the glitter thread

🌺 Rapunzel Healing Spell 🌺

🌺 gather: a lily, sun water, gold glitter, white and purple thread, vanilla

🌺 sprinkle the inside of the lilly with the glitty and vanilla

🌺 close and wrap the lily up with the white and purple thread.

🌺 lay the lily in the sun water,, and sing/chant

“Flower, gleam and glow, let your power shine
Heal what has been hurt, change the fate's design
Make the clock reverse, bring back what once was mine
What once was mine…” 

🌺 drink the sun water. take precaution not to consume glitter. 

🌺 brush you hair, comb it with the remaining sun water. 

3

“[Aslaug] was the shield maiden Brynhildr’s daughter and was anxious to make her position known so her costumes are grand and very theatrical,” explains Joan Bergin (The costume designer for Vikings). To that end, she makes her grand arrival – hugely pregnant – clad in a glittering gold threaded gown and swathed in a colorful furs. “Those huge burgundy color furs and the girl is six feet tall and 8 ¾ months pregnant! Everyone went ‘Oh, my God!’”

2

Favourite TSC ships ♡ [1/?] →  Helen Blackthorn x Aline Penhallow

“Helen and Aline were both dressed in golden gowns, golden thread glittering like starlight in Aline’s black hair. They were both so happy, their faces outshone their gowns. They stood at the center of the ceremony, twin suns, and for a moment all the world seemed to spin and turn on them.”

  • junkrat, waving a pink cocktail as he talks: i'm thinking... glitter
  • junkrat: sheer, light, floaty. with threads of glitter.
  • reaper, sketching notes, with a pencil clipping slightly thru his ear: so, the opposite of last year.
  • junkrat: right.
  • reaper: fairy's a little on the nose, isn't it?
  • junkrat, sipping cocktail: hey, be glad i talked hog out of his fursuit idea
  • reaper: hold on. i wanna hear this.
  • roadhog, without looking up from his romance novel: 's not a fursuit. it's a were-boar costume
  • reaper: oh, that's good. i'm over-ruling him, you should do that
  • junkrat: oi, oi, wait a tic!
  • junkrat: if roadie gets to wear a fursuit on halloween, so do i

Night walking protection & invisibility glamour

For those of you in need of safe passage after dark, whether you’re out drinking with friends or roaming between ports, I’ve made a spell jar for night travel protection and invisibility.

As a lifetime collector of curio, I had lots of weird stuff laying around even before I started practicing, which I now use in my craft (that hobby of mine was perhaps a sign of things to come). But there are several redundant ingredients in this jar, and if you only have one for an intended purpose, that will serve you just as well.

  • A jar small enough to carry (a sachet is good too)
  • *Cat fur (for watchfulness, intuitiveness, silent movement)
  • Mugwort (protection, safe travel)
  • Poppy seed and/or mustard seed (invisibility, confuse enemies)
  • Paper and pen
  • Safe travel sigil (I used a pair of Icelandic sigils, one on each side, against theives and against evil by land and sea)
  • Dark blue glitter (protection, invisibility)
  • Gray thread (glamour, invisibility)
  • Candle (either dark blue, or one of the gray-scale colors: white, black, or gray)

Draw your sigil on your paper and charge it however you prefer, but a silent method may be preferable in this case. As my sigil was double-sided, I held it between my wrists and charged it with my pulse.

Set aside your gray thread. Light your candle(s), and begin placing the rest of the ingredients inside your jar as you focus on stilling your energy, cloaking it from those around you.

Take your gray thread. As you tie a knot in one end of the thread, whisper,

I pass through the night silent, light-footed,

As you tie a knot in the other end, whisper,

Invisible to all the monsters of the darkness,

Now loop the thread snuggly around the neck, and as you tie a knot to secure it, whisper,

And the shadows protect me from harm.

Cap your bottle and use wax from your candle to seal.

If you leave decently long ends on your thread, you can tie it onto a necklace, belt loop, etc, to wear.

*I hope this doesn’t need saying, but just in case, please collect your cat fur ethically. I used saved fur from a deceased kitty of mine. If you have your own cat, use shed hairs if possible. You can also scritch a friendly kitty with bent fingers, which they will enjoy, and after a few passes you should have a bit of hair on your hands.

