#not sure this poem is good

[priceprime]

Everyone's got blood

And everyone's got a childhood

The writing is on the wall

And it's finger painted.

I met a girl once that told me

The hands are connected to the heart,

But mine were always unsteady

And I didn't want to admit that she was right.

My fingers smell like fruitsnacks

Instead of iron like they should.

A promise of something long lost

I could almost swear I taste it.

When I felt like my hands were ready

I scrawled out my old address

Prodigal, it weighs like a collar

Still the road at home is always called boudier

More home than ever

After we've all moved away.

[sentientsky]

“i could fix him”, “i could make him worse”. yeah, well, I could meet him at the genesis of the universe, where the spaces between matter first gain sentience, and spark and spit their way into being—where the cradle of stars first take on a definitive kind of gravity and heat. I could be the engineer of creation. I could ask a question. I could stand across from him on a battlefield, trembling and reeking of ichor. I could hit the ground retching, all the bones in my body turning brackish and oil-slicked. I could lurch my way into a new world, a recalibration of reality in which I only know kindness as a set of snapping jaws, as a thing to flinch away from. I could meet him in the garden, then, when the air's all hyacinth and dripping gold. And I could ache. Oh, how I could ache. I could follow him through every wretched moment of history. I could trail after him like a hollow-eyed dog. I could hide my irises, could hide the brutal bloodiness of an all-too-human heart. I could hold the gun as I pretend not to pray, as I taste bile and will my hands to steadiness. I could trust him. And I could ache. I could bite my tongue, cypher the words in my mouth, gnash them between jagged teeth. I could swallow my heart. I could go slower. I could meet him at the end of the world, when hope claws its way up my throat, hungry and keening like a treacherous thing.

I could kiss him with six thousand years of want lodged and breaking in the mausoleum of my chest. I could hand him the blade; I could let him twist the knife. I could be forgiven. And still I could ache.

[knifeforkspooncup]

Honestly @chernozemm 's art has got me clawing at the walls lately (always), and my mind keeps coming back to this post specifically.

So I wrote a lil poem inspired by it and the ox rib scene in general because, I mean, come on.

----- Filthy poem under the cut! Beware! -----

[arielluva]

utena and witch

(based off of this, which i unfortunately do not know the original artist of, sadly)

[johnslittlespoon]

You're A Dog (I'm Your Man)

Ch. 3/7 – 'When I Call, You Come Home (A Bird In Your Teeth)'

[WC: 13K | Gale Cleven/John Egan, Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Requited Unrequited Love]

John Egan loves like a dog.

[AO3 LINK]

[julykings]

defined by our togetherness, we could make up a Venn diagram in the shower steam, onomatopoeic joining with a slurp or vacuum seal sound as our tummies fuse and we breathe through the same mouth one out + one in to joint lungs. maybe then we'd have to stop smoking and let those gaps of our lip corners veil in vining plants. we do everything anyway. roll around in the afternoon like everyone should have the chance to, then fall asleep sweating. even September knows that lovers should sweat.

iloveyou iloveyou iloveyou tongues, necks, armpits, taste of the jelly bean deodorant, leg muscle, head pushing, spitting when we are called to. but also when we wander our bod(y)(ies) through the grocery store, tamed and showered, our domestic deciding between apple varieties is some cosmic thing, cleaning out the fridge expansive, reality tv shared between our welded eyeballs a gift of the universe aligning right, us overlapping, even on this little couch.

[bumblee27]

I wrote a thing for the Five Words Friday challenge run by I believe @whickberstreetwriters :D

-

A single drop of ink meets paper,

Quill poised mid-air

How to form into words, these feelings

I can't bear to leave unshared?

You bring out the worst in me, my dear

A feral, howling beast

Ravenous with hunger, barely chained back

Snarling for release

I can't find the right words

To fit these thoughts deemed so unholy

I ache to capture your lips in mine

And your cold hands seem so lonely

I am not usually a wanton creature

But, perhaps, with the morning dew,

A fresh start is in order?

You know I forget myself when it comes to you

-

[lickthecowhappy]

Ineffable May - Day 31

The Second Coming

The last day has arrived. Thank you for joining me!

