spiral curl

the signs as fairies

Aries: adorns herself in red silk with shimmering wings the color of fire. can be found in environments with fire or heat, like volcanoes. is immune to the heat. can manipulate and create fire and spends her days playing with phoenixes and friends she creates out of burning embers. usually has swirling gold tattoos.

Taurus: a gentle fairy who can be found in forests. she spends her time playing with forest animals and making flower chains. she wears clothes made out of pieces of cloth she finds and always has some type of flower in her hair. her wings are soft as a feather, translucent and give off a golden glow. she can talk to animals, and she attracts them wherever she goes.

Gemini: the ultimate trickster. very petite, with razor sharp blue wings. she almost always wears a hat that covers her dark tresses. she wears a short dress with high boots. she is never without her staff. covered in her trinkets, her staff is her main tool to help her practice voodoo. other fairies come to her for potions and spells, but beware, she will turn on you if it benefits her.

Cancer: can most often be found in water. everything about her is silvery blue, from her skin to her hair to her eyes. she looks like she is made of moonlight. she only comes out at night, to sing songs to the moon. her wings are made of millions of tiny water droplets, but she rarely shows them. she can craft moonlight into beautiful pieces of art.

Leo: if you ever manage to get a glimpse of this fairy, the first thing you’ll notice about her is her hair. her thick red curls spiral out everywhere. considering wings are sacred to this type of fairy, it’s no surprise that hers are extravagant. like the wings of a monarch butterfly, her wings are especially strong, even though they look especially fragile. her clothes are made out of autumn leaves she finds in the woods where she lives. she usually has leaves decorating her hair. her favorite pastime is playing with the butterflies she shares her home with.

Virgo: like Leo, this fairy has wings like a butterfly, but hers are shades of deep blue and rich green. she looks delicate, but will defend her home fiercely. she wears clothes she creates from natural materials, and will typically have flowers in her hair. she spends her days protecting her home from humans and predators alike.

Libra: this dainty fairy spends her time high in the clouds. wears clothes made of pure white feathers and clouds. though she doesn’t have wings, she has a naturally ability to control air, and uses that to her advantage. she is an amazing dancer and spends her time dancing in the clouds to beautiful music only she can hear. 

Scorpio: the rumors surrounding this fairy are plenty. with her swirling black tattoos, dark hair, and leathery, deep purple and blue wings, she intimidates most who venture into her home, which is how she likes it. skilled in the most ancient magic, she spends her days making potions for those willing to pay the price. 

Sagittarius: perhaps the most daring fairy, her favorite pastime is to give humans glimpses of her, but she never shows her face. she only comes out when the leaves are changing colors. she wears a dress spun from pure gold, with a beautiful crown made out of golden feathers. her wings look like feathers but are actually very sharp, and are also gold. her favorite trick is, once you get a glimpse of her, she hides herself among the leaves until you go mad looking for her.

Capricorn: no human has ever gotten a look at this fairy, who is always found in cold environments. cold as ice, she’s as small as the snowflakes she crafts. her crystallized wings are more beautiful than any snowflake, and she wears a dress and jewelry crafted out of pure ice. her silver hair matches the color of her eyes. 

Aquarius: one of the rarest fairies, every part of her is silver, except her fragile, translucent wings. she only comes out during a full moon and is found in quiet, moonlit forests. she wears a dress made out of silvery moonlight. her favorite accessory is a crown made out of moonflowers. 

Pisces: this fairy frequents vast meadows, looking for a flower to make her home in. she makes her beautiful dresses out of stray flower petals she finds. her huge, butterfly-like wings are as big as she is. her most prized possession is her wooden flute, which she can use to call animals to her.

based off of this post

comprehensive rating of every octopus emoji

for your reading pleasure

the ratings are off to a notably curvy and rounded start.  not sure what’s going on with those eyes, but this octopus is making up for it with a very generous squish quotient.  7/10; would pet

such zazz!  such a definitive swagger!  i am particularly endeared to that ‘raise the roof’ gesture he’s got going on with his arms.  excellent octopus.  very good indeed.  10/10; would throw a party with

ah, the full-frontal approach to octopus imagery.  that classic octopus head shape is very well-represented here.  a good, solid octopus for all your octopus needs.  8/10; would introduce to my parents

to be perfectly frank, i’m ambivalent.  there’s some unfortunate shading going on here and all i can see is a rubbery pink stick-man with a disproportionate head wearing a cape.  despite it all, i can’t bring myself to say mean things about this octopus; she has a vivacious charm to her.  3/10; would give points for effort

i’m pretty sure this isn’t what an octopus looks like.  nice try.  1/10; would maybe wear as a novelty hat in an emergency

a wonderful and pleasing octopus.  htc is really shaking it up with these cool colours.  her eyes are wide with childlike wonder.  9/10; would read a bedtime story to

i cannot say a single bad thing about this octopus.  he is anatomically correct and possesses a lightness of spirit; an inexorable zest for life.  a swell guy and a fantastic cephalopod. 12/10; would leave him all my worldly possessions and wisdom in the event of my death, whenever that day shall fall

