sophiacore

[sophiacore]

every weekend i’m like AHH i should write another ioup article and every week i get it done. go me

[sophiacore]

queueing posts on wordpress has me feeling like my brain is melting as i try to do basic math on the calendar. noon it is

[sophiacore]

the way that theodore is canonically an oc of mine who i made at like age sixteen on the premise of “what if i made atticus finch but like... sexy” and people consistently telling me he reminds them of daredevil is so-

[sophiacore]

There are only old bones, here in the desert. There is only an aching wound of split scar tissue.

On Goliaths and Endurance, I.O.U.P.

[sophiacore]

Only photographs are carried away, as souvenirs of this foray. To possess it would be to destroy the very reason for wanting to hold it in the first place.

On Goliaths and Endurance, I.O.U.P.

[sophiacore]

The shape of her grief remains nameless. She tosses and turns, dark hair damp with sweat.

On Goliaths and Endurance, I.O.U.P.

[sophiacore]

I can reinvent her in whatever image I please. There’s a distinct pleasure, in that.

On Goliaths and Endurance, I.O.U.P.

[sophiacore]

That sharp, sweet pain of unreciprocated want. We both have a habit of falling in love with the unattainable.

On Goliaths and Endurance, I.O.U.P.

[sophiacore]

carmilla still confirmed the absolute worst villain, dreamgirl of my heart <3

[sophiacore]

She didn’t ask for help. I didn’t offer it. She wouldn’t have accepted it. Some things need to be done on your lonesome. She seems content enough to have me standing silent sentry, scrutinizing her every move.

On Goliaths and Endurance, I.O.U.P.

[sophiacore]

The ground swallows them greedily, hungry for any wetness it can lay claim to. For the briefest of moments, saltwater glimmers on the surface of the land.

On Goliaths and Endurance, I.O.U.P.

[sophiacore]

There is none of that here- an aching absence. Only the infinite sky sits overhead. The horizon stretches ever onwards.

On Goliaths and Endurance, I.O.U.P.

[sophiacore]

cannot stop thinking about how one of my peers in the university server said that theodores scars looking like the prettiest organic lighting she’d ever seen......... girls are so blessed

[sophiacore]

girls be like (loudly and annoyingly broadcasts their love for their friends via the medium of discord statues AND slaps a wordcount in there to keep themselves subtly accountable.) i’m girls

[sophiacore]

a repaint of theodore... as a treat!

[sophiacore]

There’s the flick of a zippo being swung open- and he’s lighting a cigarette. Blue tinged clouds billow around his head, as he exhales, smoke wreathing around him like a halo. The dying sun’s last embers catch it- and for a second, Émile looks like he’s caught aflame. Iconoclast, I think. Not of him- but the fiery light engulfing his head. The sun shifts in the sky. The illusion is disrupted. He is only a man, smoking, once more.

On Sweet Vermouth, I.O.U.P.

[sophiacore]

aka: a compilation of carmilla & santiago moments that has me losing my goddamn mind