i still wanna make em okay

Man labels are really a personal thing, nobody’s required to do shit if they don’t wanna. Like me? Personally? I like using labels to describe my human experience, because my brain organizes by giving specific names to things so like, I snatch up labels that make me feel comfortable like ace/aro back when I was still exploring shit and now ace lesbian now that I’m a little more cognizant of my own brain and what I like. But not everyone needs that, and not everyone can identify themselves or want to fit themselves into labeled cubbies which is fine. Labels and if you use em are a matter of preference and whether you wanna call yourself A B and C or just queer or even just uncertain and vague descriptions of what you like that’s perfectly okay because it’s your human experience and you can define it however you want

ALL THE WAY SENTENCE MEME
  • “We could lay outside on the beach all night.”
  • “Don’t go fallin’ in love with Mr. Wonderful.”
  • “I’ll take you home with me, if you can’t find nothing better.”
  • “You’re a little bit out of my league, but I’m going professional.”
  • “It might take years for you to miss me.”
  • “Truth is, I’m alone in this city.”
  • “I agree that we need an intermission, but one day we’re gonna say, ’We need each other,’ okay?”
  • “You’ll be the one who bends; I’ll be the one who breaks.”
  • “I’ll leave the light on if you wanna come home.”
  • “I love you and I hate you the same.”
  • “Quit your bitchin’, move your feet.”
  • “Why just one if we can have ‘em all?”
  • “Any place you’re going’s where I wanna be.”
  • “I know without you, I’d be incomplete.”
  • “I want it, I need it, I’m begging you, please.”
  • “I can feel your eyes and they’re undressing me.”
  • “I still can’t believe the way you looked at me.”
  • “You keep insisting, saying you miss me, but you can’t miss me with the things that you do.”
  • “I trust that you’ll be yourself.”
  • “Darling, can we go all the way?”
  • “You could be the one that I come home to.”
  • “I need you to feel the same way to make it out okay.”
  • “It’s funny how our friends say we would never last.”
  • “When I get paid, we’ll go out.”
  • “You tell all your friends I’m crazy. Maybe you just like me better undercover.”
  • “I know I’m much more interesting when no one else is listening.”
  • “Give it a rest, 'cause she’s not just looking for sex.”
  • “Wait a minute, so you’re not just losing the dress?”
  • “From now 'til forever, I’ll be there for you whenever.”
  • “You are afraid you loved me too.”
  • “We’re not on the same page much these days.”
Puppy Tazer Week: In Which Puppy Tazer Is The Keenest of Competitors

Puppy Tazer Week continues with a rather loose interpretation of this prompt:

the—northface replied to your post “Puppy Tazer aficionados”

Kaner buys a nice toy & puppy Jonny plays with a free bag instead; AND/or Kaner buys puppy Jonny a toy & they use it in the bedroom somehow, human!jonny being very judgmental of this dog toy/leash/whatever & them both getting into it

So yes, unbetaed, per usual, 1400 words of Tazer vs. Dog Brick (Spoiler: the dog brick wins.)

“I thought we’d mix it up a little bit,” Patrick says, and reaches up into his closet. “Bought this a couple months ago for you.”

Johnny’s eyes manage to somehow get bigger, and it almost makes Patrick feel a little bad. He doesn't really buy Johnny presents all that much - as a human or a dog, but his little tail seems like it’s practically gonna spin off from excitement.

Keep reading

An Expert on Bad Dreams

It feels more and more like this is turning into an MShenko blog. Hoo boy. Wrote this fluffy little short on the occasion of starfleetspectre’s birthday, because drawings of Daddy Kaidan make me smile. Characters based on starfleetspectre’s portrayal of ‘em, obviously. Happy Birthday!

If tall columns of text don’t do it for you, try wide columns of text at AO3:


++

“Daddy?”

Shepard’s eyes shot open, muscles tensed for a fight, body starting awake in Kaidan’s arms. Before he could shoot out of bed, those arms wrapped around him tight, holding him close, letting him exhale slowly. Closing his eyes again, he felt Kaidan’s hand stroke down his chest, finger tips dusting gently across his eyelids, a soft ‘hush’ pressed into the back of his neck with a kiss. He made a soft sound and sank back into the pillow, but a moment later squirmed at the rush of cold air against his back as Kaidan untangled their bodies. Shepard reached back, turning over to follow Kaidan’s warmth.

