finding exactly what you want

❇️ How to Adjust a Spell ❇️

sometimes you come across a spell and it’s not exactly what you want. sometimes you can’t find the spell you need and there’s only spells that are only sorta what you need. 

❇️ To enchant an object with the intent of the spell

involve the object in the spell. for example, 

  • if it is a jar spell you can charge the object in or around the jar
  • if it is a candle spell, you can pass the object though the smoke
  • gather and direct 

❇️ For a very specific spell becoming generalized

dissect the spell, and figure out what is making the spell focused on a singular event, area, or person, and remove that element. if removing that element makes the spell difficult to complete, you can 

  • burn the ingredients and spread pinches of the ashes for influence
  • combine in a traditional candle spell
  • combine in a traditional jar spell

❇️ For making a general spell focus on a specific person

find an element of the person you wish the spell to affect, a representative object, and combine with the rest of the ingredients. this can look like:

  • burning ingredients together to ash
  • binding with thread
  • combining inside a jar
  • use in a candle spell
  • etc

❇️ linked guide on replacing/substituting ingredients ❇️

Love in Colors

☇  soulmates au

genre: soft angst and light fluff

pairing: taehyung // you

word count: 7,034

warnings: people have said they needed tissues but………

Description: Lost as an artist, you travel around in order to find yourself. Then you meet Kim Taehyung - a stranger, a friend, and your soulmate. Only you don’t remember him but he remembers you.

A/N: ahaha i decided to post this a day earlier :) i’m pretty proud of it, so i hope you’ll like it!!

I met my soulmate before I was conceived. we were nothing but constellations composed of dying stars. before the supernovas consumed us, he told me, “Don’t ever feel alone in the years to come. You may have your doubts, but we’ll collide again. They say the universe is infinite, but so is love.

As an art major, you have always been interested in the order of the world and its complex design, a nexus of colors and lights, hopes and dreams, fears and failures, completed with intricate beings that are both so fragile and so strong at the same time. It confounds you when you realize how every single being on this Earth has a story behind themselves. You have learned to appreciate the masterpieces produced by various artists, sculptors, photographers, and musicians alike, their interpretations and impressions always having an impact, leaving you in deep thoughts and moments of stillness afterwards, the final note ringing in your mind or the picturesque landscape imprinted beneath your closed lids. Perhaps this is how the child-like wonder always makes its appearance in your paintings.

Yet you are still searching for yourself and the kind of art that will make you up in the coming years in a world that is so big, a constant cycle of criticism and judgement. You spend nights alone under the starlit skies, agonizing over the smallest of details, dozens and dozens of shredded and crumpled papers thrown around.

To put it simply, you are utterly lost.

You always knew that being an art major was risky; the chances of being actually successful were low, and you were nearing graduation from your arts college with nothing in your portfolio. But from the first time your young, chubby one year old fingers touched the cool, slick paint and stained themselves across paper, you were completely immersed. The urge to draw was something you could never resist, even if you wanted to, and the talent came naturally.

You’ve never, in the ripe years of your life, had an artist’s block, always listening to friends go on and on about them, but you’ve always had inspiration. That is, until now.

You find yourself unsatisfied, constantly comparing your own paintings to those of Van Gogh’s or Monet’s, feeling that none of your pieces of art were alive enough. None of them were spirited or lively, and though yes, they were good, beautiful even, they did not convey the emotions you wanted the audience to feel. Anyone could be an artist that draws, but not every artist could move people. To become truly successful, one had to fully understand themselves to produce the art that they desired, and that was just what you were missing.

The constant strive for perfection is what echoes in your head day and night, and finally you have enough of it. Your friends too, suggest that you take a break and walk the world for a bit, and maybe then you would gain inspiration.

That is how you end up in the Louvre Museum in Paris, only you are still as stuck as ever, and your trip is quickly coming to an end, with only a few days left.

“Yeah, I know,” you sigh into your phone. You are wandering the museum, absentmindedly looking at the works. Nothing really strikes your eye.

“Y/N, seriously though,” comes your best friend Yoongi’s voice. He is the one that understands you the best, the drive for perfection in himself rivaling yours. A pianist, he gives himself up completely to the music. “Don’t get so stressed out. It’s okay if you have to stay another year.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” you finally snap. “You’ve already gotten a couple offers. I haven’t even sent out my portfolio.”

The other side of the phone is quiet. You only hear the soft crackling of his breath.

“Sorry,” you say softly, a little bit guilty for raising your voice. “I’m just - I’m about to just give up. You should understand me, Yoongi, this feeling of imperfection that doesn’t satisfy me. There’s this constant spotlight in my mind, like my end goal, and I’m so close but there’s just this little stretch that I can’t reach. What if I really can’t find myself?”

“Y/N,” Yoongi says quietly, “these things can’t be rushed. The more you rush it, the more locked your personality gets.”

Keep reading

Wrong Place Wrong Time (10)

Part 10 of an ongoing series, enjoy :)
A fanfic for a more Mature audience due to violence and language. Read at your own risk :)

Themes=😖,🌟,💣,🎭. (☠️- Harm towards characters and Strong language.)

Summary: You end up in the wrong place at the wrong time and it has negative repercussions. Main characters include: Reader and EXO.

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3 Part 4  Part 5 Part 6  Part 7 Part 8 Part 9  Part 11  Part 12  Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Part 18  Part 19  Part 20  Part 21  Part 22  Part 23  Part 24  Part 25  Part 26  Part 27  Part 28  Part 29  Part 30  Part 31  Part 32  Part 33  Part 34  Part 35 (Final)

Word Count: 3,137 

“He has a fever. I guess I kept him out for too long even though he was complaining he wanted to get back. I’m so sorry.” You swallowed hard kneeling down beside Yixing and avoiding Minseok’s eye contact. You decided to lie in favour of Yixing and you didn’t know why, you didn’t owe him anything, you didn’t even know him that well yet here you were, lying through your teeth even when you knew the consequences would be severe especially coming from Minseok.

“You asshole!” He screamed, “Who do you think you are, since when was a stupid little shopping trip more important than Yixing’s health. I’ll rip your throat open next time, so don’t count on being alive for much longer you stupid bastard. Now help me get him to his room.” You nodded quickly, stretching one of Yixing’s arms around your shoulder, whilst Minseok took the other.
He looked slim but his dead-weight was surprisingly heavy and you were struggling to keep up. You were relieved when you finally reached Yixing’s room dropping him onto his bed and pulling the sheets over him. Luckily he was wearing black so the blood that began to slowly seep through his clothes was hardly noticeable.

“I’ll look after him.” You said to Minseok hurriedly trying to get him out of the room, so you could take a look at Yixing’s torso.

