keep-folding-on

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17:38 | 24/4/15 || My Muji stationary finally arrived, and I’m so excited!!!  This gave me that extra boost to finish out the year strong.  If you’re wondering what is here:

  • Muji notebooks 6mm rule:  These notebooks stay open!  It frustrates me to no end when I’m writing in a notebook and it keeps folding closed on my hand.  These notebooks fold open and stay open without breaking the binding.
  • Muji blank mini notebook
  • Muji 184 x 64 x 25mm pen case:  This fits just the right amount of pens perfectly with room at the top for a tiny sticky note packet.  And it snaps closed tightly which I love because zipper cloth pen cases normally don’t work for me.
  • Muji gel ink ballpoint pens 0.38mm:  They write so fine and neat, I cry.

Post 4x18. Damn, that was a great episode, despite the lack of Captain Swan. I’m here to remedy that with this lil thing.

freefall.

She notices Henry’s worry first. 

She doesn’t give him a chance to stand, collapsing on the ground next to him. It looks like the same cliff where Regina helped awaken her magic. 

(Fix the bridge, Emma.)

(Save Henry, Emma.)

(Be the Savior, Emma.)

She’s just relieved, her heart finally sinking away from her throat and settling back in her chest now that she has her little boy back in her arms. (No, he’s not little anymore; he’s nearly taller than her, and sitting there on the ground he has to keep his legs awkwardly folded up to stay on her level, but she doesn’t care, can only care about how he’s safe, he’s not leaving her.) She can feel the aftereffects of her magic swirling in her gut, but they’re tempered by Henry’s quiet assurance, “I’m okay, Mom. I’m fine.”

Keep reading

Today has been exceedingly productive

Calixto & Mathew

Calixto sat up straight, his legs crossed on the couch as he stared intently at Mathew. For the majority of the day, he had been following the other around like a lost puppy and asking him various questions about the school and how it worked. “Your hair changed again,” he commented, his voice laced with excitement as he watched the new color settle. “Can you control it?” he cocked his head to the side, keeping his hands folded in his lap as he tried his best to remain cool and collected. The last thing he wanted was to seem like an overly excitable kid, though he was sure that’s what he had come across as so far. 

Shifting again, he rubbed his eyes slightly and stretched his back. “Thanks for taking me for, uh, blood,” he offered, crinkling his nose at how strange of a sentence it was. “Does it get less weird to think about? Because right now, it still isn’t my favorite thing to say out loud,” he babbled on. “You were right though. O-Negative was great. Better than whatever I had last time,” 

I Want To Call

Rabbits run and bangs’ll grow
Morning sun will melt the snow
My lips are chipped my teeth are chapped
I’ll question what I know
Your voice will wrap around my ears
With the warmth of winter oak
I’ve been advised to supersize
The tides going to and fro

When friends talk when they’re drunk
I barely believe them
Their words sincere
But there’s and ego in the way again

I thought I found another family
To be the egg to my hen
One iota knows
No blood to be shared
And all I wanna do is call

They’ve been hunting you for sport
Trigger pulled without a thought
On the moors, the doors were slammed
Like I’m keeping out the fold
Tie a Windsor round my throat
Tight so my pride is hard to swallow
The globe’s too small to hold
A place I would not follow

My friends are growing up
I barely believe them
Their motives clear
But I keep asking to repeat again

I thought I found another family
To be the egg to my hen
One iota knows
No blood to be shared
And all I wanna do is call

The summer has become impossible to plan
The lines in the grains are grabbing at my hand
I can’t dictate how much I miss you, dad
And more I miss the love she knew she had
Your aura’s still a spectre in our home
The seed has germinates on it’s own
The stem needs no support when it is blown
Because it’s xylem is created from your bones

i used blood magic to ward my house and i really think it worked

the night i put the wards up, one per door frame and one per window frame, i slept so damn peacefully

and tonight i dabbed some of my blood ink on my sage and burnt it to ensure the wards protected not just the doors and windows but also the walls and floors and ceiling

nothing with ill intent or origins can pass through without being cleansed of its negativity now because the ward is two-fold: keep out and/or cleanse

which is awesome because every time i come home or leave home i get a little cleansing

