strands of hair

Yarn Magic

Hello everyone! Now I know a lot of spoonies, and a lot of witches who either knit, crochet or sew. These activities suit both groups: for spoonies they offer a creative output without having to spend too much energy, and for witches they’re a really easy way to practise magic daily. So yarn/knot magic is perfect for spoonie witches!

This year (2017) I am crocheting a square each day, and making these into a massive blanket. I am choosing the colours of each square based on each day, how I felt, or magical colour correspondences I want to instil. 

As I crochet, I set my intention for the blanket within each stitch- for me these include protection, comfort and safety. Other ways to add magic include adding strands of your hair or the hair of a loved one into the blanket to add extra protection (this often happens by accident for me as my hair sheds everywhere!), or you can crochet with the colours specific to your intentions.

My colour correspondences are: 

  • white: cleansing and purity
  • black: protection and binding 
  • red: strength and passion
  • pink: love and harmony
  • orange: courage and comfort
  • yellow: communication and self love
  • green: fertility and wellness
  • dark blue: dreams and psychic abilities
  • light blue: joy and new beginnings
  • violet: divination and inspiration 
  • purple: authority and power
  • grey: neutrality and secrets
  • brown: the home and grounding 
  • silver: intuition and reflection
  • gold: prosperity and luck 

Happy Witch Crafting everyone! (see what I did there? good pun)

Emily xo


TITLE -  Neighbours (One shot)

WARNINGS - SMUT , orgasm denial , ice play , mutual masturbation , NSFW PIC

WORDS -  1.8 k +

A/N -   TAW  @supersoldierslover  you are my everything . Thank you so much.


Originally posted by minmiin1d

“Mmmm Fuck , your lips do look pretty around my cock .”,he pushed the wet hair strands from your face and took your hair into his hands .

“Open your mouth wider Y/N .”, he pushed his cock further down your throat .  You moaned around him as you widened your jaw . It was stinging but you didn’t care. He was twitching in your mouth and you knew he was close.

You moved your head side to side and took him until his hair at the bottom tickled your nose. You gagged around him sending vibrations through his cock . His grip on your hair tightened .

“Fuck Fuck Fuck Hmmm Y/N.”, he moaned   as you massaged his balls and licked his the sides of his dick  .  You looked up to meet his eyes . His mouth open in pleasure and an innocent look in his eyes .

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Wayside Inn

                 CHAPTER 1: A BUMP IN THE ROAD

You’re on the way to Stanford where Sam will be attending law school when there’s car trouble, leading you and the brothers to a rundown Inn out in the middle of nowhere. It was only after you settled in for the night that you wondered where the whispers were coming from. With no staff in sight….who was it that turned off the lights? 

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come a little bit closer

[jonxsansa, modern au, ~4k]

read on ao3

Sansa Stark is not, by nature, a devious woman. But sometimes impossible situations call for desperate measures. And if crushing on Jon Snow isn’t an impossible situation, well, Sansa doesn’t want to know what is.

The problem with Jon, she thinks, is that she’s known him forever. Robb had brought him home when they were only kids, and Jon had practically grown up alongside the Stark siblings from there. So by the time they hit puberty, Jon was far too bloody comfortable with Sansa to see her as anything but his best mate’s sister.

Sometimes—like when he throws an arm around her shoulders, or tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, or hugs her goodnight—it’s not so bad. Sometimes when he swears and calls her latest ex-boyfriend a dick, she thinks that maybe he’s happy she’s single again. Sometimes, when he throws a bag of her favorite crisps into her room on his way down the hall to Robb’s, Sansa can pretend that it means something more.

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in the face of all that’s known

ch. 4 out of 10; pg-13 to R; MSR UST; angst/case-file; set immediately after Amor Fati; After years of being gaslit by the universe at large, Scully seeks to overcome an overwhelming despondency (and Mulder’s attempts to crawl into her brain) by solving the mystery of the Town That Didn’t Know Anything. Without Mulder.

A/N: So sorry for the wait! I lost my notes on this and spent a whole week being too angry to try to salvage anything. Warning for a little bit of violent imagery here.

ch. 1, ch. 2, ch. 3


ch. 4

The Alcoholic’s fingerprints, looping clumsily along her many shot glasses. A wine bottle from the Manager’s office; she’d seen him drink straight from source. Strands of hair she’d nabbed from the collar of the Waitress’ uniform, as the woman swayed dreamily in front of her to the tuneless musings of two talentless teenage boys.

Scully had dated a self-described punk in college; her first taste of rebellion out in the open. Quickly she’d understood defiance  was meant to be fermented. Some things just tasted better in the dark, and having her parents angry with her and threatening to pull her out of school had been decidedly less fun than her father’s unknowing hand resting affectionately on her shoulder.

But that punk had a 4.0 GPA and wore polos and and a sweater tied around his neck every time his parents dropped by for a visit. Years later she might have appreciated the duplicitous nature, might  have recognized traces of it in herself. Nineteen and pissy and crushing hard on Joe Strummer, she’d broken up with him when he told her he loved her and hooked up with the guitarist of his band.