“Damn right you will! You’re lucky you’re tending to him right now, or I would’ve killed you already. When he’s better I’m coming for you bitch!” There was rage in his eyes as he jabbed you in the chest with his index finger. You swallowed hard knowing that what he was saying was not an empty threat, it would take a miracle to keep you alive now. Giving you one last stab in the chest with his finger, he turned on his heel and left the room mumbling obscenities under his breath. You hurriedly rushed over to Yixing’s side throwing the bed sheets onto the floor and pulling his shirt up towards his chin. The bleeding had gotten worse, you had to do something and fast, but you didn’t know what you were doing.

“Okay breathe.” You said slowly to yourself, “You’ve watched crime scene and surgical dramas enough times, you’ve got this.” It was time to try and use your common sense, you rushed out of the room leaving the door slightly ajar. You ran to the bathroom to grab a towel and filled a small bowl under the sink with hot water, rushing back stealthily to Yixing’s room.
“Ahh antiseptic…” You reminded yourself but not knowing where you could find any of the medical solution, you still didn’t know where Baekhyun’s make-shift surgery was. You had to think of a substitute, and then it came to you, running out of the room you found yourself in the kitchen pulling a bottle of Vodka down from the wine rack.

“Alcohol? And at this time of the day? Really?” you spun around to see Jongin leaning against the fridge raising a brow at you.

“I’m umm… This house is making me depressed so I’m aiming to drown all of my sorrows.” You lied, tucking the bottle under your armpit and making your way to exit. Jongin shrugged his shoulder, not really bothered about what you had to say.

“Aren’t you forgetting a glass? Surely you’re not planning on drinking all of that?”

“That’s exactly what I plan on doing.” You hurried out of the kitchen and back down to Yixing’s room. He’s breathing was still shallow and he was a ghostly shade of white; he looked ethereal but in the most disturbing and sickening way, a way which made your skin crawl. Kneeling on the floor you set about disinfecting the wound with hot water and alcohol. Yixing was knocked out cold and couldn’t feel the burning sensation of the treatment, all for the better you concluded. When you were confident enough that you had disinfected him properly you ripped off the bottom of his bed sheets and tied it around his rib-cage tightly, so as to apply pressure to reduce further bleeding.

“Now I’ll have to stitch this up.” You whispered to yourself. Opening up the desk draws and frantically searching for a needle any type of thread you could get your hands on; anything would do even if it wasn’t strictly ‘surgical’. Suddenly you heard whistling approaching the room from outside. You quickly pulled Yixing’s top down, throwing the bed sheets back over his body. And threw the bottle of vodka and bowl of bloody water under the bed, the bowl spilling over under the mattress as you did.

“Oh for fucks sake, not again.” You whispered angrily, getting up off of your knees and straightening your back.

“Yixing are you o–. What are you doing here?” It was Junmyeon; he had what looked like a cup of tea in his right hand a bowl of soup in the other.

“Oh I um, I told Minseok I would look after him, since there’s nothing else to do here anyway, he’s got a fever so yeah…” You trailed off. Junmyeon nodded his head walking towards the desk and placing the tea and soup down.

“Well make sure he has these when he wakes and…” His eyes trailed down to your hands, frowning at you, “Why do you have blood on your hands, what happened?

You quickly hid your hands behind your back “Oh this…I umm… I –I had an accident.” Saying the first thing that came to your mind you edged away a bit, but Junmyeon stepped closer to you grabbing your hands in his.

“What do you mean you had an accident!?”

“I uh… It’s that time of the month.” You hung your head in embarrassment, but it’s the only logical excuse you could think of.

“Oh. Ergh.” Junmyeon said quickly dropping your hands and looking disgustedly at the remains of the blood on his hands. “You should go clean up Y/N…” he said awkwardly looking at everything in the room but you.

“Yeah I was just going to.” You said walking towards the door and him following behind you.

“I’ll umm…I’ll go and tell Chanyeol to buy you some … supplies.” He held his hands out limply in front of himself so as to not get any of the blood on his body.

“No! There’s no need, me and Yixing went today, we stayed out a bit too long, I guess that’s how the fever got worse, I’m sorry.”

“Do you cause trouble everywhere you go?”

“It wasn’t intentional. And no, I just seem to have bad luck in this place.” Junmyeon grunted at you as you both entered the bathroom, turning the taps with his elbows, he began to scrub away at the blood on his hands as if his life depended on it, it was quite a funny sight but you had to hold in your laughter. You then took a moment to wash your hands after he had finished. He cleared his throat looking directly at you as you both stepped outside of the room and stood at the door, you sensed a bit of worry in his expression.

“So… Yixing…how bad is this fever?” He bit his bottom lip nervously awaiting the news. You didn’t know how long it would take for this wound to heal and so you decided you had to make this fever seem much worse than Junmyeon thought it was.

“It’s quite bad actually” You lied “He’s knocked out cold, and I reckon he’ll be really weak for a while when he’s recovering but I don’t think it’s anything fatal, well I hope not.” Junmyeon let out a heavy sigh, shutting his eyes tightly and running his hand down his face.

“Not another one, I can’t keep losing my men. I can’t keep losing my brothers.”

“Losing? Look in all honesty I think Yixing will survive just give him some time that’s all.”

“Time is exactly what I don’t have!” He banged his fist against the wall, making you jump a little. “I shouldn’t even be talking to you about this shit.” He mumbled to himself in frustration. You shrugged your shoulders.

“Well I don’t see why not. You need to get some things off of your chest right? Besides it’s not like I can run away with the information, you guys have made it very clear that you’ll just kill me if I try, so I might as well serve some purpose.” He nodded a little, taken aback by your answer but it didn’t disappoint him either. “Look Yixing will be in a lot of pain when he wakes up; I was wondering if you had any painkillers or something?”

“Why would he be in pain?”

“Oh uh… you know a migraine or symptoms as such. It would just be much more comfortable for him to feel as though he’s knocked when he’s actually awake.” You mentally scolded yourself for nearly giving away the truth.

“Oh right. There’ll be some in the Op room, follow me.” Realising he was taking you to where Baekhyun worked his magic, you made sure you stayed close behind. He took you to a dark corner of the house behind the board room that you hadn’t noticed before. “Be careful, it’s dark.” He said bending over and pulling aside a rug, which gave way to a hidden door built into the floor, lifting it up, Junmyeon slowly started to descend the metal spiralling stair case, you following closely behind, he was right it was dark. There was only one light leading the way, but it wasn’t doing much good.
“Here.” He said tapping on a metal door in front of the both of you. “I’m sure you know what happens in here so I don’t need to explain. I don’t know exactly what you want, but once you find it get out straight away and don’t make noise. Jongdae needs to rest in peace.” Your eyes widened.

“Wait. Is Jongdae in there?” He nodded. “How…how is he?” You weren’t sure you wanted to know the answer, but as you’d been reminded twice already in the short time that you had been here. Curiosity killed the cat.

