DATE WITH FATE 

the eve defense up on my substack

didn’t you know you’d get what was coming to you?

oh come on, you had to have known. yet you still decided to act like everyone owed you something, so the world gave you it— not what you wanted but what you deserved.

i write this for you— but to say your name would give you too much power.

you’ll be buried and the world will spin on

you’ll be worm food and we will forget you, however our dna won’t. not till we break the cycle.

N. 

How to describe someone time isn’t a friend of- 

Fate knows your name, 

It’s strong, your strong. In your arms, I feel safe, 

Until we let go

Music turned all the way up 

The only song I wanted to hear was your heart 

Harmonious, a voice so sweet to the ears 

Fate might not be our friend, 

But time knows our name and dammit it demands it so mockingly, 

Like a threat. 

Dare we prove fate wrong and test the stars?  We’ll test the boundaries of life itself.

every time I try to write something silly it's not long before things get mildly serious and the tone changes

but I want to channel my inner child and forget all that, I want to write something fun without overthinking

Refaat Alareer, an academic and lecturer at the Islamic University of Gaza, was martyred along with his family in a targeted assassination carried out by the Israeli occupation on December 7th, 2023. We must continue to stand against this genocide.

regarding the röttgen pietà, elle emerson

I feel sick. Again. Not in control. Again. 

Shaken, misplaced, irregular 

I have all the words ready to spew out from my faucet, 

But they won’t come out, not right now, 

And not right. Just jumbled word vomit that smells like grief, aching, and anxiety. 

My insides feel all torn up. 

All messed up. 

Just like my mind. 

I’m currently trying to find out if I’m even alive. 

This stupid ringing in my ear, 

This stupid voice in my head, 

This stupid way that I look at him. 

Pushing my feelings aside. No longer shoving them down his throat, just my fingers that he loves to suck. 

My body that he loves to touch. 

My body that is hard for me to touch. 

Looking around to see others wanting me but I’m not sure if I even want myself anymore. 

Cause he used to want me in a way that made my heart fucking flutter. He used to want me in a way that proclaimed love was real. 

I promised to put myself first. 

I promised to love myself. 

I used to put myself first. 

I used to love myself more than I loved anyone else. 

I met him and fell down a landslide. 

Is it me wanting to get pleasure because it’s so easily accessible, or is it me wanting to get pleasure to erase those feelings, to take me to an out-of-body experience, to just make my brain empty and my body full? I want to be loved, and I want to be cared for. By him. But it’s not possible, not right now, perhaps not ever, just not in the way that I love and care for him. So I’m putting myself first. I will be organized, I will be on time, I will take my medication, I will make my bed and do yoga and see friends. I will have sex for pleasure and to fill that void. I believe that love just isn’t on the menu for me right now. Not right now. I know it will come, I vow it too. But I stop my beckoning. I hold off on the searching and the begging. I’m young. It’s about me. 

can someone fucking linger near the door uncomfortably instead of just leaving. can someone fucking forget their scarf in my life & come back later for it. please

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ. September will bring blessings.

ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

You’ve heard of one shots, now get ready for none shots! It’s when you think of an idea for a fic and then don’t write it