the signs as aesthetics!

Aries: Lightning bolts, messy sketches, willow trees, fishtail braids, spotted puppies, classroom doodles.

Taurus: Thunderstorms, art supplies, cherry blossoms, heart-shaped sunglasses, knee socks.

Gemini: paint on shirts, bluebirds, space prints, vanilla milkshakes, night sky petunias.

Cancer: Opal stones, handwritten letters, blowing bubbles, the smell of petrichor, undercover kisses.

Leo: Sunflowers, adding milk to coffee, freckles, sun hats, cookie dough, tennis skirts.

Virgo: Macaroons, rolled up sleeves, typewriters, loose ties, peaceful snowy nights, empty art galleries.

Libra: Rainstorms, bath bombs, ancient temples, fawns in cemeteries, skull rings.

Scorpio: Chokers, misty mornings, black nail polish, ice cream in bowls, black cardigans.

Sagittarius: Sunrises in the city, watercolours, thick eyebrows, the sea after a storm, misty mornings.

Capricorn: Red lipstick, undercuts, starry nights, playing piano, greek statues, winged eye-liner.

Aquarius: Greek statues, crescent moons, bruised knuckles, geodes, loving stares.

Pisces: Purple skies, wildflowers, peaches, ballet shoes, flower crowns, picking blueberries.

I’m the kind of person who finds an incredible peace in thunderstorms. Lightning screams through the darkness, destroying trees and telephone poles. Thunder shakes entire cities, waging war in the clouds above our heads. Rain and hail pelt windowpanes and dent the hoods of cars. All of this fury surrounds me and I sigh, and my shoulders relax, and my heartbeat slows as though I’ve returned to my own bed after being away for a while. I wonder if I’m made of chaos, and that’s why a storm feels like home.
—  Z.M.
1) Take a bubbly bath with scented candles.
2) Read your favourite book.
3) Do things that you love.
4) Remind yourself that after every storm there is a rainbow.
5) Go for a long peaceful walk.
6) Bake yourself a cake.
7) Go to the beach.
8) Take a trip into town with friends.
9) Talk to the person you trust the most.
10) Pamper yourself.
11) Treat yourself to something you’ve wanted for ages.
12) Watch your favourite film.
13) Pet an animal.
14) Do something creative.
15) Go to the movies.
16) See a child laugh.
17) Travel to somewhere you’ve never been before.
18) Listen to fast beat songs.
19) Remember there is always chocolate.
20) Build a fort.
21) Have a nap.
22) Drink tea.
23) Spend time with your best friend.
24) Make a bucket-list.
25) Have a picnic.
26) Dress yourself up even if you’re not going anywhere.
27) Get off social network sites and go outside.
28) Smile.
29) Have a sleepover at yours.
30) Remind yourself that it is okay to be sad.
—  Things to do when you are sad.
Zodiac Sign’s Favourite Weather

Capricorn: Not too sunny, Not too overcast, Inbetween is just perfect for a Capricorn.

Aquarius: Storms aren’t your thing, you’re a beach-goer, sun-loving person and adore clear skies all the way.

Pisces: After it’s rained is your favourite weather. When there are rainbows in the sky, rain droplets on the ground and the sun has come out.

Aries: When it’s snowing is your favourite weather, it’s so chilly and peaceful surrounded by icicles and all that white.

Taurus: Your favourite weather is the rain, so peaceful with the misted sky, dewy flowers and the pitta patta of the droplets.

Gemini: If it’s windy, but not too windy, that’s your favourite weather. Enough to hear the howling of the air, but not overpower everything else.

Cancer: A warm spring morning is a Cancer’s ideal weather. A few small showers here and there, but nothing too drastic.

Leo: Leo’s aren’t a fan of rain, but their favourite weather is overcast skies and a hidden sun.

Virgo: You adore storms, the rolling thunder, the black clouds, the harsh beating down rain.

Libra: Hot, hot, hot! Nothing with with a good bit of sun, and white clouds a Libra would say.

Scorpio: You love a small bit of thunder and rain, but clear blue skies after the storm.

