wrap around braids

I Took a Walk for Seven Years

It was August 9, 2009. I was thirty eight years old. My oldest daughter Avis was twelve, and the younger pair, Joanne and John, were nine year old twins. I’d been married for fifteen years. I worked at an insurance firm. And every Sunday, while my wife and Avis went to church and the twins went to my mother’s house, I took a walk.

It was a clockwork sort of arrangement. My wife knew never to push me into going with her, I was an atheist and set on staying that way.

Of course, given what’s happened, my views have changed.

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Stumble Through Heaven- Part 1: The Calm - A Morrigan/Selene Fic

MAJOR ACOWAR SPOILERS AHEAD 

Sooo @tbhfangirl19 asked me for Mor/a lady someone basically. So now you have a two part Mor/ladies fic with Mor and…who is effectively my OC (she’s like…canon in five lines, she’s Viviane’s sister and this all definitely happened in canon) Anyway. I got carried away so now there’s lots of lesbian emotions flying around. Have at it. @king-havilliard figured you would appreciate the tag. Thank you for reading this/humouring my yelling about it @pterodactylichexameter

Title: Stumble Through Heaven - Part 1: The Calm 

Summary: (my timings are wonky, this doesn’t technically work in canon but it’s close enough and by the time I realised it didn’t work I was already attached to the idea and it was too much effort changing it for a relatively small detail) After her fight with Feyre Mor seeks solace in the Winter Court camp and runs into an old flame, Selene, Viviane’s younger sister. They revisit their history with one another. Rating will go up in the next part but this one is SFW. 

Teaser:  “How are you?”

There’s enough pointed emphasis in the last word that Mor knows the female can still read her as easily as she remembers how she prefers her tea. She turns away, looks down the sharply sloping hill to the battlefield again, churned and ragged and raw. A good mirror for the way she feels. All she says however in answer to Selene’s question is, “Fine.”

To her surprise, that response tugs a soft huff of laughter from the female sitting by her side, legs folded beneath her, back perfectly straight, “All these years, Morrigan,” she says quietly, taking a drink of her tea before shaking her head. “All these years and you still think you can hide from me.”

Link: AO3 

Despite the thick heat of the Summer Court, the air wet with blood after a day of battle and the mourning tears that followed, the Winter Court encampment still somehow feels cold to Mor. A sharp breeze lifts, tugging at her hair, stirring it around her face, as though trying to pull her away somewhere. She ignores it.

Still in the clothes she had worn when she’d descended down into the battle, not bothering to strip out of it. The armour feels like a lead weight now, dragging her weary limbs down. Exhaustion gnaws at her and she should sleep, should go back to her own camp, her own tent, curl up and let that fatigue drag her into tomorrow but…

She had needed to get out, to get away from all of it. Cassian’s injuries had rattled her, even if the stupid prick would be alright. She had been there, feet from him as he’d been torn apart before her eyes and she’d felt sure she was watching his death, helpless. Helpless again when she had returned to the camp and found Feyre gone, had to restrain herself from shaking that sister of hers to make her tell her where she had gone so she could find her and drag her back. Helpless as she had looked into Rhys’ terrified eyes and been forced to confess that she had been tricked, that she had been lied to, again, that those closest to her would rather go behind her back than trust her.

Then the fight with Feyre in her tent after she had returned. In one piece, thank the Mother, the things that she had said to her, the things she had heard come tearing from her friend’s lips. She closes her eyes, hugging herself, her fingers gripping onto her arms until it hurts. That breeze lifts again, carrying with it the tears that burn her eyes and fall as she bows her head, shaking, attempting to master herself.

They’re at war she doesn’t have time to sit here and feel sorry for herself, she should be in camp, helping, planning, doing something. Instead she’s sitting here, like a child pathetic and frightened and helpless all over again. She holds her head in her hands, shaking, not caring who sees. None of the Winter Court soldiers are likely to bother her. They would have to come seeking her, where she’s huddled on the edge of this war camp, over-looking the battle field that Feyre had tricked her onto, where Cassian had nearly died right in front of her, where-

She looks up at the soft, lithe footsteps that sound at her side. A beautiful Winter Court fae stands there, looking down at her. Selene. Viviane’s sister. It’s been decades since they’ve been this close to one another, not since before Amarantha. Yet she hasn’t changed. She remains the same. A tall, willowy pillar of frozen steel, cold and unyielding, precise and elegant as a sculpture. Her long silver hair restrained by a thick braid wrapped around her head like a crown. She looks strikingly like her older sister, except her eyes, they’re sharper, colder, and of a steely grey, a windswept mountain to her sister’s bright ocean sapphire.

For all they look alike however, there are no squealing outbursts and desperate hugs between the two of them. Only quiet. The same kind of quiet that always fills Mor whenever she looks into those pale, fathomless eyes, the same kind of quiet she wishes she could exist in for the rest of her life. The tension seems to bleed from her as that silence sweeps through her, a bone deep calm that she only ever feels around a few people in this world.

