#phantomstrings

[white-decay]

hi guys! i decided to open up a redbubble shop to sell prints of my art

please check it out! i would appreciate it a lot ☆

[debeklena]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LEX !!

nothing ever ends  poetically. it ends and we turn it into P O E T R Y. all that  BLOOD was never once beautiful. IT WAS JUST RED. 

[pulledfromhellarchive]

me: i think dean’s going to become a reaper there was a fucking scythe. lex: wait a skype???? me: yes, all dean needs to do to get rid of the mark is sign up for skype.

[loveisaviolence1]

@phantomstrings.

        “ you found all of that out in FIFTEEN MINUTES?     i don’t know that much about  jesus, & i read the whole book. ”         she’s five feet of impressed, and two inches of pure awe. 

[nofuckinuse-blog]

written for phantomstrings

         “ you intrested in a smoke, love ? ? ”

[lydiaendures]

I’d like to take a moment to scream about lex ( catatonicserialkiller; phantomstrings; banefulfury and her other million accounts that i don’t feel like tagging ) because she literally just made me a beautiful theme without me even asking her to and i’m so in love and she’s really like a+ and everyone should go look at my new theme because lex made it and it’s perfect and she’s beautiful and i love her 

[bourboneyesarchive-blog]

written for phantomstrings.

      “ i know, i know        airiana, come back inside, you’re drunk and          there’s big bad monsters that go  bump  in  the  night  out  here,          i know. just       ... gimme a minute.”

[loveisaviolence1]

             alice loves rosalie, has since the moment she first saw her ( the heart in her chest had so much LOVE locked within its chambers, & she did not guard it; it was theirs for the taking, and the new world she’s been born into has been kinder to it than the last one. that, and the fact that as OVERFLOWING as it was, it was still made of stone, and her affection at times came across in terrifying degrees. )  & more than that, she loves fawning over her. with a squeal that rings as true as it ever did, bereft of even a decade’s worth of tiredness, she skips towards rose, letting her arms wrap around her. ‘ emmett stole you away for a long time, ’ she accuses with a pout, although a very large part of her was sure it’d likely been the other way around.  ‘ you missed bella’s eighteenth and a half birthday party! i managed to tone it done some from last time, but i found this extravagant website that --- ’ and cue some more excited babble, never faltering in consistency --- ‘ anyways, how was your getaway with emmett? ’ ( @phantomstrings. )

[undeviled-blog]

       without invitation, helena sits down in the chair across from the man, eyes attuned to him, and more importantly, his lunch. her sestra is always telling her how important it is to speak with her words rather than with her actions, but considering that her sarah shot her once, she isn’t so sure she has a leg to stand on. of course, helena knows all about manners, she has been to many places and seen many things, and tomas always made sure to keep her from harm.                  ‘ are you going to eat this ?’         sarah would be proud of her for asking rather than reaching over into his plate, or so she tells herself, but it doesn’t matter because she is not here and their adventures are over and she is hungry. as if to gain his appreciation, she flashes him a generous smile that looks a little strange paired with her blonde main and lion-ish appearance, but hey, she’s trying here. 

[lydiaendures]

Me: *logs onto tumblr*

Me: *sees a wall full of maximoffs*

Me: lex is home

[lingeringscars]

S O U L M A T E. The word has been ingrained in his mind since before he can remember. Everyone has a soulmate. On the day of their eighteenth birthday, they found out just who that soulmate was. It was carved into their wrist, an imprint, a tattoo that would never leave them. The person’s name would forever be marked on their bodies. Turning eighteen the next day, saying that he was nervous would be an understatement. Ryan was passed the point of nervousness and had moved on to flat out terrified. What if he didn’t recognize the name of the person he was destined to be with? What if he did? What if his soulmate was someone else’s soulmate?? There were cases where it had happened. What if, like his parents, his soulmate didn’t necessarily make him happy? Thoughts were rampant in his brain, and it was no wonder that he couldn’t fall asleep. Minutes turned into hours, and soon it was midnight. He was the unlucky person who was born at 12:03 in the morning, meaning he had three more minutes before his destiny was burned into his wrist, and he couldn’t even be asleep for it. 

