#no words only introspection]

[voltaical-art]

im in agony. a little self indulgent but I think wyll deserves to be told he's loved and have a small breakdown about it

[steinwayandhissons]

arctic monkeys and every time the word ‘love’ is mentioned

whatever people say I am that’s what I’m not

tonight there’ll be some love, tonight there’ll be a ruckus yeah regardless of what’s gone before

~ view from the afternoon

oh there ain’t no love, no montagues or capulets

~ i bet you look good on the dancefloor

all that’s left is the proof that love’s not only blind but deaf… yeah I’d love to tell you all my problem

~ fake tales of san francisco

she makes a subtle proposition, I’m sorry love I’ll have to turn you down

~ when the sun goes down

lady, where has your love gone, i was looking but can’t find it anywhere, they always offer when there’s loads of love around but when you’re short of some it’s nowhere to be found

~ no buses

well how can you wake up with someone you don’t love and not feel slightly phased by it

~ leave before the lights come on

favourite worst nightmare

it’s wrong wrong wrong but we’ll do it anyway cause we love a bit of trouble

~ balaclava

and those dreams weren’t as daft as they seem, aren’t as daft as they seem my love

~ fluorescent adolescent

there’s room for the trouble and there’s lovers to be had

~ this house is a circus

it’d be a big mistake for you to wait and let me waste your time, really love it’s fine, I said really love it’s fine

~ the bad thing

old yellow bricks, love’s a risk… houdini love you don’t know what you’re running away from

~ old yellow bricks

another roll around and another push and shove, further away from the idea of love

~ da frame 2r

the more you keep on looking the more it’s hard to take, love we’re in stalemate… you’re slacking love where have you been

~ the bakery

am I too quick to assume that the love is no longer in bloom

~ too much to ask

humbug

i had a hole in the pocket of my favourite coat and my love dropped into the lining

~ i haven’t got my strange

suck it and see

i wanna feel your love brick by brick

~ brick by brick

do you still feel love is a laserquest or do you take it all more seriously… when I’m not being honest I pretend that you were just some lover

~ love is a laserquest

your love is like a studded leather headlock

~ suck it and see

jealousy in technicolour, fear by name, love by numbers… crushing up a bundle of love

~ that’s where you’re wrong

before she showed you how to shake love’s steady hand

~ the blonde o sonic shimmer trap

your love’s not what I need, so don’t give it to me

~ evil twin

am

it’s not like I’m falling in love I just want you to do me no good… the look of love, the rush of blood

~ no.1 party anthem

love buckles under the strain of those wild nights

~ mad sounds

I heard that you fell in love, or near enough

~ snap out of it

love like locked horns, love like dominoes… love like thunder, love like falling snow

~ electricity

I know you’re nothing like mine cause she’s walking on sunshine and your love would tear us apart

~ you’re so dark

tranquility base hotel and casino

love came in a bottle with a twist off cap, let’s all have a swig and do a hot lap… but it’s alright, cause you love me

~ star treatment

when true love takes a grip it leaves you without a choice

~ golden trunks

pattern language in the mood for love

~ the world’s first ever monster truck front flip

I wanna stay with you my love, the way some science fiction does

~ science fiction

the dawn won’t stop weighing a tonne, I’ve done some things that I shouldn’t have done, but I haven’t stopped loving you once

~ the ultracheese

the car

lights out on the wonder park, your saw toothed lover boy was quick off the mark

~ jet skis on the moat

put your heavy metal to the test, there might be half a love song in it all for you

~ mr schwartz

[florenceafternoon]

war shows character and James Potter proved his

[fruitsyrups]

I think it's so interesting to think about the unique social implications of things on the islands. Like, the animal hats & how they originally existed for the practical purpose of protection & they kept wearing them even after that wasn't a factor anymore. & how the hats we see in the present day (when Finn & co visit the islands) don't really resemble animal hats, do they? & maybe that's just to make the significant human characters (who do still wear animal hats) seem more distinct but you best believe I'm going to make it into something bigger. Oh I'm so bad at putting my thoughts into words but it's something how the hats evolved into a new meaning. & when robo susan rips friedas hat off its like a very violating moment. Something something hats, the lack thereof, vulnerability. I don't know. Sorry. I was going somewhere with this but I don't know how to explain it. You get it though. Hats are interesting.

