marbled sweater

there are four types of people:

neon signs, biting your lip, adrenalin, late night talks, vintage vinyls, raspberries

journals and stationery, whispers, feeling sleepy, browsing wikipedia for 2 hours, streets in foreign cities, sculptures

daisies, the sound of laughter, pressed flowers, genuine compliments, oversized sweaters

marble, sarcasm, old books, lightning, skyscrapers, crystals, proving them wrong

the-intovert  asked:

I HOPE to see more reference's it would take my BREATH away i spend too much TIME on this blog maybe i need to go outside in an open SPACE to see some sunLIGHT but that is a tragedy since going outside would be my DOOM Isnt LIFE is full of HEARTS for you guys you guys can fill eachothers VOID and calm down eachother RAGE That took my full concentration and MIND (I am such a nerd lol)

hehehehehehehe

youtube

Quadruple Dog Sweater 

What are the odds?

A cute Dean x Reader oneshot which is slightly long and I hope you don´t mind. 

Request:  Could you do one with Dean where you were a hunter and you and Dean were in love, like the love of his life but one day you left and about a year later he runs into you (idk how, you can choose the situation!) and he sees that you’re holding an adorable baby girl and he meets his daughter for the first time

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: none

Length: 2415 Words

Originally posted by heytheredeann

Enjoy!

Dean had never thought he´d ever see you again.
Ever since you bailed on him a little over a year ago, he thought that that was it, that you were done with being with someone like him, that you had enough of worrying about him whenever he was on a hunt and that you decided to rip that band aid off quickly by leaving in the middle of the night.
And even though he was heartbroken at first, after all he had loved you, he understood.
You weren´t a hunter, never would be, and he got that you wanted out of that dangerous downward spiral called his life.
But when he noticed you in that supermarket in Florida, he just couldn´t help himself.
He had to go over and talk to you, had to make sure you were doing ok, had to make sure that it had been the right decision for you to leave him after all.
You were just trying to reach for something on top of the shelf, and he went in, picking the thing from up above.
You still had your back towards him and already started talking: “Thank´s, it really is a curse to be that small sometimes, I…”
That was the moment you turned around and your eyes, your beautiful eyes he remembered so well, grew wide: “Dean?”
He just smiled: “Hey there, long time no see.”
You were obviously pretty overwhelmed with the situation, clutching the bag of cereal he had just gotten you from the top of the shelf:
“Dean, what are you doing here? Wait, I don´t wanna know.”
Right then it came to him that he hadn´t thought that trough, what was he supposed to say now?
Finally he went for: “I just wanted to make sure you were okay, you know.”
You nodded eagerly: “Yeah, right. I´m fine. I hope you are too.”
It was a very forced conversation and he noticed that you were more than willing to get away from him, which hurt him a little bit.
And just when he was about to just say goodbye and accept that whatever the two of you had back in the days was gone for good, the baby in the cart a few feet away from you started crying.
Both of your heads snapped towards it and Dean estimated that the baby had to be about four months old.
There was no one else in the row and he wondered who would leave an infant child alone like that, when you walked over there, taking it out of it´s seat and placed it on your hip:
“Shh Shila, we´re going home soon, I promise.”
You weren´t paying him attention at all and for a second he just stared at the scene, bewildered by the strange sight of seeing you hold a baby.
And then he did the math.
He swallowed dryly and ran a hand trough his hair, searching for the right words.
He had been trough this once before, years ago when he had met his ex-lover Lisa and seen her eight year old son.
Back then it hadn´t been his and he had been glad.
But right now this only could mean two things: Either you had cheated on him a year ago, which would then also be the reason you had left, or, and he wasn´t even able to think about this possibility, this was his baby.
“Uhm (Y/N)?”, he made and it was the first time you looked at him again, your eyes wide.
The baby had stopped crying, seemingly already sound asleep in his mothers arms.
“I have to go”, you said quickly and made an attempt to leave but he caught your wrist:
“What the hell (Y/N)?”, he asked and looked meaningful at little Shila.
You gave him a look that was a mixture of desperation and exasperation: “Let me go or I scream”, you said matter of factly and he knew that you meant it.
In order not to cause a scene, he let go of you reluctantly but still stared at you.
You could have left then, could have just let him stand there, forever wondering if you were holding his child or if you had betrayed him, but you didn´t, which showed him that maybe it wasn´t all gone.
Instead you rolled your eyes: “Alright fine, I don´t want to discuss that now. If you want to talk, come to my apartment.”
You reached into your pocket, go a pen and took his hand to write your address on the inside of his hand.
Then you let it go as if touching him for too long would burn you: “I get off work at ten pm so you can come by at eleven.”
And without waiting for him to answer, you left, leaving all your groceries behind, obviously too eager to get away from him.