“Pfft.” He scoffed “Alive. Though he may as well be dead with the condition he’s in.” Junmyeon turned on his heel and disappeared back up the stairs. You let out a small breath of relief, as that meant you didn’t have to prepare yourself to see a dead body lying in state, you thought that he had meant that Jongdae was dead when he said he needed to rest in peace, you didn’t know he meant it literally. But you had just assumed Jongdae had died anyway, especially with the amount of blood that had coated Kyungsoo’s hands the night before. Slowly and carefully you opened the heavy door stepping inside the room and shutting it behind you trying not to make a noise. This room was much brighter than the space outside. Big white lights hung from the ceiling shining on all the instruments in the room, how had they managed to sneak all of this medical equipment into this place? You thought to yourself. It smelt heavily of antiseptic in here and it brought you back to the time when you had had your tonsils removed. You looked over to your side and saw Jongdae laying on bed, as pale as Yixing, but his breathing was more defined, it seemed as though he was recovering well. You crept over quietly to the shelves and draws on the left side of the room looking for some disinfectant.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh shit!” You screamed almost knocking over a tray of scalpels and scissors next to you. You spun around to see Jongdae staring at you and it was probably one of the scariest things you had seen, it was as though a corpse was staring into your face, he looked dead and his eyes were bloodshot red.
“You scared me!” You held your hand against your chest; your heart was beating wildly against your breast bone. “I thought you were asleep.”

“You thought wrong. You and Junmyeon woke me up. What are you doing?” He asked again in a lower tone this time.

“Oh… I just needed antiseptic for the uhh… cut on my neck”, you pointed at the faded scar that Minseok had left behind. Jongdae frowned at you, blinking slowly it was evident that he was still extremely weak.

“Why would you need antiseptic for that, it’s basically healed?”

“I like to take extra precautions.” You answered hurriedly trying to get him off your back.
He turned his neck painfully slowly to look at the bed beside him, his eyes widening in shock.
“Where is Yixing?” he asked

“What? What are you talking about?” You stopped looking for the disinfectant for a moment and stood still, turning around to look at Jongdae again.

“Yixing. He should be here, where is he?” There was slight confusion and panic in his voice, he turned his head back again to look at you waiting for your reply.

“I don’t understand what you’re asking me. Why would Yixing be here? You’re the only one that’s been here the whole time.”

“No he should be here! He was attacked too, I saw him, and he got wounded. What happened? Don’t tell me he didn’t make it.” His voice fell flat and began to falter. “I didn’t know it was that serious…”
Here comes another lie, you thought to yourself.

“Yixing is fine, he’s in his room listening to music, I think you made a mistake.”

“No! I know what I’m talking about! He went down first then I went down after, I saw it!”

Just then the door opened. It was Baekhyun in a black tracksuit, drinking some water from a bottle. He almost spat the water out when he saw Jongdae’s eyes open.
“Jongdae! You’re awake!” he cried, rushing over to him and planting a kiss on his forehead.

“Oh for fuck sake Baekhyun stop that.” Jongdae rolled his eyes, but you could tell that he was happy to see Baekhyun there.

“I didn’t think you’d make it man, none of us did. I should probably go and tell the others that you’re awake. I—” He spun round in excitement just noticing you. “Wait what are you doing down here?” He frowned, then looked down at his feet, avoiding your eye contact.

“Oh I, I just came to get some painkillers, it’s that time of the month. Junmyeon brought me down here.” You decided that going that route was best, since it made the boys feel awkward and they stopped asking questions.
Jongdae frowned at you.

“But you just told me that –”

“I’m sorry about what happened Baekhyun I didn’t mean to fall asleep in your room and see…you know.” You cut Jongdae off before he could finish his sentence.

“We don’t need to talk about that don’t worry.” He shuffled on his feet uncomfortably still not looking at you. Jongdae frowned in confusion.

“Baekhyun, where is Yixing, did you treat him already?” Jongdae asked

“What? What are you talking about, treat him? I heard he had a fever but I didn’t treat him, I think he’s just asleep”

“Fever?” Jongdae said confused looking at you. “But you said –”

“That’s what I tried telling him Baekhyun, but he wouldn’t listen, honestly I think he’s still heavily under the influence of anaesthetic.” You laughed nervously, cutting off Jongdae again.

“No.”Jongdae pouted “No I know what I saw, Yixing he was wounded, I saw it he should’ve been treated where is he, why isn’t he in here!?” Baekhyun glanced over at you confused and you pulled a face back at him.

“Y/N’s right, I think that anaesthetic is still in your system, get some rest Jongdae I’ll come check up on you later.”With that Baekhyun opened the heavy metal door and ascended up the stairs to the main part of the house.

“Why did you cut me off like that and why are you telling me and Baek two different things? What do you know Y/N and what the heck are you doing down here?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Grabbing the anaesthetic from the shelf and needle and some thread that you had spotted, you began to walk towards the metal door.

“I swear, if you don’t tell me what you know, I’ll get Minseok to twist a knife in your throat, and you know he’ll do it, so don’t you dare take another step closer to that door. Just because I can’t stand up it does not mean that I still don’t have power over you.” He let out a little whimper of pain; he was putting too much strain on his body.
You walked back up to Jongdae pushing your fingers hard down on his throat to slightly constrict his breathing, you don’t know what came over you but suddenly you felt a wave of power and control.

“Listen ‘Chen’ whatever it is that I am keeping from you I’m doing it for a reason, so leave me the fuck alone I’m tired of you pricks all bossing me around and speaking down to me however you feel fit.” He struggled to breathe his eyes popping out at you, desperate for some air. You removed your fingers from his windpipe and pulled down the sheets covering his body. You pulled up his hospital gown revealing a gunshot wound to his abdomen. It was raw and fresh and you knew it was extremely painful. You put the things you were holding down on the bed beside you, covered Jongdae’s mouth with one hand and pressed your fingers onto the wound with another. Jongdae screamed out in pain, but the cry for help was lost between your fingers, besides you were so far below the others you doubted that they’d be able to hear him.
“I know you have power over me Jongdae I’m not an idiot, I haven’t forgotten. But right now I have power over you.” You smirked coldly down at him. “I could cut your stitches you know, have you bleed to death all over again without the others knowing. How does it feel Jongdae? Being powerless, being told that you could be killed any second. Horrible feeling isn’t it? I can relate. You pricks do it to me all the time. So back off and leave me alone.” You removed your hands away from Jongdae’s wounds and mouth, causing him to take a sharp intake of breath, retrieving the items from the bed. You walked towards the door opening it.

“Oh, and one more thing Jongdae. I’m not a whore.”

anonymous asked:

Any tips for anyone starting to make a game? (on rpg maker)

I’ll try and divide this into parts because I feel it’s a very important topic to talk about and I think this ask will help people out there hopefully~

On scope:

Firs things first, check this comic by Yanfly-senpai. Yanfly is a God around here, you should worship this person!

