beauty entry

I saw Wonder Woman on opening night with my mom and sister, and when Hippolyta sends Diana off on the dock, and tells her that she has been her greatest love, and leaving her is her greatest sorrow… my mom held my hand and gave it a squeeze and honestly??? I was tearing up, because it was such a relatable emotion for us as mother and daughter, at this stage in my life where I’m not a kid anymore. And some movies can’t even manage to pass the Bechdel Test. This is the magic of women making films.

Andrómede, 1886
Rodin

Andrómede. Pronouncing your name has this magic ‘no-sé-qué’, it’s like the tip of my tongue can suddenly make wonders and my lips get together at the middle of the nominal into an eager kiss

“And maybe hope’s a dangerous thing & I’m broken in the end, You don’t divide, you blur the lines,destroy yourself and start again.”

“I guess I never found the right time did I.”

but until you’re broken
you don’t know what you’re made of….

dear future wife,

i want you on your best days so i can witness that intoxicating smile of yours but, i also want you on your worst days so i can comfort you and remind you how amazing you are. how blessed i am to have you in my life. i want your tired smile and your drunken self, so i can kiss away that hangover. i want you on nights you can’t sleep so you can wake me up and tell me what’s on your mind, talk my ear off until the sun rises. i want you when you’re laughing at yourself because that is honestly the most beautiful thing ever. i want all of you, forever and always.

love,
your future wife

—  loveisexpired (“dear future wife” page 144 out of 365)
one
i hate myself in the most daring ways. instead of slashing at my wrists or tying reverse necklaces around my neck i fall in love. i let the girl that breathed so much summer into me take it all away. i tell myself that tomorrow is a new day, and that today is the day in which i don’t need to pray. that god and i are just taking a break. anything religious or holy is somehow paused. i let her take the summer out of my body and replace with winter.
two
this winter isn’t snowfall. this winter is biting cold rain that only freezes once it’s hit the ground. this winter isn’t hot chocolate but hot streaks of saline down my left cheek, and it’s hot chested arguments that get me into trouble. i don’t smell christmas trees but instead i smell sap and broken fiberglass.
three
i can’t die.
i know words like they’ve been imprinted onto my tongue and i know just how they stick to cold corpses  just like tongues to wintery light poles. i know that no matter how much i condemn myself into the earth, no matter how quickly i allow my energy to be reinstated into the universe, my words can’t die. i know that someone can smell something and think of me or read something and think of me, tell a joke and think of me or fall in love and think of me. i know someone is going to find the body.
the idea that someone can find me like that terrifies me.
—  a collective of a suicidal realist
2

I’m still laughing my ass off at Joker’s Unkempt Beauty trope entries because I swear to god I must have ghostwrote this or something

Life n stuffs

Have you ever had your faith in humanity simultaneously shaken to the core and magically restored all at the same time? The hands of someone I thought I could trust wrapped around my neck and tried to choke out the last of my faith, while I felt the wind off the wings of two angels lift me up and help me breathe enough to keep going. Life is bizarre and strange and what I realise is that we are all in it together; for both better and worse - at the same time. Some people rise and stand tall and show you how to be better than what you thought you could be, by showing you which path is the right, kind and true one to walk on. Some people fall right off the path and into the raging sea and they will try anything to grab hold of you and bring you down with them - it doesn’t mean you should let them drown. You should try your upmost to never leave someone in rough waters. You sturdy your footholds, you take the help that kind strangers (angels in disguise) offer - and you pull them up to dry land. Once they are safe, and alive, and you know you’ve done everything you can - what you do is up to you, and how they react is up to them, all you can do is hope they won’t fall so hard next time.

This is a really cryptic prose-ish type personal post, with lots of weird metaphors I realise, but I think it can resonate for any manner of situations. Even in the weirdest and sometimes toughest circumstances there are lessons that can be learned, that need to be learned. I’m just so grateful that fate put me in the path of some amazingly kind humans in the midst of trying to deal with a situation I was not equipped to face alone. And I regret, that in the drama and chaos of it all, I never thought to get their contact details. I will forever be thankful to them. Look around you. Sometimes you see some really messed up stuff in this world, and it can get you down, but if you look closely - I think you’ll find that there is so much more good happening within the souls and hearts of the people around you - the people that are here with you on this weird spinning globe thing. Lol. I hope everyone has the honour of meeting someone kind today! Xx

Entry #3

PERSPECTIVE


It’s 3 am and he’s counting the freckles on her cheek. He wonders what life would be without her and her fast mind. Always thinking about a million things at once. Always creating to never destroy. In her mind, he is a convoy of art. He is now constantly creating because he knows that to create art you must consume it and he is constantly around her. She is awake at 3 am feeling his stare but chooses to keep her eyes closed for the fear of the moment ending. It’s as if she can read what’s going on in his head and it’s never ending. She can read the words he never means to say in between his lips, as they part only to drown his sorrow. His only hope is to see her beautiful face tomorrow. But he could care less about her outer appearance as he counts the freckles on her cheeks and the crevice where her lips end and her mouth meets. It’s as if he’s reading her soul instead and can see through every last bit of her. As she awakens he continues to stare for fear of the moment and having to return back to his own canvass of a mind; but if it were her deciding, that’s the only place she’d ever want to be.

