fire letter

Sorry to bother, but can I just talk about ceramicists right now? and how of all the artists, they’re tied with photography in ‘concerning to the fae’? We wear iron dust like a second thought, in our hair and under our nails and dusted over our hands, stained into our skin in splashes of red iron oxide and earthenware clay. Everything in ceramics is iron, red clay and pretty much every traditional glaze, from celadon greens to brown-black temmokus. There’s a kind of transformative magic in pulling beautiful things from mud and iron and fire, but I imagine the EU ceramics department is that rare studio where red and buff stonewares and earthenwares are prized over translucent porcelain, where salt fire is used over soda. Could the Gentry even approach the ceramics building when a salt kiln was firing? The process is used less often because it throws off dangerous gasses as the salt vaporizes and glazes the pieces. I know it’s the idea of salt more than the thing, but would a salt-glazed pendant have the same protection as a packet of tablesalt? I have this image in my head of that being every basics student’s first assignment, a pendant of red-black stoneware glazed in iron oxides and salt, ceramics students rarely ‘borrowed’, less because they’re careful, and more because iron and salt have settled within incautious lungs, a fine patina of red has stained everything they own, there is iron in their shoes and salt in their hair, and the ceramics studio is the safest place in the art department, because I can’t say this enough. it doesn’t matter how careful you are, red clay dust contaminates everything in a ceramics studio, especially when everyone’s using the same clay at once. 

This is less coherent than I wanted it to be, but I just pulled my first glazed pieces of the year out of the kiln and am feeling sentimental about my concentration just now.


This is MARVELOUS hit me with that ceramics mythology I literally knew none of this and it’s beautiful

(also if you’re interested there’s a fic on AO3 involving ceramics!)

please remember there is no doctor frankenstein. he is just a boy. he skips class to piece together a body and can’t even remember to eat and sleep and when he gives life to the body he freaks the fuck out and sets the place on fire. he doesn’t answer letters and he cries all the time but he refuses to accept comfort from anyone.

who tf called him doctor frankenstein and why is he known as that he’s like eighteen years old and is a doctor of nothing but disappointment and bad parenting.


A powerful message from a fantastic movie! If you’ve never seen “The Iron Giant” I highly recommend it. <3

My letter to Marvel today

sent to

Dear Marvel,

I think somehow, at some point, someone in change there forgot the entire point of superheroes.

Superheroes give us hope. They teach us how to be human; how to be our best selves; how to be brave and how to stick up for others and for what is right. They teach us that there is reason to believe in others, and in the innate goodness of people who will step up and do good when we need it. 

We need them. And Captain America has always been the pinnacle of that heroism in marvel’s canon, going back to when two jewish men created him for the explicit purpose of fighting fascism and standing up for everything good, and for everything America had the capacity to stand for and represent, in the best version of itself. 

I remember first falling in love with Captain America as a character and a hero when I was an anxious, self-destructive teenager. Depressed and struggling, superheroes gave me hope and strength then. More than a decade later, they still do. Or they should…

Back then Steve Rogers was a man who wouldn’t hurt me. A man who I could love and respect and trust. Someone who would stand up and protect me, and others I cared for, even if only on the pages of a flimsy comic book. Steve Rogers was hope, and strength, and moral fortitude. 

And now, according to you, Steve Rogers is and always was a nazi.
Recently Marvel decided that diverse books weren’t profitable. This is bull. If Marvel is failing to profit from diverse books, it’s because the people like me who love diverse characters and wish to support these books struggle to reconcile that desire with the disgust we feel at putting money in the pockets of an editorial giant that thinks it’s “cool” and “edgy” to promote fascism for profit, and who put the short-term benefit of shock value over a 75 year legacy of a character that has deep meaning to millions. 

Yesterday, at the store, I paused while looking at a pair of Captain America sandals I’d meant to buy for my four-year-old nephew. He loves Cap, you see, almost as much as I do. But if Marvel is doubling down on the idea that Cap is a fascist nazi-supporter, then how can I in good conscience deck him out in that symbolism? 

