doorways in the sand

the witch who brought the rain

water magic was in the air, a humidity that curled in her hair and muffled all her movements. not enough to work with, not enough to summon even a crackle of energy, but it was there, all around her.

she brought the humidity with her, along with storm clouds and rain. in the warm months after she arrived rain splattered almost constantly, letting up for only minutes at a time before beginning again and again and again. mornings were filled with gray light, like watercolors washed too thin. afternoons were warm but wet with the constant drizzling, everything suffocatingly green. and the gray-blue evenings felt like velvet on your skin from the humidity, the expanse of ocean bleeding into the endless deep blue sky.

so they called her a mermaid, or the girl who walked out of the sea, never mind that she’d come to town from the mountains, feet on solid ground all the way. yes, she’d brought the rain with her, but it had found her on its own.

it started back in those mountains. she’d woken up one day to find her morning tea singing bright, wordless songs at her, and the kettle steam whistling with far more skill than it ever had before. the water she splashed on her face ran off and left her perfectly dry when she only thought about it. rivulets of water trickled after her the wrong way up a slanted street.

people started to look at her sideways, to talk to her less and about her more. one day when she waded through the shallow river and emerged with her skirt soaked in spiraling patterns of wet and dry, the clothes-washers at the bank went silent until she finished her laundry and left. no one met her eyes as she walked home.

she decided it was time to leave. the rain found her as she descended into the foothills and guided her steps to the coast, to an abandoned cottage too close to the shore, and settled in with her. no one in this new town met her eyes either, but at least to them she wasn’t a girl they’d once known turned strange.

she practiced her magic. coaxing the rain to stop and then to pour. freezing the remains of her tea into swirls of frost in her cup. making oceans of her washbasin and bathwater.

one day she pushed a path into the ocean and walked out as far as she dared, until the walls of water built up on either side of her far over her head and she grew frightened of the dark, grinning things that stared back at her from the clear water, and ran back to the shore as fast as her feet could scramble in the sand.

“is the ocean safe today, miss?” fishermen asked her sometimes when the sky looked gray, and she could never quite shake the shudder from those glassy, grinning stares.

“it’s never safe,” she’d say, “but you’ll come back today unharmed.”

and they believed her. they always believed her. who wouldn’t trust a sea witch to know the ocean?

but no matter what myths the villagers conjured, she hadn’t come from their ocean. she was a rain girl, a river-touched witch. saltwater obeyed her, but it resented her for it. the dark grinning things hidden in the water knew they were beyond her power.

go to the ocean, the rain had told her, guiding each step away from her home. to the ocean, it repeated, running down her skin. she arrived at this village with her hair and clothes soaked, barely able to see for the rainstorm around her, shivering and resentful and cold. the ocean is dangerous, the rain told her, and they need your help.

that was the call of the rain in the warm months, as she settled into her new home and ignored each summons, each drop of water leaked under her door. help them. help them. help them.

the villagers never met her eyes, but they stared after her as she walked through town once a week. hoping. pleading. the puddles she stepped over stirred and trickled after her, winding through the cobblestones to rush after her feet. the hem of her dress was always soaked, and the villagers were always watching her back.

help them. help them.

the second time a boat failed to return after a storm, she could hear the wailing even from the isolated cottage. the drizzling rain seemed to amplify their footsteps as a group of damp, ragged villagers trekked from their houses to her door.

“the sea creatures take us one by one,” the woman who led them said when she opened the door. “children unattended on the shore. fishers and trappers near the water when the light is dull. the elders say they’re monsters, that they creep out of the waves when there’s no one looking.”

the witch stared over their heads. the waves had calmed after the storm, but the water was opaque and black in the nearly-night. “they have been satisfied for a few months. you will be safe at least until winter.”

they cried softly and pressed her hands and dipped their heads. it was easy to give them this small bit of comfort when she’d already noticed the pattern. desperate people will accept even what they already know as hope.

help them, the misting rain said as the ragged group made their way back to the village. she shut the door.

the constant rain kept up, but more heavily. it fell laboriously, always seeming as though it should have exhausted the dark clouds overhead by nightfall, yet it never did. the weather cooled. she had lived on their edge for half a year by the time the villagers lost another life to the ocean.

that night they did not go to the witch for comfort. it poured so heavily that it seemed the world was made of water.

they did not know that to her, each drop screamed as if in agony at her stillness. she sat all night wrapped in a shawl before her fireplace, the embers long ago smothered by what rain managed to get through, staring almost without blinking out the nearly sightless window. toward the ocean. toward the sea creatures with the grinning mouths.

that morning when they went without rain for hours for the first time since she’d arrived, she knew the rain had given up on her. the water in her cup boiled with a thought, steeped at her command, but it was silent as water had not been since the morning it began.

she stepped outside to unnatural stillness, in the same colorless dress and drooping shawl she’d worn all night. the villagers were holding the morning vigil for the dead in the center of their houses. smoke drifted through the scrubbed-raw air.

they watched her back as she left her doorway and went down the beach, feet bare in the cool sand. she reached the foaming edge of the ocean and kept walking. deeper, deeper, deeper, the water sucking at her skirt and then covering her shoulders, rising over her nose, eyes, head. those who didn’t turn away would claim they saw her silhouette beneath the water being embraced by something darker, and that a clawed hand reached out of the ocean and drew her trailing shawl in after her.

