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ahopelessromantika · 27 days
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"You knew," she says accusingly.
He shrugs, unapologetic. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"My parents' death..." Her hand finds purchase on the crook of his arm, and she curls it into a bruising grip. "It was you all along."
His eyes are blank even as he curves his lips into a smile.
"Do you regret marrying a murderer then?"
-by ahopelessromantika-
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izzylovesyou2022 · 3 months
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Greetings, writerblr!
most of you probably know me better from my @fanizzy-2 blog
Unfortunatly, i do not know how much longer that blog will be up, because tumblr hasn't been working. i can't message or ask questions until the problem is fixed, so i will be messaging/asking/following from here. this seems to be the only tumblr blog of mine that is working.
I'm so sorry for the trouble
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doctober-baby-poetry · 9 months
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If I don't want to live, then why do I drag my feet backwards when I see the spark from the electrical circuits. Why am I careful with the railing and why do I look both ways before crossing the road? Why do I keep failing to live and yet my body knows how to survive? Why am I the way I am and why do I have to keep being this way? Why am I the only one I know who's so flawed? ~V
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individual-prisoner · 2 years
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You're my star, during my night🌟
But sometimes, you're too bright,
For me. :(
I can't engulf all your charms,
fading my own pale ones. 🌸
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fromdarzaitoleeza · 7 months
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Quotes by Sylvia Plath, The Journals of Sylvia Plath
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evelinharlow · 1 month
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I keep having nightmares…. nightmares forcing me out of sleep, out of peace. Terrors that wake and shake me, bound to break me. My heart, turning its sleepy beats to blood-overflowing pumps. My eyes running through the room, as I try to spot the reality from a dream. Awake at early morning, I dare not lay again, as I’ll be visited by the Night Hag, instead of Sandyman. And not golden sands will be covering my face, but old fragile hands will hold me in one place. The space will build with darkness, or maybe it is just my mind, making up such stories to keep me from a rest. Either way a dream is rare, I expect it not from who. I’ll await the little nightmare, tomorrow and ahead, and pray to either man that it doesn’t lead me dead…
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khajiithaswitchywares · 5 months
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Go hiking. Fake your death. Become one with the forest. Elevate to forest god. The simple things.
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ikiprian · 1 month
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Mr. Fenton is a competent teacher. Almost too competent.
If Mr. Daniel Fenton had any more than a BS (with a minor in education), Tim would’ve flagged his profile as a potential Rogue. That’s the way of most charismatic academics, at least in Gotham. (Got a PhD? Instant watchlist.) Instead, he’s Gotham Academy’s newest celebrity, as a young, passionate, out-of-towner substitute while the chemistry teacher’s on maternity leave.
Tim gets the hype. Fenton seems to genuinely love teaching, and is invested in the welfare of the student body. He hands out bananas during exam week, hosts a “study habits seminar” each month to coach effective learning strategies, and the third time Tim falls asleep in his class, he even pulls Tim aside to ask if he’s doing okay. With all the late work he accepts and the protein bars he sneaks Tim, he’s every teen vigilante’s dream teacher. He could’ve been Tim’s favorite.
In fact, Mr. Fenton was Tim’s favorite. Up until Tim walks into Mr. Fenton’s chemistry classroom for a forgotten textbook, an hour after the final bell.
On the board where tallied scores for today’s review game had been kept, “THE CHEMISTRY BEHIND DR. CRANE’S FEAR GAS: ANXIOGENICS, NERI’S, & YOU,” is now scrawled. A detailed diagram of the human endocrine system projects in front of a small crowd of adoring and attentive students.
Fenton is wrist-deep in the skull cavity of an anatomical model. A short tug, and out pops the brain.
It’s plastic. It’s fake.
Tim identifies the nearest emergency exit.
Fenton turns to the door, and in the dark classroom with the projector illuminating half his face, his eyes almost seem to flash red. “What’s up, Tim?” he asks. His friendly grin is too big for his face. “I didn’t know you wanted to join the Just Science League!”
[OR: Danny’s a science teacher at Tim’s school. Gotham’s a pretty wild place, even for someone who grew up a superhero in a ghost-infested town, so he takes it upon himself to start a club teaching kids how to manage themselves in the event of a crisis. These Gothamites are pretty hardy, but a little extra training never hurt anybody! And he suspects one of his students might be a teen vigilante, like he’d been, back in the day. As a senior super, it's Danny’s duty look out for him! Surely, this is the subtlest and most appropriate way to give the kid pointers.]
[Tim immediately assumes supervillain.]
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whimsifae · 5 months
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the five homoerotic love languages:
- intimate stabbing
- outright obsession
- confused pining
- "no one knows me like you do"
- lifelong promises that always sound suspiciously like wedding vows
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joytri · 3 months
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neil perry would've loved folklore
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ahopelessromantika · 1 month
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"I think...I think I'm dying."
He scoffs at her and places a damp cloth over her forehead. "It's just a fever. It'll die down after a few hours or so."
"Noooo..." she whines pitifully. "My head aches, I have snot up my nose, my throat hurts bad..."
"Because you're sick," he stresses out.
"Then help me."
"I am helping you."
She scrunches her nose in disdain. "In romance novels, the male lead usually kisses the female protagonist to take away her cold."
"Too bad you're not living in a book. And how am I supposed to look after you if I also catch your sickness?"
"I don't know..." she slurs, lethargic and clearly not thinking straight. "We could be sick together."
"Sounds awfully romantic."
"Yeah. So will you kiss me now?"
"No."
-by ahopelessromantika-
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Me when I hit that Creative high at 1.00 am in the morning and come up with the greatest story ever conceived...
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And then... by the time I wake up... I've FORGOTTEN ALL OF IT.
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If you’re a writerblr then please interact with this post so that I can give you a follow ! I need more writerblr’s to follow !
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mothprincess · 9 months
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serena crane, prescription for lilies
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zenosanalytic · 8 months
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You know how bullshit rent is? Elon Musk hasn't paid rent on Twitter's main offices in, like, 6 months, and has Twitter been evicted? Of course not. Apparently, when you're rich or a company, you can just tell your landlords to fuck off and the gov won't do shit to you.
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