did i paint your bluest skies the darkest gray?" "a universe away"

Ivy:

"your touch brought forth an incandescent glow" "tarnished but so grand" "grieving for the living" "i can't stop you putting roots in my dream land" "my house of stone, your ivy grows, and now i'm covered in you" "it's a fire, it's a goddamn blaze in the dark and you started it"

Cowboy Like Me:

"now i know, i'm never gonna love again" "it could be love" "we could be the way forward and i know i'll pay for it" "now you hang from my lips like the gardens of babylon" "forever is the sweetest con"

Long Story Short

"actually, i always felt i must look better in the rearview" "now i just know there's more" "and my waves meet your shore ever and evermore" "past me i wanna tell you not to get caught in these petty things" "and he feels like home"

Marjorie:

"i should've asked you questions, i should've asked you how to be" "never be so kind you forget to be clever, never be so clever you forget to be kind" "never be so polite you forget your power, never wield such power you forget to be polite"

Closure:

"it cut deep to know you, right to the bone" "don't treat me like a situation that needs to be handled" "i'm fine with my spite and my tears and my beers and my candles" "i'm just a wrinkle in your new life"

Evermore:

"grey november, i've been down since july" "i replay my footsteps on each stepping stone, trying to find the one where i went wrong" "writing letters addressed to the fire" "and i was catching my breath, staring out an open window catching my death" "hey december, guess i'm feeling unmoored" "can't remember what i used to fight for" "barefoot in the wildest winter catching my death" "and when i was shipwrecked, i thought of you" "in the cracks of light, i dreamed of you"

[carolineworld]

ALL THE BOOKS I’VE READ IN 2022

I’m so late to this but here it is :)

JANUARY:

A Kiss For A Kiss by Helena Hunting 5 ⭐

Fix Her Up by Tessa Bailey 2⭐

Ugly Love by Coleen Hoover  2⭐

From Lukov With Love by Mariana Zapata 5⭐

The Hardest Fall by Ella Maise 5⭐

FEBRUARY:

Corrupt by Penelope Douglas 2⭐

Birthday Girl by Penelope Douglas 4′5⭐

Hideaway by Penelope Douglas 4⭐

All Rhodes Lead Here by Mariana Zapata 4⭐

Piso Para Dos (The Flatshare) by Beth O’Leary 4′5⭐

The Intimacy Experiement by Rosie Danan 3′25⭐

Neon Gods by Katee Roberts 5⭐

Addicted To You by Kristina and Becca Ritchie 2⭐

Terms And Conditions by Lauren Asher 5⭐

MARCH:

Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas 3′75⭐

Conclave by Penelope Douglas 3′5⭐

Ricochet by Kristina and Becca Ritchie  4⭐

Addicted For Now by Kristina and Becca Ritchie  5⭐

Hook, Line And Sinker by Tessa Bailey 5⭐

Kiss The Sky by Kristina and Becca Ritchie  5⭐

Hothouse Flower by Kristina and Becca Ritchie  5⭐

Fire Night  by Penelope Douglas 3⭐

Thrive by Kristina and Becca Ritchie  4′75⭐

Addicted After All by Kristina and Becca Ritchie  5⭐

Fuel The Fire by Kristina and Becca Ritchie  5⭐

Long Way Down by Kristina and Becca Ritchie  5⭐

Some Kind Of Perfect by Kristina and Becca Ritchie  5⭐

Sweet Temptation by Cora Reilly 4′75 ⭐

Bound By Honor by Cora Reilly 1′75 ⭐

Bound By Hatred by Cora Reilly 3′75 ⭐

The Kiss Quotient by Helen Hoang 3 ⭐

APRIL:

Todo Lo Que Nunca Fuimos by Alice Kellen 2 ⭐

Mr. Masters by TJ. Swan  3 ⭐

Todo Lo Que Somos Juntos by Alice Kellen 3′5 ⭐

Mr. Spencer by TJ. Swan  3 ⭐

Electric Idol by Katee Roberts 4⭐

The Silent Patient by Alex Michaelides  4⭐

Marriage For One  by Ella Maise 2⭐

Bound By Temptation by Cora Reilly 4 ⭐

You Deserve Each Other by Sarah Hogle  4 ⭐

Bound By Love by Cora Reilly 3⭐

Bound By Blood by Cora Reilly 3⭐

Twisted Emotions  by Cora Reilly 4⭐

Twisted Pride by Cora Reilly 4⭐

Twisted Bonds by Cora Reilly 5⭐

Dating Dr. Dil by Nisha Sharma 3 ⭐

MAY:

