looks like a cinnamon roll and is actually a cinnamon roll: lucretia
looks like they could kill you and would actually kill you: cygnus
the sinnamon roll: walburga
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is anyone else as nervous as I am?
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when it’s 30 minutes to the deadline and your brain suddenly bursts with things to add to the character description
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fairytales // a moodboard for lucretia black
“Everyone thinks of them in terms of poisoned apples and glass coffins, and forgets that they represent girls who walked into dark forests and remade them into their own reflections.”
-Seanan McGuire, Indexing
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Ballet represented hard beauty, ungenerous towards human flaws or quirks. It was a tyranny of perfection.
Irina Dumitrescu, excerpt of Swan, Late (via icelandlesbian)
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Little Wilderness- PNW
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Tale of a Flower that Blooms in Winter. Ugne photographed by Kiyoe Ozawa for Spur Magazine.
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Here is my secret. It is very simple:
It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.
Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince
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Poetry is where I unearthed remains of myself that you never
bothered looking for.
Derick Ebert, from Black Boy Archeologist; “Archeologist,” (via writemeanna)
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german forests are cool
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do you like you? || a Lucretia Black playlist (listen)
i.try||Colbie Caillat||this is what you want, to belong, so they like you ii.flaws||Bastille||there’s a hole in my soul, can you fill it? iii.brave||Sara Bareilles||innocence, your history of silence won’t do you any good iv.i want to hold your hand||T.V. Carpio||and please, say to me, you’ll let me hold your hand v.wait||M83||set your dreams where nobody hides vi.nothing more||The Alternate Routes ft. Lily Costner||we are how we treat each other and nothing more vii.always with me||Youmi Kimura||i've found a brightness, it’s always with me viii.breakaway||Kelly Clarkson||when i tried to speak out, felt like no one could hear me ix.various storms and saints||Florence and the Machine||i am teaching myself how to be free x.pas de trois||Tchaikovsky xi.i don’t know my name||Grace Vanderwaal||i am lost . . . trying to get found
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