you know what would definitely make everything so much better? ... another snippet from your angel/demon fic, please please please please <3
Dinner is a chance for them to check in, a weekly once-over that ensures they’re as safe and as happy as immortals in a human world can be. Family isn’t a word they throw around lightly; they’re all here because they choose to be, but they’re also here because the general consensus is that each of them belongs. There are some that are closer than others — Amy and Eoghan are more Niall’s brood than part of the core family, and then there’s Louis’ (and Harry’s) additions, Lottie and Fizzy and Daisy and Phoebe — but no matter what, they take care of their own.
And so that’s why Louis is supremely unsurprised when Niall drops into a chair across from him and Zayn at the table, the plates and glasses around them empty, his brows furrowed.
“Harry told me you two had a weird summoning this week,” he says, apropos of nothing, and interrupting Zayn in the middle of his meandering thought about how Bob Marley was totally qualified for sainthood and how it’s a crime he wasn’t given it.
“Weird summoning?” Zayn asks, letting the Marley conversation go easier than Louis would’ve expected. Louis sighs.
“Yeah, it was weird. Nothing bad, just strange,” he shrugs. “Bunch of kids in a basement in Yorkshire, and somehow they were strong enough to summon both me and Harry in the same day.”
“Maybe they had help?” Niall asks.
“Nah, don’t think so. I read through their spellbook before I burned it, but the Latin in it wasn’t even translated properly, it didn’t really make sense. So I think they just managed to accidentally use a really good spell instead of a mediocre one.”
“You know, now that you mention that,” Zayn says, “My visions this week had a lot of you and Harry in them, and they’re usually a little hard to understand but this week was even weirder.”
Niall hums, looking unsettled. “Don’t like that much.”
“I don’t either,” Zayn says.
“It’s no big deal,” Louis says soothingly, or at least an approximate version of soothingly. They’re clucking at him like mother hens as though this is his first time all alone in the big bad world. If there had been danger in that bland little Cottingham basement, Louis would have known, or Harry would have seen; between the two of them, they’ve survived a lot worse things than spotty kids playing witch in a basement.
“Just let me get the cards and do a quick look, it’ll make me feel better,” Niall says, getting to his feet. Zayn clears a space on the table, scooting aside the potato dish and the chicken bones and the fourth empty bottle of wine to make room for Niall.
They aren’t tarot cards, because Niall’s not a Seer — Stan is, and he could do an in-depth reading if he were here, even though Louis would still say that’s completely unnecessary — but the one thing Niall has deep in his bones is a well of magic, real magic, and these cards help him channel what he sees in his head.
Louis’ power comes from grace, holy buckets of grace imbued in his very being; Harry’s comes from the opposite — unholiness, Louis supposes, but there’s probably a better word for it. Witches and magic users draw magic from the Earth, and they can harness it, but they don’t own it, and it’s not part of them.
For Niall, and for others like him, magic is what took his family and made them above other humans. Magic is the extra strand in his DNA, as it were, and while he can’t always control it, he does always have it. Ready to be drawn on, a reservoir of power. And so he made these cards by hand, ages back, to put that magic to immediate use when he needs it. One look at what his magic-imbued subconscious picked out for him and he can paint a picture of someone’s past, present, or future.
Unlike a tarot reading, he doesn’t lay out multiple cards to paint a picture; he just needs one. He shuffles the deck and swipes through, until his hand stills over the one calling to him:
He lays it out, turns it over — a water wheel.
Niall’s brow furrows again, and he puts the card back in the deck. Harry’s drifted over as well, probably seeing the confused frown on Louis’ face, and he watches quietly over Louis’ shoulder.
Niall draws again, pausing over the card that speaks to him, and flips it over: this one is a throne on fire.
“Um,” Niall says, flicking a glance up at Louis and Harry. “That’s… odd.”
“What’s odd?” Harry asks.
“Well,” Niall says, exhaling slowly. “Normally, when I pull a card for Louis, I get the same one for you, because your destinies have always been all tied up together. But this time, they were different.” He stares at the burning throne card for a moment, then puts it back in the deck and shuffles again. “Maybe I just- just did it wrong.”
He’s never done it wrong before. Harry puts his hand on Louis’ shoulder, and when Louis looks up at him he’s biting his lip, watching Niall’s hands hover over the deck. His eyes are squeezed tight as his hand passes over the deck and he stills once again, choosing a card.
“So, for Louis,” he narrates, then flips the card — the water wheel.
He nods to himself, puts the card back in the deck, shuffles and chooses again.
“For Harry,” he says, and flips a card over — the burning throne.
