Jess, people don’t change. If someone’s broken, they just stay broken.

Kiana Khansmith
NASA
Sade Olutola

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art blog(derogatory)

roma★

oozey mess
noise dept.

shark vs the universe

Product Placement
🩵 avery cochrane 🩵

Andulka
Fai_Ryy
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"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
The Bowery Presents

Love Begins
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Cosimo Galluzzi

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@abelfuller
Jess, people don’t change. If someone’s broken, they just stay broken.
no one:
absolutely nobody at all:
abel: yeah, i’ve wrestled a few gators...
abel: would still take that over wrestling my fear that i’ll never be good enough
Closed starter for @elliedepalma
Abel had a bad habit of talking to himself. He lived alone and spent the majority of his time alone, so it seemed to slip out naturally, though he did his best to turn it off in public. But, poetry was written to be read, and the sound if it shouldn’t be wasted. “To mend her we end her,” he read, his voice taking on a low, reverent tone.
He looked up, past the now-cold cup of tea, to a familiar face standing across the almost empty coffee shop. Abel slipped an old receipt in between the pages of the worn book and smiled, warmly, at the woman. They’d... met a few times, and though they didn’t know each other well, Abel enjoyed Ellie’s company. He waved her over. “Good afternoon. Want to take a seat? I’ll read you some real nice poetry,” he smiled, holding up his book.
Closed starter for @rhysjkingsbury
It happened in an instant. One minute, Rob was working on the scaffold. The next, he was on the ground, groaning, clutching his leg. Abe had sprinted to him, immediately tossing his flip phone to the nearest worker, instructing them to call an ambulance. Half an hour later, the site was quiet. It was an eerie calm, the men quiet and somber, nervously glancing from the scaffold to the spot where Rob had landed.
Somehow, Abe had been named the messenger– in lieu of the project manager who had taken the day off. He stepped away from the group and dialed the number of their boss, preparing for the worst (although he wasn’t sure what could be worse). “Hey, good afternoon, uh, Mr. Kingsbury. I’m over at the Lancaster Crossing site and...” he paused, pushing the ban of his hat up onto his sweaty forehead. “Well, yeah, there was an accident and one of our guys is in the hospital– it doesn’t look great. Just– thought you should know.”
Closed starter for @agirlnamedmason
It had become a tradition that once a week Mason would get a call from Mason, the radio host at the old falling-apart station downtown. There was always something that needed fixing, it seemed, and he guessed they’d come across his very professionally made flyers. Abe had been moonlighting as a handyman since high school; it was a good way to make some extra cash and he liked staying busy.
Knocking on the door to announce his presence, Abe let himself in with a certain sense of familiarity. He’d taken a few bets on what he thought it would be this time– his guess was a leak in the ceiling, as Wade had seen some heavy rains over the weekend. “Mason?” he called, walking back to her booth.
“You know– if you’re angling to get a frequent customer discount, I think it’s about time. What happened today?” he joked, setting his toolbag down.
Closed starter for @remi-voss
Abel had been at the site for about six hours when he felt the day’s work was finished. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for him to be the last one gone– he believed in doing a good, thorough job. If that meant checking the same screws six times over, so be it.
For the last week, his routine had been the same: work, eat, work, read, eat, sleep. His “big plan” since moving back to Wade was to start writing again, but it was much easier said than done. He felt like he had to coax the words out of his brain, slowly, bit by bit. So, instead of agonizing over the blank page, Abe had been making his way through the Wade Public Library’s poetry collection.
It was sparse, but he was about six books in and determined to make it all the way through. He waved at the librarian, Marie, and dropped his returns off at her desk. After an acceptable amount of small talk, he made his way to the poetry section, surprised to find it inhabited. Skimming admittedly grimy fingers across the shelf dividers, Abe came to the next book in his line-up: a collection of Gerard Manley Hopkins. With a smile, he picked out the book.
“Find anything good?” he asked, quirking his head to the other reader. He was always looking for recommendations and liked to get a beat on what others enjoyed reading for the day he would begin writing again.
friendly reminder: healing is not an overnight process
whaddup !!! it’s me, nikki, coming at you with my second character, my lil baby boy Abel. tbh it’ll be v interesting for him to be a shia FC because there,,,, are 0 resources... get ready for some chats sans gif <3 anyyyyways, check him out under the cut !!
Probably the best ever response to the “How/Why did you become a writer?” question.
SOME ASSEMBLY REQUIRED // a character playlist
Walls - The Lumineers // Gasoline - Houndmouth // Wish You Were Here - The Milk Carton Kids // Tennesee Whiskey - Chris Stapleton // Just Kids - Brandi Carlisle // White Ferrari (Live) - Penny and Sparrow // High Horse - Kacey Musgraves // Hurricane (Johnnie’s Theme) - Lord Huron // Kansas City - The New Basement Tapes // American Beauty - Drew Holcomb & the Neighbors // The Eye - Brandi Carlisle // It Will Come Back - Hozier // Postcard Memories - Drew Holcomb & the Neighbors // Take Me Home, Country Roads - John Denver
the necessary death of charlie countryman (2013)