#by god i get my poems done when it's still the day For Me. yeah it's past midnight yeah it still counts

[trickstersaint]

sunsets // april 2 2023

[3rachasdomesticbanana]

Road Not Taken | Bang Chan

Synopsis: When your parents tell you that you're to marry the mayors son, Seo Changbin, you're left with two choices. Do you take the easy and sure route with nothing but green grass or do you take the path that's a bit less predictable and rough?

Pairings: au Bang Chan x Female Reader

Content Includes: Fluff, Forbidden romance, Secret romance, Strict parents, A sexually suggestive moment, Runaway, Happy ending, The Notebook vibes, Rich girl x not so rich guy

•Short but sweet. wc 2k•

an: Inspired by the poem The road not taken by Robert Frost and Chan quoting the poem when he talked about yellow wood in the intro.

“Y/N are you listening? Your father is talking to you.” Your mom sighs and rolls her eyes. “Honestly, get your head out of the clouds. This is a great opportunity and Seo Changbin is a great catch. He's so handsome and strong. Not to mention he'll be mayor one day after his father. You'll be the mayor's wife y/n doesn't that sound wonderful?” She gushes, clasping her hands together happily looking lovingly at your dad, who was the governor.

What is this, some eighteenth century life you're living? Why do you have to marry some guy just because he's rich and smart? Yeah sure, Changbin is great, literally at everything but... You've known him since you were in preschool. Even went to the same prep school together too so you know just how amazing of a guy he is. He's just not your type. He's more of a big brother to you. The problem though, you've always done as you were told. Take up horseback riding even if you were terrified? Yep. Harp even if it made your fingers blister and bleed? Of course. So how could you possibly look your parents in the face and defy them? Your dad looks at you with such a proud expression that you feel like shit for even thinking about going against him.

“Yes.” Is all you can say because the false smile and enthusiasm you give, takes everything out of you.

“That's my princess. You make your mother and I so proud of you. Really, we're so lucky. Isn't that right Grace?” Your dad pats your mother's hand still looking at you and she nods in agreement.

“The luckiest.” She chimes in. “Now make sure not to be late for your piano lessons; your recital is next week.” waving a dismissing hand.

Her large wedding ring and perfectly manicured nails shine in the sunlight that spills through the multiple windows of the conservatory. Removing the white cloth from your lap and setting it onto the table next to your barely eaten lunch, you stand up and leave. The entire conversation replays repetitively in your mind that you don't see your little sister leaving her room and you bump into almost butting heads.

“Shit, I'm sorry sis. I didn't see you. You're not hurt are you?” You fuss over her and she slaps your hands away smiling.

“Jeez will you chill. I'm fine. Where's your head at though?” She questions you, crossing her petite arms over her chest. Her large eyes look up at you and you briefly think back to a few hours ago when you were that carefree. Hopefully she won't share your fate in a few years seeing as she's only four years younger than you.

“Mom and dad just dropped a bomb on me.” Sighing, you lean back against the perfectly decorated wall behind you. “I'm set to marry Seo Changbin.” You finish and your sister's eyes light up.

“Oh my god, no way?” She whispers and covers her mouth. “You're so lucky. I'd give my left ear to marry that man. Have you seen his arms?”

When she giggles you can't help but join in. Just like Changbin, her laugh is infectious. The two of you gossip about boys a little longer in the hallway before you reluctantly make your way to your room to quickly shower and change your clothes before your lessons. Piano lessons were not only important to your mom but even more important to you.

Chris Bang, your piano teacher and the love of your life, secretly for the past two years, makes the lessons worth every second of struggling over the piece you decided to play for your recital. River flows in you by Yiruma has been a favorite of yours since you were really little and because you've heard it so many times you thought it would be easy. It isn't, not even remotely. The increasing tempo is where you seem to struggle and Chris will often tell you “Don't fear a little accelerando baby.”

Seeing his face when you walk in erases all the stress from your body and mind. He's like a hard reset to your mental health. The way his eyes sparkle and even smile along with him, the two dimples perfectly placed on either side of his beautiful mouth and the enveloping scent of smokey vanilla that surrounds you when he pulls you in for a tight hug, it all chases away all the bad and heals you.

“There's my beautiful girl. Gosh, I missed you.” He greets you with open arms that go around your waist when you stroll into him. His lips leave feathery light kisses all over your face making you chuckle softly.

“I missed you too babe.” You happily reply and push his blonde hair back from his brow. In contrast to how heavy your heart felt earlier it feels lightweight now.

His lips find yours turning the sweet embrace into something more intimate. Inside the family library, it's the only space you two are never interrupted. No one, not even staff dare disturb your lessons, not after your mom fired the last person that did so. It was completely uncalled for, the poor guy only came in the room to dust while you were going through the notes and when you messed up your mother blamed him. Now it's a haven for you and Chris. The two of you have spent hours studying each other's body's more times than you've actually studied the music. Thank God that Chris is a good teacher, you're able to show off your progress if or whenever your mom decides to show interest. So when his hands move from your waist and grips your ass you don't stop him.

══════════════•✦♡✦•═════════════

“Well now that that part of the lesson is over, what do you say you show me what else your fingers can do?” Chris suggests playfully still breathing heavily above you with a cocky smirk.

“Oh my gosh,” you giggle and cover your face. “you're such a dork but I love you.”

The moment is blissful and if you could lay like this under him for eternity, you gladly would. Unfortunately though, the large black Steinway grand piano sits waiting for you because if your mom doesn't hear any playing she won't hesitate to barge in. So you two unreluctantly separate and get dressed, hands and lips refusing to stray away from each other for too long.

Sitting on the shiny black surface of the piano's bench, your fingers hover over the keys as you inhale deeply through your nose and then exhale slowly out your mouth. The pads of your fingertips lightly press down on the ivory keys in front of you and begin moving effortlessly. Your eyes close upon hearing the sad yet happy music you create. Due to how many times you've played this piece it's become second nature now but when the crescendo approaches you become more focused and tense up.

“Relax babes, you can do this.” Chris whispers in your ear and you breathe him in.

Your fingers move, gradually picking up speed feeling calm and at ease knowing Chris is behind you and believing in your abilities. The worst is over and the tempo slows, ending with a beautiful climax.

“See baby, I knew you could do it!” Chris cheers coming around from behind you to stand beside the instrument and look at you. “Woah woah what's the matter? What happened y/n, why are you crying?” He gently takes your face in his hands stroking your cheeks with his thumbs wiping away the tears that rapidly fall from your eyes.

With the day's news finally getting to you, you break down and tell him everything. About the arrangement and how you are terrified of disobeying your parents but most of all you tell him that the last thing you want to do is be with someone that isn't him. That thought alone fills you with dread and makes you sick to your stomach. Changbin is a good man but he isn't Chris and you could never love another man the way you love him. You're pulled into his strong arms as he consoles you, the soft singing coming from him soothes you until you're able to calm the sobs that wrack through you.

“It's okay baby girl. Don't be sad. I know that I may not have a lot...” He pauses and scoffs at himself, resting his chin on top of your head, still holding you tight. “Honestly the only thing I have a lot of, is the love that I have for you. So whatever path you decide to take I'll always love you.”

“After all this time I still get amazed at how perfect you are, Christopher.” You tell him, voice slightly muffled against his chest, followed by sniffling as you hold back fresh tears that threaten to spill by his words.

He chuckles and his body shakes lulling you like a newborn. Chris's actions and words only proves your point, how can you love someone other than him? There's no one that could possibly take his place, you know that. What you don't know is how you're going to let your family down and tell them that you won't be marrying Seo Changbin. How do you disappoint your parents in a way that won't entirely shatter their hearts to the point where they just cut you off or abandon you? They could never do that to you… could they? That night you replayed Chris's words in your head so much that you gave yourself a headache. Sitting up in bed, after having tossed and turned for a good three hours you ran through all possible scenarios.

If you chose the easy path and agreed to be with Changbin you were sure how your life would be. Exactly like your mother's life. As a rich wife with a simple, boring, predictable life full of other people who just care about money and social politics. You'd spend your days with other wives, expected to dress and act a certain way all while losing a part of yourself if not all. Choosing Chris however, things would be uncertain. You have no idea what the future could possibly hold for you both. There could be rough terrain along the way but you were certain that you would be happy. That you both would get through whatever life decided to throw at you. As long as love continued to bloom and grow like a well taken care of flower, you two would be okay.

Jumping out of bed you look at your phone and see it's just past 5am but it's now or never. Grabbing a backpack from the closet and emptying it of any forgotten items you shove some clothes and a few important items inside. Your heart races and mixed emotions flood through your chest. Fear, excitement, guilt, nervousness and sadness sit comfortably at the top of the iceberg that is you. You keep moving silently throughout your room though, making sure you've got everything that you need.

“Just in case.” You whisper outloud to yourself. ‘Just in case they don't let me come back.’ That thought sits heavy on your heart but it doesn't derail your plans. You've made up your mind.

You're not going to play it safe by marrying Changbin. You've been playing it safe all your life. The uncertainty of taking a path that not many would travel down is scary. All the ‘what ifs’. If you could take both paths some way you would but that's not possible. It's a risk but for love and for Chris, you'd gladly make this choice again. Glancing around the room one last time, a last minute thought springs to your mind and you walk over to your desk to write your parents and sister and note.

“Mom and Dad, please don't be too upset with me. I'm leaving with Chris. I love him and I just couldn't see myself doing as I'm told this time. I hope you can find it in your hearts to continue to love me just the same. If you allow me to, I'll be back someday soon. Sweet little sister go and get Changbin, yeah? He'd be lucky to have you as a wife instead of me anyway we both know that. I love you three. I won't be far but I also won't change my mind.”

With a satisfied sigh you fold the paper in half and set it on your pillow. Your palm lays flat on the surface and you silently say goodbye to the life you had always known for something grander. Love. As the sunrise casts a golden hue on the horizon, you run towards the woods with nothing but the clothes you're wearing and a backpack slung over your shoulder. The sounds of the wildlife waking up throughout the yellow wood around you sounds so beautiful and it keeps your feet moving. The small house fenced in just past the woods comes to view and you smile breathlessly.

Rapping your knuckles on the white painted wooden door you chew on your bottom lip and wait for Chris to open up. Curly, messy blond hair peeks through the crack in the door when he slowly opens it. Almost in unison when he realizes it's you visiting him this early, his sleepy eyes and the door widens.

“Y/n baby what are you doing here?” his eyes go from your face down to the backpack that you now clutched in your hand and he lets out a small gasp that lights you up. “You really chose me?” His voice sounds so small like he can't believe it.

“Yes, I did. How could I not?” you give him a lopsided grin and wink playfully.

He grabs you in his arms and kisses your lips over and over, pecking them with a huge grin on his face. Setting you down, looking down into your eyes with so much love and longing he tells you that he'll make it his life's mission to make you happy every day and to not only tell you but show you just how much he loves you. You could feel your heart swelling from his words and your emotions bubbling up inside. Didn't he know he made you happy everyday already?