9

Helen Blackthorn x Aline Penhallow

“Helen and Aline were both dressed in golden gowns, golden thread glittering like starlight in Aline’s black hair. They were both so happy, their faces outshone their gowns. They stood at the center of the ceremony, twin suns, and for a moment all the world seemed to spin and turn on them.”

8

helen and aline— they were both dressed in golden gowns, golden thread glittering like starlight in aline’s black hair. they were both so happy, their faces outshone their gowns. they stood at the centre of the ceremony, twin suns, and for a moment all the world seemed to spin and turn on them.

for @blackthornhelen, who reminded me we need more heline!!

stardusted  asked:

for the love you meme: alyanette, #30

30. Too quick, mumbled into your scarf

“Just set me on fire,” Alya grumbles as she pulls on layer after layer, cocooning herself against the gentle snowfall waiting for her outside the bakery’s front door. “Hey, you even have those little torches for caramelization, you could totally-”

Not do that,” Marinette finishes with a laugh as she steps in to help. She deftly buttons up the first sweater before wrestling the next sweatshirt over Alya’s head. “Isn’t this overkill? I’m sweating just looking at you.”

“I’m gonna freeze two steps out,” Alya grumbles. She gathers her hat, gloves, and scarf before they get lost in the jumble of the coat rack, and hangs them all on Marinette for safekeeping. “Not all of us are born radiators.”

“I am pretty hot,” Marinette smiles cheekily. She peeks up at Alya from beneath the hat, her blue eyes sparkling as Alya shrugs on an enormous, puffy jacket.

“Well don’t be rude, share some of that heat!” Alya laughs as she sweeps her jacket wide open like wings. She’s not sure who moves first, but then Marinette is right there, strong arms wrapped around her waist, broad smile tickling her neck. Everything else whites out as the wings of her jacket fold over the both of them, enveloping Marinette in her arms.

And Alya swears, she can feel Marinette’s warmth, sinking through all her layers and into her skin. She breathes in the delicate pink, the dizzying scent of sugar and spice, the breathless laughter, and buries her face into the threadbare scarf looped around Marinette’s neck, holding her all the tighter. There’s something like home, something like heart, that Alya finds in Marinette.

It’s always hard, letting go.

“You feeling better?” Marinette chuckles as she rubs circles along her back.  

“Yes. You’re the best,” Alya mumbles into her neck. The scarf catches her words and tucks them in between strands of yarn, warming them until they press back against her cheek like a kiss.  “I love you.”

“What was that?”

Alya shakes her head. “Stay a little longer.”

“Anything for you,” Marinette hums. “Just for you.”

“Is it a new mic?” Alya asks as she gently shakes the smartly wrapped gift in her hands. Marinette shakes her head. “I know. It’s a new espresso machine.”

Marinette rolls her eyes. “Ok first of all, the box is way too small for that, and second, you don’t need any more help getting caffeine into your system.”

A dramatic gasp escapes Alya as she bolts up straight, excitement burning in her hazel eyes. “It’s a flamethrower.”

This time Marinette doesn’t even bother rolling her eyes, instead burying her face and sighing deeply into the enormous ladybug pillow that Alya gifted her earlier. “Just open it already!”

“Alright, alright,” Alya laughs, finally setting aside her teasing to properly open the gift. She slices through the wrapping paper with practiced cuts and waits until Marinette’s lifted her head to watch before gently lifting the lid of the box.

Alya’s breath catches in her throat as a plush, thick scarf made of sunsets greets her, deep crimsons and burnished oranges and buttery yellows captured in yarn soft enough to be spun from clouds. Streaks of midnight blue and plum purple peek through, blending together so well that deciphering where one colour ends and the other begins is impossible. The scarf loops snugly around her neck, shrouding her with its delightful warmth.

With trembling hands, Alya runs her fingers to the ends of the scarf until she finds the distinctive embroidery of Marinette’s signature. She flips it over to look at properly, and is stunned when she finds, in glittering gold thread, I love you, I love you, I love you.

“You like it, then?” Marinette asks softly. A soft blush blooms on her cheeks as Alya moves close to wind half the scarf carefully, possessively, tenderly around her neck, joining them together.

