look of the day for a week

3

TID APPRECIATION WEEK (day 1, favorite character)

He had the most beautiful face she had ever seen. Tangled black hair and eyes like blue glass. Elegant cheekbones, a full mouth, and long, thick lashes. Even the curve of his throat was perfect. He looked like every fictional hero she’d ever conjured up in her head.

anonymous asked:

For April fools day this year I've organised for the orchestra to break out into 'All Star' when our conductor starts. We've had a secret rehearsal after school twice this week and have one more on the day before. I'm so excited - he's going to kill us, but I'm sure he'll also love us (he's a massive meme - we literally have a musical meme board in our rehearsal room) I cannot wait to see the look on his face. I'll let you know how it turns out :)

jesus christ

2

Happy Fëanorian Week! Day 7

Day 7 – Nerdanel & Fëanor → Marriage

OMG LAST DAY WHAT

Fëanor’s circlet looks hella awkward but I’m too tired to fix it ;-;

UPDATE: Went back and fixed a couple minor things

Normally I don’t mind the kids (and occasional hellspawn) at my job at the warehouse of designer shoes/shoe hell (kids at my other job are a whole different matter… so many temper tantrums. in a library. in the sole quiet area in the whole building.) but… lately they’ve been so freaking cute. Like, a few weeks ago I died my hair blue (yay for an updated dress code!) and all of the little kids are just fascinated by it. I’ve stopped a few kids from crying because they couldn’t stop looking at me!

I’ve also been wearing a walking boot the last few days because of a sprain and one little girl was so worried about me. When I told her that I was only hurt a little, she was so relieved! I hate being on the register, but she (almost) made it worth it that day.

(another blue hair story - I had told a customer that I’m going to Disneyland soon, and she told me I’d be a good cast member there! I didn’t have the heart to tell her that no matter how happy of a person I seem, Disney wouldn’t let me have blue hair lol)

Tama’s Tea Shop is a cute little place. Warm colors, nice smells, welcoming staff. To the average customer, it looks as sweet as their cinnamon-rose blend. But under the soft surface is a finely-tuned machine run with military efficiency.

At six every morning, the Iron Bull opens the blinds, dusts everything, and gets ready for the day. At six-fifteen, Tama comes in and dusts everything again, then brews them a pot of something sweet. (Bull likes sweet, floral teas best, even if she doesn’t.)

Krem works there too, and opens a couple days a week so Bull can have a day off. Tama never takes a day off except for Qun holidays, on which the shop is closed.

Cassandra is a regular. She loves the quiet atmosphere and how none of her relatives or colleagues would think to look for her here. Common is Tama’s seventh language– they read racy romance novels aloud to each other so Tama can practice speaking it.

Bull tells terrible puns. His favorite is “tea you later” but he’s also fond of “our prices aren’t too steep” and telling little kids that his favorite dinosaur is a tea-rex.

Tama rejected the idea of a shop cat– it would shed everywhere and some customers might be allergic. They have an iguana instead, in a large tank that takes up the entire wall behind the register. His name is Toad.

Cassandra brings Dorian to the shop, on Tama’s instruction. She wants to learn ancient Tevene and Cassandra can’t think of anyone else who might know the language. He takes his payment in cups of tea, because he can’t possibly recreate Tama’s perfection. He insists on buying the blends he takes home, but this doesn’t stop him from flirting outrageously for a discount. It works on Bull, but not Tama.

He complains about it once. Tama raises her eyebrows at him and says, with the solemnity of a person choosing the perfect words in their seventh language, “that is because Ashkaari is a thirsty bitch.”

Cole doesn’t work there, but sometimes he wanders in and hands people blends that they’ve never tried before, but are somehow perfect. Varric wants to write a book about Tama’s life but she keeps telling him conflicting stories. He’s never been this frustrated, or this in love. Josephine comes by three times a week buys one of their largest containers of tea– as long as it’s decaf. Tama worries. Vivienne comes in every Monday evening to buy seven bags of dark breakfast tea. No one can convince her to buy larger quantities or different blends. Tama worries about her too.