Setting your hand into his and interlocking your fingers you look up at him and sweetly smile. “No matter what storms we encounter, I'll always be there holding my hand out to you. I'll never regret the path I've decided to take at your side. I made a choice for love and that will make all the difference.”

The End.

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Sidenote: I wanted to end this the same way the poem ended so there won't be a part 2. Just know they lived happily ever after.

Her sister married Binnie and her parents eventually got the stick out of their asses and were cool with her living her best life as Mrs. Y/N Bang lol ♡ if you've never read the poem or listened to the track Road Not Taken from skz's Yellow Wood album I definitely recommend both.

[sadstrever]

i’m still 114lbs. i feel sick. yesterday was an awful day, i came home and had an out of body chew and spit session. i wish there was more research on this part of ed’s, or just more people who talked about it because i can’t be alone in this. i refuse to believe i’m the only sick person who does disgusting shit like this. anyways the reason why i call it an out of body experience is because it’s almost like binging-just without all the swallowing of food. i came home and immediately started doing it and filled up 1 and 1/2 2 liter bottles with food. i spent 5 hours doing this without even realizing and pretty much emptied out my whole families fridge. the guilt i felt afterwards was worse than a binge in my opinion. not only did i totally waste SO MUCH food, make a huge mess, ended up with disgusting bottles of mush in my room, i also have to face the consequences of my family coming home to an empty fridge. but when they got home they were happy that i “ate.” god i’m such a fucking piece of shit.

anyways after all that i took 4 laxatives to try and get the guilt of wasting the food out of me. i woke up in the morning today in terrible pain but still had to go to class, cuz what am i supposed to tell my parents? “yeah i haven’t eaten in almost a month and basically just threw all the food we have out in the trash and i also took 4 laxatives, can i please stay home tehe?” so i went to 1 class and ended up leaving because the pain was so excruciating. straight from class i went to the gym and somehow burnt 900 calories because i guess that’s what guilt does to me. i had to take the bus 2 hours home afterwards(bus delays and i went to a new further gym location this time), high out of my mind. i’m home now and my stomach hurts but the laxatives finally did their job. i don’t want to keep doing this. 4 years ago i said i’d recover and then i didn’t. since then i’ve forgotten about recovery (with the exception of a few random moments here and there that i block out immediately), i am so used to living in this fucking misery that i didn’t realize how abnormal my reality is. i don’t want to be a bad person anymore. but i can’t stop lol.

this is what bothers me about the girls who romanticize this disorder SO MUCH, when much of the time they haven’t realized how difficult it can become. i know i’ve done this, even now sometimes as a coping mechanism. but man, i’m sick of it.

i have a friend who writes poetry and she wrote a poem about eating disorders that make me so fucking angry. the thing is, i’ve known her for years and she’s always had the best relationship with food out of most of the people i know. she’s naturally pretty thin(not too thin but normal) and she’s very open about her struggles. i know every single one of her stories, i know she’s diagnosed with adhd. that’s HER disorder, that i don’t understand so i DONT write fucking POETRY about it. a few months ago she kind of forced me into opening up about my eating disorder. after i did, suddenly she started writing these stories about her eating disorder-very very very suspiciously similar to mine. i obviously didn’t tell her everything but i told her about how long this has been going on and just my emotions about it. seeing her start to adapt my fucking disorder into her poetry disgusted me. she glamorized the fuck out of it and made me feel so stupid for ever opening up about it. she’s naturally skinny so she got a bunch of support from our friend group from it and i’m just upset man. i’m sick of living in misery while other people can use the idea of living in pain for attention.

i promised my best friend that in 3 weeks i’ll go back to therapy and try my best to recover. it’s not true. man it’s never fucking true. it’s never fucking over. unlike ms.deep-poetry-girl i can’t just fucking write this and log off and then eat a good warm meal and talk to my parents without them mentioning my body. i can’t wake up tomorrow morning and hug them without worrying that they’re gonna feel my bones. i can’t wear shorts anymore without people noticing the bruises. i can’t go to school and keep my focus because i have nothing to feed my brain. i can’t let anyone get close because soon enough they’ll be just like YOU. OR they’ll hate me for not wanting to get better. i can’t love myself like you do because of the disgusting things i do each day. i can’t wake up thinner and suddenly stop hating myself. FUCK YOUUUUUUUU GOD IM SO SICK OF IT GOD. whatever im done. just sick and tired.

[sweetwriter]

Oh To Love

by sweetwriter

I often feel like Hephaestus, the throwed away one; the ugly one; the crafter. People only care about the craft and never the crafter. 

I write this story, as a manifestation of a love I would like to receive. 

Hephaestus!Reiner x black reader (at certain points)

this chapter and a couple other chapters are going to be build ups to the love story of Reiner x YN

Heads up: abandonment, self hate, rejection, shame, angst, fluff, maybe smut (later) idk, happy ending :)

This story is based off the poem by Nikola Gill the story of Hephaestus 

This has become a loosely connected story of my version of Hephaestus. Think of these are prologues to the beginning of the yn x reiner story lol. Just trying to get some extra character build in here but yeah.

A huge gasp of air could be heard as Reiner shot up from his laid position. That day still haunts him 5 years later. He was taken in by whom he calls his Aunt and Uncle, they were the only parents he had if he could say it outloud; however, he knows his parents are jealous gods, they can never accept that one can be happier than they. Even though it is not all that difficult to surpass their level of happiness: they're miserable. 

They live in the rural area where he works the land, goat-herd, and looks for stones to make his next creations. 

Reiner- the name his aunt and uncle gave him. It means counsel. They always called him their wise counsel, because he was wise beyond his years. They kept a keen eye for things he had to work on with his hands, gardening, animals; however, he was struggling with creating friendships. They assumed whatever happened before they found him on the foot of mount olympus caused him to crawl into his shell and promise to never come out. 

There was a day, where Reiner was out in the fields, allowing the goats to roam. Feeding an orphaned kid in his lap. And then, there was a scent that made his muscles go tight. Smell of ambrosia. 

The baby goat snuggles into Reiner. 

“I see they treat you as a commoner here,” Zeus chortles. All Reiner could do was stay still; looking forward. He can’t look his father in the face; the very one that threw him down Olylmpus. 

“They are kind here” Reiner whispers, “What does kindness have to do with who you are? You are a god.” Zeus slaps Reiners back, causing the baby goat to bleat. 

“Hera and I have been feeling as if our family, is incomplete,” Zeus continues, “ We want you home; come home to us and your family.”

“This is my family here. I have people I love and those who love me.” Reiner says confused. Why has we waited so long? Why does he want me back home? Only for him to throw me away when he is done with me?

“Humans can never be family to the gods,” Zeus sneered. 

“What about my demi-god brothers and sisters? Are they not included in the family you desperately want me to be apart of?”

Reiner was becoming irritated with what Zeus was insinuating. That his Aunt and Uncle are mere things that have no use nor purpose because they are not gods. They are the only family he has had. 

But oh he desires their love, their acceptance, their appreciation for who he is and what he is. 

He fell for the bait. He was taken back up to Olympus with his father leaving only but a note to his friends and family that he must leave. He must be with his ‘true’ family. Oh it hurt him to hurt the ones that cherished him more than his mother that discarded him in the first place.

[loveofbots]

Can I get a platonic MTMTE Megaton and Ravage x Human female reader? Where the reader can't reach something or involves poetry?

I had a dream and Megatron was in it, He is the definition of a Gilf

I did them both so I could do both parts of the ask!!

Warnings: none, just an old man and his cat

Ravage: 

You had been taking inventory as requested by Rodimus on the Lost Light. Shore leave was in a couple days and he wanted a shopping list of things he needed to get. Specifically for you, he said. 

“Can’t have my favourite squishy going hungry now, can I?”

God, you had rolled your eyes so hard at that. Now you were simply ticking boxes on a chart that Ultra Magnus gave you. The room was dim, but not dark. You could still read labels and such so long as they were in English. It was quiet as well. A stark contrast to the day to day hubbub you were used to. 

Soon you came across a box you recognized. No way, was it? Your favorite treats! Somehow Rodimus must’ve come across them at last shore leave. You could really go for some food right now too. If only it wasn't 20 feet in the air..

You let out a sigh of defeat. Maybe you could ask for some later. A sudden ka-clink caught your attention, turning to see a familiar looking cat. well, a cat the size of a puma but still a cat in your opinion. 

“Hello Ravage.” 

Poor thing always looked fed up with life and it’s bullshit. He seemed to tolerate you however, something you had grown to appreciate. 

“Something have you down, Fleshling?” Ravage stretched his joints and then plodded over to you, following your gaze. “Aaaah... A human energy treat. Are you sad you cannot reach it?” 

You nodded, like a disappointed kid being addressed by a parent. “I was gonna ask Mag’s or Ten to get it down for me, but both are busy right now.” 

Ravage seemed to mull something over in his processor as he stared at you, making you flinch when he suddenly scrunched up his lithe black body and leaped up the shelving unit. In a flash he grabbed you the treat and landed back down next to you, setting it gently on the floor. 

“There, now you can’t say I haven’t done anything for you.” The grumpy feline huffed, getting defensive over the kind act he did. 

You picked it up with a huge grin on your face. “Thank you Ravage!” 

“Yeah, Yeah. See you later Y/N.”

Megatron:

You and Rung had been talking about literature, comparing Earth literature to what Rung could translate for you. He was quite enjoyable to talk to! And had even recommended a few poems to you. 

And that had led you to here. Alone in Swerve’s bar with several tomes of Cybertronian literature that you couldn't read. The audible sigh you let out must’ve attracted attention, as a shadow fell over you. When you looked you saw the co-captain Megatron, regarding you with a gentle look in his optics.

“Is there something I can help with?”

Megatron was making an effort to be more outgoing to others, and had even come to you with some questions regarding how organics like to be treated. Other than that, you two hadn’t interacted maybe as much as you had liked. There was something fatherly about Megatron, something not many others appreciated.

“Yeah actually.” You moved over so the mech could take a seat next to you. “Rung and I have been reading cybertronian literature lately. But he translates everything. I can’t read the ones he ended up recommending me.” A sad look passed over your features, making the ex-warlord frown. Despite his many years hating organics, one look at your face and he felt his spark twinge with sympathy.

Right then and there he subconsciously decided that you, the only human aboard the lost light, were worth his protection and so much more. He had never had a sparkling, but you were pretty damn close. He took one of the data pads in his servos.

“I can translate for you, but only under the conditions you learn how to read our language.” It was only half teasing. Megatron thought that learning Cybertronian would be a very useful skill for you. You looked up at him with innocent eyes and beamed. Nodding your head. The old mech chuckled and turned the datapad on, his vents hitching as he read the first line of text… and the author.

“Oh.”

“What is it?”

He glanced down at you nervously, scooping you up in his servo to place you down on the table so he could read with you.

