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#I'm just atrocious at poetry
alllgator-blood · 13 days
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Emotional support Leshy comfort doodle after some very shitty days:,> we all need some bush boy encouragement in our life.
Don’t forget to hydrate, have a snack and treat yourself!:D
HKDFSDFSAJHF YOU RETURNED SO SOON!
You picked literally the best time to send me encouraging leshy art because IIIIIIIIII am having a complete rollercoaster of emotions in my personal life. I have like a really cool vacation coming up but it's in the middle of my personal life falling apart so I'm very conflicted. BUT IF LESHY THINKS I CAN MAKE IT THROUGH THIS, I HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO TRY
I drew shamura giving you their blessing because you said you weren't doing so great, I was actually gonna schedule my ask doodles for tomorrow before I go on my trip but I felt like this one should be answered tonight-
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I tried to include the theme of arson in the picture because it made me laugh seeing a cute lil leshy enjoying committing crimes. I hope even if things have been shitty lately, you feel a little better knowing this random internet artist wants things to start looking up for you. I certainly felt better seeing your art pop up in my inbox again so I might as well pass it on!
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fictionadventurer · 8 days
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NaPoWriMo #19: A poem recounting a historical event
To a Man Commenting Upon Lincoln's Homely Features
Abraham Lincoln knew quite well He had never been beauty-graced. When Douglas met him in debate And told him he was quite two-faced, Old Lincoln made a quick reply With his usual sense of fun: "If I'd another face to wear, Do you think I would wear this one?"
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alarming-prism · 4 months
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i just want someone to appreciate this book of emily dickinson's poems that i found at a bookstore today <3 it's so pretty
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yarnrocks · 5 days
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AHEM i have written a (dumbass) poem it's name is:
I HAVE IBS
Raisins in a bun
Like spots on a sun
Amongst bright fluff an umbrous mass
Take one in
And soon, too, you'll begin
To expel out flaming hot, copious gas
THANK YOU goodnight muah muah
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khuzena · 3 days
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Waiting room
Pairing: Dr ratio, Aventurine, Sunday x g/n!reader
Summary: You can love, get on your knees and wait on a miracle. There are things that are for you and aren't for you, you should know. It's for the better.
Cw. Heavy angst, no comfort, 1% fluff, manipulative men, toxic relationships, insecurities, death?, unrequited love, breakups, them neglecting you cos…, no closure, what is love?
A/n: hi, time to make you cry. I'm getting writer's block as I'm making a new novel!! It has the ‘your guardian angel’ fics plot but w my characters. 🥳
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Dr ratio
He's a simple man, really.
Drown yourself in endless textbooks, advanced literature and neglect every other thing.
Like his thirst for knowledge; love is endless, affection is abundant.
Is what you initially thought.
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It has been the 4th time this week that he turned down your requests, “Dear, you know I have no time for that.”
He does not try to sugarcoat his words, he does not try to make his tone less harsh, “I don't have time for dates, such a waste of time.'' He says it like it is, he says it like it's true.
Your eyebrows creased, annoyed at his flippant attitude, “What do you mean waste of time?”
Veritas takes one glance at you, then back to his nonsense book. To him, it was useless wasting his breath on arguing with you.
“Veritas, you said we'll go, you promised.”
He is cruel, his words flinty. “I do not recall making any atrocious promises to you, are you perhaps going insane?”
Insane?
“Insane? Last week, you promised me.”
“I did not.”
“Yes you did.”
He scoffs, as if offended, “If I did, then I was not thinking straight. I have a thesis due tomorrow. A date can wait.”
Veritas is a man with priorities and out of all of them, it seems, you were not one of them. He'd rather his books kept him company, not you. It's obvious, his pursuit of knowledge was greater than loving you.
He lit his lamp, taking his pen and highlighting some paragraphs, what was so important with them? You could not help but come closer, skimming through the contents, it was just some theory some genius society member wrote.
“You're miserable,” it might've accidentally slipped out, but it was true; he is, in fact, the most miserable of all men.
Veritas rolled his eyes, pushing his reading glasses and annotating whatever statement was written. The candle light flickered when his heavy breaths fanned over it, not paying mind to whatever you say.
Your patience was thinning, how long was he planning to play this damned game?
“Veritas.”
You call out once.
“Veritas!”
Again, in anger.
“Veritas”
The last time, desperately.
He does not respond, he does not care. Yet your voice was ringing in his ears in an unpleasant way, “Is this about the date?”
You were taken aback by his curt reply, it wasn't just about the date. “Is that all? Do you think that's the only reason?”
“Hypothetically speaking, yes.”
“Cut the bullshit, veritas.”
Veritas glares at you, as if making a statement; a bullshit one at that. He does not have time for mindless topics, he's overworked, he's tired, he's unsatisfied.
For a moment, you have the urge to yell at him. This shallow bastard has done nothing but fool you with aureate words, he writes poetry about you and shows you off.
He loves you because you are all he has. He may be an asshole but he loves you the way he knows how to love you.
Tonight, however, you are done with his bullshit. You do not argue further, he is confused. When you leave this room with no more qualms, when you do not scream at him, he is bewildered.
“Where are you going?” It's strange that he noticed you for the first time. Only when you get dressed up and when he hears the keys jingle, does he notice every single detail.
You adjusted the cuffs of your blouser, “I'm staying at a friend's”
“Which one?”
“None of your business.”
Stunned, he drops his pen. Why are you acting so off? You're driving him insane.
“What do you mean none of my business? Stop acting so childish.”
That was your last straw, childish? Childish? The fucking audacity.
“You are more childish.”
“How so?”
“You— do I even have to explain it?”
Nothing could quell your frustration other than being away from him for the meantime, “Yes,” he loves you, he wants to know. But even if he does, he never learns; so much for a genius.
“You neglect me, you prioritise this,” it was tempting to crumple his papers, “—over me.” So you did.
