four temperments

Four temperments=Four houses?

hey guys I was jsut reading the wiki artile on the four temperment theory, when it jsut struck me- the four tmeperments correspond almost eprfectly to the four hogwarts houses!!

Sanguine=GRYFFINDOR

choleric=SLYTERIN

melancholic-RAVENCLAW

Phlegmatic=HUFFLEPUFF

~

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A short SwanQueen/SwanMillsFamily oneshot. Their four year old daughters stumbles across Henry’s storybook where she sees a picture of the Evil Queen causing her to push Regina away and leaving Emma to pick up the pieces. Fluff. I don’t own Once or any of its characters. Apologies for any mistakes. Hope you enjoy :)

Emma frowns as she walks through her front door to hear screaming. Admittedly, it’s not an odd noise in their house. Between the four year old, the teenager and their newly acquired dog (just one at the moment but knowing Regina the next time she visits the animal shelter, there’ll be more), the mansion is normally filled with noise.

It’s that noise that Emma loves. Silence reminds her of loneliness and rootlessness. Noise, even if it is shouting and sometimes too loud, is the marker of family. When she walks in to hear a chorus of hello’s or to a house filled with laughter, it’s a reminder that she is loved and a part of something truly remarkable to her – a family.

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Tale As Old As Time Chapter 3: Be Our Guest

Originally posted by badass-but-sensitive

Originally posted by toyboxboy

Contains:fluff-ish?, angst.

-

Except for the sunlight peeking through the small window by the ceiling, the dungeon was dark. Spencer sat in the corner of the cold, brick room, the only sound being a mysterious dripping sound that all dungeons had. It echoed throughout the mostly uninhabited jail, driving the poor man into madness. He couldn’t stop thinking about his mother, if she was safe and sound at home, his heart ached at the thought of her worrying for his sake. All this trouble for a rose. A rose /he/ asked for. This was all his fault anyway. He should have gone with her, but she was so stubborn.

Spencer started to tear up yet once again, gasping when the doors bolted open. He expect to see the beast that had put him here but it seemed as if no one was there until a rough, kind voice broke the unnerving dripping. “Sorry to disturb you Monsieur, but surely you don’t want to stay here in this cave.” Spencer stood up defensively, looking out the door to find no one. “Down here!” The voice spoke yet again.

Spencer locked his rich brown eyes with a matching metallic pair. A candelabra with realistic human features stared up at him, a smile growing as he waved his lit arm to greet the bewildered man. “Bonjour!” Spencer noticed the object speak and his eyes grew to be the size of saucers, his flight or flight response kicking in to grab a small stool and bash the candle over the head.

“Oomph! You’re very strong Monsieur! That’s good to know…” The candlestick stood up, moving broken pieces of the stool out of the way so he could bow politely. “I am Derek Morgan, your lumiere, your light.”

“And the most foolish person I know!” A rougher voice came from the nearby stairs. Spencer turned to see if it was an actual human this time but was met with the sight of a clock climbing up the last step, panting. His design didn’t allow him to move as freely as Derek could. “What exactly are you doing releasing the prisoner!
If the Mistress knew what you were doing she’s throw a fit!”

“Ah Aaron, don’t be rude to our guest…” Derek made a gesture to Spencer who had been watching the bickerish interaction with intrest and shock. His brows raised when he realized he was being adressed, back straightening. “I’m Spencer…”

“Ah! Spencer, this is Aaron Hotchner.” Derek introduced, the Aaron’s face remaining stoic. “We are to lead you to your room!” He smiled, the candle’s feet clicking against the floor, Aaron wobbling side to side as he tried to chase after his friend. Spencer remained by the door, still wondering what he heck was happening. “Well, come on! You’re welcome to stay in there I guess but..I’m certain you don’t want to.” Derek called back, and Spencer sighed. It couldn’t get any worse right?

“H-how are you guys talking?” He asked, stepping behind the moving objects which should have been inanimate. “And why am I, a prisoner, being given a room?”

“Mistress didn’t say it, but if you are to stay here then she’d eventually give you a more comfortable room.”

“So…I can go anywhere?” He asked, eyebrows furrowing. He followed the pair down the endless amounts of halls and staircases. Chances are he would get lost before he even figured out where to go.

“Except the West Wing.” Derek answered, stopping when Aaron gave him a look. “B-because we don’t have one.” He tried recovering, blowing out one of his candles to move Spencer’s face from looking at the West side of the caste through the windows.

“What’s in the West Wing?” He asked, voice muffled by Derek’s arms pushing into his cheek.

“Nothing.” Aaron answered, leading the way even though he claimed he wasn’t part of the plan.

