#owlgirl1998

[systlin]

For homeade cough syrup, so you know of any that don't use onion? My uncle is allergic, and even the smell makes him sick so I can't have it in the house.

Don’t use the onion, and use horehound and elderflower instead. 

Horehound and elderflower tea with a healthy dollop of honey is better than any commercial cough syrup. 

[scriptflorist]

Hey, do you guys know of any flowers that can be used to make a bouquet that is meant to be a declaration of love but is misinterpreted as a request for an assassination? inspiration for the story is here if the question isn't clear: tumblr. com/ reblog /165411234517/QxaUvf5x

Hey owlgirl1998!

First off for anyone interested in the post: here is the link.

It’s not possible, as much as I would like it to be. The language of flowers is simply not laid out for assassination requests, which is really the only thing stopping this. There are a lot of flowers which rapidly changed in meaning within just a few short years and quite a few that have rather odd meanings. I’m still waiting for a use of you are near a snare, so there’s that. However, even when they change meaning their overall interpretation as romantic, negative, positive etc. usually does not change.

That being said, a misinterpretation in the specific way the post states is not only highly unlikely but impossible with the resources that we have. It would mean that a flower has two very contradicting meanings, what happens more often is that a single meaning has two connotations or none, either being positive or negative and all relies on the context. Also, it’s not that there was ever more than one Victorian flower language like I said before, meanings simply changed over the years. Which of course could lead to confusion, but anyone attempting to keep track of the changes would have been well versed in the language of flowers.

However, if a family of assassins specialised in flower language as a means of communications it could be very well that they use only a single book of established interpretations. Which would narrow down the flowers which could be used for such a request vastly. If they keep up with the meanings changing over the years they could have decided on a single flower, regardless of meaning (or maybe, rather not considering their profession, your choice) to be added to the assassination bouquets so their meaning would be unmistakable. It’s a language so there are some ways to bend the rules, like with any other.

Since it’s not possible, you are free to make up a combination of flowers of your own. After all, if meanings changed even throughout Victorian times, nobody’s stopping you from doing the same.

- Mod Jana

Disclaimer

This blog is intended as writing advice only. This blog and its mods are not responsible for accidents, injuries or other consequences of using this advice for real world situations or in any way that said advice was not intended.

[shamankingasakuraworld]

Envy burning red

Mappa Douji is an useless,untalented, ungrateful stupid mongrel picked off the streets, and Daitaro is drawn to him like moth to flame.

Tadatomo-sama is kind,charitable master. He saved Daitaro from life of poverty and certain death, and so Daitaro’s body and soul belong to him.

But it seems that Tadatomo-sama has been too charitable. Mappa was saved from even worse circumstances than Daitaro himself. Tadatomo-sama took him in, pale and gaunt, naked and starved, saved him from the cold and dirty streets, from illness and street fights, and how does brat repay him?

He doesn’t! Not an ounce of respect, not a crumb of humility! How dare he?

Oh, he is polite, all right, all enough, but never too much, never enough. His voice is cold and flat and gaze empty, he stands straight as arrow yet completely uncaring, blankly observing world without emotion or judgement, like it is a novelty but boring one for him to pick apart in his free time. He doesn’t bow to nobles or priests, doesn’t move to let them pass.

It’s almost as if he wants to die.

Daitaro remembers his village, and way they looked at him. His ugly birthmark. His ambitions and words. His powers and seemingly empty air he would speak to. And he remembers Tadatomo-sama saving him.

Tadatomo, head onmyoji, perhaps most powerful man after emperor (truly, Fujiwara family), stopping to look at drenched village brat. Stepping out of his gilded carriage, dirtying his fine robes, giving his parents precious golden coins glinting like sunlight. Remembers silk and house and robes Tadatomo-sama gave him, and how servants bowed and people smiled at him.

Be proud. Be smart. Respect Tadatomo-sama. He told himself. And all will be well.

‘‘You mean I should fake my personality depending on who I’m with, just like you?’‘

He tells something else, horrible brat dressed in beautiful robes he doesn’t deserve, but Daitaro doesn’t hear him, blood boiling and teeth gritting, hands reaching like claws, ready to grasp and tear and hurt, because how does he dare?

