look at what i learned how to do

Our Little Secret - Part Eleven

Summary: Dean and you try something new on the way to your next hunt

Series Masterlist

Characters: Dean, Sam, Reader

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Square Filled: free space for @spnkinkbingo

Kink(s): Sexting

Word Count: 3400

Warnings: Smut, sexting, language, flashback in italics, texting is in bold and italics

A/N: Thank you so much for reading. I’m really loving these character and this series. Thank you for your wonderful responses. A special thank you to the people who looked this over for me.


It’s been three weeks, three freaking weeks since Dean has touched you and you are dying.

The first two weeks had been because you were healing up. He was pretty sure you had cracked ribs and your shoulder had been really sore, so he wasn’t going to chance hurting you, even the couple of times you had insisted.

Then you had gotten the bright idea to tell him either he could have fun with you, or you would take care of it yourself. Dean promptly made sure the two of you shared a room with Sam at the next motel, a smug smile on his face, daring you to go right ahead. If you weren’t so nervous about being caught, you would have called his bluff.

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Most of the time, it’s the small slip-ups.

“Heh. Well, it can’t be worse than the prison slop,” Jay says, picking at the ‘dinner’ Cole made.

A sharp kick connects with his shin. Jay opens his mouth in outrage, intending to cry out, but he catches the look Nya sends him. The other ninja stare at him in various expressions of puzzlement.

“When did you have prison food?” Cole finally asks, looking torn between feeling worried for his friend and indignant at the comparison.

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anonymous asked:

Stephen King says the road to hell is paved with adverbs. Could you recommend some posts/master list about adverbs and the correct/incorrect way to use them? Maybe some things on showing vs telling, or ways to craft better writing? Thank you! Very much love the blog!

Hello and thank you for your ask! I do agree with Mr. King to a certain extent, but if your life is suddenly driven by avoiding adverbs, then yeesh. It’s not BAD to use them, but limit them. Then again, JK Rowling loved them and she’s richer than the queen now. So who knows what the right way is these days.

Before we get to links, I’d like to give my two cents from what I learned through writing books:

One thing that stuck with me was this: how do you tell an adverb is good or bad?
“She smiled happily” and “She smiled sadly”
Take a look at these two examples: which one is good and which one is bad? Smiling happily doesn’t give you much, since when you smile, happiness is already implied. But if you change happily to sadly, then you’ve got a whole other meaning.
Another example: “Killing Me Softly” (a song) vs “Killing Me Fiercely”. The latter is a bad adverb.

Most writing books tell you this: change your adverbs to strong verbs.

“But Boo, how do I do that?”

I’m glad you asked, my dear friend. I have absolutely no idea, so I’ll give you a book example (taken from 50 Essential Strategies For Every Writer by Writer’s Digest:

“She went quickly down the stairs” vs “She dashed down the stairs” I’ll leave it to you to decipher which is the good one.

This will mostly take practice, as well as an extensive knowledge of verbs in the english language. But honestly? Write badly with adverbs at first, and you’ll worry about strong verbs when you start editing. If you let it control you while writing, you’ll hit a rut very quickly my dear friend.

So now to the links! Since you asked for more than just adverbs here’s a mix of some things I could find:

I’m sorry if this isn’t much help to you ;-;

anonymous asked:

Robbie turns younger, but still has his memorys

This came out way cuter than I thought it would. High on my list of personal favorites. Thanks for the prompt!!

All the kids were playing basketball when a boy about their age popped out from behind a bush. He was as tall as Pixel, with short black hair, a striped purple shirt, and shoes that looked a little big for him.

“Hello, fellow children!” said the boy, “I am here to play, and definitely not to spy on heroes to learn how to stop them flipping and flopping!”

Stephanie, Stingy, Pixel, Trixie, and Ziggy exchanged glaces. Stingy was the first to speak up, “What’s your name?”

“Ro— Um, Roband Wroughtiron! But you can call me Rob.”

“Okay, Rob! What do you like to play?” Pixel asked.

“My favorite game is ‘See Who Can Sleep The Longest’. Do you wanna play?”

The other kids all looked at each other again. What kind of game was that? “Uh, not really,” Ziggy said.

“Do you know how to play basketball?” Stephanie asked, holding up the ball.

“Sounds painful.”

“It’s easy! You just take this ball and try and get it through the hoop!” Stephanie lightly tossed the ball to Rob. He screamed and jumped out of the way, covering his head with his arms. The ball bounced harmlessly passed. Trixie giggled. 

