someday you'll see me at bookstores

she/her I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.

[amethyst-planet]

Art is by frostbite.studios on Instagram

[larabiam]

I wish we'd gotten more scenes between Wolf and Maha

Do you think he told her how Ran died? Do you think she cried? Was he scared of her throwing him out?

And he talked about Scarlet, that is mentioned, but what did he say? How she loved him despite being a mutant? The way she asked about his scars?

Did he tell her how much he liked tomatoes, or how much he'd missed her, or how scared he'd been?

And when Aimery was breaking her fingers and she saw him and Cinder come out of the house, do you think she was more afraid of dying, or of her baby being taken again?

Idk. Just thoughts.

[larabiam]

Rampion Crew fanart!!

Hi! This is my first ever post, so I'm kinda nervous, but I wanted to share this fanart I made of the Rampion Crew. It's been a while since I've read the books, so it might be a little inaccurate (also I took some creative liberties, as in, I made Jacin still have noticeable scars from the flogging), but overall I think it turned out good. Let me know what you think!

[dawniebb]

Collateral Damage Pt.1

So, continuing with the journey @healing-winston-pratt and I have decided to take to rise Winston and Callum from the death, here’s another fic, and this time is about Winston :) This one is a full collaboration, meaning we both wrote this, so we hope you enjoy it XD

Part 2 will be uploaded by her soon.

You can fin the canon divergence explanation here.

And Callum’s fic is here

THERE’S MILD SELF HARM MENTIONS IN HERE

When Winston woke up, all he could see were the lights. Blindingly bright lights. And he stared at the ceiling for a while, because he didn’t know what else to do besides waiting until the rest of his senses responded to him.

His gaze remained fixated on those lights; later, he began to smell; and his surroundings were penetrated with a latex odor, combined with chlorine and something putrid… in the sense that everything smelled like blood and wounds. That is, in case wounds had a characteristic smell to them. To Winston’s view, they did. Everything had a smell, just like everything could be related with a specific color. 

But that was just him, maybe. 

Then he started to hear. And he heard the worried, hesitant chattering all around him. People screaming orders, people screaming as they followed those orders; people bawling; people in a deep state of distress calling some person’s name; he heard questions, some of them empty, routinary ones and others filled with much more substance, meant to subtract more specific details about something. 

Then he started touching, although he didn’t touch anything; he just felt the sheets beneath him, and the uncomfortable mattress and the cold structure of the hospital bed. 

A hospital bed. 

A hospital.

And a very…broken hospital. 

The building seemed fine, of course. But the place…not so much.

Keep reading

[larabiam]

Fuck off, this was supposed to make me feel better not to take away the little mental health I had!