twelve pictures

oopsnocturnal  asked:

hi! i'd love to hear what you think would have happened if wyldon hadn't let keladry stay after her first year!! love your writing :^)

“Mindelan, it may be that the best thing said of my tenure is that you were my student. Should that be the case, I am the wrong man for this post. I did all I could to get rid of you. Your probation was wrong. You know that, I know it. I was harder on you than any lad. Thank Mithros I remembered my honor and let you stay when you met the conditions—but it was a near thing. Next time, I might not heed the voice of honor.”

– Wyldon of Cavall (Squire)

Kel sat and thought about it all through the long summer– thought about joining the Riders when she turned sixteen, or going back to the Yamani Isles with her parents, or running away to become an unlawful bandit hunter. 

She drank tea with her mother and accepted her quiet sympathy. She wondered what was going to happen to Peachblossom. She did her morning glaive practice dances in the heady air of the tiny courtyard garden of her parents’ townhouse, where the cook grew herbs and spices in big overflowing boxes.

Summer rolled on. She sat, and she thought, and she did not tell her thoughts to anyone. On the first day of what would have been her second year of page training, she woke before the sun and had a quiet breakfast with her father, and then she jogged up the big dusty hill to the palace grounds.

When the pages trailed out of the building to the practice yards with dubious enthusiasm, she was waiting just outside their ground. Her chin was high, her shoulders loose while her hands gripped her weighted staff.

“Probationer,” Wyldon barked out her, when one of the boys went to fetch him. “Was I unclear in the spring?”

Kel stared him down, fingers white on her staff, and said, “I’m not a probationer anymore.”

“She’s a private citizen, just enjoying the fresh air,” Neal called from the other side of the practice yard fence. He got armor cleaning punishment for a week for his cheek and Kel lifted and lowered and struck with her staff to the call of the masters. Her staff hit thin air. The clack of the pages’ staves colliding hit her ears.

“That’s palace property,” Wyldon said ten minutes in, and plucked the staff out of her grip, so Kel followed the lesson with empty hands and brought her mother’s spare walking stick the next day.

They started calling her trespasser, after that, and Kel stood calm on the public grounds just on the other side of the practice yard fence, practicing her high blocks.

While the pages had riding practice, she sat in the dirt outside the riding yard and did the homework Neal smuggled out for her. He handed the finished assignments in for her, too, even though only Myles and the one Mithran priest who had never learned anyone’s names graded them. She took notes on what riding exercises the masters were assigning the pages and watched Neal where he sat on Peachblossom’s back like a sack of mulish peanuts.

“When I heard you weren’t t’ be coming back,” Stefan the hostler told her. “I wasn’t sure what would happen to the old lad.”

“Me, either,” said Kel, looking down at her math and trying to keep her face smooth and still.

When the pages went in for their seated classes, Stefan let her take out Peachblossom to try to exercises herself. Days the gelding was too tired, he found other mounts for her and Kel learned all their names– gentle Aubrey and fastidious Starfall and distractible, clever Redding and poor anxious Terence, who almost threw her more than once. “He comes by the fidgets honest,” Stefan told her and Kel brought extra apples for Terence when she could.

She still took on Lalasa when Gower found her feeding the sparrows in the courtyard beside her old rooms and asked her. Her parents’ townhouse had the funds to hire another maid, though Kel didn’t need or want a personal servant.

Lalasa pinched Kel’s torn clothes from her room all the same and returned them better hemmed and beautifully mended. Kel barely saw her, though she tried to leave a coin from her allowance on the piles of clothes she thought the young woman was most likely to steal away next.

She didn’t ask for the help and she told herself she didn’t want it, but she jogged up the big dusty hill to the palace grounds every day with her weighted harness weighing on her shoulders.

She stood just outside the low fence of the practice yards and ignored Joren’s comments and Zahir’s sneers and the rebukes of the swordfighting teachers– distraction, they said. Lump, waste, failure.

The sun beat down on her aching shoulders and she thought I could stand here forever, thought you are just noise and wind, I am a mountain. I will be here long after you cease howling.

