flake off

Last weekend I found a wave 1 fashionistas Barbie and another one of these sparkly green princess dresses at our Goodwill. This dress is in a little worse condition than the previous one, just some of the ribbons coming loose and sequins flaking​ off. Still no idea where they come from, no tags in the dress. I really like them tho.

And the Fairytopia head got the Fashionistas body. :3 it’s not a bad match irl!

anonymous asked:

“you’re really invested in your tv show/book/etc and i don’t think you understand how much your absentminded petting is getting to me but like hell am i gonna ask you to stop“ !!

Poe has a thing about his hair. Touch it and he purrs. Pet it, he melts. Pull it… well. Yeah. That’s… yeah. His hypersensitivity has never been an issue before. People who get close enough to get their hands all up in his curls are generally doing so with pretty specific intentions, and even if they’re not, they learn fast how the tide’s rolling. 

But then people aren’t Finn.

Finn who learns scary fast, but is still playing catch up when it comes to a lot of social cues, particularly those centred around touch. Poe has a feeling Finn might have been a tactile person anyway—takes one to know one—but growing up in an insulated body glove obviously hasn’t done him any favours. 

These days Finn touches everything - fingers tracing the gouges in the mess hall tables as he eats, palms pressing against the bark of the megaflora that surrounds the new base like he can feel the sap pumping if he concentrates hard enough. Poe finds it both endearing as hell and teeth-grittingly motivating during those missions he gets the First Order square in his crosshairs.

Finn’s not as physical with people yet — or at least not ones he doesn’t know well. Poe’s obviously not in that category though, which brings him back to his current predicament. 

Finn’s leaning back against the head of the bunk, a data pad propped on his knees as he reads something distracting enough that he hasn’t noticed what’s going on with Poe yet. Poe’s not really sure if that’s a blessing or a curse, to be honest. Because on the one hand, Poe probably looks a special kind of stupid right now, processor parts forgotten on the floor in front of him as he all but drools into his own lap. On the other, if Finn keeps this up too much longer, Poe’s libido is going to start knocking insistently on the situation and that’s… not ideal.

Because Finn’s his friend. Finn’s his friend who’s still learning what it means to have friends and Poe doesn’t want to fuck that up for him. Which means Finn’s deft fingers twisting through his hair and scratching lightly against his scalp is fast becoming A Problem.

Finn hums lightly behind him—a noise Poe’s come to associate with him reading something particularly interesting—and Poe has to bite his lip against humming for his own more inappropriate reasons as Finn’s fingers card through the closer cropped curls at the nape of his neck.

Poe clears his throat. Then has to try again when he almost whimpers instead. “Ah, buddy?”

“Hmm?”

Finn’s petting doesn’t even pause. Poe’s done nothing to deserve this sort of temptation.

“I’m ah… getting a little distracted down here.”

Understatement.

Finn’s touch halts but he doesn’t pull his hand back and Poe finds himself swallowing hard against the instinct to push back into Finn’s palm.

Finally Finn says, “In a good way or a bad way?”

And that’s… huh. Poe cranes his neck back to look up at Finn’s face and finds a soft smile waiting for him, Finn’s eyes amused and… knowing.

“Fuck,” Poe says. “Who told?”

Finn huffs a laugh, thumbing lightly behind Poe’s ear. “Jess.”

Of course it was Pava. Poe would be annoyed but the way Finn’s looking at him as he smooths his fingers back through his hair, he has a feeling he’s gonna end up buying her a cake.

Poe lets his eyes flutter shut as he feels Finn’s movements turn deliberate, fisting a grip at the back of his head and… yeah. Shit. Poe’s breath catches which is probably the only thing that saves him from flat out moaning.

“You should come up here,” Finn says, voice drawn tight and Poe would be relieved he’s not the only one affected here but he’s too busy giving himself over to Finn’s very nice, very competent hands.

“I should definitely come up there,” Poe says. He’s about to get right on that when Finn’s grip shifts and twists and Poe’s hips go rogue, bucking instinctively up and fuck, he’s hard, when did he get hard?

“Oh wow,” Finn says. “Jess wasn’t kidding.”

“I’m gonna kill her,” Poe says, strangled.

Finn laughs like he’s just so delighted and Poe would bask in the warmth of it but Finn’s also taken it upon himself to manhandle Poe up onto the standard-issue mattress, a move that makes an entirely different sort of heat suffuse Poe’s limbs.

