flawless flow

Request: Happy imagine based on the song It’s Your Love by Tim McGraw and Faith Hill.

NOTE: to the person that requested this: I hope you like the direction I went with this, please let me know!!

You stared at the reflection in the mirror, looking at the beautiful girl staring back at you.
Your hair was braided elegantly around your head, make up flawless, a flowing white gown around you. Almost everything was perfect but as you stared into the eyes of your reflection you knew exactly what was wrong- what was missing.
Your eyes were sad, empty, almost.
A knock on the door broke your thoughts as you turned, your sister entered the room.
“You ready?”
You nodded and stood, the gown spilling out around you.
“You look so beautiful.” Your sister smiled at you, reaching for your hands.
You squeezed her hands and smiled at her.
“Let’s do this.” You whispered.

Walking down the aisle, all eyes on you, you felt sick with nerves.
You stood at the the front of the church, staring into the dark eyes of the handsome man infront of you as he beamed down at you.
“(Y/n) (y/l/n), do you take this man, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better and for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, til death do you part.”
A tear rolled down your cheek as you heard the words, the man before you squeezing your hands gently.
You looked into his dark eyes, as tears fell.
“I..I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”
You dropped his hands and gathered the gown in your hands, gasps echoing around you as you turned and ran down, the steps.
You met your mothers eyes as you ran and she smiled warmly at you, nodding understandingly.
You ran out of the doors, into the sunlight.

“Where to?” The cab driver asked you, a sad smile on his face.
“Teller-Morrow Automotive.” You told him.
You gazed out the window as you drove away from the church, away from a man that loved you dearly. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you played with your hands.
You hoped he was there, it’s been years since you’d seen him, years since he’d left you crying on your doorstep, pushing you away to protect you. But you’d never stopped loving him, you never would. There was something about him, something about the way he looked into your eyes like he was searching your soul. Something about his voice, you’d dreamed about that voice every night, dreamed about him holding you in his strong arms. There was something about the way he said your name, like it was a secret meant only for the both of you. Something about the way he laughed and ruffled your hair.
You ached for him, for his touch. God, you missed him. You hoped you weren’t too late, hoped he hadn’t moved on.
The cab pulled into the lot and you gave the driver the money, stepping out.
You took a deep breath and smoothed down your dress as you walked towards the clubhouse, thankful there was no one outside.
You threw the doors open and walked inside, scanning the room nervously.
All heads turned towards the girl in the wedding dress, mascara stains running down her face.
Happy stood, his mouth open as he walked towards her.
“What are you doing here, girl?” He asked you lowly.
You looked down at your feet, hands trembling as tears rolled down your cheeks.
“It’s you, Happy. It’s always been you.”
He grabbed your hands, squeezing them as you looked up at him.
“I’ve been racking my mind these last few months, trying to figure out what’s missing. My life was perfect, Happy. I had everything a girl could want. But it didn’t feel right, a piece of me is missing. I tried, Hap, I tried to be happy with him, without you, but I can’t. I couldn’t marry him, I couldn’t lie to him, to myself any longer. Somethings missing and I know what it is now. It’s your love, Happy. I love you.”
Happy cupped your face in his hands, staring into your eyes as he lent in and pressed his lips to yours.
“I love you too. I’ll never let you go again, your mine now.”

In Order to Break the “Dorian - Fashion Adviser to the Inquisitor” trend...

I’m REEEAAAALLLLYYYY tempted to write a fanfiction where unlikely characters decide to give the Inquisitor fashion advice

Solas would be all about thrift and frugality:

- You know, we could really use the funds that you spend on rare minerals for something more… necessary.  Why did we spend 100000000000000 Sovereigns on Fade Touched Nug again?

- I really don’t think we ALL have to have matching armor.  

- The ancient elves often used whatever was available: furs, pelts, simple iron. It was a much more practical time. 

- *Shows up in reallly incredibly fancy armor in Trespasser* … I lied.

Varric would have but one thing on his mind:

- I think what the Inquisitor needs is a plunging neckline. Just saying.

Blackwall would make vague references to the Wardens, beard everything, and require a neutral color palette:

- We Grey Wardens put Griffons on everything.

- I think you would be much more defensible if you had a beard. No arrows to the neck. (Female Inquisitor just rolls her eyes)

- No dawnstone. Pink is weakness. Pink is death. There is no glory in pink.

Sera would demand an excessive amount of plaidweave:

- A’right, but wut if instead of that ugly silk shite yer wearin’ you make it yellow! Yellow’s exciting! Nobody expects yellow.