Sagittarius: Snowing and hail, if you’re inside of course, huddled around your fireplace wearing comfortable socks.


This is my shortest one yet. And came dangerously close to breaking one of my rules haha

Kinda NSFW Manorian

In the dark hours of the night, Manon lay beside her Princeling. The sheets hugged her bare skin as she moved to face him. Dorian rarely looked peaceful, even after the war, because of the memories that still haunted him. And at the thought of the horrible things he couldn’t remember. But right now he was peaceful, laying on his back with one hand behind his head, the sheet barely reaching his abdomen. He rarely got cold anymore.

Manon stared at him awhile. Few men would dare to sleep so soundly next to an Ironteeth. Then again, few men would be foolish enough to ask to court an Ironteeth. But Dorian didn’t scare easily, and he accepted who she was. Just as she accepted him, magic and all.

Manon was about to drift to sleep when she felt a chill go through the room. The fireplace flickered out, and soon he could see her breath. Goosebumps formed on her skin. As she looked at the king, she was startled to see how pale he was.

He reached out to grip the sheets, eyes screwed shut so tight there were wrinkles in his skin. But the thing that nearly broke her was the whimper that escaped his lips. He sounded pained, frightened, weak.

Manon reached out to him, cursing as ice coated her fingers. Still she cupped his cheek, shaking him. Urging him to wake up. But the ice continued up her arm. Soon she found herself straddling him, shaking him with both hands. But the ice kept going, reaching her shoulders as her fingers started to turn purple.

At a loss for what to do, Manon did the first thing to come to her mind. Her iron teeth slammed down, and she bit the King’s shoulder. She flinched as he yelped, but it woke him up. And Gods, the taste of him. It called to her, winter winds and the first snow, and woke some part of her she hadn’t realized was asleep.

Suddenly, Manon found herself on her back. Dorian’s blood dripped to her chin, she could see the puncture wounds already healing on his shoulder. She also saw the icy talons held against her throat, the confused look on Dorian’s face.

“You were having a nightmare.” Manon stated, gasping as the movement caused the icy talons to graze her neck.

“So you bit me?” The talons retracted, but Dorian leaned down farther, his forearms on either side of her and their faces inches apart.

“It woke you up, didn’t it?” She was still reeling after the shock of his taste.

“It also hurt.” Dorian pointed out, his breath fanning her face.

“Poor, poor Princeling.”  Manon wrapped her arms around his neck as Dorian tangled his fingers in her unbound hair. She leaned up to whisper in his ear. “Would you like to bite me back?”

She laughed a bit as Dorian shuddered, a groan escaping his lips. The sound was quickly cut short as Dorian lowered his lips to her neck. He ghosted over her skin until he reached where her neck met her shoulder. Manon barely breathed as his teeth grazed her skin. He stayed there for a moment, and just as Manon was about to curse him Dorian bit down.

Manon whimpered and bucked off the bed, so out of character but Gods she loved this. She was panting as Dorian pulled away, her blood glistening on his lips and his pupils blown wide.


But Dorian didn’t get to respond as Manon lunged at him, kissing him with a fervor that had him growling in appreciation.

Dorian lost all control as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

Later, after they were both spent, Manon found herself in Dorian’s arms. Both their wounds had healed, though the scent of blood lingered. Dorian had her tucked under his chin and was playing with her hair. Manon nearly purred at the sensation.

“You’re a cruel, wicked, amazing female.” Dorian murmured into her hair. “I’m not sure what I would do without you.”

“You’d probably have less wounds to explain to your advisors.” Manon murmured, already feeling tired. Dorian huffed a laugh.

“True, but where would the fun be in that?” They were silent for a moment, before Manon broke the silence with a quiet question.

“Did you want to talk about the nightmare?” Manon asked, immediately regretting it as Dorian tensed.

“Right now I want to sleep.” Dorian pulled her closer, tangling their legs together as he held her. “Tomorrow, I’ll tell you all about my demons. If you will share yours.”

“An equal trade?” Dorian hummed his affirmative, and Manon pretended to consider it. “I suppose it’s a deal.”