the manic pixie dream girl of the octopus emojis.  the many curls and spirals of her arms hold within themselves undeniable cosmic truths and wise tidbits of advice.  points earned for those delightful purple shades.  10/10; would go on a life-changing roadtrip with

twitter has gone for a unique twist in taking the cirrate octopod approach to octopus imagery- a roaring success in octopuses such as the dumbo and the flapjack- but have fallen short.  where are his little ears?  he needs those little ears.  give him the ears.  6/10; would fashion him a pair of little ears to wear

heavens to betsy!  what happened to his arm? why is it so long?  the poor baby looks so bewildered.  2/10; would subject mozilla to a brutal interrogation as to avenge this poor boy’s honour

remarkably angular for an octopus.  it’s lacking that important element of squish.  has a lovely, albeit biologically impossible, winning smile though.  5/10; would not criticise to their face

this is a shiny one.  on a closer look, her skin glistens with visions of half-remembered dreams.  her beguiling eyes and exuberant mouth-thing are only there for a false sense of security.  a very mysterious octopus.  where is she from?  8/10; would see in glimpses on the backs of my eyelids whenever i blink

Beauty and the Lawyer

* John Laurens x Reader
* Modern Beauty and the Beast AU

    A/N: HERE IT IS! OK so…there’s no beast creature first of all, you’ll see the obvious change I made. This follows the new movie and CONTAINS SOME SPOILERS! If you haven’t seen the new movie then don’t read this yet as some plot points come directly from the new movie. It’s also really fucking long, so yeah. This took me about four days of writing every moment I could and listening to the movie soundtrack on repeat. (At least it’s pretty.) So I hope you guys enjoy!

    Word Count: 9,365 (barely 23 pages…)


    “You have a daughter, do you not Mr. L/N?” Henry Laurens asked the man across from him. Henry’s young son, John, sat aside merely watching the exchange.

    “Well yes. She’d be about the same age as your boy.”

    “You know, as a lawyer it’s hard to find a wife but it’s a good thing to have.” Henry mused as he stood and began circling the table, reminding his son of a hawk going in for a swooping kill.

    “What are you saying?” The other man asked.

    “I saved you in that lawsuit and I’m not even sure you were innocent.” Henry said with a soft laugh. “And now you say you can’t afford my prices. So I propose a deal. I’ll give you two years. Pay my fees, if not I’ll get the case reopened. If you haven’t raised the money, then your daughter and my son will be wed.”

    “That’s absurd!” The man shouted in outrage.

    “So was your case.” Henry snapped back. “You were warned that I have high prices. This is the fee.” Henry stopped at his side of the desk. “Go. You have two years.” The two men watched the other man go.

    “Why are you arranging a marriage?” John asked.

    “You know I’m not feeling well. This will be your firm soon. A wife makes a lawyer look more personable. And it’s hard to find one in this line of work.” Henry patted his son’s shoulder. “Come on, I have much more to teach you.”

    Two staffers, Alexander and Lafayette, stood by. “Monsieur Laurens is corrupting his young son. The John we used to know is slipping away.” Lafayette voiced.

    “You wanna stand up to Henry?” Alexander asked. He knew Lafayette was right. John was their friend at one point. It didn’t seem much that way anymore.

    “No, no one does. That’s the problem.”

    You walked through town. Your father would be back from meeting with the lawyer today and you wanted to make him a good dinner. There was a fresh marketplace and you knew your father preferred food from there. It was a bit more expensive but always tasted better. And definitely worth it to welcome your father home.

    Keep reading

    Watch on ryanshultzy.tumblr.com
    William Nylander - Part 3

    Tumblr won’t let me add a picture and I’m kinda pissed…. JK fixed it 

    I wake in the morning feeling like train wreck. When I stumble into the bathroom I’m surprised to see that I can see out of both of my eyes, though one is completely black and purple. The swelling has seemed to go down quite a bit from when I went to bed and I breathe a sigh of relief. Not that I have anyone to look good for, but I don’t exactly want to be scared to look in the mirror every day.

                   Letting the hot water from my shower wash off the remaining dried blood and I’ll admit, a few tears from last night. Nathan had been all over me like a mother hen, insisting that he stay the night in case something happened and when I in turn asked him what he thought could possibly happen he couldn’t think of a scenario. So Rian has shooed both him and Jake off before they could even walk inside the front door. She had been able to convince me to stay at my parent’s house with her, saying that she wanted to keep an eye on me but I really knew it was because she didn’t like staying in the house on her own. Our parents weren’t due to come home from their anniversary cruise until next week Monday and it was only Wednesday.

                   I dress myself, careful when I pull my shirt on to not rip my stitches and make my way downstairs. Rian is already up and about to go out the door to head to school.

                   “I was going to wake you, but thought better,” she says and eyes my face. “Balance the black on your other eye and you could make a good living as a hooker.” She smirks at me.

                   I throw her a filthy look. “Don’t you have to be somewhere?” I huff back at her, making my way into the kitchen.

                   “Yes, actually. But I wanted to see your face when I tell you this,” she says following after me and I frown at her.

                   “Tell me what?” I ask slowly.

                   “That you’re an internet meme now,” she looks overly happy and I tense.

                   “What?” I ask, my voice much louder than I intended.

