#queueme

Francesca Lia Block, The Rose and the Beast: Fairy Tales Retold

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked //  Tyger Tyger, burning bright // I have done it again. //  Do not go gentle into that good night. // The sea is calm to-night. // Let us go then, you and I,  //  April is the cruelest month,  // Pretty women wonder where my secret lies. // There is a place where the sidewalk ends // I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart) // Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, //  Whose woods these are I think I know  // Let us twain walk aside from the rest; // Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,  // I taught myself to live simply and wisely // It so happens I am sick of being a man  //  I wandered lonely as a cloud //  Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun?  // O my Luve is like a red, red rose  //  O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;  //  Out of the night that covers me,  // It was many and many a year ago, // You may write me down in history // Do not stand at my grave and weep  // Some say the world will end in fire // Some say in ice. // Hope is the thing with feathers // The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees, //  No man is an island,  // Remember me when I am gone away,  //  I met a traveller from an antique land //  ‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves //  This is thy hour O Soul,  //  When we wear the mask that grins and lies,  //  Death be not proud,  // And death shall have no dominion.  //  Laugh, and the world laughs with you; // The art of losing isn’t hard to master; // To see a World in a Grain of Sand // Is there anybody there? said the Traveller  // Nobody heard him, the dead man,  //  That crazed girl improving her music.  // Come to me in the silence of the night; // Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high //  When you are old and grey and full of sleep, //  In Flanders’ fields the poppies blow  // I thought of you and how you love this beauty // Life, believe, is not a dream // It may be misery not to sing at all,  // If tarry space no limit knows  // Come live with me and be my love,  //  Had we but world enough and time,  //  My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense //  Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art-  //  Thou still unravish’d bride of quietness  // How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. // Heaven is what I cannot reach! // My dear, my dear, I know  // In visions of the dark night // Shall I compare thee to a summers day? // Break, break, break  // She walks in beauty, // I had a dream, which was not all a dream. // He clasps the crag with crooked hands.

tagging: @gentlegiantingvar @lokigodof @stillwciting @amongthcwreck + anyone else this intrigues. Tag me if you do it so I can see what you chose.

Leaves crunched beneath boots behind her and suddenly Freya wasn’t alone anymore. She knew who it was before he came to sit next to her. His scent quickly becoming as familiar to her as her own. Bellamy. She noticed a wet stain on the rock below her and realized she had been crying. Freya sniffled and wiped the tears from her eyes. She felt the weight of his arm reach across the length of her shoulders. She smiled a little. The gesture was a comforting one. “I’m afraid you’ve found me at my weakest.” Freya stated. Drying the last of the tears from her eyes. “I’m not normally this pathetic.”

An au like The Thing where my muse is trapped inside a station in a desolete place. The other muse or muses are trapped as well. Along with an alien creature that quietly begins assimilating their bodies into its own. It can look like anyone at any given time. Who is the alien and who is still alive? Will we find out before they all die?

the dark ⋆ fire ⋆ open water ⋆ deep water ⋆ being alone ⋆ crowded spaces ⋆ confined spaces ⋆ change ⋆ failure ⋆ war ⋆ loss of control ⋆ powerlessness ⋆ prison ⋆ blood ⋆ drowning ⋆ suffocation ⋆ public speaking ⋆ natural animals ⋆ the supernatural ⋆ heights ⋆death ⋆ dying ⋆ intimacy ⋆ rejection ⋆ abandonment ⋆ loss ⋆ the unknown ⋆ the future ⋆not being good enough ⋆ scary stories ⋆ speaking to new people ⋆ poverty⋆ loud noises ⋆ being touched

I hate when you're trying to argue with your dad about a social/political/opinion and it gets to the point where you have to throw out them statistics and your dad is still like, "No. See, you don't know anything about the world."

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