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Literature
Susan
Lipsticks and boys,
Things you wanted,
And I wanted too,
Bright red on my lips,
And boys carrying my books for me.
Sinner, sinner,
They cry,
And I shake my head,
And refuse to read your last book,
Because I hear enough of that.
Red lipstick,
High heels,
And tight dresses
litter my room.
I’m not worse than
Abusers, bigots,  
And rapists,
Just because I wear red on my lips,
Instead of leaving it behind on the ground.
It doesn't matter if they’re ‘good people’
And they say I’m not,
the same way the last book doesn't matter, 
because we make our own ends for you and me. 
:iconLadyBrookeCelebwen:LadyBrookeCelebwen
:iconladybrookecelebwen:LadyBrookeCelebwen 1 1
Literature
Stoned Propaganda
“Clearly, this represents a form of religious thought at the time,” she said, waving one hand at him while holding the artifact and paging through it with her others. “The few documents we have found and translated suggest that ‘I’m so stoned’ became a widespread expression roughly concurrently, suggesting a community.”
“Or it could be a form of subliminal propaganda by which the Stone Culture took over its competitors,” her companion said.
“There is no evidence to suggest that they had any form of subliminal messaging that could take over entire cultures.”
“The time frame for the spread of the culture-”
“The speed of the culture’s spread is in line with existing cultural spreads. Not everything has to rely on hidden forms of mind control, no matter what rumors and lies are spread about how cultures spread.”
:iconLadyBrookeCelebwen:LadyBrookeCelebwen
:iconladybrookecelebwen:LadyBrookeCelebwen 4 3
Literature
Flash Fiction Day 2017
1. Nobody
She never felt like going outside anymore.
Lethargy was her only company, seeping into her bones and imposing isolation from any other comforts.
She knew she wasn’t always like this, that once upon a time she had danced and partied and done everything a girl of her age was supposed to.
Now she just laid in this bed and stared at the walls, wishing for death or energy, and waited for someone to come find her.
Nobody ever came for her, and she wondered if she would find the energy to go look for them or if this was it.  
2. Why?
“I don’t want to be here.” She looked at her mother. “Why did you make me come?”
“Because you’re supposed to show up to this, sweetheart. He was your husband.”
“Exactly, he was my husband. Was, because he’s dead and he’s lying in that box up there, and nothing changes if I’m here or not.” Everyone turned to stare at her, but she just kept screaming. &
:iconLadyBrookeCelebwen:LadyBrookeCelebwen
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Literature
To My Favorite Characters: A Poetry Anthology
I. Violet
Paint, child,
In shades of purple
That bring to mind violets,
The kinds you photograph,
And your name.  
I have a cat that shares a name with yours,
Though I had forgotten that,
And a cello that almost reminds me of your violin,
Though I don’t have your skill,
And I can only sew small things.
I fell in love with you long ago,
When you fell sick near the end of the book,
And I felt alone because I was often sick too.
I missed weeks of school but existed in your world,
Friendless but for fictional characters.  