He is indifferent. He does not understand how and why it hurts you. So he tries to understand it from a logical standpoint, “So you want to really go on that date?”
“I'm tired of asking”
Tired of begging him to treat you right, to love you like you want him to love you.
He stays quiet.
“I'm tired of begging for something so small.”
“You didn't have to destroy my goddamn book,” he seethed and pulled the book from your hands, too absorbed in the damage of the book he does not notice how much he has damaged you. Veritas is too blind to see you holding back tears despite wearing his glasses.
The force surprised you, “Is that thing much more important?”
“What?”
“Answer me Veritas Ratio.”
It was merely just a book, but it was precious. It was a rare one, it annoyed him to immeasurable depths when you crumpled it so recklessly.
He does not answer.
“I'm leaving,” he's not sure if leaving meant temporarily, he hopes it is. He hopes you come back again tomorrow night.
So he waits. Tomorrow came, but you did not come home.
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Aventurine
He loves you, he really does.
His idea of love is adorning you with jewels, showering you with riches.
Too much that you suffocate, it hurts. You can't breathe, soulless eyes stare into yours.
It's when you realise, he's trapping you. Does he think you're stupid? What does he take you for?
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“Darling! I got you a gift!”
The 22nd one this week… Aventurine makes haste and runs behind you, wearing the necklace on you, it looks… okay.
You look like a doll, his doll.
But you are not a doll, you are human.
And like all humans, we all wish to be loved and cherished as an equal.
“Do you like it?” It would be rude to say no, but it does not fit you. Sure it accentuates your neck, but it's too much.
“I…” you traced your finger over the gem, “I do.”
“Great! I'll get you another tomorrow!” It is tiring. As much as planets worth of gold and extravagant jewels excite you, you would rather be in his presence.
You do not recall the last day he's ever taken you out on a proper date, you do not recall any time where he's been open to you about his past because you know damn well his name could never just be ‘Aventurine’.
You were sitting on the couch, sipping tea with your eyes glued to your book. Before you knew it, soft lips grazed on your cheek.
“You're back earlier than expected,” he smiles as he pressed another kiss onto you, “I ditched the meeting, for you.”
Oh how you hate it when he does things in your name just to make you indebted to him. Aventurine loves you, but love is transactional.
“Is that so?” He nods, wrapping his arms around you. “I'll buy you something again, we have another business trip in Penacony.”
It makes you wonder, does he think gifts are the only thing that'll make you stay?
He could see the reluctance in your eyes, “Is something on your mind?”
You bit your lip, “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.”
A deafening silence fills the room before he chuckles, he is everything but stupid. He knows, he knows you want to spend time with him, he knows you’d incinerate those gifts in a heartbeat just to trade even an hour spending time with him.
“Dear, I promise, next time,” he pressed light kisses on your exposed shoulder, but it isn’t enough: what truly is enough?
You want to push him away, with how ruthless he is with making empty promises so easily, “You said ‘next time’ last time.”
”I promise, I do.” Even he sounds unsure. You pick up on the hint of hesitation laced in his promises, he regrets it, but he thinks; he’s doing it for you, for the both of you.
“You said that too last month,” you scoff.
He tried to intertwine your fingers together yet to no avail, you rejected him, “Why are you acting up again?”
There’s only so many gifts can buy but he can never purchase the time lost that could’ve been spent in lazy mornings together yet he traded it all for credits. The second attempt, he forces a smile and even pulls a tiny ring for you, that gem you loved so much engraved in the centre. Words cannot express how much you despise these gifts because it was just a pathetic compensation for the neglect.
”Please, next month.” He took your hand in his and put the ring on your ring finger. “Okay?”
You cling to that possibility, to that sliver of hope when he is done with Penacony, he is relieved of his duties and he is finally free. That he no longer has to overcompensate for his absence and shower you with the time he’s lost.
You know next month won’t come, yet you are no different from a fool.
”Okay”
You wait upon endless tomorrows, two months have passed and none of his coworkers have any good news about his well-being. They’re sure he’s dead, but you still wait for that tomorrow where he is home to come.
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Sunday
Love, what truly is love?
Is it when you praise your lover with endless ‘I love you’s?
Is it when you hold their hand and protect them for the impending doom to come?
or rather, is love just a fallacy built on a string of lies?
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Sunday believes that he knows what’s best for you.
Before Sunday, you were allowed to make your own decisions.
Before Sunday, you actually had freedom.
The halovian swears he knows what’s best for you.
He makes sure everything you want or need, you get.
Sunday will kiss your tears away, even if he is the sole reason for them. ”It’s for your own good.” he says.
To strip you of freedom, to shackle you to him like a bird in a cage. His sweet kisses, his love, his everything; they’re all fucking poison. He does not hesitate to drown you in his poison if it means protecting you.
You cry out, “Sunday.” In desperate pleas.
But he will not listen, he’ll pretend he doesn’t hear anything.
He believes that if he gives you the taste of freedom, you’ll find a way to fly away from his grasp– he will not allow it. So he does what he’s best at, keeping you stuck to him.
”What do you want, dear?” He smiles at you like he’s never sinned.
You throw away the pathetic gifts he adorned you with, gold, diamonds and stones you could not name but they are not what you want, “I want to see my friends.”
”They’re no good, trust me.” Your friends once told you that you should go, that he’s toxic, but you were a fool to drown in him.
“What do you know about my friends?” He’s done everything to kill that flame inside of you, that hope that maybe one day you’d escape him and be free once again, you’re a fool, he thinks.
He clicks his tongue as he puts down his newspaper at the coffee table, ”They tried to take you away from me.”
”They did not, you know I would never leave you.” A blatant lie but it's stupid that you take him for a fool that’ll believe your words.
He only chuckles, your attempts to get away from him are futile, it’s pathetic it makes him laugh. “I admire your confidence, but you’re staying here tonight.”
Death has never been more alluring under his influence, but you can not die.