Force, did Pava just write out an itemised list or something?

Poe finds himself flat on his back, Finn braced over him, grinning like Poe’s a new dessert he has yet to try. It puts Finn’s very nice shoulders in optimal clutching range and Poe isn’t going to shirk that opportunity, no sir.

“Hi,” Finn says softly and Poe realises he’s grinning so wide his cheeks hurt. Fuck he hasn’t felt this stupid for someone since…ever.

“Hi back.”

Finn dips down, mouth dizzyingly close and Poe very nearly whimpers when he stops just short of his lips, because fuck.

“I ah… you should probably know I have no idea what I’m doing,” Finn says, and ah, that answers that question then.

Poe slides his hands up to scritch through the hair where it’s growing out at the nape of Finn’s neck, easing the nervous tension the best way he knows how.

“Well,” Poe says, struggling to gather his thoughts in the face of Finn humming into his touch like a spoiled loth-cat, shit. “We can slow our roll a bit. Pull back and talk a few things through…”

“Or?” Finn says, dipping toward Poe’s mouth again like a faulty grav drive. The move brushes their noses together, something that probably shouldn’t make Poe’s toes curl but here they are.

“Or,” Poe swallows harshly against the instinct to just tip his chin up, turn things wet and hot and fast, but no - this is Finn’s show. This needs to be Finn’s show. “We can wing it. Do what feels right, speak up when something doesn’t…” 

Finn’s eyes snap back up to his at that and Poe very nearly chokes on the want behind the look. “You’ll show me how?”

Fuck. “Yeah,” Poe says, and he’s gonna need some sort of award for how steady his voice is here because seriously. “Yeah, I’ll show you how.”

The smile that slips across Finn’s features is like a sunrise, slow and syrup sharp. Poe wants to taste it. “We’re gonna do this.”

It’s not a question, but Poe answers it by meeting Finn’s mouth on a groan anyhow.

this book is cute and I’ve had it since I was a kid but upon further looking, her feet have like….uncanny palms drawn like human metacarpals. i dont think i’ve seen another case like this exactly, but misunderstanding bird feet is not uncommon

judging on surface value, using comparative anatomy it’s easy to come to the conclusion that birds could have a rather similar structure as mammals (pardon my flaked off nail polish)

but of course birds are birds therefore they need to be needlessly complicated. what you are really seeing in those specimens and the scaled part of a bird’s legs are essentially just the bones we have as our wrist and hand (well, more specifically ankle and foot because hind limb)


and of course birds can’t stop there, we need an assortment of weird toe arrangements too

Bitty is used to wearing Jack’s jersey—he usually wears his Zimmermann t-shirt to bed every night, because that’s the only moment he can get away with it without the other guys chirping him about it. Sometimes he’ll wear his long-sleeved Falconers sweatshirt to class, and if anyone asks he’ll just say that it’s getting chilly outside and that his other cardigans are all in the wash. He doesn’t mind making excuses, not if it means he gets to have a piece of Jack with him for the day.

He likes wearing them in front of Jack, in person or on skype, because Bitty finds that he likes to wear his pride, likes to wear his heart on his sleeve. He loves the little fond look Jack gives him whenever the skype call connects and Jack first notices his shirt.

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in another world, when you are loved, you grow wings  to show it. the bigger the love, the bigger the wings. 

and a world that sees wings as the ultimate status symbol. celebrities with gigantic wings that cannot fly because they are too heavy. monarchs that have stylists to enlarge their (very stumpy) wings. 

babies born with the soft proof of their parent’s love, babies flaking off feathers when their parents don’t care enough. teenagers who watch their wings flake and grow every day, never sure who loves them or doesn’t. having your crush figure out you like him because his wings won’t stop fluffing up. 

bullies who fake having large wings, who hurt others because they never felt whole, who go home and try to wish their feathers into growing. gentle, soft people who have long wings they’re embarrassed of, who tuck them and try to be average because they don’t like showing off. 

weddings where there’s so much love in the room everyone’s wings swell up. the couple having perfectly matched wings which don’t stop their steady growth. waking up next to your husband of six years to find he’s gone and all your feathers have fallen off.