Sea Witchcraft

Ruler: sea goddess
Powers; attract beauty, subduction, make your self beautiful

Ruler: Venus, Neptune
Powers: emotions. Unconscious, white coral opens subconscious/ vivid dreams, pink coral emotional healing, red coral passions, give it as a gift of love.

Ruler: Venus
Power: eat crab meat to protect the home, use the shell in real estate magic, stuff the empty shell with lavender and sage to protect your dwelling. When renting fill the shell with cinnamon sticks, bay leaves, and sea salt.

Ruler: Christ, Neptune, Venus, ocean deities
Powers: fish eyes are protective, eat them to invoke magic, cook and eat the whole fish while visualizing protection/ prosperity. Draw fish on parchment or formed out if metal to create talismans. Carry a coin with the image of fish on it for wealth. Use the skin of fish in fertility magic.

Ruler: Neptune, Venus
Powers: aphrodisiac, female genitals, increase orgasm, men eat them to make themselves better lovers, fertility.

Ruler: earth
Power: sacred substance of the earth, prosperity, add some to dark leafy greens to increase your income. Cleansing, sprinkle around the four corners of the room and add to baths to protect and dispel evil. Create sacred areas with salt,
Sprinkle black salt on doorways to keep away undesirable influences.

Ruler: ocean deities
Salt represents the multitude of possibilities. One grain of sand represents Uniqueness, a handful sand represents the great influence wielded by like-minded people. Brace added to the home when you want to attract a group of people to share your same interest. Place it in a dish and burn incense on it. Hold sand in your hands to open possibilities and more options in your life. Build sand castles to make dreams come true. Wet sad helps to ground and realized potential colored sand brings verity to life.

Ruler: ocean goddess
Power: beauty, seduction, eat them smoked with mustard to sharpen your best features.

Sea weed
Ruler; Neptune, Venus
Power: eat it for prosperity, scrub seaweed on your skin in the ocean to bring good luck. Leads to excellent employment opportunity.

Sea horse
Ruler: Venus
Power: talisman for luck and love, understanding, acceptance, emotional well being

Ruler: moon, Venus
Power: loofa for beauty/ love spells, cleansing negative emotions, release anger

Ruler: Venus, Neptune, moon
Powers: dreams, feelings, cleansing, love, healing, protection, prosperity.

Sacred waters: rain, spring, salt water , holy water, Florida water, consecrated water,

Moon Goddess loose incense
6 benzoin
3 onion skins
1 1/2 allspice
1 1/2 camphor
½ poppy
1 1/4 olive oil

Grind together then burn on a charcoal disk.

Moon incense
1 willow
½ reed
¼ cucumber
1 3/4 water
½ water lily
½ jasmine

Grind all ingredients together to form a past then sculpt small cones. Then let it dry for 2 weeks.

Lunar Oil
4 pt sandalwood
2 pt camphor
1 pt lemon

Mix and Add to career oil , use during lunar rites.

Water oil
3 drops palmarosa
2 drops ylang-ylang
1 drop jasmine

Wear to promote love, healing, psychic awareness, purification.

Floor wash:
Protection wash

The floor wash includes ingredients meant to help Clean and purify home and promote peaceful happy feelings through open your windows while you wash down the house with this blend and finish up by burning protection incense.

2 pt rosemary
2 pt basil
2 large bay leaves
2 pt ginger
2 pt sea salt
1 pt dried garlic
1 pt black pepper

Pour hot water over the herbs for 10 to 15 minutes drain water into the bucket and add warm tapwater and a cleansing product of your choice.

Use to clean your floors, window seals, door frames

Ritual baths:

Sea witch bath
3 pt lotus bouquet
2 pt lavender
1 pt rosemary
Color: dark blue

3 pt Epsom salts
2 pt baking soda
1 pt table salt (or borax)

Add a bit of sea salt to this base. Bathe in the sea witches bath for gentle purification prior to magical works.

Water element bath

2pt palmarose
1 pt sandalwood
1 pt myrrh
1 pt geranium
Color dark blue
3 pt Epsom salts
2 pt baking soda
1 pt table salt (or borax)

Thought to prosperity and ward the home from bad luck and accidents, not to mention all the energy they bring in to your life. Watching fish swim can lower blood pressure.

Hag stones
A stone with a naturally made hole going through it, also known as adder stones/ witch stones. Hang them above the door way to promote milk from curtailing. Look through the hole to see the unseen, wear as a protection amulet, the more holes the more realities the stone holds. The stone is formed by water and moving currents.

My sources used in this post.
[kris Bradley, Scott Cunningham, Steven Smith, Lexa Roséan]

Threshold magic 101

Doorways are one of the first concepts we learn as we begin to explore our surroundings as infants. In those early memories doorways are magical passages dividing entire worlds in our perceptions. We pass through into new places with entirely different obstacles and experiences to encounter.

As we age, we grow more accustomed to the idea of different rooms and separations of space. Even without a proper door separating them we define spaces by their function and even without a physical barrier between them we acknowledge them as separate and distinct. For an example, consider the layout of a studio apartment, the kitchen, dining room and living room are, functionally one room, and yet people gather in distinct groups in each section of the space, separating themselves into “rooms” with no actual barriers except those imagined by those present.