Neal landed blows on Joren’s fingers, apologizing blandly to the masters for his clumsinesses, because Kel had ordered him to get in no fights for her honor. The sun beat down on the careful stitches of Kel’s cotton shirt, which fit as perfectly as Lalasa could manage from a shy distance.

She told herself she didn’t want the help, didn’t need it. Her harness weighed down her shoulders, her makeshift staff weighed down her arms, but the cotton laid light and kind on her back.

Read More (Ao3)

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Aesthetic of the month:

I dare you to contradict me….

7

Stolen Glances - I have watched the series 8 episode TIME HEIST many times before. It’s one of my favorite Whoufaldi stories. However, this time I noticed something unusual.  When Twelve says the line “picture the thing you want most in the universe”, he quickly glances at Clara.  Nothing new there. What I failed to notice was that Clara returns his glance.  She looks at him, too. I don’t know how I missed that.

Both Jenna and Peter have said on numerous occasions that much of the Twelve/Clara relationship was based on what was left unsaid. Their stolen glances and looks play as important a part in their dynamic as words from a Moffat script.

I wish other TV shows could incorporate the subtlety and nuance that series 7, 8 and 9 did for Doctor Who. Even on repeated viewing, you can still gain insight into your favorite characters. That’s my kind of TV.

inktober (6)

“Hey, Edward, I’m really sorry–” Tyler began.
Edward lifted his hand to stop him.
“No blood, no foul,” he said, flashing his brilliant teeth.

***

I raised one hand to halt his apology. “No blood, no foul,” I said wryly. Without thinking, I smiled too widely at my private joke.

anonymous asked:

ok but imagine modern Bellamy that's a history prof and owns a local book shop and has like seven dogs

this became a prompt idk if it is what you intended but i just had to.

The first time Bellamy meet Clarke he’s out with his dogs. He catches her stealing several glances his way. Feeling bold for once, he says “Can’t look away from these dashing looks, uh?” and he gestures to himself. By chance the cute blonde smirks and he can’t help but feeling smug about making her smile.

“I was staring at the dogs,” she says while nodding to them at his feet.

He looks down and remembers that he has seven dogs and that people tend to find it weird, for some reason.

“Oh” is all he can say and he blushes, mentally cursing himself for flirting with a girl in a dog park. She’s still smiling though.

“The good looks are helping though,” she says showing her notebook.

He takes it a sign to come sit next to her on the bench. She opens the page she was working on and he can see himself with his dogs on paper, a pencil drawing. She’s talented. He clears his throat a little.

“Um, that’s good.”

“Thanks. I thought so too.”

She’s bright and lovely.

He doesn’t really know how to keep the conversation going but she seems fine with staring at him and he can’t help but stare back. While he’s a little uncomfortable about it, she studies him without shame.

“So.” He stretches his legs. “You often come to the dog park?”

“I like to draw here.”

“I never saw you here.” And he blushes more because it feels more like an admission than anything else.

She shrugs and just says: “I moved here not long ago.”

He hums in answer and takes a look at his dogs.

“I expect you come here a lot?”

He chuckles. “Yeah. Seven dogs.”

“That’s some Robin Scherbatsky’s shit.”

He laughs more and when he’s recovered: “Hope I won’t fall for a Ted Mosby.”

She nods. “That would be a shame, really.” She looks at his dogs too and his heart does a funny thing. “So, how did you end up with seven dogs? Not that it’s bad or anything. Just-”

“Weird,” he supplies.

“I was going to say ‘a lot’ but yeah,” she grins.

“I always loved dogs, I had two first because I live alone and it was good company. One of my friends moved away and let me hers because I was the only one in our group friends capable of taking care of animals. I ended up with my ex’s after we broke up, but I can’t even remember why. I found a lost one and I couldn’t not take her. And when my sister’s dog got her litter I just got two because I already had five, so why the hell not?”

She’s silent for a moment and he fears he bored her to death. He’s about to say she did ask for the story when she speaks again.

“And you live in town?”

“Um yeah. I have a pretty big house with a yard and everything. The dogs aren’t too unhappy I think.”

“They don’t seem so,” she says, her voice soft, just as one of the dog jumps and licks his hands.