“Like it?” Alya laughs, pressing a kiss against Marinette’s pink cheek. “Love it.”

send me a ship/two characters, and a way they say “i love you”

songinabottle  asked:

I'm sure you get a lot of these now, but... I'm loud, extroverted, and socially fluid. I'm an athlete but also a creator. Mostly I embroider or blacksmith. I'm femme, wear a lot of dresses and glitter, but my head is shaved, my septum is pierced, my tattoos are large. I read tarot for friends. Got any projections for my time at EU?

Most give you the wide, respectful berth smiths are always afforded. But over your time at Elsewhere, a good half dozen or so entities are infatuated enough with you and your glitter and thread and ink and fortunes to ignore the reek of iron and (very, very politely) attempt to court you. Your presence keeps those in your dorm safe, and if you chose, you could walk into any revel and leave at dawn unharmed. Smiths are given respect.

when the stars whisper

Originally posted by 1980vibes

Genre: fairy!au, based on @lthyl ‘s request which i delayed for a decade and half :*

Pairings: readerxjimin

Words: 3.5K

Summary:  When did we stop believing in fairy tales? 

PART 1, PART 2


There’s something whimsical about tonight. Maybe its  the way the stars appear brighter than usual, adorning the inky night sky like sprinkles of gold dust.

Underneath the vast expanses of the starlit skies, the city hustles and buzzes with life. Jimin watches closely, the way humans scurry around like ants lost in a maze of concrete jungles and streetlights. From where he sits perched at the very edge of a skyscraper, wind blowing his golden hair, he feels a certain longing bloom, unfurling its hopeful petals inside his chest.

 Hope is a treacherous thing and he’s afraid of the dangerous desires brewing deep within him.

It’s funny, he thinks, how humans waste away their lives longing for fairy tales and a life of wandering amongst the stars, but the stars don’t hold Jimin’s attention tonight. The only thing he painfully longs for in vain, is something further away to him than the stars are to the humans on this particularly starry night.

 *

There seem to exist certain blank spaces in between the events that you cannot recall for the life of you, and as you stare at the blossoms of blue and violet underneath the skin that stretches taut across your wrists, you can only hope that the you from the night before hadn’t really been involved in anything life changingly stupid.

Being the ever studious and ever so meticulous university kid you’ve always been, it’s hard to decipher what exactly had possessed you the evening before an extremely crucial test to give in to the whining persistence of your sometimes annoying best friend.  

“You’ve been glued to your desk for days, Y/N!” You remember her complain to you in her chirpy voice over the phone. “You need, like NEED, to blow off some steam before you self implode…  explode whichever.”

You spring off the bed, warily approaching the full length mirror that stands in the corner- it’s metallic edges, glint silver in the bleak morning light that now filters in past your rather translucent curtains, throwing a weak yet mesmerising spectrum of iridescence on your white walls. Giving into her constant whining had obviously been a bad idea when she had waltzed away from your side quite early into the night never to return again. Dancing had never been your scene so you groan somewhat remembering yourself flopped at the bar closest to the dance floor instead, as you tried to hold a pretty slurred and very much one sided conversation with the poor bar tender about the beauty of trigonometry.

Assessing your haggard reflection, you’re quite surprised that your drunken self from the night before had somehow held enough decencies to have at least changed out of the skin tight dress before losing to the sweet oblivions of sleep. You inspect your skin closely, twirling around in your ivy blue nightie that barely reaches the top of your thighs, and you’re genuinely pleased when you see no other bouquets of shameful violet decorating your skin. But apart from that, you’re a mess really. Your hair’s a hay stack- with your artfully styled curls resembling more of a bird’s nest now, and your eyeliner’s smudged, as if you had been crying your soul out all night. All that remains of your bright lipstick, is the faint residue of dusted rose that sits engrained within the delicate grooves and creases of your lips and you surely look like a character straight out of some low budgeted horror flick.

In that moment, you halt all movement, surprised when in the wake of a very faint memory which is enshrouded in a brilliant brightness and yet too fuzzy and unreal for you to be able to actually focus on. A slight tingle rushes across the plump flesh of your lips and you bring your hands to your mouth, running thin fingers over them, as you feel your heart beat quicken, for well, seemingly no reason.

“Well, well now-” A sickeningly sweet and ridiculously melodic voice, rings out across your room, and you jump, literally jump a mile out of your skin as you whip around.