Sera thinks that all tea is basically the same, and she’ll just buy whatever’s on clearance. Sometimes Tama puts a single box of her special blend on the clearance table right before Sera comes in. Bull doesn’t know how she can always tell, but Tama seems to know the secrets of Sera’s schedule. Sometimes she gives Sera one of the cookies Sten brought over earlier as well.

Sten’s bakery is next door. They trade tea and cookies often, though Tama thought he was a little odd at first. But if her Askaari like the sweet little cookies he makes, then that’s all right. He can stay. He stays open too late though– Tama closes her doors at four, when everyone who’s sensible has done ther shopping. She doesn’t sell tea to people who aren’t sensible. (Except for Dorian, but he’s a special case.)

Love you too~

Well, well, well, look who is trying their hand at Chloenette. Tbh this is really short, silly and stupid and they are probably OOC, so fml. I’m a bit rusty with writing, after two weeks of almost no writing at all. But I couldn’t get the idea out of my head.


“I need to take you shopping.”

Marinette looked up from her sketch. She and Chloé were paired off for a school project and they were supposed to work. But between the way too warm day outside and fruit tarts Marinette’s parents brought up, well, working on the project. They were both sharing Marinette’s chaise lounge. Marinette was on her stomach, working on some designs in her sketchbook, while Chloé was on her back using the papers for the project as an improvised fan while scrolling through her instagram. She was, until she got distracted, that’s it.

“What’s wrong with my clothes now?” Marinette said with a fond eye roll. Chloé had a thing for criticizing the most ridiculous things about her clothes, like how the rips in her jeans were too messy or something along those lines.

“Your back pockets are uneven.” Chloé stated.

Marinette put her pencil down and turned towards her. “You surely spent a lot of time staring at my ass to reach that conclusion.”

Her lips curled in a smirk as Chloé huffed and turned her head. “I didn’t stare at your ass at all.”

“Denial doesn’t suit you. Also, nice shade. Are you trying to out red a strawberry?”

“I’m not red!” Chloé crossed her arms, obviously annoyed Marinette realized she had been, in fact, starring at her glorious ass the whole time.

Marinette snorted. And then, a little idea bloomed in the corner of her mind. Propping herself on her elbows, Marinette called. “Hey, Chloé.”

Chloé turned around, only to be welcomed by Marinette’s lips on hers. Marinette had never been a sloppy kisser, but this one was pretty messy. Chloé didn’t even had time to respond properly, before Marinette pulled back. The little shit was smirking too, but Chloé was a little bit too caught up between the surprise and the fact that honestly, that shade just didn’t look good on Marinette.

“Hey, Chloé.” she called again, but this time in a lower voice.

“Huh?”

Marinette’s smirked smugly. “Your lipstick is smudged.” she run her thumb across Chloé’s bottom lip to make a point.

Chloé pouted, crossing her arms again. “I hate you.”

“I love you too.” Marinette winked at her, before returning to her sketches.

2

Gif source:  Connor

Imagine Rhodes comforting you after one of your patients die and you had had a hard week at the hospital.

——— Request for anon ———

He found you in the break room, staring down at the coffee in your mug that had the hospital’s name plastered across its side. Your coffee had grown cold by now with how lost in thought you’d been as you replayed the day and what you could have done differently for it not to have come to this end. Rhodes knew that look. It was the look he’d seen on many a doctor when faced with a hard loss in a day. Usually, he’d turn back around and leave them to their own thoughts.

But on you it stirred something different in him, somehow, and he moved further towards the couch you sat on, calling out your name gently, “Do you want some more coffee?”

“Huh?” you begin, broken from your thoughts as you look up to find Connor staring down at you with a concerned look.

“More coffee? Yours is cold,” he nods to your cup. You send him a ghost of a nod before he takes the room-temperature mug from your hands, fingers brushing lightly. He pours you both a fresh cup in silence, before coming back to the couch and handing you yours as he sat beside you. He takes a sip and then speaks, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Six Weeks

Trixie has an afternoon at the clinic that she’s unlikely to forget.

