'you can always find me in the drift'

Finding Balance [Part One]

Author: smutandahalf

Characters: Reader x Stiles

Rating: NSFW 18+ EXPLICIT SMUT

Word Count: 1,684

**Hello my lovelies! Here is the real beginning of the story, the prequel isn’t necessary but if you’d like to read it you can find it here **

Originally posted by writingissatansworstnightmare


I focus on the loud music blasting from my headphones as my feet pound against the dirt trail. I don’t know how long I’ve been running for, I didn’t really have a distance in mind when I set out, I just needed to get out and find a release for the intense agitation that’s been swirling inside of me all day.

           My thoughts get away from me and start to drift to him and I grit my teeth. He’s always there, every time I turn around. Smirking at me like he knows something, like he can see right through me. I clench my fists and run a little harder. As if that wasn’t unnerving enough his constant flirting and touches don’t make it any better. Even though I refuse to acknowledge him, a shiver goes through me every time his hand brushes against me- intentionally or not. It’s like there’s something inside of me calling to him, something I’ve been trying so hard to keep buried within me.

           I slow down, changing my pace to a slow jog as I turn my music down to slightly so that I can hear my breathing over it. I try to focus on my breathing, at evening out the pants of air that are shoving its way out of my airways. There’s a crack behind me followed by the snapping sound of a few branches breaking and I feel my heart spasm in panic as I pick up my pace again, not even daring to look back. I let my ear buds drop out of my ears so that I can hear whatever is coming up behind me and I try to remain calm when I realize it sounds like it’s gaining on me.

           I begin sprinting, silently berating myself for going so far out into the woods in a town that I know has an absurd amount of vicious supernaturals drawn to it constantly. An arm snakes around my waist and I shriek as I lose my balance; sending both my pursuer and I stumbling down the hill through the dead leaves and dirt. I land on my back, the force knocking the wind out of me and I lay there gasping for breath.

           “Where are you running off to so fast, kitten?”

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I couldn’t find this on tumblr so I uploaded it again.

This is such an important message. I was lucky enough to go an brilliant private school for Sixth Form and it made me appreciate my education so much more because I wanted to make my parents and myself proud.

My secondary school gave me my GCSEs but destroyed my passion for anything and taught me I was worthless. My Sixth Form taught me that I mean something and that I can achieve something, and that’s why I will always be grateful. Without them, I would now be drifting, not studying something I love every single day.

Regardless of what school you attend, whether a state school or an independent school, find a teacher who will always encourage and support you. My first wonderful teacher was my deputy head who told me to leave my secondary school and find something I loved - she saw how miserable I was. It makes school so much easier.

(Also, I adore Emma Watson)

anonymous asked:

I've felt pulled to polytheism, more specifically HP, since I was 16 and I'm 18 now. I started doing it for the first time last summer then drifted away. I then got into it the second time in the winter. I stopped worshiping one day cause I didn't think I could live keeping my practice a secret. And some people can live like that but I don't think I can. But despite it, I always find myself drifting back to them. I miss their presence in my life and deep down I want it back. Idk what do I do?

i think the key is to start small. start with the basics like devotional activities where you think about the gods and dedicate something to them. for me, when i go voting i treat that as a devotional activity to Athena and Zeus just as an example. you can treat literally any commute as a chance to think about Hermes. say soft prayers in your head during meals thanking the gods, i always thank Dionysos, when i’m out in a public place i’ll thank Apollon and Dionysos both. if you have the ability, find a little craft fair, street festival, or even a farmer’s market and dedicate that experience to Hermes. 

if you can, light a simple jar candle that has a floral or woodsy scent and treat it as your hearth fire. make a small batch of khernips by mixing salt into water and extinguishing a match into it, sprinkle some on the outside of the candle and tell the gods that this is the hearth of your altar and that its use is dedicate to them. any candles i dedicate to the theoi are only lit when i’m praying. i don’t light them just for mood lighting or just for fun, bc to me that can take away from the primary purpose of the candle. 

