#original wiritng

[ylaka]

“I love you. It's the worst possible thing I could do to you. But I do.”

– The Rape of Proserpina by Gian Lorenzo Bernini/ Lydia Yakovlevna Timoshenko (1903–1976)

[awaywardplantagenet]

One of the suckiest things about being a writer is coming up with a funny meme or text post about your work and not being able to post it because you're literally the only person in the world who would get it.

[screenname-silence]

November Love Story

Each night is a reminder of when we first met.

The halved moon engulfed us in cool light and still air-- hardly wet.

It was a cold November evening, I recall.

Alas, like the moon, we shifted, and it had to fall.

Our love was pure as a November evening,

but the season changed soon, and our hearts were leaving.

Fall romance acquainted us with love,

and now our minds are cluttered with the details thereof.

[burntcucumberclippings]

I just watched a video of someone making a voodoo doll and a glorious scene popped into my head so without further ado....enjoy

*stabbing noises*

*pausing and listening for noises of pain*

"nothing? hmmmm"

*noises of a voodoo doll being smacked into a table* 

"really? nothing?"

*voodoo doll being chucked down the stairs*

"goddammit they dyed their fucking hair again didn't they?

son of a bi-"

*angrily stomping down the stairs and muttering*

"the third fucking time this month, the third mother fucking time this month rhat I have had to go find my shitty neighbor and steal some of their hair for this stupid voodoo doll. why do I even try anymore?"

*huffing as they snatch a batch of cookies off the country along with bottle of wine*

"if I lose another batch of cookies go that good for nothing hooligan with the colorful hair I swear to the stars I will self destruct"

*door slams as they exit the home*

aaand scene

I hope my writing isn't terrible, I just had to get this idea out of my head before I fell asleep. I also hope it was as funny as I pictured it in my head 

[ash-la-rose]

I waited with a hand over my glass to keep the fruit flies out. I took a humid sip and tried not to think about the bugs.

‘If you’re gonna worry, be consistent.’ I reminded myself.

***

Like always, Sage blew in with the wind. She was a breath of fresh air.

“Are there any blackberries left?” She asked.

“We’ve got about an hour of daylight to go find some.” I said.

We walked through my dusky neighborhood, cups in hand, laughing too loudly. We followed crunchy vines that had braided themselves into fences. Late berries hung on in clusters, taking shots of filtered light. It was last call.

“Did you know blackberries have worms in them?” I asked, picking through the brambles.

“Like, all of them?” She laughed, plopping a few under-ripe berries into her drink.

“Yeah, little fruit fly larvae.”

I reached up and inspected a very shiny berry. It came off easily with a puff of pollen, staining my fingertips dark purple. Tangy seeds and saccharine flowers.

We’d had our fill so we moved on. Drooping sunflowers towered over us. We bit into rose-hips from the witches’ briar and spat them out.

At the end of my street, there’s a stream. Sage found a patch of white clovers. We sat for a bit looking for some luck.

“There were four-leaf clovers in the garden of Eden.” I said.

“Wasn’t there also a talking snake?” She stood, tucking her hair up into her hat. The orange skies cast pink on her cheeks.

“Poison fruit too, I think?” I laughed.

Sage smiled mischievously and dropped a clover into her glass.

“Into the sangria!”

***

I put my wine on the floor. There was a coffee table across the room, covered in mail. I crossed my legs and pressed my back into the overfilled couch cushions. I stretched up my arms and sighed.

Music rattles the floors here. I spotted a tiny fly paddling drunkenly through a burgundy wave pool.

Jace played idly, draped over his guitar, looking at his hands but not really seeing them. Even his passing refrains are unexpectedly lovely.

A fly flew into my ear. I panicked and batted at the side of my head.

“You ok?” He asked.

“You should really clean up.” I pouted. I touched his hair but he didn’t look at me.

That night, I listened. I waited. I picked little bugs out of my wine and I drank it anyway.

[afireandpowderkiss]

— l.k.a (afireandpowderkiss)

[imdreaminadream]

Misused/Mispronounced Phrases

> Post 1; Dead Set & I couldn't care less

[runningmindspilled]

if every single person in the world were in front of me i would still chose her.

if all the worlds gold was piled in front of me i would still look for her.

if the sky turned magenta and cloud were made of cotton candy i would still be looking at her.

i use one out of three genie wishes and it would be to be with her.

i would battle the comets of space to protect her.

i would touch the moon if it meant getting to feel the hand of her.

i would spend the rest of my days tied down by my mind if it meant my love for her

pressed against my cheek like a tree planting it’s roots in new soil.

she dug into my skin and planted roots in the darkest parts of my heart.

she feeds on sunlight and divinity that flow through the branches and touch my soul.

when my soul retires to the world beyond us, when my soul faces decision of resting and life, i will come back everytime to love her one more time.

i have no fear of ever losing her, for i know my soul will spend lifetimes returning.

to her.