Nikita Gill, Night Songs To Aphrodite

Am I an agnostic young woman in the twenty first century who has plenty of real life things to accomplish? Yes, yes I am.

Have I nonetheless devoted an inordinate amount of time to memorizing the Lord’s Prayer in Proto-Celtic, Early Brythonic, and Old English? Yes, yes I have. 

Do I have regrets about this? Not as many as I should. The ability to scream holy Celtic verses from memory in open fields is terribly under-appreciated in this society.

I taste the moon on your lips

Feel the stars in your teeth

Hear the howl of the wind in your voice when you wisper

See galaxies in your eyes

Savour the silk of your skin

Sense the frost on your breath

And know you're all the wonders come together.

Architectural decay portrayed in art pieces

‘Roman Ruins’ by Hubert Robert, 1760

‘Capriccio of Classical Ruins’ by Giovanni Paolo Panini, 1725 and 1730

‘Landscape with Classical Ruins and Figures’ by Marco and Sebastiano Ricci, 1725-1730

‘Ruins in Baalbek’ bu Jules Louis Coignet, 1846

‘Gothic Church Ruin’ by Carl Blechen, 1829-1831

‘The Ruins of Holyrood Chapel’ by Louis Daguerre, 1824

‘Christ and Adulteress’ by Ascanio Luciano, 1669

‘Detail of View of the Arch of Constantine with the Colosseum’ by Canaletto, 1742-1745

‘Ruins of the Palace’ by Ramon Martí Alsina, 1859

Why haven't i been told about emily dickinson sooner??? you mean to tell me i went all this time without knowing about the poet who literally wrote love poems to her sappic love?? how? is this story not famous? have i just completely missed it. well no longer, from this point on there will be much more emily dickinson in my life

“My father knows. My house knows. Every person in this building knows who I spend my nights with and why.”

I'm her secret she keeps hidden and she is my story that i want to tell

“Beatrice, look at this!” Ava holds up a hat for her to inspect. It’s a hat, navy blue, with the words ‘Women want me, fish fear me’ sewn neatly across the front of it. Beatrice bites back the smile that threatens to spread across her face.

“That certainly fits you,” she says, because it does.

“Look, I found one for you, too,” Ava says, digging around in a pile of similar-looking hats. She pulls another one out, this one a dark red color and slightly more raggedy than the first, and Beatrice squints to read the worn text sewn across the top.

‘Cooler than you,’ it reads, with a cartoonish printing of a pair of sunglasses directly underneath. The smile tugs at her mouth again and this time Beatrice isn’t able to smother it completely. Ava looks entirely too pleased about that.

Beatrice says, charmed against her will, “I’m not too sure that’s my style.”

/ /

OR:

The Ensemble RoadTrip AU

Want to buy beautiful hard copies of my favorite books, annotate the shit out of it, fill it with sticky notes and letter and then give it to that one person.

the absolute fucking height of comedy is scientists and scholars getting into fights over incredibly niche subjects. the idea of nerds in labcoats and suits getting close to blows over something that only like 20 people care about is so funny. 

Victoria Aveyard writing War Storm: