nail and thread

masaknightooc  asked:

♒ "When was the last time you had sex or made love?" (From Dantalian Lancaster @igetwhatiwant)

Upon the inquire would Susan’s throst and chest tighten, grief overwhelming her in the form of guilt– Why she suddenly felt this remorse pissed her off more than it concerned her. Thus, pushing down the feelings and swatting aside the cloud of gloom would the woman lift her gaze from the distant horizon and move to look to Dantalian. A sarcastic smile would place itself along her painted lips.

The subtle ocean breeze would drift from the docks and momentarily conceal her contorted visage as her hair whips into her face. Quickly would she move to comb her nails through her tousled brunette threads and tug them out if her eyes, a blank expression donning her features now.

“Had sex? Perhaps a week,” the Madam remarks cooly, her eyes narrowing pointedly as she adds, “Made love? Longer than a week.”


Man In Uniform {Part 3}

Fandom: Avengers/Marvel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warning: Nightmares, angst

Writer: @imaginesofeveryfandom aka @thequeenofthehobbits

Summary/Request: James Barnes is the local neighbourhood cop known for saving cats from trees and walking people home at night. It just so happens that he lives in your apartment building, in the apartment across from yours.

Prologue X, Part 1 X, Part 2 X

Keep reading


I’ve seen quite a few people create small kits for on-the-go witchcraft out of Altoid tins, so I figured I’d give it a go.

- vial of course sea salt
- two white birthday candles
- white sage leaf
- small tin of rosemary
- red embroidery thread
- nail clippers (for cutting the thread)
- three matches
- match striker (glued to top)
- sachet including a pendulum, jade, amethyst, and rose quartz
- a makeshift pendulum board
- clear quartz

As The Storm Approaches (J.Jones)

PAIRING/S: Reader/Jughead, Reader/Veronica, Betty/Jughead
WARNINGS: Mentions of Depression
WORDS: 874

As The Strom Approaches

YOUR head rests in Veronica’s lap as she stroked your hair, her perfect manicured nails carefully threaded through each strand. You curled into her wishing that this, right here could be your life. Lying with Verconia as she so affectionately consoled you in your time of need, with your big brother sat on the end of the bed not too far away. But instead you were mentally pinning over a boy who would never think of you anymore than a best friend.

It was that time of year again, when your seasonal depression was acting up. Usually around this time, Jughead would be there patiently holding you close and whispering positive things in your ear to make you feel not so down. But this time around it is as if your best friend had completely forgetten about your existence and there was no way in hell you were going to contact him, knowing that interrupting the writer was never good.

Your depression at this time was worse than usual, Jughead’s noticeable absence must have been making a larger impact on you than you originally thought. It wasn’t as if you weren’t glad that Veronica was here, even if you felt extremely bad for putting this on her. But considering shes only been in Riverdale for not even three months, she was taking it like a trooper. This was just the first time in fifteen years that Jughead wasn’t here to help out and it left you feeling quiet hypothetically empty.

Betty and Jughead had been getting overly close the past two months or so. You were never to question their relationship but Archie and yourself had a lowkey bet going on to see who would make the first move. They were both as awkward as one another when it came down to handling their feelings and considering the last time Betty expressed her feelings of longing for the boy she liked cough, Archie Andrews and in return got rejected, your hopes weren’t too high for the poor girl; so you had your bets placed on Jughead.

It was no secret to either Archie or Veroncia, that it pained you to see Jughead so close to Betty, but you had reassured the two that you were perfectly okay, and hopefully on the outside it did infact look like you were, well, up until now that is.

You pretended that it didn’t hurt when he blew off your invite to Pop’s earlier on that night, yet again claiming that he and Betty were working on the Blue and Gold. It wasn’t so bad at first due to fact you know how serious he takes his writing and how large of an infatuation he has with the Jason Blossom case, so you had let it slide because there is always another time. Which is ironically what you have been continuously telling yourself for the past month. When you and Archie decided to go to Pop’s that night without Jughead for what he’d like to call, ‘Sibling Bonding’ and came across both Betty and Jughead sitting across for each other, in Jughead’s booth, sharing a plate of fries (which is very un-Jughead like). Jughead was sat without his iconic laptop anywhere in sight, and yes you were hurt now more than ever before.

“Hey, V?” You looked up at her, lying on your bed in her silk pajamas.

“What’s up Y/N/N?” Her voice was quiet and sweet, she sent you a small sad smile. You glanced down at your hands before turning back to her with a sigh.

“I miss Jughead.” You pause to take in a breathe. “I just-why am I never good enough?” You whispered into her shirt, gripping the material for life. Archie had fallen asleep a little while ago so Veroncia had turned the movie off and you were both lying in silence. “I-I don’t blame either of them because i know it can’t be helped. And I love Betty, shes one of my best friends. But it hurts.”

“Its allowed to hurt Y/N, there isn’t anything wrong with feeling hurt. I know your hating yourself more because you think you’re being selfish, but its okay to feel.” You let out a loud sigh after you took in her words. With a roll of your eyes and a scoff you said,

“Well, I really wish I couldn’t.” The slight breeze from the window swept through your room, and shook the large tree outside your window. The sound of the leaves ruffling caught your attention and you watched the shadow on your wall.