“You have to catch it,” Stephanie said kindly.

Rob looked over at the ball. His face turned red. “I knew that.” Rob grabbed the ball and walked over to the hoop. He threw the ball into the air with a grunt. It didn’t even make it level with the hoop before it fell back to earth.

“This ball is broken,” He grumbled. Trixie’s giggling turned into laughter.

“Try it like this, Rob.” Pixel picked up the ball and tossed it expertly into the hoop. After watching Pixel a few more times, Rob tried again. The basketball fell through the hoop.

“I did it!” he cried, pumping his fists in the air. The rest of the kids cheered.

“Ready for a game?” Trixie asked, dribbling the ball.

Rob’s face fell, “Wasn’t that the game?”

An hour later, they all stopped for a water break. Rob was sweaty and panting, but grinning. He had scored twice and everyone kept congratulating him. 

“Wait ‘till you see how good Sportacus is!” Ziggy said, passing Rob a water bottle. 

“Who? Oh!” Rob looked around, “Where is Sporta-whatever?”

“He went to check on Robbie Rotten,” Stephanie said, “No one’s seen him in a few days and Sportacus was worried.”

Rob dropped his water bottle and stood up from the bench, “I have to go!” He cried, “I, um, I hear my mother calling me!” He started running.

“Hey!” Trixie called. Rob stopped and turned back to them, “Will you come out and play with us again sometime?”

Rob looked at them all, a little perplexed. “S-Sure!”

And with that, he ran off.

anonymous asked:

hey, how do i go about learning french & german? what resources do i need to get? thanks

Hello hello :)

Well, that’s a complicated question. Looks simple but it’s broad. If you really want to research the topic I suggest you go on Google or here on Tumblr too, and use the tags to find posts about that. Now, I’ve only really studied French and English, I just started German and I’m not doing much anyway, so I’ll stick to general advice that works well for European languages with a lot of resources like these two.

  • Phone or computer apps, like Duolingo, Memrise, Babbel, Lingvist (some are free, some aren’t; choose what’s best for you). Some I like for German are Lern Deutsch, or Ankommen. I didn’t really use apps for French since I focused on my tutor. Which leads me to…
  • … if you have the means, you can get a personal tutor. You’ll meet either at your place, her place, or maybe a coffee shop. Specially useful if you need to go fast, learn really efficiently, or maybe you’d like to have someone who you can talk to individually and without distractions. That’s what I did for French and I’m 100% sure that’s what got me to my goal. Beware, tutors can get expensive; that’s why I say “if you have the means. 
  • Group classes/courses, in a language school, your local university, or there may be even some public programs (that tends to be for unemployed adults where I come from). They are usually divided by levels (A1, A2, B1, B2,…) and each level could last a school year or two. There’s often an exam at the end of the course to test your level. Can be much cheaper than a tutor, and it’s good for those who like to learn in a group, where you can interact with others and not just the teacher. But it won’t meet your individual needs, it will follow a general program for everybody, which could be either too fast or too slow for you.
  • Grammar books and similar others, which can be huge and full of everything you’ll ever need, or small and have the basics. I like to have at least a small grammar book that I can consult if I don’t understand something. This is specially useful if you don’t have a tutor or any kind of teacher helping you. I’d also have a big one if you know you want to get to a high level in that language (maybe C1 or even C2), because it’s never a bad things to have such wealth of information available. Then books about verb conjugations, or vocabulary for example, can help you get a better understanding of the language, and again are really useful if you are studying it by yourself. Some I like for French are Bescherelle L’essentiel (not just grammar but a little bit of everything; it’s a classic between French people), Bescherelle Le vocabulaire (see a theme here? Get Bescherelle books as soon as you can read something that’s 100% in French) and I’ve heard good stuff about Easy French Step-by-Step, but find whatever suits you best and whatever books you find more interesting. Then for German I have Aprende Alemán en 7 días (but it’s in Spanish, so…) and I’ve also heard good things about the Practice Makes Perfect books for German (like this and this). Amazon is your friend for this.
  • Course books or books meant to help you achieve a specific level, like for French Entre Nous or 100% réussite. These are books usually 100% in the language you are studying and they focus on, for example, everything you need to know for the B1 level. They’ll introduce grammar, vocabulary, and all the things they think will are meant to be learnt for that level. They aren’t that expensive but I feel like without a teacher or tutor who can read and correct all your exercises, they might not be as useful. For German I know Menschen. You can also buy them to practice before you plan on taking an exam for that level.
  • BUT TUMBLR. The amount of resources you’ll find here is insane. You can find lists of resources for a ton of languages, and a ton of stuff specially for French and German. It’s gold.
  • Along the same lines, there’s a ton of free stuff: free online courses, websites full of info and grammar, YouTube videos and whole YouTube courses for a specific level (like this A1 German course). You just need to do a little research but you’ll never stop finding resources, believe me. 
  • I know you may feel like it’s bullshit advice but you need to do what’s best for you. I cannot tell you what to do. If I tell you to get a tutor but you hate the idea, or you don’t have the money, then don’t. You need to use the resources that sound best for you. Look, I see people memorizing vocabulary with flashcards and notebooks and everything, reviewing every day. I’ll never do that, because I hate it. I learn vocabulary as I go and if it’s not enough, poor me, but I’d never just sit down to memorize it; but other people like it, so the do it. You may love to watch YouTube courses, so you can watch them all. You may really like the idea of a group course, and you go and do that. Whatever is fun for you. There aren’t any laws, there is no single way fo going about this. Get inspiration from people here and find what you like to do. I know you may be thinking “but I’ve got noooo idea!”. Yeah, I know, but then you’ll just need to try. Start with the free stuff, and if nothing convinces you or you feel you need something more, think about the tutor, the courses, the books.
  • Don’t overthink it. You will anyway but I’m still gonna tell you. Do not overthink it. It’s hard to find the perfect resource that you just adore. It’s hard to feel ready. You need to start with whatever you got. Or you’ll procrastinate for months and months like me; don’t do that. Don’t wait for the perfect moment or for whatever you want you don’t have. Please, just start. You will NOT regret it. Do it for me and if you have more question or you need to rant about it, come back and hit my ask (or message me, whatever is better for you). I’m the kind of person who always has her phone next to her and feels the need to answer to everybody as fast as possible so, yeah.