                   “Someone at the game took a picture of the jumbrotron and you giving a thumbs up with a mangled face. Now people are posting those pictures with the clinche caption of how tough hockey fans are and all that,” she rolls her eyes and I relax.

                   “Oh, then that’s not so bad,” I say and dig through the cupboards for something to eat.

                   “You also might want to check your phone,” Rian adds, a devilish grin on her face when I turn to look at her. “See you later,” she says and skips out the door.

                   I stare after her a moment and then make a mad dash to my coat hanging in the hallway where my phone is still resting. Swiping the screen on my stomach drops, there’s over five hundred notifications from all my social media apps and text messages.

                   “How can people possibly know who I am? I got hit in the face with a puck!” I yell out loud into the empty house. Groaning, I start going through the follow requests and mentions, getting annoyed after thirty seconds and just changing my settings to that anyone can follow me instead. That takes away over three hundred of the notifications.

                   Scrolling through the messages I ignore most of them from people I haven’t talked to in months. Both Jake and Nathan texted me this morning asking how I feel and I respond to them and them only. None of my friends that don’t watch hockey haven’t said a single thing to me so I know that it’s not as big a deal as Rian made it sound like.

                   I mute my phone and get set on my bowl of cereal and think about what I’m going to do today. Working as an editor for a publishing company, I’m able to work from home most days and today will be no different. Cleaning up after myself I get my car keys and head back to my apartment downtown. I keep my hat down low on my head when I sneak into my favorite coffee shop and no one gives me a second glance. I hurry across the street to my apartment and breathe a sigh of relief when I get into the elevator.

                   Kota is waiting for me at the door, meowing like she’s been starved to death. I fill her bowl that wasn’t even empty while she preys on my foot, thinking she’s the almighty queen of the apartment. I force myself to walk into my home office, the stack of manuscripts on my desk is intimidating and I grimace as I sit down and pull on my glasses carefully. Before the headache can even have a chance to start, I reach into the desk drawer and down a few pain meds. Always good to be prepared.

                   Four hours later a ding on my phone nearly makes me fall out of my seat. I place the highlighter and pen on to the desk beside the thriller manuscript I had been pouring over all morning, yellow and red marks all over the sheet glare up at me. Picking up my phone I see a message from Rian.

                   Half day today. Ready for pizza?

                   I glance at the clock and cringe at the time.

                   Give me fifteen minutes

                   Another manuscript get the better of you?


                   See you in a few


                   I scramble from my chair, Kota startles and sprints across the room sending toys and papers alike scattering across the floor. Giggling, I make my way into my room and strip down from my comfy clothes and into something that makes me look a little less homeless. I catch a glance of myself in the mirror and groan.

    Having forgotten the black eye and angry red stitches, I reach for another ball cap and pull the bill down as far as I can. It doesn’t help much but I don’t dare to even try and put makeup over it. Maybe we can get a table in the back corner.

                   I meet Rian in the parking lot and to my dismay the place looks packed.

                   “Why are there so many people here? Don’t they have jobs?” I grumble and Rian laughs.

                   “You have a job and you’re here,” she smirks at me, her eyes traveling to my bruised cheek. “Not gonna lie, you look pretty badass in your whole ensemble.” She gestures with her hands to the rest of my outfit and I realize that I put on all black, even my coat. “I’m loving the whole dark energy thing.”

                   I roll my eyes at her and push her through the front door. While there are a lot of cars in the parking lot, there are still several empty tables and I’m grateful when the hostess leads us to one in a secluded corner. I pick up the menu although I don’t know why, I get the same thing every time I’m here. Rian does the same thing and we laugh at each other.

                   “Remember when dad used to take us here when mom would go out of town. Literally every night she was gone this was our dinner,” she smiles down at her menu, tracing the restaurants logo that sits in the top right corner.  

                   “Yeah, I do,” I smile as the memories as well. “Carson and Logan annoying us to death with their spit ball wars.”

                   “I miss them, I hate that their camp is two weeks long. When I went it was only a week,” she pouts and I have to laugh.

                   “I thought the same thing when you went, they will be back soon. And then you’ll be calling me begging to come over so you can get away from the twelve year old devils,” I say and she nods.

                   “True, but I still miss them. The house feels so empty without them and mom and dad gone. I might go insane before Monday,” she replies, tracing her finger along the condensation on her glass of lemonade.

                   “See, when I was home alone like you, I loved it. No one to annoy me or take my things without asking.” Rian scowls at me for that one. “It was nice, but I loved it even more when you all came home,” I add and wink at her, she softens her scowl.

                   “I guess that’s the difference between you and I. You’re Miss. Independent and I’m the exact opposite. I don’t think I could live alone like you do, work at home like you do… I wouldn’t be able to function.”

                   “I have Kota,” I argue and she gives me a look. “Hey! She’s a person too, just because she can’t talk doesn’t mean she doesn’t have feelings.”

                   “Oh my God, my sister is already a crazy cat lady,” Rian says, rubbing her face with her hands and I roll my eyes. Her eyes dart to the side of me and widen slightly.

                   “What are you looking at?” I ask her, preparing to turn around when she shakes her head.

