ice mom is here now nd she’s dash only until i stop being lazy

blake kathryn
i don't do bad sauce passes
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
tumblr dot com
h
🪼
DEAR READER
Cosmic Funnies
One Nice Bug Per Day
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

Kiana Khansmith
AnasAbdin
we're not kids anymore.
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
d e v o n
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

@theartofmadeline
Keni
seen from China
seen from Malaysia
seen from Spain

seen from Malaysia

seen from Thailand
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Norway
seen from Netherlands
seen from Malaysia
seen from Türkiye
seen from Malaysia

seen from United Kingdom
seen from South Africa

seen from Spain

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Singapore

seen from United States
@slainastral
ice mom is here now nd she’s dash only until i stop being lazy

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
i gotta write out an explanation when i’m not tired as shit but: gentiana and shiva are two diff entities existing in the same body thank u goodnight
when u nd ur bean are up to no good @weaponexpert
ignominiy
to his HORROR words fail him ; whether stuck at the back of his throat or simply unwilling and terrified to see the light , ardyn knows not . his pulse quickens , hammers in his ears and against his ribs , and for once he is reminded that he yet has a HEART beating inside his chest , rotten and withered as it may be after years of feeding solely upon hatred and corruption . it’s a heart that yet suffers from the same WEAKNESSES as would a human’s , as would a god’s , and he isn’t proud of this fact ( does it frustrate you , demon , that you’re not above those who claim to hate you ? ). it aches and SQUIRMS under the grip of his own emotions , as if repulsed by them , as if it was a petulant child wanting only the comfort of its mother , HATRED .
he cannot feed that aching MUSCLE with it now , not when the cold winds of the world that carry the glacean’s essence are traveling past his lips and into his chest , filling and FREEZING his lungs . for a moment he forgets how to breathe , forgets HIMSELF and everything that does not concern the lips that are so tenderly pressed against his ( but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t taste the SORROW in them too ) and with hands he KNOWS cannot feel he holds her face . his touch avails him nothing but there is no need for that : he’s kissed her , felt the coldness and softness of her lips ; he knows exactly what her skin feels like .
even as they remain close , even as he’s given more than enough time to carefully measure his words , silence yet lingers . indecision is unbecoming of him , for every step he takes is confident and assured ; how dare he falter in the presence of the one KIN with those that forsook him . and yet he does , without doubt or shame , until he finally WILLS himself to speak the words that will forever doom them both . ‘ you ruin me —– and yet I ADORE you for that . ’ you love her . you love her and you will continue to do so until she ruins you and you fall debased at her feet . ‘ hate me , or don’t , but it will change nothing —– not how I feel , not how I hold you in my thoughts , nothing . must I say more ? ’
whatever she had been expecting to leave his mouth is not what he speaks. ( had she been holding her breath for poison? for silver tongue to spin a lie to avoid an honest answer again? ) perhaps long years have made her forget the way she can hold sway over throats. surely they’ve made her forget what it is to be adored in full. her excuse for the way knees weaken at his admission. you ruin me. do i? where pride should be instead subtle emptiness rests. how much has changed between them —– that his ruination doesn’t sing so sweet to her anymore?
must i say more? yes. tell me how much you adore me. her worship has turned to the mourning of a dead goddess. a fallen creature and mortal pity means less than it should. his words —– the honesty of a dead man, ring between her ribs more fully than any prayer offered her. than anything that would soothe her as she stands now. cold woman / dead goddess. do his words mean that much? ( would you? pull praise from his lungs as though any hymns he may breathe in your name would be worth something? ) yes. she’s not quite sure what question she’s answering.
“ no. ” yes. but if there’s one thing she’s learned from him, it’s how dangerous wanting is. the words should be left there. hanging in the air suspended as snow, falling slow in the sky. instead she opens her mouth to taste them ( snowflake to tip of her tongue, she takes another kiss she should not have from his lips ) “ nor do i . . . hate you. you are —– ”
( how can she tell him everything yet know soon he’ll be nothing? ( not even cold upon her tongue. not even the warmth beneath her fingers. ) she cant. won’t take anything else from him. instead, an offering. raised on shaking hands. )
“ —– i used to despise you. ” she loves you too. so much that she will break her heart over and over for all you cannot be. so much she will pray for your bleeding and angry heart, when no one else will. ” now . . . now i do not. must i say more? ”
Sophocles, Elektra (trans. Anne Carson)