Okay well, this isn’t everything, because that would have been a collection of novels, but it’s something and I hope it helps! Check this (x) post I wrote about ideas for language learning. 

Tauriel: Your father sent me to you.

Legolas: What does he want?

Tauriel: He is your father. How should I know?

Legolas: He didn’t send a message with you?

Tauriel: Legolas, I learned to tune him out years ago.

Legolas: What did you want, Ada?

Thranduil: I wanted to know something.

Legolas: Yes?

Thranduil: Do I look good in this color?


When I look into your eyes
It’s like watching the night sky
Or a beautiful sunrise
Well, there’s so much they hold
And just like them old stars
I see that you’ve come so far
To be right where you are
How old is your soul?

Well, I won’t give up on us
Even if the skies get rough
I’m giving you all my love
I’m still looking up

And when you’re needing your space
To do some navigating
I’ll be here patiently waiting
To see what you find

‘Cause even the stars they burn
Some even fall to the earth
We’ve got a lot to learn
God knows we’re worth it
No, I won’t give up

I don’t wanna be someone who walks away so easily
I’m here to stay and make the difference that I can make
Our differences they do a lot to teach us how to use
The tools and gifts we got, yeah, we got a lot at stake
And in the end, you’re still my friend at least we did intend
For us to work we didn’t break, we didn’t burn
We had to learn how to bend without the world caving in
I had to learn what I’ve got, and what I’m not, and who I am

theallieoop  asked:

30! also your klance art gives me life 💙

thank you so much!!

30. What inspires you to not just make art, but to be a better artist?

hmmm this is a difficult question for sure. I think it’s that I want to produce a certain content, and I wanna do it in the best way possible? Like, i have a specific idea in mind, and I hate not being able to execute that in the best way (but then again, what’s the best way.. I guess it’s just how I want my art to look like) I’m really perfectionistic and if there’s just one thing bothering me in a drawing, for example the anatomy of a specific body part not being realistic or whatever, I’ll hate the whole piece. So that’s probably what inspires me to learn how to draw different things and techniques and get better at it.  Also, for almost all my life I’ve been “just” making art, without practicing specific things like anatomy or techniques, but just drawing or painting without much thinking. But I was never happy with it and it was never really good, and since I started drawing fan art I actually wanted to get better and learn, so I guess drawing something I enjoy (like my favorite shows and characters) has made a huge impact on my art. This is a really messy answer and I’m not 100% sure if it answers the question lmao but yeah it’s pretty much just me wanting to be good at it to be able to produce the art I want to produce

“I could do about anything… I could even learn how to love like you. I always thought I might be bad, now I’m sure that it’s true. ‘Cause I think you’re so good and I’m nothing like you….” He sings softly to himself as he cuddles with his Lavender plushie.