Listening to the quiet of the night and the feeling of fresh air you took in your surroundings. Your eyes began to drop and before late, you were fast asleep curled into Verconia’s side.

What you were unaware of, was that this infact was just the beginning of some wild rollercoaster that you weren’t prepared to board.

PART 2 // Master List

Hey Guys!
I wrote this because I got bored and i was thinking of doing a part 2? I know its super shitty lmao but If anyone actually reads it, tell me what you think? 😊 Also check my last post for request info!!

one hundred ways to say “I love you.”


“It reminded me of you.”

Harold’s whole body turns to face John then; he could feel himself twitching with facial acrobatics of befuddlement and disbelief.  “A bunch of indecipherable squiggly lines reminded you of me?” Harold says dubiously, trying and failing not to sound vaguely insulted by the very notion.

John’s own face is a mixture of amusement and smugness, and it’s equal parts endearing and annoying.  “Who says it’s indecipherable?” John drawls all-too-innocently as he moves to stand beside him, hands loosely tucked in his pockets with a pose Harold knows all too well as feigned casualness.

Harold narrows his eyes.  “It’s supposed to have meaning?”

John smirks.  “You’re the genius, Finch.  You tell me.”

Harold glares, but he knows it’s futile; John isn’t intimidated by him anymore, and merely gives him a mysterious smile.

Harold huffs and turns his attention back to the wall.  They’re at John’s loft, unwinding after a successful case with their latest Number; they happened to be in the area anyway, and John invited him upstairs for some tea.  He had tried not to show his surprise when he saw that not only has John stocked his kitchen with fresh (and rare) tea leaves for Sencha green, but has also purchased tea makers, infusers, and complete tea sets, with linen.  John had brewed a fresh pot for him, and poured it into the most ridiculously delicate porcelain teacup Harold has ever seen, and handed it into him as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

Harold would’ve been tempted to tease, except John had offered it to him with such a doleful look, not unlike Bear when he’s hopefully looking up at Harold for praise — or treats.  “I promise it’s not poison,” John had said encouragingly, tinged with just the slightest hint of nervousness.  Relenting, Harold had graciously accepted the offered teacup, and surprisingly discovered that it was, in fact, the best Sencha green he had ever tasted.

John had brightened then, looking so pleased and proud, and Harold had been thankful that the tea was quite warm so he could blame the flush in his cheeks to the steam rising from the cup.  Curiosity piqued, he was about to ask the reason for the tea, when something else suddenly caught his eye and demanded his full attention.  Something utterly mind-boggling.

“They look like something a toddler would’ve drawn on the wall with a crayon,” Harold deadpans.

John is unperturbed.  “Do they?” 

Harold scowls.  John’s smile widens.

It wasn’t, in fact, drawn with a crayon.  When Harold had prepared this loft for John, he had deliberately left it sparse, wordlessly allowing John the freedom to decorate and make use of it as he wants to; it is, after, all, his.  For the most part, John had left it as it was when Harold had first given it to him, seemingly finding comfort instead in the simple, efficient, minimalistic style of the military.  

Except John seems to have a… unique (bordering on questionable) sense of aesthetics when it comes to interior decorating.  Particularly with what he has chosen to decorate the largest wall with.

“I don’t understand, Mr. Reese,” Harold says, frustrated.  “They’re squiggles.

John grins.  “Meaningful squiggles, Finch.”

They were deliberately placed too, because they weren’t drawn into the wall.  It was made with nails and string, not unlike the board Finch had once used to keep track of the Irrelevants he failed to save (the board that had mysteriously disappeared, and though they never once spoke about it, he had a feeling John had disposed it without his knowledge when he caught Harold looking painfully at the board too often).

There were no pictures here though, just seemingly randomly placed nails with string threaded through them, forming several rows of horizontal lines that go up and down, like a roller coaster, except with no sense of direction or design or aesthetic whatsoever.  

Harold stares at him, aghast.  “They really mean something to you?”

John looks at him then, and his tone turns soft and serious.  “They mean the world to me.”

Harold’s breath catches in his throat as he watches John’s gaze travel over the wall’s design of his making; the only personal touch in the seemingly impersonal living space.  “Despite what you believe, Finch,” John murmurs, “you don’t know everything about me.”

Harold doesn’t know why, but hearing that… hurts.

He turns away from John then, knowing that his face is betraying an emotion he doesn’t want the other man to see.  He lifts the teacup and sips a little too quickly, the tea scalding the back of his throat.  He looks up at the lines of nails and thread, and his face hardens, resolute.

He may not know what it means.  But he’s determined to find out.

He’s surrounded by a fortress of books, with multiple tabs open in the monitor in front of him, when John walks into the library the next morning.  He senses the way John halts and hesitates before curiosity gets the better of him.  “Research for our new Number, Finch?”

Harold stiffens.  “No,” he says brusquely as he resumes his typing, pausing every now and then to refer to one of the open books on his desk and to write on the pad where he keeps his notes.  

He ignores the prickling on the back of his neck as he senses John staring at him.  He hears John step closer, and tries not to react when he feels John’s gaze sweeping over his desk, knowing what he’s seeing: stacks of books about ancient ciphers and codes in varying eras and parts of the world, the computer screen displaying the more modern ones.  Out of the corner of his eye, Harold sees the way John raises his eyebrows as one of the open tabs show that Harold has hacked into the (supposedly) secret codes of the CIA.  