I hope you like this

Keep reading

4

Bias/Selfie tag!

i was tagged a week ago by @iloveyu-ta & @mochamark, my lovely mutuals hehe

as you can tell this was taken on the same day today and it’s because i hardly ever take selfies so i specially took them for this tag since i went out hehe. i almost cracked my neck trying to get that mark selfie angle which explains why my hand was there supporting, i look so bad beside this perfection omg

y'all don’t have to this if you don’t want to but i tag: @nctreacting @jenowhat @fairyprincerenjun @dreamteamnoona @marksvocals @grandpa-ty @theangelthatcantfly @thirsty-for-jae + anyone who wants to do this!

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Despite half hoping my alarm didn’t go off this morning and I’d sleep through my race, I am so happy I went. I mean that medal alone was worth it LMAO. It definitely wasn’t my best run, but it wasn’t my worst either. It felt good. I feel good. I feel happy. I need to remember this feeling when I don’t want to work out.

And look at that scenery. Got to love a good run. Church and meal prep the rest of the day. And I have the baby all to my self while the hubs drafts for fantasy baseball.

Have a great Sunday. Hopefully I’m here more this week and continue to slowly hey back at it.

So when I was just about to turn 13, I decided it would be fun to wear a nice summer dress to school. I got a lot of compliments from my friends and we had a sub that day. So I asked the sub if I could take the attendance down. She said yes and while I was walking down the hall this short sixth grader whistles at me and says “Bend over so I can see your pretty panties.” I look him dead in the eye and he runs away. I tell the office while I’m down there, and because I don’t know his name they think I’m making it up. I tell the counselor a week after when I find out his name and she asked me what I was wearing I said a summer dress, she said that it brings attention and boys do that because hey are boys.

anonymous asked:

I'd been chasing the spire in the horizon for weeks when I met a traveler doing the same from the opposite direction. Both behind and in front of me I now saw sillhouettes in the distance, unreachable towers taunting me. From the east, two days later, came a third traveler, claiming to be fully surrounded by spires that encroached upon him when he looked away. Every day since then, though I've given up the chase, I catch them moving in the corners of my eyes. Can't even see the horizon anymore.

We’ll crack their code yet

Don’t Mention It

Arthur: Molly wrung her hands in her apron, looking imploringly. “I don’t know what happened,” she fretted. “With six growing boys and a little girl…I suppose it was all eaten up before I could stop them. I’m so sorry. We’ll just borrow from next week, shall we?” They were always borrowing from next week. They couldn’t let the children go hungry. But the new job hardly paid for his tiny office space, much less a family of nine. At least they had built the house together…he didn’t know what they would have done with a mortgage or rent.

Molly: Everyday Arthur looked more and more tired. His job was killing him. Perhaps they should send the children to the muggle primary down the road. But that was just silly…Bill would be getting his letter any day now. And that would be one less mouth to feed…and if they could only make it to Percy…that would be three. Three boys gone in four years. The thought made her stomach hurt and her heart ache, but Percy was getting wonderfully clever at spells, and Bill was so talented already at breaking the little defense puzzles she set for him. And Charlie…she would miss Charlie. No one could degnome the garden faster or get the ghoul to stop banging around. Yes, it would be all right. They would manage, just as they always did. Next year would be easier…one less mouth to feed, even if Ginny and Ron were growing up.

Bill: He had thought there was a little of the pie left. He had seen it in the cold pantry before bedtime, and had snuck out in the middle of the night. He never wanted to let Mum know he was still hungry. He knew how much she worked all day to get dinner ready, and after all they grew their own garden. If he really was hungry he might as well eat carrots and apples and the like. But he didn’t want that. He wanted the pie. He froze when the stairs creaked. There was a shadow in the kitchen of a person. He could hear them shuffling around. Maybe it was Dad. Maybe he would split the pie with - but no, when he had jumped around the corner the pie plate was in the sink, only crumbs left and Percy’s stupid rat finishing those off.