Well, I’ll use this project of mine as a good example of a cool starter project with a tiny scope. I did this thing in 2 days with RTP, 2 dungeons and 30 min of gameplay. The scope of the project is pretty simple! It goes like this:

First cutscene > town > dungeon > town (you play with the villain crew here for a little twist) > dungeon > Final boss > town (final cutscene)

It’s a very silly project, but its structure could teach you a thing or two about finishing a first project and not pushing yourself too hard on making a game. Your first project doesn’t have to be sublime and amazing with 3449808598 side quests and elaborated events with a story brimming with personality and cool assets. It just have to be finished, polished and work out well without closing out of nowhere. Also: Be wary of jams, they can seem awesome for a first project but can also make you feel very depressed if you can’t complete it in time! Work on your own pace.

Fiddling with the engine:

The first thing you have to do is: Play with the program, do stuff without a purpose. Create a NPC, make a dialogue. Create another NPC, make a battle. If you enjoy making maps, fiddle with it, but do it yourself. Don’t spend too much time on tutorials, it will make you feel overwhelmed at first, and eventually even make you give up. Just fiddle with the engine! Make something buggy. Wonder why the bug is there. Fix the bug. Go on! If you want to find a tutorial, search exactly what you want, because you won’t find otherwise, there’s too much content out there, so be very specific!

Working from a tiny scope to a larger one:

Try to work your way with limitations, for example, don’t use plugins or external plugins on your first project. Don’t make assets. Don’t search for free songs. Take the most out of the engine. When you do a lot of that for your first project and have some more experience with the engine, I recommend you to draw on top of RPG Maker’s assets to see how they are made! You don’t have to do all by yourself either, if you write cool stories, but can’t draw or make good songs, you can ask people to help you. The community is amazing, and always willing to help! Starting small is the best way to go!

You just have to find something worth your while, something that will make you really sad to go to sleep, because you won’t be able to work on it. Something you’re so obsessively passionate with that you won’t see the time passing, even if you’re doing something really boring on it. Or just do something, even if you aren’t proud of it at all. Be shameless, really. There’s a 90% of chance of your first project to be garbage. Mine was! A LOT! So, just do it!

I hope this helps you. ;)

anonymous asked:

Hi! I just saw your recent edit for BTS festa and it's amazing! Do you mind telling me which editing app you used? And how you made the background? Thanks and have a good day❤️

anonie said: Hi~ firstly I LOVE YOUR EDITS SO MUCH THEY’RE SO BEAUTIFUL AND ARTISTIC AND AESTHETIC IM- THANK YOU FOR THISSSS I was wondering if you could give me the name of the app or programme that you use to make these edits! I’m a beginner, and I would love to learn to make edits as nice as yours! Thank you in advance and I hope you have a good day❤️❤️

Beauty Is the Mystery of Life.pdf

Beauty Is the Mystery of Life
by Agnes Martin
When I think of art, I think of beauty. Beauty is the mystery of
life. It is not in the eye, it is in my mind. In our minds there
is awareness of perfection.
We respond to beauty with emotion. Beauty speaks a message to
us. We are confused about this message because of distractions.
Sometimes we even think that it is in the mail. The message is
about different kinds of happiness and joy. Joy is most
successfully represented in Beethoven's Ninth Symphony and by
the Parthenon.
All artwork is about beauty; all positive work represents it and
celebrates it. All negative art protests the lack of beauty in
our lives. When a beautiful rose dies, beauty does not die
because it is not really in the rose. Beauty is an awareness in
the mind. It is a mental and emotional response that we make. We
respond to life as though it were perfect. When we go into a
forest we do not see the fallen rotting trees. We are inspired
by a multitude of uprising trees. We even hear a silence when it
is not really silent. When we see a newborn baby we say it is
beautiful – perfect.
The goal of life is happiness and to respond to life as though
it were perfect is the way to happiness. It is also the way to
positive artwork.
It is not in the role of an artist to worry about life – to feel
responsible for creating a better world. This is a very serious
distraction. All your conditioning has been directed toward
intellectual living. This is useless in artwork. All human
knowledge is useless in artwork. Concepts, relationships,
categories, classifications, deductions are distractions of mind
that we wish to hold free for inspiration.
There are two parts of the mind. The outer mind that records
facts and the inner mind that says "yes" and "no." When you
think of something that you should do, the inner mind says "yes"
and you feel elated. We call this inspiration.
For an artist this is the only way. There is no help anywhere.
He must listen to his own mind.
The way of the artist is an entirely different way. It is a way
of surrender. He must surrender to his own mind.
When you look in your mind you find it covered with a lot of
rubbishy thoughts. You have to penetrate these and hear what
your mind is telling you to do. Such work is original work. All
other work made from ideas is not inspired and is not artwork.
Artwork is responded to with happy emotions. Work about ideas is
responded to with other ideas. There is so much written about
art that it is mistaken for an intellectual pursuit.
It is quite commonly thought that the intellect is responsible
for everything that is made and done. It is commonly thought
that everything that is can be put into words. But there is a
wide range of emotional response that we make that cannot be put
into words. We are so used to making these emotional responses
that we are not consciously aware of them until they are
represented in artwork.
Out emotional life is really dominant over our intellectual
life, but we do not realize it.
You must discover the artwork that you like, and realize the
response that you make to it. You must especially know the
response that you make to your own work. It is in this way that
you discover your direction and the truth about yourself. If you
do not discover your response to your own work, you miss the
reward. You must look at the work and know how it makes you
If you are not an artist, you can make discoveries about
yourself by knowing your response to work that you like.
Ask yourself, What kind of happiness do I feel with this music
or this picture?
There is happiness that we feel without any material
stimulation. We may wake up in the morning feeling happy for no
reason. Abstract or nonobjective feelings are a very important
part of our lives. Personal emotions and sentimentality are
We make artwork as something that we have to do, not knowing how
it will work out. When it is finished we have to see if it is
effective. Even if we obey inspiration we cannot expect all the
work to be successful. An artist is a person who can recognize
If you were a composer you would not expect everything you
played to be a composition. It iss the same in the graphic arts.
There are many failures.
Artwork is the only work in the world that is unmaterialistic.
All other work contributes to human welfare and comfort. You can
see from this that human welfare and comfort are not the
interests of the artist. He is irresponsible because his life
goes in a different direction. His mind will be involved with
beauty and happiness. It is possible to work at something other
than art and maintain this state of mind and be moving ahead as
an artist. The unmaterial interest is essential.
The newest trend and the art scene are unnecessary distractions
for a serious artist. He will much more rewarded responding to
art of all times and places – not as art history but considering
each piece and its value to him.
You can't think, My life is more important than the work, and
get the work. You have to think the work is paramount in your
life. An artist's life is adventurous: one new thing after
I have been talking directly to artists, but it applies to all.
Take advantage of the awareness of perfection in your mind. See
perfection in everything around you. See if you can discover
your true feelings when listening to music. Make happiness your
goal. The way to discover the truth about this life is to
discover yourself. Say to yourself, What do I like and what do I
want? Find out exactly what you want in life. Ask your mind for
inspiration about everything.
Beauty illustrates happiness: the wind in the grass, the
glistening waves following each other, the flight of birds – all
speak of happiness.
The clear blue sky illustrates a different kind of happiness,
and the soft dark night a different kind. There are an infinite
number of different kinds of happiness.
The response is the same for the observer as it is for the
artist. The response to art is the real art field.
Composition is an absolute mystery. It is dictated by the mind.
The artist searchers for certain sounds or lines that are
acceptable to the mind and finally an arrangement of them that
is acceptable. The acceptable compositions arouse certain
feelings of appreciation in the observer. Some compositions
appeal to some, and some to others.
But if they are not accepted by the artist's mind, they will not
appeal to anyone. Composition and acceptance by mind are
essential to artwork. Commercial art is consciously made to
appeal to the senses, which is different. Artwork is very
valuable and it is also very scarce. It takes a great deal of
application to make a composition that is totally acceptable.
Beethoven's symphonies, with every note composed, represent a
titanic human effort.
To progress in life you must give up the things that you do not
like. Give up doing the things that you do not like to do. You
must find the things that you do like – the things that are
acceptable to your mind.
You can see that you will have to have time to yourself to find
out what appeals to your mind. While you go along with others,
you are not really living your life.
To rebel against others is just as futile. You must find your
Happiness is being on the beam with life – to feel the pull of
Birds of a Feather

