🎃GUYS🎃GALS🎃NONBINARY🎃PALS🎃OF🎃EVERY🎃AGE🎃WOULDN'T🎃YOU🎃LIKE🎃TO🎃SEE🎃SOMETHING🎃STRANGE🎃COME🎃WITH🎃US🎃AND🎃YOU🎃WILL🎃SEE🎃THIS🎃OUR🎃TOWN🎃OF🎃HALLOWEEN🎃THIS🎃IS🎃HALLOWEEN🎃THIS🎃IS🎃HALLOWEEN🎃PUMPKINS🎃SCREAM🎃IN🎃THE🎃DEAD🎃OF🎃NIGHT🎃THIS🎃IS🎃HALLOWEEN🎃EVERYBODY🎃MAKE🎃A🎃SCENE🎃TRICK🎃OR🎃TREAT🎃TILL🎃THE🎃NEIGHBORS🎃GONNA🎃DIE🎃OF🎃FRIGHT🎃ITS🎃OUR🎃TOWN🎃EVERYBODY🎃SCREAM🎃IN🎃THIS🎃TOWN🎃OF🎃HALLOWEEN🎃

not to repeat myself again but imagine you’re helen pevensie and you send your children away to keep them safe from the war. you send them to the country to keep them alive, keep them children for as long as possible in a war like this.

and then you get them back, and suddenly it feels like you’ve invited war itself into your house. not in the literal sense, arguments now happen quietly and with composure no children should know how to wield. but somehow, whenever you look at them, you think about blood, about death, about enemies felled with weapons too fast for them to notice. it feels like you hugged a man in a trench when you welcomed your children back home.

you feel terrible, but it’s hard for you to be in a room with them all for long. you don’t want to shake war’s hand. war has torn your country apart, war keeps your husband away and in the middle of deadly danger. war should not be sitting in your living room, drinking your tea and eating your food. you’re afraid of war. you don’t want war in your home.

your children should not be the war you wished to keep them safe from.

less “if you see a man and woman together at pride be nice! they could be bi/pan/trans/ace/aro” and more “stop gendering strangers to harass them anywhere, but especially at pride holy shit”

sometimes i think about narnia and i vibrate out of my skin like...

you walk into a world you cannot understand, frozen and dying, and it is you who thaws it. you who kills the witch, you who breaks the stone table, you who slays the wolf. it is you who is crowned and it is you who wails for two worlds when the wardrobe doors shut behind you.

your skin never sits quite right and your teeth are too dull. there are wars in your bones and decades in your eyes before you can reach the telephone on the wall.

you are king. you are queen. they won't let you read the newspapers at breakfast.

it calls you back from beyond a train and from within paint. begs with bloody palms and salt-crusted cheeks. takes from you all that you can give - and sends you back.

you watch your sister fade.

you are a child twice and an adult once. and when you stand in your home again, with crushed bones and the smell of coal still in your nose, you watch them sneer at your sister.

your sister is the sun above you. she is, beautiful and stone-cast, alive in a world you could never stomach. she smiles, still, and stretches her skin over human bones.

she is no longer a friend of narnia. do you tell them it is her who has to bury you all and the stars that are falling from the skies in shards?

So, India is dying.

Look, I know a good number of you are from the US and things aren't amazing there either, but my country is literally on the brink of collapse. So I'd love it if we could talk about that for a minute.

If you can't do anything else, please just read and reblog.

A second COVID wave has taken out the healthcare system. There are no more hospital beds. There's an oxygen shortage. There's a critical vaccine shortage. The Central Government has thrown its hands up and is passing the baton to the State Governments to do what they can.

There are over 16 million covid cases. A record 330,000 new cases reported yesterday - comparable to the US at its peak. 187,000 dead as of today.

There is no plan.

Mass cremations are taking place. The cremation grounds are running day and night and they are short on wood. People are watching their loved ones die while waiting for a hospital bed, and then they're unable to give them the proper burial rights.

Hospitals are overwhelmed. Patients are being confined, two to a bed. They're the lucky ones.

We are on the verge of people dying in the streets.

This is the second-most populous country in the world. The largest democracy. A country that encapsulates over 15,000 years of recorded human history and has endured everything from famine to invasion to colonisation.

We might be at the end. This might be the thing that does us in.

People are dying.

People are dying.

People are dying and there is no plan.

More good news? Variants are popping up. A double mutation strain has shown up. It is resistant to current vaccines. This will not go away. This is the devastation they warned of when the anti-maskers were out protesting the minor inconvenience of covering their face in public.

My country is on the verge of an emergency state. Our government has failed us. This is as dire a situation as it ever could be.

Look. I don't do much with my life. I write fics, some of you have read them and that's pretty much it. I spend my days with my head in the clouds because that's where I like to be.

But two days ago, my grandmother tested positive, had to be taken to hospital and the ambulance caught fire.

She barely made it to the urgent care she needs.

So, here I am, using whatever meager platform I have to cobble this request together. Because I have to do something.

If you can, donate.

Or spread the word.

Help. Please.

Some new sigil designs that will be avaliable on the 30th

THIS IS IMPORTANT

I love these neat little mushrooms...

*slides in* *whispers* Keanu Reeves as a water silo... *skitters away*

moon after moon after moon~victoria pettella

🍊 The Orange by Wendy Cope

🌅 Illustrated by Peeta Mellark