II. Nancy

Meningitis and mysteries,
The latter solved much quicker than the first,
Though I wondered if the pain left behind by them
Lingered like sharp pains in their bodies,
Dead relatives and lost friends,
Reunited but betrayed,
Or if they vanished like these pains never do.
You’ve been reinvented more times than I have,
The perks of having authors not decisions,
And freedom from the constraints of life,
But confined to the pages t
:iconLadyBrookeCelebwen:LadyBrookeCelebwen
:iconladybrookecelebwen:LadyBrookeCelebwen 8 7
Literature
Mother
Mother had always said that she knew exactly what was going to happen to her, long before it actually happened.
Father told her that was impossible, but she insisted she was right.
I didn’t want to choose, but they were always arguing so loudly, that eventually I agreed with Father and told her that she was being silly, there was no way that she could tell what was about to happen.
I regret that now.
Perhaps if I had listened with her, she could have told me how to deal with all of this knowledge. I have no idea what to do, or who to believe. I don’t even know if I really know that these things are happening, or if I believe they’re going to happen so they end up happening. Maybe if I hadn’t believed my wife was going to leave me, I wouldn’t have driven her away.
Mother left Father before he could be driven away. I was left behind too, as she left the house screaming at him that she wasn’t going to put up with being called a liar.
Nobody ever saw her
:iconLadyBrookeCelebwen:LadyBrookeCelebwen
:iconladybrookecelebwen:LadyBrookeCelebwen 2 1
Literature
What is a Fangorn?
“The trees here move and talk.” Aegnor burst through the door, barely avoiding ending up on the floor.
Finrod looked up. “What?”
“The trees – or at least one of them, I don’t know, I didn’t stick around to see if all of them would start – they move. And talk.”
Finrod stared at his brother. “Trees do not move and talk, even in Doriath.”
“I am telling you, there was a tree and Angrod started to lean against it, and it greeted him as ‘nephew of Elu’,” Aegnor said. “I am not making this up, I did not imagine it, there are really talking tree.”
Celeborn popped his head in the door before Finrod could respond. “May I ask what all the yelling is about?”
“Nothing, my brother just has a overactive imagination,” Finrod said.
“Overactive imagination? There was a tree and it was talking.”
“Trees do not-” Finrod started to say.
“Oh, you mu
:iconLadyBrookeCelebwen:LadyBrookeCelebwen
:iconladybrookecelebwen:LadyBrookeCelebwen 1 2
Literature
The Charming One
“Maglor was always good at convincing people to do what he wanted. He just oozed charm, you know, in that way that none of us could ever hope to match, but that we knew would only help us because he knew that for him to succeed, the rest of us would have to as well.”
- Celegorm
The Tirion Times
Sixth Age 141
“Turko! Why would you do something like that?” Maglor snapped. “We can’t afford for you to just be running around, doing whatever you want to do, as though your actions won’t affect the rest of us. Can’t you see that now we have no chance of convincing any of them to join us?”
“They weren’t going to join us anyways,” Celegorm said. “Moryo offended them last week.”
Maglor rolled his eyes. “I’m surrounded by children! If any of you could just behave yourselves for once, we could be done with this, and that much closer to getting the Silmarils back. But
:iconLadyBrookeCelebwen:LadyBrookeCelebwen
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Literature
Weakness
Mama cried each time one of my younger siblings came up for review.  
I’m not sure how Mama herself passed the tests, given all those tears. I suppose she was pretty enough by the standards to make up for her failings in that particular part of the test. Still, it counted against me when it was time to marry. The best marriages were unavailable. They were afraid the weakness would pass through me.
John was the only one of my siblings who I can remember enough to tell you his weakness. He didn’t meet the education standards for his group, because he lagged behind in speech as an infant and then didn’t understand math quickly enough in 1st grade.
Intellectual weakness can damage all of us, and he had no outstanding scores in any other areas.
Father said that I was the only one of their children to meet the intellectual, physical, and emotional standards. He loved me because of that.
Mama tormented herself by loving us all before the tests. I have avoided that mista
:iconLadyBrookeCelebwen:LadyBrookeCelebwen
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Literature
The Study
“Hey, what’s wrong now?” Elizabeth turned from the sink to look at her girlfriend. “You’re acting strange. You haven’t even touched your food yet, and I made your favorites.”
Kate looked up. “Nothing’s wrong. I was just thinking.”
“Oh? Anything I can help with?” Elizabeth asked.
Kate took a bite of her cheeseburger and chewed it slowly, looking at the table. “Not really. I was just thinking about how sometimes there’s no good choice between doing something that you’ve worked your entire life to be able to do and love, and something else that just fell into your lap but you also love.”
“That second doing a person?” Elizabeth raised an eyebrow as she looked back.  
“I didn’t mean it like that.” Kate turned scarlet.
“You’re not denying that the second thing is me, though, love.” Elizabeth left the dishes in the sink and sat at the table, grab