                   “Nothing, thought for a moment I left my straightener on at home,” she says, busying herself with her lemonade.

                   I eye her blonde locks, perfect spiral curls going every direction. “Funny your straightener would be on when you wouldn’t have used it.” I quirk an eyebrow at her as her cheeks flush. Lucky for her, the waitress arrives again to take our order.

                   After the waitress leaves I forget about the straightener and excuse myself to the bathroom. I keep my head low as I pass by the booths and tables, both when I head towards the bathroom and when I’m returning. I glance up to make sure I’m in the right line of booths when I notice that Rian traded seats with me.

                   “What are you doing?” I ask her, pausing at the side of the table and eyeing her.

                   “I wanted to watch the T.V,” she says nonchalantly, sipping her beverage though she never looks at me.

                   I sit down slowly, still eyeing her. “You don’t like UFC fighting…” I say and she blushes again.

                   “Well then maybe I thought you would enjoy the view sitting there,” she whispers, a smirk playing on her lips as she glances down from the T.V for only a second.

                   “What are you talking about?” I ask and lift my eyes to gaze around, I don’t see a single T.V and the decorations are just that, decorations. It isn’t until I lower my eyes to the large table beside us do I realize what she meant. Oh God. I pull the hat down even lower and drop my eyes back to my empty plate. “Rian, switch back with me,” I plead in a whisper.

                   “Nope,” Rian responds, not bothering to look down from the T.V again. “I’m good here.”

                   “Rian, I swear to God if you don’t switch with me right now-“

                   “What? What are you going to do?”

                   I hesitate. “Cry.”

                   Rian snorts a laugh. “No you won’t, I haven’t seen you cry since we watched Marley and Me six years ago.”

                   I pout and dare to peek up at the table to my left. Big mistake. My eyes meet those blue ones again and I shiver. A smile flashes across his face before he looks back at one of his teammates.

                   “So, what did you see?” Rian asks, trying and failing to keep the smile off her face and I aim a nice kick to the shins under the table. She jerks in her seat, hitting the table with her arm and causing the whole thing to tremble. Another mistake. I can feel the eyes of the table beside us.

                   “God, I hate when you do that!” She snaps, rubbing her leg with her hand and glaring at me.

                   I give her my biggest smile and flutter my eyelashes. “Do what?” I ask.

                   Rian throws another look my way before our waitress returns with our pizza. All fighting is set aside as we devour the pizza with our eyes, still too warm to eat.

                   We each have four slices a piece and I lean back in my seat when I finally gulp down my last bite. I let out a satisfied sigh and wish nothing more than to take a nap right there.

                   I open my eyes to say something to Rian but my attention is caught once again to the other table. Will is immersed in the plate before him, shoveling food into his mouth like he hasn’t eaten in a week. A faint smile pulls at my lips I continue to watch him, he doesn’t seem to notice until an arm nudges his side and when I look over at who the arm belongs to, I meet the eyes of another player, Morgan Rielly. He nods at me before I can look away and when Will looks in my direction I flush crimson and stare at my glass. Mortified.

                   “I think I’m going to go the bathroom,” Rian says, oblivious to what just happened and I give her panicked look.

                   “What? No, don’t leave me here alone!” I whisper quickly and she looks at me like I’m crazy.

                   “You’ll be fine,” she says and slides out of her booth.

                   “Rian, no!” I say, willing her to sit back down. She gives me one last confused look and walks past me towards the other side of the restaurant where the bathrooms are. “I have no sister!” I whisper and I think I see a faint hint of a smile before she’s out of my view.

                   Turning back in my seat so I’m once again facing my empty plate, I try very hard to regulate my breathing. I can hear the faint conversation of the boys at the next table and I reach for my phone. My only distraction. I scroll for a moment until I feel the gaze to my left again. Pressing my lips together I tense, I can just barely see him to the side, my eyes still focused on the screen though I’m not reading a single thing. I see him stand slowly and say something to Morgan.

                   Oh no. Please no. Will takes a step towards me and I stop breathing. I keep my eyes down even when he reaches the side of my table, his gaze hot on my face and I know I’m the color of the cherry red booth I’m sitting on.

                   “Mind if I sit for a moment?” Will asks and I open my mouth to answer but nothing comes out. I can’t even look at him. Instead I slowly nod my head and put my phone down on the table.

                   He moves into the booth and my eyes go his hands folded in front of him on the table.

                   “How’s the head?” He asks and finally I’m able to look up.

                   “It’s okay,” I answer, searching his face for the other question that he seems to be holding back on.

                   “Good, it doesn’t look too bad,” he says, his eyes trailing up and down the side of my face.

                   “Too bad?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

                   “I didn’t mean it like that!” He says hurriedly. “I mean that I figured your eye would be pretty much swollen shut is all.” Will smiles at me and I just stare back.

                   “What are you doing here?” I ask him after a moment and he frowns. “Didn’t think pizza was exactly the meal a hockey player has the night before a game.”

                   Will’s eyes dart back and forth between mine, fumbling for an answer. “Because you said you would be here.” He says finally and I’m floored by his honesty.

                   “What?” I stammer.

