Favourate fanfic series of all time. I’ve reread it so many times, it’s so good
Emily said once that being nervous was his full time job. Even now, Adam doesn't know if he considers that to be very fair. At the time he’d laughed. It’s more of a hobby, he’d said. For it to be a job I'd have to get paid. At the current moment, face flushed by drink and blasted by a late night breeze that’s a mixture of boiled fetid garbage and car exhaust, five stories away from the crippling ground, those nerves are all he can focus on. His nerves, and not developing a case of vertigo. He’s always been a bit nervous, a bit shy. Highschool had been rough, honestly. He’d been quiet, contemplative and, above all, nervous, and that was back in the days when bullies had eaten his discomfort with glee. Is high school is still like that? For Lydia's sake, he hopes not. Maybe girls are kinder now than they were then. Maybe kids who are different or strange don’t get the short end of the stick. Maybe he’ll be a millionaire by next week.
Creatives 💫
Skull, watercolor and ink by BowingMoth
silly little doodles of another idea me and my best friend had
+ why they thought he was dead
Alphonse Mucha’s “Primrose and Feather” homage
This print is available in my shop!
HA SOMEONE SAY UNKLE AHAHHA @fandomawesomeness
Activate Stiflingly Protective Big Brother Turbo Boost
Labor Day
The Gondor Chronicle's headline reads Brilliant Military Strategist and War Hero Absolutely Loses His Goddamn Mind During Sister-in-Law's Routine Labor
Beregond didn't anticipate this under the Extra Duties as Assigned clause in his job description
Somebody say uncle, quick
NEW LIFE NEW LIFE NEW LIFE IN A WORLD HE THOUGHT WAS ENDING, YOU GUYS
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Boromir Lives: Helm's Deep
Boromir Lives: Whump-Time After Pelennor
Boromir Lives: GO TO SLEEP
Boromir Lives: Aragorn's Coronation
Boromir Lives: Faramir and Eowyn's Wedding
Boromir Lives: The Haircuts
Ceramics by Scrimshaw Pottery
FLOWERS
also yes
I can
Even through death, and seemingly impossible life, they are amplified in their beauty, and all that is believed and thought into them. They are frozen in the moment of life, and in death, show the meaning of love.
Though the ice has a deathly touch, it’s sweet caress petrified, and preserved it.
The love and life the flowers were given by, forever trapped in grateful departure.
Someone, whoever it was, brought withe those flowers love and bittersweet memories within them. And those offerings to the departed, confined in the glittering storm.
Withe what destroys, a storm of tears and sorrow. But even through the darkness comes a gleaming life. A preserved moment. Forever against the odds.
And through the storm, you see light. You see love and hate and happiness and sorrow. And throughout all of that, is the moment of the past, meeting withe the present, and turning into the future.
And withe what moment passes, and withe what storm may happen, comes forth the moments given and the love preserved in an endless embrace.
An embrace, that supposedly has the claws of deaths, sweetly reminds you.
Reminds you of what is to come, and what has come, meeting in impossible odds, to become the present.
@fandomawesomeness there ya go!
cemetery flowers after the ice storm photography: Peter Fricke
Crochet pattern for spider body
Chaos Magic is the hardest to learn but the easiest to master. All it requires is the abject belief that your ritual will have an effect, despite all evidence to the contrary, and then it will.
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