Wordlessly, taking Mor’s lack of brusque demand for her to leave her alone as acceptance of her presence, Selene carefully lowers herself down onto the ground, then passes over a cup of tea. Mor accepts it gratefully, holding it between her hands to warm them from the chill night that’s starting to draw in around her. She sniffs at the tea before she takes a sip. The mixed scents of citrus and apple draw a small, sad smile from her. All these years…All these years but Selene still remembers her favourite blend.

They sit in silence for a long moment, sipping their tea, Mor grateful for the other female’s company, despite the faint knot of tension that starts to pulse in her stomach at her presence. So long, it’s been so long since they were together, all this time, both likely fearing the other lost after Amarantha’s conquest and yet…Yet still the quiet embraces them, holds them tight, somehow more intimate than the tight embrace Viviane had swept her into when they had seen each other again.

It’s a gift, this respite that she offers her. But eventually, Mor finds herself asking quietly, “How are you?”

Selene stiffens almost imperceptibly, takes a sip of her own tea, mint, if Mor isn’t mistaken. Even without the scent she would have known. She remembers her too. Then she says, “Well.” Her voice is the same as she remembers it, like snow melting from a mountainside, cool and heavy and smooth, with that soft rasp to it that makes her shiver.

It had been a loaded question, a question asking after how she had fared all these years they had been apart, with the distance of grief and loss between them. That she had chosen not to answer it, to confine their discussion to the present…Says all she needs it to.

She turns to face Mor, her eyes seeming to glow a dark silver as the light from the camp behind them catches, “How are you?”

There’s enough pointed emphasis in the last word that Mor knows the female can still read her as easily as she remembers how she prefers her tea. She turns away, looks down the sharply sloping hill to the battlefield again, churned and ragged and raw. A good mirror for the way she feels. All she says however in answer to Selene’s question is, “Fine.”

To her surprise, that response tugs a soft huff of laughter from the female sitting by her side, legs folded beneath her, back perfectly straight, “All these years, Morrigan,” she says quietly, taking a drink of her tea before shaking her head. “All these years and you still think you can hide from me.”

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The Sorcerer and Her Son

Paring: Kylo Ren/Reader

Tags: female reader, female pronouns, AU - magic, AU - medieval, AU - gods and goddesses, tailoring, sewing, religious imagery and symbolism, male-female friendship, friends to lovers, nicknames, POV reader, POV Kylo Ren, fluff, angst.

Summary: In the small village on the edge of the forest, the tailor’s daughter cannot stand by and watch her mother’s ailing health lead her her death. Taking it upon herself to ask of the help of the resident witch, and her son, she must follow the contract to heal her mother. But, all magic, comes at a price, and sometimes, that price is knowing a little too much about things that are unsaid…

Word Count: 5,431

Posting Date:  2017-05-06

Current Date: 2017-06-12


Originally posted by somethingalongtheselines


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[ image: two sketches of princess bubblegum. the first sketch is her standing at the ready, watching a ball come to her. she is wearing a catchers mitt and a special outfit: a long grey shirt with long sleeves and a mandarin collar over black shorts and long grey striped tube socks. her hair is put up, most of it in a braid wrapped around her head, and she is wearing her crown. on her chest are two pins: a pink and purple candy pin, and a black and white rhombus pin. the second sketch is her in the same outfit from the waist up, holding the catchers mitt with a ball in it next to her head and winking. her shoulders are brought up into a playful shrug, and her right arm is held behind her. ]

sporty!

Paying the price

Chapter 20

Originally posted by lonelyx3

@pathybo @jojuarez26 @tigpooh67 @jaiboomer11 @beautifulramblingbrains @iammarylastar @feminamortem @deepfrz @lets-play-truth-or-dare @bookwarm85 @carefultheyspit


I was sitting in the uncomfortable office chair in front of the sturdy desk, anxiously twiddling my fingers while my father’s gaze burned a hole through me. He was leaning back in his much larger chair, arms crossed over his chest. He ran the fingers of his left hand over his mouth while narrowing his eyes at me. He was lost deep in thought while Dante and Amar stood to the side watching this obvious display of power.

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“ there is nobody who could ever capture me the way you have.”


Alistair would never have thought he would be spending his 23rd birthday as King, or his 22nd or his 21st for that matter.

“It would be wise if you looked for a wife this evening, Alistair.”
Arl Eamonn advised earlier that day as they walked through the palace courtyard.

“On my birthday?That’s just unfair really, if this is your idea of a gift you could have just gotten me ch-”

“Alistair this in no time for games. You are King, with no heir but enemies. I beg of you to think of this seriously.It is vital you marry soon.”

The grey warden turned king nodded slowly.

“Does love not come into this?”

“You can learn to love.”

“Like Cailan and Anora? I cannot do that. Not when-”

“You pine for someone else. Someone who has a duty to Thedas. You know her Alistair. Would she leave her duty for you?What if she didn’t feel the same anymore.It has been three years”

Alistair scowled and clenched his fist. Eamonn was right.