“Please,” you beg again, but he only presses his finger to your lips, “Shh…”
”One day you’ll thank me for taking such good care of you.” He gets down on his knees to kiss the back of your hand, “You’re safe here.”
He gets up to sit right next to you, he doesn’t flinch when you slap his face away when he tries to kiss you. The man only grabs your wrist when you try to push him away again. He kisses you with passion, in love but is it truly love when there is no trust?
There’s no use questioning his intentions, “This is for your own good.”
What good is there when there is no freedom? He thinks beautiful birds should be protected. Even if it meant being trapped in a cage, stripped of any sense of freedom, as long as you're safe, as long as you're here with him, he is content. "Dont give me that look."
Your eyes train on the way he rolls his eyes at your defiance, "Just let me go."
Sunday glares at you, his grip on your wrist tight, you're sure he's about to tear it off. "No."
When will you stop acting like a child?
The halovian is too far down the rabbit hole of self righteousness and his obsession with you that he if he needs to tear you limb by limb to keep you close to him, to keep you from rubbing away, he will do it.
His phone rings, it must be business calls again, Penacony sure is in a state of chaos when it's crumbling down. He lets go off you to take his phone.
"Yes yes... Sunday speaking."
You dont understand what they're murmuring about. All you could register is it's something about his sister.
His facial expression turned grim the more time he spent on the phone. The phone call ends and he puts it down, the life from his face drained but when he sees you, he is relieved.
You are still here with him.
He intertwined your hands together, you can feel anger and despair that he's exuding as he stares at you like a deer in the headlights. "Please, promise me."
"You'll never leave me too."
It doesn't sound like a question, it sounds like a statement.
You'll truly never know what freedom is, for that is only a privilege that you can never have. In his arms you cannot cry, because he'll drown you in his lies again and again.
On the bright side, you are never alone. You will always have Sunday, whether you like it or not.
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Note: bye i got extreme writer's block at Sunday's part I had to take almost a 2 week break bc i rlly have no idea what to write for him oh my god. I absolutely did not give them justice 😥
Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡ 
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floodkiss · 10 months
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Hold the British Museum accountable for copyright infringement!
Some of you may have seen this in the news, but a buddy of mine has had her translation work stolen by the British Museum. Yilin’s translations of feminist poet Qiu Jin has been taken and used in multiple formats in the physical exhibition as well as used in the exhibition book with no citation or credit attached. They did not inform her, they did not get permission, they did not credit her, and they did not pay her.
The British Museum’s correspondence with Yilin has been outright atrocious. From Yilin’s crowd justice:
They initially claimed they had just forgotten to credit me in the exhibit and offered to acknowledge me, and to send me a permission form, whilst emphasizing how other contributors let them use their work for free or at a low cost. Before I even had a chance to respond, especially given the 8-hr time difference, they contacted me 24 hours later to tell me that they had removed all my translations from the exhibit. […]
After lying to her and the public about the apology, they have continued to misrepresent the situation to journalists and treat Yilin, whose work they STOLE, like garbage. They have only corresponded with them in a condescending manner with coercive language regarding the work that they stole. Yilin is now hoping to raise at least £15,000 by July 10th in order to instruct expert lawyers in London to initiate a claim of infringement of their copyright and moral rights.
We cannot allow the British Museum to continue their legacy of theft, if they are not held responsible, then this cycle will only repeat itself. Additionally, if she is successful, she hopes to donate at least 50% of the funds back into the community.
Please share! (Read about the full thing below, and if you’re up for it, Here is the original tweet thread describing everything as it happened)
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firesnap · 1 year
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Nothing sealed in the Wet Cat Trying His Best But Doing the Worst like Hitting on 16. It wasn't the best story on AO3 I've ever read, and YES the formatting was atrocious, but man, the dedication cc!Wilbur had to telling his little RP story. He'd been ghosted, brushed off, had his own illness and travel plans derail things and STILL desperately wanted to wrap up a story with his little Minecraft guy.
He wanted it to the point that he was willing to open himself up to ridicule and memes by trying a completely new format. And yeah, the parasocial vibes are there. I just... I respect the dedication and love for storytelling. I loved the character moments.
Tommy gave Wilbur a glass of water.
The bad poetry.
Quackity had glasses ready before anyone was in his office.
BeeDuo played and went down a hill.
Like. It was the best dsmp content we'd gotten in six months at that point and I'm very happy it exists.
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artofkhaos404 · 5 months
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"Dating Edgar Allen Poe"
Bungo Stray Dogs
🖤SFW🖤
Drop any headcannon requests in my ask box or the comments, I'd love to do them! My fandom masterlist can be found at the bottom of my top pinned post.
_________________________________________
× Poe is a certified workaholic; total perfectionist. When it comes to his writing, whether it's a novel or some obscure poetry, you can get his attention on nothing else until it's exactly as he first envisioned it.
× Thus, there would be days he's working on a project and can't seem to reach those impossibly high standards. On these difficult days, when he's moping around being hard on himself and declaring he will abandon his career, it's up to you to comfort him. Remind him that his work is amazing, and so is he.
× Because that's his love language: words of affirmation. This man EATS IT UP when you give him reassurance, compliments, anything. He's having a low self esteem day? Just read over his shoulder, praise the intricacy of the written words and flirt. He'll be beaming.
× Poe is just as sweet and considerate when you have low self esteem days, maybe even more so! He's not the most socially aware, since he daydreams so much, so you'll have to let him know if you're down. When you do his response is always "I cannot imagine what for! You are as the moon in the night sky, the flowers of the valley." Corny? ABSOLUTELY. He talks to you like an 18th century poet. You thought it was weird at first, but now it's totally endearing.
× His love style is flamboyant; a traditionally romantic lover. Late night strolls and candlelight dinners- but he always does it his way. His favorite walks with you are in the rain, when you both dress in heavy jackets, you curled against his arm, under the umbrella. The candlelight dinners are always lit by black candles.
× Obviously, he's goth. If you aren't, he doesn't mind... but if you are, he'll love you even more for it.