a girl who is pushed down and laughed at for her little wings, her broken home. who knows she’s ugly for it, who feels perfectly alone. who one day walks into a room with another girl who happens to complement her shirt and within six days has become the closest friend she’s ever learned. her wings spreading big and wide and proud over other people’s heads, her new feathers getting in the way because she’s not used to them, pushing her new feathers out of the way so she can kiss the girl she’s dreamed about.

finding your best friend and watching the feathers sprout. lying awake in bed feeling useless and yet having this proof that someone out there loves you. helping a stranger on the train only to have a few cautious pinfeathers tickle their way out. wondering if they felt that tickle, too.

waking up from a dream very confused, hoping a boy six blocks down doesn’t come into school with suddenly slightly larger wings. ace people with arching wings who are absolutely loved by their friends, who are absolutely loving. your boyfriend promising you that boy he’s flirting with means nothing, finding that your feathers are slowly falling out in the shower each morning. 

having average wings and a sad heart and doing your best to be alive and happy and whole but failing terribly - but working towards it, slowly, until one day you see your wings spreading and get excited about who it could be, who liked you enough to change you this drastically; only to figure out on a tuesday afternoon that it’s you, you’re the one who loves yourself for once; and the thought is so big and wide and lovely that you sit down on the floor and can’t stop crying because despite everything, you made it. and that’s amazing.

Uncle's patient dog poo vengeance.

This is a story about my uncle’s vengeance. My uncle is chill and friendly, but he once had the misfortune of living next to an awful neighbor. The guy actually didn’t have a ton of bad habits, but he did exactly what he wanted to do and he didn’t care who it affected. And one of the things he wanted to do was take his big dog on a daily morning walk and let the dog do his doggy business on my uncle’s lawn.

The first time my uncle caught him, he calmly confronted him and politely requested that the neighbor stop using his lawn as a dog toilet. The neighbor calmly told my uncle to get f*cked: he didn’t care what my uncle thought, there was nothing my uncle could do about it, and nothing would change.

This being 1970s southern California, my uncle couldn’t record the neighbor and shame him online or report him to the police for some litter violation, and although he is a cool uncle, he was in no way physically intimidating enough to get this guy to back down. Every day for a week he went outside to confront the shitty neighbor and his shitting dog, and every day he got the exact same answer: f*ck off, I don’t care, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

On the eight morning, my uncle stayed inside, watching as the neighbor yet again allowed his dog to leave a fudgy dump on his lawn. Then, after the neighbor and his dog had continued on their walk, my uncle grabbed a shovel and went outside. He scooped up the dog shit and, with masterful accuracy, flung it onto the roof of the neighbor’s house. As mentioned before, this being 1970s California, the neighbor’s roof (like all of the houses in that area) had a very shallow slope, and once he saw that the poop didn’t roll off, my uncle headed back inside.

He repeated the exact same procedure every morning… for the next eight months.

Not once did the neighbor notice the steadily growing pile of dog shit on his roof, baking and dehydrating in the California sun. Not once did he smell anything off, nor did he find it suspicious that my uncle still greeted him in a friendly manner after having his lawn used as a dog loo every single morning.

Finally, after eight months, the hot and sunny weather gave way to a massive rainstorm. Within minutes, the entire crusty layer of dog poop shingles rehydrated and broke free, a reeking mudslide from hell that sloshed down onto the neighbor’s property, splattering his lawn, his house, and his car with literal pounds of dog shit. Over the next few days, the neighbor’s grass succumbed to the poison and died, paint began to flake off his car, and the neighbor himself had to finally clean up after his dog once the sunny weather returned and the remnants of the dog poonami began to dry up while still stubbornly stuck to every stinking corner of his house. Tragically, my uncle didn’t take any pictures of the poo-house (I would have loved to have seen that).

From the day after the rainstorm to the day my uncle moved out of that house, he never spoke to that neighbor again… but the dog poop stopped appearing on his lawn for good.

P.R.I.M: Pranks Resulting in Matrimony

Written by: @ghtlovesthg

Title: P.R.I.M: Pranks Resulting in Matrimony

Prompt 28: Noting tension between Katniss and the baker’s youngest son, carefree and mischievous Prim can’t resist pranking her annoyingly uptight and very responsible sister. [submitted by @567inpanem]

Notes: Rated All Ages, Never-reaped!Everlark, Complete. 