The Romans had a god, Janus, whose entire domain was doorways, the transition between spaces and spans of time. The first month of the year was named for him as it was the transition between years.

The most instinctive spatial transition is that between one’s home and the outside world. The territorial sanctity of home is a spiritually powerful concept. it protects us just as our homes do. The most direct manifestation of this power is the phenomena of thresholds.

Mythology is filled with creatures which cannot enter a person’s home without their express permission and invitation. From vampires, to demons, to fairies, everything needs permission from the homeowner to enter. in a more modern context, many practitioners report feeling weaker if they enter someone else’s home uninvited.

This is a threshold, a spiritual barrier between us and the outside world. Those who cross it uninvited leave a great deal of their power behind them, so much so that some creatures cannot survive the experience.

While thresholds fall under what would normally be considered “passive” of “innate” magic, there are ways to consciously strengthen, build off, or direct the energy of your threshold to better protect you and your family.


A threshold can be strengthened in a number of ways. The simplest way is to enhance your sense of home, filling your home with things which are uniquely yours, which hold sentiment or meaning for you personally, and spending time getting your home comfortable and familiar will build up your threshold over time.

Another method is through active warding. Wreaths were an early form of warding charm hung in doorways to drive off evil and malicious spirits. Honeysuckle, St. John’s wart, Rowan, oak, Birch, and Yarrow hung above, in, or beside the doorway will add energies of purification and protection. an Iron nail driven into the door frame combines the warding power of iron, and the tranquil aspects of the rune Isa, which the nail resembles. Daggaz and ing, either painted, scratched or inscribed in a doorway bring luck and safety to those within.

Some witches like to seal their homes by painting pentacles above the major openings, including doors and windows, using either actual paint, or some variety of holy water/oil, or putting lines of salt or blessed sand along the doorways and window sills. This method has the disadvantage of being easily physically disrupted, although some industrious witches have been known to protect such lines by placing them under the metal strips which smooth the transition between the door frame and the floor.

Another method is to hang amulets in the door frame bearing symbols for protection. These can be as simple as a painted piece of paper, or as elaborate as a cast silver charm.  Another example is Amish Hex signs. A six petaled flower or 6 pointed star, represents preservation and continuity for the home, a rooster represents a watchful guardian, and a jagged circle represents the power of thurisaz to drive away evil and disruptive energies.

Building upon:

A threshold is a solid foundation for any magic which is intended to effect the home, or everyone who enters the home.  Such spells work based on the principal of the threshold as not being just a barrier, but a portal which must be passed through.

One use for magic of this kind is to ward against a particular person or type of entity. to do this it is useful to use materials and objects known to be harmful or hateful to that entity. (garlic for vampires, iron for fairies, things the person is allergic to, audio tape containing music they hate, etc.) As was mentioned before, placing these things in, on, or near the doorway is an effective method, but this may not always be convenient or practical. In this case, using them in a ritual to charge another object, such as a stone a piece of wood, or an ornament which can be attached less obtrusively is perfectly acceptable.

Another use is to place spells upon those who come and go through the door. Spells to encourage health, prosperity, peacefulness and joy are common choices. for these uses it’s best to use an object or material which is associated with your desired outcome, and place it in or above the door frame. Traditionally horseshoes were hung in this way to pour luck on those who entered. This is another situation where amulets hung in doorway can be useful, particularly if people are willing to touch or handle the objects as they come through.

A slightly sneakier method might be to paint or inscribe a spell into the door handle, so that a person HAS to handle it to enter, or building your spell to be charged and renewed by the act of using the knocker or doorbell, if it’s intended to drive off unwanted guests, or help visitors.

Directing the threshold:

The threshold, like any other magic, can be channeled and directed. The most common use would be directing the threshold’s protections to include or exclude a particular person, either helping guests feel comfortable and “at home” or making a resident feel unwelcome and vulnerable in their own home. This is most easily done by the homeowner, or head of household, The person with the most authority within the home, and is typically linked to their will, though an explicit statement of intent from this person goes a long way.

Another means of warping the threshold is to have objects or tokens which can be carried outside, bringing a bit of home with you, and therefore bringing a bit of the protection of home as well. This can be tricky, usually requiring some degree of sympathetic magic and thaumaturgy (ie. the use of a small part of a thing to represent the entire thing such as using a chip from the fireplace bricks to represent the hearth, or a shaving of wood from a doorframe to represent the door itself,) typically these tokens are either single use, or must be maintained by restoring them as part of the home upon the person’s return. Removable tiles from a floor mosaic, or a distinctive knob from the cabinets work well for this purpose, as they are small, unique, and easily reattached.

anonymous asked:

Do you have a list of YA books that don't feature romance as a main plot, only as a minor/background sub-plot involving other characters? As an aromantic and asexual teenage girl, it would be really nice to read a book in which it isn't the main focus and not feel like a freak of nature for once. Thanks!

Editor of YA Interrobang here! First of all, you should never - ever - feel like a freak of nature. Half of Team Interrobang is on the asexual spectrum, including me, and there are plenty of authors who are asexual or aromantic or both, even if it’s not something they actively discuss. (Take Katie Locke, for instance, an author on the asexual spectrum whose debut YA novel hits shelves next year.) You are not alone, and you are no more a freak than I am.