“Finch,” John says slowly, “isn’t this getting a little… obsessive?”

Harold holds out for several more seconds before he can’t take it anymore.  He lets the pen he’s holding fall to the table with a loud clatter.  “Can’t you at least give me a clue as to what those lines mean?” he asks helplessly.

He swivels in his chair to look up at John, and stops short.  Despite the obvious amusement in his features, John also looks strangely… fond.  Harold swallows, unsure why he suddenly feels embarrassed.  And so… exposed.

John lets his fingers run lightly over one of the book’s open pages, his gaze faraway and unseeing.  “I don’t know what to tell you, Finch,” he says softly, “except that it’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

Harold crosses his arms over his chest.  “That doesn’t really help at all.”  He refuses to pout like a child.  He comes very close to it.

John chuckles.  “Do we have a new Number?” he asks, deftly changing the subject.  

“No,” Harold says morosely.  He heaves a deep sigh and makes a shooing gesture.  “You can have the day off, Mr. Reese.”

John’s mouth quirks.  “I’ll leave you to your research then, boss.”

Harold glares at him; the man even has the gall to wink at him. 

Sniffing, he turns back to his computer and his books.  He hears John’s footsteps fading into the background, before he hears a pause as John bends down with a low whisper to Bear.

“Make sure he doesn’t wear himself out, okay?”

Surprised, Harold turns around to look at John, but he’s already gone.

The library feels strangely… empty.

Harold sits straight up, startled out of his stupor at Bear’s loud bark.  He blinks the sleep out of his eyes and fumbles for his glasses, his movements lethargic as his limbs seem to take a bit longer to adjust to wakefulness.  He squints at the dust motes visible from the sunlight streaming in from the windows, and he realises that it’s already late in the afternoon.  He must have fallen asleep at his desk again.  

Bear woofs again, and Harold pats his head apologetically.  “I guess it’s time for your walk,” he says gently.  He moves to stand—and gasps.

Pain shoots up from his spine with an electric jolt, digging into his shoulders and his injured leg like shards of glass.  Belatedly, Harold realises that his prolonged nap not only made his overworked, overtired muscles stiff and aching—it also made him forget to take his scheduled painkillers.  

He lowers himself slowly, hissing through gritted teeth, and through the haze of pain he can hear Bear whimpering.  He lets his eyes flutter open as he senses Bear’s movements, and he sees the dog nosing at an amber bottle that Harold very clearly remembers wasn’t there before.

Bear pushes it toward him.  Shakily, Harold reaches out to take it, and even the blinding pain isn’t enough to make him fail to recognise the prescription bottle.  

Bear noses another object toward him, and Harold smiles at the dog gratefully as he takes the water bottle.  He realises that it’s already pre-opened with the seal already broken, and he has a moment to be oddly touched before another stab of pain whites out all his thoughts.  He quickly shakes out the pills and downs them with gulps of water, before he replaces the caps on both containers… and waits.

He doesn’t know how much time passes; it may have just been minutes, even though it feels like hours.  Bear has settled himself by Harold’s feet with his chin on Harold’s lap, staunchly watching him the entire time.  As soon as Harold finally feels like he can breathe without the phantom sensation of his spine grinding itself to pieces with every expansion and contraction of his lungs, he tenderly runs his fingers through the dog’s soft fur.

“Thank you, Bear,” he says as Bear thumps his tail minutely, almost hesitantly against the floor, as if still unsure of the state of his master’s well-being.  “Although… am I correct in assuming that Mr. Reese is the one who dropped these earlier while I was sleeping?”  He thumbs at the prescription bottle as it rattles in his hand.

Bear woofs, and Harold smiles, feeling a warmth blossom in his chest.  “Then I suppose I have to thank him as well.”

He turns over the bottle thoughtfully.  “Though I wonder how he knew the right brand and dosage,” he muses, “not to mention the time and frequency needed for me to—”  

He stills.

Can’t you at least give me a clue as to what those lines mean?’

He stares at the bottle.  “Of course,” he murmurs to himself.  “How very clever, Mr. Reese.”

Finally convinced that his master is out of immediate danger, Bear shuffles back to make room as Harold swivels his chair forward and powers up the monitor of his computer.  Operating on a strong hunch, he opens his personal files and accesses his medical records.

And there, in front of him, is the answer.

‘They mean the world to me.’

‘It’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.’

“Oh,” Harold breathes.  “Oh John.

Evening finds him standing in the middle of John’s loft, once more staring at the lines on the wall.

“You covered them with fluorescent paint,” Harold observes.

Several feet behind him, a good distance away, John steps out of the shadows.  “Yes,” he quietly affirms.  “I did.”  

John’s military efficiency shows in his habits; the only lights he turns on at night are the ones in the bathroom and in the kitchen counter.  In fact, the only illumination of the room is coming from New York City itself, as the lights filter in through the windows which John—despite being an intensely private person himself—refuses to cover with curtains.

Harold is beginning to suspect, however, that there’s another reason why John prefers his loft to be blanketed in shadow at night, aside from the practical reason of saving electricity.

Harold tilts his head toward the design on the wall.  “They look like constellations,” he softly remarks.  The fluorescent paint made the entire thing glow in the dark; the nails stand out like stars in the night sky, the thread connecting them reminiscent of the shapes that can be found in astrology books.  “It’s beautiful.”

