look i have the crown to prove it

WINTERVINE
by Lindsay Smith

I will rule for a thousand years, and none shall defy my reign.

I am the sole queen of these lands. Sole heir to the winter and the forests and the streams, sole arbiter of the echoing city streets of stone. So many would keep me from my throne, my true calling. But I have earned my place. I have shown them all what it means to rule.

It started with my sister. From my first hazy memories I remember her shadow weighing down on me, stifling my every move. “One day one of you must rule,” our father said to us, night after night when we gathered at his feet. “If it must be one of you, then I will be the one to choose.”

How could we learn to be sisters with such a decree? All I wanted was a friend, someone to look up to, someone to whisper to at night to keep the darkness away. But I learned quickly that that was only the surest path to her scorn. She saw me as weak, as foolish, as younger. I would reach out to her to pull me up and she would shove me right back down. I would show her my weakness and she would pry it open wide, ragged and bloody.

I didn’t realize the significance, at first, of what our father wanted us to become. Didn’t know what it meant to be queen, or why it was something worth fighting for. But as I learned from my sister, I learned to covet it, to hunger for it so fiercely that everything else tasted dried out and dull. She wanted to rule so that all would obey her. I wanted to rule so she could not.

The first time she tried to kill me, it was my nurse who gave it away. She woke me up in the dead of night and bundled me into a closet, told me not to make a noise no matter what followed. Then the guards came, swords drawn, visors lowered. They were only boys infatuated with my sister, but at the time everyone seemed impossibly old to me, unstoppably strong. I feared them, but I believed my nurse invincible too.

They taught me, quickly, how wrong I was.

After that, my father sent me to the country for a spell. Armed guards, a fleet of tutors, and an ailing count who watched over me with a gaze like sharpened knives. Sometimes the threats came in letters that the count would burn before he thought I could read them. Sometimes, It was assassins in the night.

Worst of all, though, were the long silences. The heaviness of her inaction dragging me to the bottom, drowning me. I never knew when the next assault would come for me.

Slowly, finally, I could wait no longer.

I found the woman in the country market, slender fingers grazing over her wares of pewter charms and crystals and bundled flowers. Her skin was smooth, her hair like silk, and when she looked my way, I saw the kiss of winter in her eyes.

“You look troubled,” she said, and the words wrapped around me like a soft breeze. “You look far too troubled for someone your age.”

I looked away then, ashamed to be so young. If I was older, if I was cleverer, I wouldn’t have to be sent away. I could prove myself worthy of the crown. I could beat my sister for good, beat her just enough that she’d never need attack me again. How foolish, that I thought winning once would be enough.

“Come closer.” She swept her hand over her goods. “Perhaps I might ease some of your pain.”

I started to meet with her every time I could sneak away from the count’s estate. It wasn’t often, but her lessons in the ways of magic filled me up with a sustenance I didn’t know I craved. I wanted to be her, to share her easy confidence and capability, to bend the world toward me with a subtle call the way she did. Her poultices cleared away blemishes and made water drinkable, but they also could boil blood, shatter bones, freeze a pond. She let me practice these skills as though they were interchangeable. She let me build on them, stringing them together like beads on a necklace, as I practiced on the woods beyond her hut.

The more power I gained, the more I sought. At long last, I understood the hunger in my sister’s belly. For now, I hungered too.

“You have a keen mind for magic,” she told me, when I worked something particularly cruel on a sparrow we found feasting on her garden. “A cruel mind. But I think a girl like you has to be cruel.”

“My sister is cruel. I just wish to survive.”

“Then I hope I’ve equipped you well,” she said. “Be like the wintervine. Feast on cold, on nothingness. For they have given you nothing. Use it to sprout your ice, your thorns.”

I looked at the wintervine where it flourished in the ice, and I felt its loneliness, its stubbornness, its scorn.

At long last I was of age, and my father sent for me once more. The time to choose was drawing near, but, he confided, in some ways he feared us both. His kingdom needed a decisive leader, yes, a sturdy leader, but compassion, too, he said, was called for. He did not see that he’d been the one to rob us of that. He didn’t see the dark seeds he’d planted in both our minds take hold.

My sister began her attempts anew, but this time, I was ready.

The first men she sent to kill me simply disappeared. They became nothing more than char burned into the cobbles of my bedroom floor. The next, though, I made sure she saw, their flayed corpses piled at the palace gates. Cruelty was my reflex, now, and each test made it stronger still.

“You cannot beat me,” she hissed, over a banquet table while our father entertained. “I deserve this. I will earn this.”

She cut her steak with a furious scrape of knife and fork. The noise grated at my soul. When was the last time she had shown kindness? It had been carved out of her, if it had ever been there at all.

Father wanted to make one of us a queen. He wanted someone compassionate. Maybe compassion was still in me; maybe not.

But it would never be in her.

As she swallowed, the lump of meat grew thorns. I could almost feel it myself as I directed it, as it swelled inside her throat, tore its way through her flesh. She gagged and choked, and I imagined she gagged and choked on all the hatred she’d let fester for years and years.

I wanted the coldness, the loneliness I felt to be visible to everyone. I wanted those thorns.

Frost sprouted from my fingertips and webbed across the banquet table. She scrabbled for a goblet of wine to try to wash the meat down, but everything turned cold. A guard stepped forward—but she deserved no kindness, no comfort. I never felt her embrace, so why should she feel the same? He withered, cold and empty, before he could reach her.

“What is the meaning of this?” my father cried. “Stop this at once!”

