lionhearted

Robyn Sylvester. 20. Occidental College. I said to the sun, ‘Tell me about the big bang.’ The sun said, 'It hurts to become.'

[xo-lucysa-blog]

“Glad to know you’re enjoying it so well.” Lucy drawled from the doorway that she was leaned against. She’d love to say that she hadn’t rushed over the second she heard that Robyn was home, but that’d be a lie. Lucy tried to avoid lying unless there was no other option. “Really, it’s quite reassuring to know my gift has gone to good use.”

[r-sylvester]

Robyn rolled her eyes and sank further into the couch she sat on. Although her trip to New Jersey had been relatively short, a brief assessment of the place she was soon moving to, she had missed Lucy. She was the only reason this was even happening, after all. “Give it time,” she said, amusement clear, “I’m sure I’ll get used to the ugliness.”

[r-sylvester]

lunaxellison:

“You California kids, I don’t what to do with ya’ll,” Luna said with a chuckle. “Good, glad you’re here and I have no work today so we I can show you my favourite places.”

“Thank god. You have to show me everything that’s worthwhile so I don’t look like a tourist loser when I move here in August. Though I don’t know who would come here just to look at the scenery.”

[lunaxellison]

“I missed you too, asshole! Bout time you were on my side of the world. How are you?”

[r-sylvester]

“It’s, like, twenty degrees colder and everyone talks weird. But aside from that, I’m good! At least I’m not on the fucking plane anymore. And you--how’ve you been?”

[r-sylvester]

lunaxellison:

“You fucking suck.”

“Not as much as you. I missed you, you fucking loser.”

[r-sylvester]

“New Jersey fucking sucks.”

[subtleelevation-deactivated2018]

[noceiling-m]

[xo-lucysa-blog]

“Writing is torture.” Lucy explained. Then, after a pause, she added, “Or should I say not writing. Trying to write and failing… it’s awful, and I hate everything.”

[r-sylvester]

“What, like, you have no ideas or you just keep rereading everything and thinking it sucks?” Robyn arched an eyebrow, balancing her chin on the heel of her hand. “You’re trying too hard.”

[appleschxster]

“High school was a simpler time. I can’t stand college.”

[r-sylvester]

“I can’t believe it took you ‘til now to be disillusioned.”

[elliot-calloway]

“Downside of living alone is remembering food doesn’t just magically appear out of nowhere. You actually got to make it.”

[r-sylvester]

“That’s why I rely on takeout, like, seventy-five percent of the time.”

[xo-lucysa-blog]

[r-sylvester]

“What’s with that face?”

[r-sylvester]

[xo-lucysa-blog]

@r-sylvester

So…surprise. I applied for you. You got in. Ball’s in your court now.

[r-sylvester]

♤

When Lucy suggested it, Robyn had been surprised. It took a couple moments of near-awkward silence for her to collect herself again and respond with a faux-confident smirk. And while she’d just barely managed to convince herself that she’d survive it, sitting there, her legs bumping against Lucy’s and splashing at her with narrowed eyes, it felt... domestic. And it was weird, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, just normal and easy in the same way everything with Lucy was normal and easy.

[wordsnquotes]

It’s funny. I still feel like a little girl . I’m still looking around to check and see what other people are doing to make sure I’m not completely different; I’m still looking around for help, hoping for a quick nudge and a whisper of advice. But I can’t seem to be able to catch anybody’s eye. Nobody else around me seems to be looking around and wondering what to do. Why is it that I feel like I’m the only person who is confused and concerned about the choices I’ve made and where I’m headed?

Cecelia Ahern, Love, Rosie (via inquiieto)

[queensgcmbit]

but this is what she learned from her mother: always run before you get too close, conceal your talons beneath pale pink nails and a honeyed tongue until the moment is right, smile, smile, smile.

steal his heart, but never let him steal yours / i.s. (via kaladndekars)

[wordsnquotes]

I know I’m not myself with people… But am I myself when alone? That seems unlikely, too.

Susan Sontag, Reborn: Journals & Notebooks (1947-1963)