“Then tomorrow it is.”

“Tomorrow.” Manon affirmed. “Goodnight, Princeling.”

“Goodnight, Witchling.”

i am the girl that they name hurricanes after
because my brain was never wired to be calm.
there is never peace, only
rolling winds and pouring rain,
deafening thunder and flashing lightning.
loving me is like loving a nightmare.
please, stay away from me–i don’t want to hurt you.
wipe the venom from your lips and erase my taste,
and i’ll forget the way your hands traced me,
like i was a map of places you’ve never been.

you can’t stop a disaster,
but you can hide away before the storm hits.

—  lyric poetry #1: shots, imagine dragons; “i can’t have you and i’m only gonna do you wrong” // a.s.
Calm before the Storm

They returned to Kirkwall a few days after the celebration. Even Sebastian went with them, and the journey was better than they expected.

Anders was happy they finally made peace. It was good to have part of the old team back. And maybe they could make Kirkwall a better place now, with Corypheus and his evil influence gone.

Do not fall in love with people like me.
I will take you to
museums, and parks, and monuments,
and kiss you in every beautiful
place, so that you can
never go back to them
without tasting me
like blood in your mouth.
I will destroy you in the most
beautiful way possible.
And when I leave
you will finally understand,
why storms are named after people.

disney princess aesthetics
  • Snow White:the warmth in a loved one's smile, getting flour everywhere when baking, but getting to lick the spoon, curling up on a saggy couch, sticky tree sap, watching cartoons on a gray day, sunlight after a storm, staying up late with your favorite people, birdsong in the morning,
  • Cinderella:the smell of clean clothes, bubble baths, putting your feet up after a long day, dewdrops sparkling in the morning sun, sitting under willow trees, the clicking of heels echoing in a large room, cut gem stones, singing when no one else is around to hear, polished silver, starlight,
  • Aurora:blooming roses, walking barefoot through grass, petrichor, peaceful solitude, carving initials into a tree, twirling in skirts, the trickling of a stream, daydreaming during lessons, juicy berries, gently brushing hands when no one is looking,
  • Ariel:doodling while taking notes, cherry lip gloss, stargazing, running until your lungs want to burst, threading fingers though soft hair, fireworks, placing your hand on water and not breaking the surface, hearing an old favorite song, the taste of salty tears, feeling at home,
  • Belle:intricate wood carvings, illustrations, the crunch of leaves beneath your feet, silk sheets, satin gloves, a pen gliding across a page, sunlight streaming through a window, freshly baked bread, that new book smell,
  • Jasmine:purring cats, fruity drinks, exotic perfumes, scrapping your knees, painting your nails, cooling sweat on the back of your neck, city sounds, basking in the sun, picking up smooth stones, the gleam of moonlight on soft skin,
  • Pocahontas:long walks to nowhere, bleeding watercolors, rolling down grassy hills until your clothes are stained green, deep breaths, the wind blowing through you hair, the smokey taste of burning wood, weaving daisy crowns, roaring rivers, feeling secure in someone's arms, clear skies,
  • Mulan:polished steel, flower petals, cold air nipping at your cheeks, chapped lips, yards of silky fabric, rough hands, cleanly flooded paper creases, sipping hot tea, relaxing strained muscles, being reunited with loved ones after a long time apart
  • Tiana:powdered sugar, comfy shoes, refreshing swims on hot days, blinking city lights, savory home cooked meals, the warmth and familiarity of your own bed, constellations, the lingering scent of a meal after it's been put away, smiling until your face aches, trying new things,
  • Rapunzel:coloring outside the lines, welcoming hugs, fine needlework, getting dirt under your fingernails, sunlight catching specks of dust, mixing globs of paint, pressing wildflowers in a book, sugary icing, carbonated drinks tickling your nose, a familiar lullaby,
  • Merida:wind whipping through your hair, oversized sweaters, sloppy handwriting, red sunsets, bruised elbows, that slightly sunburnt feeling after spending all day outside, mismatched socks, bonfires, the sturdy feeling of an old tree trunk, hidden paths through the forest,
  • Anna:checking every few moments to see if the brownies are done, wool mittens, bubble gum, being excited about seeing a dog, hot cocoa with whipped cream and cinnamon, butterfly kisses, pants with holes in the knees, brightly colored hair, too many pillows, drawing pictures in the fog on a window,
  • Elsa:snowflakes on eyelashes, high heels, fern frost, the smell of hair dye, porcelain, mint toothpaste, sharpened pencils, salads with crisp lettuce leaves icy cold metal, pressing your forehead against a cool windowpane,