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
me when i made this blog: i don’t want any verses bc genti’s story is so closely tied w xv lore idk how i could do it
me now: i love my oc who is gonna have 58349583 verses
this is a plotting call for mutuals only
❝You can sleep now, you said. You said that. I had a dream where you said that. Thanks for saying that. You weren’t supposed to.❞
SIKEN.
she wasn’t supposed to say many things, she supposed. words better off left beneath her tongue or cast to the floor ( to be stepped on, crushed beneath heels like cherries ) though it’s better that it wasn’t real. imagined by monster / man before her. ( ‘so you do dream of me still, usurper. do my arms still hold you when your eyes are closed?’ ) she steps closer to him. feels the scourge like oil across her skin. she doesn’t flinch. meets corrupt form and brilliant eyes with her own —– unwavering.
“ was i not? ” her voice barely reaches above a breath—– she knows it will grab him still. “ and why, i wonder? are you not worthy of rest? ”
( holy woman, you know he isn’t worthy of the breath he takes / wicked woman, you would give him all of yours if you could ) hands would reach up to him if he didn’t ooze sickness with each exhale. if his sin hadn’t been dripping from his lips. would she have touched him if he was a prettier kind of fallen? would she kiss him if she couldn’t see what it was doing to herself? it’s a question she’s answered before.
“ you can sleep now, ardyn. ” she says. hands cup his cheeks. pull him close until foreheads touch. ( let him go. before he stains you too. but her fingers already drip with tainted ichor, holds her own sins alongside his ) “ you can sleep now. ”
Chiharu Okunugi by Daniel Jackson for Vogue China
I watch the edge of his face in the dark. Its beauty is part of what binds me to him. I don’t know how to make this sound virtuous.
Anne Carson, from “Part V: The Anthropology of Water,” Plainwater: Essays and Poetry (via lifeinpoetry)