But the cold was radiant, alive now, warming me even as it drew warmth away from everything. The dark thorns in my sister’s throat flourished, drinking up the cold, and twined their way across the table to wrap around everyone’s limbs. My breath hung in the air before me as I stood, untouched, unsnared by the darkness and frost.

I had to beat her. I could not let her win.

And if I could feel no warmth, no freedom without her darkness over me, then neither could anyone.

I do not remember what came next, but it did not come for a long time. Icicles hung from the chandeliers; black thorns sprouted from the walls. All was still and glistening and cold. I walked through the hall like a phantom, soundless, for it was how I felt. But I was all that remained of my sister’s hatred. I was her greed given form.

And I will rule for a thousand years. With this cruelty beating inside me, my sister’s words, her greed, her anger—with the coldness she left inside me—I will rule for a thousand more.

anonymous asked:

Everyone seems to think that Hufflepuffs are the kinds of people to listen to Lana Del Rey and wear flower crowns, meanwhile me and most of my Hufflepuff friends are pretty into the rock/metal scene and dress to kill every day. I love how varied our house is, I just wish more people would put representation into the "reckless" looking Puffs to prove that ANYONE can have these lovely n sweet values/traits ! 💛

friendly reminder that nymphadora tonks aka the ultimate badass was a hufflepuff

Originally posted by secondhorcrux

Hail to the King

Characters: Crowley x Reader, Lucifer (mentioned)

Word Count: 1070 (With Lyrics)

Warnings: Language, Cannon Divergence,

A/N:  This is my first time writing Crowley and I thought it would be awful but thanks to @atc74, @chelsea072498, @paintrider13-blog and @tankcupcakes for their encouragement I did what I thought I couldn’t.  I heard this song and couldn’t get this idea out of my head!  Any and all feedback is welcomed!!!

A/N 2: This is my entry for the lovely @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms ‘s 2,000 follower celebration/ challenge.  My prompt was “My friend said I couldn’t do it so I had to prove them wrong” which I changed to “Everyone says I can’t do it so I have to prove them wrong.” I hope you don’t mind =) and congrats again!

Beta’d: The amazingly wonderful @atc74

**I tag base off this list right here so if you would like to be added you can add yourself**

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The Lost Kingdom of Lis

@hd-hale

by @ghostfuker69

Teen and up - very brief description of violence, someone gets poisoned (but voluntarily?)

Medieval AU featuring Omegaverse, full-shift werewolves, werefox!Stiles who is also a secret prince acting as manservant to Prince Derek. They fall in sweet, sweet love. 


Brief excerpt (check out the rest on AO3!):

Peter looked like the cat that had gotten the cream. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and hummed, “Ah, of course. That horrible tragedy that occurred there just three short weeks ago. My condolences. I know that after an event like that, you will surely be seeking to make a life here in Triskele.”

Stiles looked up at the Duke with wary golden eyes and gave a gentle nod. “Yes, Your Grace. I have found employment here under Master Deaton, though. He knew my mother, they were good friends in their younger days.”

Peter hummed and shrugged, “Of course. But no position would be as prestigious as a place in the Royal household, don’t you think, dear sister?”

Talia looked over the fox with interest and gave a small nod. “He did display quite exceptional bravery in his act. Perhaps he could find use being Derek’s personal manservant? After all, Derek will have far more responsibilities now that he is the official Crowned Prince.”

Derek and Stiles both sputtered, Derek out of offense and Stiles out of surprise. The Prince shook his head, “Mother, I have no need for a personal manservant. Let along an Omega fox.”

Talia’s eyes widened, “Derek Lucas Hale, I have taught you better than to judge others based on their gender, have I not? Stiles is a Fox, yes, but he has proved to us that there is no reason to assume he is here to harm you. Omegas work as servants and simply take heat leave, it is not unheard of.”

Derek looked like a thoroughly scolded pup at the end of Talia’s rant. He gave up quickly and nodded, “Of course, mother.”

Talia brightened and nodded, “Good. Then, young fox, I will expect you to shadow Derek’s current servant for a short week before taking over the duties completely.”

Read the rest on AO3

anonymous asked:

Thank you so much for having this blog and just treating this topic with respect. The other day I was looking at Dahmers crime scene photos and what made me sick was that there are blogs that refer to Jeff as their "lil gay boi" with a default of Jeff in a flower crown. That's disgusting. Im not ashamed yo be part of the TCC knowing there's people like you

While I don’t like judging people in the TCC for who they find attractive, I agree that there’s a limit to how much you can express yourself until it becomes distasteful. I personally hate the flower crown edits, the imagines involving killers,  and the weird little pet names people have for serial killers. It really does make everyone in the TCC look like a groupie, whereas I try to stay as far away from groupiedom as possible. 

In a way, I want my blog to prove that not everyone in this community is a fangirl or an edgelord. I’m passionate about educating people on crime and how to avoid victimization, and hopefully that shows in my posts :) 

4

Gray Ghost Week (May 3 - May 9)
Day 2: Fantasy/Lore AU

The Cycle restarts.

Phantom, I must tell you - warn you. There’s something you should know.

You fought the Ghost King, Pariah. Even at his strongest - wearing the Crown of Fire, and the Ring of Rage - you didn’t hesitate. You saved us all. For that, we thank you - but I’m afraid you went into that fight blind.

Pariah Dark was not always evil. Nor was he always King. The Ghost Zone’s royalty is chosen not by birthright, but by the artifacts they wield.

That’s right. The Crown of Fire chooses the King, not the other way around. 

And the ring, you ask? Very perceptive of you. They were never meant to be worn together, the ring and the crown. Each has a mind of its own; Each chose a different person to bear them.