What’s next – Tony Stark, in a “gritty twist”, turns out to be a serial rapist? That will be great to explain to every child in a plastic iron man mask come halloween. 

Maybe this will be retconned or resolved in a year or two. But the stain is there. You took something good and pure and constant, and perverted it for the sake of an event no one wanted, because we’re all burned out on the constant events and gimmicky world-wide crossover plots that get in the way of actual interesting stories. 

I know this letter will probably be ignored and that no one will ever read it through. I know because you’ve already received a boatload of angry correspondence on this topic, and have made it clear that you don’t care; it’s obvious, when Ike Perlmutter supports fascist-populist rhetoric and Nick Spencer defends Nazis on twitter, and you insist on doubling down on this insulting, stomach-churning plotline. 

But I’m writing it anyway, because it’s the one means I have (besides cancelling my subscriptions and no longer giving you my money) of standing up and speaking out. And those are the values that the real Steve Rogers taught me:

You always stand up.

And maybe, just maybe, someone at Marvel will remember that. Will remember why people love superheroes; why we need them, and need their goodness. Why in a climate of hate and fear, where fascist nationalist groups are seizing more and more political power across the western world, we need someone who will punch Hitler on the jaw instead of giving a heil salute to “Hail Hydra.”

Please, remember.

         - Someone once saved by Captain America.


Paper Planes (Lin-Manuel x Reader)

Summary: Soulmate AU where if you throw a paper plane out your window it always makes its way to your soulmate. You can’t write your full name, your location, or any contact info, anything else is fair game. It’s up to fate to bring you together.

Word Count: 1,775

Warnings: Zero proofreading. It’s strictly fluff though so you’re safe here.

A/N: This was such a cute idea and also reminded me of that one Disney short. You know the one. Also, I will jump at any opportunity I can to write sappy love notes and Lin’s messy handwriting. Please don’t ask me about logistics of this, I have no idea what happens if your window is shut and your soulmate throws a plane, I’m just here to write fluff.

Your parents had told you the story all through your childhood. They would always weave you intricate tales at bedtime about how you might meet your soulmate. Your favorite stories always had a prince playing that role. As you got older the stories evolved from fictitious plots to questions and conversations. 

You received your first letter from him at seven years old. It took you by surprise when the paper plane made of blue construction paper landed on the floor of your bedroom. You scrambled from you bed to scoop it up and inspect it. You unfolded it carefully, flipping it over.

‘ Hi! My name is Lin! ‘

You yelped as if the paper itself had spoken and ran into the living room where your mom was preoccupied with a book. She seemed to notice your panic because her eyes immediately left the pages to study your face.

“They wrote you, didn’t they?” she asked wryly with a twinkle in her eye. You squeaked out a yes, shoving the blue paper towards her. She unfolded it to see the note before chuckling. “Well, are you gonna write them back or not?”

You spent the entire night debating and when your mom came into your room to kiss you goodbye before she left for work she saw you sitting on the floor surrounded in papers. 

“For them or from them?” she asked with an amused smile as she leaned against your doorway.


Keep reading

Fires can burn themselves out eventually, but you,
You keep the window cracked and
Keep on pouring in a little bit more fuel.
Flames might be kicking at your heels
But you haven’t turned your back on me yet.
When it comes to friction, I’m an addict
And I think you might be too.
—  IRL Love Letters: Long White Cloud
Maybe it’s because I’m like a wildfire, I light a flame in the hearts of the people I meet, but no matter how bright they burn they don’t burn as fast as I do. And maybe that’s the problem, nobody can keep up with the unpredictable fire that I am. Except you know, she did. So I don’t know what’s worse, the fact that I don’t even miss her anymore? Or the fact that it’s six months later and in an effort to find someone new to burn with me, I’ve burned people instead of hearts and I don’t know how to stop.
BTS+SEVENTEEN Reaction to You Falling Asleep on Their Shoulder {Requested}

“Could you do seventeen and BTS reacting to their girlfriend falling asleep on their shoulder? Thanks!”

