go unnatural!

Throwback to that one time in class my theology teacher was telling us how “guys can’t be girls” and “girls can’t be guys” because of reasons she listed that were “scientifically proven” to show the difference between the two and I was relating to most of not all of the masculine actions and thoughts woops

simlaughlove’s BunBun Hair w/Bangs - Recolored!

I just love @simlaughlove​‘s hairs. UwU This is the first batch, be prepared. ;D ❤ I am in the process of recoloring the no bangs ones, they may be out tonight, we’ll see. ❤

Useful Tidbits

- 55 swatches of @wildlyminiaturesandwich Unnaturals and Naturals (all in one pack) PLUS a white, totaling 56 swatches, yay! :D
- Added as additional swatches to the original hair

- **Mesh is needed, get it here (choose the bangs option, of course ;) )***

.:: Download @ SFS ::.

BunBun 0x
BunBun 1x
BunBun 2x


Mesh - simlaughlove | Palette and Actions - wildlyminaturesandwich

Thanks so much for making such wonderful cc. :D  ❤ ❤ ❤

@halsteadss asked: buffy summers or allison argent

“Well, I’m not exactly quaking in my stylish yet affordable boots, but there’s definitely something unnatural going on here and that doesn’t usually lead to hugs and puppies.”


My love for science doesn’t preclude my faith. For me, science is another language we use to talk about the same miracles faith talks about.

Day 2 of @klangst-week, mistake/faith.

late bc we had a power cut for ages yesterday rip


summary: Lance sees Keith one night, around a month after their break-up, caused by a mistake Lance made. Keith’s smiling up at someone new, someone Lance doesn’t know.

based on ‘happier’ by Ed Sheeran.

Rating: Teen

word count: 3,125

i’m back at it again with the fanfics, read below or on AO3

Lance’s hand closed around the cold glass the bartender had just given him. It was some kind of beer. He didn’t know or care, he couldn’t really taste much of anything anymore. It was all the same to him. He tapped his fingers along the glass’s surface then tightened them and chugged the drink back. He heard a ‘slow down buddy’ but he made no motion to reply. When he replaced the glass on the bar he saw it was nearly empty. Around him people were shouting and laughing and generally having fun,he wanted no part in it. He was just here to drink, nothing else.

He glanced over to the left, for no earthly reason and saw the exact person he didn’t want to see. He blinked twice, making sure he was seeing right, he was a bit tipsy after all.  But no, it was him. There was no mistaking his dark hair and shining eyes. Keith Kogane, his ex boyfriend.

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Do the Deed

Summary: With a large assignment due in a few days, the reader is busy toiling away in the library, her roommate offering unwavering support by staying by her side. Who knew an amusing mistake and light-hearted banter could change so much?
Pairing: SamxReader
Words: 2765
Warning: Talking about sex? Lots of euphemisms… 
AN: This is my entry for @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog‘s Trope Challenge! My trope was a College AU, and I couldn’t help but make fun of my own stupid typos… so yeah, the essay in question is one I actually wrote, as is the mistake.
I honestly didn’t think I’d get this finished, but I’m glad I did! It was a lot of fun to write, but I may go over and re-edit it tomorrow… I’m not 100% sure I’m a fan of the ending. Enjoy!!!
Constructive Criticism Welcome!!!


You were pretty sure you’d never worked this hard in your life.

Sam would say that was a complete exaggeration, but considering he had no large assignment due in, you deigned his opinion obsolete as you flicked some of your pencil shavings at him across the library table, just for emphasis.

The lanky law-student rolled his eyes at the childish response, an amused smirk on his face as he quickly typed a response on his laptop.

-it’s not that bad. This time tomorrow, you could be free of it, and we can finally go watch that movie you’ve been ranting about.

You huffed and narrowed your eyes at him over the top of your laptop. How easy it was for him to say it wasn’t so bad…

In response, you chucked a pencil at him. Because you were nothing but mature when it came to venting your frustrations.

If you weren’t in the silent section of the library, you’d have laughed at the brief moment of shock as the pencil hit his cheek and bounced off, clattering onto the desk in front of him; his expression quickly replaced with one of his legendary bitchfaces. You had to make do with a stifled giggle and an innocent, wide-eyed look as he tried to stare you down.