Archer’s Voice by Mia Sheridan  5⭐

Long Shot by Kennedy Ryan 4 ⭐

Whatever It Takes by Kristina and Becca Ritchie  5⭐

Wherever You Are by Kristina and Becca Ritchie  5⭐

JUNE:

Faking With Benefits by Lily Gold  5⭐

Marfil by Mercedes Ron 2 ⭐

One Percent Of You by Michelle Gross  5⭐

My Killer Vacation by Tessa Bailey 4⭐

People We Meet On Vacation by Emily Henry 4 ⭐

A Million Kisses In Your Timeline by Monica Murphy 4 ⭐

Meet Me Halfway by Lilian T. James  5⭐

JULY:

Mr. Wrong Number by Lynn Painter 3 ⭐

Puck Shy by Teagan Hunter 5 ⭐

Blind Pass by Teagan Hunter 5 ⭐

One-Timer by Teagan Hunter 5 ⭐

Texting Titan by Kaci Rose  3 ⭐

The Favor by Suzanne Wright 3 ⭐ 

Royally Screwed by Emma Chase 4 ⭐

Royally Endowed by Emma Chase 5 ⭐

Royally Matched by Emma Chase 5⭐

Sin Bin by Teagan Hunter 5 ⭐

Ignite by Melanie Harlow 3 ⭐

AUGUST:

Blind Side by Kandi Steiner 5 ⭐

Flawless by Elsie Silver 5 ⭐

Things We Never Got Over by Lucy Score 5 ⭐

Praise by Sara Cate 3⭐

Eyes On Me by Sara Cate 4⭐

Give Me More by Sara Cate 5⭐

Mercy by Sara Cate 3⭐

SEPTEMBER:

Beach Read by Emily Henry 5⭐

Icebreaker by Hannah Grace  5⭐

The Inheritance Games by Jennifer Lynn Barnes 4 ⭐

The Hawthrone Legacy by Jennifer Lynn Barnes 4 ⭐

The Final Gambit by Jennifer Lynn Barnes 3 ⭐

Nanny For The Neighbors by Lily Gold 4 ⭐

Mile High by Liz Tomforde 5 ⭐

OCTOBER: 

Sunny Disposition by Deanna Grey 3 ⭐

I Dare You by Isla Madden-Mills 3 ⭐

I Bet You by Isla Madden-Mills 4 ⭐

I Hate You by Isla Madden-Mills 3 ⭐

I Promise You by Isla Madden-Mills 5⭐

Brutal Prince by Sophie Lark 4 ⭐

Scoring Chance by Teagan Hunter 5⭐

Heartless by Elsie Silver 5 ⭐

Out Of The Gate by Elsie Silver 3 ⭐

Stolen Heir by Sophie Lark 3⭐

Savage Lover by Sophie Lark 5⭐

Bloody Heart by Sophie Lark 5⭐

Broken Vow by Sophie Lark 5⭐

Heavy Crown by Sophie Lark 2⭐

NOVEMBER:

A Good Girl’s Guide To Murder by Holly Jackson 5 ⭐

Good Girl, Bad Blood by Holly Jackson 4⭐

 As Good As Dead by Holly Jackson 3⭐

DECEMBER:

Happenstance by Tessa Bailey 3 ⭐

Lucky Number Eleven by Adriana Locke 2 ⭐

Lovelight Farms by B.K. Borison 4 ⭐

[stardust-in-my-mind-blog]

athena confirmation

the crows were wild in the tree my neighbor planted

to remember the daughter who reminds her of me

she was an answered prayer for me

those crows have been talking about something

for awhile now and when I looked out my window

there were four of them harassing that tree

what was the murder for i wonder?

my curiosity got the best of me and I grabbed a hoodie

and put on shoes because it rained and I hate grassy rain

two crows flew over my head in the grey sky

two of them kept spiraling around the tree

it was ridiculous in fashion but very efficient

because all of a sudden an owl took wing

she was beautiful and big and so annoyed

at the antics of those boisterous crows

last week lightning hit the heart of a tree

in another neighbor's yard

this week there was an owl looking at me

looking at that tree my neighbor planted for memory

blue jays and larks and owls and crows

the unseen world is the sky and we just stop remembering

to look up at it to see the theatre of heaven

clouds of the high seas and we walking storms

giving others our fair and not so fair weather

we are all connected and yet so alone

like the stars and their constellation paths

where we use to make sense of a universe

we all know we know nothing about

but we do the best we can

I said a quick prayer to Athena to thank her

it was an honor to be visited personally

[pearlsoflongago]