                   “You asked your sister last night if you could come here today,” he says slowly and I remember the elevator ride.

                   “So… you wanted to check up on me?” I ask, raising an eyebrow and he blushes. I hate how adorable it looks.

                   “Maybe.” Is all he says and we sit in silence for another few seconds.

                   “And that was it?” I ask again, pulling my glass closer to me and trailing my fingers along the lip slowly, concentrating on the shapes instead of his face.

                   He watches for another few seconds, not looking up at me when he answers. “Maybe not.”

                   “So, what else could there possibly be?”

                   He hesitates again and fidgets slightly in his seat. I make him nervous. “I kinda wanted to make it up to you, somehow,” he finally says and I halt my finger on my glass, my eyes flashing to his.

                   “What?” I ask dumbly.

                   “What can I do to make it up to you?” He asks and his blue eyes overwhelm my own and I have no idea what to say.

                   “Tell you what,” he says after a beat. “I’ll give you my number, and when you think of something. You let me know.” Without waiting for a response, he reaches across the table and grabs my phone. When he sees that he needs a passcode to unlock it, he reaches back across for my hand. He gently slides my hand across the table, pressing my thumb to the home button and I let him. Will opens my contacts and adds his own in before sliding it back across the table to me.

                   “Hopefully you let me know sooner rather than later,” he whispers, slowly sliding out of the booth just as my sister reappears in the corner of my eye. Will smiles at her and nods before flashing his eyes back to me, winking before he turns and returns to his own table where several of his teammates are staring.

                   I blink several times and finally let out the breath I didn’t realize I had been holding. Rian sits back down across from me, pressing her lips together.

                   “So, what did I miss?” She asks after a moment and I laugh.

                   “Not much.”

    Love Endless...Other Sequel

    Title: Love Endless (Trail To Transcendence)

    Author: wubwubnparmaham

    Rating: E

    Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, minor character death, elements of non-con, psychological torture, claustrophobia-inducing scenes, aspects of horror, etc…


    Martin turned his face back to the close-countered twins and couldn’t help his awe; disregarding their differing outfits, their striking resemblance made them seem like an exact reflection. Both covered in blood and stood at the same height, their curls spiraled in the same places, their eyes a vigorous green, lips red as cherries—it made Martin cringe to see them side by side like that. How mysterious of the mistress of life to construct two so very different individuals with identical features.

    Auron was quite simply the evil version of the two; Hadrian was a beacon (most of the time) of justice, light, and love, and though he certainly had his moments of villainy, Auron was the pure embodiment of malice. Gazing speechlessly at the yin and yang Aelius twins wracked Martin with a horrendous taste in his mouth, and he had to look away before he got lost in their profiles.

    “I know you can hear me, baby brother,” Auron cooed, placing a gentle kiss on Hadrian’s nose and playing with his hair. “I want you to listen to this…if you make a squawk, I will do this again. Without warning—one of them will die…and the other will hate you forever. They’re mine, you’ve always been mine, and Alexander is mine too. The whole world is mine. I’ve won. You lost.”

    @windythegreat sent in : “ Prompt Witches that specialise in plants. Vines on her walls succulents hanging by window. Thank you so much for wonderful writing”

    It starts with the poinsettia Carol hands to Sydney after Christmas. The leaves are bright red and green, the plant is healthy, but there’s something sour about the pot. She thinks it might be the wetness of the soil or the way the plastic wrapped around the pot is holding water on the bottom.

    “Maybe you can use it,” Carol tells her, flapping a hand at the door. “For, you know, your…thing.”

    My craft, Sydney corrects mentally. She smiles at Carol, understanding that her friend is being considerate in her own way, and climbs into her car. She’s not a big talker and she’s fortunate that she has friends who understand that. She can deal with her practice being relegated to “thing.”

    Sydney takes the poinsettia home, takes the plastic off, and watches the water drain down the kitchen sink. She sniffs the soil and is oddly pleased. Less sour and more earthy.

    She takes the plant with her to the bedroom, situating it in her bedroom window. She falls asleep admiring the red leaves.


    After the poinsettia is the spider plant. This one is born out of necessity rather than happenstance, an intentional addition to her new home.

    There’s a story behind this.

    Keep reading

    In the Depths of the Sea- Ch.2

    Read the Previous Chapters Here or Here

    Hi all! Sorry it’s been such a long time since I’ve updated. Things have been crazy with schoolwork, but now that summer is quickly approaching, expect far more frequent updates from me! As always, massive thank you’s to my honorary moms, @mibasiamille and @internallydeceased, for listening to me co plain and attempt to write this chapter for 2+ weeks.

    Also, as a piece of shameless self-promotion, you can read more of my work, as well as that of my two pals mentioned above on our joint blog @turtlesoupstories!


    Claire’s heart dropped like a rock. For perhaps the first time in her life, she was completely and utterly speechless. She was not sure whether she wanted to laugh, cry, scream, or pummel her Uncle to the brink of death. Never, in all of the years she had been in Lamb’s care, could she have expected him to proceed so thoughtlessly. She felt betrayed, orphaned all over again, as the one person she thought that she could always count on gave her away like a piece of property.

