Prayer scratched into the side of a blue light emergency phone station by Keaton St. James
(patreon)
[poem text: here’s a truth i’ve never told anyone else: in summer i ache more than in any other season. i wish i could say i’ll be bright for you, but i worry about my tongue turning to ash at the first syllable. i’ll be soft for you though, a nectarine under kitchen lights, a bolt of unstitched silk, an echo that never belongs to the mountain cliffs, only to the dewy salvia flowers below, to the hummingbirds that alight on them with throats already scarlet. i don’t want to cut myself open to let out the thunderstorm dashing against my ribs!
i want a dissolving so quiet even the rainbow cannot feel it. deliver this to me, and i promise, god, i’ll never again flinch like a deer beside the river who thinks any touch of wind must become gun smoke. i’ll give you my canine teeth, my vegetable garden, my monday nights and my thursday afternoons. i’ll go dancing. i’ll throw out all my knives
.do you remember in winter when i put cayenne in each mug of hot chocolate, when i lent a friend my scarf for our whole walk home, when i was unafraid of singing? how those days shone like velvet? i don’t know how much farther i can stagger with sun-blistered shoulders and heat-dizzied eyes. i am so tired of all this asking and unanswering inside my blood.
listen, you needn’t bring me everything. not all parts of the healing have to be noticed either. i’m just looking for a settling which does not come bearing glances over the shoulder, but sunrises, honeysuckle, laughter, amen. /end poem text.]
it's time again for the ✨#ADHDCosmicTakeover!✨
my comic this year is about pinballing helplessly between interests and the frustrating feeling of being a "jack of all trades, master of none"
(but who said i have to be a "master" of anything anyway? fuck off!)
thank you so much to dreamadoodles for organizing this year! pls check out the tag to see more comics from other contributors 🌠
“Pet goes missing” for the SL prompt! IMAGINE THE LITTLE KITTY AW
Moon-Centric | Wordcount: 1,252 | A03 Version
(Contains some light flirting)
The kitten has been gone for about a day now.
It was an accident. Someone left the door open while bringing in groceries (that you had bought) and maybe didn't see something small and quick run out from underneath their feet (there were bags in the way) and didn't notice until a certain animatronic is filling up the kitten's food bowl before scouring the house with special eyes and very much on edge when he cannot find the little friend, no matter how you try to console him.
(Which isn't long, because you're already putting on your shoes and jacket from when you first noticed the absence of the newest addition to your home, as fast as you can manage because there's a robot with three limbs out the door ahead of you.)
Which brings you here, in the fridged cold of midnight out on the streets, rubbing your hands together and blowing visable breath clouds as your animatronic friend crawls on top of fences and light poles in his search.
Moon is clad in thrift store sweatpants and a t-shirt while you're bundled to the max, and his lack of need for warmth is something you envy right now. "She's probably where she stayed before Gramps found her and took her to us." You breathe into your hands as you walk, a audible chatter in your teeth. "We could start there?"
"No. Damp there." Moon crawls like a spider, uncaring about his form in the outside world. He misses his wire, but he has no problem getting to high vantage points; something that comes in handy when on the search for a kitten in the dead of night. "She'll be somewhere warmer. Not on concrete."
"...Like a exhaust pipe of a car, or a dumpster. Got it." You sigh. With this cold, it's worrying for the kitten, fur or not. It doesn't take a scientist to know that Moon too knew this detail. You would only hope that your searching would not end up fruitless. Or worse; tragedy.
The roads you walk are empty, save for cars that pass by every twenty minutes or so. The animatronic is probably using infared vision to find her, judging by how quick he scoured the bushes and is now crawling on all fours to look underneath the cars parked on the side of the road. Your frown deepens, worry lines sinking in. "Hey, don't stress out. She might find her way back home, too."
Moon doesn't look at you, but makes a noise of aknowledgement.
"We'll find her. If not tonight, we can put out missing pet posters in the morning." Hiking your jacket to cover your neck, you curl into the warmth and look out onto the dark street. It's wet with recent sleet, and the reflection of still lights feel warm in contrast to the air. You sigh, turning back to Moon. "Maybe if we put a shirt and food out, we can-HEY, Put the car down, Moon! Don't pick that-put it down!"
Moon has the backend of a parked car lifted upwards a foot or so off the ground, his head swivels to frown at you in disagreement, but the robot settles back tires back on the pavement quietly and crawls (yes, crawls) on all fours away from the street, onto the sidewalk and up on the fence where he stays crouched. "Just looking."
"You're already crawling. It's not hard to crouch a bit more to check under the cars." You sniff, and see a runny nose in your future. "Don't get us arrested."
Moon's gaze is red and focused, darting to and fro as you walk and briefly turning to you as you round the corner, pausing. "Cold?" He asks, and continues before you can answer. "Home. Go."
