She’s five, and she’s already been claimed.
“You’re mine.” That’s what her mother softly tells her, kissing her hairline and pulling her close. But she happily allows this enveloping warmth.
She’s seven, and once again someone says those words.
“You’re mine.” That’s what the small girl declares across the crayon-littered table after asking if she has a best friend. But she is treated as an equal, so she accepts this declaration.
She’s sixteen, and she’s given herself to another.
“You’re mine.” This is whispered against the hollow of her neck, and she quickly nods her agreement. She offers up a piece of herself that she cannot get back. But she is willing as he kisses her every corner and every edge.
But with time, love can rot.
She’s seventeen, and now she feels owned.
“You’re mine.” This is shouted, and it’s a demand for conformity. Her mother’s voice is no longer soft; it has grown sharp and jagged. It scratches her. It draws blood.
She’s nineteen, and her voice has been stolen.
“You’re mine.” That’s what her friend tells her, the now-grown girl overcome by the coldness that’s seeped into her life. She’s called terrible names before the girl asks if she’s her enemy. After a pause, she fills the void.
She’s twenty, and she’s been robbed of all that she was.
“You’re mine.” That’s what he tells her, voice low as he grips her bruised arm between rough fingers. She tries to shake her head no, but she has no voice to speak, and her body is no longer her own. So she lets this boy take her, hurt her, burn her.
Now she stands in front of a mirror, trying to say the words she’s heard countless times. They’ve been murmured, and they’ve been whispered, and they’ve been shouted, but her mouth is unable to form that simple sentence.
She belonged to everyone but herself.
Finals are rounding the corner. I’m sorry to say it, but it’s true. This means that the next week or two is going to be, for a lot of people, the most stressful of the year. HOWEVER, finals themselves aren’t fatal, so you can make it through. Here’s six tips to keep your cool and win the Finals battle.
Don’t pull all-nighters. Sleep helps your memory solidify! There’s no point in cramming German if you don’t remember any of the vocab during the test. Get the sleep, even if it’s only two hours here and two hours there - and a full night’s sleep is best.
Highlighting doesn’t help. If you’re aiming for information retention, summarize what you were about to highlight. Write notes in the margins. Highlighters are how college students color, and are as useful for studying as crayons.
Leading a study group is best. So, study groups are great! Join them! But leading them is even better. Being the person who explains to other people how something works is the best way to get a better understanding of the thing yourself.
Prioritize! Think of the things you’re going to find most valuable in five or ten years. Would you prefer to remember a high GPA, or an extra hour of Netflix? Graduate with honors, or goof off on Tumblr? Figure out what future you would prefer to have done, and then do that thing. Same thing goes for classes - set up your future self to thank you for what current you is doing.
No, that project can’t be completed in three hours. It can’t. Start it now, because otherwise you will have a bad time later.
Take care of yourself. Sleep enough. Drink water. Remember your medications. Eat. Talk to people or counselors or your dog. Finals will pass, but there’s only one you - make sure that you’re still standing after the last exam, otherwise what’s the point?
Finals are not in fact the end of the world, I promise. You’ll get through them, and regardless of the outcome, you’ll have learned something out of it - if only that certain classes are not your forte, and others are.
Hello! I love how you answer to people seeking art advice, you're really talented and have improved so much! I'd like to make an art blog to motivate myself to draw more, but idk where to start, do you have any tips on this? ;; <3
hello :D thank you so much! Follow artists that inspire you and create an inspiration sideblog
I made one here and I reblog photos/art that make me want to draw every time I look at it. Super useful! If that doesn’t work out for you then I also suggest finding the medium that you like to use (pencil/digitalart/paint) and practice from there, don’t be afraid to experiment. You’d be surprised with what medium works best for you (ex. for some reason crayons and chalk work so well with me, it was an interesting discovery).
Upload drawings or doodles that you’re proud of and want to share!
Wherever You Are Is The Place I Belong [Narry] 1/?
Summary: Harry and Niall have been together for a long time, growing up together will do that. It’s only when they hit puberty that they start considering actually being together (like properly together). It’s daunting to say the least, but somehow, it just seems right.
They’re four, and Niall and Harry have known each other for a little more than a year, becoming best friends over a box of crayons and the same spiderman naptime blanket. Their parents take them out to the park for a playdate and that’s where it happens, some snot nosed eight year old trampling through the sand castle Niall’s been painstakingly making for half an hour.
“Hey!” Niall yells but the kid barely notices, continues on his way, and Niall has to fight back tears. He’d spent a lot of time on that thing. Out of the corner of his eye, Niall can see Harry standing up from his own build but he doesn’t expect Harry to stomp over to the kid, shove him in the back with two hands.
The kid stumbles, catches himself, and spins on Harry, and Niall’s heart is practically in his throat because Harry might be tall for his age, but the kid’s at least a head taller, longer legs, stronger arms, a furious look on his face.
But Harry doesn’t let him get a word in before he’s ranting, “Watch where you’re going, you big stinky head! Niall was building there and now it’s ruined because of you! I hate you! You suck!” and on and on until his chest is heaving and the kid looks uneasy, his hands up in surrender. He’s glancing around like he’s looking for a parent.
That’s when Harry’s mother rushes over and she separates them, apologizing to the kid even though he was in the wrong, but Niall doesn’t even care. “Why don’t you go play with Niall, honey.” Anne says, voice gentle, but the way she shoves Harry over is pointedly moving him away from the situation.
Harry’s pouting when he comes near so Niall hugs him tight, rubs their cheeks together in some clumsy imitation of the scent marking he’s seen on TV before he pulls away. Harry’s cheeks have gone all red now and there’s a goofy smile on his lips, it looks good. Niall smiles back, says “Let’s build something together, okay?” and Harry lets him lead the way.