Part 3 of Little Lost Soul

2150 words

Warnings ~ Negan language, bit of angst (reader is selectively mute), no smut in this part

I’m sorry if you wanted to be tagged and I didn’t, I have a new phone and need to get my list off of my old phone.

Tags are at the end. Want on or off my taglist? Just drop me a note!

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Change Your Life... As You Sleep

”Tonight, find out exactly what you – not what they think you ought to want – what you want. Ask no one’s permission. You don’t need any one’s permission; you only need your own decision. What do I want? Now, what would it be like if it were true? Now catch the mood, and try to give that mood all the sensory vividness of reality – all the tones of reality, and then sleep in it just as though it were true. And then await the inevitable.” - Live In The End by Neville Goddard.

anonymous asked:

Hi, I'm an 18 year old trans girl that still lives with her parents. I really want to come out and start living as myself but I'm scared. Rationally I know I have no reason to be afraid, my parents are nothing but supportive of my gay uncle and have never said anything bad about trans people, but I can't bring myself to come out. Every time I try I panic, wondering if they'll hate me or throw me out. Do you have any advice on how to get over this fear?

Eden Says:

Unfortunately, even if your parents are supportive people in general, it takes a lot of courage to actually come out, and chances are if you’re afraid now, you won’t be getting over that fear anytime soon. Heck, even when you manage to come out, you’ll likely be terrified as you do. The best advice I can give you is to minimize the fear, not to get over it.

My suggestion would be pretty much to do what I did- write an email. While letters are well and good, I find that it’s much easier to put together exactly what you want to say in a typed format, and it’s much easier to hit a send button than to slip the letter under a door, much less hand it to them. 

Honestly, for me, while I was still absolutely terrified, it was enough that I managed to get it done. If anyone else has other suggestions to minimize the fear in this, absolutely add them on, but that’s my big suggestion.

Hot Showers and a Pillow That is Too Damn Soft

The bed is warm. I can’t quite recall how we got here. It’s all a big haze of soft kisses, entwined fingers and giggly conversations in the back seat of the Uber. I do remember their fingers sliding around mine at the restaurant, holding hands across the table while I got too excited about the waiter bringing us the post dinner cheese plate. Their dark eyes watching me as I messily cut into the brie and tore bread and dipped the cheese coated knife into the fig preserve. I remember laughing at my reflection in the window, red wine stained teeth matching my dark lipstick but making my glittery eyeshadow look stupid. But I don’t remember how many steps lead up to the apartment. I don’t remember anything before my hungry kiss at their front door.


The pillow behind me is too soft. Full of feathers and I honestly don’t understand how anyone can feel supported by it. It’s making me angry. Who has these stupid pillows, don’t the tips of the feathers scratch you while you sleep? I try to focus on something else but the only thing to pop to mind is that they are naked and in the shower. Naked and standing there, slowly rubbing suds all over themselves. Naked and letting hot water roll off their body and slip down the drain, imagining all of their negative energy flowing away. I have to think about something else. Naked and wet and I’m on their bed waiting for them to emerge with steam pouring off their shoulders and a half wet towel draped around their waist.


Why didn’t we shower together? This is so stupid. It’s too soon for us to share that much intimacy, but I’m here on their bed waiting. I’m here thinking about their firm body pressing against mine.


Oh they’re out, the water is off and they emerges towel draped and steaming, just like in my imagination. It’s my turn. This is awkward, why didn’t we just shower together! I step past them, their still damp arm brushing against me as I walk past. The door closes softly and I lean against it for a heart beat, imagining him doing the same thing. Ugh that’s so lame how ridiculous.


I let the water run before stripping, my skin shivering in the cool air of the bathroom. Arms crossed over my chest I let the water run through my hair and down my back. All of the bottles of goop in their shower look the same so I squirt the best smelling one onto my hand and suds up my body. Hard nipples slip between my fingers as I slide my hand over my wet body, imagining them feeling me. My back presses against the cold tiles sending a quiver down my spine. Fingers soaping myself up, running over my stomach and thighs and stopping just short of the heat between my legs.


How long have I been in here for? Why did I wet my hair it’s going to take forever to dry off? Fuck. I turn the tap and reach for a towel, smelling of the hot sun I assume that it dried in earlier that morning. Their sink is clean and tidy. A black toothbrush, a well used razor and a tube of toothpaste squeezed within an inch of its life. I remember my red wine teeth and breath and lick toothpaste off my finger with my tongue, swish it around and swallow before opening the door.


They laugh. Deep, guttural. I must look like a drowned rat. I tousle my hair in the wet towel they’ve hung over their bedroom door and they lift the sheet and tells me not to worry about the wet hair, “just get in here quickly I miss you.” YUCK that’s so fucking lame but stupid me can’t help jumping on the bed soaked towel and all to get under that sheet as quickly as possible. I untangle myself from the many layers of sheet and towel and lean my body against them. A forehead kiss, a kiss on the tip of my nose an electric feeling in my pussy jolts and we are making out. Slowly, luxuriously, gently.


They rolls me onto my back, and removes the towel between us. Lips on mine, my thighs open and legs wrap around their waist. They’re naked and I can feel it there, half hard and growing.


A little growl, ‘don’t move’ and my neck is arching towards their lips as their fingers hold my arms above my head. They kisse the dip in my elbow, my forearm tingling as their tongue flicks against my skin. Then their tongue strokes down my bicep, skipping my underarm. Their teeth nip at my collarbone, the following kisses getting softer and tickling just enough to have me wriggle against their strong hands holding me still.


My hands are released and I grip that soft useless pillow just as they take my hard nipple in their mouth. Swirling tongue eliciting a soft gasp from me and those strong hands grip my waist. Sucking gently, teeth catching and the heat between my legs growing before they start to focus on the other nipple. This time it’s teeth first, they look up at me, tugging at it. My eyes close, my hips twitch. Cupping my full tits the teasing starts, each nipple in turn as my nails dig into the downy pillow. Lips against the soft skin of my stomach, solid hands spreading my thighs apart their short nails scratching at me.


