moonlite

i’m happy to finally have this scorpio races print by maggie-stiefvater smiling down at me from my bedroom wall. it is not yet known if it will give me nightmares about homicidal horses, although that is inconsequential.

we drank vodka and listened to music and i taught him how to do a proper cart wheel last night on a moonlit beach and it was so much fun but he’s straight and i dont pine after straight boys so i guess i gotta kill him

lost and found {fallenangel!michael}

I don’t know how I feel about this honestly, it was a random idea that I had scribbled down into a notebook a few days ago, and I decided to see it through. This is quite short, tbh.

If someone could draw angel!michael with his wings for me, that would be gladly appreciated.

“Was it worth it? Falling for me?”

Michael was sitting on the balcony, bare back facing you as he stared up at the moonlit skyline. You could see the thinly-veiled sadness in his green eyes, watching him as he stared at the place his brother and sisters were. You knew he missed it, being up with his family in his home.

Your eyes traced over the marks on his skin -  the two thick parallel scars that ran from the bottom of his shoulder blades to the small of his back and the freckles that sprinkled over his shoulders, representing the feathers that downed his former wings. His plump pink lips parted as he thought over his answer, not looking at you as he nodded once.

“Of course it was.” his eyes were trained on the starts above, a sad smile gracing his features. “I still miss having wings, I wish they hadn’t gotten taken away from me.”

“What did they look like?” you were standing behind him now, chin resting on his shoulder. Gently, you let your fingertips run over the length of one of his scars, watching as Michael’s eyes fluttered closed.

“They were beautiful, honestly. Having them was the best thing about being an angel.” The words were quiet as they slipped from his lips. His Adam’s Apple bobbed as he swallowed around the lump in his throat, sighing. “They were as gold as the sun, so big that they dragged behind me whenever I walked. The tips of the feathers are what I admired the most. They were a dark brown, almost black.

It was unlike anything had ever seen before. Angel’s wings were supposed to be a bright, innocent, and happy color, not some brooding and mysterious color. Everyone teased me about it for the longest, saying that it represented what my soul actually looked like; tainted. My mother thought they were unique, said that it was amazing that I wasn’t like the snobby, all-righteous assholes that lived in Heaven.

They all thought they were proven right when my wings were burned off in front of everyone.”

“Your soul is the most beautiful thing to ever exist, Michael.” you kissed his cheek, pulling your hand through his hair as you praised him. “You are an angel, my angel. With or without your wings.”

“You’re my wings, Y/N.” he murmured. “I thought I had lost them, but actually they just changed into the person I love the most. You.”

LLC Week 4: Favourite Headcanon/AU: Navrina

Eight can travel anywhere in the world so he takes Marina to Singapore

They spend the day just talking and laughing and simply being Navrina

At the end of the day, they take a moonlit stroll next to the water and Eight’s acting all giggly and excited like an idiot

After a while of this, Marina asks him what’s going on. Eight can barely contain himself as he explains, “I’ve taken you to Marina Bay, because Marina, you are bae”

And then they kiss and get married or something idk, but Eight doesn’t die! The end!

The Titanic

by June Robertson Beisch

So this is how it feels, the deck tilting,
the world slipping away as one
sitting at a desk writes a check.

The Titanic went down titanically
like a goddess glittering,
Pinioned to an iceberg, she sank

almost thankfully while tiny mortals
leapt into the sea
and the band played Nearer My God to Thee.

But what happened to the signals of distress?
Nobody believed it was all really happening.
I still can’t believe that it happened to me.

As a child, I stared horrified at the photograph
and the vision of that scene in the moonlit sea.
We will be one of the survivors, we think,
then something looms up like catastrophe.

All life, it seems, is the morning after
and love is the most beautiful of absolute disasters.

“The Northern Lights and stars from the Milky Way light up the sky above a moonlit lenticular cloud and Vatnajokull Glacier near Skaftafell National Park, Iceland during a solo backpacking trip in March 2012,” writes photographer Caillum Smith.

js