golden hoop

things the sister signs remind me of - romantic version

♡ aries & libra: pink chocolate, cherry earrings, fiery passionate lovers, rose gardens, red wine stained lips, pink silk robes, tuscany in the summer, neck kisses, being called baby, high school sweethearts, writing poetry for your lover, a-line mini skirts paired with knee-high boots, rose water, learning french, 60s girl groups, sickly sweet perfume

♡ taurus & scorpio: little parisian cafés, good girls and bad boys, dark plum lipstick and black lace lingerie, honeymoons, caramel coffee, partners in crime, wine tasting in florence, undying love, handsome men in suits, purple velvet, dancing in the moonlight, nancy sinatra songs, ribbons in your hair, candle light, cashmere sweaters, taking baths together, rose bouquets

♡ gemini & sagittarius: sea air, baby blue silk dresses, dancing around your apartment in your underwear with your lover, moonlit eyes, dreaming of the 70s, parisian balconies, piles of unread books everywhere, swimming in the ocean at night, exploring new places together, old records, counting stars, eating exotic fruit on the beach, sunkissed skin, making each other come alive

♡ cancer & capricorn: film noir, lavender fields in the south of france, classic literature, warm rain, waking up next to the love of your life, glossy manicures, vintage tea cups, 50s hairstyles, holding hands, keeping photos of loved ones in your wallet, falling asleep in their arms and feeling safe, looking at old photographs together, being protective of each other, jasmine tea

♡ leo & aquarius: red patent mini skirts, the artist and the muse, past life lovers, cherry flavored lip gloss, being each others biggest fan and supporter, powerful women in high heels, lipstick kisses on envelopes, making art in your underwear, being proud of your partner, golden heart shaped hoops, first kisses, breaking rules together as a hobby, faux fur coats

♡ virgo & pisces: first loves, white cotton sundresses, lullabies, milk and honey, being soft-spoken, buttercream blondes, wrists that always smell like roses, quiet sunday mornings, baby swans, a love that feels like coming home, claude debussy’s clair de lune, tender touches, dreaming of finally meeting your soulmate, soft tunes, goodbye kisses, satin sheets

Do Kyungsoo//The Singing Siren

Summary: You’re a mermaid with a longing to understand the pirates that roam your waters, and he’s a captive sent to your cove to find the treasure that lies in the heart of your island. You know where it is, but why would you tell him? ft. Johnny Seo
Scenario: mermaid!AU/pirate!AU
Word Count: 8, 736

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AUTHORS NOTE: hello!!!!! i am back!!!!!!! i wrote this little thing, in hopes of making it a multiple part series. so this is just part one! but if you guys dont like it, let me know and ill just leave it as it is. I also want to take a moment to say that i am back to UPLOADING A FIC OR HEADCANON ONCE A DAY!! when i first started this blog, that was my uploading schedule. life got in the way, but im back baby!!!!! 

Word Count: 2.4k ish

TW: suicide, suicide descriptions, swearing, therapy groups , etc

PS: i have been to many group therapies, so this is all just based purely on personal experience. so if this is triggering to you, please dont read any further!!!!

           Connor Murphy was special. Not special in the way you would describe a rare artifact or gem. He was special like the waves in the ocean, the colours in the sky, or oil paint on a canvas. He was special because you knew what to expect. Like a wave in the ocean, you expected to crash. Like the colours in the sky, you expected to fade out after hours of daylight. Like oil paint on a canvas, you expected to dry and harden after creating something beautiful. Connor Murphy was a synonym for beautiful; only the rarest of poets could find in a dictionary. He was the sound that rolled off of the tongue of a politician. He was the feeling of warm laundry, draping around your body. Connor was all of these things—which is why his downfall was to be expected.

