#tumblr hates poetry formats so let's see how this goes

[souharuweek2024]

Rules & Guidelines

Hello, friends! This post will serve as a notification board for the participants so let’s dive into it, shall we?

⚠️ The event will be open for everyone to post their works throughout the week from September 8 at 00:00 to September 15 at 24:00. ⚠️

▼ Participation is open to anyone allowed to have an account here, but be warned for adult themes. Any work format is ok. Fanfiction, poetry, vid, gifset, art, playlists… what have you~

Edit: apparently submissions are NOT limited to tumblr users, so if you choose to participate make sure you use a valid email account where I can reach you (just in case I need clarifications for your submitted works. I WILL NOT use your email for anything other than that, rest assured!)

EDIT Edit: nope! My mistake. you do need to be logged into. Seriously, tumblr? You are so annoying… 😞

▲ Prompts are merely guidelines and you’re both free and encouraged to work with them as you see fit. I’m excited to see how the participants will mould each prompt into their own vision and selected medium. Yay!

▼ Your participation piece must be original and published for the first time. It must also, be created by you as in: a) not stolen and b) not made with AI. Please.

▲ The Day Prompt used for a work must be clearly mentioned on it and you can either submit your work directly to this blog or post on your own blog with the tags: souharuweek24, souharuweek2024, souharuweek

▼ That said, please also tag your works properly: Don’t leave for example, a NSFW entry without mentioning what it is. I will try to revise the works but slip ups may occur since I’m currently hosting the event alone. 😗

▲ Themes of abuse, non-con/rape, gore and shota/pedophilia are prohibited, so please do not enter with works like that. (I highly doubt anything could be too trigger-y to not make the cut but still, Im just saying…)

Both SFW & NSFW are a-okay, though.

▼ Finally, please refrain from any kind of dismissal/hate speech/drama stirring toward the characters, ship, show and of course, it goes without saying, to the other participants and fans. Be kind and patient with one another, we’re here to have fun, after all. :)

★ I will reblog late submissions to the event up to one week after, so don’t be discouraged if you think you can’t make it in time and follow the days… :)

◆ If you need further clarification or are unsure about something, asks are open for everyone, so don’t hesitate to send any questions you may have. No matter how small or insignificant you may think it is, I’ll gladly answer it! 🤗

Keep it on board and have fun creating! 💕

[redashtree]

ancestral america

i see the records of people long dead

who carried my blood, my name.

what amazing luck it is

to have ancestors

trackable through time

and beyond borders.

but there are so many

we will never know the names of.

there are ancestors whose names were overwritten,

family lines lost when they married,

taking the names of husbands who

took them away from home

and tried to make them

be wives instead of women.

there are ancestors whose names were forgotten;

when they died,

their families wouldn’t claim them

or they were buried under names they no longer went by,

or they were too afraid to go by a new name

at all.

there are ancestors whose names were stolen,

forced into conformitive whiteness,

leaving old ways behind and

picking new identities from the bible

as if the same sanctity could ever be found

in the holy book of their oppressors.

there are ancestors whose names were silenced

ignored and written off

because when you’re buying a human being

you don’t care to know what their family called them.

so they became a single word, counted on inventories,

written over and over again.

there are ancestors who bought passage or stowed away in ships,

landed at ellis island where the man with the ledger

had never heard their name before

and wrote it down wrong,

or just gave them a new one

to make them sound more american.

there are ancestors who would’ve been american

turned away, or deported

sent back to face death and destruction

because we didn’t want to spend

any effort

to welcome them.

our history is bloody

and bleeding still, red,

and bleeding into now,

bleeding into

our own living hearts.

the cries of stolen children echo down through time’s spiralling march,

through ships, plantations,

schools and camps and reservations,

and the slow strangulation of culture

is our american legacy,

and the books we are given list only the victories,

white entitlement framed as a right and a destiny,

not a crime and a building supremacy,

every atrocity a footnote,

overshadowed and coated

in white sugar.

they say that trauma is inherited--

passed down in families like

heirlooms, handed off carefully,

but already broken,

chipped at the edges or

shattered,

and swept up into a pile of sharp pieces

stabbing at us when we try to take them unto ourselves,

generations of blood staining our hands,

and we add our own, unwittingly,

unwillingly.

pass it down again.

how many people have died unnamed?

how many die unnamed?

how many stories,

gone?

and who are we, without stories?

what would we be?

what will we become?

our history makes us,

shapes us.

and “they who cannot remember the past

are doomed to repeat it,”

but how are we supposed to remember things

that we are never told?

every story worth its weight in gold

and lost to time

or locked behind vault doors.

but to remember is to learn from past mistakes

and to fight is to pick up the torch

for every elder

and ancestor

who ever stood in our place.

or who never caught the chance to.

we take the broken heirlooms,

piece together the shards,

form something new.

pass it down knowing

it carries our blood

and will not take our children’s.

[uncertain-fanfic]

Life goes on, the Adventure Begins...(Eren POV)

   I hurried down the hallway, cussing to myself. “shit, shit shit shit”, I was already late to class on the first day of college, but to top it all off I still hadn’t had my morning coffee, my morning smoke, or a moment to actually breathe on a too early Monday morning. My first class for the day was modern poetry, a mixture of poetry technique with social media influences. To be honest I really wasn’t sure what all the class entitled, it filled in a time slot in my schedule and fulfilled a category. The professor was new, and I had heard strange reviews from my  friends who have taken some of the professor’s other classes. When I finally found the classroom, I quietly let himself in, trying to hurry to an open spot.

    “And who are you”, a harsh tone voice pulled me out of my thoughts

    “Eren Jaeger sir” I mumbled looking up shyly, I hated when professors were mean. I took the moment to get a good look of the professor and I had to say, Mr. Ackerman was sexy. I brushed off the thought and went to go sit at a desk when he motioned me off. 