But time to answer your actual question! Here are some books with as little romance as possible or no romance:
- A Thousand Nights by E.K. Johnston
- Vessel by Sarah Beth Durst
- The Lie Tree by Frances Hardinge
- Archivist Wasp by Nicole Korhner Stace
- Tunnel Vision by Susan Adrian
- Seven Second Delay by Tom Easton
- The Walls Around Us by Nova Ren Suma
- The Rithmatist by Brandon Sanderson
- Me and Earl and the Dying Girl by Jesse Andrews
- This Savage Song by Victoria Schwab
- A Study in Charlotte by Brittany Cavallaro
- Radio Silence by Alice Oseman (out in UK now, releases in US in March 2017)
- On the Edge of Gone by Corinne Duyvis
- I Am Princess X by Cherie Priest
- Iris and the Tiger by Leanne Hall
- Lucy and Linh by Alice Pung (releases in September)
- Challenger Deep by Neal Shusterman
- The Fixer by Jennifer Lynn Barnes
- Rose Under Fire by Elizabeth Wein
- Nobody’s Princess by Esther Friesner
- You’re Welcome, Universe by Whitney Gardner (releases 2017)
- and many, many more, but if I keep going my fingers will break

Here are some books with specifically asexual characters:
- This Song Is Not For You by Laura Rawlin
- Fourth World by Lyssa Chiavari
- Ultraviolet + Quicksilver by R.J. Anderson
- The Beast of Callaire by Saruuh Kelsey
- Make Much of Me by Kayla Bashe
- Deadly Sweet Lies by Erica Cameron
- We Awaken by Calista Lynne
- As Autumn Leaves by Kate Sands
- Every Heart A Doorway by Seanan McGuire (a personal favorite)
- We Go Forward by Alison Evans
- Tash Hearts Tolstoy by Kathryn Ormsbee (releases 2017)

Tristina Wright’s 27 Hours, which releases in 2017, has a character that is both asexual AND aromantic.

And here are posts on YA Interrobang that may be of interest to you:
- Calista Lynne talks about sexual representation in YA
- Adrianne Strickland talks writing as a genderqueer asexual
- Julie Daly talks asexual representation in YA (with recs)

Happy reading!
- Nicole ( @nebrinkley ), editor

Memory 2/2

Second half of my week 6 prompt. 

Find part one here.

Look for the cut!

Tony woke in his bunk. The boat wasn’t just rocking up and down, side-to-side, it was spinning. He was cold and too exhausted to shiver, and he hadn’t zipped the bag up before falling asleep. His left side was even colder than his right, almost numb from his elbow to his shoulder. He struggled to get his arm back into the bag, but he couldn’t reach up to catch the zipper.

“Mr. Stark,” a gravelly voice intruded.

Tony was startled by the voice, but only long after the chance for an appropriate reaction had passed. He twisted to look up the captain. Man looked bigger than ever, or Tony felt smaller than ever. His eyes were very blue against the deeply lined leather of his skin, and he had surprisingly long lashes.

“You need to see the physician,” the captain said firmly.

If there was anything Tony was truly startled about, it was that he’d woken in his own bunk and hadn’t just been taken to medbay while unconscious. He couldn’t remember anything after finding Steve in the ice. Finally, finally finding Steve in the ice.

“Where’s St-… Captain America? Where is he?” Tony asked, more than half dreading being told that it was all a dream, that he’d missed the expedition and they hadn’t found anything anyways.

The captain pursed his chapped lips. The motion made his whiskers bristle out like an annoyed cat. Tony tried to laugh, but the only thing he managed was a vague vibration against his chest. He pulled his knees up slowly, ignored the pain in his hips, and fought to kick out of the sleeping bag.

“Where is he?” he repeated.

Shaking his head, the captain said, “He’s in lab 2. Mr. Stark… Just go to the medbay.”

“No,” Tony said with no heat. He couldn’t muster up the energy for heat, didn’t have a warm molecule in his body. He stumbled off the bunk, and expected the captain to help him stand, but he didn’t. The giant man stood and crossed his arms over his chest. Tony caught the bulkhead and looked at him, but he only shook his grizzly head.

That was fine. It wasn’t like he hadn’t struggled down a hallway by himself before.

(Had Steve carried him out of a building? He thought so, remembered in kaleidoscope fragments being insensible on the floor, the scent of smoke, Captain America’s arms supporting his knees and back. He remembered being carried down a fire escape.

He remembered Steve stepping into his arms and the two of them flying off together. Steve’s weight low on his spine as he flew with Captain America on his back. The sound of Steve’s voice, whooping in childish joy and urging him faster.

He remembered crawling on his knees through his room, shedding pieces of the armor as he went, feet away from the nearest outlet. It might as well have been miles, and there were people just down the hall. Steve, Jan, Hank, Thor – No, Steve, Clint, Natasha, Thor. All he had to do was shout and someone would come to help him across the last few feet to the outlet. He’d crawled on his own, and reached the outlet just in time, just like a dozen other times.)

There was no arc reactor in his chest, but he felt heavy all the same, like he needed a charging port. His joints ached. He pinballed down the corridor, avoiding the shadowy forms of crewmen who had names (everyone did) but he couldn’t remember them.

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“Something Old Something New” Moving & Cleansing Spell.

A sort of two in one spell post. One part is to help sell a living space and the other part is a way to cleanse your new living space when you find it.

