#mostly poetry

[lee-rambles-about-rwby]

that last reblog has me thinking about the fic I started writing several months ago about exactly that: “What was Ozpin like before the merge? What was his experience with learning he was the new host of an immortal soul??” etc etc

Real talk: if I ever get around to continuing it would anyone actually be interested in reading it? Because at the moment it’s purely self-indulgent lol. But if other people would want to read something like that maybe I’ll pick it back up sometime. Obviously it wouldn’t be as good as canon info, and idk how good of a writer I really am, but hey it seems fun

Basically the fic was based off a one-shot I wrote when I was like “Hmm, we saw how Oscar reacted to hearing a voice in his head. I wonder how that went for Ozpin? Oh wait! I can write! I’m going to write that!!” Then a few months later I decided I wanted to rewrite the one-shot so I could continue it as a full fic (I’ve never written a proper fanfic before) of just, Ozpin becoming a host near the end of combat school (at Signal) and then starting school at Beacon and just his whole experience with that

[the-lily-and-rose]

[poemsofatiredsomeone]

intro post

Wynn, they/them, nineteen, hobby writer

main/fandom blog: @sqenthusiast

art blog: @cptnwynnie

[sagegreythehazelpirate]

Spilled Milk

It’s just spilled milk they say, unusable so best to forget about it, water under the bridge it doesn’t really matter, there is always more milk, there are plenty more cows, yes there is always more milk, and yes there are plenty more cows, but I wanted that milk, the milk that’s been spilled, you say I can’t have it, because it’s spilled, contaminated, but it’s just spilled milk I say, and you repeat it’s just spilled milk exactly, just pour yourself another glass they both came from the same jug, but it’s not just spilled milk, it’s the milk I was going to drink, it’s the milk that I am responsible for spilling, and now because of my careless hand I have to give it to the cats.

[2amjournalpoems]

Little Spoon

I want to be the little spoon. I want a drowsy arm, uncomplicated and instinctual, to drape across my waist in the early hours. I want to be snuggled in a twin bed meant for two, and I want fingers to thoughtlessly tangle in my hair, scrape my scalp, and caress the strands. I want a face pressed into my locks, burrowed into my neck. I want legs wrapped around me, I want someone else to want to get as close as possible to me, something they desire in the haziness of sleep. I will meet you. Pressed tightly together, to tangle ourselves in each others’ limbs. I want safety, I want to cuddle your arm as you cuddle me. 

[hopeful-weirdo]

Just a casual reminder of the existence of my word blog @thescribbledheart

[aphroditeapproved]

Shameless self promoion

Follow my writing blog howtogetawaywithwriting.tumblr.com

[murder-of-the-crows]

It's 2 AM and I'M STRESSING ABOUT MY FORENSICS PIECE WTF IS THIS SHIT