Voices of April

Breezes, Blossoms, and Birds

Prunieurs en Fleurs/Plum Trees in Bloom by Clause Monet

The West Wind

It’s a warm wind, the west wind, full of birds’ cries; I never hear the west wind but tears are in my eyes. For it comes from the west lands, the old brown hills, And April’s in the west wind, and daffodils.

It’s a fine land, the west land, for hearts as tired as mine, Apple orchards blossom there, and the air’s like wine. There is cool green grass there, where men may lie at rest, And the thrushes are in song there, fluting from the nest.

‘Will ye not come home, brother? ye have been long away, It’s April, and blossom time, and white is the may; And bright is the sun, brother, and warm is the rain,— Will ye not come home, brother, home to us again?

‘The young corn is green, brother, where the rabbits run, It’s blue sky, and white clouds, and warm rain and sun. It’s song to a man’s soul, brother, fire to a man’s brain, To hear the wild bees and see the merry spring again.

‘Larks are singing in the west, brother, above the green wheat, So will ye not come home, brother, and rest your tired feet? I’ve a balm for bruised hearts, brother, sleep for aching eyes,’ Says the warm wind, the west wind, full of birds’ cries.

It’s the white road westwards is the road I must tread To the green grass, the cool grass, and rest for heart and head, To the violets and the warm hearts and the thrushes’ song, In the fine land, the west land, the land where I belong.

-John Masefield

De Roze Perzikboom/Blossoming Pear Tree by Vincent van Gogh

Home Thoughts, From Abroad

O, to be in England Now that April 's there, And whoever wakes in England Sees, some morning, unaware, That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf, While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough In England—now!

And after April, when May follows, And the whitethroat builds, and all the swallows! Hark, where my blossom'd pear-tree in the hedge Leans to the field and scatters on the clover Blossoms and dewdrops—at the bent spray's edge— That 's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over, Lest you should think he never could recapture The first fine careless rapture! And though the fields look rough with hoary dew, All will be gay when noontide wakes anew The buttercups, the little children's dower —Far brighter than this gaudy melon-flower!

—Robert Browning

Song of a Second April

April this year, not otherwise Than April of a year ago, Is full of whispers, full of sighs, Of dazzling mud and dingy snow; Hepaticas that pleased you so Are here again, and butterflies.

There rings a hammering all day, And shingles lie about the doors; In orchards near and far away The grey woodpecker taps and bores; And men are merry at their chores, And children earnest at their play.

The larger streams run still and deep, Noisy and swift the small brooks run Among the mullein stalks the sheep Go up the hillside in the sun, Pensively,—only you are gone, You that alone I cared to keep.

—Edna St. Vincent Millay

Pear Blossoms by Winslow Homer

[sarahlizziewrites]

OC Kiss Week 2024 - Day 2 - “Rain”

In which Matthew Raynott returns to his old lover, a changed man. (1646 words) WIP: Grey-Sky Lark (pre-canon) Characters: Edward Soames, Matthew Raynott Taglist: @mrbexwrites, @hippiewrites Content warning: suggestive

Spring had arrived in a torrent of icy rain from the Atlantic, turning Downing College’s lawn to a great muddy bog. Umbrellas became strewn sacrifices along Cambridge’s streets, trapped, inside-out, in spokes of bicycle tyres. 

Little of it mattered to Edward. Reading week brought with it a pile of books almost as high as his hip, and he had nothing to do but enjoy them. Seminars and lectures were suspended - would have been for the weather, anyway - but the fire was well-stocked, and Edward’s roommate had travelled home for the week. 

So when a knock sounded at his door just as he had settled into an evening of picking apart Milton’s tapestry of words, he rose to answer it with no small amount of irritation.

Irritation which melted away almost at once when he saw who it was.

“May I come in?”

Matthew’s hair was darkened into thick clumps by the rain, and he wore no coat. His suit was ruined, his expression grim. And though he hadn’t seen him in almost a year, Edward’s heart would never fail to skip a beat when he looked into those piercing blue eyes.

