River dance, Hong Kong style. by briyen

I drew this last September. tell me guys what you think!!

Trying these bagged goldfish out, what do you think? 🐠 . . . . . . . . . . #goldfish #earrings #comingsoon #fish #carnival #games #quirkyearrings #quirky #tellmewhatyouthink #quirkyfashion #sealife #beachvibes #summervibes #boardwalk #dashoffun #etsy #smallbusiness https://www.instagram.com/p/Co44l1ouzOX/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

Here are my designs for Tony,Sketch n Colin! Added one with less vibrant red! :)

Can we talk about this? Katniss says she’s not used to being touched, EXCEPT BY PEETA or her family! CF pg. 81. She’s USED to being touched by him. So natural for her.

Later, in MJ while mourning for Peeta, she again refuses to be touched except by Haymitch, page 163, BECAUSE HE LOVES PEETA TOO!! So much significance in this! Ughh! Please share your thoughts!

#I’mtoast #socrushedforher #tellmewhatyouthink

@thesweetnessofspring @thesmileykate @little-lynx @everlarkedalways @tetheredfeathers @thesunpersists @waywardangel-wilds

I wasn’t tagged; just had to flex a little, because I looked damn good the other day.

A segment from the book I’m working on.

Sarah Turner was 30.

And she was running for her life.

On her left ankle, a sizeable dark purple bruise was making her constant parkour run across the city’s smaller buildings unbearable. On the right side of her torso, the blanket she was pressing against her with her elbow is barely able to stop her blood from leaking. In the back of her right shoulder, cold wind left a burning pain as it passed through two bullet holes. Under her left arm, there was a seemingly-ordinary shoebox covered in a brown paper bag. This simple shoebox contained years of world-saving knowledge that had been in her family for three generations. It was the second most important thing Sarah has ever owned.

The first most important was cradled in her right arm, watching his mother struggle to survive his first birthday.

Sarah ran and ran, not daring to look back; she finally managed to get a good momentum going, and any new movement she might try could have ended up causing her literal downfall. She couldn’t risk that.

She finally saw a sign of potential hope: a moving van, two buildings down. A young Taiwanese couple – Elwood & Belle – were exiting the fully-packed van, smiles on their faces and love in their eyes. The rest of the street was empty; everyone else was either at work, school, or at home, glued to their television sets as the news updated them on the actions of the greatest American heroine and an unidentified man fighting and accusing one another of committing a double-murder.

Sarah ran towards the van, praying for compassionate souls.

The young husband closed the van’s backdoor and dusted his hands on one another. His bride-of-two-weeks, overcome with joy and excitement, could barely keep her eyes dry.

“Well,” Elwood said, “I guess we better get a move on. Ontario isn’t going to wait for us!”

Before the happy couple could laugh, a woman’s desperate voice cried out, “Wait!!” from above. The two of them looked up and watched a battered and bleeding heroine leap from the four-story building across the street and land on a cab parked in front of them, crushing it under the weight of muscle and fear. Sarah tried to stand up, but her wobbly legs were going to give up at any second.

“Please!” Sarah cried out to the couple, her tears falling on her crying infant’s forehead, “Please, take him! Take my son! Take him and—”

Elwood and Belle sprinted over to Sarah to try and calm her down.

“Easy, ma’am!” Elwood said to her. “What’s going on?”

Sarah, filled with fear and rage, grabbed Elwood’s collar and looked him dead in the eye. With a flimsy, thunderous voice, she yelled, “He’s coming! He’s coming for me and my child! Please! Save him!”

Strong for too long, Sarah lowered her head onto Elwood’s shoulder and tried not to sob. Belle walked up to her and tapped her shoulder.

“Let me see him,” Belle said to her calmly.

Sarah presented her child to his mother-to-be. The shade of his red hair and green eyes matched his mother’s perfectly.

“He’s beautiful,” Belle said while reaching for him. Sarah instinctively almost pulled him back to her, but she stopped herself.

“I-I’m sorry,” Sarah apologized. “I just… I never thought this … that I…”

Belle put her hand on Sarah’s shoulder. “Tell him ‘I’ll see you later,’” she told the heroine.

“But he won’t!” Sarah reminded her, frustratedly. “I’m going to die! I know it!”

“That doesn’t mean,” Belle said, calmly, “that you won’t see him again.”

Belle’s warm smile and gentle words relaxed Sarah, even if it was only slightly. Sarah looked at her child, kissed his cheek, and with a shivering voice, said to him, “I’ll see you later, kiddo.” Then she handed her legacy into the hands of a complete stranger.

Before the couple could turn around, Sarah handed the box over to Elwood. “And this! He’s… he’s going to need this if…” she hesitated… “just, give it to him when he’s seventeen.” Sarah then turned to her infant son. The child’s crying died down as he saw the only mother he had known so far. Sarah smiled and said with a strange sort of confidence, “I’ll see you later, kiddo.” She kissed her son’s forehead and he giggled.

Sarah rose her eyes back up and looked her successor in the eye. “Thank you so much,” she said to Belle. “This… this is going to make a difference.”

Belle was about to ask what she meant, but the rising sound of helicopters a distance behind her cut her off. Sarah looked past Belle and with a horrified look in her eye demanded that the couple leave now. The new foster parents hopped into the truck and began driving away. They managed to avoid even seeing the helicopters.

The next time they saw Sarah, she was on the news, being executed by the mysterious stranger – her brother, it turned out – for “The murder of her mother, husband, and child.”