Daddy?”

It took a second for his eyes to focus as Kaidan switched on a light, pulling the sheet around his shoulders even as it slipped down Kaidan’s bare torso to his waist. On Kaidan’s side of the bed, the top of little Shaun’s head barely cleared the top of the mattress, only visible as an unruly mop of brown hair above a pair of wide amber eyes peering up at Kaidan. Shaun had that look on his face that always made Shepard rush over and protect him. But he had come to Kaidan’s side of the bed, and there was a ritual that needed to be performed.

“I’m up… Daddy’s up, just… gimme a second…” Kaidan slid back down prone on the bed, pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, yawned wide, his chest rising and falling with a few deep gulps of air, “Okay… okay.” He cleared his throat, and Shepard smiled a little when Shaun’s nose peeked over the top of the mattress, leaning in. Kaidan reached and arm out and the little boy grasped Kaidan’s hand  above his head with both of his, jumping off the floor to help as his daddy tensed his bicep and hoisted him up onto the bed.

Shepard and Shaun both loved the big heaving noise Kaidan made whenever he lifted the boy up like this. Shepard’s eyes were half-closed as he settled onto the pillow to watch—Shaun got embarrassed if he knew he’d woken up both his dads—but he allowed his leg to slide across the cold gap between him and Kaidan, lightly touch his husband’s leg. The minute Shaun’s knees hit the mattress, he scrambled up to sit on Kaidan’s chest, pushing an exaggerated ‘Oomph’ out of the man. He hugged Kaidan’s neck tight.

“Oh, babs! What’s the matter, huh?” Kaidan stroked his back, straightening the hood on his plush quarian envirosuit pyjamas.

“I had a nightmare.” The boy mumbled, Shepard thought he might be fighting tears.

“A nightmare? Oh no!” Kaidan squeezed Shaun before lifting him up to sitting so he could look into the little boy’s eyes. Still wide-eyed, Shaun nodded, biting his lip like he always did. “What happened?”

Shepard tried to cover his smile in Kaidan’s pillow without letting Shaun know he was awake. Kaidan knew just how to handle nightmares, and it was all about taking them seriously, no matter what. No matter how often. No matter what time of the night. The way Kaidan’s eyebrows knit together in sympathy when Shaun told him about a bad dream was familiar to Shepard. No wonder Shaun stopped coming to Shepard’s side of the bed when he had a nightmare. Shepard ran his big toe up the sole of Kaidan’s foot beneath the sheet.

“There was a crocodile and it wanted to eat me. It was in the bathroom. In the tub. And Reega was downstairs but he didn’t believe me! The crocodile was chasing me and I was trying to run but I couldn’t move fast!”

“Oh no!”

“Yeah! And I ran into my room and I couldn’t shut the door and I tried yelling for help but nobody heard me! Then I woke up…”

“Well it sounds like you woke up just in time, huh?” Kaidan smiled up at their son as he began smoothing Shaun’s bed-hair down, “Was it this house?”

“Uh-uh,” Shaun shook his head, “It was our house on the Citadel.”

“Oh, okay! The big tub, huh?” he crumpled the boy’s bangs in his hand and gave the shock of hair a soft pat, transforming it into a well-groomed poof. Shepard rolled his eyes to himself, but marveled at how much the grooming soothed Shaun.

“Uh-huh. It was real scary!” he said, but Shepard could see that most of the fear had smoothed from his brow.

“I bet!”

“I don’t wanna go in the tub anymore.”

“You don’t, huh?”

“Uh-uh.”

“Well you don’t need to worry about that dream coming true, Babs. It’s just. Too. Weird.” He punctuated each word with a little poke into Shaun’s side which made the boy squirm and fight against his own smile, “Know how I know?”

“How?”

“Well, because we are always gonna come running if you need help, okay?” Kaidan said, and Shaun nodded, “And besides, you know Reega wouldn’t pass up the chance to see a real live crocodile, would he?” Shaun smiled and shook his head.  Kaidan’s wide grin pulled Shaun’s even wider, and Shepard knew what was coming next.

