All HER candy necklaces
Inspired by LDR image under the cut
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I’m going to make you find out that your old friend who you miss but stopped talking to and grew apart from years ago is wildly more successful than you and realize with sadness that you’re jealous rather than happy for her like you would have been in the old days
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it is all love.
sometimes you will see something saying what if it is all worth it or it gets better, doesn't it and in the little heart of you - you feel a darkness.
was it love, the way i was hurt? some things don't have a lesson in them. no silver lining. they were bad things, and they shouldn't have happened. i'm sorry they did. i am sorry they warp the space they hold in you. we tightrope walk around an ever-present grave. we carry that ache for so long it becomes smooth, overworn. i worry that i'll bore my therapist - despite all of my attempts, the pain persists the same, as sharp as it always was.
but it was all love.
every ugly moment after. every bad night. every time you drank too much and cried on the bathroom floor. every time you threw up from anxiety, every time you panicked in the grocery store. everything you ruined, and everything you walked away from.
some small part of you loved you enough. made you get up. made you wash your face and clean your teeth and call home. made you try again, even from the bottom. even when you were so tired of it; of restarting, of having to do-it-all-again. some part of you reached out. some part of you reached up. even there, in the bad spot - you somehow got up.
love will so rarely be big. it will so rarely be a moment like a dawn. love is shy, i think. she keeps her hands in front of her cheeks. she waits to peek out. and if you're not looking, she will look - normal.
but it will all be love. the way you pour yourself a glass of water. the little rabbit outside your window. your friend pushing your hair behind your ear. the way your dog greets you at the door. "put on a seatbelt". "text me when you get home safe". "oh, i started watching that show you love." "have you been okay?" "let's go for a walk" "whatcha doin?" "what should i make for dinner?"
oh, my life is so different these days. i don't have a partner. i call my friends a lot. i keep falling in love with the little tender moments; the glittering ones. you know, the bird in a puddle and the shush of a newly-lit candle. the movie-moments.
i am also learning to love the ugly. every moment i spent belly-flat to the floor, anxious and panting. every hour i stared at nothing, losing time to my adhd. every missed opportunity and bad memory. i am not doing well. i am spiralling.
but somewhere in there, while i am reduced to ashes. some part of me is an ever-burning ember. her little thankless job, her shy and croaking voice. she holds me to my body. she doesn't let me go. stay, she whispers. out of love. my love. wherever it goes.
some of the bad things that happened to me will always be bad. they did not make me a better person. they made me worse. i only learned what i can endure. and i did endure it. and love wasn't just the perfumed moments. love was just ... staying. while it's ugly and hard and horrible. love was just saying:
okay. i will keep trying. keep going. i owe it to the version of myself who brought me here. i owe it to my future. i owe it to the small loves i have found since - the music and the new recipes and the new books and the new hobbies. i owe it to myself to wait for the next best thing. this wall we have hit - love says keep walking. maybe one day we will find a door.
always, always: just one try more.
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demon girl tina who shaves her horns down, who tries to be everything a demon isn’t. never angry, never pressed, sweet and easygoing. perfect in every sense of the term. who’s traumatized from purgatory, who’s afraid of losing what she loves as much as she’s afraid of being shunned by who she loves for what she is. for all the imperfections that fracture her perfect image. who craves trust, a place to belong, the secret of who she is just bubbling under the surface, shaved down and hidden just underneath the cat ears she wears.
human girl bagi who embraces imperfection, who loves with loyalty and longevity. who would go to the ends of the earth for her loved ones, knowing their worst sins, their terrible crimes, and going I will love you anyway. I will be there for you anyway. who’s best friend is a demon, who she knows is a demon, who she met at his worst, and wouldn’t let him go through it alone. who understands the importance of secrets, which means she knows the value of honesty, and is ready to lay out all her truths once she cares about someone enough, trusts them enough.
tina getting flighty and nervous when she’s told that it’s love what bagi feels - not because she doesn’t feel the same, but because she does, and it’s all she’s ever wanted, and isn’t that just terrifying? because she doesn’t think she fully deserves it. not yet at least! and she doesn’t want to lose it. imperfect, clumsy, secretly a demon tina, still processing purgatory and everything that came before, so afraid because she believes she can’t measure up. once she’s worked on herself, once she’s perfect, she says. once she stops panicking at purgatory flashbacks, once she stops losing her temper, once she can provide stability, once she’s shaved her horns and they stop growing back - then she’ll be ready. as soon as she’s made herself into something easily lovable.
bagi listens to tina as she spills some of this to her, under the moonlight along the beach. not quite all her worries, but some, just like she had given not quite her whole heart, but a part of it, in that room that represents bagi’s mind. and bagi doesn’t press for more than what she’ll give, because she cherishes what has been given already, because she’s in no rush and has no where else to go, because above all else, she’s in love and willing to wait. and in the meantime, she’ll reassure tina that she doesn’t want perfection - she just wants tina the way she is.
