It’s funny how everyone likes to question Clarke and her leadership abilities. Always knocking her down for the choices she makes. Nothing she does is good enough, every decision is judged. Yet when it comes down to it, no one else puts themselves forward, they come running to Clarke when they are faced with a serious situation. In ‘Tinder Box’ when Octavia is found not to be breathing, panic and shock kicks in and no one knows what to do. It’s Clarke who pushes her worries and fears aside. In fact she doesn’t leave time for her feelings to cloud her judgement. Her only goal is to protect her people, make sure they survive and it’s always been Clarke that steps up and takes charge of the hard situations so the others don’t have to. No matter how difficult they may be.
Hi Leslie! I'm a game design major and after seeing some of my art in class, a classmate of mine asked for me to draw him in some cartoon style. I told him that I don't do that kind of thing for free, so he agreed to pay me. I took the request, but after a bit, I realized that I know NOTHING about taking commissions. I don't know how much to charge, if I should send progress updates or anything really. So that brings me to ask: do you have any tips or insight on doing commissions? Thank you!
1.) Figuring how much to charge is p hard. I heard there are websites that help you do it. All I can say is make sure it’s never less than the minimum wage. Here in CA I think min wage is $10.50/hr. so I won’t go under that. Technically I’ll spend up to 2-3 hrs per icon so I should be charging up to $30 haha but ech. JUST YKNOW. Dont undercharge!
2.) Make them pay UPFRONT. Don’t work first and then have them pay! You can get scammed like that really how stupid!! If the person who is commissioning you doesnt want to pay upfront don’t take the commission. They can find someone else then.
OR you can have them pay half up front, do a sketch and send them that, and once they like the sketch they pay the other half and then you finish. But yeah I rather go with full payment up front cuz I refuse to work for free lmao.
3.) I, personally, love sending progress sketches! So that if they dont like something about the picture they can tell me as soon as possible! Nothing sucks more than finishing a long commission AND THEN they ask you to change something they dont like.
“No one could ever be that big of a jackass, Leslie!” UM YES THEY CAN haha trust me. So its best to send people multiple updates if you can afford to do so!
I like to send then a rough sketch WIP. If they like it I’ll do the lineart and send them that too. Once they approve the lineart I finish the coloring! The end!
4.) Communication is VERY important! Try to keep your commissioner updated often! If you dont talk to them for a while they’ll think you abandoned them and their commission. If you need a vacation or hiatus or whatever let them know!
5.) REQUIRE VISUAL REFERENCES. unless of course it’s a custom adoptable or something. Nothing sucks more when someone is like “can u draw my oc they have short brown hair and blue eyes thanks :)” LIKE NO THANKS
Not having visual references makes things incredibly hard! If they have no references then it’s considered a custom adoptable (you design a character for them) and that is usually more expensive than normal commissions! CUZ YOURE DESIGNING A CHARACTER FOR THEM WOWIE yeah
6.) Be upfront about how long it’ll take you to finish the commission! If you think it’ll take you a week tell em! A month? Be honest! Dont say youll have it done in 2 days when you know youll be extremely busy or whatever haha like I said, COMMUNICATION IS IMPORTANTE!
TREAT YOUR COMMISSIONER THE WAY YOU WOULD WANT TO BE TREATED IF YOU WERE IN THEIR SHOES!
7.) If the commissioner is rude, too impatient, overall an unpleasant person it’s okay to drop them. Give them a refund and let it go, you HAVE that right. Don’t put yourself in a position you dont want to be in. If they cant be professional you can leave. If you give them a full refund you owe them nothing more. Sometimes people are assholes so don’t work with them.
THATS ALL I CAN COME UP WITH RIGHT NOW. HOPE SOMETHING STICKS WITH YOU!! GOOD LUCK YOU’LL DO GREAT!!
Summary: You asked Jeff, a senior you barely knew, for a ride home while he was going on the beer run.
Warnings: Read part 1, 2, 3 and 4 on my page! Swearing. Angst. It’s kind of sad. Also it’s a little different from the show.
As soon as you walked into Monet’s, you saw Jeff. He looked exhausted. He was half sitting and half laying on a chair, in a position that couldn’t possibly be comfortable. His cap was pulled down just enough to cover his eyes.
