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[fairy-peculiar]

I’m relieved that hope isn’t a tangible thing, because everyone around me would see mine crumbling.

Hopeless / Colleen Hoover

[fairy-peculiar]

Being with him is like breathing.

It’s intrinsic. Effortless. He’s the other half of my soul, intertwined so tightly that his flawed parts fit my missing pieces. If I don’t have him then I don’t have myself.

Scarred / Emily McIntire

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“You could burn down the entire kingdom until it’s nothing but charred rubble, and I would crawl over the embers with glee, so long as I could worship at your feet.”

Scarred / Emily McIntire

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His eyes were light brown. They were light brown in the way that a rose is red or the sky is blue. They defined what it meant to be light brown.

Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine / Gail Honeyman

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She’s a fucking vision. The kind that should hang in galleries and be revered by the masses.

The perfect type of art.

Mine

Scarred / Emily McIntire

[fairy-peculiar]

Everyone deserves to be remembered, even if it’s to imagine their soul burning in the pits of hell.

Scarred / Emily McIntire

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It often feels as if I’m not here. That I’m a figment of my own imagination. There are days when I feel so lightly connected to the earth at the threads that tether me to the planet of gossamer thin spun sugar. A strong gust of wind could dislodge me completely, and I’d lift off like one of those seeds in a dandelion clock.

Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine / Gail Honeyman

[fairy-peculiar]

He looks like a boy who wanted to grow flowers but was handed a sword instead

Starling House / Alix E. Harrow

[fairy-peculiar]

That’s the thing about resentment. It grows and wraps around every piece of you like ivy, feeding off the anger until it’s so enmeshed that it becomes you. A living, breathing, pulsating incarnation of hatred.

Scarred / Emily McIntire

[fairy-peculiar]

And the stars don’t shine as brightly when you stare at them alone.

Scarred / Emily McIntire

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[fairy-peculiar]

And nothing is both more tempting and unforgiving than watching time—slowly ticking towards your doom.

Butcher & Blackbird / Brynne Weaver

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“No one prays to the God of the Dead, my lady, and when they do, it is too late.”

A Touch of Darkness / Scarlett St. Clair

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He was calm as he spoke, and it unnerved her because she had the distinct impression he was anything but calm on the inside.

A Touch of Darkness / Scarlett St. Clair

[fairy-peculiar]

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[fairy-peculiar]

He was beautiful in a dark way—in a way that promised heartbreak.

A Touch of Darkness / Scarlett St. Clair