Don’t Give Up Yet, Ok?

"If you use em dash in your works, it makes them look AI generated. No real human uses em dash."

Imaging thinking actual human writers are Not Real because they use... professional writing in their works.

Imagine thinking millions of people who have been using em dash way before AI becomes a thing are all robots.

REBLOG IF YOU'RE A HUMAN AND YOU USE EM DASH

Sirius clings to his mother and cries twice in his life, no more and no less. It helps that he usually expresses his emotions through anger as opposed to tears but almost spitefully he refuses to let her see any emotion from him. If she wanted a proper perfect statue he would give her one. The first time, he was seven. He hardly remembers it, but she'll never let the memory go, even if it becomes distorted over time.

He was playing the piano, one of the only lessons he took any interest in. She was watching him play, as he had been preparing the piece for a week now. Towards the end, Regulus, who had been sat on the ground outside the room listening in, has a burst of accidental magic. One of the first displays of it, as well as one of his first displays of jealousy. A few of the strings snap inside the instrument, making the keys silent, and before Walburga can realise what is going on, the lid slams shut on his fingers. She rushes over and lifts the lid, taking his hands to check that they are okay. Sirius tries his best not to cry but when he sees Regulus in the doorway and his mum runs her thumb over his fingers to make sure he's okay, he can't help it. The tears fall silently and she only notices when she glances up to ask if he can feel anything. He shuffles closer and she wraps an arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer as he sobs.

As he had gotten older and gone to school, he trusted her with his emotions less, eventually growing to despise her for her high standards and backwards ideologies. He leaves and tells himself that he has no emotional attachment to anybody from the family anymore, especially not her.

But when he discovers Regulus' disappearance through a small article in the paper, he isn't even thinking as he gets on the tube and walks to Grimmauld. He finds himself at his old home, sat on the bottom doorstep asking himself what he was doing. He doesn't knock, and is trying to find the strength to stand up when the door opens. It isn't Kreacher's bitter face he is met with, and his father was always dead so there was no way it would be him. It was Walburga. She stares for a while, then addresses him by his name, with the implication of 'what are you doing here?'. He can't answer. The anger he'd normally have bubbling away is gone and all he can do is try not to break.

Minutes pass in silence before he says anything and she stays exactly where she is, looking down her nose at him. When he eventually does speak, all he says is 'it's true?'. She nods and his chin trembles. She thinks he's angry but he's just exhausted. Stupidly, he moves towards her, not even thinking as he leans his head on her chin and gently grips the fabric at the bottom of her skirt as he starts to sob. It's pathetic but he can't even control what he's doing.

And she can't help it either, she may be furious that he had left and 'destroyed' the family but that's the boy she held close while Orion was bitching on about how quickly she could be recovered enough to make appearances with 'his' heir. And Sirius looked so much like her baby brother Alphie when he was upset. So she sinks to the ground, getting dirt on her expensive dress, and holds her baby to her chest, staring out across the road in silence. She shushes him and runs her fingers through his hair, now almost long enough to reach his elbows. Sirius wouldn't mention it to anybody else when he got back home and he tries not to think about it but for Walburga, it shifts her entire perspective on him in the last few years of her life.

Pink Prison, a comic I did for my color theory class this semester! we had to pick a color, research it, and do a piece related to it somehow. i chose pink :)

🌷 a flower for anyone having a bad day today. i love you

The houses we walk by seem to be creatures, watching us on our stroll through the streets, staring, seeing, following us and our broken relationship.

Their glowing eyes burn on my skin, your hand burns my fingers, I want to run, run, far away, to another version of you and me.

The trees seem to have eyes, watching us on our walk underneath their canopy of leaves, staring, seeing, growing through us and our broken relationship.

Their glittering eyes freeze my bones, your hand freezes my flesh, I want to run, run far away, to another version of you and me.

It hurts, I want to, have to run, to leave, to get away from this freezing warmth, from this burning cold,

but through it all, even if it hurts, I stay with you.

Walking.

What is a pause?

We don't know that. We only know movement.

This is pretty and interesting.

Look at it. Appreciate it.

I will scream at you untill you do.

Give it to me!

Look

See

I want it

Attention!

There ist food you'll eat.

When does it end?

I don't want to see anymore I don't want to hear anymore I don't want to see anymore I don't want to…

Go, we have to

Move

Now, sleep. We won't let you rest. It's loud and scary.

It repeats again. All the same. The same all over

You're about to close on your very own, suspiciously affordable and comfortable house. Just before you sign the contract, the realtor shows you the required legal disclosure: your new house is haunted by the type of presence you'll get from this spinner wheel.

Of course it is.

call me ignorant but i genuinely don’t understand why sports have to be split up by gender.

on colors and being different and not being enough for yourself

(please reblog instead of liking)