#self written prose

[athousandbyeol]

"the reuniting of a broken mirror," this is the true story of princess lechang of the southern dynasties. she was forced to part from her husband. before they separated, they broke a mirror and each took half. many years later, they reunited because of the mirror and spent the rest of their lives together. however, behind this beautiful story lies a deeper meaning. during the decades they couldn't see each other, they could only look at the mirror and long for the beautiful image of each other. after their reunion, in the mirror, i could no longer see your enchanting face like a fairy from before, only the desolate moonlight reflected by the passage of time. (x)

[hoppipolla]

Lost and found, you never left my mind. (scenes cr.)

HAPPY INTERNATIONAL WOMEN'S RIGHTS DAY to you all with this beautiful and resilient soul!

[dreamsy990]

hi i wanted to draw my own au so have a snippet of scene i rewrote like 12 times and will likely rewrite again

[winterrfire]

It was a test that I failed, but a lesson I'll always remember.

—Romaisa Yasmeen

[blossom-tape]

clean

ten months sober. i never thought i’d make it this far, but here i am. it hasn’t been easy—just because i’m clean doesn’t mean i don’t miss him. the memories would creep in when i least expected, tempting me with a warmth i’d almost forgotten. there were nights i felt his pull, that familiar weight tugging at my resolve. but each time, i held on. i reminded myself of what i was fighting for.

now, though, something feels different. there are no traces of him left—no whispers, no shadows lingering at the edges of my thoughts. for the first time, i can say i’m fully clean. it’s just me, clear-headed and free. and in this space he used to occupy, i feel something new—happiness, lightness, and a clarity i’d nearly given up on. i’m finally here, just as I am, whole and unbroken.

[coffeeandthoughtspoetry]

I feel like we've drifted apart

'cause you don't look at me like that anymore'

[theoutcastsays]

Demons in my head  and monsters around me, I am not scared of them anymore.  When I see them now, I am not afraid . I feel furious . I feel  thousands of volts of anger running through my viens . I swear , if they ever come face to face with me again I will tear them limb to limb .

~excerpts from my journal of self destruction

[dakt37]