× Though romantic, he's shy about it. Not the dashing gentleman, sweep you off your feet type. He's more the type that, when you come home from work, he'll have a surprise candle light dinner laid out with some soft goth rock playing in the background, dressed in his very best. He won't address it as anything unusual, but hopes you will praise him. And when you do, he blushes and stammers like nuts.
× I'm sure this goes without saying, but he also writes you romantic poetry. That stuff is like reading "Song of Solomon." Once again, never addresses it, but he'll leave any poetry he wrote for you under your pillow or beside your toothbrush in the morning, get up and get to work before you awaken and find it.
× He's fairly quiet and shy most of the time, content to listen to and watch you rather than interacting. But if you want to hear him talk, ask about his newest novel. He'll go on for HOURS.
× One stress between the two of you is that he struggles to take care of himself. Mind almost always on his work, he lives perpetually in his own fantasy world; the world he's building on paper. That often causes him forget to shower, eat, etc. If you've been out of the house, it's almost certain you'll return to a hungry, frail grease ball of a boyfriend leaned intently over his manuscript.
× Since he's LOADED, he spends ridiculous amounts of money on you like it's nothing. All his gifts are atrociously expensive, often times for no reason. It's rather concerning.
× And lastly, since he's more traditionally minded, he wants to wait to ~do the deed~ until marriage. However, he'll kiss and cuddle you every day, and he is SUCH a good kisser.
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bioethicists · 2 months
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Why do you use '+' and '/' instead of words? Not to be rude, I am curious
LOL thank you for being polite about this. i've gotten some pretty rude/condescending comments or tags about it (one person just tagged a post of mine "you can just type out 'and' babes, it's fine" which like... fuck off?). one person tagged a post of mine 'for further study' specifically of my syntax which my friends + family had a FIELD DAY with
there's a few reasons- partly bcuz i communicate via textspeak quite regularly + my texting is actually so much more atrocious bcuz i do not make an attempt to correct most typos. i keep pretty intense hybrid academic/field note/personal journals + i already used '+' in those for brevity's sake so that i could write faster. additionally, i have a compulsion which sometimes makes me feel the need to write words 3x before moving on but symbols/numbers are not usually affected by this + i suppose that on the flip side, my liberal use of / is related to the compulsive need to be as thorough as possible (as well as put things in 3s) + a fear that i will miss information + 'spoil' my point. i do very genuinely worry that my points will be 'wrong'/'contaminated'/'bad' if i don't put certain things in 3s.
but also, when i was hospitalized in 2022 i got very attached to my concepts related to dialectics + multiplicity + i got a tattoo of the '+' sign to represent this. with language, my goal is usually to tear it up (forgive me but that beckett quote rules my life) rather than string it together. using things like '+', '/', '|', liberal use of '()', etc (i've also felt quite compelled to make use of the assignment operator, '< -', but i'm probably going to confine that to poetry for the time being) lets me feel like i'm seeding my language with a sense of multiplicity while remaining (more) concise (than i could have been)
also also, i do a lot of programming for my job (like statistics/data analysis programming in R) + i've gained a great appreciation for the brevity/precision/elegance offered by programming. similarly, i do a lot of translation (well not so much anymore due to The Tasks) which similarly has brought me to a much more antagonistic relationship with the limitations of language + a desire to capture the thing in between it which is perhaps a really silly thing to claim i could do by replacing my '+' signs but. someday.
needless to say, my formal academic writing is NOT like this but my hope is to someday gain the resources i need from academic in such a way that i can dedicate 100% of my time to writing which aligns with these values.
if this seems excessive, it is because i am insane. hope that helps.
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aziraphales-library · 1 month
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Hi I'm looking for fic where Crowley gets tickled by Aziraphale. I'll take any rating but prefer explicit. Thanks!
Here are some fics featuring tickling...
Tickle Time by tagesknows (NR)
Food, drink and reading are not the only pleasures
Stand and Touch the Stars by RainingPrince (M)
The thing about snakes is that, if you aren’t careful, or you don’t know exactly what you are getting yourself into, their scales tickle. Mercilessly. If you are a battle-hardened younger sibling with decades of experience under your belt, or you happen to be one of the rare people on earth not possessed of even the slightest sensitivity to ticklish sensation, you may be able to handle it deadpan, given some warning. But even most of those who aren’t ticklish when it comes to other humans often have a hard time reconciling it when faced with the cool, solid reality of scales sliding across their skin. It’s wonderful, definitely, but it’s just delightfully strange enough that it’s hard to keep a straight face. At least, at first. ~~~ I wanted a Snake!Crowley asphyxiation kink fic with footrubs for aftercare so I made one. And then it needed poetry...
Human Affection by Lady of Prompts (G)
One night over drinks, Crowley makes an assertion about humans and kissing. After all, he *knows* these things, right? But Aziraphale refuses to believe him, and there's only one way to prove his point. Or, possibly, two idiots who are drunk and silly and very comfortable with each other having a very silly argument. Written for the Kisses_Bingo event, prompt: Behind the Knee Kiss -- Aziraphale’s hand was resting right there. Grinning, Crowley snatched it up and kissed the back of it. Well. Nearly. Thumb is technically part of the hand. “Crowley!” The angel jerked his hand free. “What’s that s’posed to prove?” “You din’ like it?”
Cupboard Love by CopperBeech (T)
Crowley's sulking in the boiler cupboard and won't be wheedled out. Aziraphale's at his wits' end. “I didn’t mean it.” Aziraphale’s voice is taking on that fussy, plaintive quality that goes with a quivering lip and a certain amount of unconscious hand-wringing, and normally you’d be half inclined to roll your eyes and bounce him over it and half inclined to tickle it out of him (he’s atrociously ticklish), but right now you’ve just had it with everything, and it is so nice in here. Aziraphale keeps those fluffy towels from Harrods in the boiler cupboard, the very palest beige, which are so lovely on the human corporation after a bath. When you’re a ten-foot long, glossy black snake with a crimson underbelly and a sour disposition, they’re merely excellent to curl up in.