“I will see you tonight.”
The King snarled before turning on his heel and marching back into the palace.
✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴

Laughter, chatter and music filled the ballroom.
Alistair was of course unimpressed by this, his attention had to be directed towards the women who flocked to him in attempts to woo.

His mind wandered as an Orlesian woman giggled and flirted with him, he had no interest in her but could see Eamonn from the corner of his eye.

“From Highever and house Cousland-”

Alistair almost jumped- Cousland. It couldn’t be- could it. He turned his head to look at the entrance, heart hammering in his chest.

“Teryn Fergus Cousland.”

Alistair’s heart dropped. Of course it wouldn’t be her.

“Mmh, excuse me your highness! Awfully rude of me but would you care for a dance?”

The red haired orlesian girl asked, fixing her mask.

“Oh..not at all.”

So they danced, he managed not to step on her toes - thank god.

Then suddenly something caught his eye.

The flash of blue and silver, gliding across the room with more grace than an average noblewoman.

The dance finished and Alistair excused himself before moving towards the buffet.

That’s when he saw her again.

Her long neck was adorned by a silver amulet, her (H/C) hair was up in a low bun with a braid wrapped around her head and disappearing into the bun and she wore a beautiful blue gown and a sliver mask.

A glass was in her hand but she had seen him.
He gave an awkward smile but he received a big one in return.

She placed her glass down- was she going to come over?

Should he be doing this?

‘Remember what Eamonn said, she wouldn’t give up her duty.’

Alistair decided to meet her halfway.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said when she stood in front of him “but I’m going to ask you to dance.”

The mysterious woman nodded and took his hand.
The two twirled around the ballroom in silence and with ease- his dance lessons had come in handy.

“I never thought I’d see the day that my Alistair would be able to dance without stepping on toes or stumbling.”

His heart stopped.
Those eyes, god those eyes, how had he not recognize them before now? How did he not recognise the warden amulet around her neck?
How did he not recognise his love?

“(Y/N)”
He breathed, shock evident on his face.

“Long time no see Alistair.Or should I say King Alistair? Or bastard?’

He chuckled as the dance ended and lead her out to the balcony.

(Y/N) removed her mask and blew a strand of hair from her eyes.

"I forgot how bloody uncomfortable dresses are.”
She grumbled, rolling her shoulders.

“I can imagine, look, I was forced to wear these pants. They’re so tight and this crown is a dead weight.”

She laughed and leaned against the concrete barrier.

“Here, birthday boy. A little gift from me.”

The warden lifted her skirts, causing the King to blush.However, from her skirts she presented a toy golem.

“Hey! This is great, at least someone got me something I’ve always wanted!”

For awhile the King fiddled with the golem, proud of his present. For 23 he was still quite childish at times it seemed.

He didn’t look her in the eye when he spoke again.

“Where…where have you been?I went to Weisshaupt many times but you were never there. I tried to contact you also.”

“Life as the Warden Commander is demanding, I spend the majority of my time in Orlais and recruiting members.”

“You didn’t answer my question.Why did you never contact me?I was worried, (Y/N).”

Her smiled faded from her face and she turned her face away.

“I couldn’t interfere, you’re king after all and the whole grey warden thing would distract you from your duties.And….you need to look for a wife Alistair.”

Alistair placed a hand on her shoulder.
“You know I can’t do that. Not when you still have my heart.
You know I could never forget what we had…what you mean to me.
Of course it’s been three years but there is nobody who has captured me the way you have.
But I understand, your duty is to Thedas. I just need to know, do you feel they same way you did all those years ago?”

“After these years..my feelings never changed Alistair. I love you just as much as the first day I told you.”

His heart pounded violently against his ribcage. There was no way he was letting her get away again.

“Then marry me.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“But you need an heir Alistair, we’re Grey Wardens. There’s a slim chance of one grey warden having children after the ritual but two grey wardens together?”

“I don’t care. We’ll try and if we don’t produce one, the throne is Connors.You’re also a Cousland, nobility. They will accept this- us.”

She chewed her lip- thinking.

“I…I hope you’re prepared to be stuck with me for the rest of your days then, King Alistair.”

A burst of laughter came from the king and he swept her into his arms, placing his lips against hers.

“Maker,I love you.”

anonymous asked:

can you give a Detailed description of laverna i wanna draw her

:00 Absolutely!! Omg!!

Oh boy you asked for it, warning- this is a longer post. Like someone asked about my OC so y’all going down with me, sorry.

She’s going to show up more, so you’ll get more details of her In Action (ie in her actual outfit and stuff),

But basically she’s short, about 5′2 or 5′3, and has really long white hair. If it’s free, it’d fall all the way down her back, but she always wears it up. When she’s just going casually about, it’s always up in a messy bun that falls everywhere, but when she’s in her Getup its braided and wrapped around in a pinup braided bun. Like this but tighter-

She’s also pale, like /deathly/ pale. Like if she weren’t so energetic and bubbly, you’d think she was sick. She also has blue eyes.