- So, I have way too many breeches.

- No underwear Wednesdays!

Cassandra would literally like nothing the Inquisitor chooses because it is not armor-y enough:

- You’re just going to wear that leather coat? How will that protect you from a Qunari Battle-Axe? *Disgusted noise*

- Inquisitor, I really do not think that those gloves are going to keep you from losing an arm. Perhaps gauntlents?

- Ugh. No hats. NO HATS.

Cole would be all about comfort but also confused about how clothing works:

- Free, flowing, flawless. Running uncovered by heavy cloth. Inquisitor, why do you force yourself to wear clothing? You’d be much happier without it.


And then there’s the Bull: 

- You want MY advice, Boss? Wear whatever the hell you want because you’re a FUCKING beast. *fist bump*

- But also… Dawnstone is really pretty.


He was my North, my South, my East and West,

My working week and my Sunday rest

My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;

I thought that love would last forever, I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,

Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun.

Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;

For nothing now can ever come to any good.

Funeral Blues - W. H. Auden 

thegrimzuera  asked:

THE. CHARACTER. BIOS. ARE. SO. BEAUTIFUL! They're so aesthetically pleasing, and honestly the entire blog is just lovely. It always makes me giggle out loud when I see that Rose's major is anesthesiology. The majors are all so clever. Really, the new theme is flawless, and it flows so well with the new bios. I love the new additions to the blog, and it's so exciting to see all your hard work come to fruition!


But seriously, thank you so, so much! It always bothered me that I updated the theme but didn’t update the bios awhile back so I was determined to update them this time around. So glad you think it flows well now because that was just what I was hoping for! 

And Rose’s major is so hilarious. So glad you like all the majors - tried to keep them as in character but fun as possible. 

Again, thank you!!! *hugs*

Hey guys! Sorry for the long wait. Here, hope this list helps :) 

  • The Hotel Regulars - downright creepy. the imagery in this fic is superb you can actually shiver from the chills.
  • Jag-eun - nurse chanyeol falling in love with his psycho patient baekhyun. hello shutter island???
  • The Smile in the Mirror - eveything seems to be light in the beginning but WAIT FOR IT. WAIT FOR IT.
  • Hole in your Face - this is all so twisted and gore and wow i love it
  • The Painter Of Bones - great imagery as well, lots of great elements, flawless flow. 
  • The Switch Effect - more than dark this is really sad. 

anyone who can help baek6104 on her second question? “yeol killed baek then he piggyback b but their kid ask why chan piggybacking baek.” Thanks!

- Admin Rose :> 

Anonymous asked:

hi! I hope maybe you can help here - my writing is really boring. for an example the flow is like “she picked up the mascara tube to apply some to her eyelashes, clumping it on swiftly and carelessly, and twisted the tube closed and tossed it back down.” it’s all boring like that, and then I read these works where it’s flawless and it flows so well, and the part I don’t get but I LOVE, is when it’s all a little vague? and the words are more like poetry than a story, I don’t get how to do that ? 

Good writing takes practice and patience. It’s not something you can change overnight. Here are some posts that will help:

Frustrated with Writing Quality
Getting Better at Writing
How to Perfect Your Writing
How to Make Simple Writing More Vivid
Writing Concise Sentences
Ways to Tighten Up Your Writing

Have a writing question? I’d love to hear from you! Please be sure to read my ask rules and master list first or your question will not be answered. :)

the 𝓢himadas and music, an intro

to be honest though, besides being trained to become ruthless ninja assassins ━the ideal of preserving tradition was a very strong sentiment in the clan, and it was made sure that both brothers ( as they were heirs to the clan ) not only could impeccably perform tea ceremonies and engage in ‘proper conversations’ in order to entertain guests and being considered proper hosts, but also trained with the use of traditional instruments such as koto and shamisen.

but many know how music works: you can be jack of all trades and learn the technique to perfection because of great manual skills ━but without a heart and a passion, even the most perfect technique would result empty, nothing but a sequence of notes without any meaning. one would be praised for such a crystalline technique and flawless flow, and the other would only be scolded to be just like the other, to be more poised, more clean, to stop sticking his tongue out when focusing ━complaints, complaints, always nothing but complaints.

it didn’t matter to him, though. even if not as perfect as the other’s, what his music had was all the heart a person could pour in a song, all his feelings mixing in a tumultuous tune.
let the older have the empty praise ━the sparrow-dragon gives no shit about those.

