#wren's intercom

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MISSION REPORT:

◇-Name: Wren — bi-gone—she/him

◇-Houston intercom - Hozier, Jeff Buckley, Janelle Monae, Billy Joel, Queen, Joy Crookes, Dea Matrona, Sofia Isella, Heart, Fleetwood Mac, Led Zeppelin, Jimi Hendrix, Paramore, Hayley Williams, Rory Gallagher, Luvcat

◇- National teleplay - Justified, Santa Clarita Diet, Psych, Monk, Elementary, Dexter, Derry Girls, Poker Face, Dept. Q, Russian Doll, Hannibal, Arrested Development, The Golden Girls, New Girl, True Detective [S1, S4], Abbott Elementary, Widow's Bay, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (1979)

◇- She is happy to be your mutual if you'd like. Simply reply to this and if he is comfortable following you back you can both shine your shoes on the moon together

Mission allies

◇-Why her mutuals are superior

◇-Her mutuals as songs

Each new mutual will be added to the lists.

Blacklist:

♧-Transphobes, Radfems, terfs, zionists etc etc

Additional note:

♧- the Cosmonaut doesn't take tolerate to folks bringing discourse/arguments in his notes, inbox or personal messages. He will not argue his beliefs or tastes with you. If you don't like what you find here you are free to use the escape-hatch

Mission run-through:

Wren reblogs for laughs - things I reblogged for humour

Wren reblogs for enrichment- things I reblogged from my fandoms

Wren posts for enrichment- same as above, for my original posts

Wren's trusty gramophone - opinions about music, music recs, etc.

Wren's trusty bookmark- same as above, only for books and stuff

Wren rambles- my own little additons to posts/ original posts.

Wren et al- posts involving my mutuals (specific mutuals will be tagged)

Wren concurs - a misc tag I use for things without a category that I agree with generally (might vary)

Wren answers mail - answering inbox messages (either on or off anon)

Wren needs to show you something- important things I believe you should see

Wren left her barbequeue on - things in my queue

Wren's intercom- my own writings, art, etc that i post here

Wren's assortments - collecting trinkets

Wren's Polls - what it says on the tin, just for polls

Anons galore - Anonymous tag

(Thing will be mistagged ocassionally. Such is life)🖤

(Quote in the title is from Moondance by Van Morrison; pfp by @/irun2u)

Dividers by @/enchanthings

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My first attempt at drawing! Considering I was never an artist when i was younger and that this is my first time I'm ok with this. Im gonna keep doing proportions for a while till im confident with them.

my tag for this is "wren's secret menu" so block that tag if u want to.

(Open to critiques/tips)

Tagging: @mint-mayonnaise @imslowlydisintegrating @beomgyutruther @hometownangels

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Would any of you read a very long and very silly piece of prose poetry by me be honest

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You will find me surrounded by rot. Humble dwellings, but I'm not good enough to try being humble. Not big enough to shrink myself down. It just fits me is all. The smell isn't so bad after a while. There's blood in it, the blood of something that used to be fresh, young, bleeding but alive. Maybe I'm alive. Are you still alive when you don't move?

When you don't think about much, when you don't search for anything, when you can't want anything, when you're so still and unmoving and numb Death almost mistook you for one of his own? When you wish he had? The rot is there for camoflague, to house me. You won't see me against the stains, won't hear my heartbeat over the routine groans of sorrow, won't smell the hurt fresh as ever over the stench of the shit I find company in. There's the flash from the lighthouse, peeking through the curtains. Searching, searching for anything that cares to live, cares to mend what the rocks shattered, cares to mourn what went overboard, cares to fish the bodies out from the water and cares to not join them. The light almost hits me, and I shudder to think what they would think if they saw me. Would they see the maggots crawling from my head, the gashes so large it looks like I've been put on inside out? Would they think I was worth pulling back to shore? Against the sunlight and twisting sand and stretching sea would I stand out too much? The light is coming through in pieces now. It looks like debris against the wall. It fights the wood, the dark and the rot to come find me. That little shard of light, braving the sight of me all on its own. It touches my flesh just barely, and the inch of warmth makes the rest of me feel too cold. My heartbeat sounds louder now, in tune with the crash of the ocean, the squall of the seagulls overhead. The hurt wafts to my nose now, it has scabbed ever so slightly. It's still an ugly reddish-brown and it hides itself too well but it's a scar and it isn't a wound anymore. It's needs gauze and a kiss-it-better peck from someone I'm too coward to ask. I need the sea now. I need the salt to scrub me clean and the water to make me weightless, and the lighthouse glint to pass over me and come find me down here. Find me down here and haul me up. I'm not sure why I'm putting up a fight now but I'm gonna live to figure out why.

Yeah i know its not amazing it lost steam at the end but i enjoyed writing it ok! Also worth noting this literally just stuff i made up and i promise im not struggling lol

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Ignore this post its just for tags

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I wrote 150 words for the first time in a while yippee

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Poem i think (?) I put on tumblr at one point but it went down when i deactivated

Tw: allusions to abuse and toxic relationships

Disclaimer: this isnt autobiographical. Its a story i came up with and my brain formed it into a poem. Ive never felt this way about someone, never been in a relationship, let alone an abusive one. I'll put it under a cut cuz i dont want anyone to scroll past and see something that triggers them

A/N: this is certainly not my best work but im pretty happy with it ngl

I love a love that hates me

I love the lightning as it sparkles, before it sets my orchards ablaze,

I love the thunder, as it cackles at my misery,

I love the rumbling of her aimless wrath that dances through the spring wind

I love them for the pain they bring me, in her name, in her honour, like pigeons with carrying her blood stained letter to me

I love a love that hates me.

I write songs to its hunger, odes to its lips, spirraling journal entries to its belladonna breath and its orange lily eyes

People envy me, they say:

"How wonderful it must be to know, to touch, to revel in the love the angels sang of"

"The angels were shrieking in agony" I wish to say, but she silences me with lips like the petals of black roses.

I love the comfort in her arms I once clawed at to escape from.

I love the racket she makes as she runs, when the bones on her boots rattle to applaud her.

I love her shadows as they stalk through my room and cloak me through the winter.

I love her snowy tongue as it strikes at my ribs.

I love her beaming smile as her fangs drip of me.

I love a love that hates me. I should regret not regretting. I never will.

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Meet Fletcher. He's angry. Dunno why