“This is one of my poems.” He seemed shy about it, not making eye contact. You smiled, he was still shy about his writing. It was very humbling to see your co-captain fidgeting nervously.

You spoke up to encourage him. “That just means you’re the best one to read it. Rung and I always try and interpret the meanings, but since you’re here you can tell me what inspired it!”

He smiled down at you, gently ruffling your hair with a digit. “You’re right, but I’d still like to hear your interpretations.”

[arthurtaylorlester]

malevolent pt 31 liveblog ''the nightmare''

arthur is sleepy i'm so glad

WAIT WHAT

KELLIN??

WHERE'S JOHN

WHY THE FUCK IS KELLIN THERE

DOWN THE TOWER??

WHAT

IS

GOING

ON

oh wait i get it

is the whole episode a fever dream

THE HEAD!!!! RETURNS

samantha is its name

girl what is going on did i miss something

yes you are daft arthur

where is john

i miss him

i cant have him gone again after s3

the voice being distorted?

ayo kellin lowkey sounds like john what is going on

the butcher?? the apartment??

i think i get it. arthur is like dreaming and his memories are blending. kelling and john function as the same person

UNCLE? this is definitely a dream

OH GOD ARTHUR TRAUMA AHHHHHHH

LISTEN TO JOHN GODAMMIT

the train? oh this is getting good

PERCIVAL !!!

NO NOT HIS WIFE WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU KILLED HER

JOHN !! YES LISTEN !!

who is john?

wdym you DONT REMEMBER

I WAS RIGHT KELLING = JOHN RN

yes bbg you are dreaming

noooo you didnt drown your girl arthur

wait is kiy has the dreamlands does he have dreams as well

LISTEN !! TO !! JOHN !!

YES HE IS YOUR SUBCONSCIOUS

why is you trying grunting real hard dude wtf

oooh please be yellow or somehting

OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD

''i'm not a piece of you'' THE LITTLE BITCH IS BACK !!

''clever boy'' dude wtf

yellow repaying arthur for being called ''good boy'' by him that one time

PODCAST ACHIEVEMENT!! worms obtained

yeah arthur what ARE you doing

ohhhhhhhh what did happen

this is such good horror wtf

oh ok i was just talking about this with finch but the line ''you are me screaming at me'' @ kellin who is functionally john this ep makes me think about like, how arthur and john are the same person, fundamentally

yeah why not even john?

''because'' what

WHAT DO YOU MEAN ARTHUR YOU DON'T TRUST JOHN EITHER

YES YOU'RE GOING IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION PLEASE!!!!

PLEASE YES KAYNE !!

what

what is he slipping away

no

no no no he can't fracture more can he

aughhh i get why this wasnt good for april 1st

well deserved angst post fluffy eps like 29-30

yellow isnt the king sooooo

OH GOD ARTHUR THINKS HE RUINED YELLOW

THE SOUND MIXING THIS EP IS AMAZING AGHHHHH

OH NO BELLA LORE

WHERE WERE YOU ARTHUR

DANIEL???

arthur not wanting to go to the caves what happened dude

is this like omori with repressed memories oooooohhhhh

THE WRAITH !! AND THE BABY !!

GOD BLESS THIS BABY STANCZYCK

yes arthur you didnt kill this baby !! slay !

you saved it :)

this is like a mega malevolent recap

mmmmm yellow watcha doing there

YES ARTHUR YOU HAVE AGENCY

tentacles?

OH YEAH THE LAKE SORRY MY MIND WENT ..... ELSEWHERE

oh god this is so fucking well done i love this episode !!

HIS SCREAMS GAHHHHHH THE ACTING !!

OH GOD THIS SEQUENCE WAS SO GOOD

kelling as arthur subconscious is such a good literary choice

because he took the things he loved FROM HIMSELF

HE LEFT HIMSELF TO DIE METAPHORICALLY TOO

mmmmmmmmmm i fuckign love this godforsaken podcast

not a piece of media i enjoy more

hmmmm kelling being john and also a part of arthur subconscious? i was literally just thinking about this a few hours ago

the episode still has 30 more minutes i'm scared

AUGHHH THE METAPHOR OF ARTHUR BURYING HIMSLED/KELLIN/JOHN STAND-IN

go off girl about evil

you are so hot when you're smart /hj

ahhhhhh arthur trauma is so :(((((

OH GOD BABY NO HE'S SO FUCKING HUMAN

nooooo you were moving on you werent happy she died

arthur confronting his trauma is sooo

i feel so fucking bad for arthur and he isnt even real

so youre gonna sleep. in a dream. okay ig

oh wait you meant metaphorically oh ok

KELLIN (ARTHUR'S SUBCONSCIOUS) AND PAST BEING BURIED AND HIM WISHING HE FINDS HIS GIRL

DARK WORLD ARC WHEN ????

also yes i've been saying same deck of cards, two sides of the same coin

wait who

oh larson

AHHAHAHA NEW NICKNAME ''golden boy'' ''your undefeated''

oh god

yellow being yellow but john being golden

harlan guthrie you goddamns genius

john did take away everything from arthur but gold is malleable, changeable

THE POEM HE POSTED ON TWT A FEW DAYS AGO

GOLD IS NATURE'S FIRST GREEN !!

nothing gold can stay

oh god this is beautiful

fave malevolent episode EASY FOR SURE

YOU ARE CHOOSING TO STAY OR ARE LARSON AND YELLOW ACTUALLY THERE THROUGH SPOOKY MAGIC SHENANIGANS TO TORTURE HIM

arthur married and had faroe young .........

smh larson arthur is just built different and comprehends the horror

there's a beauty in horror

yeah you tell him it's not horror

flashback??

BECAUSE THEY GOT MARRIED BECAUSE THEY HAD A KID AND WEREN'T MARRIED

HE DOESNT LOVE HER

AROMANTIC FR !!!!

oh a pity fuck?? dude

hmmmmm you cant live for someone else

it's wrong? for you? oh girl you got a big storm coming

james. new character alert.

YOURE GONNA LEAVE YOU'RE WIFE AS SHE'S GIVING BIRHT?? ARTHUR NOOOO

hmmm yeah arthur kinda deserved that

OH DAMN JAMES

BELLA WASNT THE ONLY PERSON TO LOVE HIM

he has uh..... an evil eldritch monster

god arthur you idiot you deal with it and your wife dies before you get to the hospital

faroe was alone in the hospital for a goddamn hour

no larson he was feeling silly i still love him

the hour oh goddddd

he fr does not care about bella AT ALL

AJHDSFJHEFHSJDFHJDHFGKH WALLY

he really loves insulting himself

he's so me-coded

he's over this guys you heard it here first

the demon yes i forgot about it !!

YOU COMBAT IT WITH JOHN !!

LISTEN

oh faroe :(((

oh the fics that we'll get

oh god she was so little

he cared so much for faroe AGGHHHH

SHE LIKED STORIES :(((((

''are you there troll?'' I'M SOBBING FR

oh god the game

jadhkjhfhjdfj the monster

seen WHO?

JOHN?

KIY?

YELLOW?

TENDRILSSSS

oh god no don't tell me it was throat oh okay

stomach oh my fuckingggoddd what

WHAT IS HE PULLING OUT

THE INTESTINES OUCH

THEY'RESWEET

HE WANTS TO FUCKING EAT YOU

stabbing him might free himt though

he's delirius

JOHN YES FINALLY BBG YOU'RE HERE MY BABY

i fucking knew he was sleepwalking

200 years???

how old is this woman

this thing is wow

idk why i ent the whole ep thinking it was the kiy

he's going to fucking eat you

oh god oh fuck i'll cry this episode is amazing

wait what

did he fucking get a new pet

HE'S HIS FAVOURITE????

arthur's trauma was so tasty he fucking got a fan

uh oh

this isn't any good is it

YOU CALL IT MADNESS RETURN??

NO? OKAY...

okay this episode was phenonget ready for a whole new month of ranting

[mindful-of-ideas]

Preference: Dead Poets Society

- Studying With the Poets

Characters: Charlie, Neil, Todd, Meeks, Knox, Pitts, Cameron

A/N: This is the first time I’m writing preferences so I hope you like it and I’m open to any feedback! I tried to keep this strictly friendship but you might see stuff that could pretty well turn into flirting if you want it to (:

Charlie:

Charlie is the kind of person who needs a loud environment to be able to study. Otherwise, he will find his own distractions. That’s why you were surprised when he agreed to study alone with you. When it’s only the two of you, he mostly fidgets with pens or paper instead. Which you really don’t mind except when he steals your pens. You could have a pen on your ear or one holding your hair and he would snatch it without notice pretending he absolutely needed that one. One time he even took the pen from your hand as you were about to write with it.

“I was using that…”

“Sorry, here!” he said giving you another pen from his breast pocket.

“Will I ever see my own pen again?”

“Maybe…”

To keep him from getting bored you ask him loads of questions and he’s always happy to answer. And he’s actually really good at explaining. He will put it in the simplest terms and make really far-fetched links between things but it does help in understanding and memorizing the subject. When he doesn’t understand something and you don’t either, you will think about it out loud, debate it, bounce ideas off of each other, and most often you get to a satisfying answer.

You’re also the first public to all his presentations. And god knows he needs help with those.

“What… what was the subject,” you asked once he was done.

“The industrialization of England in the 1800s.”

“So not the last King of France?”

“How did you even get that?!”

“You’re the one who brought it up!”

That also means you’re the first one to hear the poems he writes.

Neil:

He’s the one to ask you to study with him and very quickly it becomes a weekly thing. You always study together on the same day at the same time. Still, he always asks you first and makes sure you want to be there. If you ever say no, he doesn’t pressure you or question your decision.

“How about today, Y/N?”

“Yeah, today’s fine, sorry about last week.”

“Don’t worry. Still, I hope everything is okay.”

Because he genuinely cares about how you’re feeling.

This boy is a disaster when it comes to science and math. So he’s always asking you questions, even if you’re not the best either. He prefers asking you over Cameron or Meeks because he likes the way you explain it. While he struggles with those subjects, he’s good at literature and Latin.

At some point, Todd got really sick and couldn’t help him learn his lines, so he asks you instead.

“I’m sorry, Todd must be better than me at this.”

“It’s okay, you’re really good actually. Don’t worry about it,” he answered flashing you the biggest smile.

Turns out you’re not half bad and you actually enjoy doing that with Neil.

“How come you can remember all those lines, but not the 20 first elements of the periodic table?” you asked when you were revising for an exam.

“Maybe there should be a play about it.”

“Presenting ‘The Elements of the Periodic Table’, featuring Neill Perry as number 8, oxygen, and Y/N L/N as number 19, potassium!”

He chuckled.

“That would make an ok play I guess,” he finally said.

Todd:

You asked him many times to join you when he’s studying but he always refused politely. So one day you decided to just sit right on from of him, take out your textbooks and wait for him to say something… and he never said anything. So you studied with him in silence for a while, not sure if you were making him uncomfortable (hopefully not), until you had a question.