What does he know, about living with parents that couldn’t look at your face and trying to speak right way to please them? About right combination of pride and humility needed to show Tadatomo-sama that he deserves to taught new technique? Smile that looks inviting but threatening enough to students hoping to take your place, or how to remain deferential but stubborn in front of power hungry  nobles? 

He is given everything for no reason and yet he can’t be grateful enough to even try to not make problems for Tadatomo-sama, and they should have left stupid suicidal brat die on street because it’s all easy to make apathetic faces at people who saved you but when retribution comes their head will be ones to fly.

And brat dares judge him, as if he is any better, for advice Daitaro charitably gave out, to kid that didn’t even know what onmyoji was when boy was supposed to be taught under best in whole Japan, and advice that would allow him to survive in treacherous Court (and maybe he was scoffing and condecensing and said street rat but it was true so why does it matter, why is boy hurt, if he can be).

Maids jump away, shocked and unsure what to say, not ready to involve themselves, and Daitaro is angry enough to smash disrespectful brat’s head against rocks, but moment his hands touch shoulders they freeze, his face trapped in painful grimace, and for all his rage he can’t move.

Because boy doesn’t move, his face still blank and uncaring, and his neck hung,as if he has been awaiting execution for centuries, and Daitaro knows Mappa Douji wouldn’t move, not for all gold in world, not if Daitaro wielded sword of priceless steel, knows that  Enma Daioh himself wouldn’t make him flinch, that when Mappa Douji dies it will be without resistance, walking up to death and paying it no more attention than to gnat on road...

‘‘Stop it, Daitaro. Do you want to ruin such precious garments?’‘

He is on his knees, bowing and blushing before Tadatomo-sama, his heart madly beating, because he let anger take over, because he was rude and impulsive and he didn’t listen, Tadatomo-sama  wouldn’t have saved bastard if there wasn’t any worth...

And that is forgotten, and Daitaro feels ease and bile rising at his throat, and it is good to watch Mappa Douji get scolded and be surprised, and yet his blood turns cold at sight of care and love offered to brat (and shikigami, snake wrapped around Mappa’s fragile body, so easy to break, and he tries not to look)...

And Mappa’s face is scared, but he doesn’t look, it will do him good to learn to value life.

‘‘Come to my room, Mappa Douji. You, poor boy who doesn’t know love. Shall I teach you basics firsthand?’‘ Amd Daitaro’s heart breaks.

He would scream, if he could, if it didn’t feel as if his soul is going to leave his body. He would scream if he could, scream that would flatten mountains.

But he can’t. He can only watch, As Mappa Douji is led to Tadatomo-sama’s room.

It isn’t fair! It isn’t fair! It isn’t fair!

He roars across his room, hitting doors and overturning scrolls, breaking precious bowls his mother would have killed herself for, things that made him fall in awe when he first saw him, now thrown and shattered like useless, easily replaced junk.

It isn’t fair! Tadatomo-sama never took lovers-charges, not even him, and he was his only student (not anymore, not anymore, not ever again). He was obedient, studious, pleasing, making right connection, talented...If anybody should have been awarded that honor, it should have been him!

It shouldn’t have been him! He deserved that, worked for it, paid for it in loyalty and struggle and blood. He was his first student, his special boy, his heir, not this bratty, horrible, ungrateful, thieving brat that hasn’t been in their home for even half a week, that apathetic street rat, that dumb mutt, that, that...

That horrible abomination, that demon child, that son of fox.

He was waiting outside of Tadatomo-sama’s door.

Waiting, not hiding. Of course not. That was disgraceful. Trunks just happened to conveniently be in front of him.

And he wasn’t spying. He would never invade his teacher’s privacy like that. He was simply awaiting his teacher, in case he was needed and called.

Door opened and he ducked. Mappa Douji walked out.

He was sorry sight, stunted nude body and flailing, reed thin limbs. Pale skin, scarred, recently covered by shit and caked dirt stretched over bones, his ribs visible enough that Daitaro could play music on them. Across body bruises bloomed, ancient and newly made, red imprint of fist over throat. His long hair was disheveled, clusters falling, hiding eyes like veil. In his hands he held torn robes. Red, red robes, red as rubies, red as raw meat.