Squirming-under-your-hands-ish. by Anonymous (E)
Perhaps a fetish revolving around such a playful, soft activity is something Crowley should be ashamed of, as a demon. But with Aziraphale's dreadfully soft, kind hands all over him, he can't quite bring himself to care.
Unexpected, But Long-Awaited by KitCat_Italica (E)
As they approached the bookshop door, Aziraphale felt Crowley squeeze his hand. He looked up, to see Crowley eyeing their joined hands, before raising his eyebrows at Aziraphale. “This is new,” Crowley said, softer than his usual biting drawl. Aziraphale smiled warmly. “Is it?” OR, Aziraphale and Crowley saunter vaguely toward consummating their love, with plenty of laughter and playfulness along the way.
- Mod D
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mrsdesade · 5 months
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silly date with the God of Mischief (headcanons part.1)
Timeline: before and during Thor Ragnarok
TW: no one/ just fluff
Pairing: Loki x fem!y/n
Note: this is my first time posting my stuff like this please be kind, English isn't even my native language so I'm trying my best; hope you enjoy 💚
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first of all, he's THE gentleman par excellence, from your first meeting until your relationship becomes official
he's the one who always listen to you without judging even If you did the most horrendous and atrocious things
he loves teasing and moking you sometimes, but absolutely in a lovely way
HOLDING YOUR HAND everywhere, everytime, always, in private, in public
his main love language is physical contact
if you decide to bring him to the Earth sometimes, he's not used to the human customs and traditions so the situation might become quite funny
on a coffee shop date he let you decide for him because he might feel disorientated, he's gonna love the jasmine green tea with vanilla you ordered for him
all the humans around are probably looking at him because...well... you're dating the man who attempted to conquer the planet many times
but he doesn't care so much, he has only eyes for you
"humans are so strange... don't get my wrong you're incredibile,but them...uh."
"Loki, you know that I'm not a human."
"oh yes, right, sometimes I forget that." (liar, he knows everything about you)
MATCHING OUTFITS, he offers to buy some clothes that resemble and match with his black suit
be ready to have a full wardrobe of luxury brand and a lots of jewelry made with Asgardian gold (and filled with his magic)
you can make fun of him calling him sugar daddy because he always pay everything for you and of course he doesn't understand the joke
"did you call me...sugar...what?"
on Asgard he loves looking at you with their traditional clothes on when you're walking in the Palace, without saying nothing, just admiring you
he never admit that but he find so funny when you're trying to read the Asgardian language on his books (he's definitely making fun of you when you misspelled something)
he read poetry and poems for you
he show you little magic tricks for everyday little things
If you can use magic or you have specific abilities he's 100% interested on learning more about you and studying your powers
ask you to exercise with him for learning using his knifes
wants you to feel secure and protected, always
at the night he loves staying with you besides the lit fireplace when there's a thunderstorm outside
he hides his spicy thoughts really well (maybe I can do here a specific post)
"close your eyes, I'll be here until you fall asleep; you don't have to pay attention to anything except my voice and my embrace, goodnight my dear."
For now we're done! Hope you enjoyed and as well I hope to being able to do a part two really soon 💚
Kisses~
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kris-mage-fics · 3 months
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1,3, 4, 24 and 25 for Kyrahlise and Blade for the OCxLI OTP asks!
When I saw your ask I had to do a double-take, because I figured that you’d ask about Kyrah and Chase! But Kyrahlise and Blade are fun too! And so frustrating before they get together, lol! Now, without further adieu, here are the answers to the Romance Asks *dramatically gestures towards the answers*
1. What drew your character to their LI and vice versa?
Blade was drawn to Kyrahlise because she’s kind, hardworking, always trying to do what’s right, and keeps improving her combat abilities and magic. She also acts like she feels at ease around him and teases him. (Which gets to my headcanon that he likes it when people aren’t afraid of him and act normal around him.) 
Kyrahlise was drawn to Blade because despite all he’s done and seen, he’s still very kind and considerate. Also he’s incredibly fun to tease! He respects her abilities and knowledge, and she feels safe speaking her mind to him because he gives what she has to say due thought. What seals the deal is in Chapter 4 when he’s so angry about what happened to her. It’s been a long time since anyone has given a shit if she were safe, or wanted to protect her.
3. When they are having a fight, what is it about and how do they deal with it? 
The number one thing these two would fight about is Kyrahlise feeling like Blade is overprotective of her, and Blade feeling like she is too independent and reckless. Once Kyrah understands just how scared he is of losing her, and that he needs to know she’s safe, she’s going to take a long hard look at how she acts. She’ll agree to work on making her safety a higher priority, and communicating better before she runs off. When Blade realizes that she feels a little stifled and like he doesn’t fully trust her, I’m sure he’ll agree to reign in his protectiveness to some degree. Of course it’s something they both have to work on to find a balance, but they will eventually.
The silly thing about this argument is that she likes that he’s protective, and he likes that she’s independent and wants to tackle problems! They just both think the other takes it too far.
4. Their favorite physical feature on each other?
According to Lena, romanced!Blade loves MC’s eyes, hair, and lips (or just face in general), and we know he’s into a nice butt! I change my mind regularly as to which is his favorite, but right now I'm going to say her eyes!
Kyrahlise loves Blade’s smile! It fills her with joy to see him happy and relaxed enough to genuinely smile. She has an internal ‘got the stoic, ex-assassin to smile’ counter! Overall she thinks he’s a very beautiful and handsome man, but his smile is her favorite.