“I’m not sure I understand what Mr. Keating wants us to do for the analysis?” you asked out loud.

“I… it’s… it’s not too com-complicated,” he finally said, “I can show you what I’ve done for my poem.”

“Yeah, that could help.”

And just like that, a silent agreement passed between the two of you. You would study together, mostly in silence, but would always be there for each other whenever you needed help.

“And that’s how you can figure out how many moles of acid you have left. Does that make sense?” you said, looking up at him.

“Yeah, yeah I think I get it now,” he answered lowering his head and smiling.

“What are you smiling for?”

Seeing he wasn’t answering you went on.

“Now please explain to me this,” you said pointing at some Latin from today’s class.

“Sure,” he said pulling his chair closer.

And he’s super good at explaining things.

He would also let you read the poems he’s written.

“That might be my favourite so far!”

“You always say that.”

“Is this the one you’re going to read tonight?”

“I- I don’t think I’ll read.”

“Can I read it for you then? I’ll tell everyone you wrote it obviously.”

“I’m not sure, Y/N.”

“No pressure, you can say no. I was just offering,” you said, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

Meeks:

He is good in basically every subject so he can help with anything. He was actually the one to come up to you and ask if you wanted to study with him.

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Yeah.”

“I was wondering if you might want to study with me sometime?”

“Sure!”

“It’s just I saw the face you made after we got back the physics exam and I figure… maybe I could help… not that I think you’re not good or that…”

“You’re okay, I could really use the help honestly.”

He tries so hard to not make it seem like things come easily to him so that you don’t feel like you’re ‘slowing him down’. He answers all your questions and takes the time to make sure you understand. He’s not the best at explaining but he does it differently than your teachers do, and that’s what helps you the most.

He also is the most patient of all the poets and puts up with everything you do.

“You realize you’re under the table. Table which you could use to write your homework on,” he said, not even bothering to look at you.

“The world is calmer down here,” you answered.

“The world is…”

Not even a second later he is sitting by your side.

“Yeah, I get what you mean… it’s like we’re under a wave. You did forget about the normal force, however.”

“Goddammit!”

Knox:

When you two are studying alone, no one actually believes work is getting done. It always seems like you’re doing anything but studying. But you are getting work done. You could be blasting music so loud that no one else except you two could concentrate. Or you could go on bike rides while quizzing each other the whole time.

But mostly you just gossip while doing homework. You gossip so much. No one gets how you can talk and study at the same time. You can even study different subjects yet still understand what’s happening.

“Ok, but is Chris okay with that?”

“Yeah, she is, that’s the best part! Did you get x=3π for number 4?”

“3π + 2nπ, so when are you going, next week? ‘Rosam’ is accusative right?”

“Yes. No, the one after. When are you going to find someone for yourself, we could make this a double date?”

You blush.

He’s also the mastermind behind every mnemonic trick you’ve ever used. Some of them only make sense to you two and Meeks hates absolutely all of them.

“So, you know the greatest integer function?” he started.

“Yeah…”

“Overstreet, don’t” shouted Meeks from across the room.

“No, go on,” you said.

“So, when it’s regular you have these parameters we call ‘a’ and ‘b’, right?”

“Yeah…”

“So if you’re confused about which one does what, just remember that you can only hit your foot on the step height so that’s your ‘a’!”

“How is that…”

“Because when you hit your toes on something you go ‘ahhhh’!”

“That’s brilliant,” you said smiling at him.

Pitts:

You started studying together by accident. One night, all of the poets were studying together when one by one they left, leaving the two of you alone. At first, it was awkward. You would basically sit in silence and occasionally would ask each other questions. But slowly he warms up to you and you start getting more comfortable. As you spend more time together, you start sitting side by side instead of in front of each other.

“Fu…” you started saying.

“Y/N, don’t,” he said giving you a disapproving look.

“But the science won’t science!”

He burst out laughing.

“What is it, you don’t understand?” he asked.

“The science… just all of it… I’m so dumb.”

“Alright, look at me,” he said turning to face you, “wait, I need to lower myself, I want to see your eyes… ok that won’t work, get up.”

You complied, curious to see where this was going.

“Still too tall,” he continued, “here get on the chair.”

Once again, you complied.

“That’s it, now we’re eye to eye. Y/N L/N, you are not dumb. Now come down, I’ll do the problem with you.”

He gave you his hand and you jumped down smiling. This is one of the few moments where you can see his goofier side and you’re not complaining. He always makes sure you feel confident and happy before continuing his explanation. 

That’s about the only time he looks you in the eyes. When he reassures you and wants to make sure you understand what he’s saying. Otherwise, he’s often doodling while explaining stuff, so your notes are covered in flowers and mushrooms and stars.

Cameron:

This boy writes down EVERYTHING during class. So whenever you missed something you just go and ask him to see his notes. And he’s always happy to help you out. Even if he writes everything down, it doesn’t mean he understood everything, so he often relies on you to explain it.

“What does that mean?” he asked pointing at something in his notebook.

“What does it even say? Cameron, you’ve got the worse handwriting!”

“There is a parallel to be drawn between magic in Julius Caesar and religion in Ancient Rome,” he said grumpily, “that’s what I wrote.”

“Oh,” you said chuckling, “I think it’s simply that the way magic is presented in the play is similar to what the Romans thought of magic. At least in the beginning of Rome and the empire. Didn’t Shakespeare actually use like an Ancient source about that?”

“The main source for historical details was Plutarch’s Parallel Lives,” he said reading from his notes, “your right!”

He is also really stubborn. He wants to understand things by himself and find a way of studying that will work perfectly for him. He won’t go to the next problem until he solved this one even if it takes him hours.

“We could just ask Meeks,” you said.

“Absolutely not!” he answered, “Meeks won’t be there at the exam, we need to understand on our own.”

[luigi-mcdingle]

a while back, out of sheer morbid curiosity, i went back to beta version 1.7.3 of minecraft (the earliest version i could find new records of people playing) yknow, to see what was different and if it was still any good that far back it was. um. not? i mean i guess i see the appeal but i couldn't play without the ability to sprint, no end, no enchanting, no hunger? but that's just me, again i see the appeal then, again out of morbid curiosity, i upgraded to version 1.0.0, expecting a similar experience i now have 142 hours on my 1.0.0 world. | v

this version of minecraft is, compared to today's vision of minecraft, simple so many things we tend to take for granted aren't there, like stained glass, hoppers, maps, item frames, villages, horses, stone walls... you get the point

i didn't expect to put more than an hour or so into this world before going back to my heavily-modded 1.16.5 world or making a new 1.20 world, but something about it just kept me entranced there were simple goals and simple ways to reach it, but the basic gameplay was just so fun

i've always thought modern minecraft was kinda bloated, and this really cemented that feeling; we didn't need frogs or ocean monuments or horses or redstone comparators or any of the stuff that has been added since that time

yeah, it'd be nice for some of the modern quality of life features to be available like pressing ctrl to sprint or sheep being able to regrow their wool, but it's not needed minecraft became popular because the concept is perfect as is; your imagination really fuels things before i realized i was having so much fun, i was doing things i had never done before in my thousands of hours of minecraft, like building functional mob grinders, mining out slime chunks, and making elaborate redstone contraptions

(the walls of the lower room in this pic ^ are made of mushroom blocks... that i had to manually push into the room one by one with pistons because silk touch only gave solid brown mushroom blocks, no red ones) when i decided i was getting bored of this world, i went to good ol curseforge and downloaded about a hundred mods for 1.16.5 and played that... for maybe five hours, then i went right back to 1.0.0. yeah, i know, those are kinda polar opposites in terms of content and bloat, but it says something, right?

(yes that's the animal crossing train station) the one thing i ended up doing in this world that i had never done, that i honestly thought id never do, was go to the end and kill the enderdragon. yeah, in thousands of hours playing this game, i never once beat it. id always make a world, dick around for a while, then stop playing and eventually come back and start the whole process again... that or id play on multiplayer servers. remember mineplex? i should ramble about that one day...

i had known about the ending poem, especially since the whole thing with it becoming public domain (have you read the author's blog post about that situation? where he talks about how he took a bunch of shrooms in the woods and God told him what to write, and the end poem was the result?) but i never read it because... well, i just never felt like it, really. reading it for the first time after my long playthrough of this simple, fun version of minecraft that i so quickly grew to love so much was... something else. id say you should read the poem (it's available online, obviously) but it really doesn't work nearly as well without the experience of a full minecraft playthrough backing it up.

all this talk and im not really sure what my point in all this is. i guess it's something along the lines of "you don't need everything to enjoy life. limitation breeds creativity, and simplicity can bring happiness." or something. i dunno, it's fuckin' minecraft. maybe try making a new world. and having fun.

oh yeah, also i never really got that "creepy feeling" most people seem to get in these older versions of minecraft. i got a little creeped out while strip mining but that's just me not liking corridors.

[eldritchsurveys]

1180.

1. Do you enjoy rhododendrons? >> Sure, they're very pretty.

2. Have you ever met someone who supports Nazism? >> On the internet, yeah. Fortunately not in meatspace where they can actually do something to me. 3. If you’ve ever been to another country, what was the best thing you did there? .

4. Which is your favorite print: Plaid, animal, stripes, spots, other? >> Plaid is the one I dislike the least...

5. Have you ever owned a cell phone for over a year? If so, was it still working well? >> There is no way I would voluntarily get a new phone after less than a year. That is horrifying to me.

6. What’s the worst sickness you’ve ever had? >> Food poisoning. Also, the sickness that comes with bad menstrual cramps.

7. What do you enjoy more: Fairs or circuses? .

8. Is your favorite animal something you can have as a pet? . 9. Are you good at gardening? >> I am not because I don't practice it.

10. What was the last classic novel you read? Did you enjoy it? >> Hmm... I have no idea. 11. Do you think you would actually read any of the epic poems, such as Beowulf or The Iliad? >> Probably not. 12. Are you the type of person who feels guilty after eating junk food? >> I don’t feel guilty after eating anything. God, what a concept. :/

13. Tell me about a time when you felt like you had no real friends: >> I always feel like that. It might be a side effect of having no fulfilling friendships (aside from Sparrow, I suppose, but the "fulfilling" part is, uh, variable).

14. Have you ever felt betrayed by someone? If so, what did they do to make you feel that way? >> Possibly. I never use this term so I don't have an associated memory handy.

15. Which is better: Xbox 360 or PS3? Or are you someone who doesn’t care? >> I don’t have an opinion.

16. Have you gotten registered to vote yet? >> I am registered.

17. What do you like best about your favorite actor? How about favorite actress? >> Usually what makes an actor a favourite for me is that they do something to me, viscerally. It's something like attraction, I suppose. Certainly as hard to explain.