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ratings of the planets

Mercury-11/10, smol, buddies with the sun, eccentric orbits, lot’s of craters but that’s what makes him beautiful

Venus- 27/12, she’s hot, tidally-locked, and my girlfriend; people fear her going into retrograde, the Soviets were super into getting through her smokey outer layers, brightest object in our night sky and she’s taken people

Earth- questionable, hand dryers rarely work, not as much quicksand as I was prepared for as a child, redeemed by the fact we are in the ‘golden location’ of sustaining life, nice, 10/9

Mars- 25/10, a good boy!! We sent robots out to meet him, totally earth’s bff, we’ll have to get used to lack of air and less gravity after earth is fed up with us

Jupiter- Saviour/1, we’d totally be dead right now without Jupiter, LARGE, the largest boy, full of raging storms and weird anomalies, but same

Saturn- 17/10, look at them hoops, beauty, golden, not as large but has it going on, shaped like a friend

Uranus- 22/11, don’t laugh at him!! He is blue and filled with love, very cold, ice giant, interior is made of rocks, ice, and a BIG HEART

Neptune- 24/8, very saucy, taking her time rounding the sun, slow, found with math instead of telescopes and that’s why we love her

rue-scribe-siren-deactivated201  asked:

I saw that Polish Masquerade dress and *instantly* thought BatB 2017--is that just me? I know it's not nearly as yellow, but something about the bodice seems similar .... anyway this is awesome as always 👌👌

I’ll give the Polish Masquerade costume this: at least they had a decent skirt and underpinnings! It’s a quite nice dress on its own, though the 1860s big hoop skirt style would have been just-out-of-fashion and hence a weird costume choice.

But yeah, there’s strong BATB vibes, though I actually find the Polish dress nicer and more detailed than the movie one - and look - you CAN make a corseted bodice and big hoop skirt danceable! Out of context I could easily have thought these were photos from a non-replica BATB:

carouselvomit-blog-deactivated2  asked:

do you have any self care tips / ways to feel more ethereal ? your blog is lovely !!

♡ midnight melodies (dancing to lullabies in rooms lit by candles two minutes until midnight, car air filled with the sound of screaming lungs to once forgotten songs, the smell of smoke blended with cool night air holding soft hints of a midnight lull)
♡ wanderer (barefoot in rivers, hair drenched in salt and smoke, notebooks filled with fragments of pressed leaves n flowers, hands overflowing with fireflies and honeysuckles)
♡ swimming pool lunged (night swimming swallowed in the glow of light, dresses drenched in chorine)
♡ dressed in lace (old lace fragments woven into dresses, golden hoop earrings and hair worn in soft waves)
♡ honey tongued (picnics of figs and sparkling rose water by summer ponds, caramel and milk candy stuffed in pockets)


Rosewater and dried fruit in September. Flower branches that have not blossomed just yet and seashells from the Michigan shore. Golden hoops reflect from the sun and cutting boards used for guavas and mangoes. The grass quivers this morning..

James x Reader / The happiest days

I’m sorry I haven’t been very active, I went through a bit of a mental dry patch and couldn’t have written anything halfway decent if my mother’s life depended on it. I promise I’m not ignoring requests because I want to.

It’s quiet in the common room at night, when everyone’s gone to sleep, dreaming of soft things like clouds and marshmallows floating in lakes of hot chocolate or something of that sort.

Yes, it’s quiet. And everyone dreams. And yet, padding gently down stone stairs in Christmas pattern socks is a girl, Y/N, whose dreams had not been so soft. They had been rather frightening in fact, and had motivated her out of bed and in the direction of the boys dormitory where she knew James Potter would be sleeping soundly save a few twitches here and there.

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The Hills - Chapter Two

Chapter One | Story Masterlist

Thank you for your sweet comments on the first chapter! This wasn’t supposed to be longer than two parts, but the story kinda developed on its own and I can already tell you there will be at least four more parts. I hope you enjoy! :)

WC: 3543

Warnings: strong language, angst galore, alcohol, tipsy driving (DON’T drink and drive, please), nsfw

Chapter Two: Professional

The next evening I had my second encounter with Negan and I was beyond nervous. He’d told me to meet him after dinner because he was going to be busy all day. It was a particularly hot evening so I decided to wear something less formal this time; I pulled a floral romper out of my closet and paired it with a pair of black sandals. I curled my eyelashes and applied a fairly generous amount of mascara, put my hair up into a ponytail and completed my outfit with a pair of golden hoop earrings.