Keep reading

Hi love! Sure thing. Sorry for the late response, I didn’t have that many Jercy fics (please please please tell me i got the pairing right omg i’m not very good with pairing names but I’m assuming Jercy is Jason Grace/Percy Jackson?) ready to go so I combed through A03 and FF.net and some tumblr tags. Here’s a bunch that I liked, with a few bonus!Percy/Jason/Nico fics at the end because I wasn’t sure if you were into that and they were cute? :D Oh, and there a couple of Jercy blogs at the bottom too that post really lovely ficlets just in case my rec list didnt give you any new ones/ones that you like. Happy reading love, and I do hope you find at least one new fic that you like? All fics are below the cut.

Keep reading

The Stylist (Harry Styles) Part 2

You couldn’t help but glance at Harry and Abigail every now and then while you pumped soap into your sticky hands. It wasn’t fair, she was practically flawless. Perfect body, long flowing brown locks, and bright blue eyes to compliment her skin tone.

“Y/N, you’ve been doing that for a while.” Liam coughed, referring to the massive pile of soap that rested on your palm. 

“What? Oh, my bad.” You muttered, scrubbing it over your hands and rinsing it off. 

“Is something the matter?” He asked, watching you wipe your hands on your coffee-stained skinny jeans. You sighed as Harry laughed at something Abigail had said, his cheeks turning a little pink. 

“Um, no. Nothing’s wrong.” You smiled softly. 

“Really? Because you look like you’re about to cry.” Liam pointed out. 

“I don’t cry, Liam.” You scoffed. You grew up with possibly the kindest mother and father, but they always told you that crying was a form of weakness. Whenever you’d start crying, they would comfort you and then remind you with those four words. 

“Crying makes you weak.”

“Guys, I’m having a barbecue tonight. Everyone’s invited!” Abigail cheered, tying her hair up in a bun. “It’s more like a pool-party/barbecue type thing. I also have a super huge trampoline in my backyard.” 

“How did you manage to afford that?” Louis asked. 

“Harry bought it for my birthday.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Harry had forgotten your birthday. All of the boys had reminded him according to Lou, but he still forgot. While you were blowing out the candles on the gorgeous cake the boys had bought for you, Harry stood in the corner playing Temple Run. He didn’t even say Happy Birthday.

He’ll remember this year. Hopefully. My birthday’s in a week, I’m sure he’ll remember. 

“Oh, that’s great.” Zayn nodded, looking at you. “Speaking of birthday’s, Y/N’s one is coming up next week, I think. She’s turning nineteen. Maybe you should get her a trampoline too.” Zayn said to Harry, raising an eyebrow. Zayn was probably the only one who knew that Harry despised you.

“Erm, maybe something smaller.” Harry muttered.


“I’m not going.” You sighed, flipping through your planner. 

“Y/N, c’mon.” Zayn rolled his eyes. “It’s a barbecue pool trampoline party. How does that not sound fun?”

“Because I can’t concentrate with Harry giving me death glares 24/7.” 

“Just avoid him, alright?”

“Fine, but I’m not getting in the pool.” You grumbled, grabbing your planner and your phone.

“Deal.” Zayn smiled, watching you pick out your clothes.

“I love this song!” Niall laughed, already drunk. The speakers were playing Midnight Memories, and you felt like your eardrums were going to explode due to the loud volume. 

“Jesus Christ.” You groaned softly, scribbling your weekend plans out because you had to arrange new outfits for the boys. You looked up for a second and saw Harry tickling Abigail while they wrestled on the trampoline. You fiddled with the end of your thin sweater while writing something down. 

“Want a drink, love?” Louis walked over, a red cup in hand. 

“I don’t trust you.” You laughed, as Louis set the cup down on the table. 

“It’s apple juice, because you’re a little wuss and you won’t touch alcohol. And also because you’re actually a six year old child.” Louis teased, pinching your cheeks. You swatted his hands away and took a sip of the apple juice, smiling at him. 

“This six year old is turning seven next week, excuse you.” You reminded him. 

“Oh, I know. Anyway, I’m going to hop into the hot tub. Why aren’t you swimming?” 

“It’s freezing out, I don’t know how you people can swim. And plus I can’t exactly swim.” You muttered. You could swim before, it’s just that you stopped swimming when you were eleven. You just lost interest and that resulted in you not being able to swim. 

“I knew you were a six year old child.” Louis cooed, giving you a sloppy kiss on the cheek. “I’ll teach you how one day. Enjoy your apple juice.” 

“Thank you.” You smiled, taking another sip of the cold juice.