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
❛ did you ever love me? ❜
SOME MEME
it’s a question that demands an answer, she sees it mirrored in his eyes. ( eyes which they cursed and scorned at first. called him incomplete. hers —– as if he was anything less than beautiful. ) but what words were right to say?
( q. what is love? a. it’s his hands reaching for mine in the depths of winter. hoping that maybe, maybe she would be something warm to hold on to. it’s holding on to the cold when it will never warm you because the cold has your mother’s face and life has not kicked the wonder from you yet. ( it’s a woman standing in front of a sword to protect a boy losing his wonder. ) it’s seeing the boy grow into a man with an angry heart and now she’s the one reaching out. hoping he hasn’t inherited all her cold. )
“ yes. ” the word could be masked in archaic tongue. in a riddle meant to infuriate him with the lack of plain answer. but that sticks in her throat. there’s no poetry to her now. “ yes. i did and do love you. you are —– dear to me, young prince. you —– “
( q. what is regret? a. see love )
@noagency
posture instantly goes rigid upon the touch to his shoulder ( is it the touch, or her words? does it make anydifference? ), though it’s soon forced into a state of pseudo-relaxed. a hand comes up, rubs over his eyes; each time he thinks he’s alright with what’s prophesied, he’s hit with a fresh wave of doubt, of the urge to run. it isn’t fair.none of it’s ever been fair. a sigh, and he scrubs his hand over his eyes again, suddenly exhausted. ❝ it shouldn’t be. but it is. ❞
it shouldn’t be / it makes sense : there isn’t any way to make it feel right however. she was charged with watching king and oracle —– with seeing divine prophecy fulfilled but these were children. ( it’s the lambs, not the sheep, whose blood make best the slaughter ) if her feet didn’t know the way the ground rose up to meet them, would it be any different? if she didn’t know how solid mortals were beneath her fingertips, could she bear this loss without complaint? ( in a time before, maybe. ) but these aren’t doubts for mortal ears to hear. speaks instead : “ it is fortunate, then. that young king need not bear it alone. ”
' you make my tongue so weak it forgets what language to speak in. '
MILK & HONEY .
poetry sweet as honey falls from her mouth and he’s fortunate it is HIS ( and only his ) for him to taste . he feeds on it almost GREEDILY , like an abyssal maw harboring an unabated hunger , and so he kisses her once more ; that she does not pull away is a blessing in and of itself he knows he doesn’t deserve , and yet he’s gifted with it anyway . his own tongue feels leaden with the weight of its own eagerness ; he feasts upon her sweetness with utter abandon —– and behind the taste , the very last thing to reach his senses , cold . how he REVELS in it , how he lets it worm its way past his throat and into his lungs , and by the astrals themselves for a moment he SWEARS he’s alive .
Keep reading
RICHARD SIKEN SENTENCE STARTERS [EXTENDED]
– So I really liked the original meme here, so much that I ended up buying the poet’s book Crush to read.
Inspiration hit and here are 79 lines, categorized by poem. Feel free to change pronouns and any names!
SCHEHERAZADE
❝Tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake and dress them in warm clothes again.❞ ❝Look at the light through the windowpane. That means it’s noon, that means we’re inconsolable.❞ ❝Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us.❞ ❝Tell me we’ll never get used to it.❞
DIRTY VALENTINE
❝There’s a part in the movie where you can see right through the acting, where you can tell that I’m about to burst into tears.❞ ❝I swallow your heart and it crawls right out of my mouth.❞ ❝You swallow my heart and flee, but I want it back now, baby. I want it back.❞ ❝I’m sorry. We know how it works. The world is no longer mysterious.❞
LITTLE BEAST
❝I like him and I want to be like him, my hands no longer an afterthought.❞ ❝Someone once told me than explaining is an admission of failure.❞ ❝I’m sure you remember, I was on the phone with you, sweetheart.❞ ❝History repeats itself.❞ ❝There are many names in history but none of them are ours.❞ ❝You could drown in those eyes, I said.❞ ❝But damn if there isn’t anything sexier than a slender boy with a handgun, a fast car, a bottle of pills.❞ ❝What would you like? I’d like my money’s worth.❞ ❝Sorry about the blood in your mouth. I wish it was mine.❞ ❝I couldn’t get the boy to kill me, but I wore his jacket for the longest time.❞
SEASIDE IMPROVISATION
❝Tell me you love this, tell me you’re not miserable.❞ ❝You do the math, you expect the trouble.❞ ❝Draw a circle with a piece of chalk. Imagine standing in a constant cone of light. Imagine surrender. Imagine being useless.❞ ❝A stone on the path means the tea’s not ready, a stone in the hand means somebody’s angry.❞ ❝The stone inside you still hasn’t hit bottom.❞
THE TORN-UP ROAD
❝There is no way to make this story interesting.❞ ❝I want to tell you this story without having to confess anything, without having to say that I ran out into the street to prove something.❞ ❝Tell me we’re dead and I’ll love you even more.❞ ❝And he knew it wasn’t going to be okay, and he told me it wasn’t going to be okay.❞ ❝But the minutes don’t stop.❞ ❝And words, little words, words too small for any hope or promise, not really soothing but soothing nonetheless.❞
LITANY IN WHICH CERTAIN THINGS ARE CROSSED OUT
❝You will be alone always and then you will die.❞ ❝So maybe I wanted to give you something more than a catalog of non-definitive acts, something other than the desperation.❞ ❝I’m sorry I came to your party and seduced you and left you bruised and ruined, you poor sad thing.❞ ❝You want a better story. Who wouldn’t?❞ ❝I can tell you already think I’m the dragon, that would be so like me, but I’m not. I’m not the dragon. I’m not the princess either.❞ ❝Who am I? I’m just a writer. I write things down. I walk through your dreams and invent the future.❞ ❝And yes, I swallow glass, but that comes later.❞ ❝Shut up. I’m getting to it.❞ ❝For a while I thought I was the dragon.❞ ❝Okay, so I’m the dragon. Big deal.❞ ❝You still get to be the hero.❞ ❝What more do you want?❞ ❝Are you there, sweetheart? Do you know me?❞ ❝Here is the repeated image of the lover destroyed.❞ ❝There is something underneath the floorboards.❞ ❝I arrived in the city and you met me at the station, smiling in a way that made me frightened.❞ ❝This doesn’t look that much different from home.❞ ❝Love, for you, is more than the usual romantic love. It’s like a religion. It’s terrifying.❞ ❝Okay, if you’re so great, you do it–❞ ❝Unfortunately, we don’t have that kind of time.❞ ❝I have told you where I’m coming from, so put it together.❞ ❝When I say this, it should mean laughter, not poison.❞
A PRIMER FOR THE SMALL WEIRD LOVES
❝And you know that a boy who likes boys is a dead boy, unless he keeps his mouth shut, which is what you didn’t do.❞ ❝Because you are weak and hollow and it doesn’t matter anymore.❞ ❝And the boy who loves you the wrong way is filthy.❞
UNFINISHED DUET
❝He wants to be tender and merciful.❞ ❝He meaning you.❞ ❝Do you love yourself?❞ ❝I don’t have to answer that.❞ ❝It should matter.❞
I HAD A DREAM ABOUT YOU
❝I don’t think I can take this much longer.❞ ❝In the dream I don’t tell anyone, you put your head in my lap.❞ ❝In these dreams it’s always you: the boy in the sweatshirt, the boy on the bridge, the boy who always keeps me from jumping off the bridge.❞ ❝Oh, the things we invent when we are scared and want to be rescued.❞ ❝I borrowed your shoes and didn’t put them away.❞ ❝You didn’t show up. I kept waiting.❞
STRAW HOUSE, STRAW DOG
❝You have a cold cold smile.❞ ❝Watch me, just watch me.❞ ❝I swallowed crushed ice pretending it was glass.❞ ❝I don’t really blame you for being dead but you can’t have your sweater back.❞ ❝You can sleep now, you said. You said that. I had a dream where you said that. Thanks for saying that. You weren’t supposed to.❞
PLANET OF LOVE
❝And you play along, because you want to die for love, you always have.❞
WISHBONE
❝You saved my life. I owe you, I owe you everything.❞ ❝Let’s not talk about it, let’s just not talk.❞ ❝Don’t bother. You never mean it anyway, not really, and it only makes me that much more ashamed.❞ ❝Please, for just one night, will you lie down next to me, we can leave our clothes on, we can stay all buttoned up…❞ ❝Do you see what I mean? Do you see what I’m getting at?❞ ❝If you love me, _____ , you don’t love me in a way I understand.❞ ❝Do you want to go home now?❞
nothing vast enters the lives of mortals without ruin
from Antigonick by Sophokles, trans. by Anne Carson (via theclassicsreader)

