crimewave

the gods envy us. they envy us because we’re mortal, because any moment may be our last. everything is more beautiful because we’re doomed. you will never be lovelier than you are now. we will never be here again. gia zhang

[rcvolutin]

weapvn​:

sometimes amara wonders what her life could have been like. if maybe she didn’t wake up with light coming out of her hands. granted it was even more of a surprise when she seemed to blast a hole through the ceiling of her shared room with the full moon shining through her, illuminating her. if that didn’t happen, where would she be now? certainly not with william crain and this mission. not with these strange people. and while amara wants to know them — she can’t help but be a bit nervous. what if they think she’s just some strange and weird girl? what if the guards at the center were right all along? “ oh wow. i haven’t had cheetos since i was twelve. but umm, are you sure? i don’t mind doritos either. ” honestly, she didn’t even realize it was doritos. she just grabbed the first bag she saw.

"yeah, feel free to eat the cheetos. nobody should have to eat doritos when there are better opinions available. i can just order a pizza later if i get hungry,” she shrugged. the question of why she continued to pay for everything and lived her life like a regular human had crossed her mind before. being able to turn invisible could prove to be useful, but it was a truth gia preferred to ignore. her so called gift felt more like fate playing a cruel joke on her, but she would entertain theories about its use for william’s sake. more so for her cut of the money, but she decided amara was likeable enough. someone who ate doritos needed a helping hand. “so have you met anyone else yet? i’m curious about the people william recruited,” she asked lazily, her focus switching between the door and amara. 

[rcvolutin]

weapvn​:

well, from the sewers to this weird abandoned department store. at least the smell is a bit more than just trash and wet dog. at least she’s out in the light again? always looking for a brighter side of things. though, let’s face it, amara still has no clue what exactly she’s suppose to be doing. she knows what they’re doing with robbing the rich with just enough so they can get by — least that’s what william told her — but her exact part in this? completely unclear. it’s probably why she’s sitting on the floor with a bag of chips. “ do these smell weird to you? ”

Finding out she was a mutant had been a shock for Gia, especially since she found out while trying to sneak out of a blind date gone wrong. The years following that night she had done her best to ignore what she was - it wasn’t like she had any use for such ability. Till she ran into one William Crain. Nonetheless, she believed in his mission and welcomed the change in scenario from Philly. “I mean you are eating Doritos,” she asked tilting her head to read the bag. “Here, I’ll swap with you,” she offered her bag of Cheetos, not particularly hungry. Primarily, she was curious on who her new teammates were. Maybe she would run into an old friend. Stranger things had happened before. 

[msgolightly]

natasha liu bordizzo for elle men china, march 2018

[megairea]

She talks with wolves, without knowing what sort of beasts they are:

Where have you been all my life? they ask. Where have I been all my life? she replies.

– Margaret Atwood, Let us Praise Stupid Women; Good Bones and Simple Murders, 1994.

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

For a moment she smiled at me; I thought I saw the ruins covered with wild violets.

Nikos Kazantzakis, tr. by Richard Howard, from “The Rock Garden,” (via violentwavesofemotion)

[stars-bean]

Batman Returns (1992) dir. Tim Burton

[tarmairons]

Why are you doing this?

[quotemadness]

A bird is safe in its nest - but that is not what its wings are made for.

Amit Ray (via quotemadness)

[quotemadness]

She was free in her wildness. She was a wanderess, a drop of free water. She belonged to no man and to no city.

Roman Payne (via quotemadness)

[lifeinpoetry]

the moon is queen of everything. she rules the oceans, rivers, rain. when I am asked whose tears these are I always blame the moon.

— Lucille Clifton, from “moonchild,” Blessing the Boats: New and Selected Poems, 1988-2000