of your destruction

Headcanon that Hanzo got a job in a store once when he fell on hard times and he lasted literally three hours before he told a customer that if she didn’t control her horrible children he would personally kick them out of the store. Literally. Using his sharp metal prosthetic feet.

Jesse was really sorry to have to fire him - his new best friend for sure - because it was the best thing he’d ever seen, but thankfully Hanzo accepted his offer of a place to crash until he found his feet again. He also smiled widely when Jesse followed it up with an offer of dinner and a movie.

Maybe Hanzo just wasn’t cut out for retail.

Radiance

My dear Julian,

The brightness has never called to me. Darkness and shadows are by far more known and preferred, easier to slip in and out, easier to hide what I do not want found.

Even in exile I do not find that I miss the light of home, for I am constantly reminded of its harsh reality every moment on this station. Exposed has only ever been the feeling I’ve had with so much light.

Yet you remind me of the radiance of the stars themselves, rivaling the beauty of the wormhole and the warmth of a summer day. You shine as if you are my personal sun, and I, the lone planet trapped in your orbit.

Like a star’s gravity I am helpless but to spin around you, basking in your rays when you smile, enduring the radiation of your company. Even now I feel myself drifting closer, closer, until I will be pulled to my destruction by your hands.

I find myself apathetic to its inevitability, so long as I can experience your brilliance a moment more. You cannot know how it feels to open my eyes and find you there, cannot possibly feel the pull I am bound in. You burn so brightly it’s almost blinding.

But the vastness of space is dark and infinite, and someday your light will go out. I wish to never see that day, so naturally I know that I will. Oh, what an experience it would be to watch you implode. One last burst of light and warmth before you go cold. Cold as I have been for as long as memory. Longer. For all that I wish to teach you, I do not wish to part that lesson.

So please, do not shine too brightly.

Message Deleted.

ok i’m all for white candles being cleansing and black candles being used for banishment, but can we move away from always touting white as “purity” and black as “evil” because you can see what’s wrong with that, right. r i ght.

“Aries:
The heat inside you is within your head, a brain like a wildfire and a touch to match. Don’t let your thoughts burn you alive, don’t let people tell you you’re too lively. After all, fire is alive. Unleash it, don’t cage it; it will destroy you.
And I know you own a touch of self destruction, but your fire is not to be dimmed. Don’t let the fire run over your skin and burn you alive, burns will fade but scars will stay. You’re lovable.

Taurus:
The earthy complexion of you is in your throat, your words are calm and your voice makes others find solace within. You easily lull others to sleep, a voice for the screens. Words may tumble of your lips so effortlessly, and earth is oh so rational but look out; earthquakes don’t come with a time ticket.

Gemini:
The air gushes within your arms. Light feather swift movements, an arm around a friends shoulders. You may balance your plates so well, but watch out for obstacles, you don’t want to drop it all. A hug from you may feel like a breeze, you bring solace with a shoulder brush.

Cancer:
Water runs through your hands, a pencil that you know a bit too well. Pen on paper for another soul wrenching piece, maybe your fingers stray the strings of a guitar. You are the rivers, but also the sea; you’re unpredictable and that’s what makes you so dangerously beautiful.

Leo:
Your fire lies in your heart, conflagration. You burn and sow through forests of minds, don’t let anyone eliminate your spark. You’re a leader with twinkling eyes and vodka felt veins. A complexion of ancient treasure, don’t be so hard on yourself. You feel so much, don’t let the fire take you over, but don’t let anyone make it die.

Virgo:
You have earth in your stomach, hands that make dishes to fall in love with. You love food, your gut always tells you what you have to do. Listen, if your gut tells you that something is wrong than please, listen.

Libra:
Air runs through your kidneys, salt and something to let go of. A harmonious cycle with other organs. You create harmony, you let things go. Don’t drink too much water, don’t let people influence you in what to do, salty tears will spill too much. Don’t make yourself stop crying, you will ache too much; let it go.

Scorpio:
Water churns through the pelvis, a heated lover. A compassionate person, someone who needs affection and is intrigued with the dark underlaying nature of humans and human existence. Know you are never to be replaced, for it’s you who will kiss the eyelids of your lover. You trace outlines of constellations on freckles, and it may be imperfect but find someone who looks at you in a way that makes you think perfection isn’t needed, someone who looks at you like are enough. You are enough.

