loves you, loves me not

rise up to the stars like a diamond in the sky

[pigeontheoneandonly]

Do you have a secret method for being able to write so much/often? I'm a little jealous XD

I’ve debated how to answer this over the last few days.  I know it’s being asked tongue-in-cheek, but it’s something I struggle with continually, so I wanted to give a bit of a more serious answer.

I wish I could offer a killer secret strategy, some kind of perfect formula, that unleashes our creativity and unlocks our motivation to write.  But the truth is nothing like that. So here are the things I have learned in many years of practicing this particular art:

1.  It gets easier. The more you do it, the easier words come.  It’s better to lure the muse in with your work than wait for her to decide to show up.

2.  But every day, the battle starts again.  I can write every evening for a month straight and it’s no guarantee that I’ll be able to make myself write tomorrow.  

3.  See also: habit is a lie.  I am psychologically incapable of habit.  All there is a fresh start, every time.

4.  You will fail in this goal a thousand times.  And you will have to pick yourself up and try again a thousand times. Then you’ll fail once more.  If you can’t find a way to stop guilting and shaming yourself for it, you’ll waste 90% of your energy fighting the negativity you’ve associated with sitting down to write, and you need that energy to motivate and encourage yourself, because…

5.  There will always be ten million reasons not to do it.  Choosing to write anyway is a decision you have to make more than once.

6.  Falling in love with the sound of your own writing helps.  A lot.  Nobody can love your babies like you.

7.  But being read by other people is an out-of-this-world high, and it’s ok to let that power you, as long as you don’t let it own you.

8.  Practical advice: It’s easier to write today if I wrote yesterday.  And it’s easier to write today if I wrote two days ago than if I last wrote a week ago.  When the not-writing gets to be around a month, it’s very hard and requires a proper plan to ease back in.

9.  Writing doesn’t have to be writing writing.  Just touching the document, editing, outlining, taking some kind of tangible action to advance the work, can reset that timer and get you to another day. Likewise you don’t need to write two thousand words; even ten can work just fine.

10. Sometimes the writing has to come before the laundry.  If you don’t make the things that feed your soul at least an occasional priority over the things that take care of the rest of you, they start to shrivel up.

Lastly: If writing is something you need to do with your life, you know it.  And if it is, it’s worth it.

[happyheidi]

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。 October will bring blessings.

　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

[ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm]

harry and draco would always pull each other out of the veil. Inspired by A Little Death Never Hurt Anyone by @tackytigerfic

dear tacky and @the-starryknight, happy birthday(s)! this piece is a gift from me and @sweet-s0rr0w 💗 this is one of my favorite stories ever, and since it was written as a gift for starry, i thought making something for it would be a good co-birthday gift.

[owl-of-fandom]

written for @drarrymicrofic‘s 12 july prompt: sugar high

Draco loves sweet things. He always has. Everyone knows that.

So naturally Harry doesn’t bring him flowers. He brings him chocolates and truffles and candied fruit. He doesn’t take Draco out to dinner. He takes him to a sweet little café that serves the best pastries and sweet coffees that might not even have actual coffee in them.

When Harry kisses Draco for the first time his lips taste sugary sweet. Harry can’t help but wonder if it’s a sugar high or just Draco himself that make him dizzy.

[rockingrobin69]

Pack

1.4k (gasp) for dear anon, AU full of - family, friends to lovers, and of course pining

It was cute when they were in school, the whole rivalry thing. Draco’s “I got an E in potions” versus Harry’s “my mum sends the best parcels”, Draco’s “Padfoot let me ride his bike” to Harry’s “I’m still faster on a broom”. It was fine. Fun, even, rolling around the Gryffindor common room, teasing and screaming and laughing, endless nights of sneaking around and annoying the shit out of everyone.

(Draco told him once, hiding underneath a desk in an abandoned classroom, waiting for Filch to leave the library. How his Father always said he’s meant to be in Slytherin. Father, with that look in his eyes, detesting and sneering and a little hungry. But then he got Moony and Padfoot, and can you imagine the look on Pads’s face if he got sorted there? Mental. Besides, who would want to anyway. It was better to be here with Harry, making sure his stupidity didn’t get him killed.)