I love this "Wholesome Sonic and Tails Wednesday" trend. I don't have any new art, but here's a little ficlet set in my de-aged Tails Boom AU. It takes place before the other one.

~~~

"Never fear, Amy Rose is here!" She announced herself with gusto as she threw open the front door of Tails' house, inviting herself inside. Hearing noises, she immediately looked left to the kitchen. "What are you doing?"

Sonic didn't turn to face her, too focused on his task. "What's it look like I'm doing?"

"It looks like you're scouring a child like he's a dirty coffee cup."

Sonic froze mid-motion, then cranked his head around to glare at her over his shoulder. "Bathing an infant in the sink is perfectly normal. Look it up."

Amy hummed loudly and with much incredulity, walking around behind him to circle the long counter that cordoned off the kitchen alcove. When she got to the opening, she wasn't impressed with the scene inside. "He's closer to a toddler than an infant," she observed. "And you've gotten more water on the floor than in the sink."

Sonic glared at her again, this time over his other shoulder. "Are you here for a good reason, or just to criticize my parenting?"

Amy's eyebrows went up, but she left the label unanalyzed. "I brought food." She retrieved a large glass pan from her flowery tote bag and held it up like a trophy.

Sonic's frown deepened. "He's baby-fied, not dead," he snapped. "I don't need your condolences casserole." He turned back to the sink and poured shampoo into his palm.

Amy's eyes widened, then narrowed. A silence stretched as Sonic pointedly ignored her, the gentle motions of his fingers lathering fur a stark contrast to the emotion twisting his face. Luckily, the little fox under his hands was more interested in the hardware of the sink sprayer than the tension between the hedgehogs.

Eventually, Amy blew out a slow breath. "You know what I think?"

"I'm sure you'll tell me," Sonic grumbled, turning on the tap and checking the temperature of the water. With a plastic cup, he began rinsing suds off of Tails, letting the faucet run between refills.

Amy set down everything she had been carrying, and came to lean against the counter next to the sink. "I think," she placed a hand on Sonic's shoulder, causing him to pause again, "you're doing a great job. But you don't have to keep doing it alone."

Sonic silently watched Tails for another moment as the kid twisted the sink sprayer around in its base, examining the trigger mechanism.

"There better not be celery in that thing you cooked," Sonic finally said. He ghosted a finger across the tip of Tails' ear, watching it flick reflexively. "Because I'll tell you right now, he will know and he won't eat it."

"Never, "Amy retorted imperiously. "I do recall the Potluck Incident of last spring. And I don't imagine he was less picky as a toddler."

Sonic slumped then, resting on his forearms against the sink edge and letting his wet hands drip into the basin. He cocked his head to finally face her again, smiling sheepishly. "Yeah," he agreed, "I know you're smarter than that." His eyes flicked away, guiltily. "Sorry."

"Apology accepted." She gave his shoulder a squeeze and added gently, "We'll figure this out. Our little guy will be a slightly bigger little guy in no time."

"Ah, well," Sonic sighed. "It's not all so bad right now. Is it, bud--"

He turned to address the soggy little fox in the sink, and got a facefull of water. Tails giggled, his tails sloshing the shallow water around him. He held the sprayer in both hands, having successfully wrested it from its base and pulled up enough hose to let him take aim at the hedgehog.

"You little gremlin!" Sonic cried in faux outrage, "Surrender your weapon!"

Tails just laughed again and sprayed him right between the eyes.

Amy giggled as well, then pointed at the main faucet, which was still running between sprayer attacks. "You gave him the ammo, Sonic."

Sonic wrapped his hand around his little brother's on the sprayer, and directed it to soak her too.

[outstanding-quotes]

It’s really hard to put into words things that are just a little bit not okay.

Sayaka Murata, Earthlings

[penvibess]

Dear you,

I don't know what love is, I don't know what it looks like or sounds like. I don't know what it is supposed to feel like.

But I swear to God, when you laugh, it is like the sweetest melody to my ears, it is warm and soothing, like the first sip of coffee in winter. When you look at me with those brown eyes, it is like losing myself in your universe that lies behind those orbs. When the sun hits your face, it is like looking at the first ray of light after being alone in the darkness for a long time.

Your hair feels like silk between my fingers and your hands fit in mine like they're meant to be held by me. You are beautiful in ways I can't begin to comprehend and it hurts that I will never be able to put it into words that will justify the kind of person you are.

I dread the days that I have to spend without you and hope for the moment to last for just a little bit longer when we are together. I secretly giggle at the lamest of your jokes and say that I hate you with a hopeless smile. On days when we are apart, I only look forward to holding you in my arms.

I don't know what love is, what it looks like or what it is supposed to feel like but I swear to God, I have never felt safer, happier, and understood the way I have felt with you, and if that's what love is then I'm glad to have experienced it with you.

Yours truly,

<3

[chlorophyllcrimescene]

was thinking today about the mortifying ordeal of being known and this happened

[hoppipolla]

You're a bruised soul, forever blue

FILM THANAPAT as CHARN in LAWS OF ATTRACTION dir. Worawit Khuttiyayothin (2023)

(insp.)

[dreamsy990]

my laptops like super fucking dead and its gonna be a couple days before i can get a new one so uh. have a ghost roxas au doodle from procreate instead. returning to my roots i suppose. do not ask me to explain the story context for this or whats going on because i will not explain ok. you can figure it out yourself <-( theres absolutely not enough information for you to figure it out for yourself )

[inflammatory]

[blossom-tape]

maybe tonight holds a little hope for us, dear,

under the stars, where the skies feel clear.

i’m dreaming of a life where we’re side by side,

where your hand’s in mine, and there’s nothing to hide.

i hope you’d want to settle down with me,

as much as i want to, can’t you see?

a future built on love and trust,

with every moment, just the two of us.

we’ve danced around this dream so long,

but tonight feels like where we belong.

maybe tonight’s the night we choose,

to take that leap, nothing to lose.

i’ll wait for you, right here, my love,

with a heart full of hope and skies above.

maybe tonight, we’ll finally see,

that you and i are meant to be.

ben&ben, maybe the night (inspired)

[aiura-stan]

best writing advice I ever got was to do anything and everything to divorce yourself from shame. shame is toxic to creativity. If you're constantly creating work you feel ashamed of, you won't finish it.

do whatever you have to, which includes resting, taking a break, etc. But also trying your luck every now and then to see if you're able to write again. I've found it's a delicate balance. If I try to force myself, it can become an unfun slog. But also, if I don't like, at least try every now and then, it's pretty likely that I'll miss out on a lot of really enjoyable and productive writing time. Even if I feel like crap and can barely keep my eyes open. Even if my memory is lapsing like every 3 seconds and I have more redundancies and contradictions in my writing than my 84 year old grandfather probably has in his prose. That's what editing is for, right? I can't be ashamed of myself. I just have to write anyways.

really, at the end of the day, writing is a lifeline to me, no more and no less. At a certain point, it's not bravery, or motivation, but sheer desperation that motivates me to write. And trying to moralize about it is pointless. once I learned to really let go and just write whatever the hell, it was much better.