You reached his table and sat down in front of him. He got up as soon as he heard the sound of you dragging the chair.
“Hi” he greeted, with a sad and tired voice. You noticed how he seemed to get worse day after day. His skin grew paler, the bags under his eyes turned a darker shade of purple, his lips got dryer and dryer.
“Hi” you said it back. The whistle you heard on the accident night, the same one you’ve been hearing every since then, started to echo on your ear again. You ignored it, as usual.
“How’s your family?”
He breathed in heavily.
You remained in silence. The whistle kept getting louder, something that also happened often.
“I owe you an explanation” Jeff began.
“No, you don’t” you immediately cut him off. “I misunderstood everything, I made things awkward, but I get it now. Let’s just forget about it”
“(Y/N), you misunderstood something, but not what you think you misunderstood”
“What are you talking ab-” you stopped talking. The whistle got louder than ever, turning into a deafening buzz. It grew louder and louder by the second, becoming unbearable. You shut your eyes and grabbed the edge of the table.
“What’s happening?” you barely heard Jeff’s voice, but felt his hand on your shoulder. You didn’t answer. Your head hurt. “Baby what’s the matter?”
Your grip on the table got tighter, to the point it broke beneath your fingers. The costumers, unable to see you, got scared out of their minds. In their view, that table simply broke itself.
“Let’s get out of here” Jeff said, and led you outside. You stopped at a park and sat down on the grass. “(Y/N), please, you’re scaring me”
Still frowning, you looked at him. Your vision was red and blurry, your head felt like it was being crushed. The noise wouldn’t stop.
“Remember how I told you…” you tried to speak, but it made the pain worse. “Whistle…”
“The whistle you’ve been hearing since that first night? Is that what’s bothering you?” he desperately tried to help, not knowing how.
“Too loud” you cried. “I-”
The buzz had a frequency and intonation, something you hadn’t realized until then. It was like… morse code? It came, lasted for a few seconds and stopped for a brief moment, then started again and went on like this.
“It’s like- it’s like words” you mumbled. “Jeff, I think someone’s talking to me”
As soon as you said it, the buzz stoped. It was replaced by a soft voice, not nearly as loud. It sounded like someone talking right beside you.
“And then there was Marcus. You remember the Dollar Valentine thing, right? Well, I showed up on Marcus’ list and he gave me a call” the voice said, as if it was telling a story. You remembered that voice.
“It’s Hannah. Hannah Baker. She’s talking to me” you told Jeff.
“It must be a good sign that you can hear them now” he smiled, sadly. “You must be close to waking up”
You shook your head.
“I don’t think that’s it”
“What do you think it is, then?” Jeff frowned.
“Hang on. Whatever Hannah’s saying, it sounds important” you asked. Jeff went silent and both of you sat there, in the grass, for about an hour. She talked and talked and everything she said sounded awful. She was being abused at school and she had no one to talk to. That’s why she was there, standing beside my bed, talking to my unconscious body.
“Well, that was number six. I have to leave now. I’ll come back tomorrow for number seven” Hannah said, after she finished the whole Marcus story. “I hope you get better soon. You seem like a nice girl. I’d like it if we became friends”
And then she left. You decided that, when and if you woke up, you’d become Hannah’s best friend and stand up for her.
“Jeff?” you called. He was distant, lost in thoughts, but looked at you immediately when you called his name. “She just left. We can talk now”
He held my hand.
“I have to tell you something. Explain myself”
“Jeff, it doesn’t matter. Soon you’ll wake up and I’ll be gone” you said. Before he could say anything, you kept going. “This morning, my mom told my grandparents that the doctors said I’ll probably never wake up. I hurt my head badly, and I haven’t been responding to the medication. They’re going to turn off my life support in three days. I’m dying”
Jeff’s mouth hung open.
“Baby I’m so sorry…” he held you on his arms and it felt like the safest place on earth. You gently pulled away, tears escaping your eyes.
“If I’m not the one for you, if you don’t feel the same way I do, you’ve gotta stop holding me the way you do”
“(Y/N), you are the one for me” he cupped your face with his hands. “I didn’t say so before because I didn’t want to be a weight on your life”
You gave him a light push.
