"I see it," Gideon said in a low voice. "I am not blind, and we are a people of many scars. I see it, but it is not ugly. It is just another beautiful part of the most beautiful girl I have ever seen."
I’m rereading some old Trojan fics and honestly what keeps hitting me is that a lot of folks predicted Jean would be all mysterious and avoid the whole team but instead he’s like their little buddy who follows them around and casually drops his trauma into regular conversation
neil’s insistence on hiding his scars for as long as possible bc he knows it’s not normal and the foxes Will stare and ask questions vs jean just stripping in front of the trojans bc he expects his teammates to ignore his abuse since it isn’t their business... neil flinching from wymack's loud voice bc he doesnt trust men old enough to be his father vs jean holding his racquet out for rhemann to hit him after "failing" to do what he said he would do because he expects to be beaten to a pulp by his superiors and because "contrition, coach"... it makes me sick!!! i need to wrap them up in a warm blanket forever
“You are like a living rose among wax flowers. We may last forever, but you bloom brighter and smell sweeter, and draw blood with your thorns.” ― margaret rogerson, an enchantment of ravens
@lgbtqcreators creator challenge: literature, media from asia, gradient, magenta
he loves her. of this he’s certain. he loves her laugh; that sharp, sudden sound; the cynical laugh that always comes too quick, like it’s ripped out of her. he loves her quick, confident grin. he loves her resilience, her bravery, even her impulsiveness. she’s everything he’s not: unbound, reckless, free. he’s never known anyone like her. she terrifies him, and he loves her so much it hurts.
"They don’t tell you this part in the storybooks. They go on and on about true love, even though no one can explain what it is. They don’t tell you where your hands go when Prince Charming just wants to fool around. They don’t tell you that his red, wet, wanting mouth is the ruby fruit, nor whether it’s poison or bliss—or both." ― gina chen, violet made of thorns
they watch us kneel, they see the back of our heads, and they think we've given in. they don't realize you can think from your knees just as well as from your feet.
“A philosopher once asked, "Are we human because we gaze at the stars, or do we gaze at them because we are human?" Pointless, really…"Do the stars gaze back?" Now, that's a question.”
in the quiet he could hear jeremy breathing, and it was almost as comforting as the heat of another body this close to his. it thawed the parts of him the sun hadn't reached despite soaking up its glare all day.
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