white poplar

[ ooc ];; wow so like I said before, I lost my original blog (@kkochmal) and that is very tragic but let’s do a quick self-promo to follow more people again, huh?  

Please reblog/like/follow if you would be interested in interacting with a fandomless oc who is a innkeeper of sorts in a fictional city of Hwen. She may have a bit of a temper but she’ll make sure you have a good bed and food to eat first. I’m willing to interact with any and all fandoms so feel free to hit me up and I’ll definitely check you out. Thanks !! 

[ ooc ];; it’s been 84 years….  Okay so officially I moved everything that I could from @kkochmal (may that blog rest in peace) and now I just got to wait for… people to follow this blog instead (WHICH may take a while because … tumblr is shitty and doesn’t show new blogs in tags or anything until days later :^/ and i still had shit queue’d up on kkochmal which….. may not run out until 15 days later? I had at least 30 posts queue’d up so fuck me–) But that’s beside the point. 

So I do have some notes on basically how I’m working this blog! 

  • For thread replies I already did on @kkochmal: Please look at this sideblog because that’s where I moved it to.
  • I even remade my nsfw blog look at that. 
  • I queue’d up as much headcanon stuff and aesthetic stuff to put on this blog. And I will continue to be replying to the threads I initially started on my old blog! None of that will be changing. 

The whole process was…. kind of time consuming and tiring so bear with me! 


He vuelto a ver los álamos dorados,

álamos del camino en la ribera

del Duero, entre San Polo y San Saturio,

tras las murallas viejas

de Soria—barbacana

hacia Aragón, en castellana tierra—.

Estos chopos del río, que acompañan

con el sonido de sus hojas secas

el son del agua cuando el viento sopla,

tienen en sus cortezas

grabadas iniciales que son nombres

de enamorados, cifras que son fechas.

¡Álamos del amor, que ayer tuvisteis

de ruiseñores vuestras ramas llenas;

álamos que seréis mañana liras

del viento perfumado en primavera;

álamos del amor cerca del agua

que corre y pasa y sueña,

álamos de las márgenes del Duero,

conmigo vais, mi corazón os lleva!

Antonio Machado

“Campos de Soria”