“Books smell and feel better. They have that wonderful thingness of turning the pages.”

Neil Gaiman (via observando)

children of the Underworld

virginiawoolfunderwater:

Inspiration for a queer Bonnie & Clyde-esque bayou romance set in the 1950s.

The long hours, pale street lamps, heavy drinking and breaking your girl out of prison.

♪♫

Drabbles

her-mindless-musings:

    These never quite made it to the one-shot I wrote.            

_____________

"Elliot?" she asks, but her voice is soft. He can’t understand how her voice can be so soft after he just shouted at her. But that’s Elliot Jensen for you, shouting in your ear one moment and quiet as a lamb the next. Elliot shifts on the couch, taking another sip from his flask.

                “Go away,” he says, when he really means stay. Stay, because I don’t know what to do and I have don’t get this hellhole of a life and—

"You ‘kay?" She hovers near him.

                Elliot thinks it, but he doesn’t say it, no. He never says it.

                Please. Just stay.

Instead, he grunts in confirmation.

_____________            

                She doesn’t know how to feel, finding Elliot Fintry in his boxers, watching Grease for what must be the thousandth time. All she knows is that Elliot’s eyes are narrowed, squinting, at the screen and she sees how exhausted he must be. Deep plum circles rim his eyes and his hair looks vaguely greasy, as if he’s been eating too many crisps and ran his hand through his hair after eating them.

                “You’re dirty,” she observes, matter of factually. “It’s gross.”

                “Shut up.”

_____________            

                Elliot doesn’t feel quite right. He can’t understand it because everything is too complicated to figure out, but he remembers how he felt when he was with Nova—with Nova, everything was simple. Elliot supposes that’s why life is the way it is, to start with a small knot before jumbling it until the knot is suffocating—suffocating without any way to make it out alive.

                Instead, he sits there, listening to Grease and watching Jensen out of the corner of his eye.

_____________

                All  Jensen can do to try and make sense of Fintry is breathe—breathe and think as the sun rises into the west and the stars sink into the east—because fuck it all, everything about him is a contradiction.

_____________

                He isn’t quite sure when Jensen joined him, but god damn is he thankful for her. Elliot knows if she left, he would start crying. It wouldn’t be that loud, stupid crying that helped nothing and pained others. It was specifically Elliot Fintry-style crying: silently, with a few tears trickling out of his cold, narrowed eyes.

The pathology of nowhere, Charlotte Ortholary

Anonymous: where do you find the pictures that you use on collages?

  • pinterest
  • google images
  • weheartit
  • tumblr
Anonymous: so i decided to make a collection of short stories book on wattpad and i remember you doing something like that so i was just wondering how long you'd say a short story should be?

it can be any length, but a short story usually is usually under 30,000 words

fuckyeahfanmixes:

antidote for anxiety: a collection of sad songs that are somehow comforting.

1. be calm - fun. | 2. that’s okay - the hush sound | 3. little talks - of monsters and men | 4. everything is alright - motion city soundtrack | 5. round here - counting crows | 6. therapy - all time low | 7. hear me - imagine dragons | 8. one step at a time (acoustic) - four year strong | 9. there, there katie - jack’s mannequin | 10. lua - bright eyes | 11. asleep - the smiths | 12. the gambler - fun. | 13. what sarah said - death cab for cutie | 14. what a catch, donnie - fall out boy | 15. twin size mattress - the front bottoms | 16. sad songs - the maine | 17. the boy who blocked his own shot - brand new

[LISTEN]

fuckyeahfanmixes:

antidote for anxiety: a collection of sad songs that are somehow comforting.

1. be calm - fun. | 2. that’s okay - the hush sound | 3. little talks - of monsters and men | 4. everything is alright - motion city soundtrack | 5. round here - counting crows | 6. therapy - all time low | 7. hear me - imagine dragons | 8. one step at a time (acoustic) - four year strong | 9. there, there katie - jack’s mannequin | 10. lua - bright eyes | 11. asleep - the smiths | 12. the gambler - fun. | 13. what sarah said - death cab for cutie | 14. what a catch, donnie - fall out boy | 15. twin size mattress - the front bottoms | 16. sad songs - the maine | 17. the boy who blocked his own shot - brand new

[LISTEN]

“New beginnings are often disguised as painful endings.”

Lao Tzu (via planetaselectricos)

georginakincaid:

LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD AS THE MOTHER OF WEREWOLVES

Everyone thinks that after the hunter killed the wolf, Little Red’s life went back to normal. Except it didn’t. A lot got lost in translation, including the fact that there was no hunter at all. Not only did the wolf tear Red’s grandmother to pieces, but he also fed the woman’s flesh back to the girl before raping her under a full moon, until her screams echoed across the village which she once thought was safe. The child of a monster was in her belly now, for that was all the wolf wanted after all. An heir. The beast kept Red locked in a cave as he run the village, destroying everything that could do his son any harm. The place was famous for their various trades, but there was only one thing that they did not sell, and that the wolf could not get his claws on, and make it harmless to the heir: silver. However, the detail escaped his mind. On the next full moon she gave birth to a creature  that was seemingly human, but once a month would turn into an unstoppable animal whose only purpose was the same as his father’s: to create more heirs. Death embraced her soon after the child’s first breath, but until this day, the full moon slaves still chant “To Ylva Red, The First Mother of Werewolves!”

MW