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i’m sorry, did you hope i was done with these? ha, no@onceapoet asked for some more krypto headcannons, so part . . i don’t even know anymore

there are two different ways it can go when they take krypto out while it’s raining

  • sometimes it is met with Refusal
  • krypto is a proud, proud dog. how dare kara try to take him out, there’s mud
    • so he does what any dog would do. he plops right down in front of the door when kara tries to urge him out
      • it’s ridiculous. kara shoving against him and just getting an inch further every time. sometimes krypto will move at the last minute and kara will go through the door
        • the first time lena came home and the door was destroyed. she just crouched down and peered through the hole to see kara sprawled out in defeat while krypto sat happily on the couch
          • she doesn’t question it anymore, just orders another one 

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A MODEST PROPOSAL: The frog that Jack develops a crush on is Justin Oluransi. Sequels to this snippet warmly welcomed.


By the time the actual season starts, the hard knot of panic that lives inside Jack’s chest has started to unclench a little. He’s come a long way from the shouting match the first day of training camp; the upperclassmen are a lot less resentful, look to him for guidance sometimes. Shitty has to smooth a lot fewer ruffled feathers. The coaches finally agreed to fire their clusterfuck of a manager and hire on a freshman Shitty found.

And speaking of freshmen…

Ransom and Holster are good. They’re good in a deeply serious way. Holster turned down the AHL to be here; the NHL would be looking at Ransom right now if he’d had the chance to develop in Major Junior, but his parents didn’t want him to lose focus on his schooling. They’re clearly the standouts of their year, clearly second-line material right from the start.

When they’re trooping through an arena concourse before the second game of the season, Ransom catches sight of a Tim Hortons stand and his eyes go wide. He falls out of line and to his knees, gazing at the donuts inside the case with fervent adoration. “I’ve missed you,” he moans. “Oh baby, I’ve missed you.”

Jack smiles.

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WHIPS PT 21

A/N: ahhhhhHHHH 

I’m so sorry this is late lol, and honestly the only thing I have to explain myself is  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

But this introduces more magic styles, explanations and STARTS THE MAIN ARC WOO.

Natsu Dragneel is just an ordinary 21 year old trying to get by on his craft’s business, keep his landlady off his ass, and grow his friendship with his new weird neighbour Lucy. Without revealing that he’s a witch. Or his cat can fly and talk. So maybe Natsu isn’t that normal. Things take a serious left turn for him when people from his past start showing up, and he and Lucy as well as some new -and old- friends travel across Fiore trying to find some answers. But the question is, will they be happy with what they find?

Wiccan!Natsu AU

Pairings: Nalu, Fairy Tail

Words: 5067

Rating: M

Part: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen,Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen, Part Seventeen, Part Eighteen, Part Nineteen, Part Twenty, Part Twenty One

Natsu had shifted Lucy to the couch, still tucked solidly under his arm. Happy had taken it upon himself to tie up the men in the kitchen, each gagged with a rag imbued with anti magic potions. They weren’t particularly good, but Happy had whipped them up himself and they were probably better than Natsu would have been able to make.

He had also left a nasty scratch along the side of the wind witch’s face.

Now the three were huddled on the couch, Lucy refusing to let Natsu out of her grip and Happy unable to stop shaking without the embrace of both Lucy and Natsu.

They didn’t even flinch when Lucy’s door was kicked in.

“Natsu Dragneel you tell me what’s happening right now or- why are there men in Lucy’s kitchen and why is there blood on the wall?”

Natsu looked over Lucy’s head at Erza, seeing the expected fury and concern there. Fuck, he was going to die when he told her why.

“It’s my fault.” Natsu said in a flat, defeated voice. Lucy jolted in his arms, Natsu passively letting them fall off of her.

“Don’t you dare say that.” Lucy hissed, Natsu feeling her glare on his skin. He scrubbed at the side of his face, dried blood flaking off from his chin. Of course Lucy didn’t blame him, the girl was loyal to a fault, and for some reason she thought Natsu was worthy of that devotion. “It is not your fault.”

“Someone tell me what happened.” Erza’s demanding voice cut through, and Natsu pinched the bridge of his nose as he took a deep inhale.

“A couple of dark witches tracked me down. Lucy and I got back here and then they attacked us. Luce saved my ass.” He looked at the top of Lucy’s head with a dry smile. “She ‘xhausted herself summonin’ her mermaid, so don’t be too pushy with her.”

