Get Your First Glimpse Of The Cover For Holly Black’s New Faerie Novel (coming January 2018) On Monday!

i love one (1) disaster wizard

reblog if you're gay, not gay, slightly gay, or if you just want to launch donald trump into a dying star

There should be more tales featuring selkies 😊

Forgetting the sea — detail from 'Cold Shore'

YOU CAN NOW ONLY ACCESS STUFF ON FF.NET THROUGH M.FANFICTION.NET - BACK UP YOUR STUFF NOW THE NORMAL URL NO LONGER EXISTS!!!

(Please reblog this so people who used the site can find out and copy their stories, reviews and important conversations before it is too late!)

Could Use a Lil Help...

An important update on me, Minions. I've been going through some stuff for a long time and could use some help. If you can donate, great, but sharing on other platforms is equally as helpful. Love you all so much.

https://www.gofundme.com/f/zs-journey-to-reclaim-freedom?utm_source=customer&utm_medium=copy_link&utm_campaign=p_lico%20share-sheet-first-launch

If the number you got is an even number, vote EVEN, and if its not, vote ODD. If you by some chance got zero, vote ZERO. I'm very curious if this will turn out how I suspect it to.

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              The yearly ritual began with a simple cup of coffee and the sunrise. Mornings were already feeling a little cooler. The woman breathed the salt air in deep and relaxed, almost meditating. The blue-jays in the nearby sycamore chased each other with a joyous freedom. She wondered if they could feel the change in the air too. Finally ready, she set her mug down and strolled across the deserted street. Her few year round neighbors were all still asleep or already off to work. Leaving her sneakers on the wooden fence, her toes felt sand for the first time in two months. A cool breeze played with her hair. The beach was welcoming her home. She made her way down the worn path that would soon be a memory. Her feet alone weren’t enough to fight off the inevitable build-up of sand. The drooping fence would soon be the only marker to the entrance. Coming over the last dune, she surveyed the unsanctified land. Under the scattered debris, the sand glowed yellow white. The city sent people out to clean the beach but there was always a lot of trash they missed. She didn’t really mind. In fact, there was pride in the growing bag of soda cans and hot dog wrappers she held. Halfway through, she had to shed the light sweater that she’d put on in hopes of it being cooler. It would be soon enough. Her patch of the beach wasn’t large, but it always seemed to attract the messiest people. She made sure to walk the whole thing. Reconsecrating it with her joy alone. It was only after erasing all evidence of the summer people, that she sank onto the warm sand. The ocean sparkled in the sun. Gulls dove into the surf and flew away with the small fish they’d caught. The tide rolled over her bare feet. She accepted the water’s blessing. This moment was what she’d been dreaming of. The ritual complete, she could finally relax. The silence wrapped around her like a blanket. She had only ventured here once during a seasonal siege. The noise had run her off before she could even touch the sand. There was no too loud radios or children playing to break the peace, now. Tomorrow, after the first swim of the season, she would bring her sketchbook and work on her newest masterpiece with her toes buried in the sand. The beach would be her’s until next summer’s invasion.

The Beach               The yearly ritual began with a simple cup of coffee and the sunrise. Mornings were already…

reblog to give a lesbian a cup of hot chocolate

Writing Prompt

A woman wakes from a coma thinking that she is in a different incarnation

I feel like writeblr people aren't sending asks to each other as much after that kerfuffle over whether asks need to be individual to a person's projects to count as "supporting" writeblr. Please reblog if you are happy to receive ANY asks, even if it's the same question other people get! I KNOW I AM!