18. Tell me how you’re feeling in another language: .

19. Would you rather drink water all day or Coca Cola all day? >> Water. I rarely drink Coke in the first place.

20. Name three movies which have a soundtrack you really love: >> Requiem for a Dream, Speak No Evil (2022), Sunshine.

21. Do you think Gatorade tastes refreshing or just gross? >> I don't know, I haven't had Gatorade in years.

22. What’s the scariest video game you’ve ever played? .

23. Do either of your parents get angry over small things? . 24. What is the most dramatic TV show that you watch? >> I don't really know how to measure this. I mean, Riverdale is basically a soap opera, so I guess that? 25. Do you still watch VHS tapes? >> I have not watched those since the early aughts. 26. Have you ever visited one of the states that doesn’t have sales tax? Was it a nice change? >> I have not.

27. Have you ever had Dutch Brothers’ coffee? >> I have not.

28. What are your grandparents like? Are they nice or mean? . 29. Do you own any pet fish? What kind of fish are they? .

30. Do you have a turntable and vinyls that you regularly play? >> I do have these things but I don't regularly use them. It's just so much more of a hassle to do so than it is to just play Spotify. Also, I don't think my record player has Bluetooth capability and I usually listen to music through wireless headphones.

31. What is the most irritating thing that a boyfriend or girlfriend has ever done to you? >> I am so easily irritated by people that this is impossible to determine, lol.

32. Have you ever thrown up from being so nervous? What was happening that made you so nervous? >> I have not.

33. Would you rather be uncomfortable but fashionable or comfortable but unfashionable? >> I will always choose to be comfortable, but I don't think that excludes me from being fashionable. It just requires some cleverness.

34. When was the last time you took your pet to the vet? What was wrong with it? . 35. Have you ever known someone who was in an abusive relationship? >> Well, yeah. Unfortunately, that is extremely common.

36. If you smoke/drink/do drugs, do you feel insulted when someone tells you that it’s bad for you? >> If someone tried to tell me that, I would be extremely irritated at best. I am quite capable of evaluating personal risk and making informed decisions, thank you.

37. Do you like skiing or snowboarding? >> I have never done this. 38. Do you find government buildings dreary and uncomfortable? >> Sometimes, but mostly I don't think about them at all.

39. Name the last horror story you read. If you can’t remember any, name the last horror movie you saw. >> A Short Stay in Hell by Steven Peck. It's a novella about a Tower of Babel situation, pretty neat.

40. What happened the last time you were embarrassed? .

[ericsonclan]

Unending Love

Summary: Violet works to memorize one of Prisha's favorite poems to surprise her on her birthday.

Word Count: 2,921

Read on AO3:

Violet paced back and forth in her room as the morning light started to pierce through the boarded up windows. She wanted to get this perfect. It felt like the least she could do for Prisha.

“In life after life, in age after age, forever. My spellbound heart has made and remade the-” Violet’s brows furrowed and she started to motion aimlessly. “What is it called again? Why the fuck can’t I remember the word?”

“Necklace,” Aasim calmly answered, his eyes focused on the piece of paper in front of him.

“Shit. Fuck. I’m gonna screw this up. Give me that,” Violet took the paper and slowly reread the poem. It was at times like this that she was thankful for the glasses or else this would be pointless.

“You’ll get it eventually.”

“Yeah, well ‘eventually’ isn't worth shit if I don’t memorize it now.” Violet took a shaky breath. God, why did she suck at memorizing shit sometimes? She tried her best to pull herself out of her self depreciation. It didn’t matter if she fucked it up now as long as she didn’t tonight.

“You’re being too hard on yourself. Prisha will love this regardless if you stumble a bit,” Aasim got up to his feet and took back the paper before motioning for Violet to start again.

She took a few deep breaths. She knew Aasim was right. Prisha would love this but Violet still wanted to not fuck up her wife’s favorite poem. Especially not on her birthday.

“Okay,” Violet took one last centering breath. “I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times…”

After many, many more attempts Violet finally settled on her last one. It would have to do. She had other stuff that needed to be done to make today a great birthday for Prisha.

“Thanks, y’know, for helping me memorize this and for keeping track of the days. I don’t know how your brain works like a calendar but I’m glad it does.”

Aasim smiled at that. “Glad to help. Want to go over it one more time?”

“Nah, I can’t. I need to help Ruby in the greenhouse for dinner tonight.”

“Okay,” Aasim handed over the paper and Violet folded it and placed it in her back pocket. With a quick goodbye she was off towards the courtyard where she saw that everyone was already hard at work on today’s chores. Omar was busy tending to the fire while Willy scampered back and forth to get more firewood. AJ was busy talking to Clementine while they did watchtower duty together and Louis was strolling out of the admin building with Prisha. It seemed like it had paid off to ask Louis to help distract Prisha for most of the day. Both of them were excitedly talking about the latest song they had worked to preserve in written form when Louis suddenly noticed Violet. As soon as he did so he gave a wink that was anything but subtle. Pulled from the conversation Prisha followed her friend’s gaze and spotted her wife. Immediately a soft smile appeared on her lips.

“I’m going to go but it was really fun.” She started to make her way towards Violet when Louis quickly jogged over and held onto Prisha’s arm.

“Nope. Sorry, but you’re on fishing duty with me today.”

“But it’s my birthday and you don’t even enjoy fishing.” Prisha looked over at Louis who was struggling to find a good excuse to get Prisha to go with him.

“Yeah, well those fish are too fast for just me. We should just make a giant net or something.”

“Hmm, a fishing net would be nice. I’ll bring it up with Willy. Now if you’ll excuse me,” Prisha tried to take another step forward but Louis blocked her path.

“Nope.”

“Why not? It’s my birthday. Let me talk to my wife.”

“But the chores.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, I don’t care about the chores right now. Besides, I can take off one day of chores. It’s not like you don’t do the same.”

“Yep, but I’m me and you love chores. So too bad,” Louis tugged Prisha away and while Prisha was grumpily picking up a fishing bucket he snuck a thumbs up over to Violet. God, he sucked at this distracting thing sometimes. Violet could feel her annoyance grow. The whole point was to distract Prisha, not make her upset. Still she couldn’t change Louis’ plan and so Violet watched silently as he strolled out the gates with Prisha. After a few waves goodbye the pair were off towards the fishing shack.

“Hey there, Vi, ready to head over to the greenhouse?”

Violet glanced over and spotted Ruby then nodded. “Yeah,”

“Okay then let’s get a move on,” Ruby led the way, baskets in hand while Violet kept on the lookout just in case a walker had breached the wall. Her hand stayed gripped to the handle of her meat cleaver, ready to unsheath it from the protective case by her hip. After she was sure it was safe though she relaxed a bit and held open the door to the greenhouse.

“Thank you,” Ruby smiled then made her way over to one of the planters. “First we’ll grab all the spices we need then head out towards the garden to get the tomatoes. Omar told me we still have some onions and garlic so we don’t gotta worry about that.”

“Okay,” Violet grabbed one of the baskets from her friend and started to search for the right planter. It was crazy to think how much they were growing now. It didn’t seem like that long ago they didn't do anything to help really flavor the food much at all. It had been years since then though and Violet knew that both Omar and Ruby fought to make sure they got the best plants possible for the greenhouse from visiting caravans over the years.

“So, Aasim told me you’re memorizing a poem for Prisha,” Ruby smiled over at Violet. The lilt in her voice held an air of anticipation. It didn’t take an expert to see that Ruby wanted to hear it.

Violet sighed and crossed her arms. “I told Aasim to not tell anymore.” “Well I’m his wife so I don’t count. Now come on, let’s hear it.”

“I suck at it.”

Aww, Sug, I’m sure that ain’t true.” Ruby kept pushing and Violet knew she wouldn’t stop.

“Fine,” Violet grumbled then took a deep breath before she started to recite the poem. She worked alongside Ruby, picking the necessary spices and veggies needed for dinner tonight. The poem felt like she didn’t get a good rhythm on it and she forgot a word or two occasionally but after a while she finally finished.

“Wow, that’s grand,” Ruby sighed. “Oh, Prisha is gonna love it.”

“You think so?”

“Oh I know so. Any gal would fall head over heels hearing those words but knowing that it’s one of Prisha’s favorites…” Ruby shook her head with a happy smile. ‘She might just faint.”

“Yeah right,” Violet glanced away and worked on picking tomatoes that looked ripe. A smile stayed on her lips though for the rest of her time with Ruby. She could feel her self confidence rising back up again. Maybe she wouldn’t fuck it up after all.

Time seemed to be working against Violet as she helped Omar with dinner prep. He kept being snappy about how things needed to be done. How in order to make this fish curry taste the best it could, it needed time to cook so the flavors could marinate together. Violet didn’t really get it but she just let Omar keep talking about the flavors and how he’d make sure it was better than the last time he had gotten a chance to cook Indian food.

“We’ve come back bearing fish aplenty!” Louis grinned as he held up a bucket that was filled to brim with the catches of the day.

“I can help with dinner prep,” Prisha offered as she set down her own bucket.

“Ah, ah, ah you’re the birthday girl so that means no helping out with dinner or other chores.” Louis tutted his finger before he caught the annoyed glare of his friend.

“Oh really? Because that didn’t seem to apply to me earlier.”

“Aww, who can remember things that happened earlier? It’s in the past,” Louis waved his hand dismissively despite Prisha’s expression.

“Alright well can I at least keep you company while you work?” Prisha looked over at Violet who nodded.

“Sure.”

“Wonderful,” Prisha moved to sit down when suddenly she heard her voice being screamed,

“Prisha! Prisha! Prisha!” Willy screeched to a halt and gave a toothy grin. “Come and see the invention I made for you!”

“Right now?”

Willy nodded enthusiastically. Prisha knew based on the way he was smiling and how he swayed as he bounced on the balls of his feet that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“Alright. I’ll see you at dinner?” Prisha glanced back at her wife who nodded.

“Yep.”

Prisha gave one final smile before she was pulled away once more. Willy was talking a mile a minute while Prisha was struggling to keep up with him.

“William. William, this is really nice but please slow down.”

“Oops, sorry! I’m just really excited to show you the surprise!”

Violet watched them for a minute as they disappeared into the dorms before she looked back and saw Louis’ wiggling eyebrows.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just…”

Shit. Violet had put together the pieces.

“I wanna hear the poem too.”

“No.”

Louis looked shocked. “What? Why not? Aasim got to hear it!”

“He was helping me. How the hell do you know about the poem anyway?” “Aasim told Ruby who spilled it to Clem and there’s no secrets between me and Clem,”

Violet sighed in annoyance as she sliced through the last tomato. While Clementine walked across the courtyard she caught Violet’s gaze and mouthed a small apology before helping AJ with something.

“Soooo,” Louis leaned on his elbows and smiled over at his best friend.

“Not happening.”

“Why not?”

Violet didn’t answer that and instead worked on some of the onions. “Help me cut veggies or go bother someone else.”

Louis pouted at that. “Fine. Wow. On a birthday too,” He got up and dramatically sulked away.

“It’s not even your birthday, dumbass!” Violet yelled then grumbled as she returned to the onions. After a few seconds she used the sleeve of her shirt to wipe away some tears. Shit, cutting onions sucked.