    I thought Uncle Lamb was better than this, she thought to herself. I cannot- I will not marry Frank Randall, and there is no way he can make me.

    “I know this isn’t what you wanted-”

    “You know bloody well that this isn’t what I wanted!” Claire spat, the anger seeping into her voice.

    “If you would give me the opportunity to explain myself, Claire-” He attempted to pacify her. With spiraling curls spilling out wildly around her face and her amber eyes blazing with rage, she looked like a lioness, and Lamb found himself in the unfortunate position of the gazelle.

    “Save your explanation,” Claire retorted sharply. “There is nothing that you can say or do that will make me marry Frank Randall. I barely know the man!”

    “It will be a good match. You’re both extremely bright, and Professor Randall has taken an interest in you after speaking to you at the University Ball last month.”

    Claire could only remember the aforementioned ball in bits and pieces. She had needed to consume a copious amount of champagne in order to survive the stuffy, academic evening. She had been standing alone in the corner of the room, nursing her glass, when Professor Randall had taken the opportunity to stroll to her side. The pair stood in silence for a moment and Claire prayed to every deity she could think of that the lack of conversation would be enough to persuade Randall to leave her to her own devices. Unfortunately, it was not to be.

    Keep reading


    I just need to gush a bit more of how nice the new Japanese Degas wigs are

    For some 15 years the Degas wigs in Japan has been exceptionally short, with small spiral curls, and with quite massive curly bangs over the forehead (left side). The new ones are super long, with sleek curls, and with softer and less curls over the forehead (right side). And I absolutely LOVE the change.

    CS + teenage crimes

    Summary: Henry’s bit of teenage revelry dredges up some memories Emma could gladly do without, go thing her pirate’s there for her to lean on.

    Word Count: 1, 326

    Rating: PG

    Tags: #cs one shot  #cs future family fic  #cs angst

                Sheriff Emma Swan leaned back in her rolling desk chair with a sigh, having just spent the last few hours in her office at the sheriff’s station answering basically frivolous complaint calls, filling in paperwork, and of course, clearing up all the hassle that came along with the previous night’s prank.  She flicked her long hair back over her shoulders once more, blew out a breath of frustration, and rolled her neck experimentally, hoping to work out the crick she could already feel.  Scanning the desktop surface and fruitlessly checking her wrist where she sometimes wore one in case it was needed, she failed to find a hair tie.  She’d been trying to wear her hair down more often, not that her husband would ever tell her how to dress or style herself, but the look in Killian’s eyes the first time he’d seen her all done up for a night out with her hair falling loose down her back in long, golden spiral curls, had been worth the bit of inconvenience.  She knew that gleam in his eye well, and Emma wasn’t above admitting – at least to herself – that she enjoyed putting it there every so often.  Granted, Killian never failed to make it clear that he loved her, appreciated her, and found her beautiful every day, even after almost three years of marriage, but that gobsmacked, just swallowed his own tongue response was something else entirely.

                Eventually, she stalked over to the coat rack where she’d hung her purse and rooted a rubber band from within its depths; for now, a ponytail gave her at least one less small annoyance on her plate.  That done, she flopped back into her seat and forced herself to refocus on the report spread out before her.  It was just a simple Disturbance of the Peace complaint – but the fact that it was against Henry, Violet, and a few of their friends for a toilet papering escapade on the wrong townsperson made Emma fret over it all the same.  They defaced nothing, nothing was broken – they had barely gotten tissue over than more than a couple of the hedges – but none of that seemed to calm down Old Mother Hubbard herself.  Once David had arrived to answer the summons (he’d been the one on duty the night before) he had managed to talk the old battleaxe down from pressing charges.  It had been a near thing though, and Emma couldn’t help the smirk and shake of her head at her mother’s response to that news.  “Well why did you think I called him Charming?” she’d asked innocently.  However, the elderly woman had still been ranting that something needed to be done, kids today were out of control, and she could hardly sleep peacefully at night wondering what might happen next.

                Emma snorted at that last bit, feeling inclined to go tell the old biddy that if she didn’t like surprises she was living in the wrong town.  Instead though, she had simply ordered Henry to bed once her dad had swung by with him in the cruiser the night before.  Over breakfast, she’d told him that while she understood that he was sixteen, almost seventeen, and there were a lot of worse things he could have been caught doing, and that she knew none of them had meant any harm, she still wanted him to go and apologize to Mrs. Hubbard for frightening her and not respecting her property.  Henry had offered a monosyllabic “fine” and tromped out soon after, seeming not to be softened at all by the fact that Emma had ended the whole thing by trying to explain how much she loved him and what a good heart she knew he had; she simply didn’t want something that couldn’t be forgotten, some harmless teenage crime, to keep others from seeing the special young man he was.  She didn’t want anything to happen which could stand in the way of whatever dream he wanted to pursue in just a few years’ time.  She knew all too well that some marks against a person never fully faded.

                She could only hope he would be in better humor and more willing to listen later that night.  Probably not, since she had heard Violet’s father had grounded her for a month, therefore robbing Henry of his girlfriend and main companion for the next few weeks.  Though the man might actually have ended up being from Connecticut not Camelot, Emma sensed some Middle Age ideas about propriety might have stuck.