I like to think that (when everyone got sick and lots of them died and the rest moved to a new island) there was a bunch of small shifts & the animal -> abstract hats was one of them. And Frieda still wearing her dog hat shows her still holding onto the past in some way. There we go, that's something. This isn't a total nothing post after all

[creationsabyss]

Anemoia (How Long Will You Reach For The Ghosts Of Distant Stars?)

They could see the stars tonight, bright splatters of light across the shadows of the sky. They don't really know why they decided to come out here, so far from the comfort of their little cottage, but they don't want to return, not yet at least. Wrapped in their cloak, they nestle themselves into the trunk of an old, hollowed out tree as they crane their neck upwards. The stars flicker and blink down at them, almost as if they were waving a hello. A ridiculous thought they don't mind entertaining as they raise their own hand to wave back. Maybe they are a bit of a fool, but they never claimed to be wise in the first place.

This reminds them of dreams they could have sworn they had forgotten, the wisps of names and faces that linger on their tongue even as the memories faded from their mind. They could almost feel the leathery skin underneath their fingertips, the sharp edges of scales too big. The blooming feeling of awe as feather and fur alike curl around their shoulders. Even the whistling winds, rustling through leaves and grass, remind them of the songs they used to sing, the lyrics long forgotten. Not quite unexpectedly, it hurts. Aching something fierce and bold in their chest, that forces tears to well in their eyes. Logically, they know it's silly to cry over something they can barely remember, over something that the world doesn't remember existing. At least, not in this life.

But they don't swallow down the sob that leaves their throat nor wipe away the iridescent tears that fall from their eyes. They don't mind the chill that seeps into their chest as their tears soak through the thin fabric of their shirt, far too busy watching the stars drift across the skies. They think, at first, only distantly, that they can see the twisting shapes of long serpentine bodies and billowing wings. They swear they can hear the timber of voices overlapped, the shadows of all too human bodies that they should know but can't quite remember. They wonder if they can miss people that don't exist.

They wonder if these memories are what drives them away from the people, the connections, of this earth. Star child, they remember their grandmother whispering to them in the late hours of the night. You are loved, they remember her murmuring to them every day from then on. They remember clinging to her feeble form as she spun tales of mystical beasts and stories of man made gods. Rivers to a lake, spiraling into the deep caverns underneath, hoarding knowledge underneath their silence. They wonder if there was some truth to her tales after all.

Star child, that name, title they suppose, has haunted them throughout their entire life. They wonder if it is why they can taste lightning on their tongue even when the skies are clear, if it is why they can feel the brittle-snap of thunder between their teeth. They wonder if it is why frost cradles their skin even when hearth-warm fire curls in their chest, the duality often leaving them sick and bedridden. Wildfires spark to life, just shy of burning and charring the vulnerable flesh of their heart. That coil around their ribcage and rumble as though the earth was quaking under a cat's quiet purr. All the while, ice forms at the base of their throat, encircling their arms like sharp shackles. They don't mind the chill, even when it hurts to speak. They welcome the frost and the cold, wrapping themselves in snow to stave off the constant heat.

They suppose it is, just like the winds that push for them to wander the world. A wanderlust unseen in their family, where others root themselves into the soil, they take to the skies. Following where the breeze and the gales blow them, the peaks of snow-capped mountains and the depths of oceans. Their body is not meant for travel, frail from the war that wages inside them. But it's not as if they could stop. They ache for the road, to chase after the stars as if they could someday reach up to pluck them from the skies. Their only real companion over the years, the feel of coiled bodies in the palm of their hand and the sound of an echoing roar in their ears.

