c melody

I don’t want you to be just another sad song.” she said. “A song that I cannot listen to anymore. I don’t want you to be just another painful ending. A beautiful sunset that will be different the next day. It feels heavy thinking that you will be just another memory that I cannot grasp to anymore. I wanted to grab you and hold you forever. I can’t just let you be another beautiful disaster that made me feel something I can’t quite understand. I can’t. Please, I don’t want you to be temporary. Because you already have the part of my life, which I give to someone who is permanent. Someone who I never wanted to leave.
—  ma.c.a // Tattoo and Melodies

Anonymous said: Could you maybe write something with the smiths and pines families for #26(thanksgiving)

I wasn’t really sure what to write so I opted for illustrating this prompt instead. Happy Thanksgiving to my fellow Canadians!

Aria Ruysch ( Ariel – The Little Mermaid )

                          former professional swimmer | singer | curious & adventurous.



[noun, adjective des-kant; verb des-kant, dis-] 

1. Music.
    a. a melody or counterpoint accompanying a simple musical theme and usually written above it.
    b. (in part music) the soprano.
    c. a song or melody.

2. a variation upon anything; comment on a subject.


3. Music (chiefly British).
 a. soprano:    
     a descant recorder.
    b. treble:
     a descant viol.

Verb (used with object)

4. Music. to sing.

5. to comment or discourse at great length.

1350-1400; Descant is derived from Medieval Latin discantus, “a refrain,” from Latin dis-+ cantus, “song,” from the past participle of canere, “to sing.”

“These to their nests,
Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale;
She all night long her amorous descant sung.”
- John Milton, Paradise Lost

Joseph Severn     Poet John Keats     c.1821

“Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard, are sweeter” John Keats, from “Ode on a Grecian Urn”  1820

Hey all of you, I hope you’re having a great weekend so far, and I bring you my 600 followers celebration! I have just reached 600 followers (I can’t believe it either) and to thank you all for following my trash blog, I’ve decided to host a follower celebration! (offering blogrates, name aesthetics, hp aesthetics, make me chose edits and writing prompts!)

R U L E S ;

W H A T  Y O U  G E T ;

Send me two of the following: 

  • 🌟 for a blograte
  • ✨ for a name aesthetic, along with your prefered name
  • ⚡ for a hp aesthetic
  • two characters/ships (from hp) for a make me chose edit, or a prompt along with a character/ship for a short oneshot

F O R M A T  U N D E R  T H E  C U T ;

Keep reading

✴︎ — Sheridan grabbed his jacket off the hook in the front of Glimmer’s entry, eyes landing on the hook that had remained empty from where Rae’s coat or scarf - whatever she’d been wearing most - usually was. He hadn’t so much as gotten a text since she’d taken off shortly after the fight had started, although his sister said she was alive at least. But he would deal with that later. He was just glad that he and Mel were finally going to talk about things after a month of avoidance and mostly giving each other the silent treatment. Maybe they could coax Rae back once they’d figured things out between themselves.

      Sheridan grabbed the keys for Glimmer’s truck, maybe speeding all the way to Mel’s house. He parked in front, making his way to the door, and ringing the bell, fingers toying with the end of his shirt before he shoved them in his pockets to keep from fidgeting as he waited for Mel to open the door.