Day 30 | Ineffable May Repository

meticulously planned covertly set in motion taking our time and great effort striving as we rush to the end  or more accurately  to prevent the end breath gone ragged at the final push the end is near culminating from millennia of playing an ineffable game shoulder to shoulder  faces turned to God sweat on our brows goosebumps on our skin smiles ear to ear a sigh and a whisper “Fancy a second coming, dear?”

Day 30 | Ineffable May Repository

[spite-of-the-grifter]

Look.

Ace Attorney fandom.

I know why people don't like Turnabout Bigtop. I am among the people who dislike Turnabout Bigtop.

But I GET why people like the case. I'm not going to be one of those annoying people who just blindly dump on it because I hate those mfs too.

Thing about Bigtop isn't that it sucks. Thing isn't the weird grooming stuff (though that is a huge part of it). It's not that it could've been good.

It's that - in my personal OPINION - it could have been *great*.

I think it had the potential to be one of the best third cases in the trilogy. It had everything; a fun and goofy setting fit for a pretty dang goofy lawyer game - where the environment itself had jokes and quips and one-liners and mishaps and tomfoolery written all over it, it had the previous case introducing a very interesting and important plotline that gave background for one of the more well-loved characters while also introducing an equally fucked up and lovable new one who was a child forced into a shit childhood of naivete in a CIRCUS with another character who was very naive and childish - whose interactions could have been funny and cute and reflective of said shit from the previous case (seriously she becomes such an important character in the 4th case, WHY would they not include her in this one for some character development? How did they fuck up letting a CHILD explore a CIRCUS?? That would have made the interactions flow MUCH better).

They had a pretty good, sympathetic killer imo, a morally dubious victim, an asshole of a client (who was pretty flat admittedly in-game, but I like his weird, topsy-turvy reasoning for it in the anime. Also, I think Max being kinda a dick would have bode well for the themes of Farewell since most of his clients up to this point have been like...nice? Not nice, but sympathetic, but him having to defend someone who's innocent but a prick would have shown him that just because someone is an asshole, doesn't mean they deserve to suffer for it and that they have the potential to grow as people, which is almost a complete opposite of what Matt was. Ultimately, I would have loved the contrast of them as clients and I think it would have also served as character development for Phoenix, especially with his low-empathy tendencies).

They just didn't think that far ahead. They just didn't execute it well enough. They just decided to make three of the adult characters fight for the hand in marriage of a teenage girl. (Bat's part of the story was actually kinda good if he was just YOUNGER, I think him doing that for Regina would have been a stupid thing someone in the circus would do to impress their crush. Damn you Ace Attorney and your weird treatment of underage girls!!)

It just flopped and that's ok.

Even though it kinda sucked, it can still mean something to me.

Also I'm a Moe Curls apologist. I liked him, shut up.

[stardustedknuckles]

There was a woman sat on the curb with a typewriter when I left taco bell, with a sign taped to her folding table advertising personal poems written for you on the spot. And you know... Sometimes you have to let people surprise you. I stopped, in my Dyke shirt with my caduceus clay book in one hand, and I told her I've never seen a poem about asexuality that wasn't sad.

We chatted for a good fifteen minutes, in which she - self describing as hypersexual - asked me more about my experience. She had friends who were on the ace spectrum, which was a relief on my part to not start from zero, and I just told her what I could. About growing up with friends who would stop talking to me once they got partners and tell me I would understand one day, about how it feels a little like being in a musical but never having heard the words everyone else knows or learned the steps to the dance they're all doing in unison. We laughed together at the way I'm mystified by story plots that revolve around bad decisions made due to being just that horny, a situation she was intimately familiar with and having a 43-year life full of those stories.

At the end she asked if I happened to have a title in mind and at first there was nothing. I hate titles. I tend to default to song lyrics for ao3. But as soon as she asked, I remembered standing in the cafeteria in eighth grade and being annoyed that all the Greek gods of love were of that kind of love. I remember wondering if there was a god/dess of friendship, and I remember the closest I found was Philotes: goddess of friendship, affection, and sex. In eighth grade I took the last one with a kind of "that's close enough I guess" attitude, but at 30 I think it's perfect actually. Lack of attraction has nothing to do with what feels good. There's nothing out of place about it to me these days.