A small smile plays on John’s lips as he steps closer.  “It is,” he agrees.  “I needed the reminder.”

“Oh?” Harold looks at him.  “Of what?”

John moves to stand beside Harold, the fabrics of their sleeves nearly brushing.  “Of a light that never goes out, no matter how dark the world gets.”

Harold’s heart flutters at that.  “I see,” he says, carefully neutral.  “That’s… a very optimistic view to have, Mr. Reese.”

John looks up at the wall.  “They give me hope,” he murmurs, indicating the glowing lines.

Harold takes a deep breath.  John senses his wordless unease, and blinks when Harold hands him a file.  He takes it, opens the folder—and Harold sees the exact moment it registers in John’s eyes that Harold finally knows.

“I wonder, Mr. Reese,” Harold begins softly, “why would you design your wall with the test results of my electroencephalogram?” 

Harold steps closer as John peruses the medical records Harold knows John has already seen in detail before.  Harold tries very hard not to think about how John may have acquired those records in the first place, and very possibly kept a copy for himself as reference; the design on John’s wall is a near-perfect replica of Harold’s EEG reading, the star-like lines a larger, glowing version of the measurement and recording of Harold’s brain activity. 

“Specifically,” Harold continues, gentle in his probing, “it’s the reading the doctors gave me when they tested me after the bombing.”

John’s head snaps up at that, but Harold’s gaze is calm.  The memory doesn’t give him pain anymore, only a lingering sense of loss that he’s continuously learning to live with; Nathan’s absence will always be Harold’s phantom limb, the burden of guilt a constant, sobering guide for his conscience.

Slowly, John closes the folder and hands it back to Harold.  He takes it, and waits.

“It reminds me to be careful,” John finally says as he looks back at the wall.  “To protect at all cost what the world can’t afford to lose.”

Harold holds his breath.  “And what is that, Mr. Reese?”

John is quiet for a moment longer.  He closes his eyes, and even as Harold watches, the most peaceful expression Harold has ever seen settles over John’s features.

“A beautiful mind that can save the world.”

Harold turns away.  It’s almost too painful to look at John then.

A light that never goes out, no matter how dark the world gets.’

He blinks away the sudden mistiness that comes over his eyes.  He removes his foggy glasses and takes out his pocket square to wipe them clean.  When he puts them back on, John is looking at him, waiting.

They are teetering on the edge of a precipice, and John, as always, is following Harold’s lead on whether or not they both should leap.

“I suppose,” Harold manages to say amidst the rapid beating of his heart, “we should schedule for an electrocardiogram next.”

He turns to John, who at first has a look of confusion on his face, before it swiftly ratchets into tempered panic.  “Finch, are you—”

“No, no, Mr. Reese, I’m perfectly fine,” Harold puts up both his hands to placate John.  “I meant, we should schedule an ECG for you.”  

John blinks, looking completely bewildered.  “Me?  But why?”

Harold smiles, and glances up at the wall.  “Because your design is incomplete, John.  It’s missing its other half.”

He hears a sharp intake of breath, and Harold turns to him.  “We need the other half of the equation,” he softly explains.  “After all, what is a beautiful mind that can save the world… without a beautiful heart that can change it?”

The city lights are reflected in John’s eyes as they shine with a riveting combination of fear and hope.  Harold steps closer into his personal space—much closer than they have ever been before—and sees the way John’s eyes dilate as Harold looks up at him.

“I suppose it’s for my benefit too,” Harold admits, dipping his gaze shyly as he places a hand on John’s chest to steady himself.  “After all, I, too, need a reminder of what I can’t afford to lose.”

They’re standing so close together that Harold can feel the vibrations of John’s rumbling voice reverberating between them.  “And what is that?” 

Harold smiles, tucks his head beneath John’s chin, and presses his ear to John’s chest, hearing the rhythm of the future he’s fighting for.

“Your heart.”

My Beauty Products

Randomly decided to post my beauty/hygiene products and routines in case this helps someone. I am a POC (African-American), but these products can be used for everyone! Having a great skin, hair, makeup, and hygiene routine is essential to landing the perfect baller or sugar daddy, they want their woman looking good at all times and will have no problem funding it! For reference, I have sensitive dry skin and these products are friendly for my skin type.

Keep reading

Chris Marker - The Koumiko Mystery / Le Mystère Koumiko (1967)

Hour Arithmetic 時の算術 (1966)

by Kumiko Muraoka 村岡久美子

Today is already the eighth day of spring, and this is the twenty-seventh spring. I am beginning to understand that times and that things all the methods for measuring time: cutting notches on the flow of time, making bouquets of the seconds, putting them in rows on paper. Sometimes time seems to be a ribbon, sometimes a point, sometimes minuscule thorns.

The length of time is the thing that is the most difficult to understand. One day it’s too short, or too long, endless. That’s why there are men who devote their life to keeping watch over the length of time, we call them “scientists. ” But scientists have never understood the length of time in which they are living, and they disappear suddenly from the earth.

On the Yurakucho viaduct pass circle-line trains, under the viaduct, a silent cobbler-shoe-shiner is seated on a small wooden stool. He is there all winter and summer, squeezed into clothes that he puts on over each other. On him he is carrying all the clothing that he possesses, but he’s always numb with cold. It’s because of this wind passing under the viaduct. which is different than
that blowing from the other side, several feet from there.

