soul business

anonymous asked:

In your opinion, why do spells and witchcraft work? Is it just the belief part or are there other reasons?

I’m glad I get to answer this now because the answer I would have given when I first got this would have been shitty, but now that I’ve received my first reiki treatment and some advice from the reiki master who worked on me (shout out to Thema’s Holistic Soul Energy business, Black witches doing big things okayyyee <3 <3 <3) , I can answer wholly.

I believe that the foundation of a spell is the energy you put into it when you cast it. The ingredients for the spell, the physical attributes, only help manifest and focus the spell. Without the foundation of your spiritual self, the energy inside you, everything falls apart and either doesn’t work at all or backfires. I’ve had this happen a lot, and Thema (the reiki master) helped me realize that the energy within myself (my chakras, most likely) are imbalanced and are causing my spells to go haywire.

Remember this:

As above, so below.

As within, so without.

As the universe, so the soul.


On this day in music history: March 10, 1967 - “I Never Loved A Man The Way I Love You”, the eleventh album by Aretha Franklin is released. Produced by Jerry Wexler, it is recorded at FAME Studios in Muscle Shoals, AL and Atlantic Studios in New York City from January - February 1967. When first signed to Atlantic Records at the end of 1966, producer Jerry Wexler originally intends to record Franklin’s debut album for the label, during a week of sessions at Rick Hall’s FAME Studios in Alabama. Unfortunately, all does not go according to the original plan. After recording “I’ve Never Loved A Man”, and the basic track for “Do Right Woman, Do Right Man”, the sessions are abruptly aborted when Aretha’s husband Ted White gets into a drunken argument with one of the horn players at the session. Aretha and Ted argue back at their hotel room, then fly back home to Detroit the next morning. In the interim, Wexler sends out acetate copies of the completed “I Never Loved A Man (The Way I Love You)”, to key DJ’s around the country who begin giving it heavy airplay immediately. Following the immediate breakout success of the single, and time being of the essence, the producer calls Franklin and the musicians she recorded with in Alabama, to New York City in early February to quickly finish album to accompany it. Racing through a weeks worth recording sessions, the album is completed and prepared for release. A huge critical and commercial success upon its release, the album provides Franklin with her long awaited commercial breakthrough, and also establishes her as a major force in the music industry. It spins off two singles including “Respect” (#1 R&B and Pop) and the title track (#1 R&B, #9 Pop). First released on CD in the late 80’s, it is remastered and reissued as an audiophile gold CD by Mobile Fidelity Sound Lab in 1993. Rhino Records also releases a remastered version of the mono mix on CD (regarded by many to the be the superior mix) in 1995 including three bonus tracks. It is also reissued as a 180 gram vinyl LP by 4 Men With Beards Records in 2001. Rhino also reissues the mono version of the album as a 180 gram vinyl LP in 2013. “I Never Loved A Man The Way I Love You” spends fourteen weeks at number one (non-consecutive) on the Billboard R&B album chart, three weeks at number two on the Top 200, and is certified Platinum in the US by the RIAA.

when u overhear someone talking about kidney function

and they say it’s a right not a privilege

RFA + Vanderwood and V, kisses with tastes


She kissed you once, twice, thrice as you sat on the counter, her hands on your knees and her thumbs brushing against the edge of your skirt. She tasted like coffee and the apple pie caramels you’d gotten from the corner store down the street, and it was so thoroughly her that it made your heart throb. It like she lived and breathed her cafe now, so completely had she poured her soul into the business, and you loved it just as much as you loved her.

Her heart, her passion - you could feel it when she kissed you and also when she retreated slightly, her gaze dropping down in still lingering shyness. You couldn’t help but smile as you eased her chin up with a single finger. Look at me, the gesture said, something small, sweet, but insistent. Look at me and everything you have now.

Jaehee didn’t know how to approach a woman, didn’t know how to handle all of this happiness - but her smile crumbled less now as the months had gone by, and the newfound hope in her gentle brown eyes shone with a light that you could only call precious.


You were the one who kiss him, long and slow after having stolen the PhD Pepper he’d been about to drink. He’d looked up at you in shock as you’d chugged it in one fell swoop before crushing the can between your fingers and dropping it into the trash. He’d been about to say something before you interrupted it with your mouth, and you could still taste the soda on your tongue as you kissed him slowly and deeply.

Your hands framed his face and, after a moment of shock, he covered them with his own, shifting himself on the chair so he could push up into the gesture. After about a minute, you grew tired, starting to feel the ache in your shoulders from the odd position - but, when you finally pulled back, Saeyoung’s solution was to wrap his arms around you and pull you into his lap.