“Y/N, Y/N!” You heard Harry’s voice and you immediately looked up, closing your planner. There might have been some ‘I <3 Harry’ doodles in there. You watched a shirtless, wet Harry run over, his curls flopping around.

“H-Hi.” You stuttered. “Hey.” You cleared your throat, standing up quickly.

“So like, there’s something in the pool that I have to show you. I swear to god there’s like a frog in there or something.” He panted. 

“What? How did a frog get in the pool?” You followed him towards the deepest end of the pool. Louis had told you how it was so deep, you couldn’t feel the ground even if you tried. He tried and nearly suffocated. 

“It’s there, do you see it?” Harry placed a hand on your lower back, your stomach beginning to do backflips. 

“Harry, this is the deepest part of the pool, how am I supposed to see a tiny frog?”  You asked, squinting your eyes and trying to see the frog.

“I don’t know, maybe like this!” The next thing you knew, you were pushed into the water, you heard everyone laughing before you fell in. Louis was absolutely right. You couldn’t feel the bottom. You began kicking your arms and legs, attempting to swim up, but you felt yourself sinking lower and lower. You were almost out of breath, you couldn’t see anything, and you couldn’t hear anything. With one final breath, everything went dark. 


So, a few days ago I reached my big, dreamy goal of 1,000 followers and I couldn’t be happier! But what does that mean for you? Yes, an annoying follow forever post! 

Not just that though, I’m planning on posting way more stuff (way more goalies) and I want my blog to lowkey turn into a special one, which keeping best success is based on interesting facts about players (like the 3 posts). Please tell me if you like the idea or not. 

Anyway, I have never done a follow forever, so I’m going to do something like that, more specifically mention my favorite blogs (people I consider my friends) and other mutuals :)

  • @habbygleek I still love you the most though we’re currently having a war
  • @megsforbreakfast (is it time for my trip to Venice yet?)
  • @blackwoodmackenzie (the AHL players deserve more love)
  • @johnnyhckey (JVR’s green mouthguard slut squad)
  • @capmcdavo I’m never gonna forget how we talked about Chychrun’s cheekbones till 2am
  • @benbitchops I’m still listening to Sweet Dreams when I think how hockey players have killed me
  • @savesavepeksibae we don’t talk much now, but don’t worry, I still remember some Finnish words and our Snapchat maratons
  • @crazymarner (there are a lot of gems in our chat but I still use the quote “I don’t know Panarin much, Russians are complicated”)

So I believe there are listed all my other not-sideblog mutuals down here. Why I’m tagging them? Because if you’re my mutual, I automatically consider you my fella :))

@1800-hotline-kling @42bozaks @auston-memethews @austonxmatthews @barca-penguins @book23worm @captain-brownie-for-the-win @captain-problematic @carey-pricemas @carey-price-stuck @catlady31 @crocby @crown-city-or-die @cuddlyauston @cupcake-toffoli @denisgodlas @dyllarkin @everythinghockey @explore-a-little @gingerbrownie @hockeyhockeyhockeyhockeyhockey @hockeynutruthie @holyholtby @howdy-doughty @jakegards-flow @jeff-flawless-carter @juicysaros @lalizzie88 @latta17 @lattsdoughty @martini-jones @martnjones @milan-lucic @mitch-marner @myfairestkings @nhl-capitals @nonstopburky @panic-at-the-goalline @pucksbeforefucks @seanahan @thebleedingman @the-sun-is-up-the-sky-is-blue @tyler-toffoli73 @wennbergbabe @yo-gabba-gaborik


lesbianxloverxgirl  asked:

So since Frisk is a boy in your story why did they want to grow there hair longer (I mean there's nothing wrong with boys wanting there hair longer) I just wondered

Frisk is not a boy. Frisk is agender, meaning that they do not identify as any gender at all. In fact, Frisk feels like the idea that some things are for one gender while other things are for another is dumb. Frisk likes the idea of having long flawless dark hair that flows in the wind while the music swells and the camera pans around you and you sing about the colors of the wind. Why should that be limited to girls? Everyone should be able to have unrealistic hair expectations regardless of gender.

I saw someone complaining about all the “glamour Shepards” who look like models and all I can do it bite my thumb at them. Because if people want their Shepard’s to look hunky or gorgeous, then why shouldn’t they? Why do people need to sneer and mock them for it? 

Why can’t Shepard be muscular or slender or curvy? Have scars or freckles or flawless skin? Have long flowing locks a buzzcut or an asymmetrical style cut ? Have a face full of makeup or tattoos or nothing at all? Why can’t they all be Shepard and all be accepted?