i must go on standing: you can't b r e a k that which isn't yours. i must go on standing: i'm not my o w n, it's not my c h o i c e. be a f r a i d of the lame, they'll inherit your legs. be a f r a i d of the old, they'll inherit your souls. be a f r a i d of the cold, they'll inherit your blood. après moi, le deluge after me comes the flood.
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wendy moira angela darling + neverland
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wendy moira angela darling + pink
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And we talked. — I talked — She listened. — And she listens heart & soul. — And it is good to feel that a listener really listens — can listen.
Alfred Stieglitz, from a letter to Georgia O’Keeffe featured in My Faraway One: Selected Letters of Georgia O'Keeffe and Alfred Stieglitz: Volume One, 1915-1933 (via violentwavesofemotion)
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you, my darling, are made of galaxies, with stardust stuck to your ribs. no wonder i could spend my nights, staring into your eyes instead of the sky.
don’t you know, the stars envy you? || k.a. (via dvlanobrein)
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The secrets inside her mind are like flowers in a garden at nighttime, filling the darkness with perfume.
Fumiko Enchi, Masks (via lindemcnns)
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and her lips? oh, her lips tasted like rain. no wonder there was a storm, crashing in her chest.
hurricane girls || k.a. (via dvlanobrein)
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dwarvesandarrows:
“But isn’t your human Hell like if you do bad things and not think bad things?”
“perhaps. but i rather think that if god, or -- or whoever judges you when you die . . . if they can SEE into your mind & they see cruel & hateful thoughts -- it might be enough to damn you. especially if you’ve thought a LOT about it. and most people have, haven’t they? even if ultimately they do not act -- the impulse is there.”

#getting introspective with wendy#ᴛʜᴇ sᴡᴇᴇᴛᴇsᴛ ᴏғ ᴡᴏʀᴅs ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʙɪᴛᴛᴇʀᴇsᴛ ᴛᴀsᴛᴇ. {interaction}#dwarvesandarrows {interaction}
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techjunkiie:
❛ NOTHING. it’s silly. ❜ who’d want to hear an eighteen year old girl ramble on about moth-man and bigfoot & how the both of them were indeed r e a l and not just some myth? nobody — because she’d, without a doubt, go on and on about it for hours if the other allowed her to. ❛ that.. that is what a scientific hypotheses is. yeah. ❜ a pause. oh no. ❛ i was going to say that if there’s one thing you should always believe in it’s bigfoot. ❜ she’d save moth-man for another day. ❛ because, despite what most people think & want to believe, there’s actually EVIDENCE that he exists. like fairies. fairies have been caught on tape & photo lots of times. ❜
THE WAY the other lit up sort of excited pidge. ❛ it’s nice. ❜ nice is an understatement, but she’s trying to keep her cool. ❛ lots of stars and between you and me? there’s a whole lot more planets than everyone — even nasa — thinks. ❜ she uses an index finger to push her glasses higher up on the bridge of her nose. she knows she probably isn’t supposed to tell people that there’s an ENTIRE alien race out there, but she trusts this girl. anyone thats gets excited over space is trustworthy! ❛ i — i had to, or, i and four friends were defending the universe from an alien race called the galra. ❜

“i LIKE hearing silly things.” she tilts her head, inviting elaboration. “do tell me. it will cheer me up.” after all, if one could not be silly from time to time, what fun would one ever have? “BIGFOOT? i have never heard of . . . him. what kind of creature is he? --- well, of course fairies must have been seen once or twice at least. they aren’t particularly CAREFUL -- and quite conceited, really.” tinkerbell, at the very least, would doubtless RELISH five minutes of fame & the chance to preen for a camera.
“i imagine space would be nice.” wendy can’t disguise her wistful tone. “how many is a whole lot? more than eight?” she leans forward, endlessly curious, a hundred and one questions brimming. she selects the most important query first: “defending the universe? --- are you some kind of champion? a KNIGHT?” of course wendy would hear aliens & planets and instead envision plate armour, silver swords & noble steeds. “that sounds . . . an enormous task, for just five people.” an unfair burden, too, for someone so young.
#fun fact ppl thought there were only 8 planets in wendy's time#pluto or whatever was 2 smol to be seen idk#i just skimmed the wikipedia page o k#ᴛʜᴇ sᴡᴇᴇᴛᴇsᴛ ᴏғ ᴡᴏʀᴅs ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʙɪᴛᴛᴇʀᴇsᴛ ᴛᴀsᴛᴇ. {interaction}#techjunkiie {interaction}
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rpmemes-galore:
BOLD YOUR MUSE’S PREFERENCES! { food edition }
Cake or Ice cream?
Sweet or Spicy?
Potato Chips or French Fries?
Seasoned or Bland?
Cookies or Brownies?
Salad or Pizza?
Turkey or Chicken?
Hamburger or Cheeseburger?
Sour or Bitter?
Homecooked or Takeout?
Hot or Cold?
Beef or Pork?
Chocolate or White Chocolate?
Fruit or Vegetables?
Soft or Hard Shell Tacos?
Tea or Coffee?
Stuffing or Mashed Potatoes?
Cake or Pie?
Fresh Ingredients or From The Can?
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she’s the girl with a fairytale face but her mouth screams like a wolf’s
words of the consultant, minjeong son (via paroi)
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WENDY DARLING + MOODBOARD
“one day when she was two years old she was playing in a garden, and she plucked another flower and ran with it to her mother. i suppose she must have looked rather delightful, for mrs. darling put her hand to her heart and cried, ‘oh, why can’t you remain like this for ever!’ this was all that passed between them on the subject, but henceforth wendy knew that she must grow up. you always know after you are two. two is the beginning of the end.”