I hadn't thought about that in years, no idea why it came to mind except I was also thinking of eighth grade me when I talked about my friends fucking off one by one to be with their partners. She wrote down the spelling, thanked me warmly for the talk, and returned to her typewriter.

I spent the next half an hour with a delightful Dyke who gave me a business card, on which her title was printed - no joke - "Lesbian Mayor of (neighborhood)." She was my parents' age and when she remarked with the utmost sincerity and approval that "you're kind of a weird big bang theory" I choked down the feeling of being directly assaulted and said hey, my dad watches that.

At some point Lisa finished her work on her typewriter. When I arrived it was fully light out, but by then it was getting dark. She stood in front of the bench where I was, fumbled on the phone light, and read to me what she had typed. And damn if the first two sentences didn't take me right the fuck out immediately. "I thought in middle school that if I was ever going to write a poem it would be an ode to Philotes," I had told her, a memory that comes with the affectionate sort of cringe reserved for your twelve year old self, earnest as they still were. And the same feeling came over me as she read the poem out to me - but it wasn't cringe I felt. It was the feeling that I had started something in 2005 that was only taking real shape nearly 20 years later.

I don't know if it's a "good" poem. That was never my strength. But it was written for me and for me, and the opening line "build me an effigy that transcends flesh" knocked the breath out of me immediately. I have the paper here beside me on the couch, and it feels like the kind of thing that goes in a treasure box, or maybe a frame.

I also had to remind her to give me her zelle so I could pay her - clearly also affected, she had turned to start on the next poem (a raunchy sex limerick as requested by a guy in a backward ball cap and boat shoes) and had forgotten entirely.

It's gonna overdraw my account when an auto payment hits next Wednesday, but honestly... Worth it. I just wish the fee would've gone to her instead of the bank.

Let people surprise you.

[wyfy-meltdown]

Witchification

The soul that unwravels into strings of smoke

The body that unwraps to unvail new bones and new skin

The heart that unlatches and spreads into a locked box to hold the girl's broken form

The mind that undoes all its memories and hopes

Creating an un-dream for the girl:

Fantastical stage plays go off, playing the girls desires

Her un-dream will loop until the next girl comes.

[babygirlwolverine]

waiting for you is like waiting for the sun to rise;

inevitable,

and yet standing on that hill,

watching the moon slip behind the clouds

as the warmth peeks out to replace the silver glow,

I feel like i’m waiting alone.

[uncanny-tranny]

I'm so not normal about nursery songs like You Are My Sunshine... we are singing our loved ones (babies and young especially) that they are the sun in our hearts, that they warm us with their very presence and that they are so, so dear and loved. How could you hate humanity when we have this unadulterated love for each other?

[simmyfrobby]

― “Tuesday”, Alex Dimitrov

Hockey Poetry Post 80/?

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

top 5 wips you’re most excited to write? :D

AH …. anon my beloved 🥺🥺🥺 tysm for giving me an excuse to talk about them!!!! i have a whole bunch but here are the ones i’m most excited for/planning to write soon :3 hopefully

TITLES ARE STILL UNDER CONSTRUCTION BTW but if you know where any of them are from you get a big gold star ⭐️

it’s your touch that i need

the best friend’s brother!satoru fic that i’m planning on posting next….. i’m . Unsure if i’ll have time to post it this week but :’3 i’ll get it done!!! honestly i just think bfb!toru is insanely attractive so this is mostly an outlet for that but . i have a plot mapped out kind of… the unrequited love trope is just perfect for him but it’s Me so it’ll probably be less angsty and more funny/bittersweet !!

here’s a snippet from it <3

”you’re a good kid,” he says, and his smile teeters on the edge of something apologetic. mostly, it’s pitying. ”there are lots of people out there for you.” the weight of his palm on your head is usually a comfort, but like this? it’s a specific kind of torture. he ruffles your hair, as affectionate as ever, the same as it’s always been. not a trace of any romantic intent. there are lots of people out there for you. (i know, you want to tell him, but your voice is raspy and your throat feels sort of dry. i know. but i want you.)

