this girl is breaking. this girl feels cold whenever she reaches into her chest to pull out a word and comes up with damp fingers and an empty mouth. THIS GIRL SHOULDN’T IGNORE PEOPLE WHEN SHE’S BEING SPOKEN TO.

this girl has to kick her foot out as she opens a door. this girl is counting, counting more than she did in elementary school when she walked up stairs bouncing her left foot on every multiple of seven and clicked her tongue every time she reached fourteen.

this girl is tearing her cuticles to shreds and crying every time she realizes she’s hacking away at what used to make her smile. this girl recognizes that’s a good metaphor for her life. this girl is being yelled at for not having good nails, good skin, WHY IS SHE DOING IT? WHY IS SHE RUINING HER NAILBEDS? SHE’S GOING TO REGRET IT WHEN SHE GETS OLDER. SHE KNOWS WHAT SHE’S DOING WRONG.

this girl is crying too much and when she broaches the subject with the only people who could do anything she can’t hear what they say back and it’s because of what she’s talking about but no one listens. the only thing that listens is her head and she’s too absorbed in it already.

this girl’s thoughts move too fast to focus on a conversation, and SHE’S SO SORRY SHE’S NOT FOCUSED LIKE YOU NEED HER TO BE BUT SHE’S DOING HER BEST.

this girl feels bloated every time she eats and would prefer to live on tea and fairy dust, but she doesn’t want to be sick so she works on it. this girl expects the disapproving glares every time she has the courage to eat bite by bite.

this girl is breaking and is trying so much it’s tearing her limb from achy limb and everyone says it’s not enough.

—  THIS GIRL IS TRYING TO PLEASE YOU | swallowedsquall

Styracosaurus, Raul Martin

In the swamp, sounds nestle in small spaces, curl around boggy stumps, and brighten at the turn of a corner. Birds and bugs peep and chirp from latticeworks of branches or within the folds of damp tree bark. And at the styracosaur’s feet, the water speaks and ripples out, undulating in little hills under the duckweed. 

From one tree tumbles the cry of a mother bird—tee-tee-tee-tee-tee-tee-tee—calling to let her fledgling know where the nest is. After another step, the reply of the little bird comes to the dinosaur’s ears—ee-ee-ee-ee-ee-ee-ee. The baby is not far from the mother, just hopping up the next tree over. 

Dragonflies hover by, their beating wings like origami songs. The sizzle of the flies that sip vapor from the nostrils is less lovely. 

Under a mossy branch, black insects with stubby antennae rattle a mechanical pulse. It’s an alien sound, almost too precise and fast to be organic. The bugs hush when the dinosaur nears. Their timpani are not tapped for his pleasure. 

Izuku: Heartbreaker

[this was from a prompt given to me by  @pornosophical . it was originally two prompts but i turned it into one. the idea is fake dating + prostitute/client relationship. enjoy this motherfucker]

It started with a simple question.

Izuku pauses in pulling up his pants. They hang open around his hips, the charcoal grey of them somehow darker against the bright red of his underwear beneath. He reaches up, brushes slightly damp hair away from his forehead and says, “Hey, are you free this Thursday?”

“No,” Katsuki said immediately. He didn’t even look up from his phone. There was an ekans that had spawned in the next room and he was six candies from evolving the one he’d been raising for three weeks.

He can feel Izuku roll his eyes. “Do you want to make a couple hundred dollars Thursday night?”

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Camden Estates Walk

A couple of weeks ago I organised a walk of some of Camden’s best post-war schemes. When I first announced it on my instagram an overwhelming amount of people expressed interest and tickets sold out almost instantly. It’s super encouraging to know there’s so much new enthusiasm for post-war housing. 

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From my camping trip to Acadia National Park, ME (7-9 July 2016). [1] View from the top of South Bubble, [2] looking around while hiking up Cadillac Mountain, [3] Otter Point (I think, although no otters were spotted), [4] Sand Beach. It was a gorgeous, damp, mosquito-laden trip. I itched for almost two weeks.