Sometimes, they still expect a tail to curl itself around their legs even though the creature that tail is connected to only resides in their dreams. They still turn and expect to see the divine tipped claws of monsters, to have to tip their head back to speak to looming shadows of those they should know and still somewhat do, even if they haven't met them yet. Their disappointment when all that greets them is silence and emptiness is often crushing and immeasurable, inconsolable grief that drapes across their shoulders like a dark veil. Those days, they spend their time inside, away from the sun and the stars, away from the gaze of the people that stare and stare. They spend those days painting and writing, over and over, trying to capture the faces and forms of their companions they so desperately want to remember.

But it never looks quite right. Something is always wrong, always off. Failure is a bitter thing to swallow, it tastes of bile and blood and tainted honor. It is the shattering of pride, the sting of human hubris that leads them to bury their half written journals and messily sketched paintings. It is what forces them to grip the few pieces of their memories close, cradling their dreams like the most precious of treasures. Long fluttering scarves and cloaks, flowing fabrics that hide the invisible pouches of chiming bells and glimmering scales. Though they carry little on their journey, they can't help but feel an anchor's weight on their shoulders, Atlas heavy. A worthwhile price for the imaginary companions that drive away the loneliness, even if they do still want to feel the steady heartbeat underneath their hands.

Star child, they muse to themselves, it grows more fitting by the year. Stardust in their veins and the world at their fingertips, it is only a matter of time before they will be cradled in the careful coils of their once lost companions, one way or another.

@n0tamused

[reminiscentrainclouds]

Tried to write a train of thought comic script thing for practice or something and it quickly diverged into some form of philosophical free verse poetry. That's like the only thing I can do, it seems.

[juliareed]

Fandom: Alias Relationships: Sark/Sydney Song: Spiracle by Flower Face Content warnings: Blood, death, violence, spiders, insects, flashing lights

[iniziare]

Tag drop: Guizhong (don't mind me re-dropping this with the fixed ones, shh)

[limitlessscion]

February 6th 2008. Kyoto prefecture, Sakyo ward. Gojo Clan estate

The clan had scrambled to prepare for the unannounced visit of their young scion, who'd simply arrived and declared a meeting of whatever prominent members were currently present at the estate. Some might note that he took the seat at the head of the audience chamber as servants scrambled and various clan members trickled in, slouched with his elbow against his knee propping up his face with a fist.

Karasu didn't show any hesitation upon the sight to take his usual defensive position just to the side and behind that seat reserved for the head of the clan, but he shot apprehensive glances at the young boy. The challenge was clear as day; Satoru had never been a subtle child. Everything quieted as another demanding presence made his entrance, the clan head Masato striding in with his head held high and a forced calm informing every step that took him up to the spot that was his by right.

"What is the meaning of this?"

He knew; they all knew. Satoru didn't meet the old man's eyes through his darkened glasses, his face scanning past him as if looking for someone in the crowd; a deliberate disrespect, Karasu knew. The boy didn't need to look for anything.

"I'm relieving you of your duty. Thank you for taking care of business in my absence, but now— buzz off. I'm taking my rightful place."

Karasu had never in his long life seen the old man freeze up as he did just now, lips twitching as if struggling to form words that his brain couldn't formulate. A few second passes and Satoru shifted out of his lazy relaxed stance on his seat, leaning forward and finally fixing his eyes on the elder's as the entire atmosphere of the room changed. For all who could sense the presence of cursed energy it suddenly became hard to even breathe, a weight settling on every one of them so suddenly and with such force that a few people cried out in surprise, and Karasu's hand twitched to draw his knife.

Few people understood what true power meant. Karasu's eyes widened as his gaze was drawn to young Satoru as it was for everyone else in the room, as realization hit that he had simply let go of the control over his cursed energy output. That was it. The message to the previous head of the clan was loud and clear: fight me for the position, or get out. He was every bit the weapon the clan had hoped to create and more.

Stiffly, the old man bowed, then retreated.