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
❛ (dear god), if it will keep my heart soft, break my heart every day. ❜
warsan vs melancholy | not accepting
MOTHER, MOTHER PRAY TELL OF MY FATE ; WILL YOU LOVE ME STILL WHEN INNOCENCE HAS WANED, WHEN ALL THINGS SOFT HAVE SHARPENED?
will she love him if his heart were to turn to black and rot? what of when his smile becomes feral and his soul wounded from the wickedness of this unyielding world? the other gods foresee disaster and so they turn their backs – in shame and sorrow – for the boy is mere mortal, he will age. and one day he will leave his mother, and another time he will do it differently. it will hurt all the same.
( we warned you, a hissed symphony encircling the revered mother. his creation manifests that of superficial beauty, it is not ever - lasting. the smug choir sings ; what will you do if he forsakes his bloodline or his soul tainted? will you turn your back on him too, as you have done to others before? )
mother, comes the melodious cry from a cherubic face. it, too, will all fade someday. herein lays a boy now, soft and gentle. he is a masterpiece of her craft, unaltered by time. and that shall never come to be, for she is a god and she wills it so. arrogance is unbecoming of her. but it is not pride which insinuates this behavior, it is love, she insists.
love is what bore him. it is the only warmth needed for he, a child of winter, to survive. it is the tone which all her words are spoken to him, a stark contrast to the condescension and harshness among the others. and it is that same tone which is notably absent then and there, when she speaks a prayer perhaps intended for herself. her voice is hoarse with sorrow, how it shakes him so. for whomsoever makes his mother weep, he shall put to the sword someday.
❝ mama. ❞ the boy tries again. his head reaches her waist as he buries himself further into a desperate embrace, hopeful that he may rid of her sadness. ( children are fragile / egocentric in that manner – thinking themselves the cause for all issues and capable of absolving all of them. a shame, a shame ravus is only correct about the former. ) the wonders it would do to his mind, to know he is the unintentional source of her heartbreak as he is that of her happiness. ❝ you needn’t ask such things. you are all things good and soft, and i would never break your heart. and if i did before, i’ll never do it again. ❞
They say that every snowflake is different. If that were true, how could the world go on? How could we ever get up off our knees? How could we ever recover from the wonder of it?
Jeanette Winterson, The Passion (via antigonick)