Not Fanfiction - Blog Posts

wife

The word sits so delicately on your tongue

Caressing me with the softest of feelings

With you, it is not an insult

With you, it’s something to be worthy of

Something to be cherished and upheld

We have not yet spoke our vows

At least not in front of the world

But i never doubt your dedication

And our future is what brings me to life every morning

I’ll be your wife

And you can be mine

We’ll live in a house surrounded by flowers and love

We’ll grow old together, leave our legacy for those after us

Raise the future generations with your pictures and my words

We’ll paint our walls

And bicker over curtains

But savor the time spent doing it

Maybe I’ll learn to play piano

And you can drink your tea in the morning light

As i fumble with the keys

Maybe you’ll start an online channel

Coloring the house with your laughter

And bringing joy to the world beyond brick and mortar

One thing I know, though

Is that I’ll wear your ring

And you’ll wear mine

I’ll call you my wife

You’ll call me yours

And we’ll face the world together

You and me

Just the way it’s always been

And always will be

I'm having issues writing today guys :// the next prompt won't be out for another little while

Hi guys!

I have a job interview tomorrow and I've been job hunting a bunch, so the prompts you guys sent me have been in the works for the past week or so, but I promise I'll get to them soon! I hope all is well with you ❤️

Look!!! This is my arm now!!

Guess what I did.

Happy birthday!

I was informed by Tumblr that this blog turns one today! How crazy is that!

Today is the day that I put my foot down.

Today is the day that I stand up for myself. Today is the day that I see through you. Today is the day that I call you out. Today is the day that you face your homophobia and call yourself what you are.

You are the reason we march. You are the reason we raise our flags. You are the reason we dress up in vivid colors, the reason we scream at the top of our lungs, the reason we wear our pins, the reason we sell our merch, the reason I write these words.

Because without you, we would be free. Without you, we would not have to march and scream. Without you, our existence would be so much easier. I would not be afraid of every man who might want to “correct” my sexuality. My friend would not have to correct everyone who uses the incorrect pronouns. My girlfriend and I would not have to fear holding hands in public.

This month is full of pride and happiness and acceptance and love. There’s a reason we call it Pride Month. You will not — I will not let you — take that away from us.

I stand with my brothers and sisters and all of the people in between. I will protect them and love them and shield them from the hate that you so desperately throw at us. You may spit on us from the sidelines, you may wave those signs, you may take the lives of innocent people — but we will not falter.

I once was a part of a religion that had a song with the verse that said “we won’t be shaken.” Whatever my relationship with religion may be, that verse has always stuck with me. And now, it’s become an anthem.

You look me dead in the eyes and call the people I have come to love and who have accepted me with open arms degenerates. You tell me the parade and celebration we hold every year has a premise that is not allowed in thoughts, in hearts, in minds. By doing this, you degrade my family and you condemn our feelings.

Today is the day I put my foot down.

I am proud of who I am. I have worked hard to pull myself from the closet you filled with shame, guilt, and hatred. I have come to accept myself and I am still exploring every spectrum, nook, and cranny with the woman I love. I am in love. I am happy. I am proud.

You can scream, you can cry, you can take away the things we love and put us in a box. But this is your warning — you will not keep us there. We are here, we are queer, and we are ready to kick some fucking ass.

Today is the day you eat your fucking words.

**

So I’m back, and I’m pissed, and I’m ready for the world to kiss my ass. I think it’s about time I wrote all this down in words that I hope are inspiring. 

Leave a comment or send an ask about your thoughts, or maybe just say hi. Gay rights, baby! Happy fucking Pride.

Hey so I was gonna write something for you guys this evening, but my parents were on their usual homophobic bullshit and now im really emotional and have a headache so. I may not write anything tonight. Sorry I haven't been very active! Hope you all are well 💜

I know I haven't been writing a lot lately but I needed a change in pace. Depression has been kicking my ass and writing only seems to make it worse, so I'm taking a slight hiatus to get myself together and try out a new creative outlet until I get my bearings.

I thought I'd share it with you! If you guys have any experience with this I'd love to hear your thoughts or ideas! Love you guys ❤️

Okay so cutting fabric is a bitch but I’m actually really excited to start sewing?? I enlisted my mom for help but she’s… Very controlling so we’ll see.

I’m making a cloak! My girlfriend wants to do hella beadwork! Wish us luck!

Just a heads up

I came out to my parents yesterday. Actually, I was bullied out of the closet by my mom, but that's.. a whole thing. It was an honest to God wreck, like I was expecting, but it's over with.

That said, I think I'm gonna take a short hiatus until things even out at home and I figure this mess out. Thank you guys for being patient with me.

And shout-out to my beautiful girlfriend 💜 she's the best support system I could've ever dreamed of.

How Did I Get So Lucky?

How did I get so lucky?

I ask myself this as I watch her over the waves of two computers, watch her fall asleep to the sound of my voice and my breathing and my presence. I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful; never seen the human embodiment of a love song come to life before my eyes, even as she sleeps.

Pictures do her no justice; pictures never capture her soul. No – it’s too playful, too fleeting to want to be caught. Come and catch me, it sings, as her storm-across-the-waters eyes glitter at me through what can only do her half of the justice she deserves. I could stare at her image for hours, and yet still there are things I have yet to fall in love with, things I have yet to discover. Things a simple camera could not reveal to me, even if it tried.