Cheeky caresses close to my pussy, fingers leaving me aching and gasping and making pathetic pleads for their mouth to be on me. My eyes shut tight ‘look at me’ soft whispers against my inner thigh and I glance down just in time to see their tongue dip into my warmth.


My hands find the back of their head as their tongue finds my clitoris and that electric shock inside me hits again and my hips lurch towards them. Beard scraping against my freshly showered thigh, they licks and suckles all the while locking their eyes with mine. Their forearm across my lower stomach holding me steady, fingers smoothly finding the opening between my legs and deftly gliding into me. Their mouth is persistent and kind, my thighs tightening around their head and my hands slowly guiding their mouth to my sweetest spots. Eyes shut tightly again I fuck their face with my wetness and let their fingers find that perfect zone , that area that once pressed leaves stars in your eyes and forces a dull squeak from your throat.


Waves of pleasure roll through me, toes curling, thighs gripping their head and heart pounding as I orgasm, leaving their lips chin and fingers glistening. Their body presses against me and I feel it again, hard. Lips on lips, tasting that sweet salty honey, tongues probing trying to find out exactly what we both want. ‘Did you just make your cock dance deliberately?’ I ask as they throb against my still tingling pussy. Laughter, they smother my mouth with theirs. Soft strokes as they rub against me, pressing into me, making my back arch.


A soft laugh escapes their lips and I pull their lips to mine, scratching against my face. They press into me harder, slipping the head of their thickness into me. A whimper. They pull out and slip back into me ‘I want you to be aching for me the way I’ve ached for you since we left that restaurant’


I’m so wet, maybe the wettest I’ve been in months. I don’t want to open my eyes because I know the burning lust in their will drive me over the edge. Their fingers dig into my tits and finally, after minutes of teasing me with the tip of their cock, they push deep into me.

I feel my nails press into their shoulders. Deep moans into my mouth, slides their hands down to my waist and starts fucking me.


My hips lift up and I grind against them, forcing their dick as deep as it can go. Legs around their waist pulling us together I reach down and rub my clit with my fingers. They push my hand away and their thumb starts stroking me while they drives themselves in and out. I beg, I’ve never begged before but I beg for them to let me cum. A nod, a short terse nod as they grit their jaw and I cum for the second time tonight.


They slow down, pulling nearly all the way out and untangles my legs from around their waist. The tip of them teasing me once again, so thick and threatening to slide out of me. Hungry kisses, I can still taste myself on their tongue despite the desperate pashing we did earlier. They slide their hand, that warm strong hand up and presses their fingers around my throat. Forearm between my tits and their other hand holding my hip down they slide that thick hardness into me.


I beg them again. I beg them to choke me, to grip my throat and hold me tight until they cum for me. My nails leave crescent moons in their back, short shallow red welts from lust and pleasure. They start to squeeze, gently at first. My mouth opens and they grin down at me before squeezing slightly harder. I buck my pussy up to meet them as we fuck. Holding me down, fingers pressing up under my jaw. A gasp, another moan and they holds this solid strong deep rhythm until I beg one last time for them to cum for me.


A lip bite, one more deep thrust in and they pull out of me. I rub my clit and watch them stroke their length while their eyes stay focused on my still shaking breasts and they blow. Their cum lands in ropes, white hot and sticky across my stomach and tits. A drop on my chin, one in my hair. Their shoulders shake, catching their breath and they try to lay on top of me before realizing the sticky situation we would both be in.


The giggling starts. Breaths are short. Tissues are passed between us and then discarded on the floor to be dealt with a little later. My ass against their crotch, our bodies tight against each other. Deep breaths, minutes pass. I do a little snore, fuck. Laughs and kisses tickle the back of my neck and we sleep.


I still don’t remember how many stairs lead up to their apartment and I ended up with that shitty goddamned pillow.

Fairy Lights - Woozi

Author: Admin Lilly
Genre: fluff fluff fluff
Words: 1678
Summary: It’s a snowy day and you and Woozi go out on a date to see the fairy lights :-)
A/N: This was requested, so sorry that it took me so long. I hope you enjoy, if you have any feedback or more requests, let us know!

Originally posted by kittykatkwon

You were initially busy when you looked out, but soon dropped everything when you saw the thick snowflakes dancing down like little fairies. They powdered every surface and you saw most faces in the street tilting upwards in delight, others hurried a bit more quickly as they felt the snow melt on their skin.

You instantly phoned your boyfriend Jihoon.
“Hey, how about we have our date now?” You asked, still looking out of the window, still immensely excited about the white bits whirling around in the air.

“What do you mean now?” Jihoon asked, confused.

You pulled the curtains over your window and started walking through your room, away from your window. “Well, I mean now as in now. It’s snowing and this might be the last snow of this year. I haven’t yet gotten the chance to go out and just enjoy it, this would be the perfect opportunity.”
“Wait, it’s snowing?” He said in surprise and you heard him crack his neck and shuffle towards the window. “Oh, you’re right!”
You chuckled softly. “Why would I lie to you about that?”
“To get me outside maybe,” He said and you heard the grin that played on his lips.

“You should get out! I bet you’ve been working all day again… Have you even eaten?” You plopped down onto the bed and put all your concern in your voice so he would know how much his well-being meant to you.

“I have… I guess. You know I tend to forget. And I’ve been completely loaded with work… But I guess I can take a break and grab a bite to eat with you,”
You squealed softly and answered. “Alright, stay where you are, I’m picking you up. Give me like 20 minutes.”

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Good for You

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You/Suga

Rating: PG-13 (excessive drinking)

Word Count: 1,851

Summary: Your ex (Jimin) shows up with his new girl at a party and you get drunk, leaving your friend (Suga) to take care of you, even though he actually likes you himself. Fluff, non-smut.

Originally posted by yoongbeans

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Creating Visual References for Your Character

A visual reference is a picture of a person, place, or thing that an artist can refer to while drawing to ensure that they’re portraying something accurately. Often, a visual reference doesn’t represent everything in a given piece of artwork, but just one or two aspects of it; for example, an artist who is commissioned to draw someone else’s fictional character might have one reference for the character’s body type, a different reference for their hairstyle, and a third reference for their outfit - and often even more than that! While not every artist uses visual references for their work (and even those who do probably don’t use them for every single thing they draw), they can be an extremely useful creative tool…and as a writer, they can help you, too!

I often find that I struggle to describe something in words if I can’t see what it looks like first. Even if I’ve imagined it over and over again, sometimes the right words just won’t come. If you struggle with the same problem, using visual references can help you, too. They give you a picture to look at so that your brain can connect your mental image with the words to describe it. Even if you can’t draw, you can create and use visual references. Below, you’ll find a list of some of the resources I use for creating, finding, and saving visual resources to work from, and tips for how to use them.