Casual-wear she wears the same sort of outfit as she did when she met Flug, like a black halter-top and jeans. But she always wears something that shows off her tattoo. Always. Like so-

She also always wears that one necklace, which is just a braided piece of leather that hangs down loose, and has one long white feather as the pendant. Like one of the flight feathers off a swan.

Her outfit she wears In Action is like a dance unitard, but like Black Swan esc. It’s all black, to help her blend in and be sneaky and all that, and the unitard helps her be acrobatic. But she’s still got the feathers thing going, and her tattoo is also still visible.

This is the only thing I could find like what I was thinking of, only a full unitard so her legs are covered too-

And then her tattoo spreads across the back of her shoulders, and is just this hyper-realistic image of a pair of wings. They’re big too, they start at her spine and stretch across her back to the end of either shoulder. Like this except maybe lighter-

And that’s about it I think! For like, the more personality based parts of her character, she’s just really cheery, and loves teasing people. But sometimes she’ll get really serious or dark for like, no reason and it often freaks people out. Like when Flug got concerned a couple times. So she’ll be like out at dinner with someone laughing and teasing and then just suddenly like “wow I love being a freak of nature” and other people will be like “?????” and then she’s like “but omg this pasta is great thank you so much for taking me out.” 

In those moments she’ll get a far off look in her eyes or a dark look, but then it passes and she’s back to being real cheery.

But in general, just, real bubbly.

Sorry if I went off more than you wanted lol, this is also half a reference for me too.

Agape - Chapter One
  • Title: Agape
  • Chapter: One - Venus of Urbino
  • Relationships: Fenris x Female Hawke 
  • Rating: E
  • Summary: The esteemed artist Fenris is hired to paint a portrait of the Lady Hawke. Renaissance AU.
  • AO3 Link: Click Here

He sees a ghost whose skin is porcelain. She cuts through the crowd effortlessly, waltzing around people, moving with the lightest of steps. Her mask is gold and glittering, but it cannot hide her bright blue eyes and her long dark lashes. It does not hide her impossibly red lips. Gold earrings dangle down, bouncing against her as she turns to talk to someone. She smirks and her hold on the masks stick falters. She moves it downwards, the mask touching against her chest. Freckles cover her face like stars, cheeks pink with her laughter.

He raises the glass to his lips, takes a desperate sip as he leans against the pillar. She wears a single braid, wrapped around like a crown, the rest of her dark locks spilling down her back. She’s made of red and gold, dress flowing around her feet. Violins sing their song, cellos working in perfect harmony. The musicians work to make their art heard over the noise of the crowd. He doesn’t hear them for a different reason. He’s too busy watching her, tracking her as she drifts from person to person.

The mask moves back to her face as she talks, and he understands that it is a guard. With those she is comfortable, the mask is removed. The full pleasure of her face is only for the privileged few. He’s startled by a presence at his side, bumbling into him, and an overflowing goblet in his hands. “Fenris,” he says, his brow glistening with sweat, his mask tight in his other hand, “you should be out in the crowd!” Fenris raises his glass back to his lips, his eyes scanning the crowd, unable to find her again.

“There are a few people I’d like you to talk to,” Anso says, “it will be easy to sell your talent.” Anso lingers at his side, hands shaking as he downs gulps of wine. He intends to be as drunk as possible by the time the night ends. Fenris feels no such urge. Anso slips away, wanders the hall. The musicians keep playing, their fingers beginning to ache, their lungs burning. People keep dancing, candles burning and servants gossiping. It’s easy to lose time in this place, lost in the imagery and the marvel.

It’s a palace made of marble and stone, white rock and dark wood. Banners of the finest cloth, rugs beaten and beautiful. Statues carved thin, detail flecked even in the folds of their lips. He stops time in between breath, keeping the scene in his mind’s eye. She would be at the center of this painting, that ghost of porcelain, and her lips would be the only true color. Her eyes would be the focal, looking at you as you looked at her. He buries himself in this thought, does not notice Anso has returned until he speaks.

“Ah, here he is, right where I left him. My Lady Lucilius, might I introduce Fenris Rabiria?” He nearly drops the glass in his hands. Before him, beside Anso, stands the ghost. There’s a curl of a smile on her lips, and she holds steady the stick of the mask as she keeps it before her face. He reaches for her hand, taking it in his, pressing his lips to it as he bows.

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Dutch Space Buns

Space buns are “a thing” and I couldn’t be happier.  It’s no secret that I love buns, but there’s something about space buns that are so much more comfortable and fun.  This space bun tutorial incorporates dutch braids in the back for extra detail.  Give it a try!

Materials:

1) Brush

2) Two Large Hair Ties

3) Two Small Hair Ties

4) Bobby Pins

Procedure:

1) Begin by brushing your hair out.