-E.M

kotrenten  asked:

Matt is having a nightmare, a terrible alternate reality where Keith actually committed his sacrifice. It feels so damn real - and devastating. Matt doesn't even realise that's just a vile dream at first, and only Keith's real hands pulling him into a tight embrace can convince him otherwise. Matt quietly sobs on Keith's chest for a while. The cuddling does its comforting magic, however, and Matt finally could drift to sleep, reassured that, in this reality, Keith is alive and not going anywhere

(My heart. Gosh I love your ideas ❤ Here, have some angsty hurt/comfort.)

VLD | Katt / Rebel Fire | ~1k words

WARNINGS: Major Character Death (in a dream). Season 4 episode 6 spoilers.

This is also an entry for hc-bingo

[Read on AO3

“Maybe not with our weapons,” Keith says after a moment of silence, and Matt can feel the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

“Wait, Keith! What are you doing?” Matt demands, because he knows Keith. He knows this brave, self-sacrificing idiot, and he knows he’s about to do something stupid. Or dangerous. Or both. He looks at Keith’s position on the holo-screen, sees that he’s changed directions, and realizes what he’s about to do. He screams. “Keith, NO!”

Keith’s eyes are closed, his brow furrowed as if in pain, and that’s the last Matt sees before the connection ends.

His breath catches in his throat and his heart stops beating for an endless second, his eyes wide and fixed on the video feed of the holo-screen. There’s a buzz in his ears, he can’t think.

The weapon keeps powering up; nothing can take down those shields. And then Keith—

There’s no loud boom, just a small sparkle of light that then grows exponentially, blinding in its intensity. The ship rocks beneath Matt’s feet with the force of the explosion and Matt has to close his eyes as he stumbles backward. Someone catches him, but he can’t see them, can’t recognize them, doesn’t want to.

His cheeks are already wet with tears, but as soon as the ship settles, he’s on his feet and trying to establish contact with Keith’s communicator. It’s down, but he tries again, because he cannot accept that this is it. He cannot accept that after almost two years in space without being able to see him, he has lost Keith before they were even able to meet face to face.

“Keith! Keith, answer me! Keith!”

“Matt?” It’s Pidge, and Matt wants to scream. Her voice is distorted; there seems to be some kind of glitch. “Matt, I can’t contact Keith. I can’t—none of us can, is he okay?” She sounds scared, and Matt’s stomach drops in horror as he realizes that they don’t know. Keith’s team doesn’t know, they—

Matt is the last one Keith spoke to. Matt’s the last one to see him, to hear him. He’s the only one who knows what he’s done, what he decided to do to save them all.

He cannot stop the sobs, not even if he wanted to. They burst through his chest with all the pain that’s suddenly constricting lungs, stabbing at his heart. His limbs are weak and he falls to the floor, like a puppet with its strings cut, and keeps sobbing. Everything is blurry and unreal, so he closes his eyes.

“Matt?!” Pidge’s fear turns to terror, and Matt hates himself for not being able to help her. Hates himself for not being able to stop Keith. Hates the universe for forcing him into this position. “Matt? Please!”

“He’s…” he tries to say, but the words are stuck in his throat. They’re choking him. He’s curled over his folded legs, his forehead on the floor. He can’t do this. He can’t— “He’s gone, Pidge. He’s gone.”

“No. No. NO!” She’s crying now, too, and Matt feels like the worst scum on the universe. “He can’t—KEITH!”

There’s so much pain in her scream that if Matt’s heart wasn’t already broken, it would be doing so right now. Why? Why did this happen? How? What did he do to deserve such punishment?

“Matt,” someone says in a soft voice, gently shaking his shoulder. Matt ignores them, shrugging off their touch and huddling in on himself even more. He’s not crying as loudly as before, but he still can’t stop the sobs. His heart hurts too much. He doesn’t want to be comforted, he doesn’t deserve to be comforted. “Oh, Matt.”

There are arms encircling him now, warm and strong. A hand on his hair guides his face to rest against someone’s chest, and another runs up and down his spine in a soothing gesture. It startles him, but the person shushes him gently and pets his hair, and Matt slowly uncoils. “It’s okay, babe. It’s just a nightmare. I’m here, everything’s fine.” That’s. That’s Keith’s voice. But that’s impossible, Keith has just—

He tenses, adrenaline shooting through his veins as he opens his eyes and pushes the warm body away. He has to check, he needs to be sure—

A new wave of tears pools in his eyes and stains his cheeks. He can’t stop them.

“Shh, shh. It’s okay,” Keith—alive, flushed with sleep, hair rumpled and messy, beautiful Keith—says, pushing Matt’s bangs away and clearing the tears away with his thumbs. “It’s okay,” he says again, voice soft and gentle, and then kisses Matt’s forehead with such tenderness that Matt can’t help but keen.

He crushes Keith to him again in a hug that must be painful, but Keith doesn’t complain. He just keeps soothing him with his hands and his words as Matt cries, this time in relief, until he slowly, slowly calms down.

“You died,” Matt whispers. His voice is raw. Keith tenses in his arms, then relaxes.

“I’m here. I didn’t go anywhere. I’m not planning to go anywhere. I swear.”

Matt doesn’t answer, but buries his head in between Keith’s shoulder and neck. They are quiet for a few moment in which Matt revels in Keith’s warmth, in the rhythmic thumping of his heart that, with every beat, reminds him that he’s alive.

“I love you,” he says an indefinite amount of time later, breaking the cloak of tranquility that had fallen over them both. It’s the first time he’s said it, and it probably isn’t the best time, but it rings true.

Keith’s hands stop moving, and then he squeezes, once. He doesn’t say it back, but that’s okay. Matt knows how he feels anyway, and will be glad to wait for him to be ready. Keith’s not going anywhere. He can wait.