#let me write

[cocosquid]

I've hit writer's block T_T

For both Secret Affair and the one shot Im working on.

I want to write.

[chmpngekisses]

trying to write part three but i get stuck every time i open the doc

[hexcii]

My wrist has started hurting super bad for several days each time I sit to write. Is this my punishment for torturing the blorbos

[snoopysupe]

i absolutely adore this newfound hatred for everything i write. makes me feel like a big dummy

[wondersmithswondelrand]

To be loved is to be seen

To be loved is not just a hand held in passing,

not just a smile offered because politeness demands it—

it is the quiet thunder of someone’s eyes finding you

in a crowded room where you thought you were invisible,

their gaze unpeeling your layers

like the ocean revealing shipwrecks

long buried under salt and silence.

To be seen is to be named without words,

to be recognized the way the stars recognize each other

across centuries of distance,

their light crossing impossible gulfs

just to whisper, I know you.

It is someone pressing their ear to your chest

and hearing not just the beating of a heart

but the storms, the cracks, the earthquakes

that built the rhythm in the first place.

To be loved is to be held

in the memory of someone else’s bones,

to be mapped like constellations

on the inside of their eyelids,

to be remembered even in the dark,

even in absence, even when

you are nothing but a trembling shadow

on the wall of their thoughts.

To be seen is to have someone notice

the way your voice trembles on certain syllables,

the way you flinch when doors slam,

the way you guard your laughter

like a rare bird afraid of hunters.

It is someone saying:

I saw that. I see you. You don’t have to explain.

To be loved is to be carved into another person’s time,

to be granted a corner of their breath,

a share of their exhaustion,

a piece of their midnight silence.

It is to be given not just what they have,

but what they don’t—

their strength when they are weak,

their tenderness when they are frayed,

their light when their own world goes dim.

And so the truth coils around itself:

to be loved is to be seen.

To be seen is to be loved.

There is no border between them,

no clean line separating sight from devotion.

One is the flame, the other the glow.

One is the hand reaching, the other the hand grasping.

One says I see you as you are,

the other replies and I still stay.

And in that infinite loop,

where love and sight consume each other,

we are finally whole.

Not perfect. Not unbroken.

But whole.

[palesweetdeeer]

I'm gonna have to wait till October to get my new keyboard.

...

I'm gonna kms oh my fucking god

[kerink]

bulk and i have an 80s era stan au that drives me crazy i wish i was a guy whod sit down and WRITE

[nosantaclaus]

OK STARTER CALL ......