2) Create a part down the middle of your head.  Tie one side of hair out of the way.

3) Flip your head upside down and take three pieces of hair at the nape of your neck.

4) Begin a dutch braid by crossing the left piece under the middle piece.

5) Next cross the right piece under the new middle piece.

6) Add in more hair to the left piece and cross under the middle.

7) Add in more hair to the right piece before crossing under the middle.  (Watch a detailed Dutch Braid tutorial here!)

8) Continue this process.

9) Once you get to where you want to place your bun, stop adding in any more hair.  Take all the hair from this side and tie into a high pigtail.

10) Braid the whole pigtail and tie off with a small hair elastic.

11) Begin wrapping the braid around the top of your pigtail.

12) Bobby pin into place.

13) Repeat steps 3-12 on the other side of your head.  Finish with hairspray.

5

Tangled Rapunzel Wig Tutorial by nocturnalbloom

Hello bunnies, this is my rapunzel wig I just finished for Anime Revolution 2015 in Vancouver. No photoshoot pics yet because the con is August 14-16. The wig is 150 cm and does not weigh too much! I saw these on etsy selling for like 300$??? I think in total this costed me like 75$. Not gonna lie though, this wig made me cry once, I hate tangly wigs ToT. Thinking about adding battery operated lights? I looked up a ton of tutorials but i ended up doing it a bit differently. Anywho here’s how I did this, i’m sorry I’m terrible at explaining things:

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4

I want somebody to write about Ahsoka. About how she walked out of the Temple with her head held high, and a tiny bag containing the sum of her life outside the Jedi Order, because Jedi are not encouraged to keep mementos. She has two changes of clothes, a cloak to hide her blades and enough money to live for a week. 

Ahsoka hugs her master, and kisses his cheek too because she can do that now. And maybe she had a crush on him for about half a minute when she was twelve and didn’t know him and maybe she didn’t. Because she’s been his padawan for three years and she knows his worth she bows to him and calls him Master Skywalker. And because she’s been his padawan for three years and she knows his worth her last words to Anakin Skywalker in every universe are, watch out for yourself skyguy.

He’ll call her Snips like his heart is breaking and it is, because this is yet another lesson on attachment that he has failed to learn and he wraps her padawan’s braid around his flesh wrist as a reminder (and in the coming months it’ll become a burden weighing him down, giving him yet another reason to hate the Jedi) but he hasn’t learned the lesson he was meant too and this isn’t his story anyway.

I want somebody to write about the shuttle that takes her away from the Temple and how she cries like she’s breaking because she has been betrayed

I want the three days Ahsoka spends in the lower city hunting down her lightsabers because she will not give them up. 

I want Ahsoka going to Senator Chuchi because she like Padme and Lux never gave up on her. And Padme is too close to the Jedi for comfort, and Lux is too close to her for comfort.  Chuchi aiding her because Ahsoka is her friend and because she is one of ten people in the Galaxy who has stood against Grievous and lived and in these dangerous times you never know what friends you’ll need. Ahsoka leaving Coruscant on smuggled onto a supply ship, hopping a ride on a destroyer, taking off in her personal cruiser, something fast and light.

Ahsoka removing the focusing crystals from her lightsabers and fixing the crystals beside the teeth of the akul she slew with her first lightsaber to her headdress as nothing more then pretty trinkets because one day she will take up her lightsabers again but today she cannot be a Jedi and a lightsaber is a Jedi’s weapon. Because she visited Ilum twice and bled for her crystals each time and she cannot, will not erase her past. 

Ahsoka traveling to Kiros, to Shili, to Onderon, to planets she has been before, to planets she has never seen, to planets she has only seen as a soldier glancing at her surroundings after three days of hard fighting in mud and gore.  

Ahsoka on Onderon because she has friends across the galaxy but Lux, Lux who is her friend before many is on Onderon while the Senate is out of session. She rides beasts on Onderon, explores the jungle and city and does the things she never could as a Jedi. Saw and Lux teach her to cheat at cards and drink in bars and if they get caught up in a few bar fights they never struck first. She does the things the Temple denied her. They’ll get drunk and talk about their losses, about Steela, and Mina, and Barriss and this endless war and if she kisses Lux it is because she can now without concern that she is betraying something she holds dear.  

Ahsoka will enjoy peace until it itches under her skin betraying her. She has been a warrior since she was four and a soldier since she was thirteen. She turns seventeen on Onderon and has a proper party with friends for the experience and leave three days later with Saw in tow, because Saw is another child soldier looking for another war. Mandalore has an ongoing civil war that the Jedi are ignoring, and the rightful heir is a friend who cannot accept republic aid without betraying everything his aunt held dear.

Ahsoka Tano with a blaster on one hip and a mandalorian blade on the other training soldiers to fight a war for peace on a planet that doesn’t want it against a former clone of the republic. Three months later she’ll call that irony. 