  • Dollmaker websites: I know, I know. It can be so hard to find the right skin tone or the right body type or the right whatever, because a lot of dollmaker sites default to very slender models with exaggeratedly feminine features, and there are so few out there for men. However, a dollmaker can be a good start when you’re just trying to get a feel for a new character’s style. Need ideas for how they might wear their hair or what kind of clothing they like? Maybe a dollmaker is for you! I like Azalea’s Dress-Up Dolls, Doll Divine, and Rinmaru Games.
  • Polyvore: Okay, so you have a pretty clear idea of your character’s style, but you just can’t find any outfits that fit their look! That’s okay, friend - Polyvore has your back. On Polyvore, you can find TONS of different pieces of clothing, hairstyles, makeup, accessories, and more, and you can use those things to create unique looks that suit your character’s style. You can save your outfits to your profile and go back to them whenever you want, and you can even automatically pin them to a Pinterest board so that they’re right there with all of your other visual references. I also use Polyvore to give me an idea of what brands or types of clothing my characters can afford; the self-made millionaire might be able to afford a $2,000 designer dress, but the college student working her way through school probably can’t afford to splurge on that. Since I have a tendency to give my characters ridiculously elaborate outfits, Polyvore makes for a useful reality check!
  • Video games with character customization: These days, there are a lot of games out there that allow you to decide what your character looks like. I’ve always preferred using games from the Sims franchise, but I’ve also used various MMORPGs. The upside to this is that, depending on the limitations of the game, a lot of the time you can get a character who looks exactly like what you want. The downside? Games cost money, and a lot of them have a LOT of limitations - finding curly hair, for example, might be night impossible, and a lot of so-called ethnic hairstyles aren’t executed well (or don’t exist).
  • Real-world pictures and projects: Sometimes you just want to get crafty, or you need something to do that doesn’t involve staring at a computer screen. I hear you. Listen, a visual reference can be just about anything you can look at that helps you with your descriptions, so if you want to draw a stick figure, make a collage out of magazine pictures, or make macaroni art of your character, you go for it. These are all valid ways of figuring out the right words to use!


  • Google: The Old Faithful of finding what you’re looking for. You don’t even need to know exactly what you want: you can search for words like “short hairstyle” or “pink dress” and come up with a ton of images. Google can also help you find sites that collect images of what you’re interested in, like the ones I’ve listed at the bottom of this article. If you don’t want Pinterest results, make sure you add ‘-Pinterest’ (minus the quotes) at the end of your search to lock them out. I know they annoy some people because you can’t view them without a Pinterest account.
  • Pinterest: Speaking of, Pinterest really is one of the best places to find a lot of images really quickly. You can search for almost anything on Pinterest, and you’ll probably find it. You can also find infographics that can show you different varieties of the same thing. I use these a lot for things like describing the neckline of a shirt or the way a tie is knotted.
  • Stock photos: Yeah, I know, most of them are ridiculous…and those watermarks! But there are free stock photo sites out there - you just have to look around a little to find one you really like. The biggest downside to stock images is that when it comes to people, it can be hard to find pictures that aren’t cheesy, insulting, or just plain weird, but sometimes it can be worth the effort to check.
  • deviantArt (and other art sites): There are LOADS of people on dA who take pictures just for people to use as visual references, especially poses or facial expressions. Again, it can take some work figuring out exactly what to search for, and you will have to scroll through a bunch of irrelevant results, but it can really be worth it. Make sure you have safe search on, though, or you might end up seeing more than you bargained for.
  • Real life: You probably have a camera or a camera phone, right? Get out there and use it! Go to the mall and snap pictures of clothing your character would wear, or places you’d like to write about, or that amazing sunset you saw driving home, or whatever else you think might be useful. Take pictures of your own face to practice describing facial expressions. Get friends to act out the scene you’re trying to write, or make a gesture you’ve been struggling to capture in words, and take video. The whole world is out there, so don’t be afraid to take inspiration from it! Just be sure to ask before you take pictures of anyone, okay? It’s important to be polite!


  • Pinterest: This is absolutely my favorite way to save references. If you love pictures, Pinterest may be the place for you. Make a board for your character and use it to pin facial features, hairstyles, clothing, body types, expressions, aesthetics, you name it! If you can find it in an picture, you can pin it to your Pinterest board. Just make sure you label the things you pin so that you know why you saved them - more than once I’ve pinned something and then gone back and couldn’t figure out what I wanted it for. Pinterest is great when you want to be able to see all of your visual references at a glance, or when there are a lot of them. It’s also good for people who create on the go - I have it on my phone and use it when I’m out of the house and waiting around for things to happen. I honestly can’t recommend Pinterest enough for this purpose.
  • Tumblr sideblogs: Use a theme that allows you to have multiple columns of posts visible and you’ll be able to see everything at once! Of course, if you want things you find elsewhere on the Internet to show up as pictures, you have to download them to your computer first and then re-post them (don’t forget to add your source!) so that they’ll show up. Honestly, that can be pretty inconvenient, so I’d say this one is best for those who find most of what they want to use as references on Tumblr.
  • Browser bookmarks: If you only have a few references, you might just want to bookmark them in a folder on your browser! You won’t be able to use them if you swap computers (unless you have something that synchronizes your bookmarks) but every browser out there has a bookmark feature, so you’re not required to sign up for anything or purchase anything to use it.
  • Download them: I kind of think of this as an “if all else fails” suggestion, like if you’re afraid that a certain image will be taken down or you can’t save it any other way. You can usually right click on an image and click “save as” to save it, or copy it into a program like Microsoft Paint and save it that way. Just make sure you know where you saved it to!

Remember, there are lots of other ways to create, find, and save visual references, so you have to find the ways that work for you. Don’t limit yourself to this list - dig around and see what you can find! I hope this serves as a good jumping-off point for you, and maybe inspires you to see what using visual references can do for your writing. Good luck!


Stockholm Syndrome // E2!Cisco (Reverb) x Reader

Request: Reverb smut where he holds you as prisoner, while you’re held in the cell of his lair you act like you hate him but he can see you and him having sex in the future, so he slowly teases you until you give in?

Warnings: foul language, intense smut, E2 Cisco being an asshole but like a hot one though and also dare I say kinda sweet?? Also ANGST WOW.
A/N: there will totally be more of this plot line tbh

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1. I learned that you begin to love yourself when the person who was supposed to love you, breaks you.
2. It’s okay to miss those that broke you, but do not go back.
3. Flirt. Go on dates. But don’t settle. Find exactly what you want or continue to be single.
4. Spend time with friends, especially those that you have in high school. When you go to college, you’ll regret not making memories with them.
5. Listen to music that makes you want to get up and dance, even if all you want to do is fall apart.
6. Form a stronger bond with your family. They are going to be the ones who will always be there for you.
7. Focus on school. Even if it’s bringing you down or stressing you out, it’s worth it in the end.
8. But also make time for you and for some fun. Balance is key.
9. It’s okay to be alone. Sometimes you’re luckier that way, so you can’t hurt anyone and they can’t hurt you.
10. Understand that everything happens for a reason. To help you grow and mature as a person, you need to go through the good and bad. It’ll be okay. It’s time for a new year with new problems, people, and lessons. You’ve got this.
—  snuggsndoods
Please Don’t Look At Me Like That. [Jax Teller x Reader]

[ @homicidalteenagedream request: Jax Teller / ‘Please don’t look at me like that.’ & ‘Seeing you like this, it breaks my damn heart.’ with smut.]