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funny, how wendy feels so much more ALIVE than she has for some time. any number of things might be the catalyst, but she suspects it is the company: not someone picked out of a line-up of respectable acquaintances, with whom the entire story is already mapped out; but a man who is an UNKNOWN quantity. he does not expect anything of her. or rather, he does, and it is so different to what every one else expects. “i suppose --- i suppose there is just a hint of excitement.” is there any point trying to be COY now? wendy isn’t sure she knows how. “but i think perhaps i am more suited to voyeurism than exhibitionism.” no, that certainly was not coy.
he offers to leave and wendy is struck by an almost irresistible urge to wrap her leg around his waist, dig her fingers into the pleasing broad expanse of his back & press forward, anchoring him here with the FEW weapons at her disposal. as such, she is not quite daring enough yet; but she bends her knee to hook her ankle behind his calf, one hand curling at the back of his neck. “IF you are willing to go, i can’t stop you. IF you think i can find my way home alone. IF you would not feel guilty if harm befell me.” she turns her head, so that ward may kiss her mouth again -- or her neck, or her cheek; whichever he finds most tempting. in case she was not DIRECT enough, wendy adds: “i am not bothered. but do you think --- should i be?”
( &. @ratherdclightful )
this girl –––– wendy darling, she supplies, & especially after a few drinks he can’t shake how much the surname tickles him –––– wasn’t initially part of ward’s plan. not that he actually HAS a plan; here, in this new world, he has no ties, no responsibilities, no people to report to or seek guidance from or direct orders to anywhere. he’s ALONE. but so is she, & this may be why he turns on the charm immediately instead of turning her away. tugs on his agent of SHIELD mask like he never stopped wearing it & pretends he’s a good guy, the kind capable of making her laugh, of normalcy, of fresh starts. ( & if he tries hard enough, maybe even HE can start to believe it. )
but he isn’t normal. normal men, good men aren’t consumed by this savage LONELINESS, they don’t seek a moment’s reprieve by pushing young women against walls & kissing them breathless in an alleyway, of all places. but here he is, a rotten man through & through, fingers poised at the small of her back as he slowly pulls her body against his. “ isn’t that the POINT?? ” he murmurs, voice low, dragging his mouth gradually over her skin until his lips linger at the corners of her own. “ are you trying to tell me that the possibility of being seen isn’t even a little bit exciting?? ” a tactful pause, then he drops the amusement, presses a chaste kiss against her cheek instead. “ unless it BOTHERS you –––– i can go. ”
#WENDY USING BIG WORDS DOESN'T MAKE IT LESS DIRTY I'M JS#ᴛʜᴇ sᴡᴇᴇᴛᴇsᴛ ᴏғ ᴡᴏʀᴅs ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʙɪᴛᴛᴇʀᴇsᴛ ᴛᴀsᴛᴇ. {interaction}#specivlist {interaction}#she is trying bless her. idk WHAT she's trying. but she is#obv not trying to be smaRT tho
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[text] I’m making poor life decisions again. Tune in tomorrow to see how much I hate life.
tfln; accepting
{ to: Chloe } What kinds of poor life choices? The type that leads to unexpected escapades, or the other more depressing kind?{ to: Chloe } Either way, I may need to join you. I’m feeling rather pessimistic of late.{ to: Chloe } Unless these are solo poor life choices, that is. In which case I wish you… luck?
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around the world: london, uk
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audrey’s CONFIDENT tone was enough to reassure wendy; help her relax into the sensation of the fingers combing gently through her hair. she closed her eyes, keeping as still as she could. “what are they like? --- your FRIENDS.” wendy had never had many friends; at least not BEST friends. she either clung too tight — scared people away — or she was too distant, too STRANGE. she had learned, over the years, to be happy with what she was offered: casual acquaintances carefully cultivated to suit social events; never anything too DEEP or serious. but she was curious.
she bit her lip, a little EAGER, breath held in as audrey sprayed her hair — and then opened her eyes wide, searching for her reflection as soon as audrey gave her permission to move. “it looks — so pretty.” wendy tilted her head, watching the waves of the braid flow. “you have a GIFT, it seems.” she turned to face audrey, taking one of the girl’s hands — which had done such fine work — between her own. “you must allow me to repay your kindness somehow.” she paused, evaluating her own gifts. “i am quite good at darning. if you ever have any stockings that need mending.”
* [ ♥ ] @ratherdclightful
❛ YES! i know what i’m doing — don’t worry. ❜ was said with the softest laugh. finding emma duval’s ‘ long lost twin ’ was one thing but actually hanging out with her & getting to know her was another thing. another couple strands of hair were taken delicately into her own hands and gently tugged & twisted upon until they, too, were part of the waterfall braid. ❛ i’m practically an expert. i used to braid two of my best friends��� hair all the time. ❜ noah foster was damn lucky HE didn’t have longer hair otherwise she’d be braiding his hair, too. every one of the lakewood five had a coping mechanism or two; a thing they could distract themselves and their minds with when the memories came flooding back. take the virgin for example: his was the murder board & the graphic novel. audrey’s? her camcorder, camera, and things like this. braiding hair, painting nails, doing makeup, etc, etc. she’d never done any of it to herself because it wasn’t HER thing. she stuck to strictly doing it for other people if and when they asked — or if she just felt like it. like today.
❛ ALMOST DONE. ❜ she said as she took another few strands of hair and repeated the same process from earlier. every now and then she’d throw in a flower pin or some equally as adorable hair decoration. she made sure to be gentle because the last thing she wanted to do was go hurting another person. ❛ alright. ❜ she used a small rubber band to secure the braid and then used a white ribbon to tie a bow around the rubber band to keep it from showing. any stray hairs were put back in their place with the help of some hairspray. ❛ DONE. and, if i do say so myself, it looks pretty good! ❜
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