Shaun shyly scooted till he was seated cross-legged on Kaidan’s stomach, puppy-dog stare fixed squarely on Kaidan. There was a glimmer in Kaidan’s eyes before he began inhaling dramatically, pushing his belly up and slowly raising Shaun… he puffed out his cheeks and held his breath, squinting with pretend exertion… suddenly he pushed all the air out, tensing his abs as Shaun dropped suddenly giggling in delight at the sudden rush. Shepard watched his husband’s tight stomach again expand with a deep breath, then blow all the air out again, flexing his belly up and down till Shaun was giggling and practically falling off.

It’d been one of Shaun’s favorite games since before he could talk, and was such a surefire way of cheering him up that Shepard sometimes wondered why Kaidan even bothered with the preliminary conversation anyway. That’s another reason Shaun probably came to Kaidan’s side of the bed with nightmares.

“Oof, Babs! You are getting so heavy!” he tickled under the boys’ arms, “Feeling better?”

“Yeah.” Shaun answered with that gentle whine he used when he maybe wasn’t ready to stop getting some attention from his Dads yet.

“Good. Nightmares are tricky things, aren’t they? Y’know, Papa knows a lot about bad dreams.” Kaidan said. Shepard closed his eyes completely just in time as Shaun turned to look. As if suddenly remembering his other dad was in the room, Shaun’s voice grew hushed.

“Papa has nightmares?”

“Yeah, everyone does, Babs. But your Papa’s an expert.”

“Really?”

“Sure thing. Why don’t you wake him up and ask him about it?”

“But you said I shouldn’t wake him up real sudden.” He heard Shaun whisper. Shepard smiled and tried to slow his breathing to a sleeping rhythm, ready to play his role.

“It’s okay this once.”

Shepard felt the bed tremble slightly, then small hands on his shoulder, shaking him just a little.

“…Papa?”

The bed rocked again, Shepard heard Kaidan whisper, “Go on, try again.”

Papa?

Shepard pretended to slowly come to wakefulness, making a show of yawning and stretching. When he finally opened his eyes, Shaun’s face hovered right in front of his, his dark eyes wide and worried. He noticed Kaidan, up on an elbow at his side with a wry smile on his face, he felt Kaidan’s foot gently stroke his.

“Shaun, hey.” Shepard gave his son a big smile to try to calm him, “You okay, son?”

“I had a nightmare.” Shaun mumbled. Shepard pushed himself up to lean against the headboard, scooping up Shaun with him and sitting the boy on his lap.

“Ohhhhh, a nightmare huh? Really scary?”

“Uh-huh. There was a crocodile in the tub.”

“But that’s our tub!” Shepard mustered up some feigned outrage.

“Then it chased me!”

“What! No!” Shepard wasn’t as good at sounding kid-friendly and believable as Kaidan was. But fortunately Shaun didn’t seem to notice.

“I tried screaming for help but nobody came!”

“Was it fast?”

“Ummm…” Shaun looked confused, “I think… so…?”

“Erm. I mean… I hope it’s fast, because it’s gonna need to be to run away from me if it thinks it can chase my son!”

Papa!” Shaun rolled his eyes the way he’d seen Kaidan do, but smiled. Shepard tousled his hair into a messy mop again, and suppressed a grin at the glare Kaidan shot him.

“Well you know what you have to do the next time we’re at our apartment on the Citadel then, don’t you?”

“What?”

“You’ve got to take a bath in that tub to show that crocodile who’s boss!” he pulled the boy in for a hug, and was happy to feel the boy’s arms wrap around his neck, smooth cheek pressed into the scars on Shepard’s. He knew Shaun loved him, trusted him, but nothing really convinced him like these kinds of hugs.

“Papa,” he pulled back, “Daddy says you have nightmares. Do you really?”

“Sure.”

“But you’re not scared of things like I am.”

“Sure I am. Everybody gets scared.”

“What do you have nightmares about?” he asked. Shepard threw a glance at Kaidan and interpreted his raised eyebrow as a combination of ‘Be careful’ and ‘are you alright?’

“Krogans.” Shepard said simply, sticking out his bottom lip in his best approximation of a ‘brave face’.

“Awww, but they’re so nice!”

“C’mon, you don’t think Uncle Wrex is scary?”

“Naaaah!”