Coffee

I don’t want to sleep.
I’d rather make instant caramel coffee
From the box deep inside the cupboard
Impossible to rot
Still gift-wrapped

I don’t want to sleep.
I’d rather drink instant caramel coffee
Sweet and burning on my tongue
But then
I’d drink water
Rehydrate, refresh, reset
Remember you
Gifter of the hot and quick

I don’t want to sleep.
I’d rather write to you
No, I’d rather read to you
Than keep notes on napkins
Folded away because they spill
Small, roasted beans of agony
Bitter like slow-brewing coffee

I don’t want to sleep.
I’d rather tear open the sachets of brown
Powder you gifted when we were friends
I’d rather spread caramel coffee powder
All over the back of your chair
So when you sit and lean
In the same white sweater you wear each day
I’d know I’m ready to boil
More coffee

Silversmith Tavern Ch. 1

There are seven men crammed into one cell. Three bikers, two shaking teens covered in paint who look like they’re going to piss themselves any second, a junkie with the shakes on the floor, and Joseph Warren. He would like to say that he doesn’t fit in here. What with his nicely groomed brown hair and name brand tennis shoes, just sitting with his hands to himself; but the blue bruises under red freckles of missing skin and blood splattering the front of his NYU sweatshirt said otherwise. But of course, like any man who had ever been in a fight, it wasn’t his fault.


The tweaker was starting to mutter to himself now. Drool creaking out of the corner of his lips through the static. Joseph’s hands twitched. He was giving the junkie sideways glances every twenty seconds. Counting off to himself how long each tremor lasted. Debating with himself whether or not he should climb down into the floor beside him or keep his hands folded safely, unconfrontingly, carefully in his lap.


He didn’t have to decide before the wet rubber sound of a cop’s shined shoes could be heard squeaking down the hallway. The officer, a middle aged man with a jar head crew cut and a bulging belly that stoop pointedly below the bulge of his muscular arms, glared down Joseph through his one good eye. His other was swollen shut. Joseph rubbed his knuckles self consciously.


“Warren! Your bails been paid.”


Back straight and confident, footsteps shuffled and eager he skidded around the busted cop. On his way past he stops in front of the man in blue and points back through the bars at the huddled body that had tipped over into a heap on the ground. “Someone might want to check on him.”
Down the hall John is waiting for him by the receptionist desk. Leaning his back against the counter, he looks like he wanted to collapse.


His short black curls were sorted at random around his head, alternating on whether or not to stick to his head or reach for the sky. Below them the bags under his eyes had gone from blue to black as they layer on top of each other like makeup. He was still in his sweatpants and a black Harvard sweatshirt with a tan trench coat that seemed like it could have been Abigail’s grabbed in the dark by mistake. Point being, he looked like hell. Bad enough for Joseph to stop in his tracks and wince sympathetically.

But with Sam cooling his heels in a private cell John would have been dragged away from his quilt covered wife and the warm promise of sleep regardless. John glared at him anyway.“You punched a police officer?“ He rakes one hand through his curls, sending them sparling them back into three more directions.


“John, it wasn’t my fault.”
“It wasn’t your fault? The cop threw himself on your hand then I take it? What were you even doing at that rally anyways?”
“I was,” he knew exactly how this was going to sound “I was trying to keep Sam out of trouble.”


“You were trying to keep Sam out of trouble? And what, the speeches fired you up enough to deck a cop in front of thirty witnesses?” “He was beating down a bystander at that rally. Practically a kid, and he wasn’t even resisting arrest. Yet that man took off his night stick and started to flog him with it.”


Joseph sighed finally stopping for a breath and to realize just how much he was beginning to sound like Sam. He leaned back next to his raven haired friend. “I couldn’t just stand back and do nothing.” He watches John carefully,eyeing the way he sighs and runs a gruff hand down his face. He was only twenty six but he was already beginning to take on the look of a forty year old man.


“Okay. Okay I’ll talk to the chief and see what I can do.” Joseph nodded. “What about Sam?” ‘Hu’ John scoffed under his breath, a smirk sliding onto his lips accidentally.


“Let him stew for a few more hours. Besides I’m sure he’s captivating his cell mates with a tale on how capitalism is draining the soul of democracy.”