Here you go anon! :) (This legit took me forever lol)

Rap Monster: Would softly smirk to himself that you finally gave in and went to sleep. He would bend his shoulder lower so that your neck could be more comfortable.

Originally posted by yoonkooks

S. Coups: Would stop talking and try to maneuver his arms around you without waking you up. He’d pick you up, lay you down in your bed, then watch you sleep until he passed out as well.

Originally posted by hansols

Jeonghan: Would kiss the top of your head as you slept and whisper “I love you” into the silent night.

Originally posted by seventeeneurope

Jin:  Would snuggle in closer to you and fall asleep as well. He loved nights like these.

Originally posted by btwjimin

Joshua: Would softly sing you a lullaby and lay his head over yours. His sweet song would be the soundtrack to your dreams.

Originally posted by the8ght

Jun: Would hug you tighter and listen to the gentle rhythm of your breathing.

Originally posted by wenjunhui

Suga: Would be surprised because just a second ago you were talking to him, he’d whisper “sleepy head” and try not to move so that you would stay sleep.

Originally posted by sugagifs

DK: Would  be so happy that you felt comfortable enough to fall asleep on him and would talk about the moment every day afterwards for weeks to come

Originally posted by itseventeen-hasmoved

Mingyu: Would gently call your name until you woke up, then suggest for you to go lay down on your bed. He’d tell you to not worry about the mess you both made earlier and for you to just get some much needed sleep.

Originally posted by mountean

J-Hope: Would try and use his other hand to reach and find a blanket to cover both of you up from the cold night air.

Originally posted by holdmettightbts

Wonwoo: Would stroke your hair and smile to himself when you gave out a happy little sigh in your dreams.

Originally posted by ewhansol

Hoshi: Would turn of the t.v. so as not to wake you up and slowly take off his jacket so that he could lay it over your shoulders.

Originally posted by amillionwon

Jimin: Would wrap an arm around you so that your position would adjust and you’d have your head lying in his lap. He’d smile down at you as he brushed your hair back behind your ear.

Originally posted by btsfunboyz

Woozi: Would rub your arms to keep you warm and be a little upset with himself for not having a blanket to give you.

Originally posted by sevixxteen

The8: Would whisper sweet nothings in your ear, and when you ask about it later would tell you that he was trying to make sure you were dreaming about him.

Originally posted by camera-seventeen

Taehyung: Would look over at you on his shoulder and try and take a mental snapshot. He’d want to remember this sweet, innocent moment forever.

Originally posted by btsfunboyz

Seungkwan: Would hum a sweet melody interlace his fingers with yours, so that even while you were sleeping you were still close together.

Originally posted by honeyboobooseungkwan

Vernon: Would tilt his head to the side so that you had more room on his shoulder. When you ask him why his neck is sore later, he’ll tell you that it was nothing at all.

Originally posted by the8ght

Jungkook: Would freeze up as your head suddenly came to rest on his shoulder. his eyes would get big and he would be as still as a stone so as not to wake you.

Originally posted by theking-or-thekid

Dino: Would rock back and forth with you to keep you sleeping. He would know that you hadn’t rested in a while and he’d doing everything he could to keep you sleeping.

Originally posted by ftwonwoo

Dreamy star sign aesthetics
  • Aries: fireflies emanating a warm soft glow, intricate golden jewelry boxes lined with velvet, sparkling rubies
  • Taurus: a bouquet of foxgloves violets and daisies, pollen illuminated by the gentle sunlight, turkish delights
  • Gemini: carpets of snowdrops and bluebells dancing in the breeze, soft rosy cheeks, a string of exquisite pearls
  • Cancer: sleeping in on rainy days, rose scented parchment, picnics by the river's edge where willows grow
  • Leo: marigolds basking in the golden sunlight, fiery red hair tied back with ribbon, reading dusty old tomes by candlelight
  • Virgo: collecting buttercups in a straw basket, delicate fairy wings, a golden crown adorned with opalescent gemstones
  • Libra: a glistening drop of dew falling from a rose petal, silk hooded capes, a silver necklace encrusted with emeralds
  • Scorpio: the bright stars reflecting on a still pond, a silver treasure chest filled with pearls and a magical spyglass, a lock of golden hair tucked into a small envelope
  • Sagittarius: a mysterious rose gold locket, roasting chestnuts on a roaring fire, wax sealed letters filled with secrets
  • Capricorn: a mossy glade bordered by toadstools and wildflowers, wishing on a shooting star, a crown of woodland flowers and leaves
  • Aquarius: the soft scent of violets after a sun shower, tiny envelopes filled with glitter and flower petals, a vial of fairy dust
  • Pisces: a silvery silk pouch brimming with sapphires and garnets, iridescent mermaid scales, stargazing on a chilly winter's night
Burn (Alexander Hamilton x Reader)

