"on the third day of em-mas the world gave to em: four englishmen singing, lovely striped tigers, and one game of thrones."
 

november third 2012
 
dear em,
 
i didn't know what characters you liked and did not like andwhat these pictures are. i just like emilia clarke's face and she's pretty so here you are
 

xo
claire
 
@marauders-and-prongs

"on the second day of em-mas the world gave to em: four englishmen singing and lovely striped tigers"
 
november second (even though it's the third) 2012
 
dear em,
 
here are some tigers. i hope they don't eat you
 
xo
claire
 

{sorry this was late D:}
 

@marauders-and-prongs

"on the first day of em-mas the world gave to em four singing british men."
 
november first 2012
 
dear em,
 
i give you the beatles
 

xo
claire
 

ps: sorry this took forever; i honestly forgot, but you have it now.
 
@marauders-and-prongs

saw some of these.
so i decided to make one of my own
 
*look at all the fucks i give*

@marauders-and-prongs
 
-
 
jensen frowned a bit to herself, looking in the mirror, fixing the plaid skirt that she wore. it hit her just at her mid-thigh, mostly because her legs were so long, but as she was basically shit at sewing and tailoring, she had no idea how to fix it. frowning a bit, she turned back to her bed, deciding to pair it with a pair of white stockings. that had to help a bit. plus, it was freezing, so. her phone chirped, and jensen couldn't help the tiny smile that curved onto her lips. that would be tristan. he'd taken her out to get a phone since she hadn't had one, and he quite enjoyed texting her.
 
while she stuffed her feet into her black flats, she read the text.
 
~morning. i probably won't be able to talk to you today. i have to go back to work. ):~
 
smiling a bit to herself, jensen slipped on the grey cardigan over the crisp white button down, shooting back a quick text. ~do not worry about it. i have things to do today anyhow. why is it so cold here? can it not be warm all the time? i am displeased.~
 
putting her bag over her shoulder, jensen headed out into the cold january air. thankfully, the school wasn’t too far from the tiny house she rented, and that would be cut down by her bike. it was a bit awkward in a skirt, but jensen managed, finally getting herself situated and heading off toward the school, pedaling a bit slowly. her gears were unhappy from the cold. plus, if she went any faster she would basically freeze her face off, so.
 
~
 
finally, jensen was slipping her bike into a slot in a designated rack, kicking some snow off her shoes with a grumpy frown, looking at her phone and almost immediately brightening, sending a text back to tristan saying that she’d just biked and now she couldn't feel her face. stupid america. snow. ick. wrapping her arms around herself and trying to shake some ice crystals out of her long, wavy hair, jensen walked into school, ignoring the blatant stares from some of the people. thankfully, it was warm inside the building and with the help of an overeager blonde girl, she found the office and got her schedule.
 
~
 
the rest of the day was filled with primarily texting tristan and being increasingly infuriated with school. it was stupid. she couldn't get up to use the restroom when she wanted and teachers always called on her and made her introduce herself. people waned to know where she was from and who she was. it was really overwhelming. she hoped in vain that her last hour, english, would be better, but she highly doubted that. literature was a very weak point for her, as much as she hated to admit it.
 
~ is it not obvious that i hate everyone? why must people insist on approaching me? do you happen to know a place i can hide if i kill someone? ~
 
after hitting send, jensen walked into her english class, surveying where she could sit. that same blonde girl that had helped her find her seat waved her over, and jensen let out a sigh before pointedly going and sitting on the opposite side of the room. not putting up with anymore of that shit. nope. crossing her legs, she brought out her agenda, glancing up when she realized that the blonde girl had followed.
 
“you know, mr. reynolds, he was in that shooting at the diner. i dunno if you knew that, but he was, and he’s only just now coming back. it is semester, but-”
 
and then jensen heard it. tristan’s voice. “all right class. i know you’ve heard about everything, so let’s just get down to it.” eyes wide, jensen looked up, and their eyes met. oh.
 
fu-ck.