The pressure in the room lifted instantly, like the flick of a light switch. Karasu took a breath for the first time in what felt like minutes, the display of sheer control from the boy grabbing back onto his power just as impressive as the overwhelming weight of it.

"Karasu Hoshino and Minoru Gojo— you two, stay. Everyone else, you're dismissed."

The room buzzed with confusion and apprehension as it slowly emptied, some moving out in a hurry as if afraid of hat would happen if they lingered, while others slowed their exit as if trying to catch some whispers of what must be future upheavals. Karasu met eyes with Minoru as the room shrunk down to the presence of just the three of them.

Satoru hopped onto his feet, gesturing for the two of them to join him and they did. The boy stretched, pacing on the spot, and clearly not as comfortable seated down had he had appeared. "You two are the only ones I can trust around here. I just needed to make sure of that."

Satoru suddenly spun on the spot to face the old guard, and Karasu stopped obediently just behind, not missing a single beat. It's only been three years since he'd been at the young boy's side night day, responsible for his safety, and that old role came easy to him.

"Karasu-sama," the boy regarded him carefully for a moment, and even Karasu wasn't sure what to read behind those too-dark lenses. Three long years had changed the boy a lot. "With the full authority of the Gojo clan, I hereby relieve you of all existing vows you hold with us."

There was power in those words, cursed energy poured with intent and Karasu's eyes widened in shock. Binding vows decades old shattered their hold on him as a reckless grin crossed the young boy's face as if pleased with himself that he'd guessed something right. The chains holding Karasu down had been a secret, one meant to restrain his power, keep him a secret from the world outside the clan; to ensure his loyalty. He felt dazed without the weight of them; he'd long been content to take those chains with him to his grave.

"Okay, now get out."

Karasu blinked at the sudden command, then a smile split across his own face. "Sorry kiddo, I don't gotta follow your orders anymore."

The boy's grin softened with approval, then turned to face Minoru. The woman stood straight and proper, not sparing even a glance at the drama that had unfolded just at her side. Satoru considered her for a long moment. "I don't know if it's wise to actually trust you, but you've always been on my side haven't you?"

Karasu recalls the days before Satoru had left for Tokyo against the wishes of the clan, when the young boy had pulled rank on old Masato to everyone's surprise. For all his life the boy had been kept blind to the real power he held within the clan itself, believing himself to be subject to the head's every whim just like everyone else. Someone had breached that unspoken rule and informed the young heir just how much influence he really had; Karasu now had an inkling now who had done such a thing, it'd explain why Masato had been alienating his previously favourite assistant since.

"It's natural for me to want only the best for you," she stated neutrally.

Satoru nodded. "I choose to take that at face value for now. I don't have many people I can rely on; I'll need both of you with me."

It was kind of a marvel seeing the boy standing face to face with Minoru, who returned his gaze steadily and at equal heights. His brilliant blues matched deep chestnuts that drew the same sharp lines.

At that moment it was hard not to see the resemblance between mother and son.

"Right then!" Satoru clapped his hands together eager, breaking that single fragile moment and spinning once again to head for the door. "Let's get to work!"

[unsightlymuse]

“Literature is my Utopia. Here I am not disenfranchised. No barrier of the senses shuts me out from the sweet, gracious discourses of my book friends. They talk to me without embarrassment or awkwardness.”

-Helen Keller, The Story of My Life

[clowndarling]

when i finish this second chapter of my fic it’s over for yall

[tokencisgirl]

sometimes i interact with people on here that i dont know personally but that i am Aware of and seem hot platonically/i want to be their friend real bad but i have no idea if they're Rockin Wit Me so i feel like this

interacting with them and giving them the opportunity to search 'incest' or 'fiction' or 'loli' on my blog and decide if they want to immediately block me and show me that This was doomed from the start or to allow an entry for the most based most yucky friendship to bloom.

[nevermindset]

Are you alive or just existing?

- Unknown.

[acanthemp3]

does anyone else feel like whenever they make art out of their own experiences theyre just lying

[condemnedtragedy]

tag drop.

[poetrydied]

tags.