torntruth
torntruth
𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚁𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶 ,
— 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙲𝙰𝙽'𝚃 𝚂𝚃𝙾𝙿 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙿𝚁𝙴𝚂𝚂.
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torntruth · 9 hours ago
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i’m  a  simple  lesbian,   sometimes  i’d  just  like  to  write  really  sapphic,  romantic  scenes  and  i’ll  be  the  happiest  they/them  lesbian  alive.
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torntruth · 9 hours ago
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mxrvelled​     »     OH,   WE’RE  PLAYING  BINGO    :
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+ “ Being on the TRAIL of a huge underground ring isn’t exactly what I had on my BINGO card this morning . “ 
Ming  holds  up  her  hand -    it’s  all  so  carefully  dramatic.   The  way  she  just  squints  at  said  hand  before  sticking  her  tongue  out  the  slightest.   She  marks  some  invisible  spot  on  her  hand  with  an  invisible  writing   ...   utensil. 
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“   I  have  it!    Bingo!   Finally,   I  never  get  bingo.   ”
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torntruth · 9 hours ago
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tornfalse​     »     ELSA  ,  MY  BELOVED    :
ELSA CHUCKLES, despite herself, smiling in amusement as she just rests her head right there on Emily’s. There’s something INFINITELY MORE PRECIOUS in this moment right here, where time ticks on and they are here, frozen within a moment. ( Elsa thinks about cold and blue and memories dancing around her and getting so caught up in them that time moves on without her. Blue eyes close for a moment, white lashes resting upon cheeks, and Elsa almost seems to press HARDER against Emily, into her warmth, before the vertigo passes. )
“I believe my sister would disagree with you.” She murmurs back, fondly. ANNA STILL CONSIDERS HER A FOOL, but in the joking, lovingly sisterly way. Elsa knows that, knows she is not a fool, but rather someone who is too smart for her own good. “But I have a feeling you two have bickered enough for a lifetime.” She adds, remembering a SLIGHT PAIN pressing herself to her frost-covered door and listening to Emily and Anna argue over meaningless things.
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Elsa blinks, her eyes misted, just a bit glassy, FROZEN FLAKES clinging to her lashes. She hums in agreement, a slightly-choked sound as the emotions ACTUALLY HIT. She’s getting married, she’s actually getting married. They’re going to be planning a wedding. “That is all anyone can ask of us, Emily.” She whispers, eyes flickering gold before they go back to blue. “Do not make my same mistake in get CAUGHT IN YOUR HEAD over what you think people think.” Her voice fills that pause, thumb pressing into Emily’s cheek as she strokes it methodically. The God smiles, a warmth in the chill of her being.
“We could always, as well, host it in Arendelle if the conservatory is too painful. In the Uppsala.” She suggests, her voice casual. “But we do not have to decide that this moment, all I want to do right now is KISS YOU.”
Emily  leans  back  from  the  forehead,   just  to  peer  into  Elsa’s  striking  eyes.   Her  eyes  flutter,   in  such  a  way  that  it  was  obvious  Emily  was  taken,   absolutely  enamored  by  what  Elsa  had  just  said.   Emily  would  reply  in  her  astute  way,   announcing  with  the  right  amount  of  romanticism  that  having  the  wedding  in  Arendelle  would  be  perfect.    Emily  sincerely  doubts  the  conservatory  will  ever  return  to  it’s  former  glory,   there  are  too  many  ghosts  haunting  it’s  halls.    Just  as  Dunwall  now  has  too  many  ghosts.   Delilah  was  a  whole  plague,   not  just  a  problem,   but  another  whole  plague. 
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The  tip  of  the  sword  was  on  the  floor,  Elsa’s  hand  over  Emily’s  on  the  pommel.   Emily’s  other  hand  moves,   fingers  wrapping  around  the  back  Elsa’s  upper  arm,   just  above  the  elbow.    Because  if  you  don’t  brace  for  a  kiss  that’s  always  like  Elsa’s  and  Emily’s,   it’ll  be  sure  to  knock  you  right  off  your  feet.    Emily’s  head  merely  tilts  upwards,   nose  glancing  along  Elsa’s  still.   Brown  eyes  close,   she  kisses  the  corner  of  Elsa’s  mouth.   Then,   after  those  fleeting  seconds,   she  finally  kisses  Elsa’s.   Lips  moving  with  lips.   Always  in  sync.   