:iconLadyBrookeCelebwen:LadyBrookeCelebwen
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Literature
The Last Free One
They say that all flowers spring as she passes and open if she glances upon them; and all birds sing at her coming. I don’t know if that’s true, I just know that she is the symbol of all that is good for any of us. We’re fighting to keep her free, the last free one in the entire world.
It counts as a revolution, if you ask us, revolt if you ask them. Funny how those two words can be applied differently towards the exact same actions.
Unicorns are useful to medical science. We all know this. But so are people, and we haven’t locked up every human with useful blood and drained them to nearly the point of death, even when they have a useful blood type. Why do we need every single unicorn to be in captivity? If we were just treating cancer and things like that, I could almost understand it. But we’re not. We’re making it so that anyone rich enough to be able to afford unicorn blood doesn’t even need to ever suffer a cold, while anyone who can
:iconLadyBrookeCelebwen:LadyBrookeCelebwen
:iconladybrookecelebwen:LadyBrookeCelebwen 1 4
Literature
A Body Cold and Dead
I fell into a rabbit hole and found Alice’s body cold and dead.  
A childhood isn’t supposed to be ruined like that, but I suppose mine was. I was one of those kids, the ones everyone wants to save but nobody actually wants their own kids to be around, because we’ll ruin them just by being too near, because poverty and mental illness are infectious, didn’t you know?
I tried for a while to avoid that by becoming an expert in everything that was necessary to pass as normal. Literature, clothes, science, culture, all of it was learned and bent to my needs. I wanted to fit in and I did.
But the world catches on to that after you’re an adult. You can fake things, but there’s more that has to be faked, and it’s hard to learn enough to pass yourself off as normal.
Alice fell through the looking glass and into a hole, and found a world that she didn’t fit in.
That story always ends with a body cold and dead.
I suppose Alice and I will be the
:iconLadyBrookeCelebwen:LadyBrookeCelebwen
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Literature
Rub Your Eyes and See the World
It’s not the real world you see when your eyes are like this.  
There are shapes dancing around, darting forwards, knocking things over. Other shapes cause light to burst forth, while still others fade away into shadows.
You enjoy seeing all of this, for all that it’s not the real world.
You stop rubbing your eyes, and the images fade until the normal zigzags and spirals return.
You can’t help but think that the world would be overwhelming if you always had to see everything.
:iconLadyBrookeCelebwen:LadyBrookeCelebwen
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Literature
A Fake Child
This isn’t her child. Her child wouldn’t make her do this to him, wouldn’t make her hold him in the water and then strike him with iron to prove that he isn’t hers.  
He wouldn’t torture her like this.
He’s crying out now, but she has to do this. They can’t afford a fake child.
:iconLadyBrookeCelebwen:LadyBrookeCelebwen
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Mature content
Mother, Don't Kill Me :iconladybrookecelebwen:LadyBrookeCelebwen 0 0
Literature
Or Are You The Wife Of Michael Cleary?
They say we’re evil.
We're not.
Yes, I know, we’re not what our human parents wanted. We’re changelings, fairy folk left by our birth parents to our human parents without the human parents’ consent. That isn’t fair to the human parents, who are left to raise something they don’t think of as theirs.
But it’s not fair to us either. We’ve been poisoned and left to die, tortured, cast aside in the woods in the thought that our birth parents would just take us back, with no thought to the fact that if they could keep us or wanted us, we wouldn’t have been left with them in the first place. It still happens today, though they tend to be better about keeping it secret now, at least here.
No, we can’t just magic ourselves back either. A tiny bit of magic is instinctive, but the vast majority takes education to do right, which you’ll note being left with human parents tends to prohibit us from gaining.
We’ve turned to your
:iconLadyBrookeCelebwen:LadyBrookeCelebwen
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Literature
The Unhappy Part of After
They don’t tell you how unhappy the after part of “happily ever after” normally is.  
I was one of those girls, you know. And more than that, I know what happened to all of the others after our stories ended.
We’re closer to Bluebeard’s wives than an eternally adored princess free of sorrow. The twelve dancing princesses epitomized that – surely you didn’t think that all twelve of them were lucky enough to find husbands who would take care of them? The eldest, yes, because her husband needed her to keep the kingdom, though she always resented him for that. The others fell to beheadings and childbirth and everything you ever read about in your history books that queens suffer.
The Flower Queen’s daughter was never happy, to be torn between mother and husband, never to choose for herself. That was really all of us, I suppose, because choice isn’t something we get.
Belle married her prince, and they were happy until he died in the
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Wishlist

