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"et tu, brute?" [TRANS: and you, Brutus?] - JULIUS CEASAR 15th March, 44BC

[vettel25]

[ I N T R O ]

I like collecting quotes and literature. Feel free to send me an ask/submit a post/dm me. I'm the no.1 [SQUARE BRACKET AND ALL CAPS] enthusiast and I post my original work sometimes. Chronically leaves the back door open incase anyone feels like coming home and took all the Phoebe Bridgers dog metaphors far too seriously.

Stick around if you want :]

[vettel25]

I just want someone to want ME not WANT me 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣that’s all I fucking want

[vettel25]

I don’t know if the love was there. I don’t think it could have changed anything. It was there because I put it there. It wasn’t enough. I wish you could have felt it too. It was one of the best things I’ve experienced. It’s a very scary thing to do alone. We go way back.

[vettel25]

okay so youve probably heard of e from e = mc^2, but i want you to think of it like pi, its a small number (2.718 to be sort of exact) and it goes on forever. and you know how pi is the circle thing and they found it because its the circle thing, they found e because e^x = f(x), and f^2(x), and f’(x), and f^any number you can possibly think of(x). and what im trying to say is that e to the x is still equal to the f of any power or any amount of inverse of x. and thats how i feel about you. and i want to tell you but i cant because i have you blocked because you dont love me and im a fucking idiot and you dont even like maths anyway.

[vettel25]

when fenne lily said "I still see you as some kind of reassurance that someday I'll be understood" // when the wallows said "I'm not in your head, can you help me understand?" // when boygenius said "I can't hide from you like I hide from myself" // when hozier said "I will not ask you why you were creeping in some sad way I already know"

[vettel25]

its valentines tomorrow and my present from the guy I'm fooling around with was confirmation that he's straight which means absolutely nothing good for you (reader of my shite poetry/webweave blog)

[vettel25]

ON RICHARD SIKEN AND FALLING IN LOVE WITH THE DRUMMER AND HIS RHYTMN // ON LOVE

I am not in love with you, I swear, I am in love with the way you move and look at me. I am not in love with you I am in love with your pretty words and the way you look at our singer behind the stage lights.

crush - Richard Siken // Alida Moon // I'm your man - Mitski // Older - Eliza McLamb // You Are Jeff - Richard Siken // Hannibal

[vettel25]

We are lying, gentle, in my bed.

Our legs intertwined with,

Skin on skin and bone to bone

Our hearts beat fast,

Striking our ribs with force,

Futile attempts to touch one another.

I feel his pulse in my ear,

Ricocheting through my skeleton.

Voice a low rumble through our body.

‘I’ve been talking to this bird’

I empathise with your jeans,

Cast aside to the floor.

Half inside out, desperately abandoned,

A slight stain to the upper leg.

I study your Adam's apple

(While you swallow your thoughts)

And befriend Eve, cradle the snake

I, too, have tasted temptation.

And, Lord, I would grace,

To take the fruit back.

[vettel25]

Addictions in small doses can be cures, I think

My father only gambles on ferries, I only drink when the nights are sleepless and lonely.

I sip the vodka like a whiskey, it's deeply uncomfortable but it's the best the back of my dusty cupboard can give me. I never pre-empt the nights with enough accuracy to add mixers to my shopping list. Shots are too quick to match the slow pain I feel.

Though this habit is one I've cradled since my early teenage years, that contributes to it I suppose.

My mother doesn't like the out of control feeling alcohol gives her and my sister had long since moved out so the plain vodka was all I had access to, really.

I was careful to slip shots into empty bottles of iced coffee when she visited, my mum assuming the depleting amounts were her doing. Yet even my sister doesn't drink all too much.

I used the small amounts I had sparingly, I had to, she doesn't visit all too often.

I sit on my kitchen countertop, back pressed to the base of the plates cupboard and feet resting by the sink, and I drink a small enough amount to ensure my way back upstairs remains un-compromised.

And I only drink when the nights are lonely, in spite of your absence that takes up a presence in front of the fridge - blocking my view out of the backdoor and to my own reflection.

On the nights where your words echo so loudly in my head that I can't sleep, empty promises and broken words floating away with the aftertaste.

Then I cry until my vision is entirely blurred and I can't make out your shadow in the dark anymore; the emotion behind it feel distant, like it isn't really happening to me.

I can still feel your gentle hand on my back, guiding me back up the stairs and back to sleep.

But when I wake up you're gone again, lost to the rim of my glass the next time you haunt me.

