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#post breakup
elizaeverafter · 21 hours ago
i deserve a softer life. where is it
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elizaeverafter · 2 days ago
thinking about how i was called “baby” “sweetheart” “honey” “beautiful” “babe” “cutie” for 5 months straight and then not at all
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rebelcaptain-fanfic · 3 days ago
ask again later
ask again later by @incognitajones​​​
After some time apart, Jyn and Cassian have managed to construct a working partnership that holds up; even if it always feels a little wobbly and unsteady to her, constantly threatening to collapse if tested.
But there’s no one to blame for that but herself.
Rating: Teen
Words: 5,974
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fave-bts-fics · 4 days ago
We used to
BY: katcches
“Thought of all of this with you back then.” Yoongi muses out loud. “Thought about asking your hand for marriage at the highest floor of the skyscraper after a candlelight dinner.”
“Thank the fuck you didn’t do that.” Jungkook answers. His voice is still as soft, despite the bad word. “I hate your big gesture.”
In which Yoongi met Jungkook, his ex boyfriend, again after five long years in a mutual friend's wedding.
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elizaeverafter · 7 days ago
When I was 7 years old, I thought that love was the only thing you needed to make a relationship work. When I was 10, I added trust to that list. By the time I turned 14, I realized that respect was also necessary. It took me until I was 19 years old to learn that you can have love, trust, and respect - and it still might not be enough.
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wiltingsunshine · 12 days ago
small things that remind me of you
-japanese cherry blossoms
-the one alley in the city where we took photos
-the way the setting sun hits the trees
-the sound of waves
-black patches on a scuffed jacket
-the smell of a fire
-paint flecks
-pepper (you hated it)
-baby kangaroos
-that one beach in CA
-animated movies
-and a million other things i can never list
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elizaeverafter · 14 days ago
why are most songs about love i am HURTING
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elizaeverafter · 15 days ago
um just realizing this but if you’re afraid to share your interests with your partner because they will make fun of you or doubt your taste....that’s not healthy.
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dismalzelenka · 19 days ago
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dragon Age - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Female Amell/Jowan (Dragon Age) Characters: Jowan (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: Angst, Post-Break Up, Drabble Series: Part 5 of And the Sky Will Burn Summary:
She's gone. He tells himself it's for the best, but nothing can fill the emptiness she's left behind.
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mncgrt · 21 days ago
when the memories start to fade away, you hurry to reminisce what their face once looked like.
the deep eyes that felt like a sinkhole that sucked your soul in when you looked at them a little too long, the lips you kissed until they no longer gave you the warmth they once did and the neck you used to caress till their hands started to shake yours off.
love fades away faster then memories do, and time passes by so fast it leaves you behind, shaking and trembling with the hole where your drifted away part of soul used to be.
can you remember how they once hold you in their arms, whisper “i love you” and “i promise”? can you still feel their breath around your neck, their hands on your waist and lips against yours or they have all disappeared along the way?
can you remember how it was like to love and to be loved? how long has it been since the last time you thought to yourself “this must be the one”?
answer me.
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You used to smell like home to me. Now you reek of heartbreak.
- recovery (maybe?)
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mouthraw · a month ago
If I was hungry, then you wanted me ravenous darlin’. For you, I would have eaten you raw. I would have swallowed your rotten flesh whole. I would have done it because you asked; I would have done it because you begged. I only bit down because I knew you wanted me sharp toothed and bloodied. Damn my hunger, my bitter-lovely, but you wanted me to gorge.
mouthraw. 2021
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cuba-libra · a month ago
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fenrislorsrai · a month ago
WIP WEDNESDAY- 1879 Wyoming
The shop was becoming a home. And that home was a reflection of Aziraphale himself.  Heaven could stop in anytime they liked and look at that home and see some piece of his true self there. And even if Aziraphale wanted to keep things...people… he couldn’t.
