idk why i thought of this tbh, hope you enjoy. send in some requests guys. just felt the need to clarify that when i call him lanky i mean it as a compliment, lanky guys are the best. this could turn into a father series idk x bel <3
Philip hugged himself, glaring at the damp moss clinging onto the forest trees and bare ground. His shoulders jerked each time his lungs hiccuped, soft breathes echoing the humiliation and pain he felt. He ran away from his Papa’s home and into the forest neighboring town. He didn’t want his mother seeing him like this, especially with her already being so torn up in her own pain. She didn’t feel like the same person anymore. She cottled him more now; held him close and reminded him how much she loved him with such pain in her voice. As if he’d hurt her too, if he didn’t know.
Pip squeezed his eyes shut, hugging himself tighter and gritted his teeth. His father ruined everything. His mother was in pain. The family name was scorned, dampened by his father’s carelessness and shredded by his vocality.
“I hate him.” Philip snapped, and it didn’t feel wrong to say it. He opening his eyes to glare at nature, for it was too beautiful for him to stand. The trees and their calmness mocked him. He dug his nails into the coat he wore, anger flustering up inside him. “I hate you.” He declared, raising his head at the thickets in outrage to their silence, “I hate the trees, I hate this stupid town, and I hate my father, and I hate the damn woman who ruined my family!”
“That’s a lot of hate coming out of your heart.”
Philip turned his head in surprise, rushing to rub at the corner of his eyes when he realized it was a man who stood beside him. “Who’re you?”
“John.” The man replied simply, staring off into the trees with question. He turned to look down at Philip, a gentle smile coming across his face, “What’d the trees do to you to make you hate them?”
“It…” Philip hesitated for a bit, then furrowed his eyebrows and turned his head away from the man to glare back into the forest. “None of your business.”
“Ah, I see. It’s so dastardly, it’s become unspeakable. What have they done? Murdered your father?”
Philip turned to look back, surprised when he saw John was sitting on the ground beside him. He had not heard him sit down, but that was the least of his concerns. He was not in the joking mood, nor the mood to speak to a stranger about his family drama.
“If only I was so lucky.” Philip said flatly. He watched as John looked to him in surprise, then tilt his head and frown. He seemed to think for a moment, before turning back to look in front of himself.
“You’re too young to hate the world.” John said softly.
“Remind me what the proper age of hating the world is?” Philip asked sarcastically, furrowing his eyebrows in frustration as John laughed. He didn’t find that funny at all. He doesn’t like being spoken to like a child; he can decide what he hates and what he doesn’t!
“You are your father’s son.”
“Don’t say that.” Philip barked out before he could control himself. He dug his nails into his arms once again as John turned to him with a questionable look.
“My father’s a horrible man.” Philip informed, frustrated that John was acting as though he knew nothing of the horrendous act he’s done. He was a cheater. He destroyed them. He’s broken Philip’s family.
He’s broken my mom, Philip thought as his throat tightened.
“He’s not a horrible man.” John shook his head, “Misguided, but not horrible.”
“What do you know?” He snapped, outraged that John would even dare to defend his father, “You’re probably some scoundrel looking for a peak at what’s inside his family now that he’s shattered them.”
“I’m not a spy in disguise,” John frowned, “merely telling you… not to hate him.”
“I won’t forgive him.” Philip sneered.
“You shouldn’t.” John nodded, tilting his head, “But you can’t hold it against him forever. He regrets his decisions, Pip. He hates himself just as much as you hate him right now.”
“Pip…” Philip echoed, blinking in surprise and tightened his shoulders, “How do you know that nickname?”
“He hurt your mom, and I know you hate him for that. I’d resent it as well.” John gave a strained laugh, looking away and ignoring his question, “He was wrong, Philip. He made a horrible decision. But he’s owning up to it– admitting, not in the most charismatic way. Your mother and he are the ones who need to settle this, Philip. Not you.”
“I want to protect her.” Philip’s voice broke, and he felt another wave of sorrow wash over, “I don’t want her sad anymore.”
“She’s strong.” John looked to him, offering a gentle smile, “She’ll put him in his place. You just need to help get over the ache in your own heart, Pip.”
“… He hurt us.” Philip whispered, turning away and staring at the ground. He didn’t want another man seeing him cry, but he couldn’t help it. It hurt. The stinging in his heart hurt far worst then any bullet could damage.
“And he would do anything to turn back time to stop himself,” John’s voice was growing soft, “But he can’t. And he’ll do his damn best to show you how much he regrets it.”
“But does he?” Philip wondered out loud, “Does he regret it? Wouldn’t he have not done it if he knew he’d regret it?” He waited for an answer, then looked over to see if John was thinking or not. But to his surprise, John wasn’t there anymore. He vanished.
“J-John?” Philip called, looking around the opening for the man.
Where did he go? He frowned, then looked back to the ground he sat on and brought his knees up to burry his face in. He was so tired. He wanted to go home and lay his head on his mom’s lap. He wanted to go home and see his dad. He wants to be with his family.
Philip sighed and brought his head up, getting onto his feet and brushing off his pants and jacket. He has a family waiting for him back at his Papa’s home. He wants to see Auntie Angelica. He wants to see his sister. He looked back, then turned to trail himself back to his home. He’ll be strong.
And I’ll help… heal my ache, Philip thought, recalling John’s words. He wished he could have thanked him before he left– maybe he’ll get to see him again one day.
Skincare for me touches 3 of the four areas that Jessie discussed on why skincare can be and should be a part of your self-care routine. Skincare can do do wonders in terms of the physical, mental and emotional.