You see, The Crown of Fire was meant for Pariah.

The Ring was for his wife.

Keep reading

Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present to you, my history crush: King Richard III of England. Born on October 2nd 1452, the youngest of eleven - ELEVEN - children of Richard Duke of York and his wife Cecily. Lost his dad at eight years old in battle, had to go into exile with his brother George, they stayed at Utrecht, and when his other brother Edward was crowned the fourth King of that name, he and George were created Dukes of Gloucester and Clarence respectively.

Anyway. He was fiercely loyal to his brother the King, which earned him 10+ titles, and pretty much half of England. He had a good eye for law and order, he took his religion very seriously (he even had his own Book of Hours which he made notes in), and when Edward died in 1483, Richard was named Lord Protector for Edward V until he came of age.

Now this is where the controversy really happens. The boy king’s mother, Elizabeth Woodville, and her family, were not happy to hear that Richard was Lord Protector and not her brother Anthony Earl Rivers. She didn’t trust Richard to look after her sons and keep them safe, plus she knew the boy King would sooner take advice from Uncle Rivers than Uncle Gloucester. Bishop Robert Stillington of Bath and Wells came to Richard during his Protectorship and claimed that Edward IV’s marriage to Ms Woodville was in fact bigamous and Parliament therefore declared Edward V and his brother Richard Duke of York illegitimate. Since there was no other legitimate heir to the throne, Richard of Gloucester did what he had to in order to ensure the security of the realm and take the crown for himself. So, in late June 1483 he was crowned King Richard III together with his wife Queen Anne Neville in a joint coronation. Rumours were spread that Richard had the two boys bumped off to make his rule secure. Another theory suggests that Richard had them sent to safety in secret. Or maybe, when King Richard sent for his nephew Richard he was given a body double with the real Duke of York sent to safety, and the two boys still got killed. Or maybe even this; Edward V died of a fever whilst young and the other sent to safety? The truth is, no-one knows. And whilst people are refused permission to (literally) go digging, we’re not gonna know.

Now. During his twenty-six month reign, Richard III enacted laws that were designed to protect the common people, and they still apply today. He was a fine soldier; he was able to crush a rebellion that happened just four months after his coronation. Unfortunately, he also suffered great losses; his only legitimate son, Edward of Middleham, died of a fever aged just eight, and his wife, Queen Anne, died eleven months later, possibly of tuberculosis. Another rumour was spread that he expressed a desire to marry his niece, Elizabth of York, but the problem was that the law that made him the legitimate successor also made her illegitimate. It could very well be that there was a misunderstanding at court because people will have heard that he was busy making marriage arrangements not only for himself but also for Elizabeth. The truth is he was looking to the Portugese royal family, descendants of the Lancastrian line, to find suitors for himself and Elizabeth. 

There was always the looming threat of invasion coming from a Welshman of the Lancastrian line called Henry Tudor. Richard rarely took this seriously, up until the day of battle itself. August 22nd 1485. Bosworth. Richard was confident he would win, even without the help of Thomas, Lord Stanley and his brother, who said they couldn’t join him due to illness. The battle was going quite smoothly for Richard, until a third force charged in, by Stanley himself… for Tudor. Richard is said to have called him out for treason, and that he ultimately “died fighting manfully amongst the thickest press of his enemies”.

Since his death and Henry’s accession to the throne as Henry VII, many vicious rumours were spread about him, ranging from him having a hunchback (he actually had scoliosis - two very different things. It’ll have been noticed after Richard’s body was stripped of its armour and all valuables after his death on the battlefield, and then flung onto the back of a horse, “privy parts” on show and everything), to him having murdered his nephews, poisoned his wife in order to marry his niece… you can thank Thomas More and William Shakespeare for all that, because they lived under Tudor reign, they did to please their kings and queens, a portrait of Richard was even tampered with to make him look more evil because that also meant legitimising Henry’s seizure of the throne at Richard’s expense. The public had to believe that Henry Tudor was in the right for taking the crown from Richard, they had to believe he saved the realm from the tyrant that was Richard.

The truth is, Richard was no tyrant. He was a gentle, loyal person, and his downfall was partly brought on by placing his trust in the wrong people. He would have made a damn good king had he more than just twenty-six months to prove himself. I firmly believe that.

TL;DR - Richard was a good guy and I will defend him to the death OK

We’d Make A Cute Couple

Summary: Dan comes out to his parents and of course they’re not happy and think it’s a phase. Dan enlists the help of his best friend Phil to pretend to be his boyfriend.
Word Count: 2,822
Genre: AU, Fluff
Triggers/Warnings: homophobic parents + swearing
Beta: the one and only @miememegan <3.

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2

The mystery of the hairstyles of the Caryatids. The interesting experiment.

For two and a half thousand years caryatids contemplate the Parthenon and Athens from the south porch of the Erechtheion. Individually handcrafted with Parian marble and custom in slabs of gray Eleusinian stone, the five daughters who - in convincing explanation - values attributed to the glorious dead King Cecrops of Athens and have a different hairstyle.

There were no or hairstyles Caryatids?

And it is the elaborate hairstyles of the Caryatids of the Erechtheion presented until June 26 the Greek embassy in Washington at an exhibition entitled «The Caryatid Hairstyling Project» based on an idea by Professor of Fairfield University in Connecticut United States and specialist in Greek and Roman art and archeology Katherine Schwab.