“You’re an idiot! It wasn’t your choice to make… besides, you couldn’t possibly be a weight for me” you sighed. Jeff smiled again, that lazy smile of his, and kissed you passionately.
After a while, you decided to take it somewhere else. Even though no one could see you, it was definitely weird having a makeout session on the middle of a town square.
Jeff took you to a greenhouse on the next day. You would watch the sunset there. He looked ill and worn out, but made his best effort to look fine. You both climbed up to the roof, sitting there and waiting. The sun slowly faded in the horizon while you held hands.
“Hey there” Hannah’s voice interrupted the moment. It scared you enough to make you jump a little. Jeff glanced at you.
“What’s wrong?” He asked.
“Not wrong, just weird. I mean, Hannah’s back. People have been talking to me all the time since yesterday, but I still didn’t got used to it. It’s like they’re right next to us, but I can’t see them”
“So, number seven. Zach Dempsey” Hannah kept going with her story. You didn’t really understood why she was telling it like it was a list, labeling people with numbers and stuff like that.
“Can’t you hear anything?” you asked him, when Hannah took a break from her and Zach’s story.
“Not really” he shrugged.
“Why?” you insisted.
“Jesus, I don’t know” he laughed uncomfortably. “Maybe you’re more spiritually developed than me”
You rolled your eyes. Then something hit you.
“What’s your current state?” you asked.
Jeff looked at you like you were an alien. Then, he pinched himself in the arm.
“Solid” he answered.
“That’s not- you’re such an idiot” you laughed. “I mean, you never told me why you’re here. Are you in a coma? It’s probably an induced coma. You would be in a lot of pain if you woke up now. Your body needs time to heal. That’s why they put you in an induced coma”
“How come every time you ask me a question you answer it yourself?” he asked, and held you on his arms.
“Not every time” you denied, smiling. “I mean, only occasionally”
“I have to tell you something” Jeff kissed your forehead. You sat straight in a heartbeat, but not because of his words, but because something was wrong.
“Well anyway, I decided to try him” Hannah’s voice came back.
“Are you okay?” Jeff asked.
You grabbed his hand so firmly you were pretty sure your nails hurt him.
“My heart” you said. “Something is wrong”
You pressed your free hand against your chest and waited. Nothing happened.
“My heart is not beating” you whispered.
“I wrote a letter-” Hannah’s voice was interrupted by a loud noise. A machine was beeping like crazy.
“(Y/N)?!” Both Hannah and Jeff screamed your name.
“Somebody help her!” Hannah yelled. You heard more voices. Someone telling her to back away. Someone shouting “Page cardio!”. Jeff talking to you.
“I can’t hear you” you cried to him. “So many… voices!”
He picked you up and got down the roof. Carrying you in his arms, he ran away from the greenhouse. You read his lips. He was saying “stay alive, stay alive”.
You couldn’t see where he was heading. Your body kept going into shock. It was the defibrillator. They yelled “Charge to 200!” and “Clear!”, then it hit your chest and it hurt like hell. It felt like you were being electrocuted.
You looked up to the stars. They were just a blur on the sky, since Jeff was running with you on his arms.
The noise from the hospital started to fade away slowly. You could now hear clearly while Jeff still whispered like a mantra: “Stay alive, (Y/N), stay alive”.
“Jeff?” you called.
“Hey baby. We’re almost there, okay? I’m taking you to the hospital” he cried.
“It won’t help” you told him, but he kept running. “Jeff. Jeff. Jeff, please, stop!”
He did as you said. He looked at you, desperate, and you smiled weakly at him.
“Let’s sit down for a moment, okay?” you asked. He nodded, crying his eyes out. You sat in front of a place you recognized as the small farm where you learned to ride a bike. Yeah, it really was near the hospital. Only a few blocks away. You didn’t realize it until now.
“Baby I’m sorry. I don’t know how to help you” he whispered.
“It’s okay… it doesn’t hurt” you said.
“You don’t have to lie” he ran his fingers through your hair. “They’re defibrillating you. It must hurt like a bitch”
You managed to laugh a little.
“I know that we just met and maybe this is too much” he started, but struggled to say the words he wanted because he was crying so, so hard.
“Charge to 360!”
Your body jumped and Jeff held you tighter.