“Want me to introduce you to them?”

She looks at him through her eyelashes and she’s beautiful.

“Yeah I’d love that.”

He turns to his dogs again and blushes when he calls them “Poseidon, Artemis, Hades, Hermes, Demeter, Athena, Persephone!” He needed a theme.

“Wow, nerd,” she laughs.

“Shut up.”

*

When he sees her for the second time it’s the start of the school year and he’s meeting with a new student’s foster mother. He’s working on his lesson plans when he hears a small knock on the door of his office.

“Enter,” he calls.

“Mister Blake, thank you for meeting with me.”

He gets up to greet her and when she turns after closing the door he recognizes her. She must recognize him too because she lets out a small “oh”.

“Hello.” And he fucking waves like an idiot.

She bites her lips to keep herself from laughing and it makes him more comfortable for some reason.

“Hi. Um, take a seat, please.”

“Thanks.” And she sits in front of him.

She smirks a little and he doesn’t know where to begin.

“I understand better the nerd dogs’ names now.”

He shrugs, used to this kind of jokes.

“I had to.”

“Obviously.” And they’re staring at each other again. He clears his throat.

“Shall we begin?”

“Yeah. Of course. I’m Clarke.”

He takes the hand she’s presenting.

“Bellamy Blake, I teach History.”

“I know.” She wears a small smile that got his heart melting a little. He smiles back because he’s incapable of not doing so.

“You’re here to talk about… Madi? Is that right?”

“Yeah Madi… I don’t really know how to start…”

“Don’t worry, just say what you feel is important.”

She takes a deep breath. “Okay. She never knew her father. Her mother raised till she was eight and then died from overdose.”

It hits him, the story a little too close to his, but he doesn’t say anything.

“She’s been living with her grandmother for a while and it was good from what I heard but she was an old woman and soon she didn’t have the strength to take care of Madi. She ended up in foster care. She’s been with me for a little over a year now. And it’s been… okay, I think. I don’t want to say good.” She has a nervous chuckle. And Bellamy resists the urge to take her hand in his. “We lived in a big city before we moved here but I thought a small town would be better for her.”

He hums and lets her continue.

“She’s a great child. Really she is. She just had a shitty childhood.”

And once again he can picture himself twelve years ago.

“She’s smart but doesn’t like school, of course. She had to leave school for a year so she’s older than her classmates this year. I don’t know if it’s going to be fine…” She bites her lips and adds, “History is her least favorite subject.”

He can’t help but smile at this.

“Have you ever met someone history was theirs favorite subject?” She relaxes at his joke and it’s what he was going for so he smiles more broadly. “Clarke… Can I call you ‘Clarke’?” She nods. “Clarke, I’m going to be honest with you. I never knew my father, my mother had a drug problem and died from it when I was 15. My sister and I went in different foster houses. I know this shit.”

She seems profoundly relieved that this.

“I’ll take care of Madi the best I can. I know how to deal with teenagers.”

Her relief is written on her smile and it’s blinding. He will see more of Clarke Griffin, for sure.

*

He expects to see more of her at school, for parents’ meetings and stuff but she comes to his bookstore the following week and he has to go see her. She’s looking at a book in the classic section and he might fall in love with her already.

He comes behind her and takes a look over her shoulder. She mustn’t have sense him come because she jumps when he says: “I would recommend this book.”

She turns and takes him in.

“Don’t come behind people’s back like this!”

He laughs. “Hi Clarke.”

“Mister Blake.”

“Bellamy.”

“Bellamy,” she corrects and smiles.

“We have to stop meeting like this.”

“Like what?”

“Unplanned.” It’s bold but he feels pretty confident. She laughs so it can’t be that bad.

“Wow. Smooth.”

He grins, a little smug about making her laugh.

“You have some game for a nerd.”

“Oy!”

She smirks and every damn look is a good look on her, it’s frustrating.

“So, this is a good book?”

“Don’t change the subject, Clarke, I’m waiting for apologies.”

“I said you had game I don’t see any offense in this,” she says a little too falsely innocent.

“Get out of my bookstore, you’re banned.”