if you’re inclined you can write poetry or prayers. read the myths, read academic books about them and treat it as devotional. 

i have found great success when i treat my life and my religion as being the same thing. everywhere i look i can find the gods, i am never separate from their influence or their presence.

this mindset helps if you’re in circumstances where your home life limits your ability to create and maintain a visible altar or to keep shrines. 

i think the best advice i can give is to be open. invite the gods into your life in everything you do and make sure you are genuinely doing your best to worship them with the respect and piety they deserve as gods. 

i hope some of this helped. if anyone else has some advice for anon or wants to talk about their own practice that would be lovely :3

A Walking Paradox

Parent!Snowbaz oneshot! For my other Natasha Snow-Pitch fics, you can find them in my fic list!


SIMON

Baz is always a world of contradictions underneath my fingertips.

He’s sitting in the oversized purple chair by the window, a violin singing in his hands and our daughter balanced on his knee. Natasha is only three, but she stays quiet when Baz plays, listening to the song drifting out from the strings and into the sunshine streaming through the flat. She sometimes closes her eyes.

Letting it lull her like it lulls me.

He sits there, draped like an insolent king who rules everything and knows his superiority as well as he knows his own name. Yet, he has a tiny girl with stardust in her soul balanced on his knee like she’s the most precious thing in the entire galaxy.

He plays like a professional violinist, but he’s wearing the rainbow sweater I knitted him for our third anniversary. Natasha reaches up, brushing her fingers against the bit of his wrist peeking out from under the loose cuff.

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I have always been the kind of girl to drift off to another world too easily. Reading, watching movies, playing those cute little dressing games you can find on the internet or just imagining. Nothing to grab. Anything to just escape reality. I don’t exactly know why I wanted to escape. Maybe it was the fact that I felt uncomfortable with myself. The way I was, or more presice the way I looked, always was a big problem for me. So I would just pretend to be someone else, someone prettier, someone wildly and deeply loved. Someone better, simply. I was a princess when I was younger, with the start of puberty I was the popular kid, now just the girl to find her love. But of course, always beautiful, adorable and in some way individual or special. All things that I didn’t have. That I haven’t been. I knew I had to focus on real life. But it always was a relief to sit at home and watch a movie or read a book, or to lay in bed, close my eyes and just for some hours drift off to another world. Pretend to be a lovely character in a story. In those hours I had everything I wanted, everything I didn’t have in real life. Not material things. Things like beauty, and love. I loved it. I lost my heartaches. Even more bitter were them when the hours of dreaming or pretending were over. Reality just hit me too hard. And I wished for things I couldn’t have.
Still I do have problems with reality. Still I just want to live in fictional stories. My life still makes me unhappy so often, although I do have the important things. I do have a house and enough money to live, I don’t have any illness and I experience the love of family and friends. It’s just the things I always dreamt of that are missing. I dont find any beauty in myself. And I, the hell, can’t find the love of a man. Call me a hopeless dreamer. I know that is probably overrated but I grew up with the old Disney movies. And the princesses always got the love of a man and they were so beautiful and adorable. I know that my life is not a fairytale, but can’t I wish for it? Can’t I dream of it? Or will it get me all fucked up, always realising my life never will be a fairytale?
Well, I don’t know what to do with my life. Neither do I know what will happen. Tomorrow, next week or in 5 years. But I don’t wanna wait for the one good thing to happen. I hope for it to happen, yes. But this is a lesson I gotta learn: that I live my life without waiting. I do have to enjoy every moment or at least make the best of it. I dont wanna miss all the other good things because I’m waiting for the ‘one’ thing. That’s so typical again, but live your life. Get up and do something instead of sitting there and just waiting. Dreaming is ok. But don’t miss your life that might be better than you think if you just make the best of it.
That’s for me, and for you. For all the dreamers out there. I think we all have to learn this.
—  excerpt from a book I’ll never write
Pacific Rim 2

John Boyega: You were there when my father died. Was there anything he said before the end?

Mako Mori: He said “you can always find me in the Drift.”