…………………………………………………


Cousin John’s apartment was bigger than she imagined. Not that Margaret Kemble wasn’t use to luxuries such as stylish apartments, but no one did things quite like John Hancock did. Everything he did was always on point. Even the decor of her bedroom. “So I take it everything is too your liking?”


He called out with a half seriousness to his voice. He was teasing her from the doorway. He leaned against it with the trunks and bags that she had carefully packed her life away in sitting in neat stacks by his feet; watching with a peak of smile as she spun around the room with arms extended by her waist like she was dancing with herself. Twirling to a halt she smiled at him coyly. “Well it is a bit small. A bit frigid as well.“


Her room was a bit smaller than John’s on the penthouses main level but it still towered over the slight thing that was Margaret Kemble. Her long and slender body was built for dancing and grace, comparable to that of a swan, but it had already steadily began to thin and pull in as pounds were dropped and expensive cashmere sweaters had become too baggy. Stress, it was a killer. And any longer continued on Margaret and she may have been able to disappear into the overstuffed mattress that she threw herself back on.


White, wheat blonde hair standing out against the lilac colored duvet like a halo. Bruises on her wrist blending right in.


The rest of them remained carefully covered. Though both of them knew they were there, they were painfully aware of them. Hiding under the waist of her jeans, lying in wait beneath four layers of cover ups and foundations, skating painfully down her ribs. John, who hadn’t put them there or even been in the state when they were dulled out, was unable to forget them. His poor baby cousin.


New Jersey had not been good to her. Her fiance had not been good to her. Margaret closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of fresh coffee colored paint and the drifting smell of John’s clone . She pushed up on her elbows and grinned. “Perhaps I should take up knitting.”

Turns out my new skirt got delivered while I was at work! It’s so pretty! Vivid navy circle skirt with pockets! What more can a girl ask for?

I need to get some clippy hangers cause I’ve now got too many skirts to keep them all folded - also it’ll encourage me to wear them more often!

Misled Maiden

Things were actually no good, I don’t know what was actually going on yet I can tell from what I see now

Girl, I wish I could turn back time as who I am, I wish I could turn back time as I am and pull you in

Mother nature won’t let me do the same, it’s been years and now I think I get it, rehearsed words, different verses

Time tells yet it still keeps the card folded, we can’t foresee yet it’s real, I am gathering memories and disposing the things I wish I could done the first time

Plans are changed, sudden change of logical mind, hard nut to crack, you are just the way you think you are

Few times it hurts me so bad looking at the photographs, it don’t matter anymore, what would I do if I thought I do so?

Everything would be better, that’s my favorite quote in desperate times, sometimes I’m tired but I ain’t sweating

Nowadays I begin to comprehend the way you show your defensive attitude, I can even imagine the way you say those sharp-edged words

It’s just that way, I think I can never change that, I wouldn’t even if I could, but here in my heart I’m still wishing

Everything is just on the way it’s meant to be, I might call it fate, I might call it luck, now what matters is affection, not infatuation

Love is defined in million ways, love is worth fighting for, and my feelings for you are forever

Now I ain’t in desperate times but I just wanna let things happen the way it’s meant to be

Hey! When you say you can’t feel around the rim because your fingers don’t fit: are you unable to slide just one finger up the side of the cup toward the rim? I can’t get mine to inflate on its own, but I found that my solution was to reach toward the rim with one finger and press the vaginal wall away from it. It creates a channel for the air to flow in. 

You can also try: 

  • running your cup under cold water before insertion to make it firmer
  • enlarging your cup’s air holes
  • letting the cup unfold closer to the entrance of your vagina and then pushing it up after
  • inserting the cup as you usually would and then wiggling it around/bearing down on it to see if that helps it pop open (my cup won’t twist at all)

Other than that, all you can do is keep experimenting with folds and insertion. As a last resort, you might look into a firmer cup. Here’s a more detailed FAQ on cups popping open: (x)

I’ve read about menstrual cup users tying string to the stems of their cups, but if you do this, probably don’t use a string that could “shed” inside of you or scratch you. Also, if you do use the string, still be sure to break the seal of your cup by pinching the bottom when you can reach it. Otherwise, it could be a bit painful to pull out. 

Lemme know if you find a solution!! xx