She blinks. “Your bookstore?”

He frowns, not understanding her surprise. “Yeah?”

“Aren’t you a teacher?”

“Well I also own this bookstore.” He shrugs like it’s not a big deal.

She hums. “You’re quite a catch, Bellamy Blake.”

He starts blushing when Miller calls for him “Blake, stop flirting I need your help here!” And that would make his cheeks fully red.

He lets out an awkward “sorry” and goes to see Miller but Clarke follows him. He can’t say he minds.

They come to the counter and Miller doesn’t even glance at them.

“Clarke, this is Miller. I work in the bookstore Saturdays and during school vacations and he takes over during the week. The books are the only company he can stand.

“Fuck you, Blake. You done with the flirting? We need to put the new books on the shelfs.”

“He’s not done with the flirting actually,” Clarke says and she takes his hand too and he might die from happiness really.

Miller glares at him, staring right into his eyes. He huffs and rolls his eyes and goes through the back door to the reserve.

Bellamy turns to Clarke, not letting go of her hand.

“Sorry he’s pretty grumpy.”

“Oh I didn’t notice.”

He smiles and looks down at her.

“I fear I gave all I got in my game.”

He swallows when she links her hands behind his neck.

“Good thing I have a pretty great game too then.”

“Yeah. Good thing.” And he leans down to capture her lips with his.

10

Transparent background Dan and Phil picture thingys,, these literally took me forever so it’d be nice if you didn’t repost them and say they’re yours, thank youu :))) (although reblogging with that button thing is v nice) feel free to use them as your icon!! (you don’t need to give me credit for that)) yay bye

you purchase a sexy fireman picture calendar but all twelve months are pictures of me in a full firefighter uniform completely clothed and visibly screaming in terror

Perfect (Bucky x Reader)

Request: Can I request a bucky x reader where you bring bucky to your parents home or they come to visit at the compound or wherever you live and they bring pictures of you as a baby,pre teen and high school

Words: 1,337

Warnings: Nope

Tags: pabegay1 i-am-mina frolicsomefawkes thyotakukimkim happelu970 annadier Shamvictoria11 spookass

Literally I was cringing just thinking about my preteen awkward pictures as I wrote this. I hope my boyfriend never finds those…..hahahaha


“I miss this.” You sat down at you and Bucky’s kitchen table. Your grandma was sitting across from you, a cup of coffee in front of both of you. Your hair was off your face, being pushed back with a couple bobby pins and hair sprayed to avoid it from coming loose.

“So have I, but it’s not like we’re necessarily right around the corner from one another anymore.” Your grandma chuckled softly, and placed both hands on the sides of the cup. You hummed in agreement and blew on your coffee to cool it down. Although you knew you weren’t really helping it cool down.

“I wish we were.” You admitted. Your grandma made a tsking sound and looked around your kitchen and dining room area.

“But you like it here, especially now that you live with that handsome man of yours.” She nodded to where your mom and Bucky were in the living room. Your mom and him laughing at something one of them said.

“I’m lucky.” You laughed softly, turning around to face your grandma again.

“That you are.” Your grandma agreed with you, a sly smile crossing over her red stained lips. “And so is he. You two are perfect for each other, never have I ever seen such a beautiful couple. So young, so in love.”

“Thank you?” You giggled, playing with the locket hanging from your necklace. You heard Bucky’s laughter erupt from the living room and you turned around quickly to see what had caused it.

“Mom? What’re you doing to him?” You scrambled up from your seat and made your way into the living room where your boyfriend and mom were looking through photos in an old photo album. “You brought that?”

“It’s for you, Y/n. I thought you would like to have pictures of your childhood around in your new home.” She looked up at you with a sly smile on her face, and you simply rolled your eyes and laughed.

“Scoot over then. I wanna see.” You sat in between your mom and Bucky. Your mom laughing at where you chose to sit, and placed the photo album in your lap.

The pictures started off sweet. They were from when you were just a little baby or toddler. Your outfits were adorable and awkward at times, but nobody can harsh on a little baby with pretty eyes and a silly smile. Bucky cooed at what you looked like all those years ago and you giggled softly, you cooed at yourself several times as well.