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My Muse is Trapped in a Dark world filled with Monsters and unnatural horrors. Go on Anon and Send "Inventory Supply" Along with an Item and see what My Muse says about the Item and how they think it will help them..
Panic Rising

Author’s Note: Okay so this is maybe a bit too long… but I started writing and I just couldn’t stop! It’s aprx. 2000 words

Warnings: A small panic attack, nothing more

*Beep beep beep*

Betty slammed her hand down to silence the alarm and groaned. She sat up and rubbed her temples, unsuccessful in massaging away the dull ache that had persisted through the night. Swinging her legs off the side of her bed, she pushed herself up to a standing position.

“C’mon Betty, it’s just like any other day, you can do this,” the blonde haired girl mumbled to herself. She crossed over to her vanity, began to brush her hair into a tight ponytail, and braced herself for the day ahead.

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  • cis people: why are transgender suicide rates so high
  • cis people: *constantly tell trans people they're disgusting/unnatural/going to hell*
  • cis people: *kick out/abuse their children after they come out as trans*
  • cis people: *make laws that exclude trans people*
  • cis people: *allow trans people to be fired just because they're trans*
  • cis people: *use trans slurs*
  • cis people: *force trans people to go to gender therapy before beginning transition to "make sure" trans people really are trans*
  • cis people: *make the cost of transitioning over $100,000*
  • cis people: *harass trans people even after they transition*
  • cis people: *kill 1 in 12 trans people and are responsible for countless other trans suicides*
  • trans people: seriously?
Random HC #16 (Continuation of #4 - #15)