He’d been the bassist.

Who needs a bassist? had been the favorite joke, the most obvious. Bassists never get laid. What do you call a person who hangs around a band? A bassist. She’d heard all the jokes, laughed at them, agreed with them under the careful strumming of her guitarist’s fingers.

But there, in the bar. Where was the bassist? The boys played against each other, two separate, discordant songs, untethered by the mellow notes of a bass guitar. How obvious it was, how absurdly mismatched. Like in everything else this town offered, she was hit with the knowledge that something was missing. Not just wrong, but missing.

The boy was gone, the blond one. She searched for him in the chattering crowd, waited for someone to grab the microphone and apologize for the inconvenience. We’re sorry, our singer and bassist is out sick. Stick around for the noise. No one did, and no one noticed when she left. She grabbed the shot glasses, the curled strand of hair. In the empty office at her motel she took a wine bottle with gloved hands and lobbed it into an evidence bag. Tomorrow she would call Arthur Dales. Tomorrow she’d continue looking for the boy.

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“When they were back in their room, Gabriel wanted nothing more than crash down and sleep. He hadn’t had a lot of peaceful nights of sleep, lately. But when he sat down, ready to bundle under the covers, he noticed Nathan, still in his animal form, watching him from the other side of the balcony.
"Aren’t you going to sleep?” Gabriel asked.
The wolf sat down, rested its head on its paws, and silently watched him.
Gabriel wasn’t going to argue with an animal. […] Gabriel laid down and murmured, “Okay then.”
He fell asleep almost instantly.
Nathan and his animal watched him as the sun slowly rose above the horizon. It was silent. As the light played with the mahogany strands in Gabriel’s hair, Nathan thought he hadn’t felt this peaceful in quite some time"


Summary: She smelled of rain water and crisp air, even if it wasn’t winter. Her hands were unusually warm.On the rare times she enjoyed things people usually cancel them out They didn’t care anyway. Someone who cared for everybody, Who was thought to care for nobody, hating every inch of her body, every strand of hair, every small freckle, every single bone, she loathed with a burning hatred. He didn’t. 

Author’s Note: 

Hello~ welcome to my first story. I’m not sure who is going to read this but I wrote this for people like me (not sure if there are any out there) and I’d never seen a story like this before. I really hope you enjoy this! I also apologize for any errors in my grammar, thank you!

Trigger Warning: This story mentions death, suicide, depression, anorexia and other heavy topics. 

| Part 2 (next week)|

Keep reading

&. ` every tuesday at 4 PM, ivy would escape the hustle & bustle of downtown norley by seeking solace on a bench that sat on the farthest edge of the town’s only park. she had a pile of loose classroom notes on her lap and a pencil tucked behind her ear — its chipped, yellow exterior peeking out from under curled strands of blonde hair. there was a slight breeze just gentle enough to tease the well-loved pages of her notes around in a playful dance; the fluttering sound reminded ivy of the better days of college. she’d often do homework on a stretch of grass on campus, the wind always threatening to steal her work just as it did now. as the nostalgia took over, a much larger gust suddenly came to turn thought into reality.  shit ! the blonde yelped as her notes flew out from under her grasp and into the breeze’s mocking current. she quickly slid off the bench and onto her hands and knees, little bits of dirt digging into her skin as she attempted to gather the loose-leaf pages before they dared to fly even further. 

favorite lapis screenshots

50/10 the one eye closed, the one eye open, the blush, the smile, have you ever seen anything so beautiful, A+

the soft cool colors, her side profile, I love it, everything about this makes my heart flutter

there will never be a moment where this fuckin badass frame - and entire scene in general - doesn’t give me chills

the hair. the face. need I say more. 

the messy hair makes her look emo 99% of the time. but then there’s that 1% like we see here where she smiles and she transforms from angsty teenager to quirky cute girl who only occasionally says something slightly morbid

adorable pumpkin mom with the strand of hair sticking up. I appreciate it grandly.

*breathes in* i love her so much

Little things Draco does that turn Harry on

-sticks his tongue partway out when he’s thinking hard about something
-twists strands of his hair between his thumb and forefinger
-puts his hands on his hips when he’s angry about something
-blushes incredibly easily
-sleeps in nothing but his socks
-mutters quietly to himself in French when doing things around the house
-chews with his mouth closed
-reads books out loud with his head in Harry’s lap
-hums along to records
-tries very hard not to laugh at Harry’s jokes and makes this twisted up half-frown/half-grin and Harry’s heart dissolves
-says Harry’s name during sex
-puts his hands on Harry’s cheeks when they kiss
-and his hair
-and his arse
-and everywhere
-Draco’s hands in general are indeed a huge turn-on
-smirks in response to almost everything
-says “I love you” like… a lot

I havent been posting cause i got breath of the wild and thats gonna occupy 90% of my time for a while but my stepdad took the switch to work today so i decided to do an edit of former altean haggar (this is how she looked in the old one ,like exact, i didnt change a thing cause im lazy)