Three months later they’re winning the war when the Force cries out for all those who can hear it. Ahsoka knows the news before it ever reaches Mandalore. The Jedi are traitors they say. The Jedi are dead they say. Beacons at the temple call for the return of the Jedi, and Ahsoka wonders how many of her friends were caught in the trap before the survivors started to catch on.

She’ll use the force that night to dissemble her lightsabers and refit the crystals to her blades. When she puts them back together she activates them with a touch of her mind and the crackle hum of the blade is comforting. She’ll drop the force and let her blades fall, catching them eager hands and sweep through a reverse shien drill, as familiar as breathing.

(Ahsoka will leave Mandalore and the people she trained will die when the Deathwatch accepts aid from the newly formed Galactic Empire. Korkie’s execution will be broadcast planetwide. She mourns him but can do no more.)

Ahsoka leaving Mandalore behind and trying to raise Anakin, Obi-Wan, Yoda. When those fail she reaches out to Padme, to Lux, to Chuchi. Chuchi and Lux answers and directs her to Bail Organa and the seeds of the Rebellion. She’s one of millions that attends Padme Amidala’s funeral.

Ahsoka Tano lives openly under her own name. She makes it four months before a squadron of clones cuts her down. Captain Rex leads them.

Ahsoka Tano lives as a fugitive, gathering support, freeing slaves, distinctive green and yellow blades reminding the galaxy that the Jedi are not as destroyed as the Empire would like them to be. Her cell is the best the Rebellion has to offer, and Saw serves as her second for the six years it takes for the Empire to hunt them down. She tells her people to cut and run, but they stand by her in the final days. Her people take out a full battalion with half a dozen bombs and themselves in the process. Ahsoka  is hunted through the sewers like a rat by troops lead by Darth Vader. She separates him from his men and takes a run at him in an appropriately climatic and secluded location. Maybe she hesitated when she felt her old master through the force. Maybe he did. There were only two witnesses to that fight and only one survivor. This is the last time anyone hears from Tano.

(And a Togruta by the name of Barriss books passage off that shithole of a world.)

Ahsoka Tano lives as a fugitive, smuggling, infiltration and sabotage operations, carrying blasters never mind Master Kenobi’s disdain for them. Her lightsabers are never beyond her grasp but she uses them only to kill now, and then only when she is certain there will be no witnesses. She’s the finest operative the Rebellion has and her greatest talent is her ability to wreck a slaving operation in less then twenty-four hours.

Maybe she lives long enough to meet Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa and tell them without remorse the sort of man their father used to be, having long since figured out what became of Anakin Skywalker. Maybe she doesn’t. Either way Ahsoka Tano still has stories that need to be told.

Three Elements of the Padawan Braid

Qui Gon twisted the thin strands of hair together, in the traditional ritual, binding and weaving separate elements into a tight plait. 

There were three: Master, Padawan, the Force. These three were bound in obedience. The younger was bound to the older’s guidance, so that he would not stray off the narrow path, so that he could walk in safety in the Light, until he was wise enough to do so on his own. The older was bound to the Force, a sure and steady guide, inalienable compass, inner Light, until he perished and became one with the universal life, no longer able to Fall. The Force bound them to itself, together, to their mutual path, in the ageless and intricate pattern of willing submission. 

Obedience. He twisted the braid one last time, admired his handiwork. . “Teacher, student, the Force. They are one,” he said, binding the end of the short plait. A tiny strand of crimson thread wrapped around the braid just above the binding. 

“What is that for?“Obi Wan asked. Colored threads signified achievements or important life events in an apprenticeship. 

Crimson is for a trial of spirit,“ Qui Gon said, tying off the end of the thread. "An unusual color for your first marker, but we do not choose our own paths. I honor your ordeal at Xanatos’ hands.”

Lineage I by Ruth Baulding.

thesquirrelisonfire  asked:

ok, first of all, your Astrid cosplay is absolutely flawless, second, could I ask how did you do the braid? I just cant seem to get it right D:

Thank you so much!! I actually don’t have a set way on how to do the braid. Almost every time I wear it, though, I end up redoing the braid, so I’ve made some little sketches of my process that I usually do when re-braiding the wig.

1. First, I grab a large section of hair from the right hand side and the back of the wig and pull it to the left shoulder. This is one large section of the braid.

2.Then I divide the remaining hair into two other sections. One section will also have her mini braid in it (I just use a small French braid for this one).

3. Start doing a large, tight French braid using the three sections. I like to pull the back section across to start the braid first.

4. Take one of the sections and wrap it completely around the braid to make a loop of hair. Then bring the section back into the braid and continue braiding.

5. Take one section of hair and divide it into two sections. You should have four strands of hair for your braid now. Start randomly braiding the four strands till you get a nice looking braid that you like.

6. Braid till the end of the hair and finish it off with a hair tie and headband and you’re done!

I hope this helps! If you need me to explain anything better, please feel free to ask me!