24. Is there any moment that happens between them that you know happens and just makes you melt? 
One time Kyrahlise sat on Blade’s lap briefly as he’s working to tell him something and give him a little kiss before getting up to read. (He’s a head taller than her, so she uses whatever she can to make it easier to kiss him!) But Blade doesn’t want her to go, so she’s like “fine, I’ll just read here” thinking that he’ll eventually get tired of her sitting on his lap. She severely underestimates how much he likes having her close. But he’s warm, and she feels very safe and cozy, so she falls asleep. Since he doesn’t want to wake her up, he stops working. And he’s probably having a hard time not staring at her because he thinks she’s very cute!
25. Share any headcanons about their relationship.
As soon as Blade lets her, Kyrahlise starts cutting his hair. She secretly thinks his haircut is atrocious. Though once she gives him a better haircut she realizes she played herself because now he looks even more handsome! (Kyrah’s been cutting her own hair since her mother died. Most people can’t be trusted to cut curly hair right, and she’s a touch vain about her hair.)
They trade books of poetry with each other and then talk about which ones they like and why. It’s like a little book club with just the two of them!
Blade’s office stops looking quite so bare, because Kyrahlise makes him some art to put up. If anyone dares to criticize it or make any disparaging remarks about it in his presence they get his death glare!
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New Rule: The War on the West | Real Time with Bill Maher
New Rule: For all the progressives and academics who refer to Israel as an "outpost of Western civilization" like it's a bad thing, please note: Western civilization is what gave the world pretty much every goddamn liberal precept that Liberals are supposed to adore.
Individual liberty, scientific inquiry, rule of law, religious freedom, women's rights, human rights, democracy, trial by jury, freedom of speech. Please somebody, stop us before we Enlighten again.
And since one can find all these concepts in today's Israel and virtually nowhere else in the Middle East, if anything, the world would be a better place if it had more Israels.
Of course, this message falls on deaf ears to the current crop who reduce everything to being only victims or victimizers, so Israel is lumped in as the toxic fruit of the victimizing West. The irony being that all marginalized people live better today because of western ideals, not in spite of them.
Martin Luther King used Henry David Thoreau's essay "Civil Disobedience" to help shape the Civil Rights Movement. The UN's Universal Declaration of Human Rights owes its core to Rousseau and Voltaire. Kleisthenes never showed up for a sexual harassment seminar, but without him there's no democracy. The cop who murdered George Floyd got 21 years for violating his Fourth Amendment rights, an idea we got directly from John Locke, who no one in college would ever study anymore because he's so old, and so white, and so dead, and so Western.
Yes, that's how simple the Woke are. It's never about ideas. If it was, would they be cheering on Hamas for their liberation? Liberation? To do what? More freely preside over a country where there are no laws against sexual harassment, spousal rape, domestic violence, homophobia, honor killings or child marriage. This is who liberals think you should stand with? Women there should be so lucky as to get colonized by anybody else.
And for the record, the Jews didn't "colonize" Israel or anywhere ever, except maybe Boca Raton. Gaza wasn't seized by Israel like India or Kenya was by the British Empire. And the partitioning of the region wasn't decided by Jews, but by a vote of the United Nations in 1947 with everyone from Russia to Haiti voting for it. But apparently, they don't teach this at Drag Queen Story Hour anymore.
Now it is true that for too long we didn't study enough Asian or African or Latin American history. But part of the reason for that is, frankly, there's not as much to study. Colleges replaced courses in Western Civ -- boo! Eyeroll! Dead white men, am I right? -- they replace that with World Civilization classes, which is fine in theory, but what it meant in practice is you read queer poetry of the African diaspora instead of Shakespeare. And I'm sure there's value in both, but as usual, America only ever overcorrects.
And so, we're at this place now where the words "western civ" became kind of a shorthand for "white people ruined everything." But they didn't ruin everything. No, they didn't live up to their own ideals for far too long and committed atrocities. But people back then were all atrocious, not just the white ones depending on who had the power.
But it was the western Enlightenment that gave rise to the notion that the law of the jungle should be curbed. Henry David Thoreau. John Stewart Mill. Ralph Waldo Emerson. Jean-Jacques Rousseau. Three-named dudes. It was all about three-named dudes. Three-named dudes like that were the OG social justice warriors. The ideas that came through Athens, Rome, London, Paris, and yes Philadelphia, are what make life good for most people in free societies today. That the individuals have value, and even the powers that be must submit to the rule of law. That punishment should not be cruel and unusual. That accused people get a trial. That there is such a thing as a war crime.
Why is it that every other culture gets a pass, but the West is exclusively the sum of the worst things it's ever done? You think only white people colonized? Historians estimate that the very non-western Mr Genghis Khan killed 40 million people, and that was in the 13th century. He single-handedly may have reduced the world's population by 11%. On the other hand, he kind of made up for it, because he was such a prolific colonizer of vaginas that today an estimated 16 million people are his direct descendants.
So, stop saying "western civilization" like it's a contradiction in terms. It's not. You're thinking of "moderate Republican."
==
The people who snarl "western civilization" went to elite universities with air conditioning where they used their MacBook Pros and iPhones on extensive Wi-Fi networks.
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sery-chan-13 · 1 month
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Letters and Poems in the Drawer
Ch.9 of “My Sunshine” [TreechxReader]
Ok, so most of these are super cute and sweet. Some can be interpreted as a bit… lewd in a way. And I guess they kind of are? So I guess;
Warnings: some mildly risqué poems. And Treech being a simp-
The boy I shouldn't miss
Because he was never mine. But I can't stop myself from imagining myself in his strong arms. Wearing the stupid hat he wears everyday cause I stole it. Can't stop my stupid lovesick thoughts of kissing him soon as he steps off that damn train. He's the boy I shouldn't miss, but I do. He's the boy I shouldn't be writing poetry about, but I do. He's the boy I shouldn't love, but I do.
———
I love like a dog. Not the cute puppy way, with eyes that plead for you to love me... but in the mutt way. Begging for even a scrap. Loyal to the bitter end. I love like a dog. Staying even when I know there's nothing but hurt ahead, I'll lay in my bed without so much as a whimper, hopin' you'll look at me with the scrap of love I beg for. I love like a dog.