“The thing is, even in that short amount of time, we got to know each other. We shared a story, an intense story, we’ve been through a lot together” he said. You tried to respond, but it was too hard. “You were… you are” he corrected himself “an important part of my life. And I love you, (Y/N). I really really do”
Your fingers gently caressed his face. Your mouth opened up to say it back. It was a huge struggle, but he needed to know. You had to say it back.
“Charge to 360! Again, people, again!”
Your body jumped again and, with a desperate grasp for air, you lifted yourself enough to sit down. You looked around and the sudden brightness blinded you for a second. The hospital. You were at the hospital. They brought you back before you could say it.
“No, no, no!” you screamed.
“Miss (Y/L/N), calm down” somebody said. “Tell Rose to call her parents”
“Let me go, I need to tell him! Where is he?” you cried, and grabbed one of the doctors by the arm. “Sir, I need to see him. Take me to his room, he can hear me, I know he can. I heard you all!”
You looked around frantically and saw Hannah’s pale and scared face.
“Hannah! Hannah, I heard you! If I can hear you, he can hear me!” you tried to make them listen, but they kept trying to push you down. “Please don’t sedate me, please, I just need to tell him. I need to tell him!”
“Make way. Make way” a male voice said. The older doctor who claimed to be friends with my parents showed up in my sight. “(Y/N), sweetheart, do you remember me?”
“Richard Webber” you finally recognized him. “Richard, please, I need to see him. I have to tell him!”
“Calm down, okay? Who do you need to see?” he asked, although something in his eyes told you he already knew.
“Jeff! Jeff Atkins!”
“Do you mean the boy who was in the car with you?” Richard asked.
“Yes, yes, that’s the one!”
Everybody looked away. The doctors started to leave the room, and the only ones who remained were Richard, Hannah and you. Neither of them seemed to be able to look you in the eyes.
“Richard, please, it’s very important. I have something to tell him, he needs to know” your voice didn’t sound as loud as before. Your screaming turned into a sorrowful whine.
“(Y/N)… Jeff flew out the window. The car landed right above him-”
“I already know that” you sighed. “Just tell me where he is right now”
“What I’m trying to tell you is… the car crushed his skull, spinal cord and ribs. That means he didn’t make it. He passed away instantly”
That couldn’t be happening.
“That’s not true. He told me…” you started.
What? What did he tell you? He never said he was alive. He never mentioned he was in a coma. You just assumed it all.
As you thought about it, you realized just how many clues he gave you. He didn’t let you look while they took his body from under the car. He mentioned several times that he didn’t have a life anymore, that he would never play baseball again and he would never go to college. He never said it was because of his injuries or amputations. Once again, you just assumed.
“Oh my god” you fell apart, and the warm tears ran across your face. Jeff was dead. He knew it all along. That’s what he meant when he said he didn’t want to be a weight on your life. He knew just how painful it would be for you, this very moment, when you woke up and realized he was gone. “I didn’t got the chance to tell him”
Hannah walked towards you and hugged you.
“Hannah, he told me he loved me and I didn’t get a chance to say it back. I was about to… then I woke up here” you sobbed.
“I’m sure he knows. Wherever he is, he knows” she said.
————- Bonus —————-
“Auntie (Y/N)” you heart a childish voice calling you. You looked away from the book you were reading and saw your best friend’s six year old toddler. His bright blue eyes were wide open and staring at you.
“Have I and you paint that together?” he pointed at a big painting hanging on your living room’s wall. “Because I know to read and it says on the corner ‘Jeff and (Y/N), 2017’. But I are confused because I are born in long after 2017”
You laughed softly.
“Well, that was another Jeff. He was a friend of mine, and also of your mommy and daddy” you explained. “He was such a good friend that your mommy and daddy named you after him”
“So the name of his was Jeffrey Baker Jensen?”
“No, baby” you picked him up. “Just Jeff”
“Are your babies named after people too?” Jeff asked. “Is sister of mine Heather named after people?”
“No. We only name our babies after people when they’re really really special” you said, smiling. “Would you like to see a picture of Jeff? I have one near the fireplace”
“I dooooo” he yelled, and giggled.