The hairstyles of the Caryatids was inspired the sculptor who created or originated from real women of that time? This was the question that was born in K. Schwab when he saw in 2007 at an exhibition photographs depicting the Caryatids. This is how, then, decided to set up an experiment to test the hairstyles, in cooperation with the hairdresser Milexi Torres and six students from the University of Fairfield with long and thick hair which were used as models.

The “answer” of research

After careful observation, Dr. Schwab realized that the hairstyles were different from one another, however, been based on a basic model. The result in the hair of the girls proved that the hairstyles that adorned the crown of the Caryatids were so in turn come from real women of the era. For each hairdo took about an hour and certainly in ancient times each daughter would have help the maids.

“Although it is very simple,they have complicated look,” said Schwab on the hairstyles of the Caryatids. The six students who participated in the experiment felt a different kind of connection with the ancient world. “I realized that there were people living at the era. There was a longer period of ancient history, "said one of them, the Amber Novak.

Hairstyles that testify status

In ancient Athens, the hairstyles were a symbol of high social status and wealth.

Caryatids of the Erechtheion was originally six. Five of these are in the Acropolis Museum and the sixth, which was removed by Lord Elgin in 1801, at the British Museum. The position of the second from West Kore remains vacant.


Το μυστήριο με τα χτενίσματα των Καρυάτιδων: Το ενδιαφέρον πείραμα.

Εδώ και δυόμιση χιλιάδες χρόνια οι Καρυάτιδες ατενίζουν τον Παρθενώνα και την Αθήνα από τη νότια πρόσταση του Ερεχθείου. Ξεχωριστά δουλεμένες με Παριανό μάρμαρο και προσαρμοσμένες σε πλάκες από γκρίζο ελευσινιακό λίθο, οι 5 Κόρες που - κατά την πειστικότερη εξήγηση - απέδιδαν τιμές στον ένδοξο νεκρό Βασιλιά Κέκροπα της Αθήνας παρουσιάζουν και διαφορετικό χτένισμα.
Υπήρξαν ή όχι τα χτενίσματα των Καρυάτιδων;

Και είναι τα περίτεχνα χτενίσματα των Καρυάτιδων του Ερεχθείου που παρουσιάζονται μέχρι τις 26 Ιουνίου στην ελληνική πρεσβεία της Ουάσινγκτον σε μια έκθεση με τίτλο «The Caryatid Hairstyling Project» βασισμένη σε μια ιδέα της καθηγήτριας του πανεπιστημίου Φέρφιλντ, στο Κονέκτικατ των Ηνωμένων Πολιτειών και ειδικό στην ελληνική και ρωμαϊκή τέχνη και αρχαιολογία Κάθριν Σουάμπ.

Τα χτενίσματα των Καρυάτιδων τους ήταν έμπνευση του γλύπτη που τις δημιούργησε ή προέρχονταν από πραγματικές γυναίκες της εποχής; Αυτή ήταν η ερώτηση που γεννήθηκε στην Κ. Σουάμπ όταν είδε το 2007 σε μια έκθεση φωτογραφίες που απεικόνιζαν τις Καρυάτιδες. Κάπως έτσι, λοιπόν, αποφάσισε να οργανώσει ένα πείραμα για να δοκιμάσει τα χτενίσματα, σε συνεργασία με την κομμώτρια Μιλέξι Τόρρες και έξι φοιτήτριες από το Πανεπιστήμιο του Φέρφιλντ με μακριά και πυκνά μαλλιά οι οποίες χρησιμοποιήθηκαν ως μοντέλα.

Η «απάντηση» της έρευνας

Μετά από προσεκτική παρατήρηση, η δρ. Σουάμπ συνειδητοποίησε ότι τα χτενίσματα διέφεραν το ένα από το άλλο, ωστόσο, βασίζονταν σε ένα βασικό πρότυπο. Το αποτέλεσμα στα μαλλιά των κοριτσιών απέδειξε ότι τα χτενίσματα που κοσμούσαν την κόμη των Καρυάτιδων είχαν και αυτά με τη σειρά τους προέλθει από πραγματικές γυναίκες της εποχής. Για κάθε κόμμωση χρειάστηκε περίπου μιά ώρα και σίγουρα στην αρχαία εποχή η κάθε Κόρη θα είχε τη βοήθεια θεραπαινίδων.

«Αν και είναι πολύ απλά, μοιάζουν περίπλοκα», ανέφερε η Σουάμπ σχετικά με τα χτενίσματα των Καρυάτιδων. Οι έξι φοιτήτριες που συμμετείχαν στο πείραμα ένιωσαν ένα διαφορετικό είδος σύνδεσης με τον αρχαίο κόσμο. «Κατάλαβα ότι υπήρχαν ζωντανοί άνθρωποι εκείνη την εποχή. Δεν ήταν πια μια περίοδος της αρχαίας ιστορίας», είπε μία από αυτές, η Άμπερ Νόβακ.

Χτενίσματα που μαρτυρούν κοινωνική θέση
Στην αρχαία Αθήνα, τα χτενίσματα ήταν ένα σύμβολο υψηλής κοινωνικής θέσης και ευμάρειας.

Οι Καρυάτιδες του Ερεχθείου ήταν αρχικά έξι. Οι πέντε από αυτές βρίσκονται στο Μουσείο της Ακρόπολης ενώ η έκτη, που αφαιρέθηκε από το λόρδο Ελγιν το 1801, στο Βρετανικό Μουσείο. Η θέση της, δεύτερης από Δυτικά Κόρης παραμένει κενή.

The Miz

Let me tell you why I love this guy so much. 