Originally posted by contemporist

What You’ll Need

  • A white candle (to open up good energies in the new space)
  • A black candle (to cleanse the old space of negativity)
  • A spray bottle
  • Moon water
  • Sun Water
  • Salt
  • Beach/River sand
  • Lavender
  • Cinnamon
  • Aloe juice
  • Acacia ashes
  • African violets
  • Agrimony

What to do for the old living space

  • Light your black candle in the old living space and put a pinch of salt and sand in the corners of it.
  • Put your cinnamon, ashes, lavender, and moon water in the spray bottle and shake it.
  • Once you feel like it’s mixed spray the corners of your apartment again and say/think “You have gave me a place to live but now is the time for me to move on. Energies aid me in finding something new and keep this space nice for the next.”
  • Blow out your black candle.
  • Once your apartment/home/living space sells clean up your sand and salt.

What to do for your new living space

  • Now, when you get to your new space light your white candle and put pinches of salt and sand in the corners again.
  • Take your sun water, African violets, argrimony, and aloe juice and place it in the spray bottle; shake well.
  • Then take your spray and spray your corners say/think “I bless this space, for this is my new home. May it give me comfort in my stay.”
  • Blow out your candle.
  • Salt your windows and sand your doorways.
Oh Fuck (Part 1)

Prompt: “You’re absolutely in love with him and have been for at least 2 years if you don’t go tell him how you feel I swear to god I will” by @writing-prompt-s (17 from this post)

Pairing: Cassian Andor x Reader

Summary: You’ve been given a week to confess your feelings. Unfortunately, you seem to be an utter coward when it comes to love.

Tags: fluff, light-hearted angst (what else do I know???)

Notes: I’m a terrible human and I’m not even going to apologise for how long it takes for me to write, like honey ik… ik. Also, I should be commended for not using ‘YEET’ because there were at least 3 places where I could’ve. There’s gonna be a second part to see what happens 😝

Word Count: 1,476

Part 2

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On the Edge

The product of my two hour flight: Hiccup and Astrid have the base to themselves. It’s a little bit naughty, so the link to the rest is below. It’s. Just. Fluff.

“Hiccup? Are you in – oh.” Astrid stops short in the doorway of Hiccup’s hut. He’s there, of course, working by the light of the fire of his forge. He’s banging on what looks like a connecting rod for Toothless’ tail, the metal ringing throughout the hut so loudly that he hasn’t heard her. This means she has a few moments in which to watch him.

Because he’s not wearing a shirt.

The muscles – slight but defined – that are usually hidden beneath his tunic are tense as he lifts the large hammer and brings it down again with an effort that makes his back shine with sweat. It doesn’t escape her notice that he actually can lift a hammer now.

Toothless notices her, and he raises his head and croons. Hiccup stops, looking at Toothless before following the dragon’s gaze and noticing Astrid, still sanding by the doorway. “Astrid!”

“Oh! Hi – I, um…” But Astrid has lost her words again.

Because now she’s staring at his chest.

I just had the thought of Tony in a Captain America snuggie — one that he got custom made (of course). Just sitting down and relaxing in it, watching Saturday morning cartoons with a huge bowl of ceral in his lap as part of his normal, super secret Saturday morning routine. 

And then Steve coming home from his run an hour early, swinging open the door and Tony just leaping off the couch to try and hide himself, but tripping over the snuggie and just lying there bunched up like an accidental burrito, unable to get up when Steve just sands in the doorway and stares at him confused wondering how odd that sight is – yet how adorable. 


I built my theories based on @andthenkpophappened‘s theories (x) and @jenosgf‘s theories (x) !! I suggest reading their theories first before mine

My theories are also ultimately built on the idea that everything is just a dream, so I’ve gathered some stuff as well as analyzed things through a dream interpretation point of view. I honestly tried answering some questions but really, I made some more lol rip…

1: SM_NCT # 1. The Origin

  • The first thing we see is an hour glass, but instead of two bulbs like usual, there are three. This could hint towards the notion already addressed that this story does not follow Earth time.
  • The very next peculiar thing we see is a red moon/a blood moon. In dreams, blood moons usually mean, or are associated with fear of the future; of the unknown. (Perhaps fear of what could happen once they realize that everything is just a dream?)
  • The little boy plants a red flag. Red flags are usually warnings signs about danger or a problem. It could also be a symbol of a revolution. 
  • After the little boy draws on a piece of paper with charcoal, three mountains, a moon, and an ocean, we see glimpses of him standing in what looks to be a field of tall grass. Dreaming of tall grass is a warning to the dreamer to not become entangled in unreal ideas, and bring order to thoughts and behavioural patterns (just like jumping from one dream to another). It can also mean illusions and unattainable hopes. 
  • A woman appears behind him, in my opinion, could be his mother. 
  • She extends her hand and makes him choose between three colours, 

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Cold Room/Root Cellar

We’ve retrofitted an already cold, north facing room of our cottage to act as a cold storage area for fruits, vegetables, preserves, ferments etc. A place to store our harvests.
Light is excluded, the room insulated, a cold air source is piped into the room from outside. The flooring is tiled and we have a marble countertop which stays super cool. The temperature stays around 0°C - 6°C with a humidity reading of between 80 - 95 %Cold Room/Root Cellar

