A/N: This has to be one of my favourite things that I’ve ever written :) Please pay attention to the dates and times! It begins in the present, and then there are a series of flashbacks. They’re all in chronological order for ease of reading, but please pay attention to the timings if you’re unsure!
With a cream envelope held between your fingers, you can’t prevent the smile from spreading across your lips. A greying memory slips into your mind, your eyes fluttering to a close as you let yourself get taken away to the land of fantasies.
Valentine’s day, two years ago, 1pm
At the sound of your name, you looked up. You were in a park, sitting on a picnic blanket. Surrounding you were hundreds of tiny daisies, scattered amongst the green grass like a sprinkling of icing sugar.
“Hmm?” You looked across the blanket to see Calum, your boyfriend, with a wide smile spread across his face.
Her heart pounds against her chest as the car inches closer towards dangerous territory. Bucky had left the house two days ago to return the car he stole from her father and send her a plane for her to take to Romania. Her new life is nearly ten miles away. She swallows hard and rubs her hands against her floral skirt. She tugs on her cardigan and puffs a strand of hair out of her face. The car stops a few minutes later and she glances out the window. The first thing she notes is that the gate is too intimidating to climb over. It’s dangerously sharp at the ends and pokes at anyone who dares to attempt to enter the castle grounds. The seconds thing she notes is that the area surrounding the Palace is ginormous. There’s acres and acres of land and it’s beautiful against the orange sun setting in the horizon. The sky is painted with a beautiful sea of lavender, indigo, and fuchsia. She makes a mental note for Bucky to take her on top of the largest hill in the grounds and have an uninterrupted date.
“Nobody can tell me where I can and can’t go.” - Kanye West (Libra IC/Aries MC)
Growing up as a Libra IC is trying to keep your surroundings at balance. Libra IC’s grow up craving harmony and peace in their home environment, but often times do not receive it. The Libra IC, as a child, was very introverted and emotionally delicate. In most cases, they excelled academically in school and this is because they could have spent a lot of time with their nose in a book.
As a Libra IC, you grew up experiencing up and down waves at home. When things were good, they were great. When things were bad, they were terrible.
The Libra IC could have internally gotten frustrated when things were unfair at home and some could have thrown tantrums due to this injustice. They seem peaceful and quiet, in which they definitely are, but inside they are a mess if their surroundings aren’t beautiful or peaceful. The Libra IC child possesses much creativity and charm. They often times would cling to what they owned because they felt it was uniquely representative of them.
You may have resorted to finding beauty within yourself and finding your purpose in life.
Libra IC as children desperately want to find their own place in the world that is only about them. Since they are so mild-tempered and fair, they have trouble speaking up for themselves in order to avoid any conflicts or arguments. But as the Libra IC grows older, the more they start to assert themselves and lead others instead of follow.
You grow so much as an individual and everyone takes notice. You do not cower in the back, you find your moment to stand out and attack. You are the equivalent of a red rose with prickly thorns. You are beauty with a touch of savage. Everywhere you go, you make sure to project your personality fiercely, yet no one would have expected you to.
And then, Libra IC, is when you shoot up to your Aries Midheaven.
The fact that Feyre and Tamlin’s love resembles a rose says many things about their relationship.
A rose is typically the flower to resemble love on Valentine’s day, a gift to your significant other, etc.
In ACOTAR, Feyre and Tamlin’s love was passionate and deep. They loved each other
— think of it like a rose blooming. When in full bloom, they are truly in love and would go to the ends of the earth to find each other again. Lustful, faithful, imaginative.
But a rose has thorns, does it not?
Tamlin said he loves Feyre, thorns and all. I think the thorns resemble the dangers of love. Note that Rhys once said love can be a poison as well.
The thorns show the dangers and unhealthiness of loving someone too much. It shows that when you do love someone too much, too much that it can become a sickness, the thorns are what suffocate you. The rose may be blooming endlessly but the thorns are stabbing you constantly. Telling you, this is wrong, this isn’t right, this is an overdose of something not right.
Here is research to back up what I said:
A proverb is a short and wise saying that expresses a basic truth about life or mankind. “Every rose has its thorn” is a famous proverb generally used to teach an important fact about human nature-nobody is perfect. Even the rose, beautiful and enticing, is not without its flaws; the prickly thorns of the rose can poke and pierce the flesh. In fact, there is a type of plant in the Rose family, Hawthorn, whose thorns are toxic to the eye, and scratching of the cornea with it often leads to loss of vision. Even something as beautiful as a rose has its flaws.
Alternatively, “Every rose has its thorn” can be understood to speak of life situations, teaching the valuable life lesson that even the best situations have their down-sides. It follows, therefore, that even the bad situations have their positive sides.