@marauders-and-prongs
 
-
 
it had been three months since roxy had came to new york and met xavier, charli, tony, sam, and jason. it had basically been a whirlwind. between trying to acclimate to people and being around them, getting used to new food, learning a few things, figuring out what she was good at, trying to get a job, and trying to figure out who she was, roxy had had a tough go about it. it was an experience, though, one that no one else got to have. she'd gotten a job at a local bistro that she started the following week, and had figured out she was good at art. drawing and painting and sculpting. that was absolutely delightful to her. she liked burgers, but wasn't a huge fan of cakes or things that were too sweet. it had been quite swell, other than having ill-fitting clothes due to charli's busy schedule (not like she knew what to do).
 
this weekend, though, charli had taken her on a little shopping adventure. nearly sunup to sundown. she'd taught her little things about girly stuff. where to put perfume to make it last longer, how to walk in heels, how to flirt, how to sit properly, how to apply makeup, how to do things with her hair. it had been a very eventful weekend, and she was pretty sure that now she had about eight hundred pounds of clothes…and shoes. and makeup. and perfume. charli basically knew everyone. roxy had had things done to her that she honestly had no idea could be done. oh, she'd also learned how to shave. that was interesting. her legs were covered in knicks. they'd bought some stockings to cover that up, though. charli said she had a pretty body, especially since she’d put on about twenty pounds or so, but roxy wasn't really sure. if xavier said it, maybe she'd believe it, but she didn’t think he would. he’d been bringing that pretty blonde around.
~
 
roxy waited in the elevator with charli, holding quite a few bags, though most of her things would be delivered later on, nervously playing with her hair that sat in perfect waves on her shoulder. she had a bit of makeup on, pink on her lids, dark mascara on her eyelashes, just to bring out the brightness and the size of her eyes, and her lips were smeared in a dark-ish pink, her skin tone smoothed out with some goop that charli said was foundation. roxy didn’t really care what she put on; it made her look and feel pretty. she hoped xavier would notice. as they walked down the hallway, roxy nervously smoothed her hands over her hips, adjusting her shirt a bit and tucking her newly mid-back length hair behind her ear and walking in with charli, keeping her footsteps light.
 
sam and jason were at the kitchen table, arguing about something, and tony was moping on the couch, but perked and ran to charli when she came in, kissing her all over. finally, she spotted xavier walking down from the loft with that pretty blonde. looking at her feet, roxy turned them inwards slightly on each other, timidly looking up at xavier as he stopped to take her in. roxy tried to read his expression and see what he thought, but she really wanted to know. did he think she looked pretty? nervously, she fiddled with a lock of her hair as he stood there silent, her toes curling a bit in her shoes, trying to fight the urge to bolt. he thought she looked horrid, didn't he?

@marauders-and-prongs
 

seven months. it had been seven months since charli had told him that she was pregnant. when they'd gone to her first appointment, he'd been in love with the tiny blueberry on the screen. now, seven months later, that blueberry was a full-fledged baby who tony swore had his nose. although he'd whined and complained, wanting to tell charli what sex the baby was, she refused. he knew, though. unfortunately. he could read an ultrasound. they were having a girl. a perfect baby girl with charli's eyes and his nose and her big smile. there was no doubt in his mind. his daughter had him wrapped around her little finger and she hadn't even been born with.
 
sure the last few months had been rough with the morning sickness and the cranky!charli but it had bee the best seven months of his life. he happily ran to the store to get her the foods she craved and he loved seeing her stomach grow with his baby. his baby. their baby. their baby girl. their daughter. it made his heart warm to think about it. he was pretty sure he was going to cry when he first saw her.
 
wow. he was such a pu-ssy. but that was okay. because he was going to be a daddy.
 
walking into the house, tony called out a loud greeting, walking into the kitchen where charli was awkwardly trying to get something out of the oven. "woman," he reprimanded, giving her a pat on the bum and taking out the cookies for her and putting them on the counter. he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her neck and greeting her softly before crouching down and looking at her belly, gently holding it between his hands.
 