Originally posted by heaven-by-the-sea

Summary: You had always thought you and Alexander lived a fairy tale happily ever after life, but one day when you receive a document called “The Reynolds Pamphlet,” your entire world is flipped upside down.

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, and I would say it’s on the more angsty side of fanfiction.

Time Period: Hamiltime

Words: 1540

A/N: Hello! I am so excited to be posting my first story ever. My inspiration was obviously the song “Burn” and the idea of Alexander being in the room when this all went down. I’m proud of myself for how it turned out, and I hope you feel the same way. Please don’t hesitate to let me know what you thought or to request a story. Have a wonderful day!

As you walked through the town, basket in hand, you enjoyed the warm rays from the sun. You had no idea that in a matter of minutes, your entire world would be completely turned upside down. The whole time you walked down the street, it felt like every pair of eyes were focused on you. And you swore you kept hearing whispers of, ”Have you read this?”

Before you could continue down your path, you were stopped by a man whom you had never met. Not even saying a word, he shoved a thick pamphlet in your hand with an apologetic look, and hurried away. You looked down at the paper and rolled your eyes. “The Reynolds Pamphlet” as it was called was written by your husband. What political debate could he be getting himself into now?

Once you found a nearby bench to sit on, you began to flip through the pamphlet given to you. Still confused as to why this was the source of such gossip you began to look for highlights in your pamphlet. Suddenly, you felt like you couldn’t breathe, and it wasn’t because of your corset; you finally discovered what all the fuss was about.

“…had a torrid affair with Mrs. Maria Reynolds, with her husband’s knowing consent.”

“I had frequent meetings with her, most of them at my own house.”

“While Mrs. Hamilton and our children were absent…”

You were now one hundred percent sure that every single person in the street was staring at you, clutching the paper in your hand, tears streaming down your face. In a state of rage, you crumbled the pamphlet up in your hand and threw it to the ground. Next, you stood up and took off as fast as considered publicly acceptable to reach your home.

Reaching your destination, you threw open the door and ran upstairs to the privacy of your bedroom. Instantly, you collapsed at the foot of your bed, sobs racked your body. Your chest heaved up and down as you tried to calm your breathing. A million thoughts were racing through your mind, and you were trying to sort through all of them. The most important being why did Alexander do this?

Was he tired of being with you? Did he regret asking for your hand in marriage, and later starting a family with you?

A tug in your heart pulled you towards a small chest on your dresser with (y/n) engraved on the top. You gently picked it up and walked in front of the fireplace, starting it up. With tears still flowing down your face, you opened the lid and stared down at the letters resting inside.

They were the all the letters Alexander had ever written from the moment you began to court. And while that was a lot of letters, each and every one held a special meaning to you. You dug through the stack until you reached the bottom and grabbed the letter. It was the first letter Alexander had ever written you. At the time, you felt so in love, but now you were not so sure.

Now holding the letter at eye level, you examined each line and tried to find clues; warning signs that you should have noticed. In the middle of your examination, the bedroom door opened and Alexander stepped in. He hung up his coat and made is way over to you, to see what you were doing.

By the glow of the fire, he could see the tears resting on your cheeks, and in an instant, he was kneeling right next to you, engulfing you in his strong arms.