I only ever saw my Dad gamble on the ferry back from Calais, I was an infant half asleep on my sisters lap. The sky was so big and alive with the stars and other lights of Dover; alive at night.

I only ever see myself drink in the dark reflection of my back door, I'm still somewhat a child, reaching for the hand of someone who could save me, a North Star to cling to. Though this night is cold and brutal and lonely.

[vettel25]

ON STARING AT THE SUN AND BEING BLINDED BEFORE YOU CAN SEE ANYTHING OF CLARITY // ON RELIGION

God is an explanation to what we don't know, yet, what explains God? Is it the gentle touch of someones skin on mine? Is it the harsh flames that surround me? The crown of thorns on my head?

All that's said in the lowlight - headlocket (via. ao3) // Me and the dog - Sam Fender // Untitled - Ethel Cain (via. Tumblr) // Chinese Satellite - Phoebe Bridgers // False God - Taylor Swift // The Last Days Of Judas Iscariot - Stephen Adly Guirgis // ORIGIN UNKNOWN // Starburster - Fontaines D.C

[vettel25]

its too late to put this prettily so dont expect any poetry other than the obvious. when I was younger I moved around a lot, everywhere ive lived we've rented from someone else, nowheres ever been mine to call a home. my sister is almost a decade older than me and while she studies at university I sleep in her late-teenage bed, finding more comfort there than in my end-of-childhood room. she comes to visit over the winter break when she can get the time off work. whenever she does I meet her at the train station.

she comes through the barriers and we hug, wrapping my arms fully around her and slipping her bag onto my shoulder. then I stand up as tall as I can remarking how im almost as tall as her.

when I was little id go round friends houses and see the marks on their doorframes, height trackers. id trace fingers over the crayon lines above me and imagine myself as tall as those who were passing through the house before my friend.

my home is my sister, I press the side of my hand to the top of her forehead and preemptively start counting the months until I see her again, until I can repay the favour, until my sisters home is me

[khachkars]

A random collection of beautiful tumblr post

[vettel25]

ON THE LOVE FOR THE PROMISED AND SAFE (BROTHERHOOD)

My big brother has a family of his own now, he's forgetting about ours. I miss being an infant in his teenage arms, I miss the safety of his shoulders.

Jandy Nelson - I'll give you the sun // Real house - Adrianne Lenker // Red Glove - Holly Black // Three siblings - Albert Anker // I Want You To Know That I’m Awake​/​I Hope That You’re Asleep - Car Seat Headrest // TikTok comment - a.lmaas // Young Mungo - Douglas Stuart

[sentientsky]

on preemptive grief. on bracing for impact. on looking towards the horizon line and flinching

Rayne Fisher-Quann, “home for the holidays: an essay (sort of) about grief (sort of)” // me // David Levithan // The Crane Wives, “Black Hole Fantasy” // me (again)

[vettel25]

i often find that my memories become mythical

their stories shift and change as i revisit them, much akin to the way the old greek tales move

warm tears weeping or streaming like a shaded mountain spring or a spring dark-running depending on which Iliad you read

i am her younger self or her younger brother or her best friend depending on how i would like to see her

its not a nice conclusion to draw, that you are nothing to someone but someone else (or themselves) but its the conclusion i must draw

eyes brown in most lights, she asks me how hazel could be her favourite colour, her own blue reflecting back at her

its not her own fault, thats what i told her, i told her we were cut from the same cloth so i have no right to hold her to the impossible standard of knowing me outside herself

i am stood behind a one sided mirror and she smiles at her reflection, mistaking her own face for mine

or maybe she sees her brother, the only member of her family i scarcely heard her talk about

my age and just as unknown, a blank canvas that would love her back

an overflow of her family orientation allowing me to bask in the light for as long as it took for me to be too dissimilar to him

or perhaps i was her best friend, as she said

maybe she saw me, loved me, and found me rotten

[vettel25]

ON LOVE / GRIEF OF THE LIVING

You cast my olive branch into the fire and it combusts instanter. A dreadful chill radiates through my spine - I've never felt a warmth make me so cold

CHIHIRO - Billie Eillish // The End Of The Fucking World (2017) // Anatomy Of A Hookup - Alex Thomas // Unknown, possibly the twitter user in the screenshot (aRealLiveGhost) // Glue Myself Shut - Noah Kahan // Letters to Milena - Franz Kafka // The Ballad Of The Costa Concordia - Car Seat Headrest // The God Of Small Things - Arundhati Roy

[snowangelzzzz-deactivated202506]

on longing and deep obsession.

@agenderloser