“Look at you go I just adore you. I wish that I knew, what makes you think I’m so special…”

anonymous asked:

hey, how do i go about learning french? what resources do i need to get? thanks

Honestly it depends on what kind of learner you are.
You need a mix of a bunch of resources, some traditional, like textbooks, actually sitting down and studying with a notebook and flash cards, and then a lot of fun ones, like talking to friends and watching your favorite movies/tv shows in the language.

You need a good variety of resources, if you’re starting off I would recommend duolingo and memrise (really good places to start but they aren’t very in depth so you need more than just this)
Lingvist is also a good (all three of these are better for just learning vocab, I would suggest finding a good book for grammar and using it in conjunction)

I would also recommend making some friends who speak French. Casual conversation is always the best way for me to learn, because I’m talking about things I would normally talk about, so I learn my most common vocab.
Like I mentioned above find some music you like, you can translate the lyrics of some of your favorite French songs, or even try and translate your favorite English songs to french.
Doing things you like in French will actually help you learn without realizing you’re learning
Do you play video games? Turn the language to French
Like watching tv shows? Most Netflix originals are available in French.
Best way to go about learning a language is to have fun!
I don’t have a ton of resources that I can just recommend (mostly because I’m on my phone) but it isn’t that hard to find resources ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
My advice isn’t that great, but personally the most effective and efficient way to learn is to spend a little time actually studying, and a lot of time just talking and exposing yourself to the language.

I hope I helped you in any way! Good luck on your language journey, my friend! 💙💙

how terrifying, to be aging and girl. at 18 i was told by men that i was “the perfect age,” and i still thought it was a compliment. is it because at 20 i figured out how sharp those words were. i felt old at 21, felt like if grey hairs came and my spine cracked i was done for. how scary. i am reminded constantly by “realistic” ideas in fantasy novels that i should have five kids.

my life feels short. like it is squeezed into my twenties. like at 30 i become ghost, just another mother or hard worker or both, just another background character. like if i am not settled and making a difference by 27 i should just give up already. is this something men feel? like a clock is painted on their back, one hand warning: your beauty is something you are valued for and it is something you cannot get back.

and why was i only beautiful, i wonder, at 18 on a riverbank. i’m told often my childish face is a blessing. that i shouldn’t want to look older. one told me i was a trap falling: “you look young but you’re not” he said to me, “it kind of led me on”. am i not young? 

maybe i am wrong. maybe it’s just how we all feel, getting old, like time is slipping from us. maybe men do worry that they will be alone forever if they don’t settle by thirty, maybe it’s even because they think they’ll turn ugly. maybe we all squish our lives into that incredibly young decade. what do i know. i’m still learning.


What we’ve gone through as people, learning about the importance of the LGBT representation on TV, and really understanding the community. A lot more than we potentially did before, adds a certain pressure because then you want to make sure that you do it justice, and make them proud in every moment. And every time I look into Kat’s eyes, I see the importance of it, a lot more than I possibly did before.

“make the princess speak and you will have the crown of kings.”

my knees hurt, as usual, from scrubbing. technically i’m too high of Maid Station to help out with these things, but i like seeing what happens when you clean. the development of things. how a lot of effort can make something. i like learning and trying and working hard to get towards something.

and i’ve seen them, from the back of pillars, from behind cracked doors, from beside her (on the best days) the way they talk to her. oh beautiful won’t you just look at me. oh darling. if you speak i’ll be your prince. if you speak i’ll be your king. 

the princess, i know, finds the lines of suitors boring. it’s in the way her hands are always moving. she hides yawns, leaves early, we make her apologies. once, a man comes and tries to startle her into screaming. she rolls her eyes and looks directly at me. i have to hide my smile behind my sleeve. he is taken away while still screaming.

by accident, i find her once, crying. when we imagine princesses, they always cry daintily. hers is hoarse, angry, and something in it breaks me. in my station i should apologize and bow and leave. instead i am frozen, watching her shoulders heaving.

