@sabrinacanthang - Tumblr Blog

kneecuts

syrenki

your daughter is a pleasure to have on the dashboard

bismuth-soup

Reblog if prev is a pleasure to have on the dashbord

j-unos

yeah i love fanfiction i'll bite

i too am baffled. befuddled even. by what toronto could have done to kill the light in auston's eyes.

we may never know

a mystery for the ages

sabrinacanthang

I wonder if. ....GASP......it has to do with having fucking FUN!?!?!

ratatatastic

man who cooks and also would rather die than call them swedish meatballs. hes a finn dammit! when hes making them they!! are!! finnish!! meatballs!! (they are functionally the same)

BMW Teammate of the Month | 1.31.25 (x)

ratatatastic

if anything at least he's consistent

ratatatastic

CRINGE IS DEAD AND IM TIRED OF NOT SAYING WHAT I MEAN. HAPPY NEW YEARS, I HOPE ANYONE IN THE UNIVERSE CAN UNDERSTAND ME.

IX: BEGGING, PLEADING, MOSTLY WHINGING

Touch me.

Please.

I’m begging you.

I need the warmth—

a hand on the small of my back,

a glance held in a crowded room,

a breath at my neck,

a grip at my waist,

a mouth on mine.

I’m freezing.

Cold like this

does things you can’t undo:

frostbite in the fingertips,

the knowledge that no amount of liquor

can soften the bite

or dull how sharp it feels

to be this untouched.

Touch me.

Please.

I’m begging you.

I need the proof—

a touch at my wrist,

a murmur along my spine,

a hand brushing my jaw,

a tender kiss at my temple,

a thumb pressed to my lip.

I’m invisible.

I’ve been a ghost so long

it’s starting to feel permanent.

I don’t remember how to be real—

just a shadow in a room,

a specter in a doorway,

a chill someone notices

when they cross my path,

a cold corner in a warm house.

I want to exist to someone.

For someone to notice when I leave

and miss me for it.

To be angry when I disappear—

to demand I come back,

make me kiss them goodbye.

Being a ghost teaches you this:

out of sight

is out of mind.

Touch me.

Please.

I’m begging you.

I need the taste—

a kiss that isn’t fake,

a touch that isn’t accidental,

a look planned ahead of time,

a whisper meant only for me,

a body pressed gently to mine.

I’m starving.

I don’t want to sound desperate,

but I could devour someone whole.

I thought I could stay like this forever—

ignore the hunger,

pretend knowing the recipe

was the same as being fed.

Starving for twenty years

makes you want specific things.

Meals you plan in the dark and

strategize at the end of the day,

after you’ve looked away

from the pastry case and the menu,

long enough

to forget

what full feels like.

#oh my god #original poem #poetry #poets on tumblr #writers on tumblr #writeblr #like #new years fucking sucks

r-girl

orion-kenobi

Data centric episodes are like. Data has a dream. Data bakes a pie. Data gets tortured. Data makes a new friend. Data writes a poem. Data’s daughter dies. Data plays pretend. Data practices violin. Data almost kills someone.

abejpeg

Trouble with Tribbles

Struggle with Spots

defconprime

Numetal Album Cover

chazchaschad

AND YOU MAY FIND YOURSELF ON A BEAUTIFUL SHIP…. WITH A BEAUTIFUL CREW… AND YOU MAY ASK YOURSELF…. HOW DID I GET HERE?

redcheekdays

one trek headcanon I have is that plomeek soup is a chai tea situation. plomeek is just the vulcan word for soup, actually. on the first enterprise, having to make do with mostly earth ingredients, t'pol hashed together a simplified version of a comforting soup native to her region of vulcan and one thing led to another and now that regional variation of a single soup recipe is called soup soup by the federation