face down photos

Alright, so I’ll keep this photo op story short and sweet. I absolutely loved the episode “Regarding Dean” this past season (on that note: dear show, please give Jensen more opportunity to challenge himself, he talked with so much joy about that episode today) and especially the bunny moment, so when I stumbled upon this pillow a few weeks back, I couldn’t resist to buy it thinking of using it for my Jensen op. And needless to say, I did use it and I do really love the outcome, though I am not entirely happy with my mouth, but shhhh, just ignore that! ;)

Anyway, so I walk up to Jensen and probably speak wayyyy too fast due to nervousness and he looks at me intently while I try and tell him in ultra speed that “I absolutely loved the episode and the bunny scene and that I wondered if we can take a picture together all cuddly” and he just goes: “DONE!”, smiles at me and pulls me into a hug. The picture is taken and while I go back he smiles once more and I say thank you so much and he says “thank you”. And I’m just thinking what on earth would you need to thank me for? :’) But it was very sweet and probably made me blush quite a bit.

Happy #SyndullaSunday with an eversoslightly different photo!

Eridian Revenge Hex ✂

Eris is named for the Greek goddess of discord, chaos, and strife - that being said, other associations include revenge, jealousy, rivalry, and power. Use this hex to seek revenge on a target, only to be lifted if they ever learn their lesson.


  • A mirror
  • A taglock for your target - in this case, a photo of them would be best
  • A box big enough to fit the mirror
  • A piece of tape
  • Storm water


  • Anoint the edges of the mirror with storm water in a counterclockwise motion
  • Meditating on your intent, tape the taglock to the center of the mirror face down, to where the photo is facing the mirror
  • Place the mirror in a dark box or container - this represents the isolation and misery they will feel for their wrongdoings - seal the box
  • When you think they’ve learned their lesson you can then remove the mirror from the box, throw away the taglock, and cleanse the mirror


anonymous asked:

is the snaggletooth tag full of the same coyote? :0

oh my god. i assumed not even though they all look very similar, but out of curiosity i just went back and looked to see if the photographers mentioned the location the photos were taken and… all of them were taken in point reyes, CA. so it probably is all the same yote! how neat!!

i actually live just about 2 hours from point reyes and have been there a couple times, i must go back and find Snaggletooth the coyote!!


Here it is! Me and Deano!

Probably not even a second after the photo was taken, Dean went “oh wow you’re tall!” and stood on his toes, then stopping the staff people and asking if he blinked (with the intention to make them redo the photo if he did).
(He hadn’t blinked)

So yeah. I’m still kinda going “!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” in my head. He was so sweet! (And his panels were just awesome! :D)

The battle of the Mullets.

Okay. So Matt almost has a mullet. So what if his hair grows our more by the time he meets the rest of the gang. Lance looks at Matt then Keith when they first meet Matt and then says “Matt. You seem like a cool dude so I’m afraid there’s only room for one mullet in this group so you and Keith will have to duke it out.” Then Keith is like “I hate to agree with him but he kinda has a point.” Can there please be a picture of this?? I could TRY (emphasis on try) to draw it but I know you guys have a whole lot of artsy talent so feel free to steal this idea!!

Thx classmate for photobombing me now everybody can see how short I am

I am a huge fan of @watsonshoneybee‘s writing, and recently read “carrying up his morning tea.” This is one of the most poetic and beautifully written fics, and I am enamored with the way the writing is so lyrical and emotionally moving. It moved me so much that I just had to write a poem, though it is nowhere near as good as the fic itself. So here it is!

mourning tea

Being lost, feeling adrift. The force of a tide, sweeping, pulling, once controlled, but it was an illusion. A magic trick filled with spells that cost an invisible fortune, only now coming to light as the magic crumbles and dries. It flakes away until there is nothing left, nowhere to hide. Reality used to be an illusion and fantasy, actuality, but now reality has settled in, burrowing deep and settling into weary bones. A shattered tea set, packed in a box, the chipped flowers still in bloom despite their brokenness. Death packed away, but still lingering, the musty scent of reminiscent perfume that used to hang in the air. It can’t ever be packed away, though, for it slips through the cracks and permeates the refrigerator and the sofa and the scones until everything tastes of ashes and the body at the mortuary no one could visit. Lungs burning, the chronic pain pressing on a chest that is made imperfect by that small pink scar. A long removed bullet still striking the impenetrable heart that doesn’t actually exist. Or rather, was burned out long ago, not at a chlorine-and-adrenaline, blue-tiled pool, but rather a Clair-de-la-Lune, sleek-metaled office building. Heart stopped but stuttering back to life for a ghost with a wife and daughter. Mold growing, sliding up the walls, vibrant wallpaper now a mockery of past lives and missed opportunities. Missed, but not missing, still apparent in the face down photo laying on the mantle. Life goes on, but is it life, because no one is living. Surviving is not living, just the intake of breath and requirement of oxygen. A folded white envelope sits, waiting, downstairs on the wood table of the flat that belongs to the dead. Unopened, unassuming, unfulfilled, an escape. One never taken because ghosts still haunt derelict survivors, pulling apart lives and unboxing shards of tea sets. Never letting up, stilted texts, some replied to, some unanswered. Always read. Ghosts can’t be ignored, preying on the lost, all that is left under the thick crocheted quilt that smells only of unimportance and death. 

Yeah, so, hmm, throwing this out here, it’s the beginning of an Andreil AU where Neil made the call to his uncle after his mom’s death, which means he never went to PSU. It means gangsters and all that, a bit of a dark take on the boys and all.


“And there’s all these cafés and bars just a few blocks down the street, you can get on the subway as well or take a train, it’s a great location,” Nicky chattered to a jet-lagged Andrew. “Erik and I fell in love with the place!” He motioned to the tiny room after he threw open the door. “Well, here it is, your new home!”

Andrew looked at the twin bed, the only thing which would fit into a space that one really should be calling a closet and not a guest room, then set down his suitcase. “Great, now get out.”

Nicky’s grin slipped. “All right, so it’s not much, but we were lucky to find the place, really.” He sighed when Andrew just continued to stare at him. “You know where the bathroom is, towel’s on the bed, we’ll try not to disturb you in the morning and help yourself to anything in the fridge.” He made as if to approach Andrew then thought better of it. “I’m… I’m glad you’re here, really.” He offered Andrew a nervous smile. “Things will work out, you’ll see.” Then he finally got the damn hint and left.

Keep reading

Visiting Past

Part 1

By: dinrovachaos

Author Notes: I had a plan to pre-write this whole thing but I finished part 1 today so I’m just going to post it anyway. I’m going to try for one a week but I have motivation/procrastination issues so don’t be too concerned if I miss a week. Hope y’all like something a little longer.

Warnings: Death and drugs mention. That’s it. This one is kinda tame.

Keep reading