she looks up and spots me, her cheeks ruddy. i know i should go but instead i make a big show. i act as one of her princes. i make grand gestures and speak in deep voices. i frantically offer her handkerchiefs and trip over my own two feet. a smile crawls up over her, slowly. i dab my sweat away and offer her the used rag. i feign a fluster, turn a terrible cartwheel, make shadow puppets. the sound of her laugh, raw and rusty, sends shivers through me.

for a while, i do not see her after this. but then i am called to her chambers. she is crying again. i offer silly gifts, pebbles and dusting rags and a candlestick from her own kitchen, pretend to steal it, use it as a hat, rock it as a babe. she laughs more easily this time, gladly, and when she laughs i am taken by more important maids, thereby officially Excused.

it goes like this for months. the winter comes. i rarely see her. i spend my week thinking about ways to please her. i knick interesting cookies, show her shiny buttons, learn to cartwheel in a full skirt, and then promptly how to make it look foolish again. i learn how to juggle hot bread and dance as a man would, i learn how to balance on a ball and how to fall down without hurting myself, how to fake a fight with my own body, which colors she likes and which don’t please her.

i show up on a cold eve with a knotted line of scarves hidden down my sleeve, worried and breathless, wondering why she’s been crying. the door opens and she is sitting there, happy. at first i’m confused, but she waves me in. next to her is her small dessert, in two containers. i’m not sure how to respond, so i fake a fall to hear her laugh, and then sit at her feet. she gives me ice cream - so rare a treat. i know what went into making it - the hours of shaking. it’s smooth and tasty. i don’t feign my reaction, but she laughs anyway, kindly. 

it goes like this. i see her more frequently. she likes giving me new things, watching me discover i hate kiwi and love oranges and would die if it made her laugh breathlessly. i’ve made her keel over with cackling and she’s put a fire in me. sometimes we just sit there, quietly, enjoying each other’s company. 

it’s in her hands, always moving. little things i thought were just her, fidgeting. here’s how she says she’s thirsty, this is what her hands do when she needs a second to think, here’s how she shows she’s happy. this is how i learn to speak back to her. around her i spend much of my time smiling. i feel every visit is a gift. a new part to unravel. i find out she doesn’t respond to spoken things, that she needs to be looking in order to know you were speaking. sometimes she has me talk and she holds her hands to the base of my throat, her eyes wide and wondering. sometimes she just looks at me and i forget that i’m her jester in chief. i get caught up in her eyes, in how expressive they are when she’s happy, in how when she’s sad i feel like i’m drowning.

i never see the king or queen, but i know when she’s had a visit with them, because she never comes back happy. two winters i have known her, two winters and now we dine frequently. i am often called to stand beside her, to whisper translations of her desires into the ears of someone more important than i, someone who gets to be the voice of royalty. i can’t decide if i’m her friend or her plaything, but i don’t know i care much of the distinction. every moment i’m near her is a moment free of friction. i take stock of suitors and curtsy to them in daylight only to mock them in the candle’s eye later.

she asks me one night to stay. it has been a bad day. it’s completely not okay. i cannot say no but i cannot, by my station, stay. but she begs with her eyes and her hands and i know i’ll take the punishment. 

we lie beside each other. i make sure to turn to her when i speak. in the dark she can’t see me, so i move my hands in the way i’m learning. she asks if i am ever lonely. i cannot tell her that i am always lonely without her beside me, so instead i say i think all people are very lonely and just are pretending. she laughs a little at that and says she thinks her parents are the two most lonely people that ever met. her mother was like her; broke a fairy curse and talked, just once, although nobody knows what she said. well, excepting her father, who was the only one around, and who won her hand in marriage.

from her mother she learned the art of hands, of speaking without words - from her father she learned that who she was included a curse. that she just wanted someone who would make her open like a rose - someone who could fix her. how she stared out into the royal garden and wished on flowers to be what her kingdom needs.

she fell asleep pressed against me. i couldn’t breathe. i was still awake in the morning. 

the punishment never came. we spent nights like this. the handmaidens had grown to know me. whenever their princess was stubborn, i worked magic and made her lovely.

it was a terrible thing. i did too good a job, i think. the princess glowed too much or shone too brightly - or at least, i saw it that way, so who knows what the truth is. every day it felt like we were being rushed with princes. 

her father’s temper at hosting failed. it was the day before her twenty-first birthday and first time i’d ever seen him. he stormed in at the end of the session. “just speak!” he said, “it’s not that hard! do for others what your mother did!” 

