#i wrote a poem about them

[taniscentral]

certified nic silver/cameron ellis shipper

[shepscapades]

[Part 1] [PART 2] [Part 3]

The unexpected return of a face Xisuma never thought he'd see again.

[sunwayholm]

He just misses his husband T-T

[poemsonmars]

grief is fucking terrifying.

it covers everything in

such a massive layer of pain.

of confusion. of rage.

i can't breathe through it.

one minute i'm sitting in

my childhood bedroom

and the next, i can't see.

i wave my hand in front of my face

and no one greets me in return.

i don't know who i am without her.

-mars

[swearingcactus]

and he helped, and bled, and away he fled, with all the knack of a stardust speck. //little v as a cryptid story the nomads tell around the fireplace

[shrimpricebowl]

brrrrboard

[shuuenka]

'the one without the other, half as fair'

[tortured-poet-of-thursday]

castiel “family that i chose now that i see your brother as my brother” and dean “is it enough if i can never give you peace?” winchester

[saturfied]

the charm.

cherry lips, honey eyes, strawberry blond, you're stuck in my mind sharp nose, curly hair, pretty hands, lost in your care two souls yin & yang, third is the charm the balance in scales the middle - to the start and end, love is a tragedy with one less there not a (third) wheel but complete, with them life's pretty sweet :)

(authors note: regulus writing about jily in a jegulily au *not 100% accurate so please forgive me)

[canisalbus]

Hi um, I know you're cool with fanart, but would fanfic of Vasco and Machete be okay and if so can we tag you when we finish it? 👉👈 Weeeeee... kinda wanna write like a BILLION words about these two from seeing all your art and canon about them.

-Stars system

Absolutely! I love seeing other people's interpretations of Vasco and Machete and I'd consider it an honor if they inspired you enough to want to write something about them. If you do, tag me or dm me a link please, I wouldn't want to miss it.

[ilovedthestars]

here's the thing. yes, some pieces of art are "better" than others. there are many criteria you can measure that with--technical skill, creativity, clarity, conceptual depth, successful execution of the artist's intentions, etc., and i do think it's useful to clarify which ones you're using as a measuring stick. but like, of course you can evaluate art. of course you can be critical (in the "art critic" sense) of art. (among other things, that's one of the most important ways to get better at making art yourself.)

however. when it comes down to evaluating what gets to count as art. what art even gets to have a seat at the table. i will go to bat for the thing that isn't as "good" every single time.

you can say you think a piece of art is bad. you can say you think it lacked technical skill, or clarity, or conceptual depth, and you consider those important elements of a successful work. i might even agree with you. but if you think that means it doesn't matter, someone is going to die on this hill and it isn't going to be me

[dootznbootz]

Odypen definitely and equivalently adore each other BUT I weirdly can't see them as the type to actually say "I Love you".

They still definitely vocalize their love for each other but it's more so in "My Joy", and "Extraordinary Woman", "Strange Woman/Man", etc. And very cheesy lines (both say some cheesy shit in the Odyssey, and he definitely does in the Iliad as well. "Joy like a drowning sailor seeing land" bit???)

I could see "I adore you" but even then, that's probably during very specific moments but the actual "I love you"??? I just typed it just now for fic shit and... It weirdly just didn't feel right and I don't know why. 😅

Idk maybe it's kind of because I see them as over the top in ways, they love wordplay and riddles and I think they'd almost think "...That's not good enough >:( " about it??? I don't know???😂

[milkyspine]

[northern-passage]

i wrote a 500 word dynamic poem for neo-twiny jam :-)

i rewrote this in a few different ways with a handful of different drafts before settling on just doing a poem; this originally came from a full branching narrative i've had stewing for a while, and i might come back to it one day. but for now i enjoyed channeling that into this poem, which has also been very influenced by the fact that i've been writing hungry vampires for almost 2 months now.... it was also my first time messing with audio in twine, which ended up being way easier than i expected (i'm sure it helped that i only used one audio sample tho)

faith does contain sexual content, and while not super explicit, it is the main theme of the poem.

anyways hope you enjoy and check out the other entries here!

[esoterichermetic]

(paula)

It’s been twelve years since I’ve set foot on this sacred ground The best days of my life were spent here Amounting, in total, to just about a year I walk up from the road, see you smoking a cigarette There in your truck, not a day has passed.

“Our son is in the box” shatters my halcyon The lid is the color of your eyes. “Do you wanna see him?” You tell me that you’ve got plans And our boy will be remembered I don’t want to see, I think it will break me But I’m so proud of you He got his eyes from you And his adoration of you from me

Cool Novembers in your treehouse, our hideaway Almost like That 70s Show Directed by Wes Anderson Written by Quentin Tarantino A little space heater in the corner Multi-colored throw rug on the floor Gods of chaos and creation reside here

I don’t remember the first time I made love But I remember holding you there on that rug Looking into your eyes And I’ve been lost since vessel adrift in a sea of cerulean Any illusion of grandiosity I had crumbled to ash “The neighbors complained, we had to tear it down” Repurposed lumber has the potential to create Or rot next to the pool

You invited me to swim one august “Which bikini looks better? Black or red?” I said black, you picked red Red looked better Water almost as soft as your touch, slowly rolling against my chest Pulse pounding in my eardrums While you kiss me Your hand on the back of my neck And in my shorts Mine on your cheek and hips

This is heaven

I found myself damned when once again Streams of reality came through The plastic sheeting pretending To be a sliding glass door “The house settled and the glass just broke one night. No one knew it was under that much stress” One must be aware by now Long term settling often leads to some kind of break

But metaphor was never my fortè So to drive the point home I broke my ring finger just before leaving.

Does life imitate art?

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

I don't know how to write this without it being horribly obvious who I'm writing about