“Well I think he’s scary. What do you think, Dad?”

“He gets cranky when he’s tired!” Kaidan chuckled, the gravelly sound made Shepard’s heart beat a little faster.

“Do you ever have nightmares about Reapers, Papa?” Shaun asked suddenly. Shepard tensed.

“—Babs I think that—“ Kaidan leaned in, but Shepard gently held up a hand.

“Yeah, sometimes I do.”

“What did Reapers even look like?”

Shepard took a few deep breaths, trying not to let his distress show on his face, still so close to Shaun’s innocent expression. He lifted his hand up below his nose and wiggled his fingers in front of his mouth like mock-tentacles.

“A little like this.”

“That doesn’t seem so scary!”

“Well it scared me!”

“Sorry Papa, I didn’t mean to make fun of your nightmare0s.”

“It’s okay, I can handle ‘em.”

“I don’t wanna have bad dreams about that crocodile again.”

“Maybe you won’t?”

“How do you make sure you don’t have nightmares about Reapers?”

Shepard felt Kaidan’s fingers intertwine with his between them on the mattress as Kaidan scooted higher on the bed to press in close, laying his head on Shepard’s shoulder.

“I can’t always make sure I don’t have bad dreams. But when I wake up, I try to do the most I can, because the nightmares don’t matter. The people you’re with when you’re awake? They’re the important ones, not the monsters in the nightmares. Does that make sense?”

Shaun nodded, suppressed a yawn, but Shepard wasn’t entirely convinced the boy had made sense of what he said. Fortunately he had years and years to teach that lesson. He turned to look at the clock.

“Well kiddo, it’s 01:36 and your Daddy’s got a Council meeting tomorrow. Think you can go back to bed?”

Shaun nodded and Shepard scooted off the bed to pick him up, trying to emulate Kaidan’s big heaving noise in the process. He’d have been disappointed in his own poor effort if he hadn’t felt Shaun’s legs wrap around his waist. Carrying the boy back to his own room, he laid Shaun in bed and tucked him in, but could see some of the worry coming back into Shaun’s face in the glow of the night-light.

“Okay, let’s try that breathing exercise Daddy taught you, ready?”

They each took a few deep, long inhalations and really long exhales, the kind Kaidan did when he felt a migraine coming on. The kind he taught Shaun for when the other boy got anxious about making friends or whether or not Shepard was going to like the picture he drew for him. In just a few breaths, he was out like a light, and Shepard pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, gently smoothing his hair back into some semblance of order before plodding back to his bedroom.

Kaidan had settled onto his back on the bed, sheet still at his waist. Shepard eyes ran up his husband’s chest as he circled the bed to his side. He couldn’t help but notice the way Kaidan’s eyes followed him across the room. He smirked as he got to the edge of the bed. Turning his back to Kaidan, he slowly slipped down his boxers, bending over to pull them off before sliding into bed. Kaidan’s rusty chuckle sent a warm rush through Shepard as he and Kaidan met each other in the center of the bed.

“Brave man, Shepard. You know the second you commit to something like that he’s gonna have another nightmare.” Kaidan nuzzled into Shepard’s neck as Shepard warmed his hands against Kaidan’s chest.

“Remember before we had a kid and we could sleep naked all the time?” he gently tugged at the waistband of Kaidan’s briefs, slowly sliding his hand inside to find Kaidan half-hard.

“Remember when we were on the Normandy and we could’ve but we didn’t?” Kaidan said, teasing the stud in Shepard’s ear with his tongue.

“Mm. We were dumb. Why did we ever think we could raise a kid?” Shepard shivered at the sensation as Kaidan planted his lips on Shepard’s: a flood of tiny, tired kisses. Shepard stroked his knuckles over Kaidan’s tight stomach, “You’re gonna be sore in the morning from all that horsing around.”

“Yeah, he’s getting too big. Don’t think I’ll be able to do that much longer. I don’t think I can curl him like that anymore either.” He had slid his leg between Shepard’s legs, “Kid’s growing like a weed.”

“Yeah, I hope he grows out of those nightmares.” Shepard sighed, he wanted to say something about how he must’ve learned all that over-worrying, all that worrying, from Kaidan. But since Shaun was born the only thing he’d seen Kaidan worry about was Shepard.