Erza walked around, ignoring the tied up men and crouching in front of Lucy. Her wide brown eyes shot to Erza, confusion surfacing past the dull tiredness. “Why are you talking as if Erza knows about-” Lucy started to question, cut off by Erza’s firm but gentle hand turning her chin left then right, examining her face and neck. Next Erza gathered her hands, thumbs brushing over her bruising knuckles.

“You did good, very minimal damage to your hands without any protection.” Erza complimented. She looked at Natsu, directing her comment at him again. “And you seemed to have done well as the only trained witch against four, including the coven Master. I’ll have to take them into the Council station here, and you’ll have to give a report as well of course.” Erza sighed, straightening at Natsu’s silent nod. He was thankful she wasn’t chewing him out, even if he knew her praise was unwarranted.

“Like I said, Luce had to summon her mermaid spirit, she did a lot of the work too. I’d be dead if she wasn’t with me.”

Lucy’s hand was over Natsu’s mouth as soon as he finished speaking. “And we are officially done speaking about you living or dying, do you understand me?” Lucy’s glare was fierce, Natsu nodding under her unyielding stare before she turned and looked at Erza. “How much do you know about magic?”

Now Natsu shrunk under Erza’s sharp look. “You didn’t tell her?” She asked harshly, Natsu shifting so Lucy’s body was acting as a shield between him and Erza’s wrath. Her hand fell away from him during the shift.

“You said not to!” He defended weakly, quickly followed by a ‘sorry ma’am’ as he hid further behind Lucy. Natsu wondered if he had better odds against suffocation-man than Erza’s death glare.

“Yes but I would have assumed you’d ignore me as you usually do.” Erza said dryly, turning her attention back to Lucy. Her brow furrowed and her gaze returned to Natsu sharply. “You said she summoned a mermaid?”

“A sprite.” Lucy interrupted, shying back when both witches focused on her. “Uh, I feel like Aquarius would kill me if I didn’t correct you on that?”

“You never said she was a celestial witch.” Erza accused, absentmindedly inspecting Lucy’s neck again.

“Well I didn’ know at the time! That stupid fish popped outta her desk or somethin’, and next thing I knew they were basically flockin’ to her from everywhere. Luce said one had been hidin’ in her clock this entire time, I think.” Natsu sulked, chin resting on Lucy’s shoulder.

“You were listening to me.” Lucy said softly.

“I always listen to ya, Weirdo.” Natsu snorted, “I just don’t always, y’know, listen.”

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Where Soul Meets Body- 9

Summary: Soulmate AU. Some people went their entire lives without ever meeting their soulmates. You were one of the lucky ones, to have found and fallen in love with the owner of the initials tattooed on your hip. When your soulmate’s best friend struggles to deal with a tragedy in his own life, you discover that you might not have been as lucky as you thought.

Steve Rogers x Reader; Bucky Barnes x Reader (Not MMF)

Warnings: (Series, not specifically this chapter: bad language, unprotected sex or sexual situations, drinking/alcoholism, drug use, violence, cheating, references to death, mutilation and trauma, maybe more.)

Words: 1085

Author’s Note: Ugh, this chapter took a lot to trudge through. It’s not much but there is a lot coming in the very near future…

Tags at End

Master   Part 8

Originally posted by holy-bucky

The rich scent of coffee greeted you the moment the escalator brought you to the second floor of the bookstore. It swept across the aisles, merging with the smell of new books and Bucky’s shampoo. He went straight to the counter as you stepped into the cafe, leaving you to claim your seats at the table by the window. Easing into the seat, you stared out the glass down to the streets below. The rain had turned the snow into slush, making New York City look as though it had been crying.

Bucky placed your coffee before you, sinking into the chair opposite you. He drank slowly from his steaming cup, following your sight to the street below. Clearing his throat, he stole your attention back as he picked lazily at his pastry. “So,” he started, nostrils flaring. “I guess this is the part where we… Where I apologize. And we pretend like none of this ever happened.”

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anonymous asked:

Hi there! I love your sculpts, they're really amazing. I think you might have answered this before, but do you have any resources about getting started, the type of clay and the tools you need? I'd love to have a go at a few things, but I've no idea how to begin.

I’ve written a few posts on this before (can’t be arsed to find them now) but not very comprehensibly. May as do that well now.

