the one's with jane in them are just terrible

anonymous asked:

Psh, grey eyes are waaaay cooler than blue eyes anyway! I never thought wolves had blue eyes, though I did read some of the Firekeeper series by Jane Lindskold that had large, intelligent wolves and one of them had blue eyes and his pack assumed he was blind but he wasn't. But given that is a fantasy story, I didn't really think it was at all accurate (sorry for random comment)

I think so tooooo! I’ve always loved grey eyes. And yeah, in fantasy stories, strange eye colors are neat and usually mean something. In that context, I don’t mind odd eyes at all and sometimes they can add a lot to a story, like the one you mentioned. I just hate seeing the terribly photoshopped wolf photos with bright blue eyes. They just look silly to me. And it seems such an odd choice since lot of people love and “idolize” wolves and have them be the face of the wild for them and then they go and edit bright blue doggy eyes on them. That just kinda defeats the purpose for me but, who knows, maybes that’s just me.

More pretty grey eyes!

So my hand slipped and a sexy ficlet happened.
A random romantic interlude from the life of yellow/blue rizzles.

Maura comes downstairs at the sound of Jane’s greeting.

The detective is sitting in the living room chair she often plops directly into after work. Boots crossed up on the coffee table, forehead resting in one hand.

This is how Maura gauges what kind of day it’s been. Following a good day, Jane would find her and talk to her, probably about food or whatever had her in a good mood. Following a terrible day, she would put the TV immediately on for distraction and sit there not listening to it. Following a regular long day, she’d just sit there for a little while in silence and decompress.

The day has been neither particularly good nor bad for either of them; simply tiring and a little frustrating, and Jane’s had run about an hour longer than her own. During that time, Maura has been thinking about making the evening more enjoyable for them both.

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“When we played in Buenos Aires [1992], we brought this all-girl band over from Portland called Calamity Jane, during their entire set, the whole audience - it was a huge show with like 60,000 people - was throwing money and everything out of their pockets, mud and rocks, just pelting them. Eventually the girls stormed off crying. It was terrible, one of the worst things I’ve ever seen, such a mass of sexism all at once.
Krist, knowing my attitude about things like that, tried to talk me out of at least setting myself on fire or refusing to play. We ended up just having fun, laughing at them. Before every song, I’d play the intro to "Teen Spirit” and then stop. They didn’t realize that we were protesting against what they’d done. We played for about forty minutes, and most of the songs were off “Incesticide”, so they didn’t recognize anything.“ - Kurt Cobain.

Ohmggodguys what a crazy week it’s been?!

I’m so SO glad it’s Saturday and despite having two paintings to finish this weekend for larger projects - I’m hoping to get some time to relax and pet a cat (or three).  Alright down heart of it all.

Costume For the Day:

- Black basic cardigan from Banana Republic

- Kushy Foot black opaque tights that sadly have two small holes on the back left leg - did I wear them like that you ask? - yes, yes I did.

- Springy floral rayon dress with zip-up back and pencil skirt - though, I look more like a light-bulb than a pencil.

- Black fabric over-constructed mary-janes with zip-up back, terribly out of fashion I know, but a good go-to black flat I own.  And no matter what anyone says, no one can always have the perfect shoe for every situation.  Then you’d just have too many goddamn shoes.

- Faux-ivory shaped feather earrings


Darcy Lewis: Emergency Petsitter - Chapter 4

by Archetype_ElectraHeart // pepperpottsblogs

“Darcy, please tell me that you did not liberate the residents of yet another pet store during the battle yesterday,” Jane groaned. “I know you still worry about whatever became of poor Barkley-“

“Baker,” Darcy corrected.

“Regardless,” Jane plowed on, “you cannot just take puppies in the midst of combat situations and claim them as your own.”

“Not to worry, Jane, I did not take him from a pet store. I found this one in an alley.”


“It’s Steve,” Darcy explained.

“Who names their dog Steve?” Jane asked. “That’s a terrible name.”


“Well, we hope he won’t stay a dog for long,” Darcy clarified. “And it’s not such a terrible name for a human.”

Jane gaped at her, eyes darting between the puppy on the floor and Darcy’s amused smile. “Hold up. You’re telling me that that is actually Steve. Like,” Jane held a hand high above her head, “about yeah tall, blue eyes, occasionally goes by Captain America. That Steve.”

“The very same, yes.”

huremsultan  asked:

bluesey + “Just stay alive, that would be enough.”

Okay yeah, I had the need to write something about Gansey turning eighteen because to be honest I didn’t need the information about Gansey never turning eighteen in my life and yeah. Also, Gansey is a sag.

Gansey stared out at the window. The sun was setting, and he was amazed by the beautiful colors that grazed his tanned skin. He couldn’t hear the birds that were soon flocking to the trees, but he wished he did. There was something magical about this time of the day, almost as magical as this year had been.

He felt calm, calmer than he had felt in a long time. He never thought turning eighteen would be quite like this, he always imagined it as something stressful, the year in which everything would change. And though perhaps nothing would be quite the same, not after everything that happened, he realised it wasn’t all as terrible as he had imagined.

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