“He will.” Kaidain said softly, his stubble rubbing through the hair on Shepard’s chest, “He’s got a good role model.”

“Mhm,” Shepard groaned as Kaidan softly nibbled at his collarbone “I think he’s going to grow up just fine.” Shepard felt Kaidan’s tongue loll around his chest, gasped sharply at the warm breath across his nipple.

“You were worried?” Kaidan mumbled from the crevice between his pecs. Shepard grunted as Kaidan’s knee gently brushed along his inner thigh. He pulled Kaidan up and leaned their foreheads together. He kissed the tip of Kaidan’s nose where Kaidan always gave Shaun eskimo kisses. He kissed the corner of his eyes where those little lines appeared whenever Kaidan smiled really wide to cheer Shaun up. Kaidan’s deep whiskey eyes were the same as ever, even as his expression had relaxed since the war, even as he had shown Shepard his silly side to make their son laugh. And nobody could handle nightmares like Kaidan.

“No. I don’t worry when you’re around. We got a hell of a son.” He said at last as Kaidan shifted on top of him until his husband’s full weight and warmth pressed him into the mattress.

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

++

Less Than 48 Hours Left!

Hey, everyone, it’s Dipper again!  For like, y’know, the 3rd time by now. Sorry about that.

But hey, I just wanted to give you one last reminder that TheMysteryShack’s Cover Photo Competition is about to come to a close!  That deadline is May 31st, at 11:59 PM EST, and geez, take a look at the calendar–that’s right around the corner!

We’ve received a BUNCH of awesome submissions and we’re super psyched to go through them all soon!  However, don’t let that discourage you from sending your work in, okay?  Dude, I know there are tons of artists out there that still may wanna participate, and heck–I say go for it!

You’ll never know ‘til you try, man!  Unless it’s asparagus. Trust me, don’t…don’t even bother trying asparagus.

So get those cover photos in lightning quick, and hey–remember to have fun with it!  Again, the deadline is May 31st, at 11:59 PM EST!  You’ve still got about two days left.  Make ‘em count!

Just, uh, please don’t get eaten by any monsters or weird creatures or anything in the process.  I dunno, man, according to Mabel, art is pretty hazardous.

Just…just covering my bases.

–Dipper

alannastara  asked:

Freckle

She’s half asleep already, curled into the warmth that inevitably radiates from Daryl’s body pretty much all the time, but especially after sex. The rhythmic back and forth of his thumb over the inside of her wrist makes her even sleepier. Listening to the storm outside (thunder rattles the windows every now and then, and intermittent lightning flickers through the room), she feels the soft tap of Daryl’s heartbeat against her shoulder and makes a mental list of every single thing she’s grateful for, right in this exact moment.

An actual bed (fine, with shitty sheets — it doesn’t matter).

The sound of raindrops smacking against a real glass window (she’s so tired of tents, of cold ground, of waking up with her shoulder or leg cramped so badly that she has to chew her cheek to keep from making a noise he’ll notice).

A house with room enough for everybody to spread out.

The can of sliced peaches in heavy syrup she and Daryl got to share after dinner — at this point in her life better than any ice cream she can ever remember eating.

A bedroom door that locks.

Sex that didn’t have to be an Olympic speed event for once. (She can barely remember the last time they had more than fifteen minutes to do it, start to finish, and sure that takes the edge off, but it’s not the same as this.) The chance to get rid of all their clothes, one piece at a time. Kissing for ten minutes before they even started doing anything else, so soft and slow and sweet. Daryl’s voice in her ear, whispering how much he loves to taste her skin.

Actual foreplay, so good that she was trembling before he got even close to being inside her.

The way it felt inside her chest when he rolled her over and whispered, “I can’t wait no more,” and she kissed him harder and breathed against his open lips, “So don’t.”

The fact that for once, she gets to fall asleep naked, to feel the heat of his skin touching hers, everywhere.

The rush of the wind through the pines just outside.

So she’s drifting, almost gone, when she feels Daryl’s fingers moving lightly up her arm, stopping at her shoulder. He kisses her there, three times, and mumbles (voice muffled by her skin), “This one’s my favorite.”

“Your favorite what?” Her words are crackly with exhaustion.