Charlie: He liked to hide food in the broom shed. He loved flying, and being out of doors, and slipping food from meals to his pockets to take out to the shed was his way of ensuring the twins didn’t steal it from the larder the way they were always doing. It was funny what went missing. He knew it must be the gnomes tunneling in and stealing it, because the lock was always on the door. But his apples were always left behind - must be too heavy to carry away - but the really good things, the sweet treats and brownies, the extra few meat pasties - those were continually getting nicked. He had tried all sorts of de-gnoming spells from Mum’s favorite Lockhart books…but nothing seemed to work.

Percy: He knew that his parents were getting fed up with him. He was ten, after all. About to go to Hogwarts. He shouldn’t keep having nightmares like this. The twins were only eight, and even they were sniggering when they heard his footsteps run down the hall to bang on his parents’ door. So this time, when he saw the looming shadow of a man on the foot of his bed, he didn’t move. He waited to feel the weight of him come forward. But the looming shadow seemed to be moving away. Percy watched, wide-eyed as his bedroom door swung slowly, creakily, open. He couldn’t stand it anymore. He lunged for the lamp with a muttered lumos! But when he held the lamp out there was no one in the doorway. Of course not. Just his stupid rat he had picked up out of their backyard when he was six. Scabbers, he had called him. After his scabby appearance and his inflamed foot missing a toe. He was getting too old for pet rats really. Much the same as nightmares. The next day he dropped Scabbers at Ron’s plate at breakfast. Ron was five and beaming at the gift. It assuaged his conscious. And in the next few weeks, he could hear his parents’ hopeful mutters that he had outgrown his nightmare phase.

Twins: Scabbers was always getting in the way of their better pranks. Always nibbling on the dishes they had been planning to pilfer; always next to sweets and gum wrappers their father had brought home for the lot as a treat. They never know who got to the treats first, but it was never them, no matter how hard they tried. They even tried to catch a cat - a little silver thing they locked in their room - but it howled and hissed so badly the first night, clawing at the doors and knocking over the shelves in a mad frenzy to get out and chase something, that their mother came and found it and gave them a telling off. The cat was gone in a flash; they never saw her again.

Ron: He was very fond of Scabbers. He was an amazing rat, really, aside from the fact that he was always getting into the strangest of places, far beyond the heights Ron could reach. Scabbers was always found on top of sweets that Ron was eager to snatch; found in the sugar bowl and in the cornflakes. Scabbers was good at finding things, and when Ron was a kid he tried to teach Scabbers to do tricks through hoops, dreaming of winning prizes. But Scabbers never did anything he didn’t want to, and no amount of carrots in the world could tempt him. Ron had given up on his dream with the sort of sighed fondness for his fat and lazy rat. He grew fatter all the time, though he rarely touched the pellets in his cage. Ron had kept the same bag of rat food for years, but he never mentioned it to his parents. Money was always tight, and if Scabbers was happier eating dandelions outside in the grass, one more thing he was doing to make Ron happier.

Ginny: Ron would never let her play with his rat, just like her older brothers would never let her play with her brooms. She never had a pet, and regarded Ron jealously on the lawn when he would tell her bossily to “go away, Ginny” whenever she approached him to play. Her childhood was a mix of loneliness and pity play. Bill was the best; he was the oldest and so he understood the most. But he also made her feel self-conscious about playing. Bill was always cool. Always too good for the games of make believe fairies or being a queen for the day. The twins were always good for an adventure - a dunking in the brook and pretending to be mermaids. Charlie loved playing princess and the dragon; he was always the dragon, and his fire was always tickling fingers. Percy wanted to teach her to play wizard’s chess or gobstones, marbles or jacks. Things that she might use if she ever met anyone else her age. It was only Ron who really hated her, probably due to being so close in age. And so she never felt the lack of food or the closeness of a pet; the mouths and the rat went away to Hogwarts long before she did. She just wanted a companion. Someone who would listen to her and validate her. More than a diary…more like…

Peter Pettigrew had the look of someone who has lost a lot of weight in short period of time.

What if the Weasleys were poorer than they could afford to be because they had an extra, greedy mouth to feed?