“tomorrow is your last day of this,” he warned her, “either you pick a prince or i pick for you. i’m done with it.”

he stormed off. she was left shellshocked and trembling. that night she didn’t ask me to come, but i waited outside, just in case she changed her mind. i understood why she needed space. either she’d speak and be married tomorrow or she’d be married shortly. i heard her crying and it took everything in my power not to rush in and hold her, cradle her gently. but i cannot come into a room of a royal person without being invited. i stayed there, tears in my own eyes, thinking of treason.

the next day was a huge festival. what had been a birthday celebration was turned into a day about princes. i watched her shake her head. i tried to cheer her up. i tried everything. i frequently came inches from causing public humiliation, toed the line of mocking and failing to acknowledge my station. she wouldn’t smile. not once. not even for anything.

the day was long. the bonfire wore down. i watched her crumple into herself. i was out of ideas. i knelt at her feet. her eyes barely looked at me. just wait, i said to her with my hands, i’ll be right back. i took off running.

the price of stealing is losing my hands. these things that i spoke to her with. these things that mattered so much to me, that helped with my comedy and cleaning. 

i didn’t think of them. i bloodied my fingers when i ripped the royal roses from their stems. and then i ran, as fast as i could, back to her feet. i picked them to show you, i said, as she gasped, looking at my treason, they’re beautiful and nobody told them to open to reveal their secrets to the bees. they are unbroken. as you are. as you always will be. 

she fell off her throne and for a second i was beyond speaking, worried something had happened, or she’d fainted, or i’d said the wrong thing. but then she was on her knees, her arms around me, and i heard it. i heard the soft croak of her speaking. just one word, and it sent shivers down me. my name, in her voice, awkward and unwieldy, but full of love and passion, burning fire through me.

i felt a hand on my shoulder. i was pulled away from her. they already had me in handcuffs while i struggled to get back to her, to tell her i loved her, to beg her to run off with me or maybe just hold me around her, maybe just have her for a moment, because i couldn’t live without her for a moment longer.

they put me in the cells. i rotted in there, for a while or for no time at all, i’m not sure. the thorns scarred my palms. i watched the scabs build up and flake off. every time someone came down, i flinched, wondering if i would be the next to be taken and chopped into bits.

but one day the light was different. not the smoky torch of the jailer, instead a bright light in a lantern. at first when i saw her, my breath caught in my throat, mistaking her for my princess.

but she was my queen. at first we stood in silence. and slowly, i moved my hands to speak. is she married? is what came out, even though i should be more worried about me myself and me.

she is not. she bit her father on the arm when he tried to make her. then she fought him. and then ran away. it took us a bit to find her, i’m afraid. she threatened her own life and the life of everyone in this place. the queen was smiling. i was told there was a young woman who could make the princess speak, whom she would die to save, who brought roses to her feet. someone in a cell, rotting. are you her?

the memory of her voice rang through me. i’m she.

yes, her hands said, for even now, aren’t you speaking to the silent Queen?

she opened the door. come, she said, let’s get you cleaned up for the ceremony.

the crown of kings. when she wraps her arms around my neck and laughs next to me, i am royalty. when she smiles or makes a joke or asks to see my cartwheel again, i’m lost in her. i kiss her whenever i can, which is often. we have roses in a vase at the base of our bed, and for all of the kingdom, i’d give my hands if it would keep her laughing.

the next time she spoke was just once, at our wedding, where she said the two words i do to bind us for eternity. she had learned from me, from holding her hands over my voicebox, the way i learned from her how to use hands to speak. sometimes at night she says my name, just because she likes what it does to me.

i’m more blessed than a king. every day i spend with her is a day i spend happily. 

My mother tells me
that when I meet someone I like,
I have to ask them three questions:

1. what are you afraid of?
2. do you like dogs?
3. what do you do when it rains?

of those three, she says the first one is the most important.
“They gotta be scared of something, baby. Everybody is. If they aren’t
afraid of anything, then they don’t believe in anything, either.”

I met you on a Sunday, right
after church.
one look and my heart fell into
my stomach like a trap door.

on our second date,
I asked you what you were afraid of.
“spiders, mostly. being alone. little children, like, the ones who just
learned how to push a kid over on the playground. oh and space. holy shit, space.”
I asked you if you liked dogs.
“I have three.”
I asked you what you do when it rains.
“sleep, mostly. sometimes I sit at the window and watch the rain
droplets race. I make a shelter out of plastic in my backyard for all the stray animals; leave them food and a place to sleep.”

he smiled like he knew.
like his mom told him the same
“how about you?”

