㋡🥀

Day three of posting my photography 📷

This is Thea! She was my leopard Gecko and a cutie

Day six of posting my photography 📷

Ostrich at Dartmoor Zoo, England.

Day sixteen of posting my photography 📷

Just a little photo taken of the river Barle with me standing on a cute little bridge in Exmoor National Park on holiday.

My Secret Santa for @glitterfayy , a little what-if Mav and Hangman had hit it off at the Hard Deck that first night ;)) I hope you like it!!

Happy Birthday @altered60/@kalee60

An unbeta'd start to Hangmav sequel for you today!

— 2018 —

“Oh no you don’t!” A familiar voice rings out, catching Jake’s attention from where Javy is trying to convince him to challenge one of their classmates at darts. 

In what seemed like a miraculous early Christmas present Jake is told he’s been recommended for TOPGUN, something he’d been chasing his whole career. Mav had looked at him with pride, but a shadow of sadness had also crossed his face, and this time Jake wasn’t going to let it go. 

Mav had finally opened up about something he’d held so close after all these years and he had told Jake about his best friend Goose. Jake had listened intently and held Mav as the long-held grief wracked his body, and an outpouring of emotion had Mav crying, the first time Jake had ever witnessed it. 

A bell rings out and a loud cheer erupts from the room even as Jake pushes closer, catching glimpses of the woman standing behind the bar. She turns, a wide smile gracing her face as she hands four bottles to an eager patron and Jake freezes.

Penny Benjamin. She looked as beautiful as the last time Jake had seen her. Jake wonders if he can escape out of here without her seeing him. But he quickly assesses the situation. Penny is behind the bar of what he’s told is the place to unwind. He’s going to see her again sooner or later, and maybe he should just get this over with and say hello.

While Jake has been considering this all in his mind, the crowd has gently moved him closer to the woman in question and when he looks up, he finds himself standing directly in her eyeline. She cocks her head to the side as she registers just who is in front of her, and then she’s yelling out to someone to cover her as she moves from the bar separating them making her way towards Jake.

Jake wonders if she knows that he and Mav are together, even as she closes the distance between them and pulls him into a warm hug. “Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?” She pulls back and grabs his arm, guiding him outside and away from the growing patrons.

Day two of posting my photography 📷

A Red Panda at Birmingham Wildlife Conservation Park in 2019! A warm sunny day and all of the animals were out enjoying the sunshine ☀️

Pretty-boy Vader

I’ve been wanting to do an art piece inspired by the wonderful art of @02png meaning something painterly, mostly grey scale and heavy with the contrast.

When I settled for sith yellow eyes as my colour to spice up the grey, I decided to add Vader’s armour, making this portrait of what he might have been if he’d not burnt on Mustafar.

if you feel it, chase it 🌪️

Melida/Daan: The Legend of Ben

Ben is among the oldest of all the young at 13.

At 13 he soothes the fevers of the littlest who have never had enough strength or food or love, he holds up buildings that should collapse and kill them all (yet he does not do so with his strength for he is scrawny like them, weak like them. He doesn’t even touch the wood) finds water sources that are impossible to see, shoots steady even when his hands shake (as if guided by something, as if he is not entirely himself but something other, something more).

He calls it the force, they call it Ben.

At 13 he becomes a legend.

Legends aren’t born, but made in the desperate tunnels full of dying children. They say he appeared one day from the sky, that when his elders left, he refused to. That he was not born on the bloody battlefields of hate, but that he stayed because he saw them, felt with them, heard their song. He stayed when the Jedi left.

The children see how he balanced Cersai and Nield (love and hate, peace and war, water and fire). They see how the three click into place, Melida and Daan and Other. They wonder if maybe there was always an empty spot between them, waiting to be filled. Wonder if that is how this war started. Wonder if between every Melida and every Daan there is a space for something Other.

No one remembers how the war started, only that it did. Maybe there used to be a third faction, maybe something other (something more, something Ben) and when it died or left there was nothing left to bridge the Melida and the Daan.

Ben is sure as the earth, light as the air (only because they cannot hear him cry at night). He is a contradiction. He says strange things and does the impossible. Sometimes he glows with something else (something more).

He is remembered as the one who stayed (no one will say where he went). He is remembered as the Other between all Melida and all Daan.

There is an empty seat in every house. An empty seat in the Trivumate, waiting to be filled. Outside historians call it the Absent Third Phenomena— they are not sure why it is (they do not want to dig deeper, dig into the bloody history, tear their secrets and traditions and culture from the rotting bodies of child soldiers. they do not want to know). In Melida/Daan there is a word that is untranslatable that describes it, A’Benui. It is sacred. It is told to every child too young to remember the sewers, told by every Young that was touched by Ben (his something other).

(The Melida-Daan don’t know this, but somewhere else in the galaxy Obi-Wan Kenobi leads his second army of child soldiers and wonders if he was meant for anything else. Wonders if they see the cracks and uncertainty and self loathing; the first ones hadn’t. He wonders if they would be ashamed of him now, fighting, bleeding, warring, killing even now. Wonders if he will ever know peace or if he will always be a false legend made from blood and tears and a need to believe.)

Well I may as well start my tumblr off with a bang!

The white top and trousers has me in a chokehold.

I think about it daily.

GLEN POWELL Bustle Magazine (Dec 15, 2023)