“That’s…” he trails off, still staring at the card he drew.
“What does that mean?” Louis asks, peering more closely at the card, the painted flames licking at the crown lying abandoned in the seat of the throne.
“Erm, it’s not one set meaning, you know,” Niall explains, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. He looks around, sees that everyone else besides the four of them are engrossed in a competitive game of Jenga in the living room, and then meets Harry’s eyes, looking worried. “But I keep getting one word, over and over.” He winces a little. “Betrayal.”
Zayn breathes in, a quick intake. “Oh,” he says, “that, well. That reminds me — my visions were all over the place this week, yeah? Most of them are quick flashes of what’s going to happen eventually, but some of these made no sense. But one of them,” he pauses, also looking apologetically at Harry. “Well, it can’t be true, maybe we shouldn’t worry.”
“No, wait,” Harry says, bottom lip jutting out, his eyes anxious. “I want to know, just in case.”
“Erm, okay, but remember that this doesn’t necessarily have to be literal,” Zayn cautions. He takes another breath. “I saw… well, I saw you, standing over Louis while he was lying on the ground.”
“That’s not so bad,” Louis says, hopeful. “That could mean lots of things.”
“He had your sword,” Zayn continues, looking ruefully between them. “And he was about to use it. Against you.”
Harry’s hand clenches on Louis’ shoulder, and Louis can’t stand it.
“That’s not going to happen,” he says, point-blank. “It’s ridiculous to even think so.”
“Totally,” Zayn adds in quickly. “I could’ve seen it wrong, that happens sometimes.”
The thing is to be happy. No matter what. Just try that. You can. It gets to be easier and easier. It’s nothing to do with circumstances. You wouldn’t believe how good it is. Accept everything and then tragedy disappears. Or tragedy lightens, anyway, you’re just there, going along easy in the world.
i considered putting this under a ‘read more’, but in all honesty i don’t want to
i am not really the type of person to talk about things like this. not because i think they aren’t important or anything, but just because i have always wanted my blog to be a place where i can escape and enjoy art and goof off. but i have been seeing things people have been saying that make me sad and nervous and i want to put my two cents in. im not saying this is how people should act, i am saying this is how i approach things and trying to explain why.
the world has always been a place of conflict. there isn’t a time or a place where you can say everything has been 100% okay, and people have always responded differently depending on who they are, their experiences, their religion, their belief system. things have been getting worse and worse, i can see that i am not going to sugar coat it either. and people, as always, have been reacting differently. but what i am seeing now if people becoming divided over how people are responding even though they believe in the same thing.
my motto has always been ‘kill them with kindness’. sure it was something my parents taught me when i was younger, but that is not the reason i still practice that today. i’m not the type of person who can go marching in protest or reblogging things that might make other upset. is it wrong if other people do that? no of course not! but me personally, i don’t. i’m not the type to go punching a person i disagree with either. don’t get me wrong if i came across a white supremacist or a nazi i wouldn’t ask them to go have tea with me - at most i might scream my head off if they pushed me to my limit. but letting my anger get the best of me has never wielded very good results.
if i voiced my opinion in the household when i was younger, it would result in punishment. fighting back meant getting into trouble, and even threats of putting me into a mental hospital.
is it wrong to get angry of someone who is trying to ruin the lives of others? no! of course not! is it wrong to get angry at people who are on your side who respond differently? yes! the world is a crazy place right now, and i want to help. i help in a way that i think i truly excel in. service work, charities, listening to people i disagree with and attempting to start a debate that doesn’t turn into a screaming match of ‘the loudest is the winner’. just because i am soft spoken on issues and work in the background does not make me less of a person, does not mean that i don’t care.
i work backstage while you brave, outgoing people dance on stage and represent, but that does not mean i am not working just as hard to try and make this world a better place.
I want to give everything to you so badly,
I want to stroke every bit of you,
Fingers against your skin, brushing of hands against your chin…
My iris focusing on that soft face as my thrusts take you out of this space…
Let the biting of your lips represent the weight of my feelings, what I feel here right now with you softly smudged under me
I want you to feel…
To know I’ll always be your safe place,
I - the one who’ll protect you from your past self,
So hey? Listen…
Listen to every beat my chest makes,
Every sigh my breath lets
as I look right down at you and all I can do is moan and just stare
God! You’re beautiful!
Fuck what aunt Veronica said.
A bunch of laminated papers and school seals are not enough to validate how much of a genius you are…
You are Jade, my Jade…
And like the turquoise flowers you are impossible to ignore,
Forever fascinated by the stars, barefooted and in love with Earth,
Buttercup you are never too much to handle…
So right here and now with the sweaty friction between our thighs,
I want you to feel….