“Of course.”

He backed up and allowed his old friend to enter. Dozens of things to say entered Edward’s mind but died on his tongue - what does one say to one’s friend and former lover, estranged by nothing more trivial than the narrow distance between two universities? But when he saw the dark puddles of water that Matthew was leaving on the carpet, water running in rivulets from his clothes, he settled on: “Christ, Matthew, did you walk from Oxford?”

Matthew smiled, forced and uneasy. Edward quietly longed for the smile that was bright like sunshine, the one he knew was hard to look at too long. But now, even this insincere smile faltered, as though Matthew had only just noticed the distance that had grown between them, far wider than the length of the room. “No, this is just since the station,” he said, as his clothes gently dripped. “It’s biblical out there.”

Edward watched him carefully as he looked around at the fire, the pile of books, and at Paradise Lost waiting patiently on the window seat. He waited for a jab at his reading choice, some kind of joke about his reading more than was mandatory, or the ambitious speed at which he planned to do so. But none came: instead, Matthew looked at him from underneath sable lashes, his smile thin and lacking warmth, his expression dour.

“Why are you here, Matthew?” 

He blinked once, before saying: “I’m here to say goodbye.”

“What?”

He had just come back; goodbye wasn’t on the table. Yes, Edward had grown resentful at their distance; had cursed his own heart for falling for someone so fickle. But despite it all, he couldn’t deny that it was towards Matthew that his heart always tugged and prodded.

Edward moved closer, narrowing that space in the room, but Matthew backed away from him, keeping the distance the same, holding his palms before him in either aversion or surrender. “I… I just wanted to see you one last time. Perhaps I shouldn’t have come.”

“Don't–” Edward said, moving forward again. This time, slower, as though Matthew was a cornered animal. “Don’t say things like that.” Yes, they had drifted apart. But Edward couldn’t fathom a future that didn’t feature Matthew in some way. 

Matthew shook his head, flicking water droplets around the room. “I shouldn’t have come.” 

Something shifted when Matthew at last allowed him to touch - a floodgate had opened. On his face, care and concern mingled with an old affection. The time they had spent apart melted like settled snow meeting rain, disappearing to nothing, and for all that had changed, they might as well have been sixteen again, craving each others’ touch and convinced that nothing would ever change.

“You should get out of these wet clothes.”

Sliding his hands beneath the shoulders of Matthew’s jacket to slide it off was the only sensible thing he could think to do - the only thing he could think to do that would stop Matthew from leaving in that moment.

Matthew let him free the sopping jacket from his shoulders. And once the jacket had been hung on the back of the chair, still dripping into the carpet, he allowed him to do the same to his waistcoat, its grey wool darkened in patches with rainwater. In silence, Matthew watched as Edward carefully removed his cufflinks and unfolded his cuffs.

His shirt was damp as well, and with Matthew’s hands continuing to unfasten the buttons from the top down, Edward began from the bottom, giddy on the heady feeling of being so intimate with Matthew again. His fingers fumbled on the buttons, almost as skittish as when he had first done so, all those years ago, and he twitched away when Matthew’s hands met his, somewhere near the middle. 

When he looked up, Matthew’s eyes were squeezed shut, almost as though he was in pain.

“We really mustn’t do this,” he said, but his hand found Edward’s neck, sending shivers through him, despite the proximity of the fire. “I can’t promise…” he trailed off, bending towards him with a shuddering sigh. He was even closer to Edward now, but still only touching at those few pre-ordained places, holding back, tense as a racing hound. “I should go,” he said again, his voice a whisper.

The room was near-silent, apart from the fire. The rain continued to drum, distantly, outside. But damn him - Matthew’s presence always made Edward’s blood roar in his ears; always made his heart race like he was running uphill. 

“You mustn’t go,” Edward replied, voice humming deep in his chest. He had always been the cautious one, not Matthew. But if he hadn’t come here for this, why had he come here at all? “I’ve learned not to take your promises too seriously anyway.” 

Even as he said so, his hands slid against Matthew’s chest again and found his braces, sliding them from his shoulders. With a sigh barely loud enough for Edward to hear, Matthew’s lips came to rest over his thundering pulse, not kissing, but just lingering there in a tantalising brush. 