Sagittarius:
Fire swirls through your thighs, you have a wandering spirit with a mind that investigates every nook and cranny within your own world map. Your thighs are made to run, so travel, fall in love, and be heartbroken. Experience life, you’re worth the adventure. See it as a mission, and see yourself as goal. Find yourself, it’ll be your biggest travel of all.

Capricorn:
Earthquakes churning through legs made to walk and hike mountains, you may not love sports but you are made to climb. Climb the obstacles and mountains of your life, you have to overcome it. Work hard. You’re enough.

Aquarius:
Air swirls inside your ankles, your made to stand up. Stand up for yourself, for crowds, for others. Stand in front of people, tell your ideas. Stand up. You have a voice, don’t let it falter.

Pisces:
Your feet run on waters, a waterfront of imagination. Don’t run away from your problems love, yes your feet will carry you but you are not God. You need others, you can’t run forever, don’t get lost in your dreams to escape reality. Make reality so good you don’t want to sleep anymore. Live.

—  Elements in the zodiac
Never blame your fans

I know many of you artists - whether you draw, write, or compose - are frustrated that your original work, especially your dream projects, aren’t getting the responses you were hoping for.

I feel the same way.

But some of you express your frustrations completely destructively and blame the world for not giving you the spotlight.

When you do that, you’re blaming your problems for existing rather than adjusting and compromising to solve them. You’re making excuses for your mistakes. You’re demanding the world to change but you are not willing to change with it.

This is the perfect mindset to NEVER succeed in anything, ever.

You need to accept some basic truths of art before you can go any further:

  • Your art should teach you as much as or more than it teaches others: If you claim your art opens horizons and widens minds, yours should be the first priority. You cannot speak without listening. You are not a righteous prophet enlightening the heathens with the true word. You are one humble person and your art is one humble person’s story.
  • There are no new stories, but there are always new storytellers. That amazing idea you have that nobody’s ever thought of before? Someone has. But nobody has told the story your way, or drawn the character your way, or sung the song your way. Art is not about being new. It is about being you.
  • Popular art is all about the beholder. All these shows and games with so much fan art? They got to that level because they command a personal investment from and serve the viewer - they have worlds their fans want to be part of, and your canon will be swept aside along the way. You the artist are not a god or a wise sage. You are a guide and a footman. To be an artist is to be humanity’s servant, not its lord - and there’s no shame in that.
  • Most of your fans are not artists or art critics. While there will be a good number of them in your fanbase, the vast majority are not going to be super-open-minded creative thinkers who value every single opinion, outlook, and story just because it’s done technically well. They will be ordinary people with ordinary, selfish interests, and they will care about your content more than your talent. You have to balance what you want to draw with what everyone wants to see.

But the most important part of being an artist or really a person at all is to understand this:

Nobody owes you success.

Nobody is under any obligation to pay anything you produce a second glance or support or promote it in any way.

Nobody is spiting or robbing you by not giving you a like or a reblog or a follow.

Every single gesture of appreciation you receive from someone is a courtesy - a gift that you earn, not a right you’re entitled to.

It is not the job of your audience to love your work. It is your job to make it lovable. And just because you are working really hard does not mean you are working in the right direction.

I know that thousands upon thousands of artists put hours or months or years into a project and feel like they get nothing in return. Sometimes it is not how hard you’re working but what you’re working for that is the problem. 

Sometimes you need to slow down and think, “Do I have to have this just so? What would the kind of person interested in my work be looking for, and where can I address it? Am I maybe taking myself and my work a little too seriously?” 

And a lot of artists don’t realize that as an amateur, you are the sole proprietor - you are your art. Whether people like you determines whether they like your art.

And that’s why when you blame everybody else and post ungrateful, catty garbage like this:

… you don’t subsequently become the next Toby Fox.

The simple fact is that people will pay you attention if they think your offering + your hassle are worth their attention.

You need to create a world that someone other than you will have fun in and you need to be a good host to everyone who visits

You need a world that will welcome your fans with open arms.

You need to build a world people can live & play in.

And you and your world need to appreciate your fans just for showing up.

Because this is exactly what the big fish do.


because they spread your work around to more people without shanking you on credit and who gets the likes


because they make your work show up sooner & more often on searches and are simply a nice gesture


because they take time out and pay good money to listen to your story and make you from a pauper into a prince


because if you appreciate no one, no one will appreciate you, nor should they

🍖( ´ØwØ`)„ 🍟(ôuo )


(Chad belongs to/was drawn by @blesstale!!)