The hands of the shoe-shiner are dried out, blackened, deformed, the pupils of his eyes are constantly dilated. In the obscurity, he can make out the grey luster of the nails and pound them into the sole with dexterity; he hasn’t ever lost a single one, or struck it sideways, or missed. The eyes of the cobbler are extremely sensitive to miniscule objects: needles, threads, nails, leather
remnants …… But his eyes can’t focus on larger objects.

There are now two mutes and a hunchback leaning his hump against the cement wall. When there aren’t any customers, the cobblers’ conference is held: they chat, gossip and laugh with their heads thrown back, their gestures more and more lively more and more frantic, strange. You can’t hear their conversation, because of the trains passing ceaselessly over their heads.

They have come to the conclusion that the sun is a kind of crawling animal. It is never far from where they are, but it never comes to see them. They find that incomprehensible. One of them, however, has found an explanation: “Maybe it has no shoes.” They burst out laughing as a sign of triumph. The triumph of the intelligence. But the eyes of the cobbler don’t see the length of time.

Kumiko Muraoka, ”Hour Arithmetic,” The Purple Journal, No. 9, 06/07. The first version of the text was published in the journal Sinjinruigaku 1966 and part of it was later published in the French journal La Délirante 1967.

rcgnata  asked:


“Ah, Sis! It’s lovely to see you looking into more human customs. Do the children want to paint nails with you this time as well?”

He hadn’t had another person to paint nails with in ages. Tao was still waiting for the last design to wear off, and M-21 didn’t seem to paint his anymore — a shame. If the two of them were going to do it now, then they might as well go all the way.

“Solid colour, or more complicated designs? I have brushes and new acrylic paint for nail art. We can try anything you’d like. Flowers? Scenery, or some patterns?”

Maybe a more elegant and sleek design would be her style? He and Tao had amassed a collection of colours (more than often not even making it halfway through a bottle), so they had plenty of options.

Getting Started With Magic

This post is based off of my experiences. YMMV.

If I could go back in time and talk to my (more) inexperienced self, this is the letter that I would hand me.

A Warning

No matter how weak think you are, you are powerful enough to destroy your own life. Respect what magic can bring you. Respect what it can take away.

Bits and Bobs

“Magic” means to make stuff happen through nonphysical means.

“Visualization” means imagining. Visions are spontaneous visualizations.

Never let anyone take away your power.

Never, ever, invite a spirit in to your mind or body.

Never let anyone or anything make you believe you do not have the power to do something.

Magic is dangerous. Respect it.

It is okay to want validation that your beliefs are real. It is not really very nice to go around casting spells on people just to prove to yourself that you have power.

Your beliefs will evolve. Don’t marry yourself to one system.

Magic is reflected in Nature. Nature is reflected in magic. If it doesn’t happen in Nature, it doesn’t happen in magic.

Order of Operations

Get started with magic in this order:

Prepare → cleanse → protect → prosperity → spells and divination. During all of this, continue your research and education.


There are a few things you will want before you get started in magic.

  • A journal – keep a regular diary of things that happen to you in your day to day life. Include all divination you do, visions you have, your dreams, interesting things that happen to you, and all spells you cast or magical workings you perform. Remember that a journal can also be on your phone or laptop. As a side note, a Book of Shadows is a Wiccan tool with special significance to that path. If you are not Wiccan you do not need a BOS. A plain journal and spellbook will suffice.
  • A spellbook – if you want something separate from your journal to keep spells in. Record in this notebook, binder, or text document different spells you want to try and have tried, as well as any magical recipes you find interesting. I find that a side Tumblr blog makes an excellent spellbook.
  • Three plant friends – acquire any three of these dried herbs:  rosemary, sage, rue, agrimony, angelica, anise, basil, bay leaf, caraway, castor beans, cinnamon, cloves, eucalyptus, hyssop, lavender, mint, mugwort, mullein, valerian, vervain, or wormwood. Getting them from the kitchen or grocery aisle will be just fine. These herbs are all very powerful protectors and will work with you to your benefit. Get as much as you can of each.
  • Arts and crafts supplies – depending on your inclinations you will want to be able to craft your own poppets, sachets, wish boxes, magical inks, and the like. Any hobby can be adapted to become a magical outlet. If you would like a shopping list, here you go: A good pair of scissors, a box of pins or needles, some good red or black thread (cotton or biodegradable if possible), jars of red and/or black ink, dip pens, a book of cardstock for making paper talismans, neutral colored fabric (cotton or biodegradable), a variety of candles (white unscented tea lights are fine, get a carton of 100; jar candles are excellent in any color; and taper candles in a variety of colors), candle holders, incense in any scent you prefer, incense holders, charcoal self-lighting disks, a live herbal plant (one of the herbs listed above will work great), a fire-safe dish in which to hold the charcoal disks.
  • Storage containers – you will be needing plenty of these! Mason jars or jars of any type are excellent. Get also plastic baggies, and start a collection of boxes of every size. You will thank yourself later.

If you are short on money (hopefully, not for long) or you must necessarily remain “in the woods”, then simply acquire a journal and your three plant friends, and let the rest come as it will.