He is so incredibly intelligent when it comes to the wrestling business. Not only is he extremely smart when it comes to the business side of it, but he cares. He cares. He put over the women tonight, he put over guys tonight like Apollo Crews and Zack Ryder. He spoke highly of both AJ Sytles and Dean Ambrose. He is so genuine and humble, and these days in the wrestling business, that’s something we rarely come across anymore. He takes pride in being Champion, and he is one of the best heels in the company today. He worked his way literally from the bottom all the way to the top. Nobody believed in him when he started out. Even his parents told him he’d never be a WWE Superstar. One morning, he woke up, looked himself in the mirror and said that he was going to do this. He proved everybody wrong. The Miz is a WWE Champion, a Money in the Bank winner, a two-time U.S Champion, a six-time Tag Team Champion, a Grand Slam Champion, a Triple Crown winner, and a six-time Intercontinental champion. The Miz is so unrated and underappreciated. I wish people would see the greatness I have seen in him for years. I cannot wait for the day he goes into the Hall of Fame because damn does that boy deserve it. 

saessenach  asked:

'lo there! :D you're a lovely author, so here ya go, milathos, if you will: post-mission heavy banter/arguing turns into hot 'n'heavy. y'know, the good stuff ^^

Hello! Thank you so much for the compliment! It really means the world to me, flattery will get you everywhere in this case =) Ok, here’s your prompt, but I have to apologise - it strayed quite far from what you asked in the end… I tried to keep it in line, but it is what it is and I hope you enjoy it anyway. I honestly have no idea how this happened)

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Beau Bennett - Panic (Requested)

You heard the gasp of the crowd before you saw it. There was someone lying on the ice, his body unmoving.  A panic set in when you searched the ice for Beau, not wanting to look at the player lying motionless. You couldn’t breathe, it couldn’t be him, it couldn’t you told yourself.

“Y/N” someone called out for you, breaking you from your trance. That’s when you saw that it was Beau lying face down.

“I need to go” you yelled before turning around and sprinting out the door of the lodge. You were running and you weren’t really sure where you were going. You had to get to Beau, you had to be with him.  You were right about to run through the door that would lead you to the ice to the tunnel and locker room when an arm came out to stop you.

“Ma’am where are you going, this is a restricted area” the security personnel said.

“My boyfriend is Beau Bennett, he just got hurt I need to be with him,” you said out of breath.

“If I believed everybody that told me that I would have half the arena in the locker room,” he said with an air of arrogance.

“Would a random person have these?” you said opening your phone and showing the person pictures of you and Beau together.

“Dedicated fan?” He answered.

“Listen I don’t have time to prove to you my relationship status please just let me through this door” you said on the verge of tears. Before the security guy could respond you heard the sound of the crown clapping, Beau must have gotten up.

“Look you know who Dupuis is right?” you said hoping your plan would work.

“Of course” he answered.

“Here” you said calling Duper on FaceTime hoping he would be looking at his phone.

“Y/N?” His voice came over the phone a couple seconds later.

“Duper please tell him I need to get to Beau,” you said in a rush turning the phone so the security guy could see it.

There was a quick moment of explanation before the blushing guard moved to the side allowing you to keep moving. You rounded the corner of the locker room right as Beau was being helped off the ice. He cracked a weak smile when he saw you standing in tears.

“Come here” he mumbled hoarsely once he was seated on the examination table. You ran to him wrapping your arms around him as soon as you got to him as if it were you who needed comforting.

“You scared me, I didn’t see you get up” you said letting the tears fall.

“I’ll be okay, just got knocked out for a second” he said keeping a joking tone.

You sat next to Beau for the next couple of minutes as the doctor went over everything. Beau couldn’t get back into the game and would probably be out for a week with a concussion but the doc said it was okay to head home.

“By the way what took you so long?” Beau said with a smirk.

“You don’t even want to know” you said answer with a laugh.

“I’m just teasing, Duper sent me a text,” he said with a laugh as he handed you his car keys.

“Oh you’re hilarious, you have no idea how freaked out I was” you said with your cheeks burning red.

“I know babe,” he said pulling you into his side and kissing the top of your head.

“Let’s go home and take care of your big fat head,” you said unlocking the car doors.

“Ouu do we have a sexy nurse costume at home because I have some ideas” He said while climbing into the car.

“Not going to happen” you answered, or maybe it would.

xenaphobiia  asked:

Aw thanks so much for getting back to me Alicia! If you don't mind, may I request Sasuke absentmindedly playing with Sakura's short hair, and when she asks what he's doing, he just says that he really loves her hair, thus making Sakura realize that he never really cared for long her (only her's) :) thank you!

Sorry this took so long, I am slower than next year’s Christmas lately. Dx

-x-

Sasuke likes Sakura best when she’s sleeping, when the last vestiges of innocence still cling to her eyelashes and the echoes of carefree laughter long left behind in childhood still hover between her parted lips.

During the long nights when he can’t sleep, he unconsciously anticipates the way her arms will seek him out, the way her hands will curl around his abdomen as if to never let him go. He needs the way her head comes to rest against his heart, and he syncs its beating with the tempo of the rising and falling of her chest.

This is how he relearns to breathe, one heartbeat at a time. The sight of her sleeping face eases the iron bands around his lungs, and he remembers how it feels to flex the corners of his mouth in something other than a scowl. He takes deep breaths, uncomfortable with the sensation after living so long as a steel coil of tension.

As the full moon waxes in the inky night sky, he hesitantly lifts his remaining hand. Lighter than the touch of a feather, he brushes at the pink tendrils of hair that have fallen to rest across her lips. He pauses as a puff of her breath blows the strands to the side, then tentatively curls the stray lock around his forefinger.