Aries: I envy you. I envy your courage, your stupidity and your childishness. Maybe you’re asking “Why?” Well, wouldn’t it be beautiful if we were all children at heart, like you? Like seeing things so horrible yet still making corny jokes? Like telling your feelings, like running until your feet hurt? Like purity, like innocence mixed with knowledge? You have experienced the world, you have experienced life. And yet, you still stand here. Brave and tall. As if to say “I am not afraid of life. I am not afraid to live.”

Taurus: I will always associate you with flowers and colours. With lilies and roses and blood oranges. I will always associate you with fruit and red-green-yellow. We will speak in colours, talk in words others won’t understand. With red-pink sand and blue-green eyes. An encouraging nod, a hug with clasping hands. Words left unspoken simply ‘cause they were never meant to be said, they were meant to be. They were meant to be. Plucking petals like a grade schooler playing games about love. Holding a magnifying glass over your head, and I could not find a flaw. I just saw you. I saw you.

Gemini: While you drink in the melodies of everyone’s laughter the ghosts find a new home inside your body. A facade of performance, masking out your true emotions. While the hallways turn vacant and your ghosts shut the doors. The voices leave the room empty, the emptiness in your chest weighing like a brick worth thousands of diamonds. I cannot put a price on your heart, I don’t know its colours. I don’t know its voice. Or the three albums you have on repeat over the summer, or the songs you dance to at night. Simply because you are you, unique, mysterious and beautiful.

Cancer: You are a puzzle and I am not your missing peace, I don’t own it. But you do. You make up your own being. Maybe you left it in your back pocket, next to the shattered dreams or under the pillars you build when you were eight years old. The ones you made to put your broken home on, searching for stability in broken mirrors. I will linger in my map of you and I swear that even when I get back it leads back to you. It always leads back to you. To that little house with orange paint on the walls from ten years ago. With the nicotine sticking to a once white ceiling and some kind of animals running around. The dusty photographs will still stand on the desk. You will still sit on that one spot, with teary eyes and crossed legs. And you will still be beautiful.

Leo: I could never describe your beauty. Your beauty cannot be multiplied, it can only be remembered, treasured, envied, appreciated or regretted. And by remembered I mean that when you feel like you are just another extra in someone’s life that they will mention you to their parents during dinner. They will talk about your shining personality and sparkling eyes. By treasured I am talking about that “the one” experience which you deserve. A treasure filled with all things unique and irreplaceable. One that’s filled with happiness. By envied I am talking about the eyes you do not see, or do not wish to see. Or don’t notice. You stand out in a crowd, especially when you don’t think you are. By appreciated I am talking about the ones who see your true you, your tangled hair and cracked lips. The ones who still stay even through the bad times. By regretted I am talking about the people who did not see your beauty until you blossomed. I understand why you find cocoons beautiful now, and how you like caterpillars just as much as butterflies.

Virgo: Snow litters on untouched skin. Sun rains through the cracks of the darkness even where you hide. I could hear you talking every day. Forever. With delicate fingers and blushed cheeks. Your hair untamed and your fingers bruised to the bone. Delicately logical. The edges of the leafs of oak trees remind me of your way of thinking. The overhang reminds me of your mind. Which casts shadows over the villagers in the houses you build where colourless souls reside. You are so often in debate with your own head, at war with your own body. Never at peace, always restless. Always asking, “but why?” I don’t know. You like it, don’t you? Parading around in your own world? Sweet little soul in a world full of pain.

Libra: The bell of the church echoed through your head a little longer than it should’ve. It never was nice. We never played nice. We talked until our lips were dry and I stayed home when you were out cold. But memories don’t matter anymore do they darling? In this orchestra of harmonious noises where you are the leader of everything nothing can hurt you. I don’t know, I don’t know. And goddamnit I know you will try to push everything on yourself again. You always do. That’s just how you work. Why don’t you warm your hands on your own body for once? You don’t need another person to feel like you’re loved, you only need one. One whole, full, true person.