I wish I didn’t feel so empty.
—  I postured my heart to envelope kisses I couldn’t seal in the back pocket of happiness to write a line of dreams we let dry in the rain. Sometimes I have dreams of kissing the doorways you’ve walked through. Sometimes I keep the sand from your touch to have something fall through my hands at goodnight. Sometimes there isn’t enough left of the bridge to rebuild from, but the stars keep shining because you’re made of wishes I haven’t met yet, and the only thing brighter than the night is your smile. We’ve hid in the clouds for so long, the seasons can’t find the vein we last missed. Every day is a song that pleads with strength I don’t have to hurt. But, I don’t need poetry to tell you your heart is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever held.
[Mark] I'm Your Teacher (Part 25)

You slipped into the blackest clothes you had, which were a black hoodie, with a very loose hood, black skinny jeans and black shoes, everything that could make you disappear in the night. Taking only your phone you got out of your house, telling your parents you were going to see your best friend for an hour.  You walked around your house and went to your backyard, along the white fence that separated your house from Jimin’s. Using the lawn mower as a stool, you jumped over the fence without any problems, landing in Jimin’s garden. You retraced you steps and walked to the side of his house, where his bedroom and your parent’s would face each others.  You razed the brick wall, trying to reach the old tree that could lead you to Jimin’s window. 

Feeling something bump into your shoulder you recognized the widow frame of the kitchen’s window. Right before you took a step forwards to walk to the tree that was right in front of you the kitchen lit up and you heard footsteps inside, making you freeze and stick to the wall. The light died almost a minute after.  You walked to the tree and climbed up easily, since you have been doing this since you were nine. You were as skilled as a monkey and quickly made your way up the tree. Without any problem, you jumped off the tree and landed on the big eave under Jimin’s window, thankfully it was open enough for you to slid your tiny fingers under the window and lift it up. You fell into his room arms firsts, finishing in an forwards roll, you felt like a James Bond girl.  The room was dark, and you couldn’t even see yourself. You took your hood off and pulled your phone out to enlighten the room. 

‘I did it! I’m in!“ You sent a text to Mr.Tuan as planned. Right after you pressed the 'send’ button, you heard footsteps coming towards you. You panicked and hid under Jimin’s bed, crawling on the floor until you were sure your feet were invisible. You swear the sound of your heart pounding against the wooden floor could be heard as the footsteps got louder and closer. The lights went on and you stopped breathing.  Humming along some old song Mr.Park dropped Jimin’s folded and ironed clothes on his bed. 

Her foot ghosted around the bed and landed in front of your eyes and you let out a strangled gasp as you tensed up. You heard her walk away and your muscles relaxed a bit, until you felt your hone vibrating in your rear pocket,  Since it wasn’t in your front pocket, against the wooden surface the sound was barely audible over her humming but what startled you was that she immediately stopped humming, the sound dying as her footsteps froze. She walked past the bed a closed the window before leaving for good, making you sigh loudly. Before crawling out from under the bed you checked your phone. 

'Great Y/N! He’s ID is and the password is cbk485ml' 

 Your legs were still shaking from the adrenaline when you got up, rushing towards Jimin’s computer and turning it on. You sat down in from of his computer screen, tapping nervously on his desk as his computer seemed to take forever to work. You opened Google chrome and logged in his email box: Mr.Tuan had sent the email/ You opened it and downloaded the file before opening it.  The screen started encrypting and you knew it had started to erase everything he had in his computer. You didn’t wait for the virus to proceed and took the box in his drawer before going out, opening the window and sliding out carefully. You put the box in your pocket and put your hood back on before jumping back on the tree. Right then the lights in Jimin’s room went on, making you turn your head towards the window. He saw you and gasped. Not wanting to waste time you jumped off the tree, it wasn’t that high.  

 You landed on the grass and got surprised by a gasp behind you. You turned around and saw Jimin’s mother, her hand over her mouth in the kitchen. You didn’t think twice and began to run away, hearing Mrs.Park scream for help. You couldn’t even make it to their mailbox that you heard Jimin’s father storm out of the house. 

"Stop right here!” Jimin’s father yelled. 

“Stop or I shoot!” You heard him say, freezing immediately. You turned around, raising your hands in defense and saw Jimin’s father sanding in the doorway, pointing his rifle at you, Jimin and his mother standing behind him. 

 "Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot me!“ You panicked, taking your hood off to let them see your face. 

"Y/N?!” They all said in union.

“What are you doing? Why did you sneak into our house?"Jimin asked, walking pat his dad who was still pointing his gun at you.

"I deleted them!” You yelled as Jimin walked to you.“Deleted what?” He asked.

“All those pictures you had of me! I deleted it all!” You said.

“What? What pictures?” His mother asked.

“Mom, dad, can you leave us for a minute? Put this away, please.” Jimin pleaded, turning around to look at his father who was slowly putting his gun down. 

 "No, we both need an explanation for this!“ His mother protested.

"I’ll explain it to you just please leave us alone!” Jimin insisted.

“No need to, you jerk! I’m leaving, and we’re over!” You said before walking away.

“Y/N wait!” Jimin yelled, running after you. You ignored him, walking fast until he grabbed you by the arm.

“Y/N! Baby, wait.” You jerked your arm out of his grip.

“Don’t call me baby!” You yelled.