“How good of a kisser I must be that you’re still feeling the after-shocks of last night, eh?”

Your mouth falls open in silent terror when your wild eyes finally find the boy, the absolute stranger, who lounges lazily on your bed as if he very rightfully belongs there when you definitely remember waking up alone. He stares back at you, a shamelessly wide smile stretching on his pretty lips, and the smile screams trouble and is nowhere close to sincere. You slowly back up against the wall, your trembling knees seeking the support of something stable because they threaten to give in otherwise.

He rakes a hand through his dishevelled hair, golden strands threading in between his slender fingers before slipping through like fine silk and despite the bubbling fear, you feel your heart flutter in a manner so strange that it’s novel. It thumps like a bass drum against your ribcage- and you’re almost certain that none of it is just because of the adrenaline that pumps alongside fear in your veins. You only watch mesmerized- so thoroughly smitten by the strangers beauty that you actually find yourself almost forgetting that you’re, infact, supposed to be scared, and, no matter how useless an attempt you should be desperately yelling for help. 

“W-who-wha-you?” You stammer out incoherently and your voice is an unfamiliar squeak. 

However he seems to understand, smirking devilishly in response as he, without a care, without a shame, locks his arms around the back of his neck only to lean back comfortably against the head board of your bed. His eyes never leave yours the entire while and you find yourself, withering away by the minute under his intense stare.

“So you don’t remember me? I’m kind of hurt here.” He sneers, smirk wiping clean off his face as a feigned hurt takes over his perfectly sculpted features.

 "I’ve n-never seen y-“ you are cut short and your claims still hang in the air with an empty hollowness because just then he moves so fast, you’d deem it humanly impossible.

And within a flash he’s standing in front of you, grabbing at your wrists  the moment you throw your hands up in defence. With an iron clad grip he harshly pulls you towards the bed, all along treating your body as if you were no more than a life sized rag doll. You let out a piercing scream that’s cut short when you stumble, helplessly falling flat on top of the mattress. Air whooshes out your lungs in a loud huff and alarms go off in your head as you take in the predatory stance with which the boy then leans down, hovering on top of you- trapping you like a defeated animal within the cages of his strong arms, effortlessly barring all your escape routes from underneath him.

“Humans are awfully forgetful.” He accuses, voice sounding a bit breathless. A thin veil of nonchalant calmness masks a desperation, an urgency much greater than what he shows. You swallow, shrivelling like a dead leaf under his the venomous gaze. You’re scared out of your mind, finally realizing how utterly helpless you really are. Lying underneath an absolute stranger in your own bedroom which had suddenly started to feel so foreign in his unwelcomed presence, you’re too afraid to envision the various blood stained scenarios that threaten to conquer your consciousness.

You whimper softly, a lone tear leaking down your face before you can even realize. Past your blurry vision you try to read the expressionless mask the stranger wears on his beautiful face, but it gives off absolutely nothing. Seeing your pitiful state, something seems to shift in his gleaming eyes, and appearing almost apologetic he straightens up, releasing you from his stronghold with an exasperated sigh. He’s obviously irritated by your inability to recognize him but no matter how hard you try to reach out for the memories that might hold even a fleeting glance of his face, his presence, you come up with absolutely nothing.You wipe your eyes, roughly with the back of your hands and as your gaze shifts up, you very embarrassingly notice, for the very first time the lack of clothing on the boy. He wears a pair of tight black jeans, hugging his thighs just right and ripped artfully at his knees and thighs, but other than that his lean yet muscular torso’s completely bare. It’s strange but you can’t help but notice the way he wears his own skin, with a kind of poise that makes his part-nakedness appear absolutely normal. Infact he even appears regal.

He begins to pace the room lazily, his hands covering his troubled eyes.

When he pauses for a moment his body facing the window and the streaming sunlight at a certain angle, it is as if you’re really looking for the first time and your eyes land on something you absolutely don’t believe seeing. Shaking your head, you blink rapidly- but they refuse go away; they don’t vanish into nothingness like they should, for there was no way on earth that they were real.

