I Wish People Could Understand What They Say Affects The Other Person To An Extent That They Start Hating/doubting

“There are times when I am convinced I am unfit for any human relationship.”

-Franz Kafka

This fanfic has been the only thing I've been able to focus on all day. Holy shit. It's so good and I cant wait for the next chapter, it's honestly a master peice.

Easier Than Lying: Masterlist

Summary: When a fire-wielding vigilante starts tearing her way through Orynth, Detective Rowan Whitethorn is tasked with putting her behind bars. He doesn’t know who she is, what she looks like, or what she wants.

But the one thing he does know?

She’s his mate.

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Illustrated Map of ETL's Orynth Playlist

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Fun lovely things by people I love

Playlist by @rowanaelinn

Playlist by @aelinchocolatelover

Moodboard 1 and Moodboard 2 by @themoonthestarsthesuriel

Moodboard by @morganofthewildfire

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Rating: E for smut, language, and canon-typical violence

Prologue Chapter 1: The Meeting Chapter 2: The Bond Chapter 3: The Swap Chapter 4: The Boy Chapter 5: The Name Chapter 6: The Gift Chapter 7: The Reporter Chapter 8: The Truce Chapter 9: The Source Chapter 10: The Video Chapter 11: The Funeral Chapter 12: The Manifest Chapter 13: The Rescue Chapter 14: The Chase Chapter 15: The Talk Chapter 16: The Bargain Chapter 17: The Date Chapter 18: The List Chapter 19: The SurvivorsChapter 20: The Party Chapter 21: The Truth Chapter 22: The Fire Chapter 23: The Fight

/ ~40

She's a 10 but she falls in love with every fictional man that raises her expectations for love

in the morning, it's light academia at night, it's dark academia in the brain, it chaotic academia

want that indie movie, rainy days, reading 4 fun, kate bush, tired smiles, i am not okay with this, music playing, cool girl, lipgloss, doc martens, thrifting, effortless beauty, wlw, mazzy star, chipped nail polish, doodling, dim lighting, end of the f***ing world, quiet, baggy clothes, wind blowing ur hair out of ur face, carolina by taylor swift, record shops, leather jackets, red, messy hair, sunset walks, polaroid photos, crystal rings, smudged eyeliner, fairy lights, playing guitar kind of life i think thats what i deserve

currently sobbing at the bus stop

"...You think things would have been different, if I'd been here?"

"I don't know." No, that's not true. He knew how it could've ended, maybe he would've ran away with Todd the night when his parents are asleep, or they could've called Mr. Keating to get them away. So many possibilities yet none took place. "Maybe."

They stand there, for another moment, the wind whispering across the ocean the only sound.

There's nothing left to say. There's everything left to say, and Neil's already wasted every chance to say it. It's too late for redemption, too late for forgiveness. Too late.

Todd's the first to move. He turns away, takes a step towards Charlie and the others.

Looks back, just once.

"Goodbye, Neil."

He doesn't respond.

He doesn't look back as Todd's footsteps recede, as the telltale hum of the portal spikes, once, and then falls silent.

They're gone.

He's alone.

"Goodbye," Neil whispers to the wind. --- pss @aedan-mills @impressedcauliflower @zeegy @inahallucination @nik-knacks

my souls still wracked with longing to see you

We have always loved and we will continue to love. Oh, the beauty of human connection!

Whatever you do, don’t imagine todd the night after neil had passed, after the ceremony and all the days events, sitting alone in his room staring straight at neil’s bed.

the messy bed with the blankets thrown back and the pillow still creased after neil had woken up and left for the play. and how none of the poets had dared to touch it.

how todd became so distraught while staring at it he climbed into it and curled up under the covers and started to cry as the blankets still smelled like neil.

how todd spent all night in the bed sobbing his eyes out and holding onto the blankets for dear life, until the morning came and mr nolan came to collect all of neil’s stuff.

don’t imagine how todd fought to stay in the bed and keep neil’s stuff; sobbing and reaching for neil’s belongings as they were carted away like they were nothing but a collection of disappointments.

don’t imagine how todd stole one of neils sweaters without mr. nolan looking, along with one of neils books and kept them for himself.

don’t imagine how when mr nolan had left, and todd was left with nothing but the sweater and book, he curled up on the empty bed, devoid of all blankets, and read.

and how todd had found a poem neil had written, jotted down in messy scrawl on a piece of ripped paper, shoved in between two chapters. and how multiple lines were crossed out and rewritten with the intention of getting it perfect.

And how the poem was addressed to todd,

and how it was a love poem.

don’t imagine it.

Left Munich at 8:35 P. M., on 1st May, arriving at Vienna early next morning; should have arrived at 6:46, but train was an hour late.

Me last year: 6:46 is… very precise, buddy.

Me this year: