completebullshit
boo.
Violet. Eternally 17 and stuck in the same place 364 days of the year. Sucks. Beginning to consider homicide for a cigarette. Word of advice? Try not to die.
// violet harmon blog (under construction). indie & selective
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looking to revive this blog; seeking partners to write with, primarily fellow murder house and apocalypse individuals! don’t be shy, i don’t bite (but vi may)
#american horror story role play#ahs rp#indie rp#tate langdon#vivien harmon#ben harmon#michael langdon#hmu on messenger or smtg#i know i need to make one of those promo banners#but i need to reinstall ps onto my new laptop for that sooo#ahs
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who’s that?
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Jesus, I
All the fucking time. But it's not. It's not.
Sometimes I wonder.
Do you ever think about how it would be like, Vi?
If none of this had ever happened and I wasn’t who I was and you weren’t who you were and you hadn’t and I hadn’t and…
Don’t you ever wonder?
I wonder, all the time.
I think that’s what makes me leave you alone.
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♫ chamberlin band • pumped up kicks (cover)
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. . .
I'll never have kids.
Nicked some of the neighbors' flowers for my mom. Happy Mother's Day, I guess.
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It's not stupid.
Yeah. I know.
I wish I could tell her that I missed her. Is that stupid? Probably.
Fucking whatever, it’s not like I care.
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notes to no one important
You said you'd never let anyone hurt me. Bet you didn't think it would be you, huh?
You're so full of shit.
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imagine;
Violet goes a little crazy while he's gone.
She shifts the blade over and over between her fingertips, stuck staring at the gleam of the florescent lights reflecting off the silver. Five minutes later, she presses it into her wrist, over the delicate blue vein.
Her eyes fly upward by chance, and stare back at his in the mirror.
"Vi?"
Tate's are swimming with tears. Her name is soft on his mouth, his fingers curling and uncurling at his side, and she feels compelled to drop the razor - but it hurts, it really hurts, and this is how she deals.
He takes a tentative step forward, pleading with her. "Vi, baby, no."
Violet closes her eyes, squeezes them, and when they open, he's gone.
He was never there to begin with.
She sets the razor down.
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you’re all humming live wires underneath your killing clothes. c’mon over here, i wanna kiss your skinny throat. you’re a wasp nest, you’re a wasp nest.
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Under Your Spell — Desire
I don't eat, I don't sleep
I do nothing but think of you
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