But given the angle they are at, growing like giant petals from his shoulder blades are the two thin membranes, fluttering a mile a minute. The boy cocks his head, turning to look at you over his shoulder, as if somehow sensing your bewildered gaze boring into his back. You find it hard to wrap your head around the fact that, indeed there are wings protruding from his back. W.I.N.G.S you spell out in your head for your sanity’s sake. For a moment they still, letting you see the network of veins running all throughout them like threads which glitter like gold everytime they catch the peeking sunlight.

"What are you?” you ask shakily, after maybe minutes or maybe an hour of being rendered speechless.
“A fairy.” He replies, as if he’s only stating the obvious and as if you're nothing more than one those difficult five year olds who only question the most self-explanatory things.

And then it hits you like a ton of bricks, the memory seeping in behind your closed eyelids like the same golden glow that that had lit up the darkest of alleyways the night before, as if the sun had descended down to the earth, merely to brighten that narrow strip of the world around the two of you. The memory comes with the soft sensation of his plushy lips, gently moving in sync against yours, the motion being so sweet, so full of emotion that you can physically feel the butterflies erupt in your stomach like a volcano. You can feel his harsh grip on your wrists, an action contrary to the ministrations of his gentle mouth and you can almost hear his ragged breathing, the thumping of your hearts. As the kiss gets fiercer with both passion and raw desperation so does the blinding light, which seems to be emanating from him somehow, grows brighter by the minute.

The memory comes to an abrupt end the same way the glowing boy had vanished from underneath your touch the night before, leaving you-reaching out for thin air, only to find nothing but the cool damp brick walls and the eerie darkness of the night.

“You’re the guy from the club last night!” You exclaim, cringing at how loud you were being.

He clicks his tongue, chuckling slightly as he turns to face you. “More like: You’re that absolutely breath-taking guy I made out with last night.” He corrects slyly, watching you become a hot mess with your blushing cheeks and indignant huffs.

 "Who also happens to be a psychopath, who calls himself a fairy.“ You retort.

But then your face is serious again, your eyes wandering over to find the tips of his wings,  rising from behind either of his shoulders, the very reminders of the queer possibility that the boy who stands in front of you might not even be human. "Fairies don’t exist.” you state bluntly, not wanting to believe any of it in fears of losing your sanity the moment you do.

“Yeah, the same way your brain doesn’t.” He mocks openly, eyes alight even though his face is deadpan.

“That’s it. Leave now or else I’m calling the police. Hell how did you even break into my room?” You threaten, trying to sound as convincing as possible even though you know your phone’s probably still in your bag which is very conveniently nowhere in sight. You’re sure he senses the emptiness of your threat as well for he shrugs as if to say go ahead, challenging you to do something you obviously can’t do. You don’t move an inch not knowing what to do really. Your eyes keep returning to the wings and you ache to touch them speculating whether they’ll vanish like a dream even with the slightest of your touch.

“What’s holding you back babe?” He asks you the obvious, enjoying your discomfort more than he should. “Just a quick reminder though… most normal humans don’t really see me. Also you should stop staring so much. ” He mutters the last bit and shocked you avert your eyes cursing yourself silently for being so stupid.

“Why do I see you then?” You ask wondering if he was only bluffing you just to keep you from calling for help.“That’s my question to you.” He says in response baffling you even further. “Why do you see me Miss Human.”

You don’t know whether you should laugh, at the sheer absurdity of it all. Not only was a psychotic full grown man telling you that fairies exist, but apparently you were a psychopath as well, seemingly gifted with some supernatural vision of sorts. What were you? A ghost whisperer for crying out loud?

“I’m real” he says, as if reading the turmoil that’s churns loudly in your head, his words looking to reassure to you, your sanity in this absolutely mad scenario. You give your head a shake when you find yourself almost believing him. No way any of this was real.

“Why are you here then?” You ask, standing your ground now more than ever. “Shouldn’t you be fluttering around in some magical meadow tucked away in the forests of never land sprinkling gold dust like confetti?”

“Well, yeah I truly should be.” He replies sounding rather honest, and it takes you aback.  “Also the pollution of the city is affecting my health- I don’t get how you humans live in such filth. Also Namjoon must be missing me.” He completes, saying it all more to himself than to you. You do not understand, neither do you wish to. You were an ordinary girl in an extremely ordinary world. You plaster an awfully fake smile onto your face. “You don’t wish to live in this little pigsty like world of ours, right? Then maybe you should just leave.”