John Boyega: *sniffles* God, that’s so…

Mako Mori: I can find him. Me. He was talking to me.

word of the day: Detachment, n.
I still don`t know if this is a good quality or a bad one, to be able to be in the moment and then step out of it. Not just during sex, or while talking, or kissing. I don`t deliberately pull away – I don`t think I do – but I find myself suddenly there on the outside, unable to lose myself in where I am. You catch me sometimes. You will say I am drifting off, and I will apologize, trying to snap back the present.
But I should say this:
Even when I detach, I care. You can be separate from a thing and still care about it. If I wanted to detach completely, I would move my body away. I would stop the conversation mid-sentence. I would leave the bed. Instead, I hover over it for a second. I glance off in another direction. But I always glance back at you.
—  David Levithan, The Lover’s Dictionary
hi everybody!

It’s been a long time coming and I can’t believe I finally did it – I remade!

Exciting stuff. Feel free to follow me again if you want and if you don’t that’s completely alright - thank you for sticking with me all this time. Love you guys. 

I’m keeping the url so you can always find me in the drift at damnelves.

We’re drifting to sleep. Cars buzz by below us, the heartbeat of New York City pumping in our veins even as our eyes are closed. His arms find me, as they always do once we settle in for the night. He squeezes.

“Goodnight,” he says.
“Goodnight, love,” I whisper.

Silence. Slow breathing. A thumb rubbing the inside of my arm.

“I can’t wait to marry you,” he says. “One day.”

I smile.

“And have babies,” he says, his voice getting softer and slower with every syllable spoken. “I want a little girl.”

“Me too, baby. Me too,” I say, but I know he’s already slipped into a dream. Possibly a dream about us, possibly about our future, possibly about all the in between seconds that we swear we’ll never forget. “I love you.”

He snores gently. I kiss his forehead and think how lucky I am, even if I were to lose him tomorrow, to have even loved him at all.

okay i know it’s been two years and i should probably let it go but. why the fuck wasn’t pacific rim nominated for best score at the oscars. have you heard the pacific rim soundtrack. that shit goes hard as hell. i listen to that and i’m ready to fight these extradimensional sea aliens no questions asked. don’t even need a jaeger i’ll use my goddamn fists. where was the damn oscar cynthia

“I’m different.”

Harry looks up. Niall’s staring at him.

“Pardon?”

“I’m different. Everyone you’ve ever been with…” Niall turns to look at the ground. He shakes his head in disbelief. Harry spies the pink creeping up Niall’s neck. “..you get bored with. You have places to see and people to talk to. All these years you never stayed in the same place, s'like…you’re always movin’.”

It’s Harry’s turn to stare. His throat becomes a little dry. It’s true. He can’t find the words, so he stays quiet.

“To be honest,” Niall continues, “I don’t know what to call it..” he visibly drifts a little, swallowing, starting elsewhere, “with me, you go away like you do with everyone else, but…”

Harry reaches out, touching Niall’s arm, soft as a feather. Niall gets goosebumps.

“You keep coming back.”

confession:
I roleplay online and when you interact with regulars, you begin to talk to the typist behind it. It’s comforting, you bond with a few people and have long-distance friendships. However, I always feel so nervous when the ‘post a selfie’ talks begin. Everyone else is pretty and anything-but-black, and they’ll say ‘oh you look just like how I thought you would!’ I’ve even had people tell me 'I bet you’re tall, blonde, long hair’ essentially assuming I’m white. So when I post a selfie, things feel….weird afterwards. People use forced compliments or just…you can tell when the air gets a little stagnant. Hell, some even began to drift from me after that and feel uncomfortable roleplaying with me. I thought I’d find comfort with other black roleplayers but I’m not the 'pretty’ black type with natural hair and I have trouble finding myself decent looking as it is, should any of us be black those girls get all the compliments (which is fine, do you boo you’re gorgeous and I won’t take that away from you.) It’s sad that I’m afraid to truly be comfortable in my own skin because I know people will treat me different once they know I’m not a pretty tumblr girl.