Begin by choosing for yourself a magical name. This is any name or word that you enjoy. If you are part of a tradition with rules on how to choose a magical name, follow that tradition’s rules. Otherwise, choose any name you like. Record your magical name in your journal and always use it when doing magic or interacting with spirits.


It is time to do your first magic! In magic, cleansing is a vital tool. Just as you clean your home physically, you also need to clean it spiritually. There is no need to agonize over doing your first spell. Cleanse as soon as you are able; do it today if possible.

Take a portion of your three magical plant friends. Put them in a cloth sachet, and tie the top closed with some thread or yarn. Now it is time to do your first spirit work. Over the sachet, repeat these words with the correct names substituted:

“Spirit of [herb], I humbly request you visit me today. Please bring your renowned powers of cleansing and protection to my spell. Infuse with the water and make me pure.”

Repeat this three times, one for each of the plants you have chosen. As you say these words, visualize (imagine) that the spirit of the plant returns to the dried herbs and glows a vivid color. Drop the sachet in a hot bath and soak. Scrub yourself down with the herbal water starting at the crown of your head and going down towards your toes. As you wash, visualize the vivid colors of the plant spirits washing over you and carrying away all gunky energy, all parasites, and every bad and negative feeling you have. Even as you finish your bath and dry off, the colors remain around you in a protective shield. Perhaps when you close your eyes and think about being protected, you will feel safe and see those colors again.

Congratulations – you have performed your first spell! Drain the tub as normal and thank the plants (“thank you [herb] for your help today.”) Then dispose of the plants in the compost if possible; otherwise toss them. Keep your cloth sachet for later use. If you do not have a tub, do this instead: ask the plants for help as usual, but instead of adding them to a sachet, put them in a quart of boiling water as if making tea. Once the tea has cooled, take it to the shower and pour it over yourself, using that water to wash instead. Use the same visualizations and closing.

After you have cleansed yourself, record the process in your journal and how you feel afterwords.

Now it is time to cleanse your home. Again you will be calling upon your plant allies. The easiest way to do this – and perhaps the most traditional – is to burn some protective herbs as incense and fumigate your home with them. You will again want to invite the plant spirits back in to the dried herb matter. Carrying the burning plants from room to room, repeat a chant of purification and protection (the simplest being, “purify, protect, and bless.” But I encourage you to write your own.) It is okay to think your magical chant as well. When you think magical spells, have a device that signifies you are speaking words of Magical Significance. I do this by imagining my voice turns a certain color and emanates throughout the worlds. Find your own way to focus your thoughts so that it is clear to you when you are and aren’t using magical thinking.

Unfortunately not many of us can hotbox our entire house with rosemary smoke. A good second option is to again brew your herbs as a tea, and strain it out, then pour the tea to a spray bottle and spritz your home with magical water instead. Again repeat your magical chant.

Here is a third option: take a bowl of your enspirited plant allies in to each room. Sit quietly and imagine their vivid spirits filling the room, pushing out any bad or negative energies or spirits. If you cannot fully imagine each room being filled, then it isn’t being totally purified. As the spirits fill the room, again, say or think your magical chant.

Especially if you chose that last option, you may find yourself to be rather drained after two cleansings in a day. This is quite normal. Magical energy is an energy, just like any other, that us humans use in our day to day life. Just as we are tired after expending emotional or physical energy, we are also tired after expending magical energy. Eat plenty of nutritious food and get lots of sleep. Be sure to record your spellwork in your journal.


In general you will want to protect yourself, your home, and whoever lives in your home, from all forms of spiritual attack. No defense is totally foolproof. In Nature, the stronger a defense is, the more burdensome it is on whomever it is protecting. Lock something up in Fort Knox and it is very well protected, but not very flexible or accessible. You do not want to lock yourself up in an ivory tower; you just want to add a few fortifications to your home.

Start by crafting a personal protection for yourself.

Cross Protection

Take two nails or twigs from holy trees. Hold one vertically and imagine that it is an extremely powerful barrier, carrying with it either the virtue of iron or the virtues of the tree it came from. Hold the other twig or nail horizontally and imagine a barrier shooting out from it, so that nothing could possibly pass. Place the two twigs or nails together so they form a cross or X shape. As they touch, imagine a mighty clang ring out as your two protectors seal together to create an impenetrable shield. Bind the twigs or nails with black or red thread. Ensure the sticks never come apart again; if they do, even for a moment, the enchantment is lost. Tie more thread to this amulet or attach it to a necklace to wear it.

SATOR Square

Draw the SATOR Square on good card stock if available; an index card will do – otherwise, plain paper. Use black or red ink – magical ink is awesome, otherwise a Sharpie is fine. As you draw each line, be aware that you are drawing an immensely powerful protective amulet. With each line and letter you draw, imagine the power within building up and up until it is almost exploding. As you make the last mark, watch the power “click” together and become a cohesive unit. Like a wave, the power will spread out and form a complete and powerful shield, perhaps golden or yellow in color. Nothing malicious can cross this barrier. Punch a small hole in the paper (the square itself does not need to be large at all; make it as small as you desire while allowing the lines to remain distinct) and string it on thread to wear.