 He chuckles and it’s a rather beautifully troublesome sound.

“Not just yet. This world might be a pigsty but I think I just found my favourite little piggy.”

 *

Time waits for no one.

Neither do you, Y/N- who won’t allow a strange nonsensical fantasy to threaten your very sensible reality. Y/N has never been late for a lecture in her entire 20 years of living and today was going to be no exception.

You storm into your bathroom before he can react, his little term of endearment grating on your nerves as if it were steel wool. You make sure to lock the door behind you (not sure if it were enough to keep a creature like him out though) as you turn on the faucet getting ready to shower. All by yourself, you somehow try to restrain the flurry of emotions threatening to claw out of your trembling heart and driving you berserk. You push fear and logic aside, instead contemplating idly as to what might have lead to you getting caught up in such a sheer misfortune spelled out like a curse on you.  Had you woken up on the wrong side of your bed? Or, had the foolish you assassinated the emperor of a holy land in cold blood sometime in your previous life? Either ways fate had finally latched on to your throat, deciding to make you pay in the most insane and mythic of ways; that was for sure.

Somehow pulling together a somewhat decent outfit and pulling your unruly hair back into a pony tail you stumble back out into your room. For a moment you hope to find the place empty, hope that the fairy had finally crawled back into his fairy tale where it rightfully belonged; but to your disappointment, like an embodiment of every single misery of your own, he stands there, arms crossed across his still very naked chest, in the very middle of your room. The memory from last night trickles into your mind and your heart beat grows erratic once again. An irrational part of you aches to be that close to him once again and that irrational you aches to feel him against you in a way where it was hard to tell where he began and you ended. A shameful blush blooms across your cheeks and you can only hope that it slips his attention. How many eons would it take to grow immune to his obvious good looks?

“Definitely not as sexy as last night but I still approve.” He sings and he seems to be scrutinising you the same way you’re doing him. And the sinister smirk on his astoundingly beautiful face makes the last of pink from your face fade. You literally growl at him in irritation, wondering if a human was strong enough to rip a fairy’s annoyingly pretty head off. However, violence wasn’t an option when your race against time had no intention of losing its pace and if you didn’t hurry you’d be late for your test.

“Go back to your mythical land you useless creature. I’ve got reality to attend to.” You sigh dejectedly, not knowing what to do or expect. How long was he planning on lurking around here? And it’s only for a moment but the smugness falters from his face, and you catch a glimpse of regret and something entirely else through the cracks.

You turn around not wanting to see anymore. Grabbing your house keys from the nearly shelf as you head towards the door to your apartment, you half-heartedly hope that a fairy would have better intentions than burglarizing the flat of an already debt ladden university student. “Well then I hope you enjoy your stay here. Just make sure you disappear by the time I get back.” You say without turning back. Your words are met with silence when you had very much been expecting a lame sarcastic retort and you whip around, your eyes searching for the fairy but finding him nowhere. Maybe you had hit a nerve with your sharp words, maybe you had been a bit too harsh. He was gone.

You should be rejoicing, truly rejoicing. Afterall, you had finally woken up from your rather drawn out nightmare, but you fail to understand why instead of relief your heart gives you a painful squeeze, leaving you slightly breathless and uneasy. You think back to the inkling of sorrow you had witnessed on his face a few moments ago and you find yourself curious as to how devastatingly beautiful the curve of his plush lips lifted into a genuine smile would look like. You didn’t even know his name, that is, if he had one.Guess you’d never know now and maybe it shouldn’t bother you this much. He was gone and this was definitely good riddance.

You’re not convinced.

“What’re you spacing out for?” His voice rings out once again but definitely not from where you expect it to come from, but you feel the cool touch of his hand as it wraps around your own and you almost immediately jerk back in absolute shock, either from the sudden charge that cackles like electricity where his skin’s comes into contact with yours or from the fact that he’s standing outside your door instead of inside your room- a door he had definitely never gone through. Of course you think.

“So where are we headed?” He asks, his mask of smugness back on in full throttle and the mischief in his voice as present as ever.

“School.” You mutter brushing past him as you go on ahead before he notices the way a silly grin almost threatens to break through.

“Also… put on a damn shirt you monster.”