I’m scared of everything.
of the hole in the o-zone layer,
of the lady next door who never
smiles at her dog,
and especially of all the secrets
the government must be breaking
it’s back trying to keep from us.
I love dogs so much, you have no idea.
I sleep when it rains.
I want to tell everyone I love them.
I want to find every stray animal and bring them home.
I want to wake up in your hair
and make you shitty coffee
and kiss your neck
and draw silly stick figures of us.
I never want to ask anyone else
these questions
ever again.
—  Caitlyn Siehl, “Three Questions”
How to Find Purpose in Life

1. Take time to ponder the questions “What really matters in life; what do I want to have achieved when I look back over my life?”

2. Make time for solitude and silence. Filling every minute makes it hard to listen to our intuition, or that inner guiding voice.

3. Seek out people who inspire you – and then learn from them. There are many people who live inspiring lives. We can learn from their experience, and what they have to share.

4. Consciously monitor your progress. It is easy to slip back into unproductive habits. Hence, we need to be committed to sticking to our plan.

5. Accept that struggles and setbacks will be part of your experience. There will be times when you are tempted to give up and stop trying … but choosing to keep going will lead you to your dreams.

kogumasden  asked:

First, lemme say that I love your art <3 I'm not talking shit, I do like it, seriously. Mind if I ask you for any tips for learning how to draw dragons, specially heads? I've been trying to learn those bastards, and I thought that looking at real lizards would be helpful, but a dragon skull and a lizard skull don't quite match if you know what I mean. Thank you in advance!

Yeah definitely! The good thing about dragons is they’re complete fantasy, so you can push the anatomy pretty far and draw your inspiration from practically anywhere. Reptiles, birds, bats, mammals. 

BUT it’s easier to create your own believable anatomy when you’re comfortable and familiar with drawing anatomy for other animals. A strong understanding of anatomy will carry you a long way. Being able to mentally conceptualize your design in 3D helps too.

I really enjoy looking at dinosaurs for dragon facial inspiration. Bats and birds are great for wings and musculature but I don’t have time to get into that.

Dragons are fun because you can design such unusual and striking silhouettes for them.

The best thing about dragons is you can draw them as alien or as terran as you want. Take your inspiration from anywhere, go wild! There’s absolutely no set form to stick to.

But I Googled it!

The internet is a wonderful thing and ranks up there with some of the greatest inventions of mankind. There is almost nothing that exists or doesn’t that cannot be found and learned about. We do it so often and without even thinking that we have a term for it: Googling. I love looking things up and falling into a Wikipedia hole. Personally I have lost entire evenings simply trying to look up how to re-pot an orchid only to learn about the Haber-Bosch process before somehow ending up reading about art nouveau. Often I preach that there isn’t an excuse not to know about something because information is so readily accessible. But there is a dark side to Google.

In my real life as well as online I often see people advising against medical care for their pets, telling them to Google something first. This happens often here after I give advice, usually “go see  a vet” and someone will say nah you can just Google what to do. The problems are many but the main ones are that regardless of what anyone says, you cannot diagnose diseases via internet. If you look up vomiting and not eating in cats you will come up with dozens of things that cause these symptoms. Let’s say you decide its cancer and decide there is nothing to be done so just try to provide comfort for your cat. Finally you take the cat in to the vet and the vet finds thread under the tongue. Turns out your cat ate a sewing needle and this could have been treated but the needle ruptured through the GI tract and caused a fatal infection. This actually happened.

The other issue is that I portray myself as a veterinarian online (and in fact, really am one). If some guy on a reptile forum tells you your bearded dragon has metabolic bone disease and it dies even after you give calcium, it’s sad but reptile forum guy won’t suffer consequences. If I as a veterinarian internet diagnose your dragon as having NSHP but really it has atadenovirus I could be accused of practicing without a valid client patient relationship and could be fined or even lose my license. Atadenovirus often mimics the exact signs and symptoms of NSHP and is untreatable, contagious, and fatal. The above scenario is also real and happened to a colleague of mine.