Treech softly played with the corner of the paper and considered burning the piece, something about how vulnerable the piece was. He glared at the paper, as if it was the paper’s fault he wrote all that. He put his head in his hands, and remembered how much you loved reading poetry. Especially the poetry that gave off so many feelings. He softly put it into the drawer.
——
Dear Treech,
You are not going to believe the audacity of this man. I mean, he's always been an asshole, but it pissed me off today. Festus Creed has been a pain in my ass since I moved here. He's always poked fun at me for being district, but I never paid him mind. Suddenly, I'm back in the class after summer break and he's flirting with me!!! Can you believe it, I mean seriously. Does he think I'm dumb? He plays with my hair in class and passes me notes I don't read. His hand writing and spelling are absolutely atrocious, so I wouldn't even be able to read it even if I wanted to. Anyway, I hope your day was great. Mine was. I got to punch Festus Creed in the face. It was during stage hitting practice, and I took the opportunity. I mean I started the waterworks and they all fell for it. Even Creed. I think Dean Highbottom knows... but he likes me, says I’m his favorite student, isn’t that silly? I mean with powers like these? Life is crazy.
Sincerely, your friend,
(N/N)
——-
There's a fine line between jealousy and obsession. I think I'm on the edge of it. I don't really know why. I mean I know you have friends. That doesn't bother me. It's... the way people look at you like they own you. Like you're already theirs. I might say that you're 'mine' but I know that you aren't something to own. I think... what upsets me the most is that you look like they've sucked any joy out of your life. You smile... but it's not real... I guess I'm just... I don't even know at this point.
Fuck
He scribbled on the page and groaned in frustration, upset that his words didn't string together the way they usually did. He crumpled it up and threw it in the small bin he had before sighing. He picked it out and smoothed the paper, folding it and placing it in the drawer.
——
Dear sweet sunshine,
I've been holding the necklace a lot more recently. I have it hidden usually. Firstly so it doesn't get damaged, and secondly because I don't want anyone to try and take it.
I look at it and wonder if you look at yours. You know, that ring was my grandfather's. My grandma gave it to him as a proposal. Isn't that so cool of her? Said she wasn't going to wait forever for him to propose and did it herself. Well, grandpa gave it to me because dad didn't want to have the ring. He said I was to give it to my special someone when the time came. And even though it definitely won't fit you, I think it's cute. I mean, I'll give you your ring back and maybe it will count as that. We were much too young to be thinking of all that, I still think no one deserves it more than you. When you come back I'm making sure it's perfect and shined up.
Much love,
Treech /\
         
——
Dearest Treech,
Yeah yeah it's the first time I actually use your name in one of these. Suck it up buttercup.
You won't believe what some kids tried to do today. I mean I know Capitol kids aren't the nicest, but this goes too far. With all the fine things they have, they tried to take my necklace! Some of them tried to stop the others. Like Pup Harrington. He ain't mean I guess... never says much but doesn't step in. Until today. Asked them why they wanted my necklace when they had nicer things. I mean I guess that was supposed to be insult? I don’t know. Hate Clemensia. She’s so mean. Said that it might be nicer, but mine was one of a kind. Coriolanus, his name is a mouth full, said she was acting no better than a district kid. Was it mean? Yeah. Insulting? Above else. But it made everyone stop. Sejanus scoffed a sarcastic sentence about us district kids acting better than the Capitol kids. I mean the teacher stood there! She didn’t do anything! I’m glad it’s my last year with her. Next year, we start the last four years of Academy.
Anyway, just needed to rant about them. Love you!
Sincerely,
(Y/N) ♡
——
I think about you. All the time. I try not to, you distract me. I mean, your dad makes so many public appearances, it’s hard not to stare at you on the screen. You’re gorgeous. So fucking pretty. Sometimes you talk, and your voice is so sweet… And I have to stop myself from thinking to much about it. I work alone most days, so I try not to get distracted. At night, when I’m alone in my room I can finally let my mind run and wander across everything. I mean it’s stupid. I sit at my desk and try to write but end up fantasizing about you and I. What kind of life would we have? Together, I mean.
——
There’s lots of things I’ve written I will avoid giving you. I don’t want you to know that I’ve been thinking about you in any way that might scare you off. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Love poems are one thing, no matter how embarrassing it is a guy like me writes them. The rest are thoughts and things I kept for fear of anyone reading them. If you asked me, I bet all it would take is one look from your pretty begging eyes, and I’d give in. Staring at the ceiling is pointless so I close my eyes and imagine you’re here with me.
——
Oh my darling, I will never find anyone as wonderful as you. The things I wrote poems about will come to fruition with you. You are now and have always been the subject of my poetry. You make me swoon, and my heart race. Your words are saccharine sweet when I hear them in my head. Butterflies flutter in my stomach and you made it easy to talk to you. I am completely comfortable around you I want to give you all of me all that I am…
You blushed writing the last lines, hiding your face in your hands. Was it even right thinking of him like this? Did he ever think of you like that? Were you both thinking of each other at the same time when your eyes flutter shut?
——
I’d beg till my voice goes hoarse, if you told me to
I’d drop everything, if you told me to
I’d fall to my knees in second, if you told me to
I’d take anything. All the pain, all the pleasure whatever it might be, if you told me to
I’d listen to every command, every wish, every fantasy, and make it come true. If you told me to.
Because I want to be just yours. All that to say I want to be yours. Your darling, your sweetheart, your beau, whatever you want to call me.
Your boy, only yours
How could I ever want anyone else?
Hehehe imagine simping that hard couldn’t be me anywayyyyy-
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I was asked in that Fanfic Writer Asks thing 💛 What is the most impactful lesson you’ve learned about writing? and I wanted to break it out into its own space.
The No. 1 Most Impactful Lesson is Write What You Want to Read
But I do want to speak about this for a minute because like everything important that I know about writing ALWAYS comes back to this idea, and there's two main points I want to make about it.