Even diluted by the moon’s light, Sakura’s hair still reminds him of spring, of genin days, and days where he might have been something close to happy.

He lets the strands unravel from his blood-stained finger, he is not fit to touch her. And yet, here she lies across his chest, exposed and vulnerable in her sleep. The significance of this trust sends a searing ache through his chest, and this time he allows his hand to sift through her soft tresses, coming to rest at the back of her neck.

His breath catches in his throat as she shifts in her sleep, but she soon settles back into easy slumber. His fingers return to weaving in and out of her hair, shorter now than it was when they were younger.

He doesn’t recall the exact moment of its severance, only the bruises on her face that accompanied it and the black fire burning through his veins at the sight. His fist clenches in a mass of pink, and he releases it in a panic as Sakura winces in her sleep.

He does recall the way her hair used to hang down her back like a bright beacon, beckoning him onward whenever he acted as rear guard on missions.

She used to be so proud and conscientious of her mane, and Sasuke smirks to himself as he considers the difference between then and now. Now, while her hair is just as soft and luxuriant, it gets shoved harshly out of her face and thrown haphazardly into a tail behind her head.

Sasuke likes to tug on it when she comes home from the hospital, likes to see the exasperation in her eyes as he releases her signature feature from its confines, noting the way it falls to frame her face. To distract her from his fascination, he’ll smirk at her and poke her forehead.

Lost in thought, fingertips gently massing her scalp of their own accord, he is startled to find apple-green eyes blinking hazily at him.

“Saskun…wha’re you doin’?” she slurs sleepily.

Sasuke shakes his head, smiling to himself. She’s so damn beautiful, even when she’s incoherent. “Nothing, go back to sleep.”

But Sakura frowns. “Tha’ doesn’t feel like nothin’,” she mumbles, “it feels good.”

On a whim, Sasuke curls a large section of carnation pink around several fingers and lifts it to his lips. Blearily, Sakura watches him in fascination.

“My hair’s too short,” she grumbles.

Sasuke snorts lightly, a gust of air that scatters the strands of her hair everywhere. “It is not. It suits you.”

Her frown turns into a scowl as her eyelids flutter shut again. “But you like long hair.”

His eyes are rolling, even if she can’t see it. “Sakura, I like your hair.”

To prove his point, he leans over and lightly kisses the crown of her head. She looks up at him, confused. “But when we were younger-”

“When we were younger I was a little shit, and you listened to the opinion of girls that I still have yet to give the time of day.”

Sasuke lies back with a satisfied expression, watching the wheels turn behind her eyes. After a minute, he sees it start to fall into place for her.

“So,” she starts slowly, “you don’t mind that my hair is short?”

He shakes his head, a smile playing at his lips. “No. I like it better this way. But if you wanted to grow it out, I would like that too.”

Sakura’s face scrunches in confusion. “Okay. But it’s still pink.”

He sighs. “So?”

“So pink is so…I don’t know. Girly.”

He takes her chin between his fingers, forcing her gaze to his. “Sakura. It’s not girly, it’s you. And I. Like. It.”

The disbelief finally clears from her expression, and she stretches out so she can kiss him lightly. Mischieviously, she reaches up to ruffle his unruly spikes.

“I like yours too, Sasuke-kun.”

Do you think I haven’t already thought of this?! Sovereign is a machine, it thinks like a machine! If I can prove my value, I become a resource worth maintaining – there is no other logical conclusion.

I have mentioned this before, but it is worth noting how scared Saren is of being a faliure – of being eradicated.

In his world where only black and white makes sense and was constantly shown to be an effective method to deal with things, he has no concept of how to look at the in-between.

Reminds us of someone else, doesn’t it?

If only Saren had someone to show them that grey is a valid path, if only Saren was not crowned as the youngest Spectre in history by his extreme methods and perspective, he might have been saved from this fate.

He is so motivated by his fear of failing and being useless, he couldn’t see he literally walked himself to his own failure.

anonymous asked:

I really love your rants. Can I ask a massive one about a bunch of Disney/animation ships? Starting from Helsa. I really would like to hear what you think about it, because i like your explanations. I'm not a shipper of either Hanna or Helsa, but I'm just curious to hear your point of view, which is always interesting to read (like what you said on Frozen and its characters and storyline). P.s.: I love your prompts/headcanon!!! You're a great artist and writer.

Awwww, first of all, thank you kind anon! <3

Sorry for taking so long, but I’ve been terribly busy…plus, i wanted to give some thought to my answers. I didn’t want to upset anyone by saying a thing the wrong way…i know how sensitive people are about this fandom -___- *sighs*

Click below for a huge rant with doodles! :D

Keep reading

So Everyone Needs to Chill a Little

Ok so- I’ve been seeing a lot of stuff on my dash on the new champ, Jihn the Virtuoso, basically just being a ripoff of Caitlyn on steroids. And although everyone is allowed their opinion on this I think there’s a lot of points being missed in this guy’s creation.

First. This guy is not a sniper. You can see pretty clearly if you look at his weapon that it’s more akin to a handgun than anything else.

Even when he’s making that ridiculous ranged ult, it’s a barrel he’s attaching to it to increase his range. 

Gameplay wise, it’s not something any of us can tell for the moment, but personally that’s a bit of the least of my worries since he already seems to be more akin to Varus in his abilities than Cait.

Second Why compare him to a better version of caitlyn with what we do know on his abilties? Sure the guy seems to have incredible range, but he misses sometimes. Caitlyn never misses in her ult (save for maybe a windwall but that doesn’t count). 