Waffle Bun

I might have been a little hungry when naming this hairstyle… Other than the fact that I may have had a slight craving for waffles, the reason behind naming this style the Waffle Bun is the intricate criss-cross pattern on the flat, round bun.  Despite looking complicated, this hairstyle only requires a few simple steps to get it looking just right!

Materials:

1) Brush

2) Large Hair Tie

3) 3 Small Hair Ties

4) Bobby Pins

Procedure:

1) Begin by brushing out your hair.

2) Tie your hair into a half up ponytail at the back of the head.

3) Split your hair into three even sections.

4) Braid each of the sections with a loose three-strand braid.

5) Create one large braid using the three smaller braids.  Do not tie off the end of this braid.

6) Once at the bottom of the braid, securely hold one of the three sections in one hand and the other two sections in the other.

7) While holding the single section in place, slide (scruch) the other two pieces upwards.

8) Pull the scruch apart slightly to give your braid more area.

9) Loosely wrap this braid around the initial hair elastic.

10) Shape and hold in place with bobby pins and hairspray.

galacticdeer  asked:

Mun looks both ways before chucking Dawn in the askbox, their long red braids wrapped around them a bit. They didn't seem to mind being thrown because it was done in a somewhat friendly manner. //here have a random starter because yes//

Warp jumped quite a bit as Dawn hit the ground in front of him. He would have ducked behind something but… Well, there wasn’t exactly anything in the void to hide behind.
Oh. It was a person! Warp breathed in relief as the threat of something bad happening dissipated almost immediately.
“Hey! You okay?” He called out, approaching Dawn slowly.

Paint it Red

Carmen stood outside the restaurant she and Zenigata had agreed to meet at. The woman had only asked her friend to help with an outfit, but the queen had insisted on doing her hair and nails to match. Wile he had her trapped he also added some make up. That Carmen didn’t like, but Ranka had help. But she refused to let them touch her eyes for any type of eye shadow or the like.
They pulled her hair up high with a thick braid wrapped around, but left some of her hair to cover part of her face as normal. Carmen felt over dressed, she was wearing flats instead of heels, she didn’t need to be any taller. The flats matched the red dress and nails. And she wore a string of pearls with a gold locket attached, she usually kept it in her bag, the only possession she actually cared about. And she held a small bag for her phone and such essentials.

@inspect0rzenigata

muracookie  asked:

Okay one more. Can I get Natsu doing all the Karasuno boy’s hair? I feel like that would be THE cutest thing. BOOM two down. I'm now satisfied.

On occasion, when the team has a Sunday practice and Hinata’s mom is working, he’ll have to bring Natsu to practice with him. She’s old enough now to ride her bike on her own, though she has a hard time with the hills. The ride takes longer than usual, but they’re always a bit early. And then the fun begins.

She starts with Asahi, who can’t possibly say no to her begging face. He sits in front of her while she digs through her little backpack, which they see is full of hair products (she’s well prepared). She likes doing Asahi’s hair because it’s long and she can braid it. It’s a cute French braid, and there’s little hairs poking out everywhere, but he smiles and tells her thank you.

Next is Noya, who actually offers after excitedly watching her do Asahi’s hair. The libero’s hair is crunchy from his products, but she manages to gather it into some sort of messy bunch and puts a ribbon around it. Again, there are sparse hairs sticking out everywhere, and he sort of looks like there’s a big spike sticking out the back of his head, but he loves it and thanks her profusely.

Next comes Tanaka, who’s been milling about and watching wistfully. She has a special headband that she brings just for him, and makes a fuss over him the same as she does for the others. He loves it, and he and Noya parade around, showing off their “new looks.”

Usually after that, it’s easy to convince Suga, who bends easily in the wake of her pout. Suga gets some pins to pull back his bangs and a cute barrette with a butterfly on it—“Because it’s pretty, like you!” And of course he rocks it.

Wish Suga down, it’s easy to convince Daichi too, though her options are limited with that short, bristly hair. For him, she whips out the products—“Natsu, where did you styling gel from?!”—and slicks it back. He actually looks pretty awesome, going from nerd dad to cool dad.

Next come the rest of the second years, led by a smiling Ennoshita. He gets his hair slicked back too, and he looks ridiculously amazing. Like, he could be in a magazine. Kinoshita gets his bangs clipped back like Suga, because his hair is too fine to do much else with. And Narita gets a special headband of his own—which always makes Tanaka pout a little.

Usually at that point, practice starts and Natsu hangs out with Kiyoko and Yachi, who of course let the little girl do their hair—they’re Natsu’s favorites, after all. Kiyoko gets a fancy up-do with a brightly colored pin. Yachi gets a really elaborate wrap-around braid that bakes her look super mature. The boys go crazy over their beautiful managers.

During a break, it’s Hinata’s turn. Natsu likes to make him look silly, so it’s lots of little pigtails all over his head. He totally eats it up, even though he looks a little bit like an orange-spiked Hellraiser.