“You two actually look alike, did you know that? He had blue eyes and brown hair just like yours”
“We’re twins!” baby Jeff yelled again, then he frowned. “Where are Uncle Jeff right now?”
“He’s on the sky. He’s a star now”
“Does that mean he lives with the moon and asteroids and comets and astronauts and spaceships and aliens?”
“Well, it definitely sounds like him” you giggled.
Wherever he was, you knew it was a better place. You could almost see him living new adventures, watching lobsters fight and playing baseball, forever young, dreamy and beautiful. You still loved him and would love him forever. And even though you never got the chance to tell him that, deep in your heart you were sure he knew.
no this is not funny or cute or considerate he will drape himself over u like ur an actual body pillow and he will not move for hours. you’d better have your phone charged. bitty learned the hard way
altho it’s a fun time for the other stoners like one day you’ll come into the haus and jack, shitty, lardo and maybe nursey’s in a cuddle pile on the disgusting couch
laughs at EVERYTHING (like any other stoned person but it’s just weird seeing jack not being a hockey robot)
he once started laughing at the concept of a hockey puck. why is a puck like that (“like what, jack?”) like…. that
asks concerning questions “what if the ice in faber broke” “what” “like, what if you got checked so hard u broke through the ice and there’s water underneath and u go for a nice lil swim” “Jack the ice is stable enough to hold a bunch of huge jocks–” “I’m gonna break it tomorrow and see what happens. bitty do you think there’s fish in there” “JACK NO"
"BITTLE why do u make so many pies” “…because I’m a baker? I love baking???” “but that’s… there’s so many pies. how do you do it” “i bake them. with ingredients. Jack are you okay” “THERES SO MANY PIES BITTLE” “jack please get off of me my phones dead and i need to charge it i beg u" “ARE YOU A PIE WIZARD”
he gets intensely focused on the smallest of things. again, bitty learned this the hard way when, not only is he pinned down and bring spooned by a giant hockey man, the giant hockey man decides to count every single freckle on his face. or almost pokes your eyes out trying to measure your super long eyelashes with a ruler. what the fuck, jack
gives and requests affection. he once called his dad asking if he loves Jack. "of course I do, Jack. why do you ask” “aw that’s good I love you too papa i give u a lot of shit but ur the best dad ever sorry for pooping in the stanley cup” “what–” “*hangs up*”
“Don’t become an artist. You’ll be poor.” A lot of would-be artists receive that advice in childhood. Why are some artists successful, and others not? And could that be different?
A large part of the problem is what they sell and how they sell it. Many artists don’t know how to sell themselves. Many are shy. Or they don’t sell things that scale effectively.
Artists Are Poor Because They Don’t Scale
One-time commissions are a common way for artists to make money, but they’re not sustainable. They can only sell once. Not only that, but artists tend to drive their own prices down. Many of them aren’t confident enough to charge more, so it’s hard for all artists to charge a lot. When I tried calculating my commission prices to reflect an hourly rate, it was less than working at McDonald’s. I know I wouldn’t be able to make a living with just commissions.
Things that you make once, but sell many times, are viable ways of making money. Like manga, anime, and games. Downloadables. Video courses. Art books. These bring value into people’s lives. Passion projects are worth creating.
Why Do Artists Let Their Passion Projects Die?
But many artists stop midway in a project. Had a manga half-written? What about a novel? School, work, or whatever gets in the way. Many of us give up at some point, losing interest in our passion projects – projects that may have become the next biggest hit, exciting millions across the globe, and given us some form of stable income.
But it’s not impossible. Professional mangaka and companies do this every day. Why? It’s because they have the skills, motivation (monetary or otherwise), time, and the teamwork to do so.
Let’s say artists already have the skills. They do, it’s clear. Time? Maybe not as much as the pros, but it’s certainly not zero. Motivation probably waxes and wanes with the stress of school or work life. But teamwork is often nonexistent; many are solo creators. Lack of accountability makes it easier to let a project die quietly.
So what separates successful creators from less successful ones? It’s their ability to manage their projects. Isn’t that sad? That means a lot of really skilled artists are buried.
Could a Company Empower Artists By Taking Over The Business Side?
