my little sister :)

things i love about Shiro
  • wears New York Black™
  • the dad friend
  • that fresh fade
  • literally so beautiful, inside and out
  • soft and delicate
  • but like also terrifyingly adept at fighting 
  • just wants to help  
  • he is also just, so damn beefy like hot damn 
  • will not let Lance make dirty jokes
  • is A Dork™
  • “let’s take a break” “let’s break for now” “let’s break”
    *everyone sits down for 2 minutes* 
    “wHAT ARE YOU DOING WE CAN’T TAKE A BREAK!?”
  • sometimes he just  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
  • honestly probably needs a 5 hour hug
  • feels so responsible for everything all the time
  • the most bestest, most genuine person
  • when he smiles i am undone, my son
  • literally did nothing wrong
  • encourages everyone to do and be their best while struggling with his own self doubt 
  • *also side eyes people on the reg* 
  • this screenshot:  
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HOLY MOLY 4000 FOLLOWERS!?!?! I’m amazed! I’m astounded!! I’m shocked!!! I’m crying, I’m so happy right now! Thank you so much for all the continuous support! I’m going to be taking a little break from tumblr for awhile for spring break to finish a lot of project I have rn, but as soon as I’m done I’ll come back and post all the goodies I’ve been working on! Thank you so much again babes! Please enjoy some Big brother Percy

So my little sister had the best headcanon ever and I am going to quote it here for everyone to enjoy:

headcanon: the final pam, within the world of fallout, is an eldritch entity badly attempting to blend in with humans
she thinks everyone is her son because she honestly doesn’t grasp the difference between ‘alive’ or 'dead’ or 'organic’ or 'inorganic’
this is her metal son. she has an attractive metal husband who is alive. thus her metal son is alive, and is merely pupating.
etc etc
she looks at herself in the mirror and goes
'you nailed it, Pamoleth. This is how a human looks.’
'what a beautiful human face.’

there’s something to be said for nights in. nights with friends and siblings and lovers spent wrapped up in blankets, on balconies, in bedrooms, on sofas… putting the world on pause for those you care about. but there’s also something to be said for nights out. nights with those very same people in streets, parking lots, crowded cars, music turned high or playing low… where the world is in motion all around you.

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Is there anybody going to listen to my story? All about the girl who came to stay. She’s the kind of girl you want so much it makes you sorry. Still, you don’t regret a single day. A girl. Girl.

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Princess Celestial Solstice - Her jewelry was modeled after that of the ancient Egyptian rulers and upper-classmen; golden and dazzling with bright colors and simple patterns. I decided to take this route because the Egyptians most revered god, Ra, was the ruler of the sun, just as she is.

Princess Lunar Lullaby - A bit harder to bring to life, her accessories were thought of when the idea of a dream catcher came to mind. Walking in the dreams of others and finding spirituality in the night reminded me of a lot of Native American culture. So, I used beads and feathers to capture the native idea, and silver to bring out the more cool colors of the moon.

~ SPN 12x15 coda ~

This is my voicemail. Make your voice…a mail.

Dean pursed his lips and pulled his phone away from his ear. Three missed calls…where was Cas? 

Usually, if he was not back home by this time – Dean tapped his screen. 10:47 pm – then he was at a hotel for the night. By now, Cas would have texted Dean to check in. To let him know that everything was all right. Maybe he was too tired to carry on an actual conversation. Maybe that’s why he sounded off on the phone earlier,

After a moment of staring at his phone, Dean opened it up and found the messages between himself and Cas. No reason he couldn’t text Cas first, right?

10:48 pm // Any more news about Dagon?

He stared at his screen until it went black. Sighing, Dean set his cell down on his nightstand and pulled off his flannel shirt, tossing it on the foot of his bed. He toed off his heavy boots and kicked them away before he tugged off his jeans. As he sat down, he glanced over at his phone.

Still no notification. Maybe Cas’ phone was dead?

Dean slipped under the covers and sat still for a second before reaching under and yanking off his socks. He threw them across the room and rested his arm behind his head. He stared at the ceiling for a long while, watching the shadows from the lamp creep over the popcorn ceiling.

His phone buzzed. Twice. 

Dean jolted up and rubbed his eyes with one hand and grabbed his cell with the other. His shoulders sagged as he rested his phone on his knee. It was only Crowley. If he actually wanted to talk to Dean, he would call him – several times in succession until Dean picked up, judging by past experiences. 

Dean unlocked his phone with a swipe of his thumb and his eyes fell to Cas’ contact picture. It was one that Dean took who know how many moths ago during a lull in a research session. In the picture, Cas was glaring over the top of Sam’s computer at Dean in response to his endless attempts to get his attention. 

“Hey, Cas,” he said, clearing his throat. He glanced up at his closed bedroom door before continuing. “I…I know it’s been a while since I’ve prayed. But that’s because you’ve been here. And, well…you’re gone now.”

He frowned, tapping his phone on his knee. Yes, Dean talked to him today – just hours ago, even – but something was wrong. Sam did not seem to notice, but Dean did. “I don’t know what to do,” he said, though not necessarily to Cas. 

“I need you here, man. You help me, you know? More than I’ll ever be able to say.” His eyes darted up to the ceiling and back down to the phone. “I’m over-reacting, huh?…You’re probably just tired.” Dean gave his phone a half-hearted smile, his eyes drooping in exhaustion. He really should try to sleep soon.

12:12 am, his phone read when he tapped the screen. He hesitated for only a second after unlocking it before he decided to call Cas again. Dean’s fingers tightened around his phone as he raised it to his ear. “Come on, buddy. Pick up.” 

His plea was answered by the trilly dial-tone, which rang three times before there was a soft click on the other end. Dean’s breath hitched in anticipation as Cas said, This is my voicemail. Make you – 

He hung up the phone and tossed it away. It bounced off the pillow next to him and onto the bed. Dean rubbed his hands over his face, sighing. “Where are you, Cas?”