My heart is beating so loud, my neighbors can hear it.
They think it’s thunder.
It might as well be, cause this is about to be a fucking storm.
She calls me baby and I believe her.
I’ve never been one for pet names or mushy words,
but I want to be hers.
I know in the morning she’ll take back the soft words she whispered to me at 3 am.
Maybe she’s just lying when she says them, because she enjoys feeling wanted.
I don’t know what it is or why I feel this way,
but I’m actually okay with that.
I’d rather be used by her than loved by someone else.
And honestly, it’d be an honor for her to break my heart.
She told me once that she was one of the reasons why storms are named after people.
It’s said that every storm has a calm before it.
In those few short minutes, everything it quiet.
So if lightening, hurricanes, and cloudy days
are what she compares too,
then let there be rain.

“Do you hate him?”

That was the question she got the most.

“Yes. Maybe,” she replied. She paused, she thought about it for a second. “Not really, no. Not at all.”

“You have the right to hate him, you know?”

Her expression was calm, almost peaceful. Like the loud noise of the ocean after a huge storm. She said: “oh, I know that very well. Maybe if I could it would make it easier on me, but I don’t, I can’t.”

He asked full of curiosity then, “why?”

“You see, when someone makes you so happy, to the point where you see yourself with that person for the rest of your life and no one else, how is it fair to hate him? How can you do that? He brought so much joy to my life, so much more than I could ever expect, and…” She just stopped talking.

He waited for her to continue but she didn’t, so he asked. “And what?”

“I’ve never been one to be ungrateful. You see, you can hurt me, destroy me, leave me, cut me out of your life, but the good things will always stay with me. The good times, what we’ve been through together, that is part of the package that we call life. It’s not fair to just throw that away and try to forget. It’s not about him, it’s about me.”

He understood. He just watched her quietly moving from the couch to the window, she was just staring at the sky.

“You love with everything you have inside you, I see what it means now: it doesn’t leave space for hate, and especially not for him,” he concluded. “You really did love him.”

She kept looking at the sky outside the window in a sunny day on that late summer. After what seemed like hours, she softly said: “I did. I really did.”

I do, she thought.
I really do.

She hoped that wherever he was and whatever he was doing in his life, in that exact moment, that thought reached him and his heart ached for what it seemed no apparent reason to him. She hoped he knew, somehow, somewhere.

—  excerpt from a book I’ll never write #56

This is Sky fight (1909) by Nikolas Roerich (Nikolai Rerich) (1874-1947) who was a painter, writer, traveller, archaeologist and philosopher. Roerich is best known for depicting Russia’s ancient past. During the WW I he was among activist who tried to preserve architecture and different forms of art from damage. For that he earned several nominations for the Nobel Peace Prize. In 1917 he was basically forced to flee Russia after disagreeing with new government’s politics. After spending some time in London and New-York, Roerich and his family move to Asia, travel a lot and finally settle in India.

The picture you see depicts sky. Less than one fifth of the picture is occupied by land’s image. Sky takes up all the place here. We see skies of grey and golden, we see deep and pale blue, sometimes it’s thick and other times it is almost transparent. It looks like the storm is coming or has just gone away. It’s a fight. A fight between the Good and the Evil, a fight between forces we can not see but can feel.

So sit or lie down and practice mindfulness of the breath, using the movement of your abdomen as the object of your attention. I am positive that if you do this exercise for twenty days, ten minutes per day, then you will know how to practice whenever a strong emotion comes up. After ten or twenty minutes, the emotion will go away, and you will be saved from the storm.
—  Thich Nhat Hanh