So please understand that nobody can diagnose your pet over the internet and it really is in the best interest of your pet to go seek veterinary care if you have a question, but as a vet I really can’t give specific advice for your pet because of that reason and also because it could endanger my license. People in forums and Tumblr generally mean well but if your pet dies they don’t have any skin in the game and it doesn’t affect them, always keep that in mind. Continue being kind to one another and offering general advice but if you are concerned enough that you reach out to a vet online, you need to go see one in real life.

All of the angry anti-radfem stuff that I see about periods has lately been bothering me. I’ve been in my bed today, with heating pads and ibuprofen, trying to distract myself from my uterus twisting around, and I’ve been giving it some thought.

A few days ago I saw someone say that older radfems “teach younger women to drink period blood”. I see complains about uterus artwork, about women who use period blood in their wiccan/witchcraft rituals, women being asked not to speak about their periods as women, and of course women describing vulvas as a “nightmare of flesh”. We’re accusing of reducing ourselves to genitalia, of being obsessed with our periods, told that nobody is oppressed because of their menstrual cycle (sometimes, of course, they add “in America”, as if female oppression is something else we’ve outsourced).

My mom told me that, when she was a kid, she didn’t wrap up a tampon enough when she threw it in the trash. Her dad called her in and hit her because “her brothers could have seen”. She tells me that one of the first times she fell in love with my dad was when she found out he kept tampons in his bathroom “just in case”. 

I remember being told that I couldn’t use the bathroom once in middle school, as I had already gone that class. My friend gave me a sweatshirt to tie around my waist after I bled through my pants. 

I remember in gym class, when we went out to run, trying to explain to my male teacher that I couldn’t run because I was on my period. He told me that I didn’t have a sick note and that telling him was inappropriate. I threw up on the track.

When I talk to doctors about my irregular periods, they tell me I must use hormonal birth control. We don’t have any medications that weren’t made to make women sexually available. The “period” you get on birth control is withdrawal from hormones. Nobody tells me for years that hormonal birth control doesn’t mix with mood disorders. Five doctors put me on this routine. Each time I go crazy. When I refuse with the last doctor, tell her I can’t do it again, she tells me to “grow up”.

My period hurts, hurts more than it should, with PCOS. My grandmother had it, had surgery after surgery like many women in her family, to remove ovaries bit by bit. They wouldn’t take them all out at first because, the doctors said, they might want to give birth. My grandmother calls it “her cancer”, because that’s how the doctor described it to her.

I know a woman who passed out in class. The teacher called an ambulance, and when they got there and she woke up she was mortified. She had endometriosis and she was angry that others had seen her in pain. I read later that cramps can be more painful than a heart attack. 

I ask if I can postpone a meeting at a job until the next day. My co-worker asks if I am PMSing because I’ve been so grumpy all day. I go to the restroom and vomit, because the nausea from my period is so awful. I miss days sometimes because I can’t make it out of bed.

So when I see positivity about periods, when I see people trying to make art about this thing we have in common, when I see women talking about ways to make their period more comfortable, when I see the stitched pads they make, when I see people who can view the period as somehow divine, I truly do appreciate it. It isn’t gross, or awful. What’s gross and awful is telling us to be silent, not letting us learn, not making accommodations, the idea that this is a thing that we have to actively hide.

I don’t think those things are “glorifying” periods, but so what if they are? I think that taking something that hurts and making it into something positive and beautiful is incredible. I think that accepting ourselves as we are and finding ways to love that are some of the best things we can do in life.

So, as I lay here, in a lot of pain, I just want to say thanks for all the talk about menstruation. I love your uterus art. I love the things that I’ve learned from women about menstruation–why we have periods and how that relates to our bodies avoiding pregnancy, what normal periods should look like, signs and symptoms of gynecological disorders, and how to use menstrual products that are less toxic to our bodies.

Our periods shouldn’t have a stigma, and we should remember that we aren’t alone. Cheers, and I hope all of you have a great day today :)

How to Find your Purpose

1. Take time to ponder the questions “What really matters in life; what do I want to have achieved when I look back over my life?”

2. Make time for solitude and silence. Filling every minute makes it hard to listen to our intuition, or that inner guiding voice.

3. Seek out people who inspire you – and then learn from them. There are many people who live inspiring lives. We can learn from their experience, and what they have to share.

4. Consciously monitor your progress. It is easy to slip back into unproductive habits. Hence, we need to be committed to sticking to our plan.

5. Accept that struggles and setbacks will be part of your experience. There will be times when you are tempted to give up and stop trying … but choosing to keep going will lead you to your dreams.