“Nothing.” Derek repeated.

“Storage space.”

“Yes, exactly, storage space. Now, let’s continue our journey on to the East Wing, or as I like to call it, the only wing.” They approached a hall with numerous rooms, leading him to the first door.

Upon entering, Spencer couldn’t help but marvel at how beautiful the room seemed. Derek flopped on to the bed, an explosion of dust flying through the room. “We haven’t been expecting guests in quite a long time.” He explained, eyes widening as a feather duster entered the room.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of this in no time.” The plumeau offered, making her way around the room. “Ah!’ she flew to the bed, being enveloped by Derek’s candelabra arms. "This plan is dangerous.” She whispered.

“I’d do anything to kiss you again Savannah..” He smiled back, confusion overtaking him when she pushed him back. “I’ve been burned by you before…”

Aaron coughed, Spencer smiling cheekily. “Husband and wife you know… that type…” His face looked slightly sad but he didn’t have a moment to question it when the wardrobe in the corner started screeching.

“Penelope! Don’t be startled, we’ve brought someone for you to dress!” Derek calmed her. “Spencer, this is your wardrobe Penelope Garcia. A famous stylist.”

“When she can stay awake.” Aaron chuckling…

“Ahhh how amazing! Finally someone to gaudy up!” She cried happily, pulling him forth by his face, cheeks being pushed together. “Handsome, beautiful brown eyes, wow, sharp jaw line. I can do wonders with this!” She pulled different items out of her drawers, moths coming out with it.

“Whoops! Now, here we go!” A dark jacket which ended up being too big for him was draped over his shoulder, different fabrics wrapping around him to cinch his string-bean waist and cover him with to big trousers as well. Lastly, a giant powdered wig covered his hair and he was left looking well…foolish.

“It’s amazing, perfect as usual….we’ll leave you to it!” The three backed out of the room, shutting the door. At the sound, Penelope fell asleep again, leaving Spencer standing there.

He waddled over to the window, staring down at the thousands of feet of air that laid over the ground, which seemed so far away. Looking down at himself and the fabrics laying all over the floor, an idea struck him.

-

(Your POV)

You sauntered into the dining hall, bottom of the dress you wore everyday, grey and frayed, exposing your paws which replaced where your feet should have been. After sitting you looked across the table, seeing something different in your field of vision. It was another place setting. It took you a few seconds to realize who was behind this, and who it could be for. Shoving all the dining wear on the ground, you walked into the kitchen and found who you were looking for.

“You’re making him dinner?!” You roared, hand on your hip. The man turned around, a nervous smile growing. Aaron was on the table as well, face stoic. “I assure you mistress, I had no part in his will. It’s completely ridiculous, preparing him to dine, giving him a room… It’s not condoned for a prisoner.” You shook your head in a confused manner, anger overtaking your features.

“You gave him a room! Derek!” He backed up, hands in a surrendering manner. “Y/n, I was only thinking of you! This has to be the one, the one to break the spell! He cannot fall in love with you if he’s locked up! Right Aaron?” The clock blinked furiously. “This wasn’t my idea!” Derek laughed a bit, waving him off. “Of course it is, you just said so!

"Excuse me!” You barked, running a hand through your hair, paws getting caught in tangles before you ungraciously pulled them out. The bickering ceased. “How is anyone supposed to fall in love with me? Look at me, I’m hideous!” You rolled your eyes, trying to will away the sadness. “B-besides, his mother is a common thief, if he fell in love with me, what would that say about my character?”

“Now, you of all people cannot judge someone based off of who their parents are hm?” A soft voice came closer, a teapot, Jennifer, making her way over, sat upon a moving tray. You avoided her glare and folded your arms over yourself, looking away.

“Now Princess, if someone is truly in love with you then they will be able to see you for the beautiful woman you are on the inside, not for your outward appearance.” Aaron reminded you sternly. “Ah, finally, something he says I can agree with.” Derek mumbled.

“Well, how am I supposed to even interact with him?” You asked quietly, turning back to the trio. This was a hopeless plan already. Too may variables stood in your way. No matter how much your friends encouraged you, you couldn’t take it to heart or your hopes would raise too high.

“You invite him to dinner!” Derek urged, Jennifer and Aaron’s confirmation spurring you on. You nodded, slowly turning and making your way over. The men scurried to climb the tray to sit with Jennifer and see how this went. “I didn’t think she would actually do it.” Aaron whispered, his hope slowly growing.

The all followed you as you ventured up the stairs, making you even more nervous. Derek pointed out which room they gave him and you walked over to the door, not moving. “Maybe this was a bad idea….” You whispered, turning on your heel. “Stop!” They all cried, blocking your way.