For starters, let’s think about what sculpture is. You can basically divide all the different types of sculpture into two camps: subtractive and additive. Subtractive being where you start out with a block of something hard, and carve away everything that isn’t your sculpture. Additive being you start from nothing and create mass. There are, of course, things in-between but generally speaking you’re looking at subtraction or addition. I won’t delve into the subtractive side now, since it’s a very intimidating place to start sculpting and I think people generally like starting out on the additive side– perhaps a post for another time.

So on to additive sculpture, which is what all of the sculpts on my blog are. You create mass using clay. Sounds simple, right? Not really, especially if you start thinking about it. Every clay is different, every project is different. I obviously don’t know what your projects are, but I can speak to the properties of varying clays and why they might be better or worse for whatever it is you’re doing.

So first, I’ll introduce you to a few types of clays, their properties, and what they’re best suited to be used for. Every one of these clays would be suitable for a beginner to pick up and learn with, IMO, which is why I am including them and not others. It might seem like a bit much, but bear with me– many people don’t know what can be done with clay, much less that there are more than a few types. Becoming familiar with clay of all kinds will better inform what kinds of things you can create.

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Updates on the Barosaurus tail. I was able to clean off more of the sides and most of the bottom. It was very tricky, but pleased that nothing broke or flaked off on the cracks. I’m getting to the edges where we have to be even more careful and find ways to keep it strong without destroying it. Plus they added a new exhibit of Allosaurus’ fighting

9

ɢᴀᴠɪɴ ғʀᴇᴇ ﹣ ғᴀᴋᴇ ᴀʜ ᴄʀᴇᴡ

“If you look closely, you can see the paint is chipped and slowly flaking off. Gav hides behind all of that gold in order to hide the black void underneath. When he moved here from England he was nothing more than a street rat. His dumb ass decided to pickpocket Geoff and take his car keys, but of course Geoff could feel his hand slip into his back pockets. Geoff followed him into an ally in recruited him into the Crew.” 

[3/7/16] 🌿💛📚

what’s in my pencil case?

  1. little sticky tabs: i bought these in one of the 100 yen stores in japan. super useful for sticking on papers that i need to revise, get help with and keep track of!
  2. tombow correction tape, 2.5mm: was given this as a gift from my english teacher in japan. really convenient when i need to get rid of the tiniest of mistakes!
  3. whiper push-pull plus correction tape, 5mm: this was also a gift, but from a relative who visited vietnam. i’ve had so many correction tapes before, these are definitely my favourite.
  4. muji 0.5 gel pens: from a local store in the city. these gel pens are really good for writing notes and they last for quite some time.
  5. mildliner highlighters: they have a pastel coloured pay-off and have two different tips on both ends. 
  6. pentel sharplet-2, 0.5: i love mechanical pencils! they’re so easy to maintain, and you don’t need to sharpen them all the time. however, it is a bit thin and i prefer mechanical pencils that are the smallest bit thicker for a better grip. 
  7. muji 15cm ruler: it’s double sided and really light. so minimalistic too!
  8. 0.5 writing pens: i got these from vietnam when i went a few years ago. i haven’t used any other pens since! they’re really easy to write with. 
  9. muji black eraser: these have a better quality than the white erasers in my opinion! they don’t really ‘flake’ off and get a weird texture to it once you’ve used it for a while. 
What They Found

Summary: Tag to “The Raid.” When Dean and Ketch go investigate the vampire hotel, they run into a familiar face.

Characters: Dean x Reader, Arthur Ketch

Word Count: 1480

Warnings: Angst, mild violence, passing mention of suicide 

Author’s Note: I had a “what if” moment and fell down a rabbit hole. Enjoy!


Originally posted by faith-in-dean

“I checked the upstairs area. This place is a ghost town. You got anything?”

Even being dragged by your arms across from the hard floor of the hotel lobby, you recognize the gruff voice and cringe. It belongs to someone that you never thought you’d see again and someone that you’d never want to see you like this.

“Indeed.” Stiff, British asshole drops your limp body to the floor with a dull thud. “Found her hiding in the basement with the corpses.”