Jewelry Enchantment

Take any one or three of the protective herbs listed above. Burn them on charcoal disks or make a tea out of them. Hold your chosen article of jewelry over the smoke or place it within the water. Chant three times, “purify, protect, and bless.” Call to the spirit of the plant: “Rosemary, I call on you today to lay a powerful enchantment on this [ring, necklace, etc]. Make it the strongest shield that you know, which no malicious force could dream of crossing.” Take some whiskey, red wine, or raw egg. Put a drop if it on the jewelry as payment to the plant. Perform a sign of sealing (such as saying “so mote it be”).

Practice crafting personal protections for a few days. Have many on hand, with different words and plant spirits used in their creation. Carefully record each enchantment in your journal so you always know which enchantment to use when the time comes for defense.

Now you will need to protect your home. Take a jar or other container. Put in it some dirt from your property and put it in the jar. Draw an accurate picture of your home or apartment and put the picture in the jar. Now choose three of your plant friends. Call their spirits as you have been practicing. “Spirit of [herb], I request your aid in my spell today. Bring ultimate protection against all evil and malicious force to my home.” Use your intuition to determine how much of each herb to add to the jar or container. When the you are done, imagine the vivid colors of the plant spirits growing massive in scale, covering your entire home in a powerful and impenetrable shield. By the power of three no malicious force may cross this barrier. Close the container and light a candle on top of it to charge it and seal it. Store the container in a safe space and recharge it with candles once a month. In times of crisis, recharge the jar either weekly or daily. Also leave it in the sun for a few hours, once a month. If the dried herbs within rot, you are experiencing a major spiritual attack. Immediately redouble your defenses and take care of your business.

As with all your spells, be sure to record these in your journal.

Now you have performed cleansings and protections and already have your first experience in magic and spirit work. Now that the basics are taken care of, let’s roll around to building an altar and taking care of a few basic problems in your life.


A prosperity altar is in my opinion the first non-protective magic someone should attempt. If you have a major crisis in your life, take care of that first; otherwise, turn to prosperity. Prosperity does not mean greed or wealth. Think of all the areas in life you can be prosperous: In your hobbies, in your job, in your school work, in your motivation, in your friendships. A prosperity altar brings muchness in to your life. It removes blockages that prevents you from being successful.

Traditionally an altar is a cleared away space such as a table or shelf where things can be arranged and placed with magical intent. Not everyone is able to have such a space, however. Consider creating a Tumblr blog as an altar, or a large jar or box.

First you will want to cleanse your shelf or container. Again bring out your plant allies (I hope you really did buy a large quantity of them) and cleanse in your own personal way. Consider laying down an altar cloth. I use folded up sarongs for my altar cloths. You can use anything you wish. Consider sewing or knitting your own altar cloth for a personal touch.

Begin to collect and add a variety of items to your alter. Here are some suggestions.

  • Candles in the color of money or valuable gemstones. Green, gold, and silver are traditional.
  • Real or fake money, and as much of it as possible.
  • Costume jewelry, glass ‘gemstones’, and rocks painted gold or silver.
  • Rice, grains, almonds, allspice, cinnamon, chamomile, dill, fenugreek, mint, and basil.
  • Images of magpies, dragons, or other entities that collect treasures.
  • Drawings or images of yourself being highly prosperous, receiving everything you want, and having things going your way.
  • Statements of power, such as “I am prosperous” or “I receive every good thing.”

Give each item a purpose. “This candle acts as a beacon to draw prosperity to me. This stone acts as an anchor to hold prosperity in my life. This statement of power directs the energy in my life.” Meditate with your altar once a day or however often it is possible for you to do so. Visualize your altar steadily gaining more power, overflowing with prosperous energies. This altar acts as a center point for prosperous energies to enter your life. Expect to see changes in your prosperity soon.

Spells and Divination

Think of what you would like to change in your life. Most adults have one or two things they would prefer to change. Would you like more hours at work? Or for your co-worker to get out of town for a little while? Or, perhaps you want to heal a relationship with an old friend, or make enough money to go on a trip next spring. Make a list of things you want to change.

Listing each individual spell is outside the scope of this basic guide. However, I can go over some simple spellcrafting.

Each spell should have three components. Your willpower and focus, the power of a spirit ally, and a physical action that supports your magical goals.

Your willpower and focus means directing the energies you raise through words, actions, and visualizations. In the home cleansing, you may have visualized the spirits filling a room while you repeated the phrase “purify, protect, and bless.” This is using your willpower and focus. Another example is meditating before your prosperity altar and imagining good things happening to you. Working with tools and ingredients can focus your willpower. Consider the power of stabbing a poppet with a needle; this is an excellent point of focus. I prefer to specifically use a visualization and a spoken phrase to raise and focus willpower.

A spirit ally may be one of the plants we have been using up to this point. It could also be a crystal, or the flame elemental from a candle. It could be the spirit of the Sun or Moon, or the land you live upon. It could be a feather or a dish of water. When constructing your spirit call, speak directly and honestly. Ask the spirit of whatever it is you are working with to come to you and aid you in your magic. Of course you will want to align the spirit work you are doing with the spell at hand. You would not call on a plant of purity to curse someone, for example.

Lastly, you will need to make physical actions that support the intent of your spell. For a job spell, this means making calls and turning in resumes. For a friendship spell, this means going out to try and meet new people. Imagine that reality is smooth as glass, and magic is floating above it, trying to get in. But the surface of reality is too dense and smooth for magic to get a foothold. When you take physical actions that support your spell, you create grooves in reality that allow your magic to come down and manifest.