“Just…Well, you can start by making yourself more presentable. Straighten up, try to act like a proper lady.” Arron advised. You straightened up, shoulders moving behind you looking for his reassurance.

“Ah yes, when he comes in, give him a beautiful, dazzling smile.  Come, come.  Show me the smile.” the corners of your mouth twitched, until a half of your mouth awkwardly went up.

“But don’t frighten the poor boy.” Jennifer warned and you returned to your scowl.

“Impress him with your rapier wit?” Aaron proposed.

“-But be gentle.” Jennifer interrupted.

“Shower him with compliments, guys like that.” Derek flashed his own smile.

“-But be sincere!”

“And above all…” Savannah chimed in.

“You must control your temper!” All four items chided, making you step back in alarm. After taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door.

“Gentle Y/n, the boy lost his mother and freedom all in one day…” You knocked again, softer this time. A faint, ‘Just a minute’ could be heard and you could swear you had never felt this nervous, even in your human form.

“W-will you join me for dinner?” You hesitantly asked, swallowing thickly. The silence that followed was practically deafening.

“You take me as your prisoner and then invite me to dinner? This is absolutely ridiculous! No!” Embarrassment on your part turned to anger and you could tell the staff started to get frustrated with you which only spurred your anger on more.

“I told you to join me for dinner!” You roared.

“And I told you no!” He yelled back.

“If he won’t eat with me then he’ll starve!” You screamed, bashing the wall so harshly you left an indent. You heard Jennifer gasp and you ran, tears replaced by more anger. It was so easy to hate yourself, now more then ever.

-

(Spencer’s POV)

Combining all the fabrics in Penelope’s drawers, plus the bedding of the frame occupied Spencer’s thoughts. It made it easy to forget his grief. He had to made sure that everything was tied just right so that it wouldn’t fall apart and he wouldn’t fall to his death.

Another knock on his door startled him. “I thought I told you to go away!” He yelled, jaw clenching. This castle was too confusing. Nice servants who were enchanted for some reason and a terrible mistress. It didn’t seem so hard to figure out why she was cursed, her temper was infuriating.

“It’s only Mrs. Jennifer, I come bearing tea!” He stood up, realizing he didn’t have enough time to pull his man-made rope up before she entered so he pushed it to the side, trying to stand in front of the bed post which had the rope tied to it.

“Oh! Aren’t you lovely? Handsome too!” She entered the room on her cart, frowning when she saw the rope. “Oh dear, it’s a long journey… let me fi you up before you go. I find most problems can be solved with a bracing cup of tea.” The teapot tilted herself over into a teacup which then proceeded to slide onto the floor. “Careful Henry, you could break your handle!”

Spencer picked the teacup and took a tentative sip, finding the hole situation a bit queer. “Wanna see me do a trick?” The young boy giggled, bubbles coming up from the tea.

“C'mon, if you are to leave tonight we should make sure you’re full before such a long trek.” She beckoned Henry back up on the tray with her, which started to head with the door.

“But she said 'If he doesn’t eat with me then he’ll starve’…” Spencer pointed out, following the moving tray.

“People say a lot of things in the heat on anger…it is our job whether or not to listen. Now come on poppet.” She lead the young man to the dining hall when upon his entrance, the candles were put out. Spencer took a hesitant seat.

“Monsieur.  It is with deepest pleasure and greatest pride that I welcome you tonight.  And now, we invite you to relax. Let us pull up a chair as the dining room proudly presents…your dinner.” Derek stood on the table, starting to sing.

Be Our Guest

“Why are you all being so nice to me?” Spencer asked, following 'JJ’ as she told him to call him, back up to his room.

“The Mistress is just a bit rough around the edges, pardon first impressions. Underneath all that is a princess…of a lady just waiting to emerge.” Spencer nodded but still didn’t believe her.

“Derek and Aaron were mentioning something about the West Wing…”

“-Never you mind about the West Wing.” They stopped at the end of the staircase. “Just go straight to bed.” JJ watched him as he headed up the stairs, nodding after a few moments, satisfied.

When the wheels of the cart echoed out of earshot, Spencer ran to the other side of the castle, his curiosity overtaking him. He looked throughout the halls, portraits scratched to the point of almost being unrecognizable.

One particular portrait caught his eye. A young woman, with s/c skin, thin/pouty lips and long/short/medium hair was painted ever so beautifully, but what caught his attention was the eyes. Deep, rich and full of color.

He entered upon a large room with various items torn up. A soft breeze hit him, the balcony windows being destroyed, cold air seeping through the room. A glass vase… of some sort pulled him next.