Stitching time: 23 days

Things I hated about this project:

  • Glitter thread
  • Using three strands instead of the usual two. It means you can’t do that fold-one-strand-in-half-and-use-the-loop-to-start-off trick
  • Fucking glitter thread
  • Black gets reaaaaalllly boring after a while
  • Glitter fucking thread
  • They precut the black thread into stupidly short lengths, so I was constantly stopping and starting - pretty annoying
  • FUCKING GLITTER THREAD
Drowned in Life

Tender rays of the sun try to pierce the emerald green deep water. They reach and reach, and reach, but they are never quite able to reach the very bottom of my personal lake. I lie here, partly covered with sand, feeling as everything around me is floating. I want to raise my hand, I want to touch those glittering threads of the pale sun dancing through the deep, but I cannot move - and at the same time every atom of me is moving, I am floating with the water, in the water, I am the water, I am…

Am I?

The very existence seems just some obscure and hazy shadow on the surface of the water, without any shape, without meaning or a name. I dissolve in the emerald water, I am nowhere and yet, I am everywhere, I seep into the sand deeper and deeper, beyond the bottom of the lake. I…

The alarm clock rings, its sound instantly giving me headache and an acknowledgement of the beginning of yet another working week. I get up, eat my breakfast, ride to work, do the tasks for the day, chat with coworkers, ride home, dine, watch some TV, read a few pages, and go back to sleep.

In my dream, I float, I feel the gentle caressing touches of sunlight on my silvery surface. I vaporize and levitate in the crystal air, then I fall in thousands of raindrops back, crashing into the dark surface of my fathomless lake, I raise the sand from the bottom and swirl it into my crazy dance, I am everything and nothing…

The alarm clock rings.

Another day starts.

I follow my routine, but the sad ache in the back of my head makes everything surreal. The engine wouldn’t start - oh well, let’s take a bus. I plug my headphones, blankly staring in the window on the greyish colorless streets. I am awake, yet I’ve never felt so lost, drowned and crashed by reality.

Somebody gently touches my hand. I step back without even looking, hiding my hand in the pocket. Somebody tenderly puts one hand on my elbow, plugging out the headphones. What an outraging obtrusiveness. I am ready to scream, to shout, to hit the troublemaker - I take a deep breath and… Our eyes meet, and I can see the sunlight in them, the warmth and life I’ve been searching for so long. I am lost in your glimmering light, kindness, love and calmness you emanate.

- Marry me, - you say, and these tiny two words rip me out from my emerald lake, they tear me out from my endless sleep, filling my veins with electricity and vitality.

- I will, - I smile, and I have never felt more awake and more human.


© illirein 2017

Day Two - Star Knight

As the Black Paladin, Keith escorts Allura to an interplanetary gala. He needs some liquid courage to get through it all.

For Day Two of Kallura Month.


I can’t do this. The cravat is almost suffocating him. The jacket is too tight around the shoulders – too formal, too stiff. When he tries to, he can’t even lift his arms over his head. The black fabric is slashed with golden accents across the chest, fit for some fancy nobleman and not for someone like him.

I can’t do this. With only a few minutes left, he glances in the mirror. His hair has been parted to one side and his bangs have been styled back off his forehead, and the person standing in front of him is a stranger.

I can’t do this. He raises a hand and the stranger copies him. On the outside, he’s polished and confident, ready to meet foreign dignitaries and charm them with his unmatched wit. On the inside, he’s a tempest strong enough to bring the castle to the ground.

I can’t do this. He doesn’t belong beside Princess Allura. Even as the Black Paladin, he’s not talkative enough, or friendly enough, or even courteous enough to be her escort. Too rough, too quiet, too blunt, too moody – he can hear their whispered criticisms already.

A knock sounds on the door, and he wishes that he could crawl under his bed and hide there for the rest of the night. “Keith, it’s me.” Allura’s voice causes him to straighten his shoulders. For the princess, he will be brave. For her, he will do anything.

“Come in,” he says, and the door slides open. The ceremonial, dulled sword hangs heavy on his hip as he turns to face her, the sheath bedecked with more gemstones than he’s seen in his entire life.

The sight of her only makes him feel more inadequate. His chest hollows as he takes in her golden dress, tailored to the enticing silhouette of her body. The threads glitter with each step she takes, capturing starlight and reflecting it across the room.