- Captain Icon: My Life as Legacy

#MeToo poem

Instead of a work of fiction Or writing about fantasy or addiction I chose to write about me instead. About something I thought was better left unsaid. They said I was confused, that I misunderstood Is this what it means to enter adulthood? It means we’re punished for being open? Or having to pretend we were just joking? I wasn’t a child, I was eighteen years old. Now I carry it, it comes back around, like the flu or a cold When it’s someone you know Someone you should be able to trust, where do you even go? We live in a world where men think being accused Is the same as being sexually abused. Where if a woman says something, she’s just lighting a fuse. But I’m starting a fire because I’m sick of living in hues of gray. I don’t want to sit back and pretend I didn’t lose something And then I turn on the tv and feel sick if I watch the news I see we live in a society where we teach girls to protect themselves We tell them to make sure he rapes a different girl, not you. One in three women they say, make sure it’s not you. And when we speak up, we’re told he won’t be punished. So why bother saying anything at all? We’re told we won’t be believed. Well not today, not for me. I’m tired of somedays, and maybe they’ll see. We live in a world where girls clothes are regulated To make sure it’s the boys who are educated. We tell our girls their cases won’t be advocated That boys will be boys, and their comfort is overrated. You’re homophobic because you don’t want To be treated the way you treat women And then you don’t want to be the villain Catcalling us on the streets But what if it was your daughter, your mother, your niece? Defending yourself, saying we can’t take a compliment And we have no choice but silence when you’re dominant. You walk down the street without a care But we worry we’ll be trapped in some nightmare Make sure it isn’t you. She’ll always be more drunk, showing more skin, be more alone And when you say nothing, you don’t even realize you condone it When you say she was drunk, it was her fault, You’re blaming a victim, letting him get away, And you’re saying it wasn’t really an assault You say if it was your daughter, you’d kill them Don’t you care what the other daughters will become? I won’t be silenced, Not in the face of this violence Not when a boy can rape a girl and get three months Where they can sit back and call us whores and cunts Not when he can ‘grab em by the pussy’ But if I say something, they’ll just shoot me down or call me pushy. I’m tired of meaning nothing I’m tired of them thinking touching Without permission is their given right Instead of something that is literally disgusting. This poem demands to be spoken, And I refuse to be broken

Untitled song (ideas welcome) ( original song by Rory)

Can feel the thunder in the floor

Running breathless for the door

House shaking, on its knees

World upside down lost in the breeze

Water pouring in the streets

Pounding feet, crushing heat

Chasing down a lost dream

Is this the last of me?

If you tear you're heart out

I'll give you mine

In the dark we stand and fight

Our lives intertwine

Welcome to a new age

Where families never stay

No one cares to try

We all know we're gonna die

Take me home! Make me whole!

Let me go somewhere I don't know!

I wanna go!

I wanna go home!

Jaded soul wall

breaking through all

The masks we wear today

Can some one say it's not ok

To leave this world behind

The blade along the line

Bodies crying out

What do we do now?

Save the lost and lead them to be found

Help them find the running ground

Then take me home! Make me whole!

I don't wanna feel so cold!

Wandering eyes! Finding lies!

Make it stop! I'm done!

I want to feel whole! Take me home!

Is where my heart belongs, with people who love me for all my wrongs

Take my hand, tell me I'm alright

Don't let me fade away into the night!

I'm trying to keep my peace of mind

Here's my hand, you'll be fine

Walk through the chaos with me

I promise one day I'll set us free

Fight the lies! Your worth my time!

Make them realize! You're worth a life!

Take me home, make me whole

Wish I could go

I not wanna know, what's down the road

I just wanna go

I wanna go

Home

~Rory

I'm experimenting with a new style of earring! Which pair do you like the best? Moon, sun, or butterfly? #handmadejewelry #handmade #handmadejewelryforsale #handmadejewelrydesigner #handmadebeadedjewelry #beadedjewelry #sunjewelry #sunearrings #moonjewelry #moonearrings #butterflyjewelry #butterflyearrings #chaimearrings #seekingfeedback #tellmewhatyouthink #sharefeedback #helpanartist #helpanartistout (at Ithaca, New York) https://www.instagram.com/p/CbAwDi4uT21/?utm_medium=tumblr

Keep ya loot... #fencemessage #graffiti #tellmewhatyouthink #etsetonpark #2022 #wintervibes❄️ (at E.T. Seton Park) https://www.instagram.com/p/Ca5hNfmOoAs/?utm_medium=tumblr

#rpl #crest #poloralphlauren #polofiend #tellmewhatyouthink https://www.instagram.com/p/BplEPByl7FY/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1xyyywig39wd5

Didn’t know what to do with last night #sample , should I continue with the #beat #tellmewhatyouthink - - #beats #beatsforsale #beatforsale #beatsforlease #newbeat #newbeats #samplingsoul #samplebeats #samplebeat #leasebeats #beats4sale #follow #hotbeats #firebeats #hardbeats #flstudio12 #maschine #beatmakingvideo #beatmaking #trapbeats #hiphopbeats #hiphopbeat #mcpmuzic #truthdefinitionstudio (at Bronx, New York) https://www.instagram.com/p/BpDODWbArnj/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1mb6wu6nypv0a

Felt cute might delete later 😉 #mirrorselfie #braids #pinkhair #tellmewhatyouthink (at Kelowna, British Columbia) https://www.instagram.com/p/CYHYs-rLhVL/?utm_medium=tumblr

I think you have a great smile

OMG … 🥺🥺🥺

… thank you Shades.

I am creating a book!

It’s called the Adventures of Alligator Bunny. 

It talks about a anthropomorphic boy bunny that live with two Alligators, earning him the name Alligator Bunny, he has two friends named Ivy, a grey fox, and Hopscotch, a fellow rabbit. The three go on an adventure to find what they believe is a magical dagger, but in the way Alligator Bunny gets kidnapped and it's up to his friends to save him!