                Standing again, she went to file the report in the cabinet on the office’s back wall, and then leaned her head against it.  What it really boiled down to, she realized sadly, was that she didn’t even feel she had much room to reprimand her son.  She hated thinking back to those miserable, desperate days, but when she did, it wasn’t easy for her knowing that when she was a teenager she’d done so much worse.  Emma’s shoulders slumped as she stood there, torn, with her mind back in days she didn’t want to relive.

                A knock on the door interrupted her reverie, causing her to pull back and turn quickly to face whoever might be watching, running a hand under her eyes tellingly over suspiciously damp cheeks. 

                “Love, what is it?” her husband’s concerned voice, broke through her turmoil.  And she couldn’t help being glad it was him seeing her in her moment of weakness; if it had to be someone, at least he would understand.  Her pirate was across the room in two seconds and gathering her into his arms.

                Rather than trying to pull away and convince him she was fine, Emma leaned into his solid support, rested her head on his chest, and drew some comfort from his warmth.

                “You left so quickly after Henry this morning,” Killian continued.  “I wasn’t so sure that it went well.  Thought I should see if there was anything I could do.”

                Emma hugged him back, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning back just enough to peer up into his beautiful, adoring face.  “You’re already doing the best thing you could do for me.”

                “It’s just a hug, Swan,” he murmured at her hairline.  “You’ve been upset, and I want to help.  You do know that Henry and his mates didn’t cause any real damage, aye?”

                She gave him a watery smile in return, drawing a steadying breath.  “It’s not that…” she paused, then looked at him again and it all came pouring out.  “I’m upset because what kind of example am I, Killian?  At his age, I was shoplifting to eat, squatting in hotel rooms, living on the run.”  She sniffled, but didn’t stop, “How can I reprimand him for some harmless fun, when at just a year or so older, I was pregnant with him, in prison?!”

                Killian sighed, his brow furrowed with sadness for her, both now and for the young, frightened girl she had been, while he pulled her into his embrace once more.  Emma was grateful when he didn’t immediately offer platitudes or tell her it would be fine, but simply brushed his hook across her shoulder blades and swayed her gently back and forth.  “Oh Love,” he crooned. “You’ve come so far since then…worked so hard… Your teenage crimes have no bearing on that.  You boy is a bright lad.  He will understand.”

                It didn’t make her doubts, her worries for Henry, or the past hurt go away, but somehow Emma felt better all the same, just relaxing in her husband’s arms, knowing he would always believe in her and always see the best in even her clumsiest attempts. 

                “Do you always know just the right thing to say?” she asked him fondly, bemused half smile blooming on her face.

                Killian merely grinned back at his amazing, strong, survivor of a wife, with satisfaction, “Only with you, Emma.”

    by @snowbellewells

    Brace for Impact

    If the BAU team is busy catching bad guys, who is flying the plane? And how does this pilot fit into the dynamic? Reid seems to want to fit her a little closer to his heart. Oneshot with just some fluff and feelings. No warnings! Unless his beautiful eyes physically pain you like they do with me. 

    Inspired by this wonderful post!


    With a groan that bled into a curse, Dai rolled from her bed to answer the call of nature. The trail of unseemly words came when she registered another call, two in fact, both from Aaron Hotchner.

    She hit redial while she danced around the room to find a clean jumpsuit for use. The one she eventually located under her pile of CD’s had an oil stain on the shoulder, so she settled for tying the sleeves around her waist and letting that server as a belt to the baggy bottoms. The BAU team would have to deal with her disheveled state, though the messy haired boy she had her eye on often appeared looking like he had rolled right out his adorable goddamn bed.

    “Enjoy your sleep?” Agent Hotchner answered.

    Keep reading

    anonymous asked:

    First date, Magnus and Alex

    Ahhh yaasss!!! :DDD

    Honestly? Alex didn’t know what to expect when she decided to put Magnus out of his misery and asked him to be her boyfriend. Honestly, she should’ve  known when his face lit up, brighter than the sun. She should’ve known  when he grabbed her hand from underneath the table at breakfast, blushing like the adorable nerd he was.

    But she didn’t know, which means she’s in for the biggest surprise of her life.

    It started when none other than Magnus Chase showed up at her door, fidgeting with the helm of his sweatshirt, not meeting her eyes. He opened his mouth and what came out was just barely words.

    “OkaysoIwasthinkingearlieraboutstuffandIrealisedthatwe’veneveractuallybeenonadateand–” Sometimes, even when Magnus tried to give off the impression that he was fearless, he got worked up like this. The first time it happened, a sort of mini panic attack, Alex didn’t know how to calm him down, how to help him. It broke her heart in ways she couldn’t even explain. But now she could help him, even when it got worse than this.

    “Magnus. Stop. Take a deep breath….” Magnus does what she says, letting the oxygen return to his lungs.

    “Now. Tell me what you came to say slowly,” Alex says, emphasising the last word. Sometimes, Magnus said twenty words a minute, and he didn’t realize it. It made Alex giggle in a way she never wanted to again. 

    “Alex Fierro… Will you go on a date with me?” Frick. He did it in that innocent voice like a two year old asking their mom for a cookie paired with the puppy eyes. Oh gods, kill her now.