Emily’s  sigh  against  Elsa’s  mouth  wasn’t  just  heard,   wasn’t  just  felt -    it  was  understood.
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torntruth · 10 hours ago
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the truth is that no child can save her mother
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torntruth · 10 hours ago
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my  homework:   please  finish  me me:   yeah,  hold  on.   hey  google?   what’s  slang  for  fucking  in  the  1800′s  like  around  1850ish???
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torntruth · 10 hours ago
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tornfalse​     »     ALEX  CHEN    :
ALEX IS NERVOUS, she’s never done this, really. She’s never really initiated like this, fully sober, fully conscious and aware of her actions. It’s the first time she’s felt SAFE ENOUGH in a relationship to do anything like this. Steph is… She trusts Steph, loves her so much. Alex KNOWS that, intimately, because how she could not? Even without actively using her powers, Alex can FEEL THAT.
Truthfully, she agonizes over it, shuffling in one of Steph’s shirts, staring at Bowie like she’ll chirp out an answer or a sudden boast of CONFIDENCE. Instead, the blue-and-white parakeet just chitters, preening her wings and eventually chirps a soft urging ‘go get ‘em, babe’ in a mimicry of Steph’s voice. ( The phrase, uttered during Alex’s solo time on stage, followed by a quick peck on the cheek and a gentle push towards the stage. )
“Right.” Alex says, to herself, to Bowie, who parrots it back assuredly. It is comfort, still, and Alex toys with the SOFT FABRIC of the sleeves. It smells like Steph, it feels like her, too, traces of JOY rolling off of it like a comforting hug. Alex inhales, shakes her hands, and — before she loses all nerve — strides out to Steph.
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Almost instantly Alex feels her face heat up, her eyes meeting Steph’s intently as she walks over. Steph’s reaction has her TINGLY, warm pooling in her gut at the way Steph looks at her. It’s reassuring, comforting, but oh — oh Alex is so fucking nervous.
Fuck, God, shit, this was, this was — Alex shifts, slipping into Steph’s lap, fingers reaching to cup her jaw. “Yes,” she whispers, soft, achingly so. OH SHE ABSOLUTELY DOES.
Alex leans in, PRESSING HER MOUTH to Steph’s before she can say anything else. It’s not a HARD KISS, but it’s not as timid as Alex thought she might have been.
The  way  pleasure  just  spiraled  inside  of  her  chest  and  along  her  spine -   all  because  of  Alex’s  yes.   You  know,   if  Alex  hadn’t  kissed  her  and  she  wasn’t  currently  entranced  with  said,   the  talkative  counterpart  absolutely  would  have  gone  into  this  long  spiel  about  how  Alex  is  just  different  and  why  Steph  feels  the  need  to  explain  that.    Not  like  different  as  in:  Alex  has  a  power,   but  different  as  in:   Steph  both  can  and  can  not  pinpoint  why  she’s  never  been  this  in  love  before. 
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But,   hello!    She’s  being  kissed,   while  still  100%  thinking  about  how  attractive  Alex  looked  in  her  own  button  up  shirt.    Both  of  Steph’s  hands  find  Alex’s  thighs.   She  just  moves  Alex,  the  slightest,   urging  the  other  woman  to  get  more  comfortable.   Then  her  hands  move  again,   both  resting  somewhere  on  Alex’s  upper  back.   Arms  lock  around  Alex,   pressing  into  the  other  woman.   That  was  definitely  one  hell  of  a  hug,   mixed  in  with  that  kiss.
Not  to  sound  cliché,   but  with  her  lips  moving  against  Alex’s  and  pressed  so  close -   it  really  did  feel  hard  understanding  where  she  ended  and  Alex  started.    You  know  what?   She  likes  cliché.    Who  is  she  trying  to  be,   some  big  bad  ass?    Please,   not  possible.   Steph  was   smiling  into  the  kiss -   which  is  the  only  reason  she  had  to  pull  away.   Her  forehead  easily  resting  on  Alex’s.
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torntruth · 11 hours ago
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I hate those stairs!