A rose was trapped underneath, petals surrounding the end of the stem. His fingers touched the glass, cool to the touch. A thump beside him startled him.

“What are you doing?!” You screeched, shoving his hand away. “What did you do to it?!” Spencer stepped back, wrapping his hands around himself.

“N-nothing, I-”

“Do you realize what you could have done? You could have ruined us all! G-get out! Leave!” You roared loudly, claws coming out. “Go!” You screamed again, watching him bolt out of the room.

“Monsieur! Where are you going?” Derek yelled as he and Aaron saw Spencer head for the door.

“Getting out of here!” He snapped, throwing the heavy door open, out into the snow.

“Please don’t go! It’s dangerous!”

@phoenixwwitch @totallynotn3rdy95 @cool-bluemoon @queenelsaschuyler @amarislestrange @rogerthatsgt @marieannfandoms @bekaperk @charcoalblack-ish @dontshootmespence

THE TWELVE DAYS OF THE ZODIAC SIGNS

ON THE FIRST DAY OF CHRISTMAS MY ARIES GAVE TO ME

A cherry bomb on my doorstep.

ON THE SECOND DAY OF CHRISTMAS MY TAURUS GAVE TO ME

Two nasty glares and one stubborn streak.

ON THE THIRD DAY OF CHRISTMAS MY GEMINI GAVE TO ME

Three (hundred) open tabs, two chemical experiments, and one debate.

ON THE FOURTH DAY OF CHRISTMAS MY CANCER GAVE TO ME

Four empty boxes of tissues, three boxes of cookies, two personalities, and one I Heart Mom tattoo.

ON THE FIFTH DAY OF CHRISTMAS MY LEO GAVE TO ME

Five temper tantrums, four purrs, three whines, two cuddles, and one big argument.

ON THE SIXTH DAY OF CHRISTMAS MY VIRGO GAVE TO ME

Six cleaning wipes, five nags, four diet plans, three bottles of bleach, two garbage bags, and one toilet scrubber.

ON THE SEVENTH DAY OF CHRISTMAS MY LIBRA GAVE TO ME

Seven changed minds, six bathroom breaks, five credit card bills, four designer brands, three drunk texts, two lovers, and one broken heart.

ON THE EIGHTH DAY OF CHRISTMAS MY SCORPIO GAVE TO ME

Eight death threats, seven pocket knives, six questionable website links, five craigslist ads, four disposable phones, three encryption codes, two broken bones, and one wild night.

ON THE NINTH DAY OF CHRISTMAS MY SAGITTARIUS GAVE TO ME

Nine spider species, eight drunken stupors, seven bank robberies, six albums of The Doors, five philosophical quotes, four arsons, three existential crises, two tears, and one stupid smile.

ON THE TENTH DAY OF CHRISTMAS MY CAPRICORN GAVE TO ME

Ten to-do lists, nine screams, eight coupons, seven chores, six bouts of passive aggressiveness, five silent treatments, four sarcastic remarks, three sneers, two eye rolls, and one migraine

ON THE ELEVENTH DAY OF CHRISTMAS MY AQUARIUS GAVE TO ME

Eleven conspiracy theories, ten questionable tattoos, nine mind games, eight robotic expressions, seven fake feelings, six unfinished projects, five invention ideas, four lab coats, three feelings, two cryptic texts, and one brutally honest statement.

ON THE TWELFTH DAY OF CHRISTMAS MY PISCES GAVE TO ME

Twelve prescription drugs, eleven glitter bottles, ten personal issues, nine booty calls, eight dead plants, seven knitted blankets, six odd fantasies, five “it’s not my fault!”, four stolen necklaces, three therapists, two art projects, and one true friend.

anonymous asked:

So I've only recently gotten into Spidertorch because I read Amazing Spiderman #680 so I went on TUmblr and read your fic and now I'm hooked. Do you have a list of MUST read comics for spidertorch shippers? That'd help me so much with my newfound obsession

I definitely do! Since we’re talking 50+ years worth of team-ups between two of Marvel’s biggest heroes, this is far from a definitive list - I mean, they literally meet in Amazing Spider-Man #1. Mostly I’m just highlighting my favorite issues. If anybody else would like to add onto it, please feel free!

Marvel 616

Recs under the cut! Surprising nobody, it got long.

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C. 1895

This busk front corset is typical of the beautifully designed styles of this period. Made from black lasting lined with white twill it features flexible corded hips and an intricate boning system involving forty two cane strips and four tempered steels down the back lacing. The corset is decorated with sky blue feather stitching. The cane boning allowed decorative stitching to be accomplished by the recently invented embroidery machine, and a skilled operative could safely pierce the cane strips without needle damage. The corset has a waist measurement of 22".