Artastic was originally a business model experiment. Could popular artists bring enough attention to a product that featured undiscovered artists, such that new fans could find them? At the same time, it was an experiment to see if a team of artists with strong project management could successfully fund, create, market, and monetize a product that needed a fixed amount of time and effort to create.
It was an experiment testing how a company could help artists shine by taking over the business aspects of art. Like how a manager supports a movie star.
an emoji spell for those like myself who are starting up their new semester! may this spell grant you less stress and more great grades, great concentration, and great energy in your studies! good luck and work hard!
❤️ likes charge 🔄 reblogs cast
The final sun was close to setting and the shadows grew long. Bright orange sparks floated on the breeze like burning snowflakes. Kylo dashed between the trees, grunting as he slashed his saber against any branch that barred his way while the scavenger simply ducked and slipped ahead of him.
Nothing ever made him feel quite so lumbering and clumsy except this girl with her effortless grace. Frustration seared through his gut, and he let out a roar as he split a tree in half. He might not be as fast, but what he lacked in agility he made up for in pure power, but as always, the girl seemed to predict his move and slid out the way of the falling timber and out of reach once more.
They’d done this dance many times. Sometimes she led, sometimes he did. Sometimes it was difficult to remember what it was they wanted from each other. Information? A prisoner? Artefacts and weapons? Did it matter any more? He had never caught her and she had never caught him.
But maybe this time would be different?
The girl burst from the trees and threw herself without a thought into a thicket of brambles and thorns. Kylo followed. He abstractly admired her lack of hesitation, for though his armour protected him from the worst of the scratches, she was bare-armed and legged. A thorn tore a line across his jaw and more snagged his cloak, bringing him to a halt. With a growl of fury he swung wildly at the fanged plants until most of it lay sizzling at his feet, as did much of his cloak. His breath came hard, but he pressed on.
A soft grey tunic tangled in the branches ahead of him hinted that even she was not agile enough to escape unscathed. He ripped it free and held it to his nose, taking her scent deep into his lungs. Sweat, oil, and softer, nameless things that he knew better than her name.
With a flick, he tossed the jacket aside and stepped free of the thicket. She was waiting for him, lines of red marking every inch of her skin and her clothing almost shredded.
“Come on!” she snarled, fire and determination blazing in her eyes brighter than the blood-red sunset behind her. “Let’s end this!”
Wordlessly he charged her, striking hard. Such a strike would have staggered her once upon a time, but now she fought like water, meeting his power with deflection, stepping beyond the reach of his most powerful blows and letting the glancing kiss of his blade against hers slide harmlessly away. She was infuriating. Small and delicate and glass-like, yet he felt like he was trying to hit smoke.
His frustration was his undoing as he slashed too angrily, too wide, and she slipped in close to deliver a kick far stronger than her frame would suggest she was capable of. He staggered to his knee, just as he seized a fistful of her shirt before she could dance out of range again.
But the brambles had taken their toll on the flimsy fabric and Kylo’s fist was the final straw. As Rey pulled back, her shirt tore away. This was how Kylo Ren discovered that the scavenger girl did not wear a breast band.
Blinking, as one might when staring into the sun, he stared at the girl who turned to him with irritable defiance. Her skin was a flawless and smooth expanse, dappled with tan lines and faint scratches. One scratch was beading with blood, just below a freckle, a freckle that dotted the edge of a small, pink nipple. It was the same shade as her lips, he thought absently, darting a look up at her face to confirm.
Incredulously, the girl dropped her saber to her side. “What’s the matter?” she demanded. “You never seen tits before?”
As a matter of fact he hadn’t.
Nor did he really see the boot that then came flying at his head, busy as he was studying the pert little mounds, which were the last thing he remembered - and perhaps a remark of “Kriffing pervert,” - before he woke up with an aching head and a mouth full of dirt.
When the Supreme Leader later asked him how the scavenger had managed to escape him once again, he could only fall back on old excuses. “She is… strong in the… Force.”
I wish to share something I discovered in 2016, which I find very profound and liberating; It is that God, unlike human beings, will
never compare you to anyone else. He’ll only compare you to you. Who you
were yesterday, who you are today, and who you will be tomorrow. Your
only competition is, well, you.
Allah is not looking for perfection, but simply progress and realistic improvements within ourselves.