From the beginning you had told Jax that it was a bad idea to give you a gun, but he and his mother had been adamant that you should have one.

For Gemma, she needed her family to stay alive and having been with Jax for so long now, you were most definitely family to her. She was the one to give you the gun in the first place. Just a small 9mm to keep in your handbag like it was just another accessory, akin to your compact and lipstick.

Jax, on the other hand, wasn’t too keen on the idea at first. He didn’t want you getting into any unnecessary trouble to begin with, but the more he thought about it, and the more the club got into deeper shit, he figured it would be for the best.

Boy, was he wrong.

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Across the Stars, Chapter 2

Prologue   Chapter 1   Chapter 2   Chapter 3   Chapter 4    Chapter 5

Chapter 6   Chapter 7  Chapter 8   Chapter 9   Chapter 10

An update! Yay! I hope you all are liking it so far <3 I’m having so much fun writing it! Word of warning: There is foul language and a bit of sexual content in this chapter. But, it you’ve read ACOMAF, you can definitely handle it. Please like/reblog if you enjoyed it! It’s so encouraging to receive a response! 

 Rhys leaned his head against the back wall of the hallway, staring at the door to his own apartment through his eyelashes. He was only prolonging the inevitable, he knew. She’d been furious on the phone, and he would have stayed at the diner longer, might even have actually ordered something, if only to keep an eye on that girl, Feyre, but he hadn’t wanted her to hear Amarantha screaming at him. He hadn’t wanted to shatter the illusion she had of him.

Especially as he certainly hadn’t missed the flash of jealousy and disappointment when Amarantha’s picture appeared on his phone the first time she’d called him.

And now that bitch was in his apartment, waiting to scream at him. Probably naked so he’d have a harder time fighting back. So she’d be able to use his desire against him. Five years with her, and he knew the routine.

He ran a hand through his hair, half slumping back down the wall. He should try to change the locks again. He should try to file a restraining order against her again. Not that it had worked the other times he’d done so, but…Wasn’t it worth a shot?

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I hope one day you wake up,
The sky is a little bluer,
The sun is shining a little brighter
And the pain isn’t there,
And that you remember the times I made you smile.
I hope that you find someone who loves coffee,
And sweet tea,
And makes dressing just like your mama.
I hope that they make your bed,
And that they laugh at your stupid jokes.
I hope they make you feel less lonely,
And I hope they constantly remind you of how much they love your freckles,
And your laugh,
And that weird thing you do when you sleep,
And your quirks about how to fold towels,
And your family.
I hope they remind you how special you are,
And how you make their life better just from being in it.
I hope you find someone who wants exactly what you want in life
And that you find the happiness you deserve.
And if you ever struggle along the way to that happiness,
Know that I’ll always be there for you.
—  To someone I thought I’d spend forever with.

Harry Potter lay on the floor of the Slytherin common room, his head in Draco Malfoy’s lap as said wizard carded his hands lovingly through his messy hair. A smattering of students from other houses lounged about as well, but that was nothing new. Ever since the-boy-who-lived-to-fuck-with-everyone’s-preconceived-notions-as-well-as-an-incredibly-hot-blonde-Malfoy (Draco’s words, not his) had been sorted into Slytherin five years before, inter-house unity flourished and the stereotypes and ideas were a thing of the past. All those who believed in pureblood supremacy were swiftly and mercilessly disabused by that belief the moment they met Hermione Granger, and those who stubbornly persisted found themselves faced with uncomfortable hexes from all sides and all houses. As the students who had stood top firmly rooted in such beliefs to be swayed had all graduated by now, their sixth year in, any misguided students coming from death eater families were at least questioning the views they’d been spoon fed by the end of first year, and rare was the student who hadn’t shed them completely by Christmas their second. So this is why, when Draco began his usual habit of indulging his sexual fantasies by muttering them loudly in French thinking his boyfriend wouldn’t be any the wiser, there was a second year Hufflepuff who very obviously spoke French looking horrified at the things the nice Slytherin prefect wanted to do with his mouth, and on the saviour of the wizarding world no less! So Harry reluctantly relinquished his trump card. Slytherin as he was, and as much as he’d enjoyed discovering all these little quirks about Draco and his private thoughts in secret, he wasn’t fond of letting a child lose their innocence too young. He knew all too well what THAT was like.
“Draco, love, I think you should move onto more appropriate musings. The lil puff over there understands every word.” The person being addressed stopped in shock at hearing the perfectly accented French flowing in honey-coated tones from the boy with honey-coloured skin currently perched on his lap. He felt played. And turned on. He shuddered. Best focus on feeling played for now.
“You spoke French all this time! And you didn’t tell me!” He sounded whinier than he would have liked, damn.
“Well of course love! I am a Slytherin after all. So much more to be gained when you don’t realise what you’re telling me.” And besides, here he seamlessly switched to Arabic, which had Draco feeling a previously unheard of level of arousal, “didn’t you find it a little suspicious I could always tell EXACTLY what you wanted in the bedroom.” Merlin, a young Draco thought learning Arabic was pointless, and said as much, but hearing the warm, seductive tones and annunciation that made his love sound like a sultan, he was thanking every deity that might exist that he had.
“Where did you learn all these languages?” On an impulse, this question was asked in Italian, and Harry rose to the occasion marvellously, displaying fluency so natural an ignorant bystander might have thought he was a native speaker. His rich bronze skin certainly didn’t dispute the theory.
“I was a boy who spent his childhood locked in a cupboard,” Draco felt both angry at this injustice and pleased that Harry was able to speak so freely with him about something so private, but tore himself back to the stream of Italian so melodious the people around them surely thought the-boy-who-lived was reciting a romantic sonnet instead of recounting horrendous abuse. “When I wasn’t doing chores, I’d distract myself from the hunger and the pain and the claustrophobia by learning. Dudley never went near the library, so I could take books fairly easily. It kept me sane all those years, honestly. Plus all the literature I read showed me a world outside of Privet Drive. I learned that what happened to me was abuse, and that the Dursley’s were the problem, not me. I wouldn’t have known that otherwise, and then where would I be?” Pressing a kiss to the top of Harry’s head and stroking the scars on his hand from that bitch and her blood quill, perhaps harder than necessary (rationally, Draco knew that he couldn’t just make them disappear, but his emotional, protective side seemed to insist he kept trying to just wipe them away) Draco Lucius Malfoy was glad, not for the first time, that Harry had been sorted into Slytherin.

@andallwaswell-ish @poteato-girl