Third, and most importantly:  Similarities between the two is not  a bad storytelling element. It’s fucking terrifying. And I’m going to explain why.

In a lot of ways, you could argue that he’s a better marksman than Cait, yeah! I mean, despite his slow attack speed he’s taken the whole of the league community in fear with his teasers. And when was the last time we saw something similar to this? An enemy that was just barely always one step ahead of her?

Oh yeah. 

C.

Except this time it’s not just a small time cat burglar that’s a sting to her pride, it’s a legitimate danger to her town and someone who’s targeting her own partner. She’s been put against something she knows very little about and finds his trade in something she was previously known for: marksmanship. And if having a cat burglar pisses you off enough to join the institution of war, how do you think she’s going to take someone taking away her crown?

I’m probably in the minority here, but I actually would love to see him be a better marksman in lore than her. Because it’s scary. It gives off a feeling of helplessness and a determination to prove yourself better than a great evil haunting your town. 

It’s a battle against impossible odds. A chance for massive character growth and struggle. 

You bet I’m looking forward to that.

anonymous asked:

there's a lot of talk about whether aegon is fake or not, but what he's actually like? you write the best meta, and you always back it up!

Omg so not true but thanks anon! <3 Actually, I did write a bit about Aegon’s personality- see here.

To be honest, I find Aegon to be a little petulant in the chapters we see him in (making Jon Connington wait for hours for no reason whatsoever for instance) but overall I disagree with this sentiment that he’s “Tagraryen mad” or whatever.

For starters, I strongly disagree with this idea that Targaryens are mad/great and that this dichotomy is just a thing that is accepted as true all the time. I think people misinterpret the gods flipped a coin line a lot.

Take for example Dany, people clamor to call her “mad” or “great” and overlook the fact that she’s the proof in my opinion that this dichotomy doesn’t exist at all.

“Every child knows that the Targaryens have always danced too close to madness. Your father was not the first. King Jaehaerys once told me that madness and greatness are two sides of the same coin. Every time a new Targaryen is born, he said, the gods toss the coin in the air and the world holds its breath to see how it will land." Barristan in Dany, ASoS

"Danced too close to madness”, not because Targaryens are either mad or great but because there’s a fine line between the two: madness and greatness.

Dany is mad to try some of the things she does (hello, she set herself on fire for a feeling) but that’s also why she’s great. And of course Dany is self-aware enough to recognize this.

First when she has her instinct about the dragon eggs and fire:

Was it madness that seized her then, born of fear? Or some strange wisdom buried in her blood? Dany could not have said. She heard her own voice saying, “Ser Jorah, light the brazier.”

“Khaleesi?” The knight looked at her strangely. “It is so hot. Are you certain?”
She had never been so certain. “Yes. I… I have a chill. Light the brazier.”
He bowed. “As you command.”
When the coals were afire, Dany sent Ser Jorah from her. She had to be alone to do what she must do. This is madness, she told herself as she lifted the black-and-scarlet egg from the velvet. It will only crack and Burn, and it’s so beautiful, Ser Jorah will call me a fool if I ruin it, and yet, and yet…

Cradling the egg with both hands, she carried it to the fire and pushed it down amongst the burning coals.

And then when she actually wakes them:

As she climbed down off the pyre, she noticed Mirri Maz Duur watching her. “You are mad,” the godswife said hoarsely.

Is it so far from madness to wisdom?” Dany asked.  

I always think of this quote by Carl Sagon, just a silly quote I like, when I think of the Targaryen madness/greatness: “The fact that some geniuses were laughed at does not imply that all who are laughed at are geniuses. They laughed at Columbus, they laughed at Fulton, they laughed at the Wright brothers. But they also laughed at Bozo the Clown.”

If it works, it’s not madness now is it? Dany’s (successful) attempt to wake the dragons could have ended up like the Tragedy of Summerhall, it’s not like she was the first Targaryen to try. But it worked and there’s that fine line between madness and greatness again.

So I think people are very confused about that and looking at Aegon for “madness” to prove something. If he is indeed as bad as some people think (which strongly remains to be seen,) it’s probably got more to do with this line than Barristan’s:

“Crowns do queer things to the heads beneath them,” Tyrion agreed. Tyrion, ACoK

Despite all that Varys has (supposedly) attempted, Aegon appears to have the entitlement that comes with being raised told you were born to rule over others.

All that being said, I do think it’s very noteworthy that Aegon wants to lead his men into battle. That is not common at all in ASoIaF. Leaders typical command from behind.

He just seems young and foolish if anything to me. Overall, though, he doesn’t seem to be all that bad.

Nate Maloley Imagine: Our Tattoo.

Can you do an imagine where nate takes you to get a tattoo and once you get there you chicken out so he gets a matching tattoo and holds your hand the whole time and talks you through it

_______________________________________________________________________

Warning: Includes a sweet Nate Maloley.

Warning: This will be goals af for many people.

Y/N’s POV: 

Today was the day, I was finally getting my first tattoo. It took a while but my boyfriend Nate finally convinced me. I planned on getting something small on my lower back, hip, or shoulder, so it wouldn’t be long and painful. I was thinking a heart or an infinity sign but I didn’t know for sure what I wanted. I thought about getting something to represent Nate but I thought he would think that idea was too cheesy. 

“Are you almost ready babe?” Nate asked me smiling. He was probably more excited for this than I was. He’s been wanting me to get a tattoo for a long time. He said they would look so nice on my body. He eventually was able to persuade me so here we are.

“Yeah babe, I just have to put on my shoes.” I slipped on my Roshe Runs slowly, trying to slow the process of going to the tattoo parlor. 