Bury those nails deep into my skin,
Scratch and claw,
Drag and pull
This affair goes deeper than the surface so excavate…
Don’t worry about hurting me,
And maybe if I didn’t bury my feelings so deep
You’ll feel what I feel.
How it is that animals understand things, I do not know but it is certain that they do understand. Perhaps there is a language which is not made of words and everything in the world understands it. Perhaps there is a soul hidden in everything and it can always speak without even making a sound to another soul. - Frances Hodgson Burnett
Goddess of night, of ice, of shattered carnival-glass hearts – in pieces, but in strong pieces. In the mirror your scars spell “broken”, “troubled”, “alone”; I run my hands over them and I feel “brave”, “strong”, “independent”. The mirror will lie until it cracks and splinters. I will not.
Goddess, I will speak these words into your skin until there are your synonyms for truth:
You are summer storms, electric and enticing; you are spring winds, clean and calming; you are rolling ocean waves and spiralling sunlight and everything beautiful in the world. Goddess of night, of ice, of shattered carnival-glass hearts:
You are strong.
Last week I did a series of smiles and I posted a few of my favorite John Reese smiles (here and here), but there are a couple I wanted to make a special post for.
This one. It’s a tiny smile, and it’s not as much aimed at Carter as a simple reaction to the story she’s telling - giving birth to her son. And John has that look of wonder on his face as he listens to her talking about things of her ordinary life. Giving birth, the making of a family.
And this is typical John. Despite everything that has happened to him, despite years of CIA formatting, John never lost this part of innocence, and his true care for humanity and people. It would have been easy to become detached from the world, and cynical. But John is not. Oh sure, he handles sarcasm like no one, but he’s not cynical. He sincerely believes in the good in people and that the world is worth saving. He believes everyone deserves a second chance. And he still marvels as the simple tales of ordinary people’s lives.
And that is what (among a few other things) makes John one of the most beautiful heroes.
I don’t know where to start this
letter for I have said everything and take all my heart out to show how much I
love you these long seven years of our relationship. I never thought that we
will reach this far, so far that I’m on my peak of my dreams – where my wishes
are slowly coming true. You are there; you are always there for me. YOU. Above all men in this world, you are the ONLYONE who stood beside me through thick and thin. No matter how difficult the circumstance may be,
we stick together and didn’t desert each other since we both know that God has
good plans for us and he will continue to guide us every step of our way.
believe that good men are gone, but you became the living proof that it’s all
just a theory for those who have been unlucky to find true love. And yes, I
believe everyone has control on their fate and destiny that will lead to them
their right lover the way I found you when my world seems so dark. You have
made me become the person who I never thought I could become. And there’s no
doubt that my life with you is more wonderful, sweet and colorful than I’ve
You’re simply amazing. Francis, baby, you made me the happiest I’ve
ever been. I love you so much dear. Happy 7th Anniversary!
PS: And after all these years, I’m still so into you.
sometimes i just…think about imperialism and colonialism and everything that it stole that can never be repaid.
england stole more than 700 trillion USD (adjusted for inflation) from south asia. they stole priceless artifacts of which there are only one of in the world, and still will not. return them. they destabilized the region; tensions were not perfect, but how many lives were stolen as a result of england’s actions? pakistan, india, bangladesh, sri lanka, all still suffer from the scars england left behind. i feel it in everything. all of us feel it in everything. i feel it like a phantom limb
our land is rich and our people are poor, whose fault is that? millions and millions of people are dead, whose fault is that? our own history has been robbed from us, whose fault is that?
this world is in ruins and all you can say is that we deserved it.
thank you all for your kind words. I’m glad my words have meant so much to you all. I’m happy to help and it means the world to me that it’s been so well received.
I do find it interesting though, I’ve gotten far fewer mean messages than I expected. like @semisomniac
said, there’s an expected inevitable backlash of hate that one should
get when challenging someone with millions of adoring fans, but…I can
count how many nasty messages I got on one hand, two only if you count
the replies, but it’s still under 10.
and that’s staggering when you think about it, but it’s a good thing. it means we’re all agreeing. we all recognize that that was bullshit and are refusing to be quiet about it.
Everything about nature inspires me,“ Swedish photographer Isabella Ståhl says, "Maybe I’m trying to inspire people to slow down and observe the world, or to bring shine to things that most people just pass by because there is this constant stress in life. I think it’s important to sometimes stop and observe the world as it is. It doesn’t necessary have to be something beautiful, just anything that is worth admiring.”