Lake Lights by 1darkstar1 Lake Lights :icon1darkstar1:1darkstar1 25 2 Bookworm by joifish Bookworm :iconjoifish:joifish 209 18 Kiki loves milk :mug: by trenchmaker Kiki loves milk :mug: :icontrenchmaker:trenchmaker 2,820 127 Koshuna Loves Coffee :mug: by trenchmaker Koshuna Loves Coffee :mug: :icontrenchmaker:trenchmaker 5,199 272 Tumble loves chocolate by trenchmaker Tumble loves chocolate :icontrenchmaker:trenchmaker 2,797 197 Bao loves tea :mug: by trenchmaker Bao loves tea :mug: :icontrenchmaker:trenchmaker 3,871 186 A Never Ending Fairytale by La-Chapeliere-Folle A Never Ending Fairytale :iconla-chapeliere-folle:La-Chapeliere-Folle 3,589 319 Hidden Amongst the Stars by lithriel Hidden Amongst the Stars :iconlithriel:lithriel 1,533 73

Activity


Lipsticks and boys,
Things you wanted,
And I wanted too,
Bright red on my lips,
And boys carrying my books for me.

Sinner, sinner,
They cry,
And I shake my head,
And refuse to read your last book,
Because I hear enough of that.

Red lipstick,
High heels,
And tight dresses
litter my room.

I’m not worse than
Abusers, bigots,  
And rapists,
Just because I wear red on my lips,
Instead of leaving it behind on the ground.

It doesn't matter if they’re ‘good people’
And they say I’m not,
the same way the last book doesn't matter, 
because we make our own ends for you and me. 

Susan
Originally written for the poetry anthology contest a bit ago, now in single form for thumbnail purposes. :) 
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“Clearly, this represents a form of religious thought at the time,” she said, waving one hand at him while holding the artifact and paging through it with her others. “The few documents we have found and translated suggest that ‘I’m so stoned’ became a widespread expression roughly concurrently, suggesting a community.”

“Or it could be a form of subliminal propaganda by which the Stone Culture took over its competitors,” her companion said.

“There is no evidence to suggest that they had any form of subliminal messaging that could take over entire cultures.”

“The time frame for the spread of the culture-”

“The speed of the culture’s spread is in line with existing cultural spreads. Not everything has to rely on hidden forms of mind control, no matter what rumors and lies are spread about how cultures spread.”

Stoned Propaganda
Written for FFM 2017, Day 1, Challenge. The challenge was to follow the path and then do whatever the path said we should - thankfully, my habit of selecting things that align with my other interests led to one I could write. :lol: From comments.deviantart.com/1/5486… by C-A-Harland , I had to write a story about an archaeologist discovering an artifact that is not a form of technology, include a conspiracy, and do it in under 350 words. This is 137 words, the artifact was a copy of the first Harry Potter book, and the second character is pushing a conspiracy theory about subliminal mind control (alien archaeologist's version of "ALIENS DID IT"). Also, they're both aliens, as hinted in the fact that she has more than two hands. 

...and yes, they're badly off. It's a common problem if you're not careful in how you tie together your evidence. 

And yes, this is basically continuing last year's theme of "Anthropologists in everything". I'm still not in grad school, and I'm still regretting that fact. 
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1. Nobody

She never felt like going outside anymore.

Lethargy was her only company, seeping into her bones and imposing isolation from any other comforts.

She knew she wasn’t always like this, that once upon a time she had danced and partied and done everything a girl of her age was supposed to.

Now she just laid in this bed and stared at the walls, wishing for death or energy, and waited for someone to come find her.

Nobody ever came for her, and she wondered if she would find the energy to go look for them or if this was it.  

2. Why?

“I don’t want to be here.” She looked at her mother. “Why did you make me come?”

“Because you’re supposed to show up to this, sweetheart. He was your husband.”

“Exactly, he was my husband. Was, because he’s dead and he’s lying in that box up there, and nothing changes if I’m here or not.” Everyone turned to stare at her, but she just kept screaming. “I don’t want to be here, unless he’s going to sit back up, and he’s not. So why did you make me come?”

Her mother stared at her, until she stormed out of the church crying.

3. Magic
The potion fizzed when he spilled his drink in it.

“Oops.”

“What did you do?” His sister appeared in the room, carefully out of the path of any explosions.

He looked back down at his potion. “I spilled an energy drink in a sleeping potion?”