Red as blood running down Mappa Douji’s tights (there were other things, too, white, so so white).

Mappa jerked, limped, almost crawled. His steps were  small and graceless, and like leaf on wind he he was stumbling, as if being blown left and right. It seemed as if every step sent knife tearing through him, as if he was stepping on red hot coals, red as blood leaving trail behind him.

But he was silent, and standing, and proud.

Tadatomo-sama, in all his finery, was never this amazing and stunning and majestic (it pained him to admit, poison in heart, but it was true). Emperor, and entire Fujiwara family, and all nobles of world couldn’t match Mappa now, bare and beaten and bloodied but more glorious than they could ever be, even if they dressed all in gold and jade and silk.

Mappa walked, straight like great tree, like arrow, like pillar of home, walking determined as greatest warrior, as unstoppable as coming of night. He walked, and he could have walked through hottest magma and deepest woods, could have taken eight million swords and arrows and spears without flinching. He walked, and Daitaro knew mountains would move and seas part to let him pass. And he knew, that if Mappa demanded it, he would have knelt and given his soul over, like to an old, dark god.

And then he stops, and looks, and Daitaro knows he has been seen, despite night and shadows and  trunks he has been seen, caught like pretty butterfly whose wings Mappa will tear off before crushing him beneath his boot.

His face is pale, lips scratched and bloodied, eye black and welt forming on his bloody cheeks, more terrible than even when he was lying in street among rats and demons.

And yet, it is tight and cold and empty, bare of feelings and any human concerns, completely apathetic despite what happened (honor, some small part dares weakly whisper), as if this is nothing, as if it is all boring and predictable and meaningless (he didn’t cry, Daitaro knows that, for scleras are so white, white as leaking fluid between tights, and completely dry). As if this happened before. As if this will happen again, and Mappa cares not.

But he looks better, beneath hair and bruises and cold mask, and realizes Mappa’s grey eyes are  sharp and hard and wild and wide and burning.

Mappa doesn’t blink, or smile, simply tilts his beaten head and blank face and shrugs before continuing on his way.

When he is gone, Daitaro huddles in darkness before running to his room, chased in uneasy sleep by memory of burning eyes and empty face and whisper of demon child, son of fox, demon child, son of fox, demon child, son of fox....

[breelandwalker]

Hey Bree? Do you(or your followers) know any spells for reclaiming objects? The spirits have been messing with me and hiding my things, so far I'm missing 2 pairs of glasses, my fidget ring, an iPod and several other, less important things. I've been looking but I need an extra boost. Can you point me in the right direction?

I have a little spell that I use when I can’t find important things. Others have commented on its’ usefulness. Maybe it’ll work for you!

Lost Object Finder CharmTo find a missing item when you’re at your wit’s endStand in a clear space in the room where you’re searching, look up at the ceiling, and clap your hands three times.Household spirits, gather roundLet now what is lost be foundLet your gaze fall where it will. Check for the lost item in the first place that draws your attention.It helps to leave out some sweets or a glass of juice or wine every so often to keep those little helper spirits happy.

More helpful and practical spells available here.

[blackkatmagic]

KAAAAAAAAAAT WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS? Now ObiHina is brotp and I am way to gay for actuallyagoodcharacter!Hinata

💕💕💕

[aroacehogwarts]

owlgirl1998 reblogged your post “Potter Prompt: I’m gonna hc Almeric Sawbridge (who defeated the biggest river troll ever) as a demiromantic ace -H”

#story ideas I did not need

excuse u. im p sure this was indeed a story idea you did need

;3

~Hufflepuff Mod

[my-nameless-bliss]

Drunk opinion on Bohdi mentoring Finn?

okay admittedly i’m 600% too drunk to give this ask the type of consideration it deserves because this entire concept destroys me but basically the whole idea is both of them getting to know that there’s someone else with the same experiences????? 

obviously there’s a shit ton of emotion to unpack about finn having someone to look up to, and even more emotion to unpack about bodhi getting to see his legacy and know that his actions powerfully and specifically made a difference for future generations, and all that good stuff… but to some extent, it’s the simpler side of things that get me the most. just each of them getting to be around someone else who was raised/worked in the structure of the empire. yeah, there’s the big stuff, but there’s also little tiny details about the day-to-day life that they know no one else would understand. imagine how many stupid little inside jokes they’d have about the most unimportant details of the inner workings of the empire. 

like, yeah, bodhi would be able to give finn so much support and understanding, but also… the dumb inside jokes about how bad the cafeteria food is.