(Y/N) isn’t always this daring… or destructive. Back then she was a bubbly, energetic, overall happy person. That’s what (S/O) remembered her to be back in fourth grade. She often wears printed pastel shirts with matching baggy pants, her shoes were often dirty because she always spends her time running and jumping on high places. (Y/N) had the loudest voice in the room and was often called in detention for talking too loud or too fast.
How about some kid grumps Brian and Barry bonding???? (Maybe some angst in there???)
The sunlight was wearing thin, but the kids were still running around outside. At some point during the day, Barry had gone missing. None of the others wanted to admit that they hadn’t noticed, but it was just so easy to do. Barry never talked. Hell, the only one who rivaled him with his lack of communication was Brian, and that’s only because it’s pretty hard for him to talk with the ninja mask on.
But that’s why Brian knew Barry the best, and knew exactly where to find him. The prickly rose bush by the front driveway had a little Barry-shaped indent in the back of it, perfect for hiding when Barry wanted to be alone. And that’s where Brian found him, his knees pulled up to his chest and tears streaming down his face.
Brian sat down across from him, making sure not to crowd the little one or box him in. He pulled the mask up so that it wouldn’t cover his face. “You wanna talk about it?”
Barry shook his head, just as Brian suspected. Instead, Barry decided it best to just crawl into Brian’s lap and wrap his arms around the other boy, cheek smushed against Brian’s chest. It was a little awkward at first, while Barry tried to get himself comfortable, but soon the two were sitting wrapped around each other in silence, until Barry managed to fall asleep.
So basically this heartbreaking meta smashed into my Klance shipper heart along with all of the anxiety about what’s going to happen to Shiro and all the angsty Galra!Keith theories and suddenly fic happened. There is a lot more of this that I will be posting but it got waaaaay out of hand from the one-shot it was supposed to be, so have the first chapter for now. ( @strixmoonwing I used your Blue Lion theory for a fic, I hope you don’t mind)
Warnings: violence, gore, Major Character Death, and a whole lotta angst
It takes a decade to tear out the heart of the Galra Empire. With Zarkon defeated, the universe is safe and peaceful once again, and Pidge is free to return home. But those ten years have not passed without change and sacrifice. What happened to the five young Paladins that left Earth so long ago?
Part 1: Lance
When the planet came into sight, Pidge burst into tears.
The patterns of green and blue were achingly familiar. Clouds swirled across the surface in what Pidge thought was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen. The moon hung in space beside it, silver and placid. City lights twinkled in the dark.
She hadn’t set foot on Earth in over ten years.
She heard footsteps behind her and scrubbed rapidly at her leaky eyes. She was a grown woman, the sometime Green Paladin of Voltron, Defender of the Universe, Vanquisher of Rido, the Savior of Keinsh, the Hand that Slew the Galra, and she didn’t cry. Even if it was just in front of her brother.
Fay; as bright as the sun. Wears skater skirts with converse. A bit of a tomboy. Craves Carmel apples often. Would most likely go to Brazil or Canada than Turkey. Small purses, light makeup, milkshakes. Secretly has a teddy bear. Blasts music throughout her home. Listens to Beyoncé sometimes. Knot’s Berry Farm is her most preferred theme park. Can’t decide between Waffles or Pancakes. Thinks baby pigs are the cutest things in the world including pandas. Hates prickly roses. Goes to the beach late at night. Frozen yogurt over ice cream. More of a doer. Conspiracy thinker.
Daydreamer. Likes dark, bold colors. Sweet tooth. More of a fighter than a lover. Flight or fight? Fight. Still watches SpongeBob Squarepants. One who desires the best of life.
Sorry this is so late in the day, my garden is swaaaamped with weeds and I spent all day outside! Thanks to @visardistofelphame for the suggestion (who I didn’t realize followed me, I’m so flattered!)–but this is my last topic lined up! Please inbox me with more thoughts, or face the utter banality of my own ideas.
Scientific name:Rosa sp. There are several wild roses that can be found across the the US (palustris, virginiana, woodsii and blanda are just a few I’m aware of), so poke around online to see what’s in your area.
Common names: Wild rose, prairie rose, pasture rose, prickly rose, dog rose, swamp rose, briar rose, sweetbriar
Appearance: Forget about your whorled Valentine’s roses: wild roses generally have five petals, and don’t appear blood red–white, pink or magenta, are much more likely, with yellow centers that remind me of anemone. Foliage tends to be dark green, leaves alternating and serrated, stalks red, brown or green with or without thorns (though usually with). Size varies depending on species. After flowering, plants produce red/orange/brown fruits known as rosehips, pictured above. Rosehips may be round or ovulate, and tend to last into the winter even after leaves fall.
Range: At least one species of wild rose is native or naturalized to every state and province in the US, Canada, and northern Mexico except, I believe, Hawaii. Asia, Europe and Africa have their own families of native roses, but I confess to know nothing about them.