“You have no right to call me baby, I’m not your girlfriend anymore! Don’t try to talk to me, don’t even try  to give me excuses, I don’t want to hear you!” You pointed your index at him, your anger bursting out under the form of hot tears threatening to fall out of your enraged eyes. 

 "Y/N please listen to me.“ He pleaded.

"NO! I don’t want to! Just get out of my life!” You replied before starting to walk away again. 

 "Y/N Y/N I know I messed up, but please listen to what I have to say!“ He pleaded, tugging at your shoulder.

"What you have to say doesn’t change the fact that you took those embarrassing pictures of me, and blackmailed Mr.Tuan, making me hate him for no reason!” You yelled, stopping walking to face him.

“ Just why did you do that?!” You asked, your voice cracking as your throat tightened under the weight of the sobs that were about to escape your mouth. 

“Because I fell in love with you!” He replied.

“If you loved me you wouldn’t have done that! All you did was lying to me every single day!” You yelled.

“No, no I didn’t lie when I said I loved you. I truly love you Y/N and that’s why I went too far, because I wanted you to love me back but I knew it wouldn’t happen unless you stopped loving Mr.Tuan.” He explained, leaning down as he looked at you in the eyes, his hand on his heart in proof of sincerity. 

“ I know I messed up big time but-" 

"How did you even take these pictures of us?” You cut him off, not wanting to hear his excuses.  He didn’t really want to answer that question, he knew it would make you angrier and all he wanted right now was to be forgiven. But he also knew he should be completely honest with you if he wanted to get a chance to get you back. He sighed deeply, keeping his mouth shut for a while.

“You remember Mr.Tuan was married before.” He asked-stated.

“Yeah.” You nodded.“He must’ve told you that her ex wife had hired a detective to discover whether he had an affair or not.” He said and you nodded again.   

 "I was the detective.“ He confessed."WHAT?!” You said, dumbfounded. 

“But how-" 

"I’m good with computers and I know how to be discrete so…” He explained and you smirked in disbelief looking up at God for some kind of holy help.

“The first day I started school here I was supposed to deliver the pictures to Mr.Tuan’s ex wife” He said, catching your attention again.“but when I talked to you that day I fell for you. But I knew you and Mr.Tuan were a thing so I-”

“You decided to make a hell of his life.” You cut him off.“I’m sorry Y/N; I know what I did was wrong.” He said.

“Yeah, so you understand that I don’t want to see you again.” You replied, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Yeah, I understand but-" 

 "Good then.”

anonymous asked:

There's this scenario in my head where after the gigantic sand castle is built (from the Sand Castle short), Fushimi goes to further inspect it at night while everyone's asleep. He's just entered the castle when he suddenly notices Munakata by the entrance. Munakata offers that they explore the castle together, and for some reason even unknown to Fushimi himself, he agrees. Besides the sand castle, what do you think they'll talk about?

Oops I fic’d.

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Surely Heaven Waits For You

(on AO3)

Dean opens his eyes to a brightness. It surrounds him all encompassing, glowing and he squints, shielding his eyes; trying to see where he is. He can’t see anything at all, just bright, white light. He feels like he’s looking into the sun or an angel’s lost grace. There’s an odd sort of calmness that hovers around him when the light brushes against his skin and he feels peaceful.

Dean wonders if he’s dreaming, he must be.

He closes his eyes, squeezing them shut as tightly as possible. He waits for a few seconds, willing himself to wake up. Dean reopens his eyes and nope, still too bright. Maybe he’s not dreaming?

“Sammy? Cas?” Dean yells, panic starting to flood his body. If he’s… wherever the fuck he is, where’s Sam and Cas?

“Hello?!” Dean yells again, straining his ears to listen for any sort of response.


Dean hastily stands to his feet, eyes raking over the incandescent white ground. He can see a little better now, his eyes having adjusted to the light. The ground beneath him is tiled and he reaches down, brushing his fingers across it. Stone, maybe some sort of marble. Huh, fancy. He takes a look at his feet and finds he doesn’t have any shoes on, that’s odd. He glances around and it’s nothing but the shining brightness, he can’t even tell if he’s in a room or even if he’s on earth. He wracks his mind, trying to remember what happened before he woke up here.

The last thing he remembers is going to bed the night before. His arthritis had been acting up all day and even walking with his cane hurt his joints. He’d decided to go to bed early and hope that the pain would lessen by the time he awoke the next morning.

Dean glances down at one of his hands, there’s no wrinkles. There definitely should be wrinkles, he’s seventy-eight years old. Turning his hand over, he brushes his fingers over his palm and the top of his hand, smooth, no age lines. What the fuck? He rolls up the sleeves of his shirt grabbing at his healthy, smooth, freckled skin in awe. Dean awkwardly lunges forward two steps. His bones don’t hurt, nothing hurts, and he feels like he’s thirty-five again.

He’s young again.

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Sand, everywhere (Anakin Skywalker Imagine)

“Y/N!” Anakin yelled, causing you to cover your mouth so he wouldn’t hear you laugh. It was Anakin’s birthday, and as his (secret) girlfriend, you had decided to surprise him. By filling his whole entire room up with sand so only his hand was above the course surface. 

“Yes Ani?” you grinned, poking your head through the doorway to see him trying to shovel his way out. Sand was still in his hair, covering his clothes, and making his room look like an abandoned tomb in the middle of nowhere. 