It was still a little cute after graduation, when Harry came to stay with them for three months. Draco’s “I know the best restaurants” to Harry’s “I made your favourite pasta”, Harry’s “early registration” to Draco’s “already have a job”. Moony and Padfoot let them do whatever, almost, treated them like adults, in a way Harry’s parents never really would. Although Sirius got so angry one morning, when Draco came back from a night shift he wasn’t meant to do. He hasn’t told anyone about it, and Pads was worried about him, wanker. Draco had tears in his eyes when he shouted back, about back off and shut up and this isn’t even, a lot of “you don’t understand”s that Remus actually laughed at.

(Harry never had shouting matches like that with his parents. His mum would usually storm off to cool down, and his dad never raised his voice. But Draco and Padfoot made up before breakfast was finished, frowning around their toast and glaring at Moony, who was still laughing, and it was okay. Then at the end of summer when Draco handed them the envelope with all the money he’s saved—“I just wanted—to give you something back—” Harry was glad he’d be leaving soon, because it was terrifying, watching Remus and Sirius cry so fucking much).

It was less fun during Uni, because Draco never went, and Harry had no one to compete with. Draco got a better job than his crappy summer one, and Moony got him his own bike, which was really unfair. Harry’s shitty old car used to be his gran’s and it didn’t go thirteen miles without falling apart. Whatever. They met every break, sometimes during the semester too. Often as they could travel. But it wasn’t the same, because their lives were so different now. “Submitted my essay on the very last minute” didn’t really compare with “getting an actual office here!”. And Draco looked so grown up in his black jacket and that annoying new eyeliner-habit, so good and—far away, and it hurt, a bit. To not be a part of it all. Of his life.

(He went to see Father, he said, a rare three AM phone call the night before Harry’s organic chem exam. In prison. He went to visit him, mostly because—well, he didn’t really know why. And it was awful. Which Harry was a little happy about, because he always hated the man, and it was easier, he imagined, not to be so torn up. But Draco sounded so sad. Heart-breakingly so. There were lots  of pauses on the phone, like Draco was smoking fifteen cigarettes one after the other. “Anyway,” he said in the end, sighed again. “Don’t tell Pads or Moony. They’ll break that man’s face, and I can’t have my real dads in prison, right?”)

It got infinitely better when Harry moved to the city in work placement. Draco got his own flat—a horrible, dingy little place he was endlessly proud of, and Sirius and Remus came by every weekend. Harry loved it and hated it and decided he was moving in too, to which Draco laughed and said, I already have a room for you. Supposing he won that round.

(it was messy, and gross, and wonderful. They found the best-worst pubs in the neighbourhood and became friends with the old queer couple the floor above. A lot of things became—clearer, and more confusing, and his mum almost got a stroke when she came to visit the first time, and dad and Sirius warded the entire place like it was a national security issue. It was amazing, and Harry was a little bit in love. Oops.)

It got worse again, because being in love (oops) meant Harry lost every single argument, seeing as he couldn’t think straight anymore. He forgot to tell Draco about his big findings because the bastard wore the tightest trousers. Draco’s ‘hilarious’ stories about his ‘hilarious’ ‘’handsome’’ (!) colleague made Harry green with nausea, which meant he couldn’t form any good rebuttals with his co-researchers. It was a disaster, and Harry hated losing, and losing to Draco all the more—then Draco got that promotion offer in Italy, and—it was getting worse and worse by the minute, because he was actually thinking of going—

Keep reading

[ladderofyears]

“Those rude arses have no right to call you pint-sized, not when they owe you everything!” Draco snapped, throwing his copy of the Prophet on the floor in a blaze of temper.

Standing on his toes, Harry gave his boyfriend a kiss. He didn’t give a stuff about his height – or lack of it – but a protective, caring Draco was delectably sexy.

Prompt: standing on tiptoes.