“You are an idiot,” she said and disappeared from the room before he could answer.

He looked at his empty can and then the cauldron.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” He shrugged and took a sip, hoping it would have some of the energy drink still in it.

Poof!

A cat sat in the chair.  

Flash Fiction Day 2017
So today sucked for writing (especially since I got sick last night. The only bright sides were finding an Anthropology book in Portuguese and a wax seal set at the flea market).

Next year I will finish more than three stories.
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I. Violet

Paint, child,
In shades of purple
That bring to mind violets,
The kinds you photograph,
And your name.  

I have a cat that shares a name with yours,
Though I had forgotten that,
And a cello that almost reminds me of your violin,
Though I don’t have your skill,
And I can only sew small things.

I fell in love with you long ago,
When you fell sick near the end of the book,
And I felt alone because I was often sick too.
I missed weeks of school but existed in your world,
Friendless but for fictional characters.  


II. Nancy

Meningitis and mysteries,
The latter solved much quicker than the first,
Though I wondered if the pain left behind by them
Lingered like sharp pains in their bodies,
Dead relatives and lost friends,
Reunited but betrayed,
Or if they vanished like these pains never do.

You’ve been reinvented more times than I have,
The perks of having authors not decisions,
And freedom from the constraints of life,
But confined to the pages that exist now,
And unaware of what comes in those unwritten,
Though that’s not really that different from me,
Unsure of where to go from here.   

Do you have red hair or blonde,
And is he your boyfriend or is he not?
There are no answers that last.
Your mysteries change too,
Not the ones I had I childhood,
But new ones that live in a world
That could not have been seen back then.


III. Louise and Jean

Forgotten on the shelves
In a town that’s forgotten as well,
Where people live and die,
And nobody outside knows their names.  

I wanted to live your lives,
But not be forgotten by the world,
And exist outside those dusty shelves
in crumbling buildings rotting away.  

One day I’ll find your books again
And take them with me to another place,
Where none of us will be forgotten,
And we’ll live in a town that’s not falling away.  

 

IV. Penelope

Weave, weave,
A burial shroud for an old man,
And save yourself,
Because fights come in many forms,
Not just swords and battles.

Faithful may be a characteristic of yours,
But so is intelligence and cunning,
And nobody can make me forget them,
No matter how much faithfulness is cited,
Because that was not what saved you,
And I don’t want you to be defined in terms of just him.  

 

V. Addie

Journey farther than your father,
To save your sister.
In spite of the fear,
Not because of you lack it,
But because she is important,
And you must try
In spite of dragons and orges.

And maybe those don’t exist here,
But other things do,
More terrifying than orges,
Like siblings dying,
And I cried for you,
And hoped I’d never face them.

 

VI. Beth

Your needle grew too heavy,
And I put the book down,
Because it was too heavy for me to read.

But I returned to it,
Sobbing my way through your story,
And barely caring what happened next.   

The book still ends for me there,
With your needle and my tears,
Because none of the others mean as much.

 

VII. Leslie

You dreamed and dragged others in
And for once I wasn’t the only one crying,
Sitting in a class and reading the end,
Hoping nobody would see.  

I was older,
Brittle,
Expecting my favorites to die or suffer,
Because no one escapes.

But it still feels like a betrayal,
To read about a kid dying,
And be told that’s what makes good literature,
Like nothing mattered but your death.  


 

VIII. Luna

Upside down magazines,
Humdingers, nargles,
And heliopaths.

But also courage,
And loyalty,
And above all else,
Conviction and wit.

I wanted to be you,
Unafraid to be different,
Wearing what you wanted,
And saying what you believed in
Even when others mocked you.

I might not believe in moon frogs,
Or blibbering humdingers,
But there’s other beliefs that stand out here.

It took me books and years,
But now I speak sometimes.  


IX. Susan

Lipsticks and boys,
Things you wanted,
And I wanted too,
Bright red on my lips,
And boys carrying my books for me.

Sinner, sinner,
They cry,
And I shake my head,
And refuse to read your last book,
Because I hear enough of that.

Red lipstick,
High heels,
And tight dresses
litter my room.

I’m not worse than
Abusers, bigots, 
And rapists,
Just because I wear red on my lips,
Instead of leaving it behind on the ground.