I spent 6-7 July at Grafton Notch State Park. Also very lovely and damp but far fewer tourists. There might have been 5-10 other people while I passed through. I hiked up to the top of Table Rock, hoping for the promised “spectacular” view, only to find myself blinded by flat gray fog. A fun climb, in spite of this and the slipperiness (I fell a lot because it was raining).

T͙h͙i͙s͙ m͙o͙r͙n͙i͙n͙g͙~

A͙s͙ I͙ shut my eyes.. I go back to that morning light.. There’s a faint smell of baby powder twinkling as if it were floating in the air. His damp neck from this mornings bath, keeps his curl at a perfect ringlet!
Still sitting here it’s a hour late- taking a sip of my mornings coffee I think to myself how marvelous I can still remember every detail of that morning coming onto 25 years ago.

Seven bargain enchanted castles reduced for quick sale

1. Castle in the clouds, location variable. Seemed like a good idea at the time but actually you can’t land a plane on it and it’s a bit high up for a helicopter so getting to the shops is a nightmare. Great for things that can fly and who also like damp fog in their rooms in the morning. Non-steerable. Viewings by appointment, we reserve the right to cancel if the property is drifting near an airport or through a thunderstorm at the scheduled time.
2. Castle cursed with a hundred years of sleep by an evil enchantress. Enchantress was not sure where to apply the spell and ended up casting it at the front door and running away, so if you use another door to go in you are fine. Comes with large pile of sleeping delivery professionals in the front hall. By agreement with the Society for Mystical Post, purchasers will need to turn sleepers regularly to prevent pressure sores.
3. Castle on little legs up in the foothills of the Lost Mountains, uninhabited since shortly after its original enchantment when it became sentient. Castle is now ticklish but most problem areas have been identified and fenced off. Purchaser will need to be resistant to digestive juices to use the main hallway. Purchaser will also need to be able to catch the castle, and to trim its toenails.
4. Floating castle on the South Pole of Jupiter. Amazing views. Usually has oxygen. Would suit responsible, radiation-resistant professional who likes amazing views.
5. Castle on the Western borders of Faerie, on the shores of the nether sea. Built by elves. Elves, who may have been a bit more into dancing and singing and draping themselves over furniture than building, got bored half-way through and hired a dodgy wizard to magic the rest up. Hence most of the towers are illusory and in hot weather they flicker and someone will have to undrape themselves and go and bang on the ceiling to get them to come back.
6. Castle accidentally built on tail of hibernating dragon. One initially careless, now exceedingly careful owner. Must sell before Spring.
7. Charming, bijou basement castle-ette. Basically like a full castle but without the above-ground parts. Would suit open-minded torture professionals, minor abominations and aspiring villains. Newly installed bathroom suite. Dogs welcome.  

Wolf Chow (closed thread)

[ @marshmallowcrow ]

Aryn was on a rampage.

To an outside observer it didn’t seem much of a rampage- just one young man with an overburdened backpack, armed with a hunting knife. But Gods help any monsters who dared to get in his way.

He was leaving Silent Hill and nothing could stop him. Fuck this town, fuck its God, fuck the Order, fuck the Otherworld. Fuck everything for playing on his biggest fear so well even his failsafe had betrayed him at first.

He approached the ‘cliff’ at the end of the road out without even faltering in his momentum. If he fell to his death? So fucking be it. His foot hung out over the void…

Caught by pavement. Rough, old, scarred pavement and the smell of cold damp air free of the ever-falling ash. Rain. Rain that landed on his bare forearms like pinpricks of ice and soaked into his hoodie, rain that renewed his vigour to find new shelter.

Rain that made the tears rolling down his face feel like lava. He decided he didn’t care. There was a town gate ahead. It looked ancient but even abandoned places could protect you from the rain.

He heaved it open. He continued his march without stopping-

At least, until he heard the telltale snarl of something canine from behind. No. Something formerly human. Followed by the padding of paws.

Between the spin on his heel and the force with which he swung the arm holding the knife, the lycanthrope he’d just slashed into was knocked onto its back and showered him in warm, rancid blood. Only the raising of his arm prevented it from splashing into his mouth or eyes.