"Not a good idea to have you out here by yourself." You snort. A puff of air comes out of your nose as you do, and the animatronic's head tilts at the sight. "Don't want you lifting cars or doing...I don't know, Grand Theft Auto to find the cat."
Moon stands to his full height on the fence, survalience mode returning, scanning. "Cold's not good for you. Or her."
"I'll live-." Your response is cut off as his hand comes up, signaling to be quiet.
"Hush." He hums something quiet, coiling into someone's backward, halfway leaning down the side of the fence and calling out into the darkness. "Pssp pssp pssp pssp pssp."
You try to look over the fence and into the yard, but the space behind the wood is dark and there's nothing you can make out besides fog and some foliage. "Moon?"
"Baby." He says. You raise a brow and there's a moment of pause before he continues. He wears a comfortable grin. "Cat baby. Not you, baby."
"Stop it."
"No."
"Is the kitten over there?" You crane your neck a little further, listening. You don't hear any meowing or anything rustling, and there's a barrier in the way otherwise you'd investigate yourself. "This is someone's backyard, it's kinda trespassing-"
"Says the trespasser." Moon scoffs, and suddenly without warning, leaps from the fence into the darkness.
You wait there awkwadly on the sidewalk, curling further into your jacket and listening to the crikets. You're only alone for a few moments though, a blur shoots back into your vision and Moon reappears, crouched atop the wooden fence, gripping for balance with one hand hard enough it splinters the wood; in the other hand something is held close to his chest.
The kitten is held to his t-shirt, looking blearly eyed, a little doozy but unharmed. It's mouth opens in a tiny yawn and it's limbs stretch out in Moon's palm, and said animatronic's happy face faulters a little in a deadpan at the realization that he just woke the kitten up from sleep.
"The kitten!" You exclaim, smiling. Moon hops off the fence, careful as the kitten seems to be coming to her senses. Without asking, he pulls open the front of your jacket at the top, unzipping it a bit and putting the kitten at your collarbone. Your arms and hands come up to hold it there, keeping it close to your chest where the warmth is the strongest. She's chilly, but not bone-cold. You sigh in relief. "She must have found a little shelter back there somewhere."
"Not enough." He zips up your jacket as quick as he undone it, just where the kitten's head sticks out. She looks a bit startled, not alarmed, but a tiny mew sounds out from your neck at the realization of her holders. Moon brings a finger down to brush against her head. "Home, now."
"You don't have to tell me twice." Spinning on your heel, you start the brisk walk back towards the apartment. Moon is faster besides you than he is behind you, not following along on the fence but hunched over to your side, walking in long strides with you.
A brisk wind makes you shiver, but you're careful to protect the kitten from the cold's bite. "She needs a bath. There's muddy gunk on her legs." You sigh. "You know, a hot bath myself wouldn't sound half bad."
Moon moves to your other side, breaking the wind's gust on you and hoisting an arm around your shoulders. Judging by the way he was pacing, he wanted you out of the cold, and probably was going to force you to sleep the second you stepped through the doors. "Later."
Not people saying “Fandom has always been like this” in that vent post I made. No. It hasn’t always been like this. Fandom has NEVER been like this until recently and if you were in fandom pre-tumblr purge, pre-twitter, pre-netflix boom, pre-tiktok….then you would fucking know it was nothing like this.
We still had the drive to create. We still sold prints and charms and made zines…but it was never like this.
The introduction of streaming, binge shows that drop all at once, tiktok and vine RIP i still love u vine but you were the beginning of a particularly ugly era) creating this bite sized, quick paced ‘content’ era of creation and it bled out into fucking everything else.
Fandoms didn’t die down when the show ended or the season was over. You didn’t mass unfollow artist, writers or moots just because they changed fandoms. There wasn’t this need to please the algorithm in order for your posts to get seen by people and enjoyed.
Fandoms used to last YEARS. Star Trek is literally the oldest running fandom out there and you got people in there that could care less about the new stuff and still have been happily prancing through their fucking fifty year old fandom today. Hell, even SPN after all it’s fuckups and shitshows has a dedicated fanbase STILL creating tons of art and fic.
There is no patience anymore. No calm feeling of taking in fandom and friends at a pace that which doesn’t make you stressed and is still fun.
Do I blame fandom for this? Of course not, but people are complacent with it and start changing their vocab to accommodate and end up making the situation so deep it cant be fixed.
We call Art & Fic Content now, completely stripping the value of what it is to a level of consumerism instead of personal entertainment & community bonding.
where Reader was accused of being a witch by their village and permanently harmed and then cast out, finding themselves living alone in a cursed wood with two spirits who seek to study them and spite them (and who come to love them)
Girl help I've been reading too many fics of the same ship and now when they update I have to skim the previous chapter like I'm trying to remember a person's name without asking them outright.
stormborns
dailybridgerton
2087
janainaart
tangentwithtanner
andulkaphoto
romaincrisis
yousharknotpass
jbbartram-illu
izzy806