The sandwiches aren’t so bad. They don’t even taste that ‘healthy’, if Robbie is all honest. But the taste is only slightly mattering at the moment. What is far more important to the villain is the way, Sportacus is watching him eat. The hero even removed the salad and the slices of cucumber from the sandwiches, to make sure, he would actually eat and like them. And then he sat down at the edge of the bed and Robbie could swear, he saw the hero hold his breath during his first two bites. But the moment, it became clear to him that Robbie neither started complaining nor got sick again, a bright smile settled on his face. And Robbie could also swear, this smile is becoming slightly brighter, still. Once, he’s finished the first sandwich, he titles his head and can barely hide his own smile “What are you looking at, Stalkercus, hm?!”
“Oh! I’m sorry, Robbie!” the hero blushes heavily with embarrassment “I didn’t mean to…”
“No, it’s okay!” assures Robbie quickly, blushing as well, and mumbles “…I was just wondering…whether you actually are as happy about me eating, as you look?…”
“You bet, I am!” Sportacus smiles again and, very carefully, rests a hand on the villain’s arm, his voice lowers a little and becomes more serious now “…I was really scared for you, Robbie… I really don’t know what…” he interrupts himself and forces another smile instead “But you’ll be okay! I’m sure about this! And I’ll take care of it!”
“…I suppose, this isn’t meant to sound like a threat, is it?!” the villain smirks. He just can’t help himself right now. The way, Sportacus was and still is looking at him, simply started a strange feeling in his stomach again. But a complete different one this time. It’s a very light tickle… But maybe, that’s just caused by the sandwich!?… Anyway, it feels much nicer than before and he’s slightly relieved. The hero laughs “No, it is not! Oh, and neither is this… Water!” he catches the flying bottle without looking at it and smiles gently, holding it to Robbie “…Please?…”
“Okay, do you HAVE to do this all the time?! Seriously, Sportaflop, someone could get hurt by all these things always flying around!” Robbie crosses his arms again and narrows his eyes “And if I actually stay longer, like you want me to, then this ‘someone’ is most likely going to be ME! Not to mention that I always get a small heart attack, when you suddenly start yelling like this!”
“I’m sorry,” Sportacus really doesn’t want the other to become all sad and negative again, so he smiles apologetically “I’ll try not to do this anymore. I promise.”
“Hm… At least…give me a warning before, okay?…” for some reason, Robbie really doesn’t want to see Sportacus sad or even concerned at the moment, so he hesitatingly takes the offered bottle and struggles with the cap for a few seconds, before urging himself to take a small sip, his eyes never leaving Sportacus’ during this. His gentle, warm, blue eyes simply soothe him, each time, he locks his own with them and he is afraid to lose this comfort again… He doesn’t really notice how long he’s already taking sip after sip, when the hero suddenly chuckles softly, almost absently. Robbie holds in his move to raise the bottle again and quirks an eyebrow “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” Sportacus is still smiling brightly, without taking his eyes off of the other, watching how his black, tousled, natural hair is falling into the villain’s face now, that all this gel, Robbie usually uses to slick it back, is gone, probably mostly washed away by sweat by now, or smeared over the pillows. Despite his still tired eyes, the dried in tear streaks on his face, and his, still with fever, flushed red cheeks, he simply looks incredibly cute… “…It’s just…” the hero smiles and blushes again “…You look so beautiful…”
Robbie chokes on the last sip, he just took and starts coughing violently. “Robbie!” Sportacus reacts quickly, helps him to lean forward and pats his back with enough force to help him get rid of the water in his lungs again. Robbie takes a long time to recover and when his coughing finally has eased again, a heavy silence sets in, both men still a little shocked. “…Why…” when the villain speaks up again, there are still tears in his eyes. Whether they’re ‘just’ from coughing, the hero can’t tell. “…What did you mean?…” he searches Sportacus’ eyes again, but the relief and the relaxation in his own is gone now. “…Well, you, of course!…” Sportacus blushes a little again, but he keeps caressing Robbie’s back with his hand, rubbing soothing, slow circles in his tensed muscles “I know you still feel quite bad… You’re still running a fever, after all! But… I just noticed, I’ve never before seen your hair this natural and I… I just wanted you to know that I really like it! It fits you. It’s not that strict. It’s cute and soft… Just like…you…” his voice has gotten lower at the end and he giggles nervously now “I’m sorry! I just… I just wanted to say that you look good, although you’re…sick… But I’m…not sure anymore, whether this is any kind of…relief, or… I’m sorry,” he shakes his head “Maybe that’s the lack of sleep…”
“…Maybe…” Robbie smiles weakly and hands the bottle back “…But it’s…pretty nice of you, to say this, though…”
“I shocked you so bad, I nearly killed you…”
“Well, I guess, that was more my mistake than yours, Sportaflop,” he chuckles “After all, I’m the reason, you’re getting no sleep tonight, right? Sorry for that by the way…”
“I already told you, I’d do this for you at any time!” Sportacus gently grabs Robbie’s hand with his free one and squeezes it. He’s incredibly happy that the other hasn’t winced anymore at his touch, after he assured him that he would never hurt him. But when he feels Robbie’s hot, damp skin beneath his fingers, he becomes concerned again “You’re still far from being well again… How do you feel?”
Robbie looks at him for a few seconds, because it still isn’t easy for him to accept the fact that Sportacus actually cares so much and wants him to feel good again. “…I’m cold…” he lowers his eyes and tries to focus on Sportacus’ comforting hands. “That’s what I thought…” Sportacus struggles shortly with himself, but then he asks very carefully and softly “…Robbie, I really don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable… But could you please take off your clothes? They’re not particularly good for keeping you warm, nor are they comfortable. And in case the cramps in your stomach should return, I can’t examine you probably when you’re wearing them…” The villain winces and blinks a few times in utter confusion, before stammering “B-But…what…shall I w-wear then? I can’t stay here in nothing but my underwear!”
“No, no, of course not!” Sportacus smiles soothingly, glad that the other takes his plead with relative calmness, despite his fear, then he withdraws his hands to stand up and flip to one of the closets again, returning with a blue pajama “It should fit you. Okay, it may be a little too short in the legs, but otherwise…”
Robbie, who felt like crying, once the soothing hands disappeared, now furrows his brows and tries to find his usual voice again “Not quite my color… These are yours? Strange. I thought, you sleep in your costume…”
“I do.”
“Then why have a pajama?”
“I…haven’t always been doing it like this…”
“Hm… Then I hope you got a second one, because this suit of yours actually is quite hard to lean on and since we’re probably falling asleep on your bed again, together, I don’t want to wake up with bruises because of this!” he’s completely surprised by his own words. But he’s tired. And he just understood that he would not be able to sleep again, without Sportacus comforting him, like he did before…
Sportacus however feels a happy tingle of excitement in his stomach. Does that mean, Robbie is actually ASKING him to cuddle him now?! Finally accepting not only food, water and help, but even the urgently needed physical contact?! He’s so happy, he nearly starts crying. But instead, he smiles warmly and nods “Yes, I have a second one.”
“Well then…” Robbie blushes furiously again but reaches out to take the clothes “Go and change in the corner or something, please, while I try to change myself while sitting…”
“You sure, you won’t need my help? You’re still very weak…”
“Yes, I know. But…I’ll call​ you, if I need your help, okay?” Robbie smiles soothingly, gently running his fingers over the smooth, soft cloth in his hands “I’ll be fine.”
“…All right…” still worried and slightly hesitating, Sportacus nods slowly, before turning around to get the second pajama and change at the opposite end of the airship, facing the wall. He can barely believe that Robbie suddenly gave in to every single one of his suggestions and advices so quickly, after having so much trouble to do so much as even trust Sportacus enough to let him touch and help him. But maybe, he finally understood that Sportacus actually likes and cares about him. That he’s worth being loved and cared about. That Sportacus…would do anything for him… The hero furrows his brows in surprise, when he senses that the tingle in his stomach becomes stronger, whenever he thinks about Robbie and the way, he just held on to his hand for a moment when Sportacus tried to withdraw it. It has just been a few seconds, but that was long enough to make clear, that he didn’t want the hero to go… And…Sportacus himself, actually had to force himself to get up at this moment, as well and only managed, because he knew that he’d return to his patient within a blink again… It felt…just strange to let go of Robbie’s hand… Unnatural, almost… Sportacus looks down at his own hand for a moment. Is it possible… He hears the thud even before his crystal goes off and twirls around with a terrified yell on his lips “ROBBIE!”

