there are lives that you’ve touched; people who burn brighter simply because of the way that you’ve graced them—and it’s not always obvious; more often than not, the imprint is quiet. you are carried nonetheless.
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You cannot convince me that diluc doesn't write poetry, or at least keeps a diary. He is so dramatic, have you heard how this man talks? He's a poet in private and it's a secret he'll (try to) keep to his grave.
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Suptober: close shave
it was a real close shave when cas got drunk and almost kissed him. he almost made a terrible mistake, dean is sure that that's all it was. a mistake.
typed out text in the alt text if anyone needs it
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Desire
God I want you
in some primal, wild way
animals want each other.
Untamed and full of teeth.
God I want you
in some chaste, Victorian way.
A glimpse of your ankle
just kills me.
Mouthful of Forevers by Clementine von Radics
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I sit in my car feeling empty and alone
as the radio sets a sad lonesome tone
I see sunbeams cascade through fields of golden brown
with patches of flowers that form such lovely bright gown
Across the horizon I see a purple-lit sky
and by god I finally finally start to cry.
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the moon's ethereal but a haunting sight today.
—september three, twenty twenty three
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transcript under cut:
Papaya
Leah Saint-John
The right eye loves the left,
Shoshanna. It’s why it keeps slipping:
it’s trying to spill out.
As if the head were a taper. A fruit,
overripe.
As if,
having fallen together,
the rings of the pupil could hinge,
locking within them the self’s chambers,
that blessed inner dark.
Dumb vitreous amber.
Dumb wax.
But isn’t this a lovers’ common want?
A return to the surety
we crawling,
stuttering ones
had when we had one body, four arms.
Before. Do you remember?
Before.
That lower earthline,
lush with ferns. The stunned hitch in the angel’s breath
when he was asked to their shadow,
when his cock was first touched. His hiss
and the pause after,
his chapped,
fervid,
perfect mouth.
When we were sinking I thought the Deluge was worth it,
if only for that.
The punishment of all this light.
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so the Captain and Havers definitely kissed at least once, whether by drunken fumblings of duty and decorum, in a desperate farewell, or while fragile and alone together on an early summertime stroll. but they left everything else unspoken because they had to.
they fought against it until the last second, signing over their vulnerabilities forever into one moment, only to bury it again after.
but that lingering sentiment was always what brought them back together.
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