The truth is, life is nothing more than a series of beginnings and endings. | 2000 | Asexual | @timetomakeanewdream on AO3 | I sent you lots of love and hugs |
my friend just told me that there's a secret second dashboard that solely contains posts from people you've turned on post notifications for, and when i click the link in the messages it opens it within the tumblr app, so the tumblr app also has a secret second dashboard for post notification blogs, and the only way to access it is to open the link for it within the app.
i literally love tumblr
we all know how smitten fool’s errand-era beloved was but fool’s errand-era fitz was also feral. like idk if my bff:
i might think that perhaps there was a chance my feelings were not 100% unrequited
found this in one of the news articles
I can’t decide whether seven bushmaster bites means you should stay away from bushmasters or declare yourself bushmaster king
Out of curiosity, I looked this up to verify the details. The name of the establishment was the Cape Fear Serpentarium and this tale is everything promised.
So the owner’s name was Dean Ripa, and he died in May 2017. His wife, Regina Ripa, was found to be unable to distinguish right from wrong at the time of the murder, was ruled not guilty by reason of insanity, and was committed to a psychiatric care facility instead of being convicted. In real life, this is an extremely rare ruling, and from what I read, she had a history of instability where she suffered from delusions and paranoia. When law enforcement had come out to the residence earlier that day because of a call she made, Dean, her husband, did in fact tell the officers she was genuinely unwell and needed to take her medication.
Their child was, at the time, three, and was unharmed in the incident. As the child was the rightful owner of Dean Ripa’s estate, the Serpentarium was unable to remain open legally. Being a child, they were unable to legally hold the necessary permits for the snakes their father had on the premises. A family friend had attempted to keep it going, but it looks like it was legally too complicated.
There was an article written about the site and Dean Ripa himself in the Oxford American that was posted posthumously. It provides a lot of detail and background on Dean Ripa, who was, to put it mildly, an intense man.
There are pictures on Trip Advisor of the exhibits.
I got carried away with Qifreys hair, but I like it, so it's ok (*´∇｀)ﾉ
Full piece below
“i don’t remember it but i’ll correct you when you incorrectly recount it” Ok Fitzchivalry
it's been discussed extensively already but I really cant recover from "if I knew what I was, if I knew that I was never meant to be saved, I would've stayed far away from you, the sky's kindest, most radiant star" ever
I love you. you're the best there is, the best there ever will be. you're the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I'm the worst thing that has ever happened to you. ("you have a gentle soul. that's why you chose to forgive me yet again." i wish you wouldn't. i wish you'd see the way others saw me, a freak, an outsider, a hopeless thing that could never become a witch. i wish you never had to forgive me, i wish you were safe from me. but please don't leave me)
the witch who fell for the silverwood. i'd give all of me up for you the way you've given all of yourself up for me.
a poem once said a heavenly messenger descended from his home in the sky and the stars. ("when I grow up, this is the kind of place I want to live. not in the ocean, but here under the sky, where land stretches into the horizon, where wind travels far, and stars are free to shine as bright as they want." I want you to shine forever, to always guide me, and when you do, let it be in the open air, where the wind sways my leaves and branches and roots as they grow far and wide and reach towards you. always towards you. you've always been good to me. you would shine there for me. let me be selfish, let me have this, cruel as it is to you)
and the messenger gave something kind and warm to the silverwood who never had it. ("there's such kindness in your magic" always a part given to me, a walking corpse found dead and freezing in an unmarked grave and coffin, empty and nameless. the chill never left. your warmth is the only one i've ever felt, ever known. i was never meant to live, thank you for letting me pretend that the warmth meant i was alive)
I want to be happy. you make me happy. I cant imagine a life without you, even if you would be better off without me. I love you.
must feel good as fuck to curse a prince for being rude to you while you were larping as an old woman for no reason
... you know. If I could transform into someone a CEO is ethically obligated to help and then punish them for failing to do so, in such a way that they can only be accepted into society again if they learn basic moral lessons about decency, I don't think I would do anything else ever again.
something that really gets me about fitzchivalry farseer is he is torn between an ordinary life and the noble extraordinary main character life of a traditional fantasy protagonist. his name is keppet. his name is fitzchivalry farseer. he wants to get married and settle down in an ordinary town with an ordinary candlemaker. the great loves of his life are a prophet who’s trying to save the world and a wolf he can telepathically communicate with. he wants to be a scribe. he’s a royal assassin who kills important people to preserve the monarchy. he wants so badly to be ordinary but he cannot be because he is the royal bastard and he is the catalyst and he is responsible for changing the world