The Room That Echoed.

(warning: long story)

I never really appreciated just how much like a storybook castle my great aunt’s house was.
Four stories tall, with two spires and three attics, it was a monstrous edifice of pocked stone, time-darkened wood and yellowed glass. I spent so much time there in the holidays as a child – especially over Christmas – that it became a secondary home.
And when a place becomes so familiar that it seems like home, it no longer seems so special or unique. It’s just alwaysthere; occupying the same frame of reference as an old coat, a favourite teddy bear or a well-worn book from your personal library.

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one of these days I’m going to get my shit together and do a thing with Fiika for the Agent swimsuit calendar

better late than never, right?

designing monsters with very animalistic bodies but human heads is very risky bc like.. its gonna look weird and a little unsettling no matter what, thats inherent, so its just all about making it look weird but Good, or at least feeling somewhat natural so its not distracting (or if youre going for unnatural, go all the way with it). 

bc its so easy to fall somewhere in between where it just ends up distracting and goofy looking

Absolutely Giddy

Fifth-year SnowBaz for the Carry On Countdown


Love is supposed to be good.  It should feel like an adrenaline rush and a tranquilizer at the same time, a combination of fuzzy warmth and a thrilling buzz.

           Admittedly, it almost was like that for me, right at the very beginning.  In the moment that I realized I was in love with him my face split into this dumb grin and my head spun, and I was absolutely giddy.  When I saw him my heart raced and it made me want to smile again, to beam at him and spin him around and tell him the truth, that I loved him so much.

           Unfortunately for me, the day that I realized I was in love with Simon Snow was the day that Simon Snow began dating Agatha Wellbelove.

           I’m still not sure which of the two events came first.  Did I fall in love of my own volition or because suddenly I couldn’t have him?

           I mean, I never could have had him, but now I really couldn’t have him.