"that's our baby," he said with a grin, taking her hand and poking her belly with the other. he was greeted with a foot and he grinned. "hey kid." he chatted absently to the baby about something he'd done at work today before looking up at charli with warm, adoring eyes. "kid loves my ass already." with a small kiss to her belly, he straightened. "how was your day, gem?" he asked, pushing her hair gently back from her face. she looked miserable, honestly. she could hardly walk - it was more of a teeter - and she was absolutely huge. but that was okay. he loved her. maybe even more. because his baby. their baby. daughter. squee.

i wouldn't if i were you
i know what she can do
she's deadly, man
she could really rip your world apart.
mind over matter,
oh the beauty is there,
but the beast is in her heart.
meneater {hall and oates}
 
-
 
@marauders-and-prongs
 
-
 
that right there is dr. temperance regula tanzer. as a kid, she bounced back and forth between her parents in frankfurt and berlin. two years ago, she moved to manhattan. they went together like caviar and vodka, like champagne and lace. cardiothoracic surgery is her calling, but she was refused a fellowship because she was lacking in 'heart'. so now, she's got to do a year of GP in the tiny, southern town of bellemont, alabama. she's technically a high-functioning sociopath. she knows that the things she says are rude or cold, but she says them anyway. she has no regard, really, for people's feelings.
 
-
 
temperance had never been south of staten island, and now she was quite literally in the middle of nowhere. the south. the *deep* south. like, with inbreds and banjos and people with no teeth. she was disgusted just by the thought. the bus had let her off *three miles* from the town of bellemont, alabama, and she was pretty sure that something was following her. there were bugs making noises and animals scuttling out in the waist-high grass. grass. itchy, green, pretty-jean staining grass. ugh. temperance hated the outside. she wanted to be back in her apartment in new york.
 
finally, she caught sight of a town just ahead. her pace quickened a bit, and she walked into the town square. wow. she didn't even know that was a thing. it was so *small.* good god. two restaurants (one was a bar) a beauty shop, a place to buy dresses, a post office. one of everything. all in about two or three blocks. running her fingers through her hair, she sighed quietly to herself, putting her glasses atop her head. what was the address to her new pace, again? she pulled the slip of paper out of her pocket, deciphering the real-estate lady's handwriting. 101 stonewall street.
 
for a while, she wandered, trying to ignore the stares she was getting from the people who milled around the streets. finally, she was in front of 101 stonewall street. brick. columns. a white picket fence. wrap around porch. lanterns. good god. nudging the gate open, she walked up the bricked path to the front of the house. no key. fantastic. incompetent people. you'd think you'd need a fucking key to get in your house.
 
leaving her bags at her front door, she walked over to the house next to hers, her hips swinging confidently, no longer hindered by trying to balance her bags. skipping up the steps, she knocked on the door, placing her hands on her hips, looking around with a bit of worry and quite a lot of disgust as she waited for the person to answer the door. irritated, she knocked again, then rang the doorbell. she'd heard people in the south were slow, but christ almighty.

@marauders-and-prongs
 
-
 
she'd put it off all day. it was finally time for her to leave, but she had put it off. not that she wanted to stay in the hospital, but the idea of going home to a lonely, cold house really wasn't appealing. she'd become accustomed to seeing tristan and abbey reynolds. it would be a very boring existence from how on. well, no more boring than her initial life. she'd just have to adjust again. she didn't want to admit that she did quite like the pair of them. opposite of her in every single way possibly, but it was good.
 
lightly, she perched herself into the wheelchair, letting the male doctor - alex, was his name; he quite fancied her - wheel her outside. he chatted with her, but she stayed rather silent, looking at her converse, the only thing that she was wearing from that first day. her blood was still on the white toes. awesome. her other clothes had been pitched due to the huge amounts of blood. so that was great. not.
 
finally, alex left and she was left alone, waiting for the taxi, looking down at her nails and the chipping purple paint, sighing quietly. running her fingers through her hair, she looked up, checking for the taxi. instead, she saw a familiar, tall figure walking out from the hospital. a very small smile turned up her lips, but she quickly pushed it away, looking back to her lap, holding her things closer to her. she was slightly hidden away, so he hadn't seen her, and she wouldn't bring his attention to her. it was best if she got used to being alone again. except for the days that she had PT. the same day as tristan. starting next week, for her. that would be her treat. she flicked her hair over her shoulder, her eyes going up to look for a taxi, eyeing tristan as he walked to his car in the first handicapped spot near the entrance.

@trollin-in-the-city
 

thinking we start when your male comes home and my female is there and she's already assumed her sister's identity?
 
also:
names?
thinking the sister's name'll be cara or maybe leah?
and then her name is ahm….eve or amie?
 
what do you think?
those are just tentative for now. :3