When he approached the small white house that fitted the address you had written down for him, he was still halfway sure that you had given him a fake one.
That when he walked up to the door, he would find an elder couple that would tell him that they know no (Y/N).
But when he climbed up the stairs of the porch and reached the front door, there was a plate that said “(Y/L/N)”.
His heart was beating a little faster then usual and he cursed himself for being nervous.
This was you after all, the girl he had dated for over two years.
And yet, today in the supermarket, it had been as if the two of you were strangers, acquaintances who knew each other a long time ago and now didn´t know what to talk about.
He sighed and brought himself to ring the door bell.
For a second, nothing happened, but then a light went on in the room behind the door and after another ten seconds, you pulled open the door.
You were wearing tight blue jeans and a cute, red sweater.
He always liked red on you best because it somehow fitted you so well. He would have told you, but it just didn´t seem right.
“Hi”, he just said and did a little wave with his hand.
You stepped aside to let him in: “Hi, I just got off work and the babysitter only left seconds ago, so it´s a little messy and I haven´t prepared anything.”
He stepped in and very well noticed that you seemed on edge.
You took the lead and he followed you into a small but nice kitchen that had a round table with three chairs and a marble kitchen aisle.
“Sit down, I´ll get you a glass of water if you like”, you said and didn´t wait for an answer before turning around and reaching for a glass and a bottle of water.

If Dean turned his head, he could see into a living room with a blue sofa and there were lots of toys laying on the ground.
The baby was nowhere to be seen tough, most likely sound asleep somewhere.
You placed the glass in front of him and he took it, glad to at least have something to put his hands around:
“This is a real nice house, where did you get it?”
It was a weak attempt of small talk, but he took what he could get.
You just shrugged: “It used to belong to my grandma, but she died a few years ago and since my parents are gone too, I was the only heir.”
You had never told him about that and for a second he thought about what it would be like to life a normal life in this beautiful house with you and probably kids.
And then there was this question again, the question why he came here in the first place.
“So…”, he said, his voice trailing off nervously, “about what I saw in the supermarket today…”
He couldn´t say it, at least not really, which was ridiculous because he was Dean Winchester, he always found the right words.
But usually he knew exactly what he wanted when he talked to people. This time he wasn´t sure for which answer he hoped.
You were leaning against the marble counters, your sweater just high enough above your jean´s waistband to show a small stripe of skin.
It were things he just noticed, this was you after all.
Your arms were crossed above your chest and you just looked at him, your eyes less annoyed than this morning, more sad.
After a while you sighed: “Okay look, you have to know that the only reason I did what I did, was because I wanted the best for everyone. I still do.
So please promise me that you won´t freak out.”
He nodded, his fingers clenching the glass of water, and you looked him directly into the eyes:
“The baby girl you saw this morning, Shila, she´s… She´s our daughter.”
Now it was out there, the thing he had known all along, had known since he had seen you pick her up from the cart.
And yet it surprised him completely, took him off guard and almost made him choke on his own saliva.
“I can´t believe it”, he said, looking down, not able to face you right now.
“I can´t believe you would hide something like this from me. Why would you do something like that?”
He could feel how it got him worked up, how his emotions were overflowing, how this was all too much.
And then he looked back up, seeing you cry, seeing tears, black from the mascara you were wearing, running down your cheeks:
“I did it to protect the baby. This life, the life you and Sam were living, the life I was living with you, it wasn´t for a child”, you explained and he knew that of course you were right, that living on the road, crashing in crappy motels and hunting monsters, was by no means an environment to raise a child.
And yet he felt betrayed, his right as a father stolen from him.
“I know that my life isn´t right for a child. But maybe, if you had told me, we could have find a solution, we could have found a way.
We could have gotten out.”
That was when a dry laugh left your throat: “Are you kidding me? I know you, Dean. Nothing could have made you stop, ever.
It would have always been a tie, a tie between me and the baby and all the evil out in the world. And I wouldn´t have that. It´s too much.”
You wiped the tears away and turned around to take a tissue while he searched his head for the right words:
“You don´t know that. You know why you don´t? Because we never tried. You never gave us the chance.”
You faced away from him when you said:
“I just couldn´t Dean. You know, I was always afraid, always afraid that one day I would get a call from Sam, telling me that you died on a hunt, that it was over and that we would have to burn your corpse.
And I put up with it because I loved you, because I was used to loosing people after what happened to my parents.
But when I found out that I´m pregnant, I just couldn´t do it to my child.
I couldn´t bare the thought of her waking up one day, to find out that her daddy was dead, that the person she loved most in the world was gone for good, because I know how it feels.
And she wasn´t going to be me.
I wouldn´t let her.
And I figured that it would be easier for her to live without a Dad from the very beginning, then loving him and then loosing him.”
Dean couldn´t see your face all trough your speech, but he knew that you were completely serious, that this was exactly what you had felt and he got it.
He didn´t like it, never would, but he got it.
Slowly, he stood up, making a step towards you and carefully placing a hand on your back:
“I understand”, he said, and he did, “but let me tell you, that if you allowed me to stay, hell if you only so much as leave the possibility of me being with you, of me being with my child, of me having a family with you, I drop everything else to do it.
I love you (Y/N), always have, always will. And I only met my daughter like ten hours ago, but I love her too.
And I want to get to know her, want to be a Dad. And I promise I won´t leave ever again.
Never.”
He could feel your body tremble with sobs, and it took two more minutes for you to finally turn around.
And when you did, your (Y/E/C) eyes looking up at him in the most perfect way possible, he couldn´t do anything else but kiss you.
Maybe it was wrong, maybe he shouldn´t, maybe you were going to throw him out now and maybe he had just lost his only chance to meet his daughter, but he just had to do it.
And luckily you kissed him back, kissed him so passionately that he picked you up and sat you down on the counter go get better access to your lips.
He stroked over your back, cupped your face, pressed himself against you as if there was no tomorrow.
And then your lips where gone, only inches away from his but still gone.
“Is this real?”, you asked quietly, your voice still trembling a bit.
He looked into your eyes: “I want it to be real. I want all of this to be real. I want a real family, a real child, a real house, maybe a real wife. I want you.”
He said all of this from deep in his heart and you smiled against his lips: “Sounds like you´re all in, Winchester.”
Dean grinned: “With you, I´m always all in.”
He gave you another peck on the lips and then rested his forehead on yours: “So, can I finally meet my daughter?”
Instead of answering his question, you popped the first button on his shirt: “Well, she´s asleep now anyways and it would be unwise to wake her. But don´t worry, I know a thing or two you could do to me – I mean we could do, to keep us distracted until she wakes up.”
Instead of an answer, he picked you up, you circling his waist with your legs: “Sounds like a plan.”

