Tag Archives: cw: war

70s Racing AU

Random ideas/headcanons that won’t get fics anytime soon. If anyone wants to add on/chime in/create something, feel free.

In Geology class, my prof talked about salt flats and mentioned racing, and also there’s a guy who sits in front of me who’s over six foot, with mid-length brown-blonde hair that sort of curls at the nape and looks really lustrous because he always runs his fingers through it all the time.

So. You know. Here’s a 70s Racing AU.

cw: post war. mentions of sex, death, mental health issues, reckless driving, homophobia.
If I need to tag something, let me know.

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dystopian Stranger Things AU

We gave our sons and daughters to the war- and what did we ever get in return? We gave up everything. We gave up our livelihoods for them. Our family. And for what? For what? For nothing, in return.

Add in modern fears and more dystopian sci-fi elements, if a government pushed the selection of individuals from a populace to be curated for their own gain- Hawkins Lab has taken Jonathan and Will, and kept them apart from home for too long.
But now, Joyce is getting back her kids.

(possible Stranger Things season 1 spoilers beneath the cut)

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Compassion Will Kill You

I’ve read other poetry books by Adrian Bouvier before, (though apparently I never wrote something on Drown, whoops). But anyway, when I saw he had another book on Amazon I had to buy it.


This one was a lot harder to get through than the last ones, since this deals more with parental abuse, guilt, mental health, drug use, and death. Bouvier has both a detached and a striking way of approaching these subjects, and it hits painfully.



I think Stag was my favorite. Reading it, it has a rhythm evocative of being chased, of an inescapable feeling of running from something, running from everything you’ve screwed up.

Sweet Things:





(And, without pics)

Don’t Come Home:

“they say that good men go to war and don’t ever

come back. they say good men go to war.
they say that good men don’t come home from war.
they say good men go to war, and while they’re there
one of two things will happen:

1. that good man will die, or
2. a different man will come back home in a body
3. that once belonged to a good man.

you came back, if you can come back from home,
in a hollow thing. with a hollow thing. as a hollow thing
like a skin you can’t get rid of. the war found a place inside
you to hide and now it’s wearing the good man’s face
you used to own. and you are the hollow thing. you are hollow.

good men do not come home from war.

they say good men go to war. they say bad men
start wars and good men go to them, because it is right.
because that’s where they need to be. you never went.
you never went. you just got born right here. you were born
with a gunshot splintering you out of the womb. you
were born like a bomb out of the belly of a jet. you’ve
been at war your whole life. you’ve been a war
you’re whole life.

you are not the good man who came to this war. he died there.
he died somewhere in between not being able to cry anymore
and that third month in the trench when he shot a man rather than
let him linger. when you learned what mercy is when mustard gas
is involved and he learned he wasn’t good anymore.

they say good men in love go to war and one of three things
will happen:

1. that good man in love will die, or
2. that man in love will die, or
3. that love will die.

and they’re right. nothing stays the same in war.
nothing survives the men’s slaughterhouse that ground
becomes, and especially not love. it gets twisted up,
gets all strange when you sleep on it, creases folded in,
memories faux-gilded in light of all that gore. even
sinning love. even love illegally gained and kept.

you can put that sinning love in your mouth and chew it
into a different shape, a new kind of awful: nobody cares
in a trench. nobody goddamn cares in a trench.

no good man comes back from a war. nothing good
comes back from a war.

good men start wars and good men die in wars and
good men get lost.”

If this sounds like your kind of thing, check it out on Amazon.

Check out the rest of my posts about poetry here.

Fantasy Kingdom AU

Random headcanons/AUs that won’t get fics anytime soon. If anyone wants to add on/chime in/create something, feel free.

Some sort of fantasy war AU thing.

cw: war, swords, burning of villages, death, prisoners of war, forced labor/slavery, mention of bondage (not the fun kind)
If I need to tag something, let me know.

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Weltraum Aesthetics

Aesthetic/moodboard things for a WIP. (Upgraded/Edited as of 12/29/16)

Neue Orte:



Science House:


Science House – Wissenschaft Haus – Casa de Ciencia – Nauka Kuća



It was a big step, to move far away from everything he’d ever known, way out to a planet where the people didn’t know his name, never mind what branch of science he studied. It was kind of scary, but also refreshing, to finally, finally, finally get to do what he worked so hard for. He couldn’t wait to see what this world had to offer.



<I don’t- I don’t know what love is. I don’t know if…personalities like me can love.> Trott says, <But what I do know, is…is that I care about you. I like you. I like talking to you, and spending time with you. and I think…I think that’s all that really matters. because the rest…the rest is an obstacle, sure, you could say that, but how I feel- that’s what matters most. that’s unchangeable about us, too.>





Smith forced himself to look away and ignore the shaking in his knees. He’d flown from planet to planet, narrowly dodged enemy fire and soaring asteroids, and obliterated the lives of their enemies like bugs on a windshield. Every day during the war, he could have died. But all of that was over, and not knowing what came next was what terrified him the most.









All pictures are not mine, however they should be free-to-use (links under the read-more). If I need to change something/tag something, let me know.

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