AlphabetSwoup🍜

Hyperfixation Station of the Century/ I take requests/ Touched pretty much every fandom under the sun/ 20 and starved for niche fics

[alphabetswoup]

Do not fear. You will always have a place with me.

I have built you a home in my heart, among many others. Bricks laid with care and a kitchen that is always warm. You needn’t live there- you needn’t worry to. I will stoke the fire for you. I will keep the dust from the window sills and the pillows sweet in their cradles.

Your name is on the mailbox, it has hundreds of words waiting for you inside. Memories and thanks. Condemnations and confessions alike, and they will all wait for you.

Your letters will wait, and your home will wait, and it will always be warm, and it will always be for you.

[alphabetswoup]

The Sun

*Some bad poetry for ya✨*

There’s something so utterly enrapturing about watching him exist. A stray ray of sunlight streams through the window, and his head tilts just so, leaning into it like it’s the hand of a gentle lover, and suddenly he is alight.

The forest of his lashes, made ashen and thick under the suns attentions, frame russet eyes. Almond and heavy lidded and glowing.

The only shadow left on his face, laid bare and lovely by the setting sun, are the curling branches of his lashes, cutting across his cheekbones like a river through a mountain.

His brow is cocked, almost demurely, almost smugly. The knowledge of his beauty creeps out from the upturned crook of his lip and promises that ‘Yes. He knows he is lovely, but he would love to hear how much you agree.’

There is something so effortless about his perfection. Nature itself bending eagerly to catch a glimpse, to see it and touch it and show it to all the world.

“Look! Look and see this wonderful thing I have made.”

And the world does.

It looks and it marvels.

[alphabetswoup]

Imposter

God I want so badly to be what I was.

To crack myself open and spill myself out for you to examine.

For you to look at it all down the bridge of your nose and say: “Yes. Yes this is familiar. This is you”

I want it so badly I cannot breathe, that every step I take towards being myself are taken in shoes that don’t fit me anymore.

I want it so badly that I spend more time trying to be the person I was than actually being them.

I try so hard so much that it’s only natural I fail.

That this stilted, paled version of me is apparent and noticeable and noted.

That I am seen and judged and the weight of my own mantle grows heavier with each failure to measure up.

I don’t understand how I’ve managed to live in my own shadow, how I’ve failed to meet the standards I, myself, set.

But every time I fumble trying to be that person, to be me properly, I can feel myself getting shorter.

I can see the bar getting taller and taller and taller.

Only the bar hasn’t changed at all.

It’s the same height it’s always been.

Im the thing that’s changed.

I’m just so small now.

[alphabetswoup]

Hungry

(TW: eating disorder)

There is something foreign, in what is meant to be my home.

I do not recognize my body.

The planes of it, those smooth and creeping waves of skin, are strange under my fingertips.

Bones, resentful and furious, jut against the thin stretch of it. Pushing up with desperate fingers from as if to escape.

Collarbones and ribs and wrists that are not my own anymore.

They are too sharp, too mean, and too hungry.

What is this thing, that has taken over the heart of me?

This clawing and starving thing that has changed my foundations and made me unrecognizable to my own hands.