[metamorphesque]

Portrait of Fryderyk in Shifting Light, Richard Siken

[text ID: What can you know about a person? They shift in the light. / You can’t light up all sides at once. / Add a second light and you get a second darkness, it’s only fair.]

[trueshredguitar]

i love that post thats like “never trust how you feel about your life after 9pm” that shit changed my life. every time i feel bad i look at the clock and i’m like Aha It’s 10:26 PM You Cannot Fucking Fool Me

[trueshredguitar]

wow this post bload up. i think it’s a good time for me to clarify some things since i really did just write this post at 10:26 pm on a whim

There’s about ten thousand people tagging this with “but what if i feel bad in the mornings” or “welp i feel like shit in the afternoon” and I think you’re willfully misinterpreting this post for many reasons.

First off, this post is about knowing when to let yourself rest. Anxieties are stronger at the time when you meditate on your day and the events of your world slow down. (A lot of people have different sleep schedules, too, so “9 PM” can mean whenever your day is over and before you go to sleep.)

I don’t ignore these anxieties, I do take them in but just remind myself that I am resting now. It’s a mindfulness technique. I look at the clock to ground myself about where and when I am and what physical state I’m in as it relates to my mental state. It’s a reminder to myself that I feel these emotions and they do not control my actions. I do not need to do anything about them. Right now, I am at rest. You can’t fool me into taking action on things when I am at rest. I see a lot of funny tags on this saying “mental business hours are from 9 AM to 8:59 PM” and I LOVE that.

Secondly, this advice is geared towards the idea that your mental state is for the most part dependent on your physical state. In this specific case, I felt bad because the day was ending and my mind and body were tired. I was ready for bed. My body needed sleep and my mind deprived of it started acting up. But your body doesn’t need only sleep. Your mental state can depend on whether or not you’ve eaten something substantial, drank water, taken your medicine, gone to the bathroom, exercised, showered or bathed, brushed your teeth, breathed fresh air… and to go on: had an orgasm, changed into clean clothes recently, been properly cool or warm, or given someone a hug. These things are not linked to a time of day, these are round-the-clock concerns. If you feel bad and haven’t done many of these things recently, I really recommend you take your negative feelings with a grain of salt and see how you feel after you’ve improved your physical state.

Thirdly, this post is also predicated on the idea that you should worry about things when you can control them. For me, 9 PM is when everything shuts down. My energy is pretty sapped, as is my friends’ energy, stores are mostly closed, nobody answers phones, most of my immediate world is done for the night. I can’t start anything at 9 PM. Right now, I’m worried about getting a job. I feel bad at all times of day that I don’t have a job yet. But I can’t be worried about applying for jobs at 10:26 PM, I’m tired and no hiring managers are going to see my applications before 9 AM tomorrow. I can’t improve my life while lying in bed, and I need to lie in bed, so I’m going to improve my life when my day starts. I deserve rest, I need sleep, and I observe but neatly package and set aside the worry to be dealt with at 9 AM tomorrow.

It seems like platitudinous boomer-level “must be nice to be neurotypical” COMPLETE BULLSHIT to a lot of you, I know. But here’s my secret: you don’t need to believe it. You just need to tell yourself that’s how it is. With practice — and I say practice because this kind of thinking took me years (and growing out of being a teenager) to cultivate — it stops being platitudinous.

And if you’re sitting here thinking I’m lying or that I’m not REALLY mentally ill, I’d like to remind you that A) you know nothing about me and my life B) assuming I don’t know what I’m talking about is both silly and incredibly cruel and C) that’s your own self-sabotage talking. “Oh, she feels better by doing this. Well, she must not be As Bad As Me. Therefore this will not work on me.” That is the Devil speaking, the one who tells you not to brush your teeth at night and to text your ex. That is the demon in your head that likes watching you hurt. You don’t want to hurt. Even if you do want to hurt, I promise, you do not want to hurt.

It’s true that this will not work for many, many people. Not everyone’s brains work the same. We are all unique people with unique situations and for me to even pretend otherwise would be preposterous. And I’m not going to pretend that every worry you have is unfounded and can be solved with a nap and a sandwich. That’s not what this post is about. You’re allowed to feel bad. It’s an emotion. It happens. But it’s healthy for you to ask yourself why you’re feeling a negative emotion, if it is possible to fix why you are feeling that way, what you can do to fix it, and whether or not right now is the time to fix it.

