madamwyrd
Madam Wyrd
Call me Lav ~ she/her pronouns ~ taken
38 posts
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a wild russian begins digging his burrow for the night
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🥺🥺
“I like old bookstores, the smell of coffee brewing, rainy day naps, farmhouse porches, and sunsets. I like the sweet, simple things that remind me that life doesn’t have to be complicated to be beautiful.”
— Brooke Hampton
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damn. that. really makes a lot of sense
I think one reason writers struggle with writing is that many of us weren't taught how to write fiction. We learned how to write essays but few of us had teachers who sat us down and said "here is a step by step process for going from an idea to a plan to a draft to a final product. Here is a path and a structure you can follow, here are things to do when you get stuck."
Instead most of us just fell in love with finished stories, and were left to ourselves to discover what process might have created them.
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yea cos last i checked real history doesnt have magic or dragons. where are my dragons dammit
people would rather try learning ever bit of lore an history from a fictional universe then our own history.
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"No man of woman born-"
"But what if they were born from a trans man? Or a nonbinary person? Or was born via c-section? And what about women? Or nonbinary people??? YOUR PROPHECY SUCKS"
A group of female and non-binary adventurers go around exploiting poorly worded curses/prophecies/enchantments proclaiming that “no man” shall do this or that thing.
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This is genuinely one of my favourite things I've ever read.
one for sorrow. love her like a secret you won't even tell yourself. look at her like she is your sun, never let it occur to you that she might be looking at you like you are her stars, because of course she isn’t.
two for joy. be her best friend, tell her about your hopes and dreams and wishes and fears. listen to her talk for hours about things she loves and be so swept up in her happiness you forget to be sad that you are not on the list.
three for a girl. confess that there is a part of you folded up like a love letter and sealed with your lips. say i like girls too and somehow you are not surprised when she says the same.
four for a boy. admit that you are not perfect, that you have let yourself fall too far too fast for too many boys who say you have nice eyes. say no one will ever catch me, and say it so matter-of-fact, so this-is-the-way-things-are-and-i-believe-that, that you are shocked when her disbelief cuts through the air like diamonds.
five for silver. tell her all about how you used to lie in your bed beneath a window and think about how love is moonlight and cold hands and whispered prayers. tell her all about how you convinced yourself it is lonelier than stars.
six for gold. she shows you that it doesn’t have to be. not that she’d know she’s teaching you of course, but when you both talk about how much you mean to each other (don’t cry, she is your friend, don’t cry) you find that there is sunlight blooming in your lungs and why did it not feel like this before?
seven for a secret never to be told. keep your words tucked tightly between your ribs and hold them there; tell her she is friendly and don’t tell her she is warm. tell her she is funny and don’t tell her you think of her every time you read poetry. don’t tell her, don’t tell her, don’t tell her.
eight for a wish. you do not wish for love or romance or requited feelings. you have never wished for any of that. you have known love from a distance and you have known closeness when it is feigned and you know you could never bring yourself to trap her with your own selfish desires. love is not love when the spinster is the one weaving it.
nine for a kiss. why, why, why are you like this? why do you only want the things you are too afraid to have? look, she is here, you see? look, she wants you, you see? why won’t you let yourself have any of it? why do you tear yourself apart over things that could be so simple if only you would let them?
ten for a sign you must not miss. her palm is against yours, her thumb brushes your wrist. the water is very still. be brave. be brave. turn your head and hold her face and know that she will kiss you back. kiss her, and kiss her the way authors and poets never get quite right—kiss her like you are kissing the sky.
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This movie was a train wreck, we can all agree, but this the best version of Mercutio ever performed, and you cannot convince me otherwise
Harold Perrineau as Mercutio in Romeo + Juliet (1996)
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Me: ughhhh i hate technology, i wish i could just destroy my phone and computer and live the way i did when i was a kid
Also me: *is in a primarily long distance relationship* *is immunocompromised and cannot go to in person school without dying* *enjoys video games*
#seriously though what the fuck is up with this#like all i wanna do is just ditch tech and live in a castle#but nooo i gotta be chronically ill and shit
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Draw a rooster with arms
I’ll draw something you request in the reblog :) , just for the love of god don’t make it too complex please
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This is just a blog of fake pride flags and I'm here for it
Overture - Submitted by SeesawSiya
#361c5b #562f72 #7f397f #a63c86 #4467e6 #2f7599
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Hell was not how I expected it to be.
Writing Prompt #1508
I’d been promised blue skies and warmth, and yet I was stuck in a world chilled with gray and frost.
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we as a human race were robbed of something when hendrix died. like what the fuck god, i wanted to see an old man jimi hendrix a little washed up but still making music, like peter gabriel. but noooooo, all the best people just HAVE to be mortal
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As a person with teacher parents and on virtual learning, yeah I get it
My mom is a teacher and she asked her students what was hard about virtual learning and one kid said not knowing who is tall or short and everyone agreed
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oh dear god
You are a marriage councillor and your first clients are history’s most infamous couple. No not Romeo and Juliet but Zeus and Hera
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even better: snakes with cat noses that meow at you
hear me out: snakes but with cat noses
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