hekaates

[hekaates]

what is love but a joint religion? Isn’t that what we do to each other? Love and sanctify one another?

I love you and thank you!!

DEAR LUI (again) (...again) (@hekaates) —

i went to the beach today, and i thought of you. the water looked like glass, the sun melted in the sky, giant jellyfish and baby horseshoe crabs littered the beach, washed up from low tide, and i thought of you. how lucky am i to never just see the ocean for an ocean anymore—i'll always see it for you.

see, now that's gay as fuck. no wonder the twink in 2100 (assuming the earth is still inhabitable for twinks, or anyone) who finds all these letters is going to have a field day with us.

but it is so wonderful to have had all of these mundane things that i have seen over and over again be transformed having known you. an ocean isn't just an ocean anymore, nor is the moon just the moon. st sebastian and st anthony are no longer just some guys, they're our guys. one of whom is currently in your freezer. where he belongs, obviously.

when i talk to you about religion, it makes me want to be catholic again, which is a very, very dangerous thing. i cannot afford to be catholic again. have you seen the state of the world? we dont need another catholic right now. but you make me want to hold onto a belief, onto a religion full of beauty and tragedy because it feels meaningful and purposeful and maybe—maybe if we both tried to believe again, it would be one more thing to bring us closer, despite this nuisance of a continent between us.

maybe we can find something that isn't catholicism. i'll start researching, but you let me know if you think of anything better in the meantime. i just want to share a religion with you. maybe we can make our own.

i love you. i love your creativity, your endless ideas, your even more endless voicenotes. i love that you're always getting into messes (not by choice, i'm sorry that you're god's favorite princess), and more importantly, i love that you can always dust yourself off and pull yourself out of them. i know it sucks in the moment, that being in your 20s is scary, but every single voicenote or insane update you send me is proof that you're living—like actually, truly living—and i couldn't be prouder of you. the world is ending. so don't stop living.

i said this last year, but i am truly so grateful that we are the same age... almost. i am older, after all. but it's so special to go through everything with you, to be scared of our 20s together, to experience the soulcrushing realizations that come with late stage capitalism together, to be young and make stupid fucking mistakes together. that nuisance of a continent couldn't stop us from meeting, so that obviously means something. we're supposed to be growing up like this, together.

happy birthday, lui.

with love,

emma

[hekaates]

latin american vampire that stays forever in public college taking night classes and nobody ever suspects them from being one because yeah that sounds legit

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We ask your questions anonymously so you don’t have to! Submissions are open on the 1st and 15th of the month.

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DONNA RAINES ft. Rebecca Ross, Ruthless Vows

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Easy for you to say Harder for me to take

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LEMONADE MOUTH (2011)

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THE SECRET GARDEN (1993)

dir. agnieszka holland

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Can we tho?!

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sword bf 💜⚔️

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"It's always so funny to me when people complain," she says. "They're like, 'All she does is sing about this. But those are the songs that you've made popular. Clearly you love sex. You're obsessed with it. It's in my show. There's so many more moments than the 'Juno' positions, but those are the ones you post every night and comment on. I can't control that. If you come to the show, you'll [also] hear the ballads, you'll hear the more introspective numbers. I find irony and humor in all of that, because it seems to be a recurring theme. I'm not upset about it, other than I feel mad pressure to be funny sometimes." [x]

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Protect your friends.  Protect each other.

[hekaates]

open letter to ems (part iv) — @officialjimmybuffett

Dear Emma, this is the first letter I write fearful that I might not finish in time. 

I hate capitalism and I hate how being an adult leaves you with less time to create. I wish I could do a leg press and write to you at the same time. If I die with 130 pounds falling on me because I got distracted while declaring my love for you while doing weighted squats, that would be a very well-declared death. Happy birthday. We can finally drink, huh?

It’s common sense that I love you very much. It’s also common sense that when we both die (not anytime soon, of course), a twink will find our posts and declare us lovers (spoiler alert, twink from 2100! I’m sure everyone on Tumblr.com knows this).

I often wonder if I would know the same people if I had been born fifty, a hundred, a thousand years ago. I hope we would still be pen pals if we were two monks in 700. Maybe you would have been a Sebastianist and I was a Benedictine, maybe we were both Sebastianists. Maybe we were hung on the same cross (what a normal thought to have!) 

The first three times I wrote these (we've known each other for a long, long time), I thought I should write an inexplicable poem that would prove to you and anyone else who might read this (the twink from 2100, of course) that I love you very much! And I am able to write competent sentences without spelling mistakes (I am not). As if the only way to declare my love and feelings to you was by correctly conjugating a verb (something you know very well I cannot do... even with autocorrect).

God. I hate modern day politics. I hate washing dishes. I don’t hate my job. But I love you. I’ve said this multiples times in this very letter already but I want to make sure you know. I wanted to be ingrained in our beings, the love we have for each other. (Kinda of a gay sentence huh). 

Last letter I wrote I said it was written with purple glitter ink and lots of love. I will not lie to you. This letter was written in an old notepad with coffee stains and an old ballpen. Maybe scholars will use this as a parallel of youth and adulthood, the psychological effects of employment in latter day capitalism. Maybe I think too highly of what I write. 

Anyways what I want to say to you is:  It’d be my greatest honor to make you coffee, Emma. To write to you in old notepads with a shitty pen that you have to make circles on paper several times for the ink to start to fall again. Maybe that’s what love is, besides the pretty words and sentiments. I love you. I made coffee. I’ll buy us a new pen. (You can wash the dishes though, I’ll leave that joy just for you). I had few muses in my life. You are the only one who hasn’t made me cry. 

God. I feel like this sucks, like it’s too self centred and angsty and I’m still talking about myself again…if I were to say that to think of me I have to think a bit about you too; would you forgive me? If not, I could send you a new letter when you are 21 and half! A prime age…for…something.

I love you, Emma. The world is ending and I love you. I have known you for five years and it never seems to amaze me how I could have found a sister, a companion and a confidant just because I went on tumblr.com on day and said "Shit maybe I should send this girl a message" You are the best surprise my life has given me. And I do believe wholeheartedly that we must have met in another life. You are proof enough for me to believe in a God.

I am in constant awe of everything you do. Everything you will become. I hope to be in awe for the rest of my life.

Written with some typos, and very tired eyes. I bought ice cream, it's on the fridge (I ate half of it, sorry),

To know you is to love you. Happy Birthday,

Lui.

ps. next life we meet please be born in a less academically driven time...maybe november?

[hekaates]

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MILLY ALCOCK as RHAENYRA TARGARYEN House of the Dragon ⬖ 1.04 requested by anonymous

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"Nice job, sweetheart." "Thank you." Nice dress, too... Not yours."

HAYMITCH ABERNATHY + EFFIE TRINKET: THE HUNGER GAMES (2012)

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Cry For Blood