I got into my car and sped down the highway to the mansion. When I reached the residential quartier Negan lived in, the gate opened, and just like the first time I had been there I parked my car near the entrance. This time, however, the atmosphere was completely different. The mansion at night looked like a whole new place, the massive fountain was illuminated by colored footlights and the garden was lit by the full moon.

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a/n: 1300 words. InuKag Day 7: Soul-Mates :)

“Just give me the shards, human.” He says abruptly.

“I have a name.” She sasses back calmly. “And it’s Kagome.”

“I didn’t ask.” He waves his hand dismissively and then lays it open and flat for receiving. “Give them to me.”

But she doesn’t give it to him, and walks away humming, wondering if he had been raised in a barn or abandoned in a forest to be raised by wolves.

“Raised by wolves-? woman-!“

“I know, I know,” she pats him softly, skin on his thigh like the smooth underside of a riverbed. “Let me keep telling the story.”

Wolves.” He grumbles.

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cafeetjazz  asked:


coffeehouses in france, lattes & croissants for breakfast, jazz music playing form another room,small golden hoops, an unspoken dream, dreamy road trips, dreaming of love & coffee dates ,jasmine scented candles, gazing the sunset, the color white, vintage books

dolcedove  asked:

Hello ^^ how do you describe your wardobe and the style you wears everyday ^^ I'm curious ; v ; I think you look like a fairy XD

hello n thank you moondove
transparent dresses ♡ soft textures (lace, linen, silk, velvet) ♡ golden hoop earrings ♡ socks with shoes composed of laces and buckles ♡ ghostly nightgowns ♡  hair in wave laced with braids ♡ wishing to incorporate more cloaks in wintertime ♡ 

icynovas  asked:

152, strifentine. or 39, teraqua.

39: “I wish we could stay like this forever.” -  Terqua 


First and foremost I just wanna say… the (considerably shorter) Strifentine fic response to your other prompt suggestion is also coming, I just figured this post was long enough already without it and I felt bad for making you wait forever for anything as is.  So, super sorry for the delay… the more I wrote the more emotionally invested I got in this thing, and the more important it became to me that I did it right.  The prompt felt like it fit really easily into the rosy lens of pre-canon, so of course I had to frame it with horrible angst not helped by the fact that my most recent encounter with Terqua content was 2.8.  Oops. Either way, hope you like, and here you go:

In the realm of darkness memory was a tangible feature of the environment.  The long years spent submerged in that chaotic abyss had done little to teach Aqua anything about its function, but she had learned that much at least.  Sometimes she found she’d walked unknowing into others’ memories - shards of old worlds long forgotten by those who lived in light, pockets of existence where bell-towers tolled on endlessly and fires burned on loop without ever going out. Sometimes she got lost in them, turned around in city blocks that had twisted into mazes after an eternity of floating in the corrosive ebb and flow of the shadow.

In here, she had nothing else but time, so eventually she always found her way back out.

But the most dangerous memories to be lost in, by far, were her own.  Most often, in the rare hours she stole of sleep, she sunk deep into dreams so real she woke still feeling the ghost of another’s touch on her skin, still tasting the almost-forgotten flavor of her favorite foods on her tongue.

And sometimes the dreams crept into her waking hours.

First, the featureless darkness around her would shift and mold, just on the edges of her vision where she wouldn’t notice right away.  As she wandered onward it gradually took familiar shapes and forms and the dread in her heart would grow.  Then she’d see a movement, turn around, keyblade crystallizing beneath her fingertips, ready to fight off another of the endless horrors that stalked her every hour, and find instead that she was in a place that couldn’t possibly exist - either not down here or not at all anymore.

Sometimes, she couldn’t even tell the difference.  Sometimes, when the landscape shifted and shed its oppressive lack of color, taking on vivid hues now so bright to her eyes that they all but blinded her, she couldn’t be sure if she’d just wandered into another pocket, or if her weariness had overcome her will at last and dragged her into slumber somewhere between footfalls.  

This was one of those times.

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