“flirting” aka staring at u and when u look back at me i look away very fast so u wont see that i was staring at u
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so i’ve spent the best part of today working on a wee blog for connor and i’m??? lowkey hype to finish him bc i can’t wait to start writing him sadjkasd
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“There are secrets that ravage you, others that make you stronger.”
— Christa Wolf, tr. by Jan van Heurck, from “Cassandra: A Novel & Four Essays,”
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wishlist: a thread where each reply is a letter, signed and dated and everything. it could either be really long ones written over a long period or short telegrams. it would work so well with historical muses
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*thinks about being kissed* *thinks about holding hands* *sighs dramatically* *doodles hearts on my paper* *thinks about being kissed* *thinks about being kissed* *thinks about holding hands* *doodles hearts on my paper* *sighs dramatica-
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DOVWAHLAAN, independent canon - divergent dragonborn of skyrim. crossover - friendly. mutuals - only. by ELECTRA ! navigation.
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@comnder
WHEN A CHARACTER GETS WOUNDED AND THEY GO TO THEIR LOVE INTEREST FOR HELP AND WHILE THEY’RE GETTING THEIR INJURIES CLEANED AND PATCHED UP THEY FLINCH FROM THE STING OF THE ANTISEPTIC AND THEIR LOVE INTEREST SAYS “HOLD STILL” IN AN EXASPERATED BUT TOUCHINGLY CONCERNED TONE OF VOICE AND THEN THEY ACCIDENTALLY MAKE EYE CONTACT OR BRUSH HANDS AND JUST FREEZE IN THAT POSITION UNTIL THE TENSION IN THE ROOM IS NEARLY UNBERABLE BEFORE BOTH LOOKING AWAY AND PRETENDING THE UNSPOKEN THING THAT JUST PASSED BETWEEN THEM NEVER HAPPENED
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reblog this if you are a canon divergent portrayal out of pure fucking saltiness towards the canon
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Sometimes you make a soup with onion, carrot and garlic and are like yeah this will fix all my problems and you know what? You’re right.
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so obvs i’ve not been active on here for a while now and this blog is coming up to a year old and i’ve kind of been thinking about my time on this site and. i’ve never really???? had a great time? i’ve made a couple of fantastic friends who i hope i’ll keep for life but that extends past writing on here. and despite cullen being one of the muses i’ve been able to relate to the most i never felt like i got traction or got the interactions that i. perhaps hoped to get? like nothing was ever....continuous and (again with legit maybe 2 exceptions) nothing ever really got past introductions with both other muns and other muses, and most of my threads ended up sizzling out after a second reply. idk if i’m just not a lot of people’s type of person but after a few messages back and forth i feel like people kinda lost interest (but maybe it was me that lost interest?) . again whether that’s down to my lack of activity or lack of an understanding of cullen’s character or just plain us not getting on i just. don’t know. and again that’s nobody’s fault! i’m just sitting here and i want to write but honestly have no idea where to even start.
i’m not really doing anything other than mope here, and i don’t expect anything to change but idk. venting is good. i’ve been considering remaking an oc of mine because i recently found his bio sheet from early 2015 and i always had a better time w him. but i also know that the fandomless oc community is cutthroat as hell and that i’ll probably have a worse time on him than on here. throws notes into the air!!!!!
i hope u guys are having a better time than i am lol
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𝘌𝘝𝘌𝘙𝘠𝘖𝘕𝘌 𝘏𝘈𝘚 𝘈 𝘚𝘛𝘖𝘙𝘠 𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘠 𝘛𝘌𝘓𝘓 𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘔𝘚𝘌𝘓𝘝𝘌𝘚 𝘛𝘖 𝘑𝘜𝘚𝘛𝘐𝘍𝘠 𝘉𝘈𝘋 𝘋𝘌𝘊𝘐𝘚𝘐𝘖𝘕𝘚 … 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘐𝘛 𝘕𝘌𝘝𝘌𝘙 𝘔𝘈𝘛𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘚 . / hawke , by cole . art .
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if you ever wanna ship with me just come to my ask and be like “listen dick face we bout to fuck shit up with a ship ok.”
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COMNDER:
❛❛ thanks.. ❜❜ skin born scathing, fingers all but pressed into the wound. [nails embedded, practically holding near rotten flesh together]. it comes cold, callous: no sweet tongues nor tender longings. called self enraged, elated, incandescent. insensate with longing, feral in nature. all but leaning into the pain of undone threads, pulling her apart seam by seam.
ripped and raw, from the back of her throat when it pierces back into her. [cleaved in half, near spilling guts on the streets]. needle-pointed pain, arched in the act of a lover to it. a turn, squirm of the hips. splitting of skin and biting it, self-wrapped shame and surrender on her lips. hiding the most tender parts whilst spreading the most intimate. ❛❛ i wasn’t quick enough. i’m meant to be better than this. too caught up in my own arrogance to see it coming. ❜❜ each tug of the needle draws her, pallor & her lips dotted with blood. [in his mouth, her blood reeks].
❛❛ .. i didn’t hide it because i don’t trust you… i trust you more than i trust myself. i’m… there is pieces of me i don’t want you to see because they’re ugly. what is sweet and tender about rotten fruit? nothing. i don’t know how to expose those pieces of myself. i’m so fucking used to being alone. i want to be open… i wish i could peel my skin away so you could see every inch of me and not think i’m hiding things from you because i don’t lov———— … because i don’t trust you. ❜❜
❝ 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 , 𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 . the stitches would tear the second you sit straight if done like this . ❞ and palm pushes , though only the feather touch of it , a polite demand against bare chest until she yields . she is an animal , wounded and wild , and through the cleaved meat carving valleys into her flesh he’s sure he can see intestine , those worm - like tubes writhing with every move of her ( how could someone endure such a thing ? ) .
❝ it’s alright . you survived , didn’t you ? then learn from it . ❞ words come an affectionate coo , gentle and stilling . her insistence on talking only complicates the job , body rising and falling with every hitched and unsteady breath , but he is patient , and understands the comfort found in it . needle pushes through the stained flesh , a knife through butter ( for all of her mistakes at least it is sharp ) , winding the wire to pull the skin together , a bloodied maw . what a mess . he allows her spilling forth of admittance , words tumbling ; their room an unholy confessional , the priests and the gods silent there , looking on , her blood in coagulation a penance and offering . he is sure they bubble heedless from delirium , as so often he has done the same ; spilling the contents of his heart to whomever held absolution in the pinprick of a needle .
❝ i know , i know . i’m still learning too . we have time to figure this out , given that an infection doesn’t kill you next . ❞
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