“What’s the matter, (y/n)?” he questioned as he wiped away the tears with the pad of his thumb.

“You know,” you began quietly so you wouldn’t give away your cracking voice. “I had thought you were mine from the beginning of our relationship, but I guess I was wrong.” you admitted.

“What are you talking about, darling? Of course I am yours. I always have been and I always will be.” Alex shook his head, laughing lightly at the absurdity of your statement.

“Really?” you questioned. “Then why did I seem to be the last to find out that you had an affair? And by reading it in your stupid pamphlet, no less!” you shouted accusingly.

“You-you-what-wait…” Alex stuttered, taken aback by what you had said.

Alexander knew in his heart and mind that there was no possible way for him to debate himself out of the argument that would surely follow. It was time that he owned up for his mistakes.

“I was so in love with the palaces that you built me out of your words that I was delusional enough to create a fantasy where we could live happily ever after.” you mused aloud, although more to yourself than to your husband.

“But we are living happily ever after. This home, our family, the fact that we have each other. That’s our happily ever after, it’s not a fantasy.” Alexander pointed out, hurt by what you had just said.

You stood up and took yourself out of his grasp, heading to the opposite side of the room just to be away from the man you loved. You were trying to mull everything over and decide what the right plan of action was.

It wasn’t probable for you to take your children and leave, it was unacceptable in society. And while you couldn’t stand the sound of Alexander’s name at the moment, you did not want to drag his name through the mud any more than it had already been. You would have to stay, but there were going to be some changes.

“I just have one question for you.” you started, staring out the window and smiled internally as you saw your children playing in the yard, oblivious to what was happening between their parents.

When he didn’t interrupt, you continued. “What made you think it was a good idea to publish the letters she wrote you? Was it because you are so obsessed with your legacy and paranoid how people look at you that you couldn’t stand the thought of somebody else exposing the affair?”

You waited with a battered breath for his response. It took a moment for Alexander to respond and in that time, you tried to convince yourself that none of this was real. So desperately you wanted to believe it was a bad dream you would soon wake up from.

“Yes.” Alexander answered, his voice almost inaudibly.

More tears pooled in your eyes as you covered your mouth in shock. Yes, Alex was always worried about his reputation, but you never thought he would go as far as ruining your lives just to fix his. At this point, your back was turned to him and all he could see was the shaking of your shoulders.

Tentatively taking a step forward, Alexander slowly approached you and rested his hands on your shoulders, trying to console you. Leaning his mouth close to your ear, he whispered. “I know that I broke your heart and I don’t deserve your forgiveness or trust ever again. But please, let me try to mend the pieces I broke.”

Quickly, you turned around and started at Alexander with a look of horror across your face. He thought it would be that easy? That he could just build more palaces and cathedrals out of words and all would be forgotten? Well he was sorely mistaken.

“No.” you shouted, boldly. “You forfeit all rights to my heart when you slept with Maria Reynolds. In fact, you forfeit your place in our bed. You can sleep in your office from now on, because I am not leaving, but I cannot share a room with you any longer. We may be married, but I am not your wife any longer.”

Guided by the pain and sorrow in your heart, you grabbed the stack of letters from your chest. Stalking towards the fireplace, you knew what you had to do. It was the only way you could begin to move on.

Slowly at first, but then more confidently, you tore the first letter that Alexander had ever written you and you threw it in the fire. Each letter met the same fate as you cried silently. Alexander stood off to the side and watched in horror at the scene that unfolded before him. He had caused you, normally such a sweet and caring person, to destroy the earliest symbols of the love you two shared.

For a moment, he thought he was imaging it, but Alexander heard your broken voice. “I’m burning the letters that might have redeemed you.”

When all the letters had been burned, you closed the lid to your chest and placed it back on your dresser. It felt like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders, but you still felt betrayed and destroyed. Marching up to Alexander, you stared him right in the eyes.

“Just like those letters, I hope that you burn.” you spat.

You turned on your heel and walked out of the room to visit your children, slamming the door behind you; leaving Alexander, with tears in his eyes, to think about what exactly he had destroyed.