With this in mind, you don’t have to worry about what people think, how
great other people are and instead focus on your own personal
(spiritual, physical etc) development, at your own pace. You will learn to accept that Allah has created everyone very differently, and that is okay. I used to have
this self-limiting belief in what I can do, especially in UM law school
where everyone is just freaking smarrrrt. So instead of ‘I’m gonna try
my best’ I say 'there’s no use, there’s always going to be someone
better’. I know, dumb and damaging indeed.
But Alhamdulillah towards the end of 2016, thanks to positive and
supporting friends, I realized how important it is to have faith, both
in God and myself & managed to incorporate a more positive
psychological premise. Take it easy, but take charge. Work very hard.
And by Allah’s grace and mercy, you will get what you want. He is just
waiting to answer your prayers.
2016 was hands down the
toughest yet most beautiful year in my life. I had my first ugliest
heartbreak, got terribly sick & depressed, restricted to join so
many activities & lost the people I love. But I also had my best
semester in law school, performed well in class, had the best ramadan in
my 22 years, found spectacular friends, bestowed with exciting
opportunities and the list goes on. So no regrets. I’ve gotten over
grieving on what is not meant to be mine, done crying buckets over
things that are not in my control and now just looking forwards to be a
better Muslim, and human being as a whole.
Thank you everyone for 2016, I am absolutely blessed beyond measure. Wishing all of you a kick-ass 2017.
I was thinking about mundane ways to use the Champions abilities, like lowkey magic that can be hidden as decoration. Magical art projects if you will.
Revali’s Gale would be good for calling up the wind, and maybe even a storm. So perhaps windchimes? Make one yourself, or buy one and decorate it. Have Vah Medoh’s symbol, a bird charm, or a sigil for ‘vah medoh’ or ‘revali’s gale’ on it. This is easier to do if your chime is made of wood or glass. Let any natural wind or rain cleanse it. If you need some wind, channel Revali’s brash confidence, and then chime it. Chime once with a soft whistle for a light breeze, three times with a middling whistle for a strong gust, and chime ten times with a sharp, loud whistle to call up a storm.
Mipha’s Grace could be a sensory bottle, filled with light blue water and silver glitter, and little seashells and other ocean things. Tie a little elephant charm around the top with some twine or green thread to represent Vah Ruta, or draw sigils for ‘vah ruta’ or ‘mipha’s grace’ on it. When you have extra energy or are in a particularly good mood, charge the bottle with it, and think of Mipha’s kind, calming presence. Shake whenever you need it, letting all the good energy run through you and cleanse it in moonlight, rain or running water. Make it small, and you can carry it with you, or make a big one in a jar and maybe add a waterproof led light for extra calming affects.
Daruk’s Protection would be a fun one. Take a small fish bowl and a cork that fits, or any wide mouth glass jar with a cork lid (even better if it’s red!). Make a little poppet or popsicle stick house to represent you or your space. Draw a Vah Rudania’s symbol or a sigil for ‘vah rudania’ or ‘daruk’s protection’ on the house or on paper to stuff the poppet with. You can also draw it on the bottom of your cork. Add a layer of red sand and sea salt to the bottle, and drop in the poppet or house. Put the cork in, and if you want, tie a little lizard charm to the top. Envision a shield that deflects harm and toxicity covering you/your space and charge the jar, thinking fondly of Daruk’s courageous and friendly nature. Cleanse in the sun or with healthy plants that have agreed to help you.
Urbosa’s Fury would probably be the hardest, but I think another sensory bottle would work. Instead of blue water have it clear, with red, yellow and orange glitter, so it looks like a desert sunset (or, if you’re a desert witch, maybe you can use actual desert sand?). Get some lightning bolt charms, jacks (like the game), and maybe some glass beads and add it to the bottle. Draw Vah Naboris’ symbol or a sigil for ‘vah naboris’ or ‘urbosa’s fury’ on the bottle, or tie a little camel charm around the top. Cleanse in the sun, during a thunderstorm, or on top of an electric device like a tv or a charging dock. Shake hard when you’re angry, letting it all out into the bottle to charge it. When you need a quick curse, call up Urbosa’s righteous fury, shake the bottle and release the energy like a bolt of lightning with a snap of the fingers.