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torntruth · 11 hours ago
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tornfalse​     »     GRUMPY  GIRLFRIEND    :
SHE LOOKS TIRED BECAUSE SHE IS, her body feels heavy, something itchy under her skin as her leg jumps UP AND DOWN. She looks over at Carol, unable to bite back the snort at the superhero outfit. It’s still so fucking stupid. Carol LOOKS stupid, in Jessica’s opinion, and she’s said so multiple times. Still, every part of her relaxes when Carol slips through the door. It’s RELAXING, knowing Carol is safe and hasn’t — hasn’t —
Jessica scowls, reaching as Carol comes closer, thumb pressing to SMUDGE OF DIRT gathered there, eyes tracking her movements for ANY SORT OF INJURY.
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“Yeah, pot meet kettle.” She huffs, deflecting Carol’s statement with her own shrug. She IS tired, she’s always tired. She feels like she hasn’t slept, can’t sleep, too scared to CLOSE HER EYES.
Her fingers twitch, reaching to run idly through Carol’s hair as she lays down. The movement is methodical, and Jessica just watches her fingers for a moment.
“Chewie’s fine, probably hiding under something waiting to SCARE THE SHIT OUT OF ME.”
The  first  little  side  laugh  came  after  Jessica’s  ‘pot  meet  kettle.’    You  know,   that  signature  little  carefree  laugh  Carol  has.    Where  her  head  tilts  and  there’s  something  playful  in  her  blue  eyes  and  her  laugh  just  sounds  so  weightless.   And,   this  wasn’t  supposed  to  be  them  but  it’s  still  them  and  somehow  it  just  all  fits    ---
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A  hero:    going  out  of  her  way  to  stop  anything  problematic  not  only  on  Earth  but  in  space  too.   An  anti-hero:    she’s  not  going  to  go  out  of  her  way  to  stop  every  little  thing,  but  when  she’s  there,   she’s  good.   Here  they  are,   dating,  still  with  their  difference  in  opinions.    Because  Carol  and  Jess  are  still  Carol  and  Jess,   those  friends  drinking  in  a  dorm  room  before  life  violently  separated  them. 
Before  Carol  can  even  retort,   something  as  sarcastic,   there’s  a  loud  meow  from  under  the  couch.    Carol  laughs  again.   She  knows  that  meow.   It’s  the  one  where  Chewie  somehow  understands.   Alien  cat,   slightly  more  intelligent  than  Earth  cats,   of  course.   Science.   Still  a  cat  because  as  cats  do:    Chewie  adopted  Carol,   chose  this  alien-human  to  steal  food  and  cuddles  from.   She  merely  tolerates  Jess.
“   Pot  missed  Kettle.   ”     Carol  just  breathes  out  after  her  laugh,   cheek  rubbing  against  Jessica’s  thigh.
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torntruth · 12 hours ago
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chokethelight​     »     CLARK  KENT    :
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“All I am saying is that I could have done that ten times faster and far more efficiently.”
“   AlL  i  Am  SaYiNg   ...   ”
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Somehow,   even  when  Carol  was  jokingly  being  mocking,   there’s  always  something  soft  and  affectionate  to  everything  she  does.
“   I  wasn’t  thinking  of  efficiency,   or  even  speed.   I  just  wanted  to  save  the  family  inside.   ”
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torntruth · 12 hours ago
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the  one  letter  you  can  find  by  emily  to  wyman  or  wyman  to  emily,  i  forget  which,   just  joking  around  about  that  one  time  emily  was  in  a  rush  and  ended  up  not  even  wearing  pants  to  an  important  meeting,  she  just  plopped  down  behind  her  desk  in  her  dress  shirt  and  coat  and  she  and  wyman  had  to  hold  refrain  from  laughing.   i  think  about  it  all  the  time  and  how  simply  happy  it  was. 
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torntruth · 14 hours ago
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Like this for a steph starter. Satisfy my brain rot. I’ll do them after homework tonight
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torntruth · 16 hours ago
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CAROL DANVERS in WHAT IF…?: EP. 7 – “What If Thor was an Only Child?”
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torntruth · 16 hours ago
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YOU WERE ELEVEN YEARS OLD!
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torntruth · 16 hours ago
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Me, 45 minutes late to this party with my macaroni salad hoping they’d have the food cooking: I don’t want /this/ much socialization.
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torntruth · 22 hours ago
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I think it’s rather homophobic that tumblr hasn’t been alerting me to some of what @tornfalse has tagged me in. I only know they did because I religiously stalk them lmao. Anyway, Rowan probably isn’t the only one I’m missing posts from so if I didn’t acknowledge the post in some way - I really didn’t see it.
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