At that point, it isn’t hard to sway a grimacing Kageyama. He acts reluctant, but he’s been watching everyone out of the corner of his eye. She does his bangs up with silver barrettes and makes him look super handsome—which she tells him, and gets him stammering and shouting a little bit.

Usually Yamaguchi accepts defeat at this point, and takes a seat in front of her without being asked. His hair is longer, so he gets that half-up/half-down look, complete with a bright pink hair tie. And oops, he looks amazing. Probably the best of the bunch—except maybe Mr. Super Fly Ennoshita.

You might think Tsukki would be really resistant to this, but he’s surprisingly pretty good with kids. And he actually likes Natsu, so he relents easily even though he’s the last one. He’s one of her favorites, so he gets a special headband too—it’s a cool cosmic print, as opposed to the other boys’ solid colored ones. She spends a lot of time pinning it back and getting the headband just right. And he gives her a sincere smile when she’s finished.

Everyone secretly looks forward to her next visit.

Rapunzel  (Tony Stark x reader)

Request:  Imagine Tony stark playing with your hair (and possibly tangling it while trying to braid) thank you!

Thanks for the request, doll!  Hope you like!  


Putting your hair up into your jump helmet was almost impossible.  It was long, thick and downright unruly.  The sheer volume alone took up most of the helmet, and you had yet to find a way to control it.  There were many days when you were close to cutting it all off, but you could never quite bring yourself to do it.  Today was another one of those days; no matter how you secured it, tangled strands fell around your face.

“You know, I’m pretty good at braiding.  It’s one of my top secret skills that we don’t divulge to the public.”  Looking at yourself in the mirror, you could see Tony’s reflection as he stood behind you with a smirk crossing his lips.

“Have at it, my friend.  But I must warn you, you’re going in at your own risk.”

As Tony combed thru your hair, you began to wonder what this would look like from an outsider’s perspective. If one of the other Avengers were to walk in, the ridicule would be legendary.  If Cap thought he suffered thru the whole ‘language’ debacle, this would make that look like a walk in the park.  He began to weave your hair thru his fingers, slowly twisting the braid into shape.  His tongue was sticking out just a bit at the corner of his mouth, his concentration fully focused on your hair.  

“Elastic?”

Tony wrapped the hair tie around the end of the braid and let it hang down your back.  He stood for a moment, looking over his work.  “I need 4 bobby pins.  No more, no less.”

“Wow, you’re really getting into this, aren’t you.?”  He popped the pins between his lips as he wrapped the braid around your head, securing it into place.  He stepped back one more time to check for any loose strands, clapping his hands together at his success.  “Done!”

You spun your chair around so that you could see your hair from all sides, marveling in the detailed work he had done.  “Well, that settles it.  You are officially my mission hairstylist. Who would’ve thought?”

~~~

When the mission was completed and the team returned home to the tower, you didn’t have the heart to take down the braid just yet.  Not only was it really well done and it stayed in place like a dream, it was something special.  Tony was your best friend, and the fact that he did this for you meant a lot.  Once you had taken a few pictures, you finally resolved to take down the braid and jump in the shower, but there was a knock at your door.  

“Miss, it’s Mr. Stark.”

“Thanks, FRIDAY, let him in please.”

When the door opened you were immediately concerned at the sight before you.  Tony looked exhausted and anxious, like so many of those nights when he couldn’t sleep, sometimes for days on end.  He was wringing his hands and pacing in your doorway; he looked on the verge of panic.

“Can you come sit with me for a bit?”

~~~

Tony sat on the couch in the darkened room and gestured for you to sit next to him.  He pulled you in to sit with your back to his chest, slowly beginning to undo the braid on your head.  His fingers were moving very carefully as to not pull too hard, gently twisting the strands as they released.  

“Are you okay, Tony?  Did something happen?”

He took a few deep breaths, continuing his work.  “No, nothing specific.  I think I’m just exhausted.”  Your hair was now completely unbound, but he was still running his fingers thru the waves that were left behind.  “When I was helping you earlier, I had this strange calmness when I ran my fingers thru your hair.  It’s all I’ve wanted to do since we got back.  Is that weird?”

Closing your eyes and laughing softly, you were just relieved that nothing had happened to cause his sudden mood shift.  “No, sweetie, it’s not weird.  If this helps calm you, then this is what we’ll do.”

A short time later, your eyes fluttered open to a completely dark room, the sounds of Tony’s quiet snores behind you.  You had no idea how long you had been asleep, but when you woke you found yourself covered with a blanket that hadn’t been there before.  A dim light was on in the lab, and you could see Bruce’s shadow inside. Rather than getting up and risking waking your friend, you grabbed your phone to text the doctor.

Thanks for the blanket, B.

Thanks for finally getting him to sleep.

I knew it.

You must have some magical hair.  I might need to study this.

The next message was a picture of you sleeping against Tony, your hair draped over his face as if he were shielding himself with it, breathing you in.  

Yeah, now it’s weird.