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Myers Briggs Types Angry

ISTJ: A type that is extremely difficult to get upset and even more difficult to show it. If they are mad, they will tend to make snarky comments and show their anger passively or may approach the person directly and pragmatically. While they can move on and forgive, the ISTJ will never forget when someone has wronged them and will hold grudges. What can set them off: stress, disrespecting hierarchy (especially if they feel like you owe them respect you’re not giving them)

ISFJ: This type tends to bottle up their frustration, especially when it is aimed towards those they care about. They might let out their anger slowly, in light hearted but frustrated comments that get their point across without burning bridges. What can set them off: feeling like they’re not acknowledged, hurting someone they are close to

INFJ: Hard to get angry, since they are very loyal and committed to maintaining harmony. However, once they are, beware. INFJ’s will use their astute social perception to bring up each and every one of your flaws, weaknesses, and vulnerabilities and use them to systemically, psychologically bring you down. What can set them off: when you hurt them emotionally (they’re very patient up until their breaking point), insulting a deeply held belief.

INTJ: INTJ’s are easy to annoy; if you ask them, they’ll probably tell you all about how so and so is being extremely stupid. They tend to either hide these sentiments, express them through passive aggressiveness, or only tell those closest to them. When they are really mad, they either explode with rage or channel their anger into an icy cold fury. Terrifying. What can set them off: inefficiency, flaking on plans

ISTP: This type is more apt to express their anger externally than other introverts; cursing, insulting the other person, or expressing their emotions physically (ex: fighting, punching something) are all common. However, an ISTP that has learned self control may not exhibit these tendencies readily. What can set them off: people trying to annoy/upset them, lack of time alone

ISFP: The ISFP internalizes their emotions, and anger is no exception. If they are angry, they will generally only show it by body language, becoming distant, pouting, or other nonverbal cues. Immature ISFP’s (once in a blue moon a mature ISFP may do this around those they now well) may have bouts of anger where they throw fits. What can set them off: other people stepping on their emotions (hurting them or others), limiting their freedom

INFP: INFP’s will not want to upset those around them, so they will generally keep their feelings to themselves, showing only small signs of passive aggressiveness. However, they are likely to blow up once in a while (say, a year or so) releasing their pent up anger. However, this is an extremely rare occurrence. What can set them off: injustice, hypocrisy

INTP: This type will first try to control their emotions, either by using rational thinking to calm themselves down or retreating into isolation for awhile. If these methods do not work (or the INTP is forced to remain around lots of people while they are upset) the INTP may use sharp insults to hurt the other person. What can set them off: persistently bugging them about something, inefficiency

ESTP: This type tends to show what they feel in the moment, rather than processing things internally or wondering how others react. ESTP’s like to get out their anger physically, either by fighting or (in a more healthy way) working out. If not, they will be critical and mean towards others to express their emotions. On the good side, this type doesn’t tend to hold grudges, letting go of their anger as soon as they have let it out. What can set them off: boredom, being confined

ESFP: They generally express their emotions as well, although they may hesitate if they are in a fun environment and want to remain easygoing and pleasant to be around. If they do decide to show their anger it will be overwhelming. Coming off as rather dramatic, the ESFP may cry, yell, or throw a fit, although they will get over it quickly. What can set them off: being controlled/having their freedom to have fun taken away, criticism

ENFP: Determined to maintain harmony in their relationships with others, ENFP’s are prone to avoid conflict. Therefore, they internalize their feelings for the most part. If someone has hurt an ENFP past their breaking point, (depending on how much they value the friendship) they may simply drop the relationship or they may blow up and later apologize to the person. What can set them off: criticism, someone trying to control them

ENTP: When they are annoyed or angry, they will usually display it in the form of calculated, witty insults that they will hurl at the other person. They can get annoyed very easily, and tend to show this. Even if they are happy and are good friends with someone, they may still say jokes and comments that are perceived as mean by more sensitive people. However, the ENTP’s deliberate insults will be few and far between. Once they have made their point, they will move on. What can set them off: close-minded/illogical thought, ignorance

ESTJ: ESTJ’s are known for perhaps having the hottest temper out of all Myers Briggs Types. Their need for efficiency, assertive way of communication, and policy of honesty manifest themselves when an ESTJ is mad. Rather than intending to hurt the other person, they will bluntly state whatever is making them upset (although it may come off as a yell if the ESTJ is worked up enough). If the issue is fixed, the ESTJ will move on without holding a grudge. What can set them off: mainly little details being out of place, carelessness