“I missed you, Eddie,” he mumbled into his skin, the words spilling from him, more felt than heard. He dragged his nose up the side of Edward’s neck: it wouldn’t matter how long they had been apart; Edward’s body would remember that sensation and react in the way it always had, tugging him forward with an ache below his collarbone. “I could have used your manner of confronting my bad habits at Oxford.”

Having undone each button of Matthew’s shirt, all that was left was his trousers. Edward’s fingers lingered at the button; Matthew’s hand tightened on his neck. 

“I wrote you,” Edward said, allowing his eyes to slide closed. The last thing he saw was the blurred world outside; the stirring lights of the street beyond the rain-clouded glass. “You never replied.”

Matthew did kiss his skin then, lips pressing at the spot where his collar ended. “Four,” he said, over the crackling sound of the fire, before kissing his pulse point again, trembling.

“Hmm?”

“Four. You wrote me four letters.” A hand slid around Edward’s waist as though it had never been anywhere else. “I don’t know why I didn’t reply to them. I wanted to. They just… sat there on my desk, judging me. And the longer they sat there, the harder it became to reply. I’m…” he smeared a sloppy kiss just below Edward’s ear. “Eddie, I’m so sorry.”

With that, Edward grabbed a fistful of his hair, wringing the strands and sending water trickling down Matthew’s back, and pulled him to his lips for a kiss. 

None of it mattered: the time apart, the unanswered letters, the promised goodbye - because Matthew was pulling him close by his hips and kissing him back hungrily, groaning into his mouth. 

Touching him hungrily, too, as though his hands couldn’t get enough. They were in his hair, and tugging at his shirt to untuck it, keenly seeking skin, pulling him towards the single bed. Once Edward had undone the button holding his trousers up, they fell into a wet heap, and Matthew stepped free from them, all with his lips on Edward’s.

The hands that undressed him were careful; so careful. Still, they left chills in their wake. Everything that followed was achingly gentle. Edward almost would have preferred something rushed and indelicate, something that didn’t feel so much like he was being picked apart more thoroughly than he had planned to pick apart Paradise Lost that evening. Something that didn’t feel quite so much like goodbye.

When they were through, wordlessly, they formed their usual shape: Edward resting his head on Matthew’s chest, Matthew’s arm surrounding his body. They fit in the small bed better like this; always had.

After a few moments, Matthew stirred, rising from the bed. Edward watched him leave, sick of reaching for something that wouldn’t be there. That didn’t mean he didn’t miss his presence though, that the small bed didn’t feel cavernous without him in it. 

He wanted to promise that he’d love him no matter what, or some other such platitude. He wanted to turn back the clock and bring back the Matthew he had loved. 

This other Matthew slid on his clothes, still cold and wet. Shoved his tie in a pocket, glanced back at him in bed with Matthew’s blue eyes. 

And somehow, he knew, that when the man in Matthew’s body leaned down to kiss him once more, drawing a thumb over his bottom lip, lingering close for one last goodbye, that he would never see him again, and if he wrote, he wouldn’t get a reply. 

[burstingstones]

Territory Maps

NEUTRAL TERRITORY//

1 - Meeting Space / Flower Field // A spread of wildflowers, this is a regular meeting space between the Colonies. Trades often take place here, from tanned rabbit hides to cooked mice to leather bracelets.

•─────⋅☾ ☆ ☽⋅─────•

CLOUDBURST TERRITORY//

2 - Cloudburst Camp // Set just a few feet away from the edge of the cliffs, Cloudburst Colony's camp offers little natural shelter. Instead, the cats have woven dens of brambles, flowers, and tall grasses to keep themselves warm, though their thick fur does a lot of the work.

3 - Heart Copse // The reason for the name of this little patch of trees has been long since lost to time. It's a nice place to find lark eggs, a nice treat among Cirrusi.

4 - Hare Meadows // A large meadow with tall grass. Hares make their homes here, and they make good meals should you catch them.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

PIPESTONE TERRITORY//

5 - Pipestone Camp // Should one approach the place where Pipers make their camp, they'd not see much. Tall trees, sure, their boughs scraping the sky, but very few cats. The true camp is a labyrinth of tunnels, dug below the trees and reinforced with stone.

6 - Scorched Hollow // A bare hollow, the ground scorched and brown.  Nothing grows here, and it makes a good training spot.

7 - Firefly Oak // A giant oak covered in Spanish moss.  A well-loved place for fireflies, it's almost magical to see in warm summer evenings.