He whirled himself completely around to face the wolf and flipped the knife underhand. “If that’s how it’s gonna be-”

anonymous asked:

I need a little help. Whenever I put on makeup it always looks like a mask on my face. I usually apply my foundation with a damp beauty blender and i bake to make sure there is no creasing. don't know what to do.

Can anyone help?

lavender-suggestion  asked:

Eudora stops by Eidards tower after arriving back in the kingdom. His place always feels more like home than her own, and she takes a deep breath, enjoying the familiar scent of pine and damp dog. "I'm back!" she announces, not really expecting anyone to answer. Eidard is probably off somewhere in the kingdom as he so often is.

“Merde!” She hears from somewhere near the kitchen’s floor of the tower. There’s a loud crash and some panicked shuffling as well as loud barking and a few more French obscenities. 

“Eudora! Come in, Señorita, I was just cleaning up!” There’s the sound of coughing and then a moan. “Actually, could you wait a moment in the living room?”

England, and from what I hear, Europe, is undergoing a heatwave.

Temperatures in the UK are around 30°C. Where I am it’s gonna hit 32°C in the next couple of hours.

To you Americans, you Australians, that’s nothing. It’s a mild day, we’re weak, whatever, I’ve heard it all, the thing is, WE AREN’T EQUIPPED TO DEAL WITH THIS.

The average temperature in the UK in July is 17°C. It is in the 30’s today. We simply are not used to it. We are used to rain and sleet and hail and wind, not heat. And our heat is a damp heat. A humid heat.

Because of all the sea around us we have an extremely humid climate if it gets warm. The air literally feels heavy right now. I am struggling to cool down because the humidity is fucking with my sweat, and as a trans man, the high amounts of water in the air, combined with my binder make it difficult to breathe, and I assume a lot of asthmatic people have a similar problem.

When temperatures in the UK are like this, people die. Don’t laugh about it. It is serious. It may not seem like much to you, it may not seem warm to you, but in a similar heatwave in 2013, 760 people died.

Our infrastructure is not built to cope with this. The house I live in, for instance, was built when the Thames still used to freeze over. It was built to be warm. The walls are thick, the windows are small, some rooms don’t even have windows that open, it was built with no though to air circulation, and this is one of the most common types of home in the UK. The UK government subsidises insulation. People fill every gap in their home with stuff that will keep the heat in. And nobody - literally nobody - has aircon. A lot of businesses don’t even have it. We have no use for it 99.9% of the time. Hell, I don’t even own a desk fan or even a hand held fan.

It is very different here to where you are. And we are used to and equipped for very different things. Instead of laughing, teach us how to stay cool. Instead of making jokes or quips, make info posts, and things that will help us.

Remember, this may be an average day to you, but to us it’s a heatwave. We cannot cope. And for some, particularly children and the elderly, it’s literally a matter of life and death.

Bread poppet

Ah yes… I believe that its time to bust out a combination of two of my favorite things: curses and bread. 

  • The first thing you will need is a bread recipe. A simple, cheap bread recipe will do but I favor ones that have a dramatic rise where it gets nice and bloated as it bakes.
  • After after the first rise, give that dough a good, hard punch. Really give it what fer. 
  • Now you’re gonna mix in some bird seed. A good handful of bird seed. Mix it thoroughly. 
  • Get out a flat baking sheet and start forming the bread loaf in the shape of a body. Start with the torso, add arms and legs, and then the head. Don’t worry if it doesn’t look exactly like your target. Its not going to. Instead, what you’ll do is write their name on a slip of paper, or print out a photo of them. It helps a little to have the paper slightly damp. 
  • Before putting your poppet in the oven, slit his stomach and put the photo or name paper in there, along with an extra helping of birdseed. Pinch it closed. 
  • Put your poppet in the oven. Let that guy bake. 
  • When your poppet is baked, set him out to cool. 
  • Once he’s cooled, put him out where squirrels can find him.
  • Watch him get ripped apart.