hunter, you were human

my neglected mer!sugu fic…… our beloved fish man….. one day. i’ll write it out. i’m having some trouble deciding the order of events + general formatting of the outline so 😭😭 i’m a bit stuck. i’ll get there though!!! this au has angst potential but it’s Me so trust that this will be fluffy and nothing else. lots of banter and cutesy moments. i have a lotttt of thoughts about this au and character/reader dynamic so….. i’m. really excited to eventually write it all out!!! i love him sm :cc

“i don’t really like freshwater.” … your eyes widen. his voice is silky, smooth, like a silver river running from the forked tip of his tongue; a melodic lilt that makes you think of the lullaby your mother used to sing you to sleep with. a long, slow moment passes you by, like the rocking of a rusty ship. silently, your tongue forms around a bundle of words, your mouth gaping like a fish out of water. staring at the merman in your bathtub. “you can talk?!”

consider the hairpin turn

THE BELOVEDEST OF THEM ALL …… my extremely neglected best friend’s brother!kenjaku fic T_T my magnum opus even . i started writing it out a while ago but had to stop bc i can’t decide how to format it …. i think it’d be best to tell the story through a lot of flashbacks but it’s difficult to decide where to put what flashbacks in a way that doesn’t disturb the flow, yk??? but i do have everything outlined and i’m super excited to finally post it :33 someday… bfb!kenny is the actual loml i have so much lore planned for him. this fic is just a whole bunch of yearning and tension… the tiniest tiniest bit suggestive bc he truly makes me ill.

nervously, your gaze trails towards the stairs. worried, your teeth gnawing at your bottom lip. kenjaku notices. a large palm cradles your cheek; making sure your eyes stay locked onto his own. ”don't worry about him,” he soothes, a rough thumb smoothing down your skin. ”it’s just us here… just you and me. why don’t you take a deep breath for me, hm?” (you do. without thinking. as if your body was waiting for instructions, waiting to satiate this gnawing desire to impress him, make him proud. be good for him.)  “now,” he exhales, in tandem with you, molecules mingling together. “do you want this?” 

only in the next world

ANOTHER DEARLY BELOVED WIP that’s been rotting in my drafts for a while ….. 👉👈 i think that out of all of these fics this is the first one that i wrote the outline to?? probably even before i made this blog. it’s basically just a canon-aligned au where gojo navigates his maybe-possibly-feelings for you, a new teacher at jujutsu high!! sooo really just my attempt to write what i view as a more canon-aligned gojo and his feelings towards love :3 mostly character-centered fluff and slowburn… some office au vibes…. i’m very fond of this reader!! and i love this version of gojo so bad i really hope i can do him justice…

“they’re a softie, huh?” shoko exhales — smoke drifting past her lungs, mingling with the cold air, a stench of tobacco that makes him crinkle his nose. ”they are,” she hums, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. a dangerously knowing look. “it’s not often someone captures your attention.” gojo smiles. ”is that what it seems like?” he drawls, almost a chuckle. closing his eyes and thinking of you, the fading scent of your perfume. ”well, who knows.” (certainly not him.)

signs of affection

my sickeningly fluffy cult leader geto fic <333 bc i’m spreading the agenda that he is a puppy of a man towards his s/o. this one is just meant to be funny and sweet!! i adoreee the thought of him dating a retired sorcerer with a normal ass job so in this one the reader works at a preschool…. and they’re meant to attend some kind of event for the preschool + is offered to bring a plus one. mild chaos ensues (geto doesn’t want to be anywhere near your non-sorcerer colleagues but he also wants to support you so he’s having a bit of a crisis rn…..) i LOVE this one and i’m so excited to write it out <333333 i think this geto is the most endearing man alive.

suguru blinks, eyelashes fluttering, gleaming under the shallow light of the lamppost just behind him. illuminating the peach-dyed flush dusting his ears, those wide pupils. and his lips, glossy with something cherry-flavoured, soon to curl up into a smile — fond, fond, fond. melting into your touch, basking in your long-sought attention. if he were a cat, you’re sure he'd be purring. he places one big palm over yours, where it rests on his cheek, and he stares. silently, like you’re the only thing worth seeing; dreamy galaxies inside his eyes, all honey and star clusters, leaking adoration. a milky way of love. ”… another,” he pleads, nosing at your fingertips.

[amalgamationink]

NAPOWRIMO24 #9: ODE TO A PAIR OF PLATFORM BOOTS