Scorpio: Everything seems darker these days. Charcoal coloured clouds are a daily thing. And your arms are always covered up along with your legs. Even in the summer the nights don’t seem as enchanting. Not when small bruises shaped like the bumps of your knuckles litter on your thighs. Self destructive lullabies, “I just need a friend, for once in my life.” A desire for someone to stay ripped from your lips. So I stayed by your side wondering, if you wanted me to stay or needed me to stay. Of course I could say you remind me of scarlet blood and bathroom tiles. But you also remind of the river I used to play in when I was nine. You also remind me of the necklace I got when my grandmother passed away. You remind me of memories, the good, the bad, the in-between. You remind me of life. Please keep on living.

Sagittarius: The reason that I didn’t cry when you left was because crying means letting go, or so you said. And I don’t want to let you go. I want you to be a part of me, forever. But I can’t do that, you would rot in the hell hole that is my mind. I can’t put you through more cruelty. I hate how I am the reason you cry on bad nights, do you still wonder if I miss you? I do. I do. I do. Regret was stronger than appreciation. But you’re so fucking strong. Your eyes still shine even when you’re sad. You think no one likes you yet you know that’s not true. You’re the reason I am alive. You let me experience pain, beauty, emotion. You let me live. You’re so much more than enough, sometimes I can’t even handle who you are. You are dazzling. But you could never control your heart, it always wandered over the streets of other people’s bodies.

Capricorn: When the sun sets over mountains and the houses made of glass shatter I will still see your name in the sky in neon lights. The little bugs in our home always wanted to be friends with you. They always sat on the tip of your nose with gentle smiles. I never envied you, I wish I treasured you. You are so simplistic and nice. Nice. Too underrated for your own good, no? Aren’t we all. Your hands will still be remembered by those you touched. You always leave some kind of mark that they don’t want to wash off. You have that affect on people. You make them drown their thoughts and hold their breath when you walk into a room. You are an old soul, but you know that. Why? You just do. Because you’re you. And nothing can change that or the late nights, the slowness or the fastness in your walk doesn’t matter for the right people. They will walk for you until they have blathers on their toes. If they don’t you know what to do.

Aquarius: Swirls of icy wind are always your accomplice. You’re cold, and beautiful; like snow. The wires always stick to your senses, they get stuck in between your backbone. They twist around your spine and plug into the back of your brain. You let other people control you like you’re a mindless puppet. I think the wires got the best of you. Whenever you speak your mind it says something beautiful and unique. You are original, not ordinary. I am sorry they teach you that being unique is bad and that you have to fit into this ‘ordinary’ world as an ‘ordinary’ person. Nothing is ordinary about you, not even your name. Your name says who you are as a person, if someone asks me to define you I will simply say your name, the definition of your personality is your name. Because your name is unique and so is your personality. Don’t let other people control you.

Pisces: The imaginary butterflies with the raven black wings told me about you. They tell me that your head is in a universe they have never seen, with all things beautiful and all things bad. They see you crying with your knees tugged up sometimes, hands in your hair as you hide beneath sheets of darkness. You write poetry with the blood in the sink and make galaxies with the stars you find inside other people their eyes. A gentle smile always embraces your lips, “So happy, yet so sad” they say. A mask is something you believe is beautiful, but I believe you are beautiful. The real you. Not the you who cautiously walks over this realm of sadness. Your moonlit hair is so silky, your sunlit eyes are so sad. Chin up little soldier.

—  Letters to the zodiac signs
10

Here’s the Soulmate!AU collab @rickandmortygetschwifty and I did together! :) It was so awesome to work on this with you; you’re so amazing <3

Please, read @rickandmortygetschwifty ‘s part of the collab right here, under the cut!! (The comic will make more sense, after you’ve read it) Prepare to weep! The fic is long and heart-wrenchingly beautiful!!


For longer than you’ve known, you never truly understood what a soulmate was.

Your first memory was of your mother hovering over you, inspecting the reddening bruise that was blossoming over your knee. She was looking over at you in disapproval, tutting as she tried to hush your sobs.You couldn’t help the tears that ran down your cheeks as you cradled your leg and begged your mother to make it stop hurting.The pain you felt was unlike anything you experienced before. And so you cried and cried, hoping that your screams would drown out the unpleasant sensations.

Your mother simply picked you up, whispering sweet things into your ear as she bandaged you up.

“Oh, you poor little thing,” she cooed, flicking you playfully on the nose. “Rick, you need to be more careful, or you’ll make your soulmate sad too.