Historical and medicinal uses: When I was little, I read that Nez Pierce natives placed roses in their houses or clothes to protect the living from ghosts, which I thought was romantic. I haven’t seen great historical receipts for that, but I thought I’d mention it. Aside from that… well, it would be hard to make a list. In my ethnobotany texts, the sections on wild roses are vastly long–a huge number of native groups all over the Americas consumed the petals and hips in various permutations to treat dozens of conditions.
I don’t mean to generalize in the sense of “all Native Americans did these things and also they are all the same people” because that’s not at all true, but for brevity’s sake I’ll just list some common uses: diarrhea, immune issues, anti-inflammatory, astringent, diuretic, antibiotic, sore throats, eye infections and heart issues.
So, roses are the real deal, and supported by modern science: they’re chock full of vitamins, minerals and antioxidants, in all parts of the plant (though more concentrated in the hips). They were common both as an ingredient and a flavor in early American druggist concoctions, and remain a popular supplement with many today.
Associations and Potential Uses: I like to take inspiration of how a plant can influence the body to help understand how it could effect the spirit, which makes wild roses both a real mutitasker and kind of an enigma–like how I rarely use rosemary, I’m generally a little put off by herbs that claim to be good for anything and everything. Jack of all trades, and all. As a result, I’ve limited their use in my practice to two areas: love, because of their long-standing associations, and hedgework as it’s how the plant presents itself to me. As always, your mileage may vary, and you might find them useful in other arenas.
As in the body, where wild roses can really shine is matters of the heart–as you’ve probably noticed, rose petals and buds are ingredients in pretty much all love spells. Generally, though, those come from manicured, delicate ornamental species–I find wild roses have a little more kick and a little less direction in these kinds of works. Wild plants generally do. Use care in your wording and other spell ingredients if specificity is important to you.
Wild rose briars are also a sort of wild hedge, and I find roses lend themselves to hedgework as well. I weave the thorn-stripped stems into bracelets or anklets to wear when I cross if I’m expecting something difficult or going somewhere new, and use the thorns themselves in protective work related to spirits and hedgecrossing.
Yeah I was re-watching episode 18, Double Date, AKA my favourite episode and I was inspired to write this. Because I actually really like Prickly Rose(It may or may not be my OTP) and I’ve had this idea for so long. And I still need to finish my research paper.
“I need you to make triple chunk brownie that’s due like yesterday.” Brandi said entering the kitchen where her chef was writing down the menu plan for tomorrow.
“Why do you need a triple chunk brownie Miss Silver?” Her chef asked. He was distinguished looking gentleman from the Breton coast of France.
“It’s for my boyfriend. Don’t you remember him? Red and black hair, tattoo? Has the long neck?” Brandi said.
“Ah yes, Mr. Lee Ping.” Her chef replied looking back down to his menu planner.
“It’s Leaping. And he likes triple chunk brownies.”
“Would you like me to prepare some tiramisu as well for you tomorrow?”
Brandi looked at her chef. She did have a diet plan that she needed to stick to but she had for just one brief moment an image of her and Lee eating dessert together after they take down the Human Fridge. The image was so painfully cheesy and too much teen magazine for even a Glamazon like her. Lee wouldn’t casually dip his finger into tiramisu and place it on her nose nor would she take a piece of one of the giant chocolate chunks she knew her chef would insert and throw it at him.
“Make it as low-calorie as you can. My hips are already getting too wide.” And with that Brandi Silver walked away because she wasn’t going to be the type of girl that dwell on things she knew weren’t going to happen.
“I don’t remember home,” Beleren said quietly, unbidden.
“You talked about growing up in Ravnica. A lot of my memories from my childhood are gone. Chopped up in my head into a few impressions. Most of what I remember begins here, on Ravnica. I’ll never have roots here the way you do, and I admit I’m off to other planes a lot. But I think of myself as Ravnican to the core, too.”
A prickly, dense emotion rose in Ral, and he squeezed his lips together to keep it from spilling over. “Damn it, Jace, it’s not the same,” he said. He turned back to his vigil of the opposite alleyway, but he put a hand on Beleren’s wrist and squeezed.
“That’s the first time you’ve called me anything but ‘Beleren.’”
Dude I totally love this recently popular tattoo artist!Bilbo and florist!Thorin, but I can’t help but still be enchanted with the reverse. With little florist!Bilbo who nurtures his flowers and knows the meaning of each and every one of them like the hobbit at heart that he truly is. Who storms into the tattoo parlor next door full of righteous fury at the proprietors who play their music far too loud for the delicate constitution of his orchids. Who finds himself greeted by a frightening handsome, six foot two wall of muscle and tattoos but holds his ground anyway. Who discovers that the above-stated wall of a human being may be as prickly as rose stems on the outside but is also filled with fluff and rainbows and all the nice, soft comforts of home which is not at all what Bilbo had originally expected and he is therefore not prepared for the way it makes his own insides flutter and flit and generally twist around uncomfortably underneath his skin…