    Magnus clears his throat, letting her know he was still there. She realises she’s been staring at a plant, her jaw open wide. She looks back into his marvelous grey eyes, her heart stuttering. Stupid feelings.

    She smiles at him, sunshine lighting in her heart.

    “Sure!” she says. And oh gods…. his smile is the best thing that has ever happen to her. 

    When Magnus said “date,” Alex assumed it would be something lame and stereotypical, like a movie or just grabbing a cup of coffee at the cafe down the street. But no. She should’ve known Magnus Chase would strive for more.

    “Magnus. Where are you taking me?” He smirks.

    “You’ll see.” They round the corner and stop in front of an abandoned building. Alex looks at Magnus, confused.

    “Did you take me here to kill me?” she says, sounding deeply concerned. 

    “You’re already dead,” Magnus says.

    “Did you take me here to kill me?” Alex repeats. Magnus shakes his head, giggling a little.

    “No. At least, I hope not.” Alex nods her head. 

    “Well that still doesn’t explain why we are here.”

    “It’s a surprise,” Magnus says giddily. 

    “But we’re already here. It’s  not a secret that you’re taking me to an abandoned building in the middle of nowhere.”

    “Just…. let’s go inside.”

    “Are you kidding me? That place is haunted,” Alex says, eyeing it warily.

    “What? You scared?” He wiggles his eyebrows. She slaps his arm.

    “No. I just don’t want to be that girl.”

    “What girl?

    The one who goes in a haunted building because her boyfriend says it’ll be fun and then they die. Gods haven’t you seen Supernatural?” Magnus snorts. 

    “You know I don’t watch all that creepy junk you watch. Plus, it’s not haunted. I checked.”

    “Awwwww you do love me!” Magnus blushes. He tentatively grabs Alex’s hand and brings her inside. It’s dark. 

    “Well isn’t this room lovely,” she says sarcastically. “Black. My favourite colour.”

    “I thought it was green.”

    “Shut up Maggie that’s not the point.” He let’s go of her hands.

    “Magnus? I swear if you’re going to kill me I will not hesitate to chop your head off like I did last Friday–” the lights flicker to life, illuminating the room, revealing…. oh gods.

    The room is something that should be ugly and old like the rest of the building, but someone transformed it into something…. how do you describe it? Beautiful? Artistic? Lovely? Obviously, a lot of work went into it.

    It’s a mural. A mural of Norse mythology is painted directly onto the wall, slowly fading away as it drifts onto the other walls. In the center is a large tree, it’s willowy branches curving and spiraling up and up, curling onto the ceiling. It was as if it was actually alive, making the room smell like forest and rain. Around the tree are animals, their features set in ferocious ways. Alex could practically hear their growls.

    And in the center of the room was a pottery wheel. A pottery wheel. Not some cheap-o one that Alex has been trying to use for ages but a real life one. There where shelves stocked with paintbrushes and easels and all kinds of clay carving instruments. Tucked in a corner where stools and just…. it was an art room. It was better than she could’ve ever imagine. She walked over to her wall, pressing her hand to the painting, feeling the bumps from all the different brush strokes. 

    “Did you…. did you paint this?” Alex asks. Magnus bites his lip, then nods his head. 

    “Oh my gods….”

    “What? Is it bad?” He’s playing with the helm of his sweatshirt again. 

    “Magnus it’s…. beautiful.” That wasn’t a word that Alex threw around often. The word “beautiful” was meant to be saved for a time you really meant it, or else it wouldn’t be special anymore. That was why Magnus’s face lit up like a paper held over a match, bubbling joy spreading across his lips. Gods it was cute. 

    “You-you think so?” he says shyly. Obviously he hasn’t shown many people his artwork. Alex turns to him, so he can see the absolute seriousness on her face, an expression that wasn’t there often.

    “It’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” Magnus looked at the floor, obviously trying to hide a blush. 

    “I was just thinking that…. you know…. maybe you wanted to have an art studio or something….” Alex gets a wide grin on her face that let’s you know that you made her happy. The purest of happiness. 

    She rushes forward and throws her arms around Magnus, who puts his hands out in surprise. Hesitantly, he puts them around her. 

    “Thank you,” she whispers in his ear. It sends chills down his back. She pulls away, looking around, seeming to try and figure out what to do first. Her eyes light up with child like glee that tells Magnus that he did the right thing. Thank the gods for once he did the right thing. 

    “Will you teach me how to paint?” she says, practically bouncing. Magnus giggles. 

    “Only if you’ll teach me how to make a pot.”

    In the end, neither of them succeeded in trying out the other’s talent. Magnus’ pot looked like a blob and Alex ended up getting frustrated with the painting and messing it up entirely. But either way, they had fun doing it, music blaring in the background, (they both had the same taste. Fall Out Boy and Panic! At the Disco) and laughter bubbling in their throats. The rhythmic pattern of brushstrokes and and moving their hands up and down the vase soothed them and they let their lips crack into broad grins as they realised that they where meant to be. 

    How’s that anon? U like?? :DD

    Send me a word + a ship and I’ll make a fanfic out of it