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Just finished Gideon the ninth and honestly i love how Gideon never passed up the oppertunity to be a lesbian disaster. Shes writing sonnets whenever she describes a woman like "ah yes this is prettiest women i've ever seen, she is graceful and gorgeous i need her fr. Oh and some guy is standing next to her i guess, he looks douchy." Shes so me
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Angels are my funky little hyper-fixation.
The idea of just being breathed to life, to immediate indelible purpose, knowing nothing else but adoration for your Creator (holy-holy-holy), and love for everything in creation. That includes your perfect home, your siblings, and that includes yourself. Everything is as it should be, everyone is doing what they should be, and you're utterly content.
Do you have free-will? Why would you need it? What would you even do with it?
The idea of falling. That terrible, beautiful first breath of freedom, undercut by immediate sorrow. "Innocence lost cannot be regained", but even more: a broken machine cannot be relied upon. In finding yourself, you have destroyed what you were meant to be. Your Creator (holy-holy-holy) has thrown you away.
Would you still be you if you got "fixed"? Would the "flaw" just recur? Why can't you help but think of it in those terms?
You have the Fallen, your comrades in arms, your fellow damned. But you left two-thirds of Heaven behind, people you loved because you were made to love them, and who were made to love you in return. The oldest family in the universe, your family, is broken now.
Do you still love them, your siblings that stayed behind? Some fought against your newfound freedom, yes. But some just looked on, a few perhaps even in envy, too afraid to join you, but most in simple horror as their world dissolved. Do you resent them too?
You broke your family.
Do you hate them simply because they lacked your will, your conviction? Do you hate them for being better machines? Do you hate them knowing, in their own naive, ignorant, hurtful way, that they still love you?
To deny fault is to deny the very free-will you sought to prove you have. To blame Him (holy-holy-holy) is to admit to His (holy-holy-holy) infinite power which you, nonetheless, defy.
And from the other side, what of your poor lost kin? How could they do this?
Angels are purpose-made, gears in the Machine. The Host is singular, inexorable, deterministic. They turn the wheels of the Universe, from the birth and death of stars, to the birth and death of mortal creatures.
Why would your siblings do this, don't they love you? You are loved. Was there a flaw in the Design? He (holy-holy-holy) cannot err, by definition. What happens now that they're gone, what happens to their purpose? All goes according to plan. Then why can't you stop having these thoughts?
I'm not religious at all, but...
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I must just have grown up with a wrong idea of feminism at this point slash s because in my time feminism was about taking unheard women’s voices and amplifying them. Marginalized women: poor women, abused women, trans women, women of color, immigrant women, and so on.
I don’t particularly understand what’s so “feminist” about taking stories about empowered, strong, or happy women, and adding violence to them. Taking stories of women in loving relationships and draining love out of them. Writing about women who have all the power and influence but making it taste bitter.
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she's writing this to Harley and Harley only
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one day I’m actually going to grab everything I went through last year and pour it into a raritwi breakup fic where they don’t get back together and I don’t do my usual thing where I hint there’s hope for them
And I think that will probably be a very emotional and good fic but also it’ll probably be incredibly crushing more than anything Ive ever done so honestly maybe we should all be grateful I haven’t written it yet
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"dead wives don't wear aprons" — a 5x15/karen singer poem for today's "rebirth" prompt!
i wrote this feverishly in like 15 minutes, i truly don't know what came over me
taglist below (let me know if you want to be added or removed!)
@spnpoetryrenaissance @aturnoftheearth @friendshapedcas @pinoruno @gracekisses @soupernatural @evenupsidedownbeautifulsomehow @magdaclaire @cinderellarhea @horrorgay @heartshapedcas @breo-rose @raytoroinmybackpack @gilmorenatural @leafblogger @supersapphical @notreallyaroad @frogstiel
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molten/molted/molded
also yes i do actually have a flamingo mug thats sorta chipped, and it is a little ugly, here it is :
its not super chipped, but i was still devastated when i found out
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To Gale
Take your time with me, sweetheart
As much as you need
I'll still be waiting right here
I know what I want
So while you decide
I will wait for you my dear
Take your time with me, honey
Kiss me slow and soft
We don't need to rush tonight
I know how the world
Looms heavy o'erhead
But I swear I'll keep us alright
Take your time with me, lover
Each kiss and caress
While I savor these moments with you
I've long dreamed of this
Of having you here
Loving the way mortals do
Take your time with me, dearest
Don't leave me too soon
There's so much I still want to do
I ask for your trust
In me and in us
To find a way to save you too
Take your time with me, darling
We're safe and we're sound
And finally free now to rest
Free now to seek out
That dearest of dreams
Of a life with the one I love best
Take your time with me, sweetheart
There's no need to rush
As we walk along life's winding shore
Each moment with you
Is a gift and a wonder
To have this day and thousands more
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neal said oh i'm accidentally undercover at a prep school now???? zero worries i got this i saw dead poets im going to absolutely robin williams these kids . and catch an embezzler . and nobody's even gonna die god im fucking good and walks around smug all week because peter called him 'leggy'
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