“Are you sure you wanna do this babe? You can totally back out, it’ll be okay.” Nate said to me.

Although I contemplated the idea, I wasn’t backing down. I wasn’t going to look wimpy to my boyfriend. “No baby, I’m definitely ready.” I said flashing a smile.

“Alright then, let’s go.” Nate said grabbing my hand and walking me out to the car.

We both got in. Nate was driving, and I didn’t mind, I was way too nervous to be behind the while right now. The anticipation was killer. It made the ride to the parlor feel like an hour when in reality it was only about five minutes. I almost shouted at Nate to turn around, to drive home, that I wasn’t ready for this. I couldn’t do it though, something stopped me, no words would come out. I sighed before getting out of the car and grabbing on to Nate’s hand.

We both walked into the tattoo parlor together. Nate knew the guy from all the tattoos he has gotten and was able to get me the first appointment of the day. I sat in a chair and waited while Nate talked to the guy.  His name is Liam. 

“I’m just setting up, but do you have an idea of the tattoo you want and where you want it so I can start sketching it out? Did you bring a picture or anything?” Liam asked me smiling. 

“I-I uh, I was thinking of getting an infinity sign on my shoulder.” I stuttered out, feeling stupid that I couldn’t speak properly.

Nate gave me a concerned look but I shook my head and gave him a thumbs up. Eventually Liam was done sketching and was all set up. I confirmed that I liked the sketch and thought I was ready to go.

“Want me to hold your hand babe? It’ll hurt a little bit.” Nate asked.

I shook my head no. I wanted to seem strong. I wanted to prove I could handle this. Liam had me lay down in the chair. My stomach was twisted in knots, not the good kind either. The second I heard the needle turn on I lost it. I jumped out of the chair crying. When I realized all eyes were on me, and saw the confused look on Nate’s face, I ran out of the shop crying.

It wasn’t even a minute before Nate was behind me, with his arms wrapped around me asking what was wrong.

“I thought I could do it Nate, I really did but, I’m so scared, I know it’s going to be so painful.” I spat out crying.

Nate rocked me back and forth. “It’s okay baby, you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to prove anything to me baby.” His words were so comforting.

“But, I want to Nate, I really do. I-I’m just afraid, that’s all.” I said to him, looking into his loving eyes.

“What if, and this is only an idea if you still want one, I get a tattoo to match yours? We can get something to represent the both of us. Like the crowns some couples get. We can both get them somewhere and then we’ll match. How does that sound?” Nate asked still holding me close.

I smiled at him, I really liked that idea. I eventually agreed to the matching tattoo idea and walked back in. I apologized to Liam.

“I totally understand, I’ve had worse happen to me honestly.” he said reassuringly.

Nate told him about the matching tattoos idea and he thought that was nice. Nate went first. He got his on his shoulder area a little bit above his “Blessed” tattoo with the bird. He of course got the king crown and it looked so good on him.

It was finally my turn and I took a deep breath in. “You sure you’re ready babe?” Nate asked concerned.

I nodded and smiled. I was going to get mine in the same spot Nate did since I don’t have any tattoos. I laid down in the chair and squeezed my eyes shut. I was hoping it would go by quickly. After Liam transferred the outline I heard the needle getting turned on.

I felt Nate squeeze my hand. “Don’t worry (y/n), I’m right here with you it will all be okay. I promise.” he said, making me feel safe.

When the needle touched my skin I squeezed Nate’s hand so tight his knuckles started turning white. I felt bad and thought I might be hurting him but he kept rubbing my hand with his thumb and whispering calming things into my ear.

“Look you’re almost done baby. I’m so proud of you lil mama. This tattoo looks so beautiful on you.” Nate said to me. That statement made me smile, and it made me glad I went through with getting the tattoo.

When Liam finished with mine, he showed me and I smiled. It looked so good. I had him take a picture of mine and Nate’s tattoos together so I could post it later. Also because Nate wanted to show Sammy and the Jacks that I finally went through with it.

I was so happy I went through with getting the tattoo and ecstatic that Nate decided to get a matching tattoo. I’m glad he didn’t think it was stupid or cheesy. I felt like it was a big step in our relationship. I think it was his way of saying he wasn’t planning on ever leaving me, without saying it straight out.

We were both wearing tank tops since it was hot. So, afterwards, we decided to go get some ice-cream and walk the beach to show off our new matching masterpieces. We laughed, walked, held hands, and shared our ice-cream together while people watched. Some smiling, some glaring, but in that moment we didn’t see anyone else but each other. 

That night I got tons of comments from friends, family, and Nate’s fans about how much they loved our matching tattoos. I showed Nate and he smiled.

“I love you so much Nate, thanks for doing this with me today” I said blushing like crazy.

“Awe babe, I love you too. I wouldn’t have wanted to help anyone else with the experience. Plus, I think our matching tattoos are pretty badass.” He said smiling. I giggled when he said that. He’s such a dork.

When the night was over, we ate dinner and cuddled on the couch watching cheesy movies until we I fell asleep on his lap with his arms wrapped around me. This was definitely one of the best days ever.

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A/N: This is definitely goals af, am I right? 

I hope this is what you were looking for and I really hope you enjoyed this imagine. I loved this idea the minute you requested it because it’s something I dream about on a daily basis lol. Let me know what you think of it because I love and appreciate feedback!

Requests are always open. Send them to my ask box! Send in imagine requests, ship requests, blurb requests, written preferences, most likely to’s, or anything else your heart may desire.

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Stay Beautiful <3

- thatmixedbeauty