George Sand, From A Letter To Gustave Flaubert Written C. September 1871

your love for geto suguru is measured in bodies.

skin over muscle over bone, hands on knees, knees on the floor, cold. thirteen corpses, colder. tongue unmoving, eyes closed, blood still. frozen forever in a state of perfect decay.

to curse users, death is family. you know, intimately, the way it feels in your lungs, the way it settles like a fine dark dust at the end of a struggle. the stench sticks to the back of your throat and tells you that you are home.

suguru presses his face into your neck and breathes out.

you did your best, he says. you did so well.

(this is love returned.)

perhaps there was a time when you loved differently, in the way that he wanted, but you are not your past. you are your present, and this is your only gift. and he accepts it, arms wrapped around you like ribs around an unbeating heart.

your love for geto suguru is measured in bodies.

the first one was yours.

I love when people get delightedly flustered by compliments. It activates some kind of insane prey drive in me. Today at lunch we had this cute trans server in a well-coordinated outfit and she got so bashful when I complimented it that I immediately became a dachshund of light flirtation and could not physically stop myself from laying it on outrageously thick just to see her begin to lose her composure and turn entirely pink.

born to shoujo forced to shonen

GeGo x Fruits Basket (Teacher AU)

opening your writing doc and immediately scrolling back 3 pages like "alright what the fuck is this story about again?"

Mohammed El-Kurd, from Rifqa

Here are some examples of "show, don't tell" in action:

Telling: Sarah was very angry.

Showing: Sarah's face turned red, her fists clenched, and she slammed the door shut.

//////

Telling: The room was messy.

Showing: Clothes were strewn across the floor, books were piled haphazardly on the desk, and dirty dishes filled the sink.

//////

Telling: John was scared of heights.

Showing: John's palms grew sweaty, his heart raced, and he clung tightly to the railing as he looked down from the rooftop.

//////

Telling: The food tasted delicious.

Showing: The flavors exploded on her tongue, a medley of sweet, tangy, and savory notes danced in her mouth, leaving her craving more.

//////

Telling: Emma was sad about the breakup.

Showing: Emma's eyes welled up with tears, her shoulders slumped, and she spent hours curled up in bed, replaying their last conversation in her mind.

//////

Telling: It was a beautiful sunset.

Showing: The sky transformed into a canvas of vibrant hues—pinks, oranges, and purples blending together in a breathtaking display, casting a warm glow across the horizon.

//////

Telling: The car was old and unreliable.

Showing: The engine coughed and sputtered, emitting puffs of smoke. Rust covered the body, and the faded paint revealed years of wear and tear.

//////

Telling: The meeting was tense.

Showing: The participants leaned forward in their seats, their brows furrowed, and their voices became sharp and clipped as they argued back and forth.

//////

Telling: He was a kind person.

Showing: He often went out of his way to help others, offering a comforting smile and lending a listening ear whenever someone needed support.

//////

Telling: The forest was eerie at night.

Showing: Shadows danced among the trees, the wind whispered through the branches, and the distant hooting of an owl sent shivers down her spine.

crying while reading the day i picked up dazai ;;; (side b never existed)

thinking about jeff buckley being asked, "how do you want to be remembered?" and answering with, "as a good friend."