Eyes glued to the clock, he watched as it ticked down the longest minutes of his life. Two more...One more... and then it was there. The stinging sensation in his wrist that meant it was beginning, and he couldn’t bear to watch as the name marked him. It didn’t make sense. The process made absolutely no logical sense, but it happened, and it stung, like he imagined a tattoo would. Just as quickly as it began, it was over. His eyes did not drop, rather his fingers moved to trace the name that was burned into his skin. Running over it, surprisingly smooth, as if it was old and hadn’t just appeared on his skin moments before. Thirty minutes, forty minutes, and hour, and he still hadn’t torn his eyes from the clock that ticked on his bedside table. It wasn’t until 2:03 that he finally allowed a glance down. 

                                                  ɢᴀɢᴇ ᴍᴄʙʀɪᴅᴇ

He could feel his heart leap into his throat as the letters formed the word in his mind. Gage. His soulmate was Gage. The one person he was destined to be with for all his life was his best friend. He should feel relief. He loved Gage already, would always love her. And he could easily see himself falling in love with her, but he was petrified. Petrified that it would change something between them. That they wouldn’t be able to handle it. That the name on her wrist was one that wasn’t his own. There was the underlining burning in his chest that made sure he knew that he was also glad. Because if there was one person on the planet he could see himself being with for the rest of his life, it was Gage McBride. 

It came in fleeting moments. When she smiled at him, and he felt like nothing could go wrong in the world because she was smiling and there was nothing more that he liked than her smile. Or when his fingers brushed against calloused knuckles when she pulled him along for one of her crazy adventures that he not so secretly loved. Or when words were exchanged with just one glance. Or when she couldn’t sleep and snuck into his house and crawled into his bed and he feels her breath on his neck and it’s calming for both of them, falling asleep to the other’s heartbeat. And it was moments like those where he thought ‘I could fall in love with you, and it would be as easy as breathing.’ 

His hand had reached for his phone, eyes still glued to his wrist as he dials her number, without a second thought or glance in the direction because it was memorized. Beat by beat, movement by movement, instinctive. He holds the phone up to his ear, silently hoping she doesn’t pick up. 

[loveisaviolence1]

@phantomstrings.

      ‘ hey, rogers. ’

    & a familiar crooked smile tugs at her lips as she eyes him, warmed by the silence that has never once been this COMFORTABLE, and the stern furrow of his brow. she watches him a little bit more than she should, surely more than she’d ever admit to anyone  --  in truth, he makes it all to EASY for her. she’s drawn to him, and the way the patches of light bounce off each and every curve of his skin, and maybe even in the way she’s allowed to want to lay her head on his shoulder when it gets dark and they’re the only people in the world because he’s unattainable, and also because when he sometimes weaves his way into her dreams, he’s the only thing that isn’t black or red.  it’s only when he doesn’t seem to notice her prodding that her expression becomes more solemn, and she finds herself reaching forward to touch his arm -- the same way he touches her on occasion, brief, feather-light touches with entirely FRIENDLY intentions that she sometimes convinces herself mean that he sees her, that she’s not INVISIBLE --- because he sees her. 

       ( and oh, she sees him, too. ) 

     ‘ --- steve. hey. where’s your head at? ’

[bourboneyesarchive-blog]

@phantomstrings.

okay so knocking out the security guard wasn’t one of her FINER MOMENTS, but it happened and she’d lie about it except for the fact that guy in charge is a telepath and it’s a little hard to lie when someone’s reading your mind. but her fist found his face and she found the booze and it was only a matter of time before someone opened this damn closet. 

brunette strands cling to the adhesive of her sweat and steady footsteps that she does not recognize counteract the uneven quickness of her breath. this was not good. this was really not good. this chick is gonna open the closet door airi’s been hiding out in for the last fifteen minutes, looking for whatever smells like absolute horse shit and airiana’s second superpower, finding trouble, is gonna kick into gear and then get her kicked out of this place.

ripping open the door without a second thought, airiana’s hand rips open the door and leeches onto the brunette, yanking her into the closet with a grip that’s a little too forceful.

“ SHH !!! ” airi’s hand index finger flies up to the girl’s mouth, pressed against her lips. “ SHH SHH SHH !!! ”

[bourboneyesarchive-blog]

written for phantomstrings.

saltzman’s drink a lot.        it’s a known fact. and even though there isn’t many of them to prove this,        if all three are raging alcoholics, it’s safe to say it’s a family trait. age was        never really a factor for airiana either. she’d only become legal as of this        year but she’d been an alcoholic since the day her lips touched a bar glass.         and they share this in their own weird way. it’s their thing. always has been.

      “ here. ”  the brunette sighs, sliding a glass of sloppily poured bourbon       across the counter.                                                “ you look like shit. ”