Her silver hair is half-up, baring the smooth curves of her neck. Delicate chains connecting solid-gold flowers are entwined throughout the thick tresses. He has never seen anyone, or anything, as beautiful as her.  

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anonymous asked:

Sorry if this is weird but do you know any stores (Walmart, target, meijer etc.) that sell things that can count as stim toys ( parents won't let me go to any stim websites )

Anon, offline stores sell a surprising amount of toys that work just fine as stim toys. These sorts of toys are at least two thirds of my own stim kit/collection. The increasing availability of fidget cubes and spinners only makes this even easier!

All of the stores you mentioned will stock stimmy things, so I’ll approach this ask on a general rather than specific basis by listing the sorts of things I’ve found in dollar and department stores and where I’ve found it. You can check the tags for each store (Walmart | Target | Meijer) to see what has been posted previously on this blog. You can also check out this ask on household stim toys and this ask on classroom stim toys for some good ideas. Aussie/NZ department store K-Mart has a really fabulous range of stimmy toys, so you might like to check out our tag for toy ideas.

This list will be prefaced by the fact that I am Australian and my knowledge is based on the toys I’ve found locally (regional Victoria and Melbourne) and the content I’ve seen in other dollar, discount, department and gift shops on my travels around Australia. However, I suspect that, in Western countries at least, the content of one’s discount shop isn’t like to be that wildly different.

I’ve included components for DIY toys as well, in case you want to explore making your own toys.

Counter displays: Spinners, fidget cubes

Party Goods: Bouncy balls, jointed snakes, mini plastic slinkies, mini stress balls/sports balls, bubble blowers, hedge balls, hedge creatures.

Toys: Bouncy balls, Play-Doh (real or imitation), Kinetic Sand (real or imitation), plush/soft toy animals (as they are or turned into weighted plush), stress balls, slime, floam, bubbles, slinkies, Rubix Cubes (imitation), dice, puppets, dough cutters and moulds, marbles (for marble mazes and loops, but also for fidgeting), snake puzzles, water snakes.

Baby: Teethers, bath toys, plush animals, facewashers.

Sports: Prickle balls, inflatable sports balls, stretch bands, roller massagers.

Haircare and Makeup: Blending sponges, telephone cord bracelets, makeup brushes, makeup sponges in general.

Jewellery and Accessories: Plush/fluffy keychains, silicone necklaces and bangles, silicone wristbands, silicone keychains, beaded keychains, glitter bracelets, tassel keychains.

Stationery: Packets of keychain/split rings (for beaded pendant necklaces, tutorial forthcoming), puzzle erasers, dice.

Pets: Prickle balls, prickle rings, braided rope, rubber balls.

Cleaning: Dusters, hand mitts (weighted plush), chenille broom covers (weighted plush).

Kitchen: Jars (for glitter jars), cookie cutters (for dough and kinetic sand), textured silicone placemats/pot holders, trays (for dough and kinetic sand), bowls, spatulas, (for storage or making of dough or slime), containers (storage).

Crafts: Glitter (for glitter jars, dough and slime), glue (for glitter jars and slime), fabric (homemade marble mazes and bean bags), pom poms, plastic tub jars (for glitter jars), thread (marble mazes, bean bags and weighed plush), beads (all the fidgets and jewellery with beads).

Homewares: Essential or fragrance oils (weighted plush and bean bags), potpourri and dried lavender heads (weighted plush and bean bags), glass counters (weighted plush, fidgeting).

Groceries: Rice, beans, soup mix (all for weighted plush and bean bags).

I hope this gives you some indication, anon. There will be things I’ve forgotten. The short answer, though, is that there’s plenty of stim toys in department stores. Just take the time to wander through the aisles, if you can, because you’ll be surprised at what you might find!

- Mod K.A.

4

Helen and Aline were both dressed in golden gowns, golden thread glittering like starlight in Aline’s black hair. They were both so happy, their faces outshone their gowns. They stood at the center of the ceremony, twin suns, and for a moment all the world seemed to spin and turn on them.

Helen and Aline drew the marriage runes over each others’ hearts with steady hands. When Aline drew Helen’s bright head down to her own for a kiss, there was applause all throughout the hall.