It doesn't matter if they’re ‘good people’
And they say I’m not,
the same way the last book doesn't matter,
because we make our own ends for you and me.


X. Lavender

Rabbits,
Divination,
Gossip,
And clothes,
Harsh judgments,
And your relationship mocked.

I raged,
because Snape was redeemed,
And Bill was loved,
But you were mutilated in the books,
killed in the movies,
And not a word to be seen about your courage,
Only your gossip and boys.   



XI. Nimloth

There are no details to your character,
You exist almost as a name,
There to marry a king,
Be a niece,
And die.  

But there are hints of more,
Stories with your uncle,
With your husband,
And by yourself in the years before,
Because he was not born until after you,
And you were likely alive far longer than you knew him.  

So I draw your story in my mind,
Put it on a screen,
And share it with others,
Because you might not have any stories in books,
But that doesn’t mean I can’t give you some.  


XII. Faramir

Land and people above sword,
Bookworm, wizard’s pupil,
You reminded me of me.  

I needed that by that point,
Hundreds of pages from Lothlorien,
And wondering where I was supposed to be,
And why for people who were said to care,
There were no questions about goodness,
Except from a few
Who reminded me too much of growing up
And a group called a faceless enemy.

To My Favorite Characters: A Poetry Anthology
Written for MagicalJoey's poetry anthology contest, described in this journal fav.me/db2t0fd (and yes, the deadline says I'm technically late, but status update says I still have a bit. So yay, because I panicked on the last day and scrapped the previous poems).

Question to answer:
Why you chose to write on what you did?
Both the fact that it was one of the ideas I had that I really, really liked, and that I managed to actually write 12 poems about this! (The other idea I really, really liked was "Things I Have Loved (That Have Broken Me)", but I didn't make it to 12 poems. But I really like writing about some of my favorite characters and what the mean to me. You'll note that most of them are female and/or sickly and/or artistic. There's a pattern in characters I cared about and I wanted to write about them. 

What inspired you or what the setting/theme is (in case it isn't clear).
As mentioned above, some of my favorite characters, and how I feel about them/relate to them. To list them out,
I Violet - The Boxcar Children
II Nancy - Nancy Drew
III Louise and Jean - The Dana Girls
IV Penelope - The Odyssey
V Addie - The Two Princesses of Bamarre
VI Beth - Little Women
VII Leslie - Bridge to Terabithia
VIII Luna - Harry Potter
IX Susan  - Chronicles of Narnia
X Lavender - Harry Potter
XI Nimloth - Tolkien's Legendarium, mentioned in The Silmarillion
XII Faramir - Lord of the Rings

Some of these are paired in terms of content - Addie and Beth both deal with illnesses, Leslie and Luna with imagination and belief, Susan and Lavender with clothes, makeup, and boys, etc. That's why they're arranged that way instead of say chronologically by when I first read them or with the two Harry Potter poems side by side.
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Experiments in Model Magic, 1
I bought this earlier this week (I also have oven bake clay, but that requires more time than I have now).

I think this is going alright? It's at least visibly an opening rose, I think. Tray in the background is actually a really small coffee/brunch tray that I'm using as my clay work station.
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deviantID

LadyBrookeCelebwen's Profile Picture
LadyBrookeCelebwen
Genius lasts longer then beauty.
Artist | Hobbyist | Varied
United States
Currently, I am mainly involved in the literature and fanfic side of dA. I also dabble in jewelry making and photography.

In my real life, I am a university age student studying in the Social Sciences, with the aim of going to grad school and hopefully becoming a professor.

My icon is part of the Noldorin Icon Family by kittykatkanie

:squee: :iconepiccaring1::iconepiccaring2:
:iconvisanastasis: is a wonderful friend, and I'm so glad that she considers me one of hers. :D

Find me on FFN as BrookeofLorien, and various other places as LadyBrooke.

Custom box background by laxstar123/xcvi
Interests

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Seyfiori Featured By Owner May 11, 2017  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thank you for the watch! Btw congratulations, you're my first watcher! Cheeks [Gravity Falls] 
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Thanks for the watch! Love Love Love 
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:tighthug: <3 <3 <3
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awjay Featured By Owner Aug 26, 2016
Thank you so much for the faving
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