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@perishingragdoll
I will not fall prey to society’s desire to turn girls into emotional insecure neurotics who pull up their dresses at the first flattering remark.
You just don’t like him.
I’m honestly not a bad person, my heart is in the right place; it’s just that my head isn’t.
Adam Zucconi (via ourlousylittleegos)
“I am my heart’s undertaker. Daily I go and retrieve its tattered remains, place them delicately into its little coffin, and bury it in the depths of my memory, only to have to do it all again tomorrow.”
Emilie Autumn, The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls
The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places
inspiration (x)
Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina
xlipsredastherose:
She hears it — feels the ice in her voice, that little sharp peak, and Eirwen shrinks away immediately, back from her redhead partner and the test tubes. “Never mind,” she mumbles quickly but quietly, eyes downcast to her shoes as she stands awkwardly, her weight shifting to her other foot. Please don’t be wrong, Eirwen thinks instead, hoping her partner is indeed correct and she is the one mistaken, because Eirwen doesn’t want to see the effect of two wrongly combined chemicals.
"I'm--" Oh little doll what have you done, her heart sputters nervously in it's bone-cased cage, caught in an awkward moment. An brush of lip into teeth, tongue dabbing on the surface, she's toppled into uncertainty now and hates the feeling of that brushing under her skin. An inhale of oxygen, as conjures of chemically burned skin and crumbling plaster fill her head, the thought turning her ill as she was raised to please and never be the one at the sharp end of a knife. Sea-green irises shift towards the girl standing beside her, anxious fingertips on the test tube, an lift of her index, a shuffle of her ring, she's uncertain and killing time. Her tongue licks her top lip, and she can't pour it in because the gnawing fear of being wrong has reached her core. An brush of her ivory hand on the ink-stained textbook, head bent as her eyes devour the recipe before her.
"---Let me just double check."
who will love you like this with all these awfully broken bits?
(things he said that i got stuck in) // r.i.d (via feuerdove)
chelsea-castillo:
The internet is a wonderful place, dolly.
Did you enjoy my music? Why am I asking, of course you did.
My god, having you on the internet is a terror, just so you know.
I fear you only listen in opposites, if I told you I didn't, that would only mean I did and contrary wise.
Autumn leaves | Sally & Adam
twistedxbeast:
The beast really wasn’t sure why he ventured into the woods, he’d just wanted to get away from the rest of the students. He could only handle being around them for so long before he craved isolation, and because his dorm room was already preoccupied, the last place that held interest was the woods. He’d just been planning to spend a couple of hours walking around the forest before coming out and going back to his hopefully empty room. Travelling outside wasn’t an activity that the blonde took part in a lot, preferring to spend his time behind closed doors, either reading to simply relaxing by himself.
However as time went on, he began to get cold in the frosty November air, and was ready to go back inside, and warm up. Thankfully he liked coffee, and figured it would help his cause. Stumbling through the mass of trees as he shivered from the cold that tried to penetrate his clothes, he snapped quite a few twigs, hearing as they echoed through the woods. Grunting, he snarled at himself, banging his fist against one of the trunks. “Fuck! Why did I ever do this?” Groaning the beast slumped his back against the cold wood, trying to calm himself down. Anger was something that often coursed through Adam’s veins, and it was something that he couldn’t control very well. Often bursts of the toxic substance bound through his self and caused him to do things that he should’ve regretted.
Suddenly he heard another voice after he barreled through the woods, snapping a few twigs in the process. Groaning, he stopped and looked around for the source of the voice, calling out himself. “Hello? Is someone else there?” Even though he hoped that no one was, if he was being honest, he needed a way out of the woods. Since his outburst he’d calmed down, and was more annoyed than angry. He was cold now and wanted to warm up, and it was worth it to be with someone for a few minutes to get out. Despite his hate of most people, if it were for his best interest, he’d try to be nice to them to get out.
Oh, sweet silence and how quickly it can be tampered with. The woods is an amphitheater for her ears, playing off the many sounds night has to offer and creating wrongful images — it’s misplay at worst, or even best. But its making her uncomfortable. It’s only a wonder how she’s able to stay in one spot for so long. Life might be easier if you didn't imagine everything had an craving to eat you alive, the terrors that scratched through her rib-cage to her core to beat in real raw timing with her heart, her throat is wrestling with an scream trapped in the pit of her stomach that is beginning to rise and nails that dig into the skin of her palm, drawing the copper smell of pennies in the air.
Wind whistles through the trees, and skeleton branches reach for the redhead whose all alone. All the elements of it being late are in the air, the school's lights have faded into the distance, the stretch of darkness around the figures in the woods, that type of hollow that fills her bones when the spill of night comes out, the people who once existed and lingered in their vicinity have all come and gone, there was only the voice that cut through the air like a knife. Her heart was so tired of being frighted, but that didn't stop it from rattling the bars on its cage. Twigs snap as if broken bones, and the cold is curling around her spine, winter's frost hanging on the trees above.
Jade hues narrow slightly in inspection when the boy comes into sight, tripping out behind an tall evergreen tree. Hand curved on the harsh bark, the archives of her mind slip out the facts she knows about this particular boy. Not much, in fact she's even an stranger to his name, but she knows that cruelness tends to follow his path and for that he's already without favor, little ragdoll why so vexed. She tastes iron in her mouth as she bits the skin of her lip, an welling of panic scratching at her throat. Her bravado doesn't diminish the fact she gets ill at disappointing people and the boy before her is hard to please. An crack of her lips into an brush of an clever grin. "...I guess if we have too die, it won't be alone. What do you think will get us first, starvation or the wolves?" Eyebrows knitted together and she tries to tone down the hopefulness captured in her voice, but it still shines bright as her head tilts. "---Unless you know some magic exit route out of here?" She's forgotten the direction she came from, and the woods are an coliseum with wolves ravenously waiting to lick their bones.
hook-of-steel:
All the science mumbo jumbo makes my head hurt. Unless it’s about chemistry and how to make drugs it shouldn’t be repeated outside a classroom.
You're still on about me teaching you how to cook drugs? I'm pretty sure you can learn all you need to know in an breaking bad episode James.