Crowley understood now and hated it at the same time.  He wanted to give him all the best and most beautiful things.  And couldn’t.  He wanted to speak to him again and tell him how he felt and write it out in a letter he could cherish and hold on to. But Aziraphale MIGHT keep it then. And he couldn’t.
As much as he wanted to give him that, he needed to write this letter on something that wouldn’t be kept. Paper already worn down with handling and premarked with stains and reuse. Write it in ink that would fade and go red with time until it was just a pale pink scar on the paper. If Aziraphale wanted to keep it, he’d have to memorize it.  Take the words in and make them part of himself. 
He felt like he should write something profound then. Something worth memorizing.  But Aziraphale might not read it at all. He probably would. If he wasn’t still angry. But he’d been worried about his safety.  He would want to know Crowley was alright.  Well… as alright as he got.  He wasn’t sure he was.  But knowing he was just out there, not stuck somewhere in Hell, that would probably be enough. Just receiving the letter at all would be a message.
He was going to overthink this.  Just THAT was enough. Probably. But not so much as to be unsafe. He grabbed his battered paper and sat down to write.
“The rocks here are pretty.” He sounded like an idiot. He was an idiot to write at all. But he would just let the words flow and send this before he could second guess the entire idea.
“They’re all kinds of reds and oranges and yellows. All the rusty colors. A lot of them are soft, not like chalk-soft, but they’ll crumble in your hands sometimes if you hold them too tight. They wear away in the sudden rains. Great big deep cuts in the earth with all the layers of stone stacked on top of each other.  Some places there’s great big towers of stone. All that’s left from many years of storms.
“The sky is so big and there’s so many stars. I hadn’t realized how smokey and bright London had gotten. You can barely see the sky, sometimes it's under such a cloud.  Here there’s just little towns and farms to make smoke most of the time. They mostly burn wood here. Sometimes dung. It smells so different from the coal of London.
“I saw a great fire creeping across the ground and blotting out the sky. The ground sounded odd underfoot afterward, that weird mix of sliding squeak and crunch of the bigger pieces of charcoal rubbing together all muffled by the ash around it. But new things were already growing up in it. New little trees and grass in what was left, coming up among all the old trees.  They were still there. Burnt but still there and growing.  New and old together.
It sounds different here at night. I didn’t recognize many of the animals. I’m getting used to them. The crickets are the same. There’s wolves still, though less and less. Nobody wants them. Too dangerous. I’d forgotten what they sounded like. They’d been gone so long. 
There’s great big stags too. I’m not even sure how to describe the sound. They're the same and different as the ones I’ve seen in China. The ones that have that sobbing whistle to them where it sounds like someone far away is weeping. I don’t even remember what to call them anymore. Too much time. Too many words. There’s a sketch with this, so you’ll know what kind.  If you ever heard those, you’ll remember the sound.
It's cold here now.  I don’t like this part at all. I have a little place I’m staying,  keep me warm. Don’t worry about that. I don't think I’ll be here much longer, so I’m not including anywhere to write back to. I don’t know if you’d even want to after all this time. “
(for penultimate chapter of Bone Wars)
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blo0dsta1ned · a month ago
My stress and anxiety have been making me constantly nauseous and I hate it.
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omgsmoothmonkey · a month ago
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A bit more of my new AgentCorp fic: You Promised Me (All the Dances)
Alex skillfully whirled her onto the dance floor amid a few couples swaying awkwardly in place.
“It’s the thought that counts, so I hear.” One trouser-covered leg nestled between both of Lena’s as they moved to the music. “Relax.”
Lena’s body betrayed her at the soft entreaty. Alex radiated almost as much body heat as Kara always had; it seeped into Lena and thawed the cold that had lived in her bones for weeks. She slumped against Alex in a way that would have Lillian rolling over on her prison cot.
The song changed; the band perfectly segueing into Sinatra’s Fly Me to the Moon.  If only she could do that. Not the moon, though. It wasn’t far enough away.
“I’ve missed you.” Alex’s voice was tight and hesitant, vulnerable. Lips brushed Lena’s temple, so softly that she doubted its existence.
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