•─────⋅☾ ☆ ❀•°•───────•

SHARED TERRITORY//

8 - Sheer Cliffs // Tall stone cliffs leading down to a small sandy beach. They're treacherous slopes, and can be deadly if you don't know exactly what you're doing.

9 - Ocean // Favoured by Cloudstone Colony and scorned by Pipestone Colony, the ocean is a tempermental mistress. Some days it's calm and blue, and others it's angry and grey.

10 - Sandy Beach // The sand here is so fine it's almost water, and so golden it's practically worth thousands.

•─────⋅☾ ☆ ❀•°•───────•

OUTSIDE TERRITORY//

11 - Frozen Wastelands / Mountains // Mountains encircling the Colony territories. They're tall and cold, imposing a border on the world.

[namesetc]

masc/neu names like: fog, rain, cloud, lake please

fog:

raine, mist, smoke, steam, eon, jay, stone, pollen, hail, ash, snow, haze, frost, wind, soot, sky/skye

rain:

river, drop, storm, pond, echo, drizzle, asher, reed, thunder, light, gloom, wind, zephyr, creek, blizzard, stream

cloud:

shadow, thorn, ocean/oceanus/oceano, tidus/tide, mercury, neptune, poisedon, leaf, petrichor, winter, salix, dusk, dawn, wren, glaze, breeze, gust

lake:

grey/gray, lark, harbour/harbor, dock, lux, easton, ravine, rivin/riven, rivine, brook, mast, fable, sea, land, pebble, elm, fjord, west, lane

feel free to request for more

[duaneharlow92]

Chilly, Overcast Days

I go out the porch to see if the weather has improved. Light rains. Overcast. It hasn't. Thank heavens. The sky is completely covered with thick, opaque clouds. Three days of grey clouds followed by uninterrupted rain and frogs croaking in the background is pure bliss to me. I'm happy as a lark enjoying the early morning breeze.

Doesn't matter if the streets are slippery when you go out for a drive or that you have to run for cover when you step out of your vehicle if you happen to forget your umbrella. Rainy overcast weather is always welcome when you have hot, sunny climate all the time. Give me rain over clear skies. Rain is like a good friend that's nice to have around. It calms me but also revs me up.

Back in the day, we waited for the announcement of classes being suspended due to bad weather. When you're a kid and you have a whole day all to yourself, it feels like you got yourself the present you've always wished for. Or like eating your favorite ice cream or chocolate bar. Or watching cartoons nonstop. Long before Duane came into the picture, I was doing good. I didn't need anything. I was content with my life and comfortable in my own skin. I just needed my alone time to destress every once in a while and raindrops outside… and I'm alright in the world.

[queeruscant]

These Star Wars characters are canonically queer! Links to each character profile will be added as they are posted. List begins under the cut!

Ackmena

Adrialla

Alak

Alys Ongwa, aka Crash

Amara Kel, aka Shadow

Amilyn Holdo

Ariole Yu

Audj Seedol

Aurin

Aytar

Baako Moradi

Beesar Tal-Apurna

Bibs

Brene

Cassie Cryar

Casul Seedol

Caysin Bog

Ceret

Chase Wilsorr

Chass na Chadic

Chelli Lona Aphra

Chellwinark Frethylrin

Cincey

Cinta Kaz

Cohmac Vitus

Conder Kyl

Dec Hansen

Deemus Abrus

Delian Mors

Detta Yao

Dima

Domina Tagge

Eemee

Ela Radodan

Eleodie Maracavanya

Emory

Er Dal

Eron

Erta

Esmelle

Eustacia Okka

Falloo

Fel Ix

Flix

Gen Tri

Gido

Ginruda

Gojuni Motts-Danel

Gulu

Hackrack Bep

Hareck

Harli Jafan

Harmon

Holo

Howlrunner (Theta Squadron)