[absynthe--minded]

Would it be okay to do a cosplay based on your redesign? I love historical redesigns. Historical fashion is my life blood, but I don't want to step on any toes.

PLEASE DOI’m gonna have a lot of, like, random Alternate Versions and things? The version of the dress that I end up making is going to have a lot of a trail behind it - make my version, make something inspired by my version, do literally anything you want!

[janiedean]

Hi just popping in to tell you how much ricstar has taken over my life. Julio is my son and I will fight everybody including him for his happiness. You are evil and I love you.

*rubs hands evilly* :DDDDD

GOOD. HAVING YOUR LIFE RUINED BY RICSTAR IS THE BEST WAY TO HAVE IT RUINED.

also welcome to the club of ‘julio is my son and he deserves to be happy WITH HIS BF and no one try to make his life any more terrible’ IT’S A VERY NICE CLUB (he’s my fave

[systlin]

Dude I can't even drink a red bull with out getting heart palpitations just reading your posts raises my heart rate. On a completly unrelated note, enjoy a cup of coffee for me would you?

“Raises ninth cup of the day”

This one’s for you!

[aethelar]

An American's Take on FBAWTFT

Okay so as an american I can tell you flat out that the Statute of Secrecy, let alone the lengths MACUSA takes it to, would not work. Americans have a very I do what I want relationship with the law. Actually its more of an Oh shit was that illegal? Oh well.

I’m not the expert on all things wrong with JK’s america so I’m not going to get into that but I have some ideas I wanted to share.

Wand Permits: They are trying so hard to make them a thing, it’s really not a thing. It’s like fetch,

Mostly because the majority of magical american’s don’t use wants. They use other conduits. Oh sure those snobs at Ilvermory and such have wands but they’re private school kids, but my Grandma did just fine with her ring and I am to. Potions and hedge witchcraft as well as wandless magic are much more prevalent.

Money: What do you mean Brit’s have a totally separate currency made up of gold, silver and bronze? We only use eagle feathers and freedom!

But really in america just use the dollar and rest of it, or barter, barter will get you everywhere.

S.o.S: Oh boy. Magical conflicts mirrored and intertwined with regular conflicts.

The Salem Fiasco was in 1692. Immediately afterwards distrust was high and the American Statute of Secrecy was tightened by the British Government.

By the time the Revolution rolled around in 1775 the American magical community had largely forgiven the rest of America (though some still carried a grudge) and moved on to other things, like throwing tea into the harbor and kicking Britain back across the pond.

The S.o.S was overthrown during the revolution and just, never rewritten because why would we want to do anything the British way lol.

MACUSA: MACUSA was founded in parallel to Congress. With representatives from all states/territories/commonwealths. The magical community has their own judicial branch, but is also subject to the common laws of the people.

Prejudice: Part of the reason the civil war (61 years before cannon)  was so bloody was not only because Slave-Owning AM’s wanted to keep their slaves, but because when the Confederacy succeeded they promised that Am’s would have a much larger say in the government.

Slang: Now days American magic users don’t differentiate really. In colonial times Muggle and no-maj were used for people who are now called reg’s if differentiated at all. They will occasionally call themselves AM’s short for American Magic-users but really all of it’s viewed as old fashion.

The DMS:

until the early 1900’s all crime was handled on a state level. then the DMS was formed around the time a team of special agents was given permission to investigate crimes across state lines. When the Special Force was turned into the FBI, the DMS began to morph into it’s sister agency, the Bureau of Magical Investigation, or BMI.