To craft a spell, first write down what you want to happen. “I want more hours at work,” for example. Decide what spirits you would like to include in your spell, and what props you would like to use. Simply do your research on spirits – in this spell, let’s use almonds and basil. I think a good prop would be to make a mock time sheet, and fill it out with you receiving exactly how many hours you want. Don’t go overboard or you may be asked to work too often!

Invite the spirits of almond and basil to your spell. “Spirit of Almond, I ask you come to my spell today, to bring me great treasures and wealth. Spirit of Basil, I ask you come to my spell today, to bring me prosperity unbound.” Explain to the plant spirits what you want to happen: “I require more hours at work. I want to work forty hours a week.” Then, employing your willpower and focus, visualize the plant spirits flowing through your life and opening up pathways that will give you more hours at work. Perhaps store your mock time sheet with the herbs and forty pennies (one for each hour you wish to work in a week) to create a jar spell. Or, burn the herbs and time sheet to release their power in to the universe. After this, employ your physical actions by reminding your boss that you are free to work more hours.

Just remember to use your focus, have a spirit ally, and to back your spell up with physical actions. Here are two other ideas for spells:

To make yourself more open and friendly, create a poppet of yourself (remember that poppets can be made out of anything – cloth, wax, clay, flour paste, paper mache, etc.) Call on the spirit of allspice to make yourself more warm and friendly. Mix the allspice in with the poppet you create or coat the poppet with allspice. Explain to the poppet what you want to happen. Store it in a safe place. Then, watch youtube videos or read books on how to open up and be more charismatic.

To increase your psychic awareness, draw a picture of yourself with a large purple third eye. Take some bay leaf, cinnamon, rose, or star anise and call upon their spirits for their renowned powers of psychic awareness. Place these herbs on the third eye of your drawing and meditate, imagining your own third eye opening and shining out a brilliant purple light. Store the herbs with your drawing as a jar spell and meditate with it once a day for three weeks, then after that once or twice a week. Your physical action should be practicing intuitive thinking.

Just as you practice spellwork, you will probably want to practice divination! Acquire some tarot or oracle cards, runes, or three pennies for the I-Ching. Or, simply use a book for bibliomancy. I will leave it up to you to research exactly how to divine, but let me tell you that spirit work and divination go hand in hand. Also consider using your plant or crystal allies to promote your divination skills and guide you to draw the right cards and make the correct interpretations.


I hope this post was helpful to some. If it raises any questions for you, feel free to contact me.

cut my heart out (watch me bleed) [J-Hope]

Pairing: Prince!Hoseok x Soldier!Reader
Genre: Fluff ; Angst
Word Count: 5144
Description: If you love hard enough, everything will be okay.

Author’s Note: This is my longest hobi fic #noragrets at all cos this took so much time but i like it also it kinda doesnt make sense butwtv…, dedicated to @syubingseok who is patient even when i torture her

Hoseok is not made for the battlefield.

Hoseok is soft — inside and out. Soft, unblemished skin, soft, uncalloused fingers, soft, undamaged hair, and most of all, a soft, unbroken heart. Hoseok is too lovely, with his toothy, radiant smile, and warm eyes, and glorious, loud, laugh.

Hoseok is too lovely, and Hoseok is not made for the battlefield. Those are two things you learn at a very young age.

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You will need:

A whole head of Garlic
3 large ‘iron’ nails
9 pieces of White Thread (7 inches long each)
6 pieces each of Black Thread and Red Thread (7 inches long each)
One White Egg
Water and Wine

Twist or braid 3 white, 2 red and 2 black threads together, melt a little wax and dip the threads so that it forms a stiff twine/wick like feel. Do this two more times so you have 3 waxed braids.

Place the nails in a fire until they are red hot, while still hot (you can let them cool a little bit) wrap each nail with a garlic leaf. Then wind one of the waxed threads around each leave covered nail.

In a dish or bowl make a triangle with the nails and place it in a safe place (or your altar). Place the egg in the triangle so it stands up, sprinkle with wine and water everyday.

Posted by, phynxrizng


So, I was making handmade books (or an album or a notebook) using available stuff found at home.. Very neanderthal way to do this tho.. using hammer and nails, and mother’s needle and thread. I made the album for the purpose of collecting my 2.5 years of travelling, including all museum brochures and maps! Ooo how I love maps. But then I realize that I need more space for the album, these ones are already full :( . Well, I guess I have to make another one when my back is not aching anymore. :p with blue ribbons!

Just Sorry? (Chapter 2/??) (M)

Summary: The Seven Boys throw a party to welcome back Jackson and Jaebum to the Mansion. You decide to tease both boys by flirting with their guests but neither of them are too please

Chapter 1: (x)

Warning: Smut ahead, Daddy Kink, Rough Sex, Explicit Language, Threesome later on.

Word Count: 2044 

Your nails dug into the soft threads of the carpet beneath you. Hearing Jackson’s question, you already knew the activities planned for you were not going to be for your benefit tonight. Then again, to go against the Seven Boy’s rules would always end up with a punishment. No excuses were allowed. Either you obeyed or they’d find another way to make you regret your decisions. Nodding your head at Jackson’s request, you kept your gaze on Jaebum, once again thanking the heavens the younger was doing the reprimands instead of him.

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