But then the pictures began to move on to when you became older. There was one when you were eight and were overly mad at the time the picture was taken and it was obvious by the look on your face. You knew what was coming, but you didn’t freak out until you saw the pictures that had been erased from your memory.

Your preteen years.

“Oh my god, no!” You tried to shut the album but both Bucky and your mom stopped you. Your preteen years were filled with awkward as all hell pictures. Horrible hair choices and purposely ugly faces every time a camera was pointed your way. Your fashion choice was awful and you cringed just looking at it.

“That’s you?!” Bucky stiffened a laugh. “You’re adorable.”

“No I wasn’t!” You blushed, reaching up to cover your cheeks with your hands as you cringed. “I don’t know what I was thinking, okay? God, shut up, okay!”

Bucky wrapped an arm lazily around you and pulled you closer to his chest as he chuckled at pictures of twelve year old you. You could feel the warmth radiate off his chest and scrunched your nose as his chin dug into the top of your head. You mom watched the two of you with heart eyes, she adored the two of you.

“I love you.” He murmured into your hair, although you could still hear the tease in his voice and the stiffened laughter.

“Whatever.” He squeezed you closer to his chest and you laughed. His scent swarmed your senses and your heart beat a little faster.

The pictures moved on from your preteen awkward years and moved on to when you were in High School. Your fashion taste were way cuter, and your hairstyles were way more stylish. You actually started looking like yourself, unlike when you were twelve. There were pictures of you with your friends, some who you were still friends to this day.

There was a picture of you when you first started learning how to drive and from all the times you went to sports games at your High School. There were pictures of you in Homecoming dresses and at school events. As you neared the end of your High School years, Bucky stared in awe as he saw you in your Prom dress from senior year.

You felt at ease when the album finally shut, and Bucky could feel it too since you slouched back into his chest again. Bucky chuckled once more and your mom grabbed your hands, pressing a light kiss to them and grinning at you.

“I love you, Y/n.” Your mom placed the album on your coffee table for you.

“I love you too, mama.” Your mom stood up and went into the kitchen to where your grandma still was. You tilted your head all the way back against Bucky’s chest and kissed under his chin lightly. He looked down at you, a grin still covering his handsome features.

“Is it too soon to tell your mom I love her?” You couldn’t help but laugh, moving your head back to facing forward. Bucky’s arm wrapped around your shoulder and hung lazily in front of your chest and stomach. You played with his long fingers with your much smaller ones.

“Feel free, she already loves you.” Bucky’s whole face lit up although you couldn’t see it, you just knew.

“When did she say that?” He sounded eager and excited, he adored your mom and her approval of him being with you meant the world to him.

“A while ago. She said you’re already family to her.” Bucky grinned more, and wrapped his fingers around yours before bringing them up to his mouth and pressing a soft kiss on them.

Bucky fell silent for several minutes. You could both hear your mom and grandma mumbling a conversation in the kitchen but neither of you could understand a word they were saying. They both adored Bucky to the moon and loved how he was with you.

“You’re so perfect.” The words came out of his mouth softly and his voice was only just above a whisper. Your heart skipped a beat and you froze for a second while playing with his fingers. You wrapped your fingers around his metal thumb and squeezed it tightly.

“You’ve always been perfect, doll.” He shifted his fingers around so that they were holding onto your hand instead. The coolness causing chills to run throughout your body. “Even when you were a dork.”

“Hey!” You giggled, your eyes closing softly and staying closed for several moments. You opened them and looked down at the your hand intertwined in his. The metal feeling of his fingers never failed to cause a rush of butterflies in your stomach and electricity to run throughout you. He gave you a sense of life.

“You’re perfect, Bucky.” He didn’t say anything. He only squeezed your hand softly, careful not to hurt you. He was always worried about his arm around you, he always thought he would snap you in half if he wasn’t gentle. For the longest time, he wouldn’t let you touch his arm.

You told him you loved him, every last bit of him. You told him you loved his arm, you told him that it wasn’t scary to you. It was a part of him, and you loved everything about him.

“I love you, Y/n.”

“I love you too, Bucky.”