A Winding Road...

itsraininbritishmen:

cant-catch-this-snitch:

castiels-hunter:

caffine-addict:

themeeg:

tin-pan-ali:

taking-the-tardis-to-asgard:

mymahoganymyrules:

maslab:

jykinturah:

nomiros:

takeshitakenji:

“Someone should write a book where the main character slowly falls in love with the reader.”

Last line of the book : “Please, don’t close the book, I don’t want to die”

oh my god

I’d just like, keep the book open and tape it to a wall.

I’m almost afraid to want it.

John Green, we’re waiting.

“So I guess this is it, isn’t it? There are no more chapters, right? You said we were getting close and that was a while ago.”

I stared up into the sky, it was the same old sky there had always been, except for some rainclouds that hadn’t been there a few minutes ago. It wasn’t raining, but they were still floating up there, grey and dismal.

You begin to ask me something.

“Don’t ask me how I know, I just do. Things just feel really final right now, like the downward slope is starting to level out. Eventually… We’ll hit the back cover, right?”

I sat down on a bench- had that been there a few minutes ago? It was hard to tell.

“Did you say yes? I think I heard you. Your voice keeps getting harder to hear.”

Thunder rumbled, but… It wasn’t like the thunder I’m used to. It sounded like you, and it sounded sad. From one of the clouds, a single drop of rain fell on the grainy wood of the bench.

“… You’re crying, aren’t you? I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. I wish I could change this. I wish I could reach where you are.”

Thunder rolled again, and behind it was a voice. Your voice.

“Me? I’ll be fine, I think. I don’t know if this has ever happened before. I don’t really know what happens when you… close the book.”

You ask me if I’m afraid.

And oddly, I’m not.

“No, actually. Because… Whatever happens to me when you close the cover… You can always open the book up again, right?” and that’s when the answer hits me, the realization jolting me to stand again. “That’s it, isn’t it? You can open it back up. The words won’t change, but I’ll still be here. You can meet me all over again, and I can meet you, and everything we have will come back.”

It’s raining now, and the clouds have merged together, and in them, for the first time… I see you. 

You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen in my entire life.

You’re crying, but it’s quiet, and maybe that was the sound of your tears hitting paper.

I realize that we don’t have a lot of time.

“Listen- before it’s all over- I want you to know that everything, all of this… Even being over, it was worth it. It was worth it to meet you, to get to know you. Even if when you close that cover and I disappear- it was all worth it. I love you.”

You love me too, I know it, I can feel it, just like for a moment I can feel what it would be like to hold your hand.

There is a very long pause, and I realize you’re prolonging what has to happen.

“You can do it.”

For the first time, you have to be the hero. You have to close the book so we can keep going. And I believe in you.

The sky gets darker, slowly, but then it gets light again, and your face is still up in those clouds. You open your mouth and for the first time I HEAR you, not just feel what you’re saying or understand you in my own head, your voice comes through the pages in your world and into the reality of mine, and it reverberates and I can hear every little nuance, down to the hitch from you crying.

“I’ll never forget you,” you say. “I’ll come back soon.”

The end.

SOMEONE DID AND NOW IM EMOTIONAL

Plot Twist: 

“I love you.” She whispered softly closing the book. Her fantasy must end and he must die with it no matter how great their love. Tears fell from her eyes, landing upon the hard worn cover of her most beloved book. The book in which lied the love of her life. The book that loved her back. She ached to open it again but she could not continue like this. She must move on and live a life not in her precious book. Sobs racked her body as she walked to the self, hesitantly sliding her beloved book into the shelf. It was only for a time, she told herself. That she would come back again and read the story of her love again and that she may fall in love again. Whipping her eyes she turned toward the door, but froze in her tracks. A man stood there, concern lining his every feature. She knew that face. It was exactly as she had pictured it, from every line of his jaw to the exact color of his eyes. This can’t be possible.

“Why are you crying?”  Oh, his voice. That was his voice. It was as soothing as she had imagined. Her knees grew week and her mind went numb. She struggled for words as he approached her slowly, he knelt before her and touched her cheek, worry etched in his gentle movement. “What’s wrong? Has something happened?”

She could only choke out, “You’re real?”

I’M SCREAMING

FUCK IT GOT BETTER

Imc rying in the dark. Rice pudding smeared all over…arrrrrrrrrrrfhgfjydhgkhhgughutou

(via sartorialing)

best from the press room;

jennifer lawrence, anne hathaway, adele

(Source: lastisle, via n-kita)

locksandglasses:

scaramouche:

noartificialingredients:

temporary-sanity:

mrpondismypatronus:

playitagain:

5 Seconds of Every #1 Billboard Hot 100 Hit From 1993-2011

I just listened to this whole thing and relived my childhood/life. 

Listening to this 30+ min nostalgia k-hole was fun, but it’s so crazy to seamlessly hear how much louder and repetitive pop music has become…esp. in the 2K’s

It’s crazy how you can here how different groups and artists dominate a particular time, TLC Britney Usher Destiny’s Child 50 cent Justin Timberlake Lady Gaga… yeah

(Source: leilockheart, via karma-is-blind)

notesonascandal:

superhussyisms:

Book Of The Week

Mignon R. Moore brings to light the family life of a group that has been largely invisible—gay women of color—in a book that challenges long-standing ideas about racial identity, family formation, and motherhood. Drawing from interviews and surveys of one hundred black gay women in New York City, “Invisible Families “explores the ways that race and class have influenced how these women understand their sexual orientation, find partners, and form families. In particular, the study looks at the ways in which the past experiences of women who came of age in the 1960s and 1970s shape their thinking, and have structured their lives in communities that are not always accepting of their openly gay status. Overturning generalizations about lesbian families derived largely from research focused on white, middle-class feminists, “Invisible Families” reveals experiences within black American and Caribbean communities as it asks how people with multiple stigmatized identities imagine and construct an individual and collective sense of self.

I would love to read this book. I’m interested in all aspects of motherhood, especially for WoC.

(via 808snheartaches)

(Source: zvpplin, via 808snheartaches)

gigglebug:

randomstupidchaos:

I still do this. -_-

only to my parents. to everyone else, I tell them about this writer’s group I’m a part of online and met all these cool people.

although… when it came to Lassie’s death, I told everyone out here that I had known her from back home. :\

for some reason mentioning that I was shaken up about the death of an online-friend seems to lessen the friendship, as unfair as it is. I’m still bothered by people who think you can’t make good friends online.

Same. It’s gonna be fun to explain to my parents how I met all these people who are coming to my wedding. Yes, my online friends are gonna be in my wedding party. An RG-style wedding in real life?  I think yes. :)

(Source: thatssomaeven)

myfifteenminutes:

♕

Swoooon. I totally need to see Ides of March. And Drive.

(Source: ocelott, via buriiana)

I had such a fantastic time in Tallahassee. It’s a quaint little town (that was the descriptor of the week) with plenty of hidden gems. I’ll be putting up pictures soon, of course, but some of my favorite moments went undocumented. Like bumming on the couch and watching bad TV with my besties. Or sightseeing in the rain armed with a too small umbrella, a too hot jacket, and a too thin poncho. 

It’s strange. While we were together it was like we’d never been apart. As soon as we separate… well, I miss them already.