“I can see you’re already regretting not sharing with me. I see the tears!”

“They’re from the onions! So shut up!” Whatever, he could be a baby about it if he wanted to. She’d just block him out and go over the poem in her head again.

It felt like dinner took forever to cook. Violet had been worried about the day going too slowly but now the time for her birthday surprise for Prisha was quickly approaching. She kept wishing it had already happened so this pit of nerves in her gut would leave.

“It smells wonderful, Omar,” Prisha smiled as a bowl of fish curry was placed in front of her.

“Thanks, I’m hoping I’ve improved since the last time.” Omar worked to dish up the rest of the servings then sat down himself. Dinner became as lively as it ever did but this time it all centered around the birthday girl. Louis had come up with the tradition to go around the dinner table and share things you loved about the birthday person whenever their birthday rolled around. Some of them got more invested in sharing as many things as they could while others were more reserved and quiet. While Willy was going on and on about how cool Prisha was - especially when it came to inventions - Violet was busy going over the poem again.

“Okay, your turn, Violet!”

“What? Oh ummm,” Violet rubbed the back of her neck and stared down at the picnic table. “I love how kind you are. Y’know, with your words and actions.” She was already overwhelmed and this was making it spike. She didn’t like being put on the spot much. Still she could tell that what she said had meant a lot to her wife.

“Okay, back to Omar! Go!” Louis pointed to Omar who looked up from his food.

“I like how hardworking you are.” A buzzer sound emitted from the other side of the table.

“Nope, Aasim already said that.” Louis shook his head and crossed his arms.

“Yeah he already said it,” AJ mirrored Louis which caused Omar to sigh.

The rest of dinner felt like a blur to Violet who was ready for it to be over with. Eventually she got what she wanted as Clementine and Aasim gathered the dishes to wash.

“So, what would you like to do after dinner?” Prisha rose up from her spot which made Violet do the same.

“I actually have a surprise for you.” Violet instinctively held her arm to the side with one of her hands and looked down sheepishly.

“Oh?” Prisha’s eyes shone with curiosity.

“Yeah, let’s go to the bell tower,”

“Alright,” Prisha followed alongside her wife, casually taking her hand in hers. The two of them slowly made their way over then worked together to pull themselves in the basket to the top.

“Here, let me,” Violet got out first and held her hand out to help Prisha. Prisha took her wife’s hand with a playful smile.

“My, you’re being quite the romantic tonight.” “Yeah, I guess.” Violet held onto her wife’s hand and led the way. “It’s just the beginning though.” She caught Prisha’s eyes light up again the way they always did whenever her curiosity was piqued.

“Now you’ve intrigued me. What kind of plans do you have?” Prisha asked as she sat down with Violet.

“It’s a surprise. I just need a minute,” Violet took a deep breath and felt Prisha’s thumb rub against her hand. “It’s really pretty tonight.”

“It is,” Prisha looked up at the night sky and all the stars that shone within its depths.

“I’m glad. It’d suck if the stars weren’t out for your birthday.” Violet stayed quiet after that. Prisha didn’t seem to push for an answer on what the surprise was even though her curiosity was practically palpable. Both of them were silent as they stargazed, letting the space between and around them rest with a calmness that naturally came with each other’s company.

“I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times…” Violet continued to keep her gaze on the stars as she gently held her wife’s hand. “In life after life, in age after age, forever. My spellbound heart has made and remade the necklace of songs, that you take as a gift, wear round your neck in your many forms. In life after life, in age after age, forever.”

“Whenever I hear old chronicles of love, its age-old pain, its ancient tale of being apart or together. As I stare on and on into the past, in the end you emerge, clad in the light of a pole-star piercing the darkness of time: you become an image of what is remembered forever.” Violet glanced over and held her wife’s gaze. It was then that she noticed how surprised and touched Prisha was by this surprise. It helped her have the courage and confidence to continue.

“You and I have floated here on the stream that brings from the fount. At the heart of time, love of one for another. We have played alongside millions of lovers, shared in the same shy sweetness of meeting, the same distressful tears of farewell-

Old love but in shapes that renew and renew forever.”

“Today it is heaped at your feet, it has found its end in you. The love of all man’s days both past and forever: universal joy, universal sorrow, universal life. The memories of all loves merging with this one love of ours –

And the songs of every poet past and forever.”

Violet finished the poem, her face only a few inches from her wife’s.

“Violet,” Prisha whispered and lifted up her hand to caress her wife’s face as she captured her lips in a tender kiss. The kiss felt like it lasted forever and yet when it ended it felt like it hadn’t lasted long enough.

“Time and time again you surprise me. Although this very well might be the most romantic thing you’ve done yet,” Prisha smiled as she rested her forehead against Violet’s.

“So you liked it?”

“I loved it. You memorized one of my favorite poems for me. How could I not love that?”

Violet smiled at that and let out a shaky breath. “That’s good because I was scared shitless that I’d mess up.”

“It was perfect,” Prisha felt tears well up in her eyes. Words couldn’t seem to do justice on how much this meant to her. To have Violet in her life, to have someone who would surprise her with a romantic gesture like this for her birthday. It was priceless to her. She was so overcome with emotion that she initiated another kiss that turned into many more short and sweet ones. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Violet returned to resting her forehead against her wife’s. “Happy birthday, Prisha.”

[perexcri]

for the writing ask: 1, 13, 19, 40 :)))

AHHH hello Lark!! :D

i just answered #1 here!! i would add more but. i honestly have no more to say lol

13. What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy?

oooh i just answered this one here too, but i have some more i can add!!

for difficult subject matters to write, i also have a very hard time writing about illness. this is again because of personal/family matters, but yeah. i'm not sure i could even do a sick fic (except for like one idea i have, but it's far removed enough from the usual context for me to be able to handle it)

easy to write? in a weird way, apocalypse/end of the world scenarios! this is partially because of the part of the country i grew up in and how the end of the world is something that is often talked about with glee, so there's already just this desensitization to it. but i also just like how,,,symbolic the end of the world can be? like not necessarily The End, but sometimes, the end of the world can be just having a bad day, right? i like the flexibility of the term and how it can be explored

19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

ooooh ok, i think i have a fun one for how this started!

so in another ask a while ago, i had mentioned i'd started writing stories particularly after a difficult time my family went through. so now i'll talk about poetry!

i started writing poetry because of a church camp. no seriously. it was a kids camp between my 5th and 6th grade years of school, and the theme was the arts, so me and all of my schoolmates went to this camp, and all of us had gotten super into manga and drawing in that style the previous school year, so all of us had signed up for the visual arts section of the camp, of course. well basically every single one of my schoolmates who attended the camp got into that one except for me! i ended up in the poetry and cooking section despite not wanting to bother with either, and i was lowkey miserable! i remember feeling crushed because i didn't get to do drawing for that week, but also because i wasn't gonna be with any of my friends, and as an incredibly shy person, that was absolutely distressing

but as i started working on the poetry stuff, i actually (begrudgingly) came to like it? my final piece for the camp was an acrostic which was Not Good by any means, but i was like 11, and i'd never written poetry before, so why would it be good, right? anyways, after that i started exploring poetry more as a way for me to get my emotions out, and i even competed in poetry in this art competition my church's denomination runs at the national level, and i submitted a few poems to students journals when i was in high school. i haven't done much with it since, but i still write it and try to make time with it when i need to get my feelings out (i even went to the beach to write one today!) so...yeah. funny how things happen, right?

speaking of poetry...

40. Please share a poem with me, I need it.

you served me well with your sappho poem, so i tried my best to find one from my favorite poetry collection book i've had since my freshman year of high school :'D i just liked the imagery of this one and how relaxing it is, so i hope you enjoy it, too!

"Let Evening Come" by Jane Kenyon

Let the light of late afternoon

shine through chinks in the barn, moving   

up the bales as the sun moves down.

Let the cricket take up chafing   

as a woman takes up her needles   

and her yarn. Let evening come.

Let dew collect on the hoe abandoned   

in long grass. Let the stars appear

and the moon disclose her silver horn.

Let the fox go back to its sandy den.   

Let the wind die down. Let the shed   

go black inside. Let evening come.

To the bottle in the ditch, to the scoop   

in the oats, to air in the lung   

let evening come.

Let it come, as it will, and don’t   

be afraid. God does not leave us   

comfortless, so let evening come.

thanks for the ask my friend!! i hope you are doing well :] 💜

[darckcarnival]

Get To Know The Mun!

> BASICS! ♡

NAME: Spoop, Splat, D, Darck (peeps usually call my my main muses names except Spoop, I am the spoopiest.)

PRONOUNS: Any! I merely exist.

ZODIAC SIGN: Sagittarius/Capricorn

TAKEN OR SINGLE: Single but married to food.

> THREE FACTS! ♡

Have been writing since the 90's when I was a wee child. Did silly little roleplaying on mIRC, on some forums, and deviant art back in the day there after. Then became a fanfic writer for a while, followed by poems which I was quite good at back in the day. Then began making lyrics- figured nah, not for me. And flipped full circle back into roleplaying once more with some drabbles and maybe a one shot fic here and there. Have been writing ever since! So I have a LOT of history under my belt. And many of my muses have the same type of dedication and time behind them. Gotta put as much love into your character and writing, as if they were your own family. Make them feel alive.

Most art I do is either writing, 3D model modification items, or just with a mouse and keyboard art. I have been practicing more with a gifted tablet and pen, which has allowed me to do more detailed and serious mod work, such as mods for RE4 classic! But I am much better at texture, 3D, or coloring and shading. But heres the fun fact: i learned all my 3D and texture work skills through Second Life before anything else. And it's actually, funny enough, helped me bring muses to life as well as follow up on how to mod other games and go hog wild.

Been struck by lightning twice, fell down two different cliffs, hit by a semi truck, shot with a carbon arrow in the chest, stabbed, shot by bullet, and so on- and yet here I stand. Most of these events were completely accidental as well, and I walked away from. Honestly? I'm just a walking glitch in the matrix of the world, considering I also glitch every single god damn game I touch. THIS IS NOT A JOKE, NO MATTER HOW NEW IT IS, I BREAK IT.

> EXPERIENCE! ♡

PLATFORMS USED: AIM, Yahoo Messenger, DA chat, so many FORUM's back in the day. Skype, Discord, Tumblr.

PLOTTING / WINGING IT / MEMES: Geez, I can roll with just about anything. Plotting? Hell yeah count me in! Plots may not always follow the idea one hundred percent, but it absolutely makes for longer events and threads easily. Winging it? I do that all the damn time and can create so many unexpected events, as well as sudden character development. Twists and turns that just wing a rough idea into something wild. As for Memes and asks? Oh those can still form some really good interactions, character developments or knowledge acquiring moments. Sometimes these are one offs or long drabbles- but they can form into something longer and more serious. However, while I am down for all of the above-- I also have bad ADHD and writing can be hard, so it could take a while.