   While Levi logged on into the computer, I pulled out my laptop, opened up a fresh google doc, as well as logged onto More2kno, my college’s online academia website. When Mr. Ackerman cleared his throat, I looked up and started to focus. 

    “Good day class, my name is Mr. Ackerman, you may call me, Professor, Professor Ackerman, and Mr. Ackerman. Nothing else.” He looked around the room and folded his hands “Most people don’t like me, they say that I am too tough in my grading and that art is subjective.” He paused, smiling as he chuckled to himself “that is true, but beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and since I am the beholder of your homework, I get to choose the grade I decide to give. To put it clearly, I don’t like trash. I will give you an honest grade based on what I believe is the effort you put into it. If you don’t agree with that, leave, this is a college level course, expect to be challenged. This is not eighth grade poetry.” His eyes landed on me, cool and indifferent. “The next thing I want to address is that I do not like tardiness, do you understand Eren Jaeger?” 

   I blushed slightly and nodded my head “won’t happen again professor” 

Mr. Ackerman continued on with class, it was the first day bullshit, going through the syllabus, class expectations, academic goals, code of conduct, the schedule. I had already read the syllabus and decided I might enjoy this class, hell even the assignments sounded pleasant. No doubt it all looked challenging, but that’s what I liked about the English department, everything was analytical and metaphorical, I liked being able to create with words alone. I daydreamed for the rest of class, not really paying attention until finally it was over, packing up my bag slowly, I waited until I was the last one out, too many people heading towards one direction. I stood up, waving goodbye to the professor as I walked out the door, heading to my next class, Social Theory. It was gonna be a blissfully short day, I usually made sure Mondays had shorter class loads since I struggled with mornings. Two more classes later, I was enjoying my second smoke of the day after eating finally, it was one pm in the afternoon. my phone started to vibrate, I placed my smoke between my lips and pulled it out, answering with an exhale of smoke “hello?” 

    “Hey Eren”

     Mikasa’s soft voice sounded so quiet through my phone, I could barely hear her, turning up the volume on my phone, I smiled “oh hey sis, how are you?” I asked leaning against the tree I was sitting under. “How was your first day?” Mikasa went to a different college than me, she was currently in Seattle, Washington training to be a martial arts trainer. She wanted to run her own dojo. 

   She hummed absentmindedly, “oh the usual first day bullshit, nothing special. What about yourself? How are things in Minneapolis?” 

   I shrug “same old, same old,” he exhaled thoughtfully, “the professor of my morning class is cute though” he commented “he’s new this year”

   Mikasa hummed again, she wasn’t really into relationships and sexual things, humans were distracting, which was just fine with me. Our mom and dad died when we were younger and well she basically helped me get on my feet as an adult, “hey sis” I suddenly said “I love ya, I just want you to know that, I don’t know I’m already stressing about classes and shit but yeah we got this.”

    Mikasa smiled through the phone, i could hear it in her voice “I get what you mean Eren, listen I got to go, my class is about to start, I just wanted to call and see how you were doing, I’ll talk to you later.”

   I finished my smoke and looked up to see Mr. Ackerman walking across the street leading into the college, usually I finish my smoke, then walk home but this time, I lit another smoke and waited to see what happened. Mr. Ackerman ended up walking over to the smoke spot, nodding at me, he pulled out a pack of smokes and lit one, inhaling that first hit of nicotine slowly. I watched him exhale out of the corner of my eye as I played on my phone. 

    Mr. Ackerman quietly sat down and watched people as they walked by, silently smoking, I looked out the corner of my eye to see him mouthing something to himself as he smoked, “How do you like the campus so far?” I asked just trying to be friendly. 

    Mr. Ackerman glanced over at me with a piercing gaze, exhaling his smoke before he answered with the indifferent tone, “ ask me at the end of the year, after I’ve read all the little shits’ works” 

    I laugh “yeah I suppose, some people just don’t have the talent. But I mean there will also be works that you’ll like” I mused smiling over at him. 

     Mr. Ackerman hummed his agreement, “will I be liking your work?” he asked.

   I chuckled “I hope so, I am not really much of a poet, I prefer writing stories.” I said finishing my second smoke. 

    Mr. Ackerman put out his smoke as well and stands “just think, poetry is creating a vivid story with as few words as possible.” leaving me with that to ponder on, he headed off. I finally stand, heading into the direction of home, I lived near campus with my friends Armin, Jean and Marco. Jean and Marco were a couple finally and Armin is my best friend from childhood, so it was nice living with them. When I walked inside, I took my shoes off waving at the Jean and Marco cuddling on the couch watching TV, before quietly heading to my room, Armin was at work. I happened to have today off and I was already planning on going to bed early, I was freaking exhausted. I took an hour and filled out my planner with my class important dates, got my book bag and clothes ready for tomorrow. I took a long ass shower, taking my time to wash my hair, body and face, I shaved my legs, my armpits, and did some manscaping, before I brushed my teeth, got my jamjams on and opened up my laptop to log onto Tumblr. I spent the next two hours writing the next chapter of the horror book I’ve been working on, I used Tumblr as my domain because one its cheap and two I am able to format it as a vlog like form that I found gave the story a unique angle that I liked. Around ten o’clock, I decided to hit the hay posting the chapter and closing my laptop, I pulled in my phone, set my alarm for ten am, laid down and closed my eyes, cuddling tight with Thesaurus, my dinosaur stuffie. Settling down for the night I fell asleep to the white noise of urban neighborhoods dreaming of a certain cold gaze. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~That is as far as I am going to get for this first chapter, I am sorry that it isn’t longer, I have class tomorrow and its almost 2 am -.-. let me know what you think and I will be updating more content within the week. 

10.23.17