Keep reading

when faced with negative feelings, stop your self-destructive tendencies because it’s what you know best. i know forcing rationale and optimism feels fake and useless, but you have to practice. you have to practice inhibiting yourself from the portal of endless negative thinking and depression to a better, more rational and careful state of mind

melodrama (track by track)

green light: the haunting revelation of being free after the break up. but you don’t know what to do with that freedom. it’s frightening and beautiful and inspiring and it makes you lonely and excited all at once. you want to dance with friends and scream out the car window but you hit every red light just at the mere thought of ever moving on.

sober: depression and anxiety is wasting away your youth. you live for the weekend to come. you live for any kind of buzz. you sleep until the bright orange afternoon creeps into your window. but the night is always there for you. the parties, the confetti and the blue lights that rain down, is all worth it in the moment. until you realize you’re all alone.

homemade dynamite: all your decisions and all your actions are self destructive. every bottle of liquor you finish and every house you destroy, you know it’s a form of self hate. but it’s how you cope through all the bullshit.

the louvre: a evening drive through the city with your lover. the day is warm and the tar on the road is hot. the window is down and the air feels liberating. you want to love them forever. but it’s a sunday and your stomach sinks and nothing lasts forever. and now your at a house party months later and everyone is high and the music is booming and you see your ex across the room and you feel like you know no one there and you want to hide away so you leave and no one notices anyways.

liability: you blame the break up on all your insecurities. you blame it all on the way you’d call them every night crying. you think that maybe your sadness is contagious. you should’ve known to sterilize yourself from the start.

hard feelings/loveless: you pack up everything that belonged to them and put it into a box. you practice not having their name on your tongue. you attempt to forget the taste of them. you consider holding on and staying friends, but that anger overrules and you throw that box off the highway bridge. you’re over the aching and now you moved onto the hard feelings. you want to blame them for everything. summer nights are too long. mornings are empty without their texts of “good morning” and you taste this endless nostalgia for the rest of your life. but you don’t let them see this side of you. you let them see the anger. you let them think you’re indestructible.

sober II: growing up with drama stuffed inside of you like all the drugs and alcohol you consume, is tiring. you go through the motions and you nod to their questions and laugh at their jokes. but you know that this misery and that this young love is timeless. so you continue to go through the expected motions.

writer in the dark: that hollow ache in your chest when you realize that the break up is permanent, that this feeling of loss is forever. that nervous ache as you stalk their snapchat and Instagram and any other social media outlet, trying to see if they found someone else. that obsessive need to know if they still miss you, if they still love you and need you. that sickening feeling that makes you numb as you send them text after text but they never reply.

supercut: all the memories are blurry footage winding through your head. the time you ran down the hill, drunk. the time you said “I love you.” the time you looked at them on the roof of the car while you thought “I’m gonna be with you forever..” all the memories are fast forwarding and rewinding and pausing in your head and it is perfect and it is never going to happen again.

liability (reprise): you warned them from the very start. but did you ever listen when they warned you?

perfect places: everyone has a perfect place that is their getaway. but the reason for getting away isn’t perfect. it’s ugly and damaging and it’s cold nights like this that make you realize that nothing will ever be perfect. only for the moment will it seem like a person or a place can be your sanctuary. but the feeling never goes away. remember that.

Call what we had an oil spill. Call what we
had dirty laundry. Call how I pulled your face
from the concrete that evening when you wanted
a vehicle to tear open your body like Thanksgiving
dinner, manipulation. Call my name now and you
will not hear an exaltation, but a eulogy of every
negative aspect you can relate to a relationship.
Call your anger venting when we both know it
is you accepting the destruction of your own being.
Call what you and your new girl have pure spring water.
Call what you feel for her awakening. Call it revelation.
Call it enlightenment. Call what we shared poisonous;
ivy crossed with stinging nettle crossed with
nightshade. Call this disastrous persona you
carry something holy. Call yourself beginning anew,
and ending later. Call yourself magic; all starlight and
coal turned diamond. Call our ending the meteor that
avoided colliding with your planetary body. Call my
name a singe against your skin. Call your absence
blessing. Call this end retribution. Call her name
poetry incarnate. Call my aura an alarm you never
learned how to switch off after my leaving. Call this final. 

Don’t call me.

—  don’t // Haley Hendrick