> MUSE PREFERENCE! ♡

GENDER: I can write just about any gender character, manage things in between or none. However I am more comfortable with female centric style muses. And yet, you put large men in my hands, and watch them go hog fucking wild. And don't even get be started on Robots or Monsters.

MULTI OR SINGLE: I have done both, but usually prefer single muse blogs. And yet I absolutely love my megaman multimuse to death! All my robot children and heathens there, so much work in my own verse there. So many thoughts. But multimuse blogs can still be difficult to keep organized with so much going on in the braincell, and with life being as it is, need to take breaks from it.

LEAST FAVOURITE FACECLAIM(S): Not sure what this means for least favorite here, does it mean people, or genre? I really don't mind one way or another. Especially when it comes to OC's, it's hard to find anyone who fits just right for people. And honestly I do not mind one way or another for people. If it fits someones muse, that's fine by me.

> FLUFF / ANGST / SMUT! ♡

FLUFF: THE GOOD SHIT HELL YEAH. I'm down for fluff so long as it isn't like... Hollow and forced. Fluff can be used as a great comfort option,. be it platonic, familial, friendly, or even romantic. Fluff can be used in so very many ways, and it's always an option withy me. But this can also turn into angst easily with my cursed hands, you have been warned. As well as comedic timing, since Darck needs to make a laugh to make herself comfortable. Darck has... problems.

ANGST: My bread and butter this one, much to the dismay of many of my friends who write with me. The muse on this blog is made of angst and pain and terrible events that have formed her into who she is. Angst can become violence, woe, heavy conversation, as well as venting- it's such a key part of development. There is a saying I quite enjoy: Muses are like geodes. Shiny, pretty, and in order to see what they are really made of, you must break them. I do admit however that I have a limit of how far I can go to a degree, with real life being a thing, but honestly? It takes a whole fucking lot to get there. And also maybe write angst too much and tragedy. Give this muse some better days.

SMUT: As much as I have enjoyed smut in the past, I haven't written such in a very long time, and am very careful of whom I write such with. Turns out I really good at smut according to others. And hey fun fact: People used to straight up pay me to write them smut of their characters and others of their choice. Haven't had that going in years but, it was a thing. However these days, writing smut with my muses needs to be more than just the event. It can be an opening for vulnerability, letting someone get close enough and trust them enough, that no one else really gets. Quiet and heavy conversations, the emotions involved. But if I ever do write it again, both my self and my partner need to be comfortable with writing such a thing. However if I ever did smut in a private drabble or fanfic, then all bets are off, because that's different. But far more rare.

Tagged by: @valour-bound

Tagging: You see this? IM TAGGING YOU. Do it.

[romantic-reveries]

Just had a guy tell me he’s falling in love with me and like—is this what they mean by fuck around and find out?

It’s all so annoyingly serendipitous. He’s been weirdly good for me on the heels of B. He’s so verbally validating and affectionate. He’s this weird culmination of manifestations—I’d been wanting someone to fool around with who would dirty talk me straight out of my mind, and boom, there he was. It literally makes me feel drunk, and the orgasms? My god.

With B, we’d stay on the phone until we decided we were gonna sleep, and I would sometimes wish we could stay on the phone until we fell asleep—all night. Maybe wake up together. This one asked me to do that only a few days in. Something I’ve wanted—not specifically with B, but I did think about it with him—was one day with a partner, to read to each other. Read poetry or a book or something. And when B and I decided to have a two-person book club, I thought ‘maybe’. This one asked me if I wanted him to read to me within the first few nights, and recently, asked me to read to him. And he recited a poem to me from memory.

But he’s not what I would want for a relationship. Even if I weren’t still hung up on B, this one is so… emotionally tumultuous. I’ve worked so damn hard to heal and be better. I need a partner who is stable. I can’t fix someone, and I don’t want to have to. I deserve someone who has already done the fixing themselves. And this one tries—I have to give him that. He said part of what attracts him to me is that I’m so emotionally stable and level, which is… weirdly validating, but again, like a really weird fucking mirror of the situation with B. Like the other side of a coin, and now I’m the healthy one, observing myself in someone else’s body.

I went from wanting someone stable to being that to someone else. And this guy, he lives three hours further from me than B did, and yet he’s saying the drive is no big deal—that if we met, if we ended up dating, he’d come to me, or he’d come pick me up and bring me to stay with him for a week (which would be a 20 hour drive, all told, here and back twice.) That feels like an insane ask. Which, he just flew to Europe a few months ago to meet a girl he started dating online, so yeah, I guess—what’s five hours to him?

It’s just—so weirdly paralleled it’s fucking mind-boggling. And he reminds me a lot of me. A more unhealed version of me, with worse mood swings than I ever had, but the same struggles nonetheless. He even mentioned how he wants someone emotionally stable, which “maybe makes him sound like an asshole”, and maybe isn’t fair since he “has issues too” and I’ll be damned if that isn’t exactly what I’ve been thinking for myself lately. I even said as much to someone, that maybe it was unfair of me to feel that way since I have issues too, but I’ve worked so hard to heal.

And then I was talking with my grandma last night before bed, and I mentioned, realizing how much this guy likes me and I don’t feel insecure or anything except for the occasional moment when I suddenly feel very attached, how it’s all a perspective game based on old emotional patterns (unworthiness, mostly) that’s breeding those feelings of insecurity. It’s not about the other person, it’s about me. How I was drowning in it with B because I liked him so much it made me insecure and irrational. How I suddenly realized how much of what happened was kind of my fault for getting so in my head. Anyway, when I mentioned this guy having feelings for me, she said something to the effect of not wanting to lead him on, and I said I wasn’t, he knew how I felt, I’ve been very upfront, he’s even said he doesn’t know what he wants, etc etc.

Just to get on the phone with him and him drop that on me. The timing was uncanny.

I can’t help but feel like this was supposed to happen like this. Like I needed to learn from it, and I am.

I even had an insane epiphany about B after that conversation last night. I feel this sense of pattern more keenly than I ever have. I’ve often felt like a metaphorical ping pong ball, disorganized and bouncing all over the place. This is the first time it’s felt so methodical. Like there’s a method to this madness called life.

I realized with B, that while I thought I was being “realistic” about things in trying to keep myself safe, I actually was just running scared. I was feeling rejected and I wanted to cut things off before he could, because I felt so sure that he would. I didn’t feel good enough for him partly because I liked him so much (which always makes me insecure because it’s sort of putting someone on a pedestal), but also because he was so stable and put-together that it didn’t make sense to me for him to want me. I was afraid that if he changed his mind, having all of these great qualities that I admired, and knowing me probably better than anyone bar my grandma, that it would reaffirm that I wasn’t good enough. It wasn’t about him—it was about me. I’m accountable for my own feelings. But I made them his problem, and I assumed the worst of him based on past experiences with other people and that was excruciatingly unfair of me.

And I feel so light, realizing that. Because I haven’t really quite been able to flesh it out ‘til now. I knew I reacted how I did out of fear and because I didn’t feel good enough. But I couldn’t quite parse it out to that level and really understand it, and I do now, and it’s liberating and wonderful to know.

[razorsadness]

Early in the week I had a sexy dream about Laura Jane Grace, so I’ve been kinda obsessed with all things LJG since (not that that’s really anything new.)

I had a couple instances of my favorite radio station seemingly reading my mind. One evening, I’d been thinking about the Stooges song “Search & Destroy,” and it came on the radio. A couple days later, driving to the store, thinking about Joe Strummer, The Clash’s version of “I Fought the Law” came on.

I received good news on another of my dear ones’ health scares.

P. got a little depressed and grumpy, as he always does around the holidays.

Thanksgiving sucked, as it pretty much always does. The food was good, that’s the best thing I can say about it. C. woke up way too early so he was cranky, my parents had some big argument about how long to cook the turkey because they are incapable of getting through a holiday (or really any day, but holidays are worse) without some kind of bickering, their moods made C.’s mood worse, he had a meltdown, the stress gave me a phlegm attack.

So, yeah, being around my parents and their dysfunctional dynamics literally made me physically ill. God, it’s no wonder I’m so fucked up and have such a hard time being calm with my kids. At least I am determined to work on my shit, to not repeat all my parent’s mistakes, and when I do make a mistake I let my kids know it was my fault and not theirs. It’s a difficult process and I fuck up a lot, but at least I am trying.

I’ve started taking stock of 2022. I always have a tendency to think I didn’t do anything in any given year (meaning: in terms of my vocations and avocations, and in terms of just living my life.) But then, when I look back on the year, I usually find I did more than I’d initially thought.

So: one of my poems was performed by the Racine Concert band. I had a poem published in Fine Print, which they nominated for a Pushcart Prize. Someone put one of my older poems as a result in a uQuiz. I wrote a bunch of poems for NaPoWriMo, one of which was featured on the official NaPo website. I got to conduct an interview with one of my all-time favorite writers, and write a review of her book, and had those and a story published on the website of one of my other favorite writers. I wrote a brand-new chapbook, and Scumbag Press published it. Wisconsin Death Trip is almost totally sold out, and I may have to go into a second printing. Someone I know has been teaching some of the poems from it in the poetry class she teaches, and someone else I know bought a bunch of copies and he’s going to read/discuss it with his poetry book club. He told me that it’s the type of book he thinks will stand the test of time; he said it’s both such a perfect record of experience and an experience unto itself that it will still be relevant ten, twenty, thirty years from now. I published two zines, including a brand-new issue of Reckless Chants (the first full-length issue since 2019!) I started putting the finishing touches on a revised edition of WWTAWWTAP. I’m nearing the end of NaNoWriMo, and I’ve been working on my novella, the Chicago novella I’ve been trying to write for years, and I’m going to surpass my personal goal of 15,000 words. It won’t be done-done by December 1—I keep thinking of more to add and some of what’s in it right now will ultimately be taken out—but I am finally getting it down and it feels really good.

I’ve written a ton, actually, both poetry and prose—some of it hasn’t been published yet, some of it will probably never be published—but either way, I have written.

Yesterday, C. said to me: “Mom, you’ve written so many things! You’re rich in writing.” I thought he was talking about making money from it, and I said: “Oh, well, I haven’t made that much money from it.” He said: “No, I mean, you’re rich in writing, because there’s so much of it.” Then he said: “And you’re rich in art, too, because you’ve made a lot. And so am I! I make art all the time!” I nearly wept. What a beautiful way of looking at it. Even if we make no money from it, even if no one else ever sees it, I am rich in art and writing.

I made a ton of art. I got commissioned for a couple collages. One of my pieces is currently in an art show sponsored by an actual art museum. I published a few Bone & Ink Press titles and kept the press alive, despite all the difficulties. I made some short films, recorded some spoken word tracks, participated in some zine and poetry readings, tabled at a zine fest, made a podcast. I started playing accordion again. I’ve already got things lined up for the early part of 2023: the January 2023 edition of BONK! Performance Series, which I am both curating and performing in; the Woodland Pattern Poetry Marathon; and an opportunity to teach a group of high school kids about writing and performing poetry.

