Fertile

She/They Queer 26 

[ao3feed-tododeku]

A Spring Evening

A Spring Evening by keraekun

Kirishima is always the groomsman and never the groom

OR

Kirishima and Bakugou meet and fall in love at Todoroki and Deku’s wedding.

Words: 1205, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Eijirou, Midoriya Izuku, Todoroki Shouto

Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou, Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto

Additional Tags: Established Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto, Bakugou Katsuki & Midoriya Izuku are Best Friends, bestman Bakugou, Groomsman Kirishima, Married Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto, Alternate Universe - No Quirks, Aged-Up Character(s), Getting Together, Wedding Night, Meet-Cute, First Meetings, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Wedding Fluff, a little angsty I guess?

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40244202

[hippoth0tamus]

oh my god I wrote this!! Thats crazy!

[pocketrandomgirl]

The loneliest sweet potato by Sabrina Benaim

So, i’m at the grocery store because i feel sad

 I feel sad because nobody is in love with me 

Nobody is in love with me but everybody loves me.

Everybody loves me because i’m good at making people feel good

 I’m good at making people feel good because i’ve got a lot of practice on myself 

Practice on myself because i feel sad a lot 

I feel sad a lot , but when i’m making people feel good, i feel good for a little bit.

I feel good for a little bit and then i get lonely 

I get lonely and i am uncomfortable in my loneliness

In my lonely at the grocery store, i practice trying to make myself feel good by pretending i’m a regular person

Buying her groceries, not a very sad person trying not to cry

Crying gives me a headache

Headaches makes me want to crawl into bed and crawling into bed is what sad people do. 

What sad people do when they are lonely looks a lot like me at the grocery store.

In my lonely at the grocery store i feel sad

But a i look just like everybody else

While picking out avocados and lemons 

Items nobody refers you as “comfort food" 

Comfort food makes me want to crawl into bed

To crawl into bed reminds me of two things: I am sad and i am alone.

I am alone at the grocery store moving slow in the condiment aisle

Everybody knows in the condiment aisle, it is perfectly acceptable to stand around for too long

Stand around for too long and i will began to tap dance ‘Tap dance lonely in the grocery store’ is a fantastic name for a book ; I think to myself while waiting in line to reach the cashier

The cashier seems surprise when i asked her how her night is going

Her night is going 'ok’ she says

She says nothing else except cash, credit or debit

She waves goodbye

Goodbye is the saddest word i know

The saddest word you know is my name

My name walks around at the grocery store and feels less sad

Less sad because at the grocery store at least nobody knows

There’s nobody in love with me

[derangedrhythms]

How is your life with the other one,    simpler, isn’t it? One       stroke of the oar then a long coastline, and soon    even the memory of me

will be a floating island,    (in the sky, not on the waters): spirits, spirits, you will be    sisters, and never lovers.

How is your life with an ordinary    woman?        without godhead? Now that your sovereign has    been deposed (and you have stepped down).

How is your life?  Are you fussing?    flinching? How      do you get up? The tax of deathless vulgarity    can you cope with it, poor man?

‘Scenes and hysterics        I’ve had     enough! I’ll rent my own house.’ How is your life with the other one    now, you that I chose for my own?

More to your taste, more delicious     is it, your food? Don’t moan if you sicken. How’s your life with an image    you, who walked on Sinai?

How is your life with a stranger    from this world? Can you (be frank) love her? Or do you       feel shame    like Zeus’ reins on your forehead?

 How is your life? Are you    healthy? How do you        sing? How do you deal with the pain    of an undying conscience, poor man?

How is your life with a piece of market    stuff, at a steep price.  After Carrara marble,    how is your life with the dust of

plaster now?  (God was hewn from    stone, but he is smashed to bits.) How do you live with one of a    thousand women           after Lilith?

Sated with newness, are you?    Now you are grown cold to magic, how is your life with an    earthly woman, without a sixth

 sense?  Tell me: are you happy?    Not?  In a shallow pit How is your life, my love? Is it as    hard as mine with another man?