When it’s 10:26 PM and I’m angry at myself about losing an online chess game and being unemployed, I look at the clock and say… this negative emotion is real but the reasoning behind it is not something I can fix right now. I can’t fix my life right now. I need to go to bed, and my brain can’t Fucking Fool Me.

I’m giving you this advice because I want you to SEE if it helps. Even if you try it and this mindset is not what is right for you… I’m proud of you and impressed of you for trying it, because trying to get better is the first step to getting better.

(And thanks to people who reminded me that Drew Monson is the one responsible for the original post about not trusting how you feel about your life after 9 PM. Thank you Drew for helping me out of some late-night pits.)

[queerplatonicpositivity]

[ Image Description: Flow chart. Starts with “Do you have a problem?” The “No” path points to “Then don’t worry.” The “Yes” path points to “Can you do something about it?” From there, both the “Yes” and the “No” paths point back to “Then don’t worry.” Description Ends ]

[fellshish]

Maybe if he was a little less fuckable we wouldn’t be in this mess

[constitutionalweasleymonarchy]

If AO3 had a slogan

[skeptiquewrites]

Microfic: Trust Me

for @drarrymicrofic prompt 'trust me'. cw: intentional memory loss.

Potter,

If you're reading this, I've left, likely without saying goodbye. I am sorry, even though you won't believe me.

To you, I entrust my memories of the last two years. When we meet again, it will be as near strangers. It will keep you safer than anything else I could come up with. This way, no one can use what I know against you. Promise kept. Nothing else would have been certain to work.

I need you. Everyone else needs you more. We will meet again soon. You have all my faith and all my love.

Take care, DM

[sitp-recs]

[ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm]

we have a stupid schoolyard rhyme here that roughly translates to like, those who fight are really lovers

[chaoticgouda]

all energy healing is a scam except for when a kitty lays on your chest and purrs and purrs and sends restorative rays of magic into your bones and nerves. fellas that one’s real.

[metamorphesque]

― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

[text ID: And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter— they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long.]

[gaypiratebrainrot]

learning how to hunt for the good fic on ao3 definitely has a learning curve but with time and effort and practice you too can develop a keen sense for how good a fic will be based on how unhinged the tags are

[gender-luster]

listen, i know they're evil. i know they're a villain. i know they're completely unhinged and off the rails. i know they're a little bit of a bastard, and i know that they're a sneaky, tricky bitch. and you know what? i love them for it

[sitp-recs]

I guess it’s official, I’m making reclists again 😂 although at a much slower, gentler pace trying not to overwhelm myself again. Thank you for your patience! I can’t include more links on the old masterlist since it reached 100 links (😱) so I am belatedly creating another one with all the recent lists. I will probably add categories as we go, too lazy to do it at this point. Enjoy!

Draco/Harry & Ron brOTP

Draco & Hermione brOTP

George Weasley appreciation

Fun & Sweet

Long & Plotty

Fics over 100k

SFW reads (G and T-rated)

World building

Dialogue-heavy fics

Summery reads

Epistolary

Multiverse

Fast sexual burn + slow emotional burn

Magically powerful Draco

Morally grey Draco + law enforcement Harry

Birthdays

Smoking weed

Post-war + found family

Imperfect Drarry

Drarry falling in love

Drarry in love

Cooking as a love language

First kiss (shorts)

Pining Harry

Competent Harry

Protective Draco

Draco after Azkaban 

Hot Draco 

Successful Draco in the Muggle world

Draco has bad luck

Draco has panic attacks

[phoebe-delia]

Sticky Note

For the @drarrymicrofic prompt: sticky.

Draco smiled, unstuck it from the wrapped sandwich, and tacked it up on his bulletin board.

[Image description: a picture of a pink sticky note tacked onto a corkboard. Typed onto the sticky note in black font are the words 'I love you. -H'. End image description.]