I kept my family and myself alive, despite some bouts of serious illness and the worsening of some of my disabilities (both mental and physical). I hustled for work and side-gigs and got some help from some kind people, and always managed to make ends meet. I homeschooled two kids. P. and I kept the spark alive in our relationship, even when it was tough. I quit smoking, started again, and am now on track to quit again. (And I am proud of myself despite the slip-ups; it’s a hard fucking addiction to kick, but I consider every cigarette I don’t smoke a win.) I read a lot of books. I cooked a lot of good food. I hung out with some friends—not as often as I would have liked, due to life’s responsibilities + this endless pandemic, but still more than I have since 2019. I took a couple few-day/night trips to Door County, a handful of day trips (Kenosha, Milwaukee, Beloit, Chicago), and had a lot of adventures close to home—long walks around my ‘hood, park visits, beach bummin’, hangin’ downtown, and hella trips to the library.

Yesterday, the library had a Black Friday event. They couldn’t have their usual fall sale due to renovations, so yesterday they did a thing where you could buy a bag for $5 and cram as much as you could fit into it. We filled two bags, and got a bunch of stuff, including a bunch of astronomy books and magazines for C. and some Christmas classics for the whole family and some mystery novels for P., and I got a book of poetry, a book of short stories, two memoirs, an art book, and a Blu-Ray disc of Sin City. It was awesome, and definitely the only Black Friday sale I would ever go to.

Today I’ve been listening to a lot of trip-hop and abstract/instrumental hip-hop. I did yoga this morning. I read some poems, did some novella-writing. I did a bunch of loads of laundry and started packing. C. and I worked on an art project, and there was an…incident…with some gold paint and it ended up in my hair and all over my face, so I took a shower. I was craving a fried egg & cheese sandwich like I used to get from the food carts in Philly every winter, so I made some for lunch. C. and I took a long walk at golden hour, picked up nature treasures; I showed him the way seed pods can make good percussion instruments. Now, P. is cooking dinner, I’m having a drink, soon I’ll be tuning in to this month’s edition of BONK!. Tomorrow, we head up to Door County for our final northwoods visit of 2022.

[may-bonne]

Sorry I'm basically blowing up your inbox today 👉👈

I know a few of the Mrod blogs on here were femslashy. Especially when she was dating Cara. If it wasn't about them, it was about Rain and Alice or Luz and Miss San Antonio. The het stuff definitely dominated though and it was definitely Vin's fault. Part of me is now morbidly curious about that poetry

Ahhh I have a rant locked and loaded for the majority of Mrod's movies. That outfit was terrible! I HATE when writers think motherhood has to completely soften and suck the personality out of character. It's always a blouse or a cardigan I swear to god. It's not a big surprise that female characters in a series about zooming cars around get the short end of the stick but that doesn't make it any less annoying. Elena having Dom's baby instead of Letty is one of the less stupid decisions imo. I'll have to skim back through F9 again to get my thoughts all back in order brb with that full rant. Fuck Hobbs and Shaw why can't we have a true Letty and Mia focused flick!!

Yeeessshh no worries. I was born the year Girlfight came out ✌️ Talk about Frank's cock all you want

That clothing line would be a problem for my wallet I'm not sure it could handle. The interviews were generally a little painful but I must have watched most of them anyway

The nice thing about the Resident Evil series is that most of the fandom now is femslash because Alice has homoerotic tension with at least one character in every movie. There's a part in the third film where she blatantly checks out Claire Redfield's ass when she walks away and she runs across a room to pet Rain's hair to comfort her in the first one. Quality cinema

don't you dare apologize!! i'm hanging on the telephone. i never realized how much tumblr asks could resemble my preferred method of communication (long rambling emails) and i've had a hard time getting people irl to do that instead of just texting me :/

the mrod poems were written by "bryan s. coe" (who i just googled and discovered is perhaps a digital marketing strategist in detroit these days). the two i still have links to are titled "poem to a hottie on a zip line" and "euphemistic poem to a woman with sub-machine gun" and are about nikki from breed and chris from s.w.a.t. respectively. i feel this stanza from the second one needs to be shared:

while everyone takes cover and protects their body i spy around the corner and see a special weapons hottie those sure are some special "weapons," wouldn't you say kind of appropriate that s.w.a.t. ends with a t and an a!

and it goes on in that vein. extensively. i mean, come on, dude. the meter is all off!! you need to cut "and see" from the second line and "that" from the fourth. also that is a very liberal definition of "euphemistic"

i like the idea of just generally defining time in mrod movies. *guy living in a dystopian future where that's all that remains of our civilization voice* "yeah my great great grandmother was born the year girlfight came out"

personally i thought i got blue crush but that's 2002 :/

i agree that they were right not to knock letty up. the only tragic part is i think she's probably too old to play pregnant now and i would have liked to see that just as fuel for some letty/mia fantasies :(( i can't even imagine what they would have dressed her in. considering you would think mia's 75% sundress wardrobe would be pretty transferable to maternity clothes and they still put her in that ruffled yellow abomination

i kind of wish it hadn't even been dom's kid though. like wouldn't that have been more in keeping with the family-goes-beyond-blood thing? dom could have still done all that crazy crap to rescue elena and her baby. i also hate elena dying. i really did not like fate of the furious in general and it didn't have mia so what was the point anyway. i kind of recognize that objectively f9 might have been the nadir of the franchise but it gave us letty and mia's tokyo dinner date so i'll always love it

also mia going in for the hug just grinning like hey! letty! it's great to see you! and then it cuts to letty, like, closing her eyes and huffing the scent of her hair. baby this is why in my head you've been hung up on her for decades

they need to do a mia & letty spinoff and i feel like there's no way it's actually going to happen. vin's too much of an egotist he would shove himself in there to present himself as the king of feminism or something and then the movie would just be his big dumb head like always. i'm holding out hope they'll kill him in the last movie for pathos but it's probably in his contract that they aren't allowed to

last note on f9 is that i love how after all that backpatting for finally having the gals share a scene it STILL doesn't pass the bechdel test because they exclusively talk about han, brian, jacob, dom, and little brian in that order. i do like when mia says "you'll always be my sister." i hope letty got off to that furiously and guiltily in the shower and then cried

don't even get me started on how the franchise butchers mia. my whole ao3 presence is basically a 750,000-word manifesto on how badly i think they screwed her over. i'm not even asking for that much but just let her be a fucking doctor you'd think with eleven million bucks she could afford to go to med school

[ashleeanderson14]

I wrote a poem for school when I was 16. I was at my peak sadness. Sadness I would love to grasp too as it’s nothing compared to the life I live today. I decided to finally share it, please be kind.

Loosing him

Losing you hurts and i’m not going to pretend it doesn’t. Losing you feels like losing a limb. Losing you feels like choosing drowning over a life raft because i know eventually, i have to learn how to swim. Losing you feels like watching all five fingers grow numb instead of wearing a coat. I could choose you. I could come running back into your arms and you would hug me back.... i hope.

You want to be friends. I want to, losing you hurts and i’m not going to pretend it doesn’t. losing you feels like losing a limb. Losing you feels like choosing drowning over a life raft because I know eventually, i have to learn how to swim. losing you feels like watching all five fingers grow numb instead of wearing a coat. I could choose you. I could come running back into your arms and you would hug me back, but you can’t make this better.

You want to be friends. I want to, too. but being friends with you comes with too much pain. Too many i love yous i have to swallow. Too many memories that keep resurfacing and resurfacing and resurfacing. Too many thoughts of how , you like me, but not enough to want me. Too many feelings of never being good enough. All i ever wanted was to be good enough, but not for just anyone. For you. Your approval meant everything to me.

God, you were all sunshine and then you were rain. You were a thunderstorm heart and hurricane lungs, but to say i loved every second of it wouldn’t even come close to admitting how much i loved it. The chaos. The i love you so badly my heart is bleeding out of my chest. The i will wait up all night just for you to tell me how beautiful i am. The i will wait up all night just for you to tell me i’m gonna be okay when i’m feeling so low, i cannot breathe. The staying up until 4 a.m. missing your skin. crying because you’re not with me. Crying because my chest feels empty without you. (imagine how i feel now.) the poems. The poems. The poems. The way being with you felt like poetry. Raw sex, Raw feelings, raw bruised and bloody lips stained red. Vulnerability. To be wanted by you was amazing, even through the pain.

I became addicted to it because it made the good days that much better. Your lips on my neck. Your hands on my heart. Your voice. Laughing. Talking. Telling me you love me. Over and over again until i believed it. The way you’d drive your friends around for free. The way you’d stay up all night if it meant i didn’t kill myself. I miss every part about you. I thought you were the most amazing person this world had to offer. I really did. I wanted you to know strong love, my love, for the rest of your life because i knew you deserved it.

When you left me without saying goodbye, put your head on her chest at night while we were still dating, getting hickies from different girls every night, sleeping with my best friend when we were still together, my whole world started crumbling. How am i supposed to feel when the most perfect person in the world does something so bad, i can’t even get out of bed without wanting to die? How am i supposed to trust someone ever again when even the most perfect person has trouble staying loyal to me? What is wrong with me? What was wrong with us? What could i have done to make you stay? I would have done anything, i swear to god.

So yeah, to say losing you hurts would really be an understatement. so yeah, a lot of days, i’m just waiting for the day to end so i can sleep off the exhaustion of getting through another day without you. So yeah, i do a lot of things just so i’ll forget how your voice sounds: i hang out with my friends and do my schoolwork and eat dinner with my family and i don’t bring you up.

So yeah, someday i’ll move on and find somebody who treats me better, but i’ll still remember how it felt to love you. So yeah, you didn’t choose me, you chose her. And maybe a part of me is fucking livid, just like i should be.

But more of me hopes you’re happy. because all of me loves you. All of me always will. I know you’re still that perfect person, deep down inside of you.. but being friends with you comes with too much pain. Too many i love yous i have to swallow. Too many memories that keep resurfacing and resurfacing and resurfacing. Too many thoughts of god, you like me, but not enough to want me. too many feelings of never being good enough. All i ever wanted was to be good enough, but not for just anyone. For you. Your approval meant everything to me.

You were all sunshine and then you were rain. you were a thunderstorm heart and hurricane lungs, but to say i loved every second of it wouldn’t even come close to admitting how much i loved it.

I miss every part about you. I thought you were the most amazing person this world had to offer. I really did. I wanted you to know strong love, my love, for the rest of your life because i knew you deserved it. And ya it’s painful to say goodbye someone you don’t want to let go, but more painful to ask someone to stay when you know they want to leave.

So yeah, to say losing you hurts would really be an understatement. I really do still want you in my life. Just sometimes, like last night i need time. And i do love you. I just don't know what to do right now. All I know is I want you and only you. I believe that we can’t be extraordinary together, rather than ordinary apart. I just need you to see this.

I want you, I miss you and of course I love you. I promise I always will!