I could wax poetic all day about her eyes, in fact I have, but this is something much bigger than just those eyes. My heart cries out with joy every time she looks my way, every time she says my name or says those three words (“I love you,”) that make me want to cry and sing and dance and scream from the roof that this is the person I have gotten.

When God knit me together in the womb, did he give me a piece of her and her a bit of me? When he had both of us in mind, did he tie our lives together, twine them through one anothers’ and set us free? Did he create her with bits of the heavens, color her eyes with the dusk sky, paint her lips with the cherubs’ song, give her smile the first mornings’ rays?

Did he borrow some of the devils’ wit, give her the tongue off a snake; smooth and delicate and oh, so intricate? He must have placed gold in her heart, given her laugh a thousand precious stones, sang her soul into being himself. The clay he shaped her body with was soft and immaculate, purposeful and gentle.

And yet, when I hold her, I cannot help but thing how perfectly my hand fits into hers, how easily our silence is, how tender and sweet her ministrations are to me. The voice she uses towards me is a thousand times more gentle than with anyone else, except maybe a puppy, and it makes my very being soar.

When she walks, all I see is grace; when she sings, all I can hear is the romantic crackle of an old record player; when she laughs, all that I hear is the joy of a thousand children; when she tells me she loves me, my heart weeps.

The pictures she takes of me are surreal - it’s almost as if she’s painted me into being with the very lense, focusing on the beautiful parts of me that I had never bothered to see before. To her, I do not only exist, I thrive.

To her, I am half her heart, I am all she sees, I am so much more than I ever thought I could be. How did someone as simple, as tainted, as broken as me get such a masterpiece as she?

As a child, I dreamed up princes that rescued me from towers and carried me off into the sunset; love that was instant and perfect and so, so unrealistic. In a way, I suppose, she did rescue me.

But it wasn’t from a tower, or from a terrible dragon, or another enemy my six year old mind conjured up. No, it was myself. When all I wanted to do was bleed, to make myself hurt, to drag my body through the mud so all it could do was feel again - she took my hand.

She was the one who pulled me from the rubble, who took all of me in - scraped knees, bleeding heart, teary eyes - brushed me off, and decided that she was going to love me. Decided she was going to stand beside me, to let this broken mess of a person lean on her and dirty her clothes and ask her for her heart.

While I went off and chased the men I decided were my princes, while I took parts of her and made her watch as I dug myself deeper and deeper into a hole, she stayed. She waited. This lovely, beautiful, saint of a woman watched, and waited, and listened.

I went off to figure myself out, only to come back to her and offer my heart, as battered as it was. I hadn’t expected her to take it; but she had smiled, pulled me to my feet, and instead offered me hers.

How did I get so lucky?

This woman, who was sculpted by Michelangelo, painted by Da Vinci, written by Shakespeare, composed by Beethoven, and breathed into by God himself - she loves me.

If she is the sun, then I am her moon; if she is the day, then I am the night; if she is the sea, then I am the sand; if she is the sky, then I am the clouds.

Never could I dream of overshadowing her, never could I hope to outshine her, never could I break her, never could I give her away, never could I think of another the way I think of her.

She is a masterpiece. Not even this could do her justice.

How did I get so lucky?

Is that a light? Oh, I can barely see anymore, but it seems to me that the darkness has actually receded. Perhaps something shifted, and it’s day, out there. Perhaps it’s sunlight. That would be nice.

The bugs don’t bother me anymore, which is good news, I suppose. Bad news for my nerves, as even though I can’t feel the bugs anymore, I can’t feel anything else either. But I suppose that’s fine. I’m more comfortable now.

It was worse the first day. The pain from the fall, the broken limbs, the raw throat from screaming. It was unbearable down here, in the dark, and the heat, with the fear. That’s another thing. The fear, the constant, aching fear of the dark and the bugs, and the overarching fear of not being found in time...it’s gone. And I can almost be happy here, in my last moments, I suppose. Once the pain stopped, and the fear, I looked around, for once. The rock is gorgeous, down here, so textured and streaked through with lovely greys and blacks and the occasional reddish brown, if you squinted through the shadow enough. The birds singing overhead were nice while I could hear them, a constant melody from early morning to late evening, sunrise to sunset concerts that I’m glad I was here to appreciate. I can see why the ancient ancestors of humanity wrote endless volumes of poetry dedicated to the beauty of the natural world. It’s very hard for us to slow down long enough to appreciate it. I suppose I’ve slowed to a stop, now. Or...I will, soon enough.

You will, too, soon. I know all of this sounds impossible to you now. Or would, if you could hear me over that silly screaming. Even with my own hearing fading, you’re still awfully loud, friend. I do wish you’d stop and listen. I don’t suppose I thanked you for coming to look for me, yet, did I? Thank you. I would’ve thought that four days after they’d just be looking for a body, wouldn’t they? Glad you wanted to find me alive. Sorry you did. I think they’ll find you, though. If something’s shifted, and that light is sunlight, someone will see you, won’t they? That’s nice.

Oh...it’s flickering. That’s a bit strange for sunlight to do. Flicker, on and off...on and off...and now it’s just...off? Reminds me of a flashlight, flickering like that...flicker, flicker, flicker...and when it flickers off, doesn’t it seem darker? Hahaha...wouldn’t that be just funny? If...if instead of shifting to get more light, something shifted and now we’re even more hidden. Wouldn’t that be just hilarious? Hahaha. That’d mean you won’t ever be found, wouldn’t it? Hahaha. Funny...very, very funny...

((Prompt from the writing.prompts instagram.))