Let the Fall Make You Stronger. by UntamedUnwanted, literature
Literature
Let the Fall Make You Stronger.
"Hey! Are you all right?"
"Sure, why wouldn't I be?"
"Um...because you just fell from the roof of the hou-"
"See, that's where you're wrong. I didn't fall. The floor challenged me and I accepted."
"And how did that go for you?"
"The floor won. But only because it had the advantage."
"Of being non sentient and vast in size, along with the fact that there is a freaking storm out!!"
"Nope. I just attacked from the wrong position."
"Backwards?"
"I overestimated my skills."
"I'll say. You're bleeding!"
"Only a little. Ask me again."
"What?"
"If I'm fine."
"Are you?"
"Nope."
"Is it because you're bleeding?"
"You're supposed to ask
I love the way life leaves its mark on our bodies.
Every laugh and smile etched in the crinkles around your eyes and mouth;
Those tan-lines the time you forgot about sunscreen
Because you were so hell-bent on reaching that mountain peak
Or when you just became lost in the gentle lap of waves at the shore;
The scars you got skateboarding in the park at summer dusk
Or when life became pain and it was your only release.
Our bodies are a record of our memories and experiences
They are our travel journals and emotional diaries
Our delicate armour to the elements.
And no matter its colour, its stature, if it's not quite intact
If you sometimes t
Staring blankly at a white sheet of paper
Can truly be an artist’s worst nightmare
An artist’s duty as its shaper
Their thoughts up in the clouds somewhere
Looking for bits of inspiration
Their eyes searching the skies
Nothing can break their concentration
Nothing can blow out the passion in their eyes
Being an artist does not always mean you are skilled
You do not need to be Picasso or Bach
It means you want to see your dream fulfilled
And that you will never give in to an art block
I will never be accepted by my peers
Because it’s a lie to say that
It is my right to be an original person
My flaws do not define me
Is a lie
I am not beautiful
I am not perfect
Because I refuse to believe that
I am worth it
I have no power over my destiny
And I am lying when I say that
I believe in myself
Because of my skin, hair, and tastes
I should be an outcast
And I refuse to believe
Someone can understand me
If they just listen to me
My size matters
And no one can convince me that
I am pretty without makeup, fashionable clothing, or attention
And we will never love ourselves if we believe that these stereotypes define us
Cupcakes and Tea
9-01-14
“Oh dear, what's the matter,”
said the Hare to the Hatter
while the Doormouse soundlessly snored.
“What just can't compare,”
said Hatter to Hare,
“is the fact that I'm hungry and bored.”
“Twinkle, twinkle,” was heard
as the sleepy Mouse stirred,
“We're British, by jove, we like tea!”
So the Hare plated up
while Hatter poured cups
and they both had a cupcake or three.
Spring Cleaning - Levi x Reader - Short Fluff by cherrypikkins, literature
Literature
Spring Cleaning - Levi x Reader - Short Fluff
[Author's Notes]: A rather short, light-hearted, mildly fluffy piece depicting a rather ordinary, everyday interaction between the demanding Lance Corporal and an incredibly tolerant and patient Cadet. The ending is a little humorous and unexpected, especially considering how Levi is normally portrayed in both canon and fanfiction. Hope you enjoy.
Warnings for language.
...
--- Spring Cleaning --
For the dutiful and self-sacrificing soldiers of the Recon Corps, peaceful days were far and few in between. Precious moments like these were far too rare to waste lazing about doing nothing. As such, Lance Corporal Levi took it upon himself
“Let’s play a game,” Death said to me.
“And whoever wins the first ten rounds will get a second life for free.
The rules are simple, so listen to me.
You must first be born a he or she
With traits categorized, one to three;
The rest will come later, you will see.
You will begin off with guidance and support partially.
Loneliness will come upon you when you are not healthy mentally,
But you will be the key to unlock an antidote to your own disease…possibly.
The trick to the game, though, is to live fully and responsibly without a visit from me.
Live 100 years the way you want, and I’ll gladly give another l
She texted me to ask for milk,
A query so surreal,
For she was of the hungry ilk
Who craved for cereal.
Alas, I had no milk but soy,
Which she was wary to deploy
Within her bowl,
Within her bowl,
Her face showed she did not taste joy.
Oh Special K! 'Twas not the day
She meant for you to swim
With Mister Two-Percent, and play
Your tasty games with him.
The box was done, your final breath
Could only end in runny death.
No creaminess,
No creaminess,
A soggy grave was all she left.
All times, both good and bad, must end
In peacefulness or pain.
One moment, by your side a friend,
The next, gone and estranged.
While we still live, let's take cont