As more magic-related branches of government were formed the Federal Bureau of Magical Affairs, later just the Federal Bureau of Magic or FBOM was formed to regulate them. ( I do not claim credit for FBOM, I saw it somewhere and now can’t find the post)

The fun part:

The Graves family has been involved in most every part of American history, both magical and not, usually on the right side of the law. (Usually; when a Graves goes bad it’s spectacular.)

Alas the Graves Family is One of Those Families. Old Blood, Old Money. He was destined to go to Ilvermory, but before he was old enough to go, he had teachers of all ethnicities because Mama Graves knew the importance of broadening ones horizons 

Percival’s Grandmother was the last head of NYMS. His father was the first head of the DMS and Percy was the first head of the newly renamed, BMI.

Grindelwald set of so many alarm bells, just because he obviously didn’t know How Things Were Done

forgive the rambling but I wanted to share and I know you like FB&WTFT as well as having talked to you before.

Mimi’s addition: YES. SO MUCH YES. The fact that I can understand why JK has developed the American wizarding society and MACUSA the way she has doesn’t necessarily mean I agree with it. I confess to knowing not as much about America as I should, but everything here makes far more sense to me. Fabulous. I embrace your headcanons entirely.

If I had to match up this far more sensible view of American magic with the film, then what I think could be likely is that America’s wizarding society wants to develop naturally as above, but the ICW is crossing arms and tapping feet and basically making a fuss. MACUSA is more an attempt to make allies and placate the broader wizarding world while hiding the fact that yeah no, America doesn’t exactly work in the way you outdated fuckers want it to work, and as far as secrecy goes they crack down in New York because the world watches but other than that their attitude is more “well don’t make too much of a song and dance about it and don’t let Europe notice, mmkay?”

[hiruma-musouka]

It was supposed to be MadaTobi *glares at them* but they weren't talking. I was originally just going to do a StarWars one shot with them but then I went to see Rogue One and my brain got hijacked by world building. I was going to write something else and now have about six other unfinished stories that all managed to go sideways or turn into very kinky porn. I gave into the SakuOro bunny before I missed your next birthday.

ahhh, this is a familiar series of events for me. Muses rebelling explains everything. Good luck with wrangling them: it’s like herding cats.

[blackkatmagic]

You've seen Code Geass!! That was my first anime!!

It’s such a good one! Lelouch is a truly magnificent bastard, and I love him very much. 

[mihrsuri]

⭐

Owls. Totally owls. Harry Potter, the colour blue and curiousity

Send me a ⭐ and I’ll tell you some things I associate with you

[faded-mind]

owlgirl1998 reblogged your photo and added:

Who are they? I need.

Rictor and Shatterstar are a mutant and a mutant/alien who started appearing in marvel in the 90′s as teens mutants at Xavier school (with the bad art and wonky storylines) and even then they were shipped by plenty of people but it was officially only a really close friendship *cough*.

Then Marvel done good (and unexpected) by making them canon years later in 2009 in X-Factor investigations (which is basically a bunch of mutants and ex mutants working/living together as private investigators and that series is awesome it totally deserves a show) with much better art, before forgetting them completely again since then and making them disappear in some of their famous wonky plot-holes... :)

[mission-files]

@nyodrite: You know. Now that I am thinking of the different versions of Spider-Man I can't help but think of Tom as the Spider-son the "baby", Andrew as the "teenager" and Tobey as the "adult"

Nyodrite: ...and kind want all three in one fic where they are a trio of spider-people. Like an au where Tobey is maybe a bit older and they are his kids? (though how they're all named Peter Parker idk)

@owlgirl1998: DO IT

Owlgirl: Peter Parker the 1st, the 2nd and the 3rd

Owlgirl: 1 goes by Peter, one goes by Parker and one goes by Pete

Nyodrite: Or maybe "Peter Parker" is kind of it's own title to inherit along with "Spider-Man"?