ESFJ: The ESFJ is fairly good at expressing their negative feelings towards others; even though they value harmony and deeply care about those around them, they may actually come off as blunt or overly critical. Despite this desire to fix issues pragmatically and move on, the ESFJ will hold grudges for very long periods of time if they have been seriously hurt by the other person. What can set them off: not appreciating them, upsetting one of their deeply held values

ENFJ: The ENFJ is difficult to get to show their anger, since it is important to them that they maintain their wide array of friendships. At first, if the ENFJ is angry, they may resemble introverts, become extremely quiet and seeking out a good friend to talk things over with. However, if this doesn’t dissipate their anger, the ENFJ can explode with rage, either criticizing those around them harshly or reacting physically (though they are more likely to punch a wall than another person). What can set them off: when they are taken advantage of/not appreciated, injustice

ENTJ: The ENTJ won’t let feelings of anger influence them if they see it as an unnecessary, irrational emotion in the way of their goals. However, if they do show their anger, it will be in a cold, calculated, concise statement of icy fury. They only need a few calm words to bring down their opponent. What can set them off: others trying to undermine them, inefficiency

ahem

@lears​ found this adorable fic by @drarrytrash​ and then we were discussing how much of a tragedy it is that there isn’t more lesbian drarry and so here is my starting point:

  • draco malfoy the queen lesbian of hogwarts: silver rings on her fingers and her hair cut short and blunt at her jawline; pointy-toed black polished boots that people whisper are dragonskin; looks bored and faintly offended every time a boy talks to her; clean bare nails that she files down short and square; a collection of high-waisted dark green trousers of expensive material that she wears with white silk shirts, folding open over her collarbone; everyone whispers about her buying fancy lingerie but when she stoops down one day in potions it’s just the clear dark line of a cotton sports bra; spends history of magic drumming her fingers on the table and slowly setting everyone on edge; comes back to eighth year hard and tired and unsmiling; has a bad tempered black cat and the slytherins say she talks to it, and the first year slytherins say it talks back; drinks mostly red wine, often cheap, often sour, usually to piss her dad off; taller than crabbe and goyle, now only taller than goyle; excellent eyebrows, thin mouth; looks like she could eat you alive and will.

  • harry potter bisexual hero: same unruly hair as ever except in fifth year when she buzzed it short (only she ended up missing the comparisons to her dad, let it grow out a bit again); oversized t-shirts, oversized jumpers, oversized flannel shirts, no bra; quidditch muscles in her thighs and arms; bitten nails that sometimes have half-flaked off polish that luna’s applied; lugs crates of beer with ron and ginny to drink down by the lake; wears a large oversized denim jacket and breaks sirius’s motorbike out of storage when she’s seventeen; tips back on her chair in class so far that people make bets if she’ll fall out; spends her summers from fifth year onwards going into london and catching the underground nowhere in particular, sitting in fluorescent chippies late at night and eating chips soaked in salt and vinegar; knuckle tattoos; has been known to haul crookshanks up by the scruff of his neck and hold him so his front paws are hanging over her shoulder, and he purrs like an engine; big hands, long fingers, and a hot look in her eyes like she wants to touch you.

  • together: draco straight-backed and mouth-pursed at hogsmeade, and harry ambling easily next to her; draco turns up to ancient runes late one morning in a faded pink sweatshirt that says WITCH LOVING WITCHES: FLORIDA KEYS CAMP 1986 that absolutely does not suit her and glares at anyone who looks at her; harry and draco’s cat in a silent possessive war; double dates with ginny and pansy to quidditch matches, where draco, harry, and ginny scream themselves hoarse and pansy reads her magazine; racing each other across the hogwarts lawn, tackling each other in the trees; apparating somewhere remote and wild and spending four days hiking mostly in silence, harry shouldering a heavy backpack with their tent in it, draco stopping every hour or so to check her map; when they start dating draco abruptly stops making fun of how dishevelled harry always is, and harry doesn’t get it until she notices how much longer draco looks at her now, the way draco skims her fingers along the strip of harry’s stomach where her sweater is riding up, the way draco watches her now like she wasn’t allowed before; much later, a flat with white walls and many plants; plus a huge golden bathtub they sit in together, draco propping her legs up on the rim to shave them (when she feels like shaving them), harry leaning down to kiss draco’s ankle, both of them eyeing each other, smirking, waiting, letting the room get hot and close and tense and waiting to see who’s going to give in and make the first move; and a large windowsill that they use to sit in and get stoned.