“Freckle.”

She can’t help laughing, eyes blinking halfway open in the dark. “You’re so full of shit. They all look the same.”

“Maybe to you.” There’s laughter beneath his words, and something inside her picks up and floats — the indescribable joy of having him back, of having him here, of having him with her, of having him like this.

She’s suddenly afraid she might cry, but she bites her lip and murmurs, “Definitely to me.”

“You jus’ haven’t looked at ‘em enough,” he replies, moving his kisses to the curve of her neck and touching his supposedly favorite freckle with the tip of his index finger. He makes a circle and adds, “I used to stare at this one all the time, whenever you’d wear that damn tank top that drove me crazy.”

Still trying to keep it light, she grins and says, “Well you must’ve really needed to get off, because that tank top was horrible.”

“Didn’t wanna get off. I wanted you.”

Okay, so much for light. 

Her eyes fill with tears and she rolls over instantly, turning in his arms until she’s halfway draped over him, fully awake now and looking into his eyes in the shadowed room. He doesn’t shift his gaze even a fraction, eyes filled with so much unfiltered love that she feels a little as if she’s coming apart, right there. After a second, she swallows and says, “How do you always know exactly what to say?”

He shrugs, one of his hands drifting into the back of her hair. “I jus’ tell you the truth.”

She looks at him for a long moment, lightning highlighting his face for a flash before leaving the room darker in its wake. Then she kisses him one more time, trying to use her lips to communicate because words aren’t working, and finally squishes down under the covers, head on his chest.

"You comfortable?” he asks when she stops wiggling. His hand settles on the small of her back, callouses brushing her skin.

“You have no idea how comfortable I am,” she replies, letting her eyes slip shut again.

“Wouldn’t bet on that,” he retorts softly, and she figures he can have the last word.

Just this once.

Practice Makes Perfect

So, from what I’ve seen in @therealjacksepticeye’s Bloopers/Outtakes video, and I kinda realized something- he might seem 100% perfect in all videos, but there are tons of outttakes and unneccessary things, and that is because he is still learning.

A lesson, from a measly, pathetic sketch/traditional artist- Practice Makes Perfect. It seems like a cheesy old timey saying but it has strong values. Every day, every single sketch I make has at least 70 eraser marks and 1,000 alterations. With a million mistakes in between. Even after 17 years of blood, sweat and tears going into my drawings, I still have tons to learn. Imperfection is okay, and Practice Makes Perfect. 

You wanna do some warm-ups with your vocals? You do that. Practice in front of a mirror, build up your confidence, you are beautiful and deserve to be in the spotlight, you are a magnificent creature built from the stars.

You want to write that romance story or fanfic but got major writer’s block? Look at your surroundings- gather inspiration, write down little details, like the clock ticking away on the wall.

You want to draw that gorgeous fanart of your fave youtuber? REFERENCES HELP. Look ‘em up on the Googles, watch their videos, watch the way their faces change and move, study their eyes, look and observe at all the hairs, wrinkles and the sheer beauty of their uniqueness. Wanna talk to yourself about it? Go ahead!

Wanna make those awesome gifs or edits? Have at it! You are making the best thing ever, literal Harry Potter magic there, and make your followers flip their shit while looking at your creations.

You want to make that YouTube video as smooth as a calm Sunday Morning? Practice your intro until you loathe saying those words, and check everything until you are 900% sure that everything is in tippity-toppity shape. Got a few badgers in your throat? Take a glass of water, and swish it around in your mouth and swallow, and moisten- *Cringes at word*- that esophagus and stretch those vocal cords. Take the deepest breaths and look in that mirror, fix that cowlick and brush your hair a couple times, look into the mirror and smile- look at that astounding person in the mirror. Look at the hair, and admire the way you look. Today is another day to show the world your beautiful face and get ready to rock the world with your talent- you got this.

This is coming from a 17-year experienced, measly little Artist from Maine who holds the record for the worlds lowest self-esteem. 

So Jack, don’t be ashamed of your work, and be proud- getting 13 million subscribers in 4 years? Dude, you deserve a high five, that is a riot! Cherish all those awesome people and be proud of every video you make, because you are a hero that millions look up to and thank every day for getting them into a better place. 

Don’t give up, and just keep practicing.