“What type of a birthday gift is this?” he whined, making your roll your eyes. Sometimes you wished that you could actually hit him with a lightsaber just so that he’d shut up. 

“It’s the gift from your girlfriend, because I’m an amazing and wonderful human being,” you laughed, digging your way through the room so you could sit next to him on his sand covered mattress. “It’s not my only gift though,” you pull out a plate from behind your back, a small chocolate cupcake sitting on it. Anakin smiled, settling down beside you after finding a comfortable spot on the sandy bed. You handed him the plate, trying not to laugh as you watch the expression on his face. 

“Did you seriously write ‘SAND’ in big letters on my cupcake?”

“I thought you loved sand,” you spoke sarcastically, causing him to lightly punch you in the shoulder. “Happy Birthday Ani,” you smiled, looking up at the man you loved. Anakin put the cupcake down on a mound of sand acting as a table, and leaned down pressing his lips to yours. You closed your eyes, savoring the moment as he pulled away, looking at you like he was seeing the sky for the first time. 

“I’m so madly in love with you, I won’t murder you for getting me sand,” he grinned, wrapping his arm around you as you laid your head on his chest. 

“I love you too. And I’m still getting you sand for your next birthday.”

“I somehow still love you Y/N.”

Cameron Dallas Imagine-#6

Cameron Dallas Imagine- #6

Request- Can you please do an imagine where I’m Cameron’s girlfriend and a vine too, and also part of Magcon and I have depression and self harm because of the hate and one of the boys notices and tells Cam?

(contains content that could be triggering)

‘’BYE!” Cameron yelled one last time, waving to the fans. Soon he took hold of your hand as you went back to the hotel rooms with the guys (and Mahogany). You made sure to keep your hoodie sleeves pulled over your wrists, where fresh cuts were made yesterday. Everyone always said you had the perfect life, you had almost 2 million followers on vine, you were apart of Magcon, and you were dating freaking Cameron Dallas. But, they didn’t see what happened behind closed doors. You loved Cameron but the hate was too much, everyday comments flooded in on your twitter, instagram , vine, any social media site. Sometimes even in public. Cameron knew you struggled with depression, and the hate didn’t help. You felt like there was nothing to resort to, you knew you couldn’t tell Cameron. It would break his heart to know what his fans said to you. You felt like you didn’t have anyone to talk to, you didn’t think anyone would get it.

As you were walking back to the hotel, side by side with the boys, you pulled out your phone. Of course you had more then 20 notifications from Instagram, Twitter, etc. but you skimmed through them to find almost all of them were negative. The boys had planned to go out to eat, but you honestly had no interest in running into fans. So you made an excuse, “I’m going to back to my room, I’m so tired.” You said, dragging out the ‘so’. “Ok, I’ll see in a bit babe. Are you sure you don’t want to come?” Cameron asked, pecking your lips. You smiled, “Oh I’m fine, I just need some rest, but thanks.” You waved said goodbye to the rest of the boys (and Cameron) and headed back up to your large hotel room. Which, you shared with Cameron, Matt, and Carter.

You unlocked the door to the room, and plopped down on your bed. You pulled out your phone, and couldn’t help but scroll down your Twitter timeline. Which, of course had many hate comments. One after another, they kept coming. Once in awhile there would be sweet comment, which would make you smile. But, always another hurtful comment would push you over the edge. You told yourself not to cry, 'These people aren’t worth it’. But you couldn’t help it, the tiny tears soon turned into loud sobs.

You got up from the bed and went into the bathroom. You yanked open one of the sink drawers, to reveal tiny razors wrapped in tissues. You pulled them out and say on the bathroom floor, shoving your hoodie sleeve up your arm. You were about to connect the razor to your skin, when you thought you heard the room door open, and then footsteps. You froze, to see Matt sanding in the doorway of the bathroom. “Oh I um- hey Matt,” you said stuttering. Trying to shove the blades in your back jean pocket. “Hey (Y/N), I um came to get my phone. And, I heard noise in the bathroom so um-” Matt shifted awkwardly, you wondered if he saw you. “Oh yeah I was just ya know using the restroom, no biggie.” You said, uncomfortably. “You were using the restroom on the bathroom floor?” He asked, raising his eyebrow. “Um well I like to try new things, so you should probably leave now.” You got up off the floor, hoped Matt couldn’t see your tear stained cheeks. “Yeah, see you (Y/N).” He said, walking out of the hotel room.


“(Y/N) I’m back!” Cameron yelled opening the hotel door. “Hey, where are the other guys?” You asked getting off the bed. “Oh they’re down in the hotel lobby with fans, I came up here because I need to talk to you.” He said, smiling faintly. You suddenly knew what it was about, Matt saw. And Matt told Cameron.
“Why didn’t you tell me (Y/N)?” He asked, he voice cracking. He pulled up your sleeve to reveal cut marks going down your wrist. You gulped, and began telling Cameron about everything that had been bothering you. Once you had finished you realized you were crying. You looked up at Cameron, who had watery eyes. “I’m so sorry (Y/N), I didn’t know it was this bad. And I want you to know that I’m here for you,” he said. Pulling you closer and kissing your cheek. “And I love you so much,” he added. Turning you head as that your lips met his.

(A/N): Tysm for 315 followers! It means a lot! If you ever need to talk about anything please feel free to ask me! If you want an imagine please say which boy you want and a short summary! :)