Your "VOICE" is about your taste and your ideas more than it is about your technical skill, language, and structure.
People I think stress about "voice" thinking that they need to develop their language and prose and rhythm and all the flowery poetry. I don't think it matters, personally. I think if you have an idea, the idea itself is the thing that drives the story.
Fanfic is awesome to use to learn how to write because it's accessible to everyone, and you get such a wide sampling of skill in one place. And sometimes you can see a really atrocious fic and it kinda teaches you what not to do, and helps you understand what you do or don't like as a reader, but sometimes you also see the good idea peeking through and you can enjoy it anyway. There are fics I ADORE that are so sloppily written, break all the rules, formatted like shit LOL, and I'm still HERE FOR IT because the author had such great ideas.
I'm sure anyone who's learned a second language had learned this, but, I remember when I was studying abroad that the college president welcomed us to the program and gave us this huge pep talk about how like, when you're out in the world speaking a second language, your grammar isn't important. If you can COMMUNICATE, that's what's important. If you can point to the apple you want to buy and say "Apple buy", the person will understand what you're trying to say.
So I think of writing that way, too. Your ideas are more important than your technical skill. Share the ideas. Keep sharing the ideas. The skill will follow when you're putting the time in.
2. Writing for fun is just as valuable as writing for work.
I took a long break from fanfic writing in my 20s because I kinda thought I'd "moved on" and that it had been my teenager hobby. And I had gone to college for photography and becoming a professional photographer really killed a lot of my passion for the art. College really brainwashed me into thinking creativity is a waste of time if it's not monetized, so even though I always enjoyed writing, I spent a few years being hard on myself and thinking it was stupid to waste time on writing fic because I couldn't sell it.
And that's such bullshit?
Because the truth is that, by telling myself "Don't write stuff you can't sell" I just wound up not writing anything at all?
And writing is like, my lil thing that that I do for fun. I can do it for fun. It feels good. It's the space I've made to be creative where I specifically don't have to worry about money, and I value it so fucking much.
I'm sure there are other people who bypassed this life lesson by NOT falling into a capitalist trap LOL but if I can share that, to help others avoid it, I will!
Write what you want to read, because it's fun, because you want to! Because you have good taste and that's your voice! You can be confident and stand up and say "I think this idea is cool so I'm going to share it with you!"
Trust yourself and your taste!!!!!!!!!!!! Don't stress about the technical stuff, it will follow!
(Bonus point #3 is bonus because it's a little more about technical stuff but if you start thinking about write what you want to read WHEN YOU READ it really helps inform how you think about your story structure and pacing. Like when I get stuck on a pacing thing I'm always thinking "Would this bore me if I were reading it? Would I want to be slow burned? Would I want more time spent on this payoff?" etc. I think that shift in mindset really helps when it comes to your story structure!!!!!!!!!!!)
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djservo · 7 months
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HELLO 😁🤭😋 in my being young hot and sexy moment i almost forgot and checking the calendar was a jumpscare! but i’m here, once again asking for your book wrap up. how was your september reading? (spoiler: mine was awful) horror on the horizon for october? awaiting the deets
always with the end-of-month jumpscares!! I feel like I've only just processed the ending of august, probably bc it was packed to the brim but STILL! crazy!! very solid reads this month, I'll give her (september) that
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Cool For You by Eileen Myles
got deja vu while reading and bc it reminded me of Eileen by Ottessa Moshfegh bc they both work in medical institutions and have this similar demeanor towards work so i was like? is Eileen based on Eileen Myles?? but I enjoyed this one far more, really dug her style of writing and generally autofiction as a genre lately. it's like the best of both worlds of more intimate-feeling fiction and memoir without this fragile energy an author sometimes carries when trying to frame their life as accurately as possible. I like how experimental it can get with the form of a novel in a way I thought Myles did seamlessly like all the jumping around different stages of her life really worked for me because there was a nice rhythm to it all. plus her writing voice is just so effortlessly charming + funny + playful, she could make anything sound interesting I'm sure. one of my favorite lines:
“I was a funny and stupid girl—Jesus sliding on a banana peel in the temple."
little silly tidbits like that, I can't not smile!
I Wished by Dennis Cooper
it's crazy to me that I've only started Cooper this year because his writing is so ridiculously special to me now. I was gonna hold off on this one til I've read more of his early poetry, but I think it was actually fitting to follow up my journey with the George Miles cycle with this as it was kinda like a self-reflection on the cycle. now having read several books by him, I realize the necessity of the digesting period each one needs because of how much more I get out of them the longer I ruminate, far removed from a freshly-read state to fully comprehend the piece as a whole if that makes sense. I don't even wanna read my previous blurbs about the cycle books because, though I remember loving them instantly, I'm sure my interpretations were barely scratching the surface of what/how I feel about them now,.... I feel like i've just talked myself into a circle/I've totally lost my grip LMAO but this was very sweet and sad and funny and sad again and it's just a miracle to me how striking his writing is even with how succinct it can be. absolutely beautiful!!
Quarry by Jane White
damn these boys are fucked up !!! I won't get too deep bc a lot of my thoughts come from the climax/ending of this book and I don't wanna spoil in case you ever read, but there's a funny formality running through it all that becomes funnier with every unfolding + atrocious act. surprisingly a lot of gay + incestuous subtext going on that my friend and I kept texting each other during reading like "did I really just read that ..." there were so many layers and dynamics to pick apart, far more than either of us were expecting I think. twas a fun and twisted time and makes me excited to continue on with this theme!!
I think I mentioned before that Quarry was the start of a planned trio, so Lord of the Flies is next which I guess is sorta fitting for October. I was just remembering how I read Jekyll & Hyde last October and am debating if I wanna do another classic (eyeing Frankenstein) or maybe American Psycho finally to dip my toes into Bret Easton Ellis... unsure if I wanna be simply entertained or wholly unsettled, will maybe try and find a perfect in-between balance ⚖️
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