Nyodrite: Like maybe when Tobey first finds out he's going to be a dad he somehow manages to make "Peter Parker" a false identity while he changes his name from Peter to Tobey

Owlgirl: Okay

Nyodrite: And when Andrew then Tom become heroes they also become "Peter Parker"

Nyodrite: Also. Imagine Tobey radiating Disapproval™ when Tom meets Tony Stark and the whole Iron Dad shenanigans (he is in no way threatened by his son's idol taking a parental interest in the boy)'

Owlgirl: YES

Nyodrite: Or when Andrew meets and befriends Deadpool (because I alwawys picture him as the one to meet Wade)

Nyodrite: It's kind of like the Flash family of Young Justice

Nyodrite: By the time Tom takes up the mask, Tobey is basically retired

Owlgirl: Omg Andrew meeting Wade, the Shenanigans™

Nyodrite: Also. Andrew and Tom referring to themselves as Spiderlings because they're dorks who think it's cool

Nyodrite: Andrew meeting Wade, going along with Taco Tuesdays and Tobey eventually investigating what his son is doing and realizing he befriended Deadpool.

Nyodrite: Wade trying to make a good impression and being over the moon about meeting the Original Spider-Man (though he is loyal to Spidey and DatAss™)

Owlgirl: *grabby hands*

Nyodrite: omg TOM meeting Wade tho, Tom thinking Wade is really cool and Wade kinda enamored with this smol, excitable spider-baby

Nyodrite: But can you imagine if Tom got into trouble here? Like ther are TWO other Spider-Mans who will come for him, plus Deadpool (and possibly Daredevil because I am a fan of Team Red) along with Iron Dad and whoever Tony calls in.

Nyodrite: Like. Kidnapping Tom would be the stupidest - and last - mistake anyone makes.

Owlgirl: Tom is the best protected superkid in the world

Nyodrite: BUT WHAT IF TONY STILL TAKES TOM WITH HIM AGAINST CAPTAIN AMERICA IN THE CIVIL WAR!?!

Nyodrite: Disapproving Tobey and Protective Older Brother Andrew are not pleased.

Nyodrite: What if meeting the Spider family gives Tony the idea to train Harley Keener as his legacy? Because Tom deserves a super-friend his age and Tony a son he doesn't have to compete for.

Owlgirl: Uhhhh. Dot. YES

Nyodrite: I kinda want BH6 to be involved because Tony would so take Tobey having TWO successors as a challenge. Also. Harley, Hiro and Tom being friends (and nerds or Sciencelings) together.

Owlgirl: Fuck

Nyodrite: Tadashi and Andrew becoming friends and commiserating over their reckless little brothers.

Owlgirl: YES

Nyodrite: At some point Hiro will be a little shit, don his armor and go up to Iron Man and be "I am you, but better".

Owlgirl: The Good Stuff

Nyodrite: I'm thinking that Andrew and Tom inherit their spider powers. And maybe Andrew is slightly stronger while Tom is more flexible?

Owlgirl: Sounds good

Nyodrite: Maybe Andrew also has better instincts/spider-sense then Tom and thus refuses Tony's offer of an upgrade (when he realizes that Tom has an older brother that is also Spider-Man)

Nyodrite: (I think Tony would believe that there were only two Spideys. Mentor and successor. He thought, because of Andrew, that Tom was older {from 17-20ish} instead of the actual 15)

Nyodrite: Anyway. I say that Tom has better resources - because of Tony - an more backup (maybe even a team??) while Andrew is better at solo-ing or partnerships

Nyodrite: Better at fighting and maybe even more spider-like? (because I do love those fics)

Owlgirl: That sounds good

Nyodrite: OMG Venom is a thing in this verse. Imagine though, Venom going after Andrew, no no, Venom going after TOM

Owlgirl: How dare you

Nyodrite: Also Imagine Tobey telling them stories about Uncle Ben and Aunt May, no I guess that May might still be alive but really olde, like Andrew and Tom visit her in a retirement home or something old

Nyodrite: I kind of see Wade getting on fantastically with Aunt May, visiting her in her retirement home and showing no remorse about gossiping about what her nephew and great nephews - who STILL believe she has no idea about this Spider-Man business - are getting up to

Owlgirl: Wade and Aunt May, the ultimate BROTP

Nyodrite: Andrew paying a surprise visit and finding May and Wade having their biweekly tea and gossip

Nyodrite: "ABORT ABORT ABORT" his spider-sense screams at him

Nyodrite: Tom commiserating over it because his spider-sense did the same thing when he stumbled upon Tobey and Tony talking together about safety measures for superhero minors