           Ever since, I’ve been doing that thing where I realize how in love with him I already was, I’ve always been.  Our first four years are shifting into place.  I love him, I love him so much…

           Only this love isn’t good.  It isn’t nice.  It’s like sharing a room with an open flame, and no matter how hard I try to stay away I keep stepping nearer and nearer, and the flame burns hotter and fiercer, until I can’t even look at it without getting burned.  Nevermind the added bonus of vampires being flammable.  No matter what happens, it will end in flames.


By far the worst thing about teenage couples is the complete disregard of public decency.  It’s disgusting enough when a random pair starts snogging in the hall, but when it’s Simon and Agatha…  I couldn’t look.  I couldn’t even walk past them.  I had to turn around and try to keep my shaking legs from running.  Not that it matters, they were certainly too busy to have seen me.

           Now I’m pushing open the door to my – our – room at the top of the tower, dreading the sight of him.  I’ll only see her, all over him like a stench.  His hair is perfect and golden; it doesn’t need the embellishment of her pink fingernails.  His eyes should never close like that with her, or with anyone. Maybe me, but that will never happen.

           Simon is sitting on his bed with a textbook and his wand.  I drop my eyes from him, I can’t look at him, not right now, but I feel his gaze on me.

           “Where were you?” he asks.

           “Why do you care?”

           “I was just asking a question.”  He sounds hurt.  How dare he sound hurt, after what he puts me through every day?

           “Whatever,” I grumble and sit down on my bed with a book, my back to him.  I feel his eyes boring into my neck, and I burn.  The second hand on my watch ticks away, too slow and too loud.

           The springs on his bed squeak, and then suddenly everything on my desk goes crashing to the floor.

           “Hey!” I shout, on my feet in an instant.  He’s standing by the desk, wand out, a look of concentration on his perfect face.

           “As you were,” he enunciates.  Nothing happens.  “As you were,” he tries again to no avail. The pens and pencils stay on the floor.

           “As you were,” I murmur, pointing my wand lazily at the mess.  One by one every last pen and pencil floats back into their cups, and everything rights itself on the desk as though they had never moved. Simon glares at me, and I look away. I can’t hold eye contact with him. I haven’t been able to since… well, since the giddy feeling.  I stare at the floor.

           The cups crash down again.

           “What the hell, Snow!”

           “As you were.”

           “Oh, for the love of Merlin!” I groan, stomping over to stand behind him and grabbing his wand arm before I can stop myself.  “Try it now.”

           “What are you doing?”

           “Say the spell again.”  His hair smells fresh, like summer.  Of course it bloody does.

           “As you were,” he says, slower than how he was saying it before, a little quieter. As he says it I move his wand arm in a gentle swoop, making sure it points directly at the pencils when we stop. I feel my hand go hot, unnaturally hot, and I almost jump back in surprise.  Simon’s magic has always been particularly warm.  There’s probably other reasons for me to heat up, though, for instance the fact that I can’t remember the last time I touched him.  It’s making my heart pound in my ears.  I don’t even register the fact that everything is back on the desk as it should be.

           “What happened?” he asks.

           “Just try making that same motion when you cast.” I plop back down on my bed and open my phone, giving myself something I can appear to be interested in. Hopefully he won’t see me watching.

           “Do you think…”  Simon trails off.

           “Do I think what, Snow?  Use your words.”  I don’t even look up from my phone.

           “Could you, I mean… help me?”

           I glance up at him, raising an eyebrow. Simon looks embarrassed, probably for asking his arch-nemesis for help with magic.  

           “Aren’t you supposed to be the Mage’s Heir?” I can’t help but sneer, even though I hate myself for doing it.  “Why do you need my help?”

           “I just do.”

           Did he just… blush?

           I should take advantage of this.  Simon Snow needs my help.  How deliciously ironic.  I should kick the wand out of his hand and leave with another cutting insult, make him cry for good measure.

           I stand.  I go to him.  I take his wand hand again.  I meet his eyes properly for the first time in months.  They’re so blue that everything in my periphery takes on a colder hue, and yet I feel warm.  Buzzing. Absolutely giddy.

           Even after he has the hang of it, we keep shoving everything off the desk.  Over and over.

I sure do love that Stefon sketch, or as I like to call it: “How long can Bill Hader last before completely breaking down on live tv“