“Oof!” You grunted, the sound followed by a laugh that spilled out after seeing the delighted grin on Saeyoung’s face. ”Well, hello there, handsome. Come here often?”

He beamed up at you, showing off all his teeth in a particularly mischievous grin. “Of course! What’s not to love? The company’s wonderful, the scenery’s fantastic, and the drinks…”

Very lightly, he tapped your mouth with the tip of his finger, his smile softening into something filled with profound, helpless love. “…Are to die for.”


He kissed you lightly after dinner, and you kissed him back, playfully licking at a stray bit of pasta sauce that lingered on the edge of his mouth. Yoosung flinched back in surprise, touching the still wet spot - and then his face broke into smile, bright and warm and just like the sun. “You could have just wiped it off.”

“Nope!” You stuck your tongue out childishly, and then tapped his cheek, still able to taste the smooth, creaminess of Yoosung’s latest culinary masterpiece. “You’ve gotten so good at cooking, that I just can’t let anything~ go to waste!”

Yoosung stepped closer to you, brushing aside your bangs before pressing a light little smooch against your forehead. “You don’t… know how happy that makes me,” he admitted in a whisper, his lips still touching your skin. “Hearing that… I love you so much!”


You leaned over the dinner table with it’s pretty white cloth and it’s pretty polished silverware, but the prettiest thing in the room was the man across from you with a glass of wine in his hand, the deep, ruby red set so brilliantly against the dark black of his suit. As you brushed your lips against his, you giggled, tasting the alcohol and the sweetness on his breath. He leaned against you softly, but otherwise remained still, and when you pulled back, he looked at you from beneath his long lashes.


The wry tone in his voice made you laugh again, and you put your hands down flat on the table, leaning into for another kiss - longer, this time, with just a little more fervor. “Never.”

Jumin set the wine down, far enough away that it wouldn’t spill, and cupped your cheek with a single elegant hand. That was good - neither was he.


Before you left for work, you commented on how nice your new chapstick tasted, and of course Zen had to confirm your assertion by sweeping you up into the doorway of your shared apartment and kissing you.

You laughed, the giggle bubbling up from your throat, and you could feel him grin as he pulled you up to him and nibbled on your lip. It was strawberry, made sweeter and milder by the added taste of honey, and you could taste it to as you went in for another kiss. And another, and another, until you had to push him away by his shoulders, not really wanting to go but knowing you needed to be a responsible.

He watched you reapply your chaptstick, grinning like a puppy as he waited to see you off, and you knew he was planning to resume where he left off when you returned.


He tasted like the cream from the hot cocoa he’d just set on the table, and you leaned against him on the couch, brushing his hair lightly with your hand as you kissed. It was snowing outside, which you described to him in detail, from the quality of the light to the way each pale drop built up into clean, endless drifts. He loved it when you did that - loved your voice, loved your way with words, loved the stories you crafted for him there, before the fireplace and in the privacy of your home.

In this - in everything - you showed him a different world, one in where he could be happy and everything was so beautiful.

You kissed him again, and then placed a gentle peck on his nose, rubbing off the chocolatey mustache on his upper lip with your thumb. He smiled, taking your wrist between his fingers and moving your hand so he could kiss each finger one-by-one.

The light, tickling feeling made you laugh, as did his smile, those thin lips curving into an expression of honest joy.


They kissed you against the wall, mouth still flavored with the cigarette they’d been smoking moments before. It slipped from their fingers, and their heel ground it into ash as their now freed hand found your waist. Ah, they were hungry, but it was such a tired hunger - desperate rather than ravenous, and too exhausted to be overtly passionate. They held onto you, cupping your chin and sliding their palm up your side, and you buried your fingers in their hair, murmuring against their mouth as you pulled back for air.

“Vanderwood.” It was a quiet word, each syllable fond and teasing as a grin quirked at your mouth. You knew their real name, called them by it in private - but Mary Vanderwood the III had been the identity you’d first known them as, and you still had a special fondness for it.

Vanderwood. It sounded like a school or a little town at the bottom of a hill, and returning to that name brought forth a wave of fond nostalgia.

You breathed out, and they kissed you again, because no matter which one you used, they could taste heaven on your lips when you called their name.

Wrote these as my bedtime stories. ^^ Hope you enjoy!

so I’m minding my business just dabbling with writing some smut and it involves Bucky pulling his jeans down but like, when he gets to his thighs he has to like roll them down cus his thighs are just so damn thicc and fuck idk man that image just did things to me