Marina Tsvetaeva, Selected Poems; ‘An Attempt at Jealousy’, tr. Elaine Feinstein

[andythelemon]

forget me not / 3.10

[alythekitten]

KiriBaku Month Day 27: Cowboys~

How can I draw something without thinking about @neal_illustrator amazing CowboysAu? Another homage to her amazing work 😚

[holyisthenameofmyruthlessaxe]

You can never have too much sky. You can fall asleep and wake up drunk on sky, and sky can keep you safe when you are sad. Here there is too much sadness and not enough sky. Butterflies too are few and so are flowers and most things that are beautiful. Still, we take what we can get and make the best of it.     Darius, who doesn’t like school, who is sometimes stupid and mostly a fool, said something wise today, though most days he says nothing. Darius, who chases girls with firecrackers or a stick that touched a rat and thinks he’s tough, today pointed up because the world was full of clouds, the kind like pillows.     You all see that cloud, that fat one there? Darius said, See that? Where? That one next to the one that look like popcorn. That one there. See that. That’s God, Darius said. God? somebody little asked. God, he said, and made it simple.

The House on Mango Street, Sandra Cisneros (via deformititties)

[memoryslandscape-deactivated202]

All I’ve wanted was words, that magic to soothe me a little, what you could not give me.

Sandra Cisneros, from “Eyes of Zapata,” Daughters of the Fifth Sun: A Collection of Latina Fiction and Poetry, eds. Bryce Milligan, Mary Guerrero Milligan, and Angela de Hoyos (Riverhead Books, 1995)

[firstfullmoon]

Sandra Cisneros, from “Drought,” in My Wicked, Wicked Ways [ID in alt text]

[thyr1a]

Bro… 🥹

[chonideno]

felix 11k; neighbors AU; meet-cute

the cat is a ball of reddish brown fur and unabashed cockiness, and he purrs his way into bakugou’s list of living things he likes to have around, bringing a +1 with him

or how bakugou meets his neighbor, and everything sharp and pointy starts looking soft and squishy

The last addition to my AO3 account and a hug in fic form. Still warms my heart when I think about it, I can’t thank Fran enough for letting me play with her AU.

read it on ao3 || related posts

[intimatum]

Sandra Cisneros, “I Am So Depressed I Feel Like Jumping in the River Behind My House but Won’t Because I’m Thirty-Eight and Not Eighteen,” in: Loose Woman: Poems

[jesuistitanialablonde]

Not a flat. Not an apartment in back. Not a man's house. Not a daddy's. A house all my own. With my porch and my pillow, my pretty purple petunias. My books and my stories. My two shoes waiting beside the bed. Nobody to shake a stick at. Nobody's garbage to pick up after.

Only a house quiet as snow, a space for myself to go, clean as paper before the poem.

— Sandra Cisneros, House of My Own, from The House on Mango Street

[allloversbetray]

One Last Poem For Richard by Sandra Cisneros

[wasabi-gumdrop]

reworking the retro design over the past few months 💕

most of the time I don’t think I’m improving at all — but then I look at some old art and realize perhaps I’m not doing so bad (,:

[hippoth0tamus]

I WILL NEVER RECOVER FROM THIS 

[dzueni]

…her name’s natsuki

[guerrillatech]

[hungryfictions]

sandra cisneros, the house on mango street / tatyana nilovna yablonskaya - morning, 1954 / anatoly levitin- warm day, 1957 / harry sutton palmer - a cottage garden, 20th c. / phoebe bridgers, i know the end / sarah abraham - one fine morning, 2013 / theo gosselin - denver morning 5, 2015 / gaston bachelard, the poetics of space / federico zandomeneghi - in bed, 1878 / laura ingalls wilder /colley wisson- morning light kyneton australia, 21st c. / @gabi_wahl on instagram / lauren jolly roberts - cecile’s garden, 2006 / maya angelou, all god’s children need traveling shoes