Fingers reach down to cradle his choice of latte macchiato as his obsidian eye her from across the small table she had picked. She’s as cute as she always is in her three quarter length sleeved marble sweater, light gray infinite scarf, and black shorts with lace patterns at the end—there’s never a point when he hasn’t thought she’s cute. There’s another giggle that slips passed her lips and fingers typing away as he brings the macchiato to his lips taking the warm liquid in. She’s not chatting with him but she’s very much chatting away with someone else.

So it’s no secret. I totes believe Sasuke is all about that espresso, and milk, my dudes. Sasuke’s a total coffee drinker in my head–especially in College AUs.

iwillfightforthis

Seriously, man. Marble Hornets, I could sing the praises for this series forever. The makers are the sweetest people you could ever meet and they care about their fans and they made the series not even knowing how popular it would get, on their own dime. 

Then in the series itself we have a pretty strong female character (ok not really but for a horror series? set in the South? fuck yes) and there are male characters that are allowed to cry and be weak and not be shown as negative. mental ilnesses are shown as scary, but for the people suffering from them, not for “oh look how scary this *crazy* person is”

They had a funding thing where buying a MH tshirt would donate $5 to the national mental health research funding.

like. best sereis ever, best makers ever, this series is so inventive and fun to watch and is the series that inspired me to write movies. 

and it’s getting a semi-not-really-but-set-in-the-same-canon sequel!

Little Girly MBTI Things

INTP: Little smudges of mascara on your lenses because you forgot to let it dry before you put your glasses back on

INTJ: Wearing the same shirt two days in a row because no one saw you wear it yesterday

ENTP: Nude lip gloss

ENTJ: High heels clicking on marble tiles

INFP: Big, comfy sweaters, with sleeves that go over your hands

INFJ: A “perfect” messy bun

ENFP: graphic t-shirts from your favorite fandom

ENFJ: handmade friendship bracelets that you’ve worn for years

ISTP: Picking at your nail polish and wondering why the heck you wasted your time painting them

ISFP: Leftover glitter on your eyeshadow brush

ESTP: Grass stains on your jeans because someone said girls can’t play football and you had to prove them wrong

ESFP: Missing the bus because you tried on seven different outfits before deciding what to wear to school

ISTJ: A perfect French manicure

ISFJ: Those little strands of hair that you tuck behind your ears after they escape your french braid

ESTJ: Wearing a button-up shirt and feeling all professional

ESFJ: Talking to your friend on the phone while trying on dresses for a party

5

Lazy Daiso and ect haul!!! Smoll bc there were ppl w me…😒😔

✨ Daiso (all $2.80) ✨
💖Comfy time socks x3
💖Hedgehog wool socks x3
💖Kawaii eye mask
💖Gold silk blotting paper
💖3pack toothbrushes
💖Makeup pencil sharpener
(Total $28)

✨ Uniqlo ✨
💖Heattech tights $15
💖Heattech sleeveless top $15

✨ Glassons ✨
💖Blue knit sweater $50
💖Cashew marble turtleneck sweater $50

✨ Target ✨
💖Sally Hanson complete care 7 in 1 $17
💖Manicure crystal nail file $16

✨TOTAL $191 ✨