Ilini

Ilyana

Ione Marcy

Irei

Isabalia

Jezra'lin

Jom Lariin

Jordan Smythe

Jordanna Sparkburn

Joy Iya

Just Lucky

Kaeden Larte

Kalandra

Kantam Sy

Keo Venzee

Kho Phon Farrus

Kimb

Kinni

Kiren

Kitrep Soh

Klerin Chekkat

Kor Plouth

Kryys Durango

Lando Calrissian

Lapin Tagge

Larma D'Acy

Ledaney

Lee Skillen

Leox Gyasi

Losha Tarkon

Lula Talisola

Luu

Magna Tolvan

Marlowe San Tekka

Matthea Cathley

Merrin

Moona

Monti Calay

Murra Mors

Nubarron

Occo Quentto

Odelia

Orka

Oshi Karmo

Rae Sloane

Raf Thatchburn

Raidah Doon

Reyé Hollis

Rhee

Ric Farazi

Rooper Nitani

Sabé

Saché

Sana Starros

Sannab Ro

Shirene

Sinjir Rath Velus

Sister

Sky Graf

Smeemarm

Sola Naberrie

Sonogari

Sorschi

Svi'no Atchapat

Sylvestri Yarrow

T'onga

Taka Jamoreesa

Tal Veridian

Tam Posla

Tans

Tantagru Motts-Danel

Tareesh

Teemank

Tepoh

Terec

Thandeka

TK-421

Ty Yorrick

Tyros

Varko Grey

Vel Sartha

Vellis San Tekka

Vernestra Rwoh

Vi Moradi

Vukorah

Wesson Dove

Wilhuff Tarkin

Wrobie Tyce

Wyl Lark

Yana Ro

Yané

Yarli Yren

Yrica Quell

Zae-Brii

Zeen Mrala

Zian

Zohma

[teabooksandsweets]

A City of Bells

Chapter I — Part II

And now, after a railway journey of unbelievable slowness and intricacy, Jocelyn was nearly at Torminster. He had never been there before, for Grandfather’s working life had been spent in the slums of a North Country town, and the thought of seeing old friends in a new place, like a prized jewel in a fresh setting, was sufficiently exciting to pierce like a shaft of light into his dark mind.

There would be Grandfather himself, and Grandmother, a forcible old lady who had spent a busy and exhausting life trying to counteract the effect upon the family finances of Grandfather’s saintliness, and the orphaned grandson who lived with them, Jocelyn’s cousin Hugh Anthony whom he had seen last as a baby, and the little girl they had adopted to keep him company … Just like the lovable stupidity of Grandfather to adopt yet another child in his old age … And there would be the elderly servants, Ellen and Sarah, who had spoilt him so when he was a boy, suffering his booby-traps with admirable patience and letting him lick the jam-spoons after breakfast.

And these beloved people would be living not in the middle of smoke and noise and poverty, but in peace and beauty, in, a setting that matched the personalities they had created through their years of hard work. That was as it should be, Jocelyn thought, for who should dare to live in the middle of peace and beauty who has not earned it?

As though to prepare him for the city that lay at its heart the country was becoming more and more beautiful. It was that moment of spring when the world is pink and blue in the distance and yellow and white close at hand. Blue hills were piled against the sky in shapes more lovely than a man can build and the woods that lay at their feet or crept up their sides had all flushed rosily at the kiss of the spring. The gorse was in riotous bloom and each green field broke at its edge into a froth of blossoming blackthorn. The primroses were in flower and the larks were singing. It was a still, warm day after rain, and delicious smells came to Jocelyn through the window, the smell of the gorse and the wallflowers in the cottage gardens, the smell of wood smoke and freshly turned earth and rain-washed grass and fresh beginnings. A pity to be tired of life in such a world, thought Jocelyn. If the old earth could wash herself and begin again so often and so humbly, why could not a man do the same?

The train swung round a bend, the blue hills parted like a curtain and the city of Torminster was visible. Seen from a little distance it had a curiously unsubstantial air, as though it were something real yet intangible, a thing you could see but not touch. It lay in a hollow of the hills like a child in its mother’s lap and it seemed that as it lay there it slept. It looked so quiet that it was hard to believe the ordinary life of men and women went on in its streets. Rather it seemed a buried city sunk at the bottom of the sea, where no life stirred and no sound was heard but the ringing of the bells as the tide surged through forgotten towers and steeples. Jocelyn could see a confused mass of roofs and chimneys and church-spires, some high and some low, weather-stained and twisted by age into fantastic shapes. The smoke from the chimneys went straight up into the windless air and then seemed to dissolve into a mist that lay over the city like the waves of the sea that had drowned it, and out of this sea rose a grey rock with three towers … The Cathedral … It stood there gloriously, its majesty softened by the warm day but not diminished, its towers a little withdrawn in the sky yet no less watchful.