I’m going to tell you loves a little story. For years, I have hated my face and I detest my skin. I have my good days, but the number of bad days have outweighed the good. I’ve always had really dry skin, skin that cracks and sometimes will bleed no matter the amount of lotion I put on or how often. The skin of my face however is a different story. It’s the most evil of skin types, oily and dry. How this happened I have no clue but I have been in a struggle with my skin for years. Skincare has always been one of those things where I knew what I was supposed to do (wash my face, don’t go to sleep without taking off makeup, etc, etc.). I had breakouts here and there but nothing too major, then I got pregnant and my body basically gave a giant middle finger and became even more of a diva than it previously was. For the last 3 ½ years I have been battling rosacea, acne, followed by wrinkles (lets face it I’m getting older and I used to smoke), and then the most recent trauma is a bout with cystic acne. It was a huge hot mess that left me in tears and wanting to avoid mirrors, eye contact and anything where people looked at me for prolonged periods of time. I was a mess and I had no idea how to change it, so I went back to one of the best skills you can have, research. I started watching videos on acne and how to treat it, monitored my diet and cataloged things that made it worse, things to eat to make it better. Against my better judgement, I even further restricted my coffee intake and increased my water. I felt a lot better, healthier but my skin was still rebelling and if at all possible was even drier and more horrible looking. Once again I started researching to an alternative to American skincare since even the organics were drying my skin so badly I was peeling.
It was almost like a bright beam of light descended down and was sang to me of Korean Skincare products. I wanted to just dive in but I took my time, did my research, read reviews, watched tutorials, looked at ingredients. Before I knew it not only did I have a better understanding of skincare but I had a better idea of how I operated. I knew what foods I tolerated, which I didn’t, how much coffee I needed to drink to not be a raging she-demon and how much water to not get a headache (a lot of my headaches I now know are from hydration issues) and most importantly by researching and logging what I was doing I felt a sense of accomplishment and control over myself. I was doing something purely for myself and not anyone else and that was a huge step forward and made me see that skincare is not just about looking pretty, but for me it is deeper and definitely a big part of my self-care. It forces me to take time for myself and really slow down and concentrate on me. I have a routine and focusing on the routine and the pampering nature of a night routine helps me sleep better and I feel better knowing that I did something for myself that day.
Skincare can be a really long process and very involved. Be patient with yourself and do not be afraid to try different things, see what works for you. Do your research and make sure that you include yourself, not only will you find physical care but mental care from getting to really know yourself and let’s face it glowing happy skin makes you feel better about yourself. Feeling better about yourself and being happy with yourself are so very important in creating a healthy and fulfilling life.
I wish you all the best if you start in a skincare = selfcare journey and please if you ever want to rap about different products feel free to ask! (Skincare is now my biggest gimmee now thing)
Sastiel. Fem!Sam with really long pretty hair. She's tired of trying to touch it w/o her permission and is thinking about cutting it all off. Castiel always asking before playing with her hair and loving her with short or long hair.
Sam kept her hair long. She always had. Even when her father tried to say a pixie cut would be more practical, she pointed out that it would eventually grow and get in her eyes unless they cut it often… but long hair could be pulled into a ponytail or bun to stay out of the way. She won that argument.
But all her life, while she didn’t mind the compliments about her hair, people felt it was okay to touch it. She didn’t know why, but it seemed that most people didn’t consider long hair to be within someone’s personal space bubble.
“Oh, your hair is lovely!” And then someone would reach out to stroke it or play with it. Sam would always grit her teeth and bear it, afraid of seeming rude.
She thought it would get better as she got older. That, as an adult, people would see her as an equal and respect her space. But… for some reason, hair just wasn’t considered personal. It was almost public domain.
She was staring into a mirror in some random motel in Iowa, when she had the idea.
“I think I’m going to cut my hair…"
"What, like a trim?” Dean asked, lacing up his boots.
“No… just cut it off. All of it. Like Dad wanted.” Leaving the bathroom, she was met with Dean’s surprised look. “I’m sick of people touching it… touching me.”
Dean nodded, not able to totally understand since he’d never dealt with a situation like that, but trying his best to be supportive.
“Alright, but you’ve fought against cutting your hair… all your life. Just think about it for a week or so, first.”
Dean was right, of course. Sam would hate to chop it off and regret it. It’s a lifetime of hair growth (minus trims) that she would be getting rid of.
The next morning, Sam was brushing her hair when she felt a breeze behind her and looked up in the mirror to see Castiel. She squeaked with surprise.
“You okay?” Dean called, hearing her.
“I’m fine! Your angel just showed up.”
“Hey! Not my angel!”
“Yeah, yeah…” she muttered. She raised her eyebrows at Castiel. “Dean’s in the other room, if you want to go… what are you staring at?”
“I never noticed because it’s always… tied in some design, but you have exceptionally long hair.” The angel commented.
“Uh… yeah.” Sam cringed, knowing what always came after that, and closed her eyes.
Sam opened her eyes, surprised to see Castiel standing close with his hand raised in the air.
“I don’t wish to make you uncomfortable, but may I touch your hair?”
It was quite possibly the first time anyone had ever asked, and Sam nodded dumbly out of shock. Castiel’s touch was soft. He only clutched one lock and ran his fingers through it with a look of deep concentration.
“It’s quite soft.”
“Yeah… I mean, it feels softer right after I brush it… which I was just doing.” Sam tried not to sound like an idiot, but she was too surprised by the fact that the hand in her hair didn’t make her skin crawl. And the only difference was that she’d given her permission for it.
Two days later, Dean made a smartass comment about having a slumber party and braiding Sam’s hair. Sam laughed. Castiel looked at Sam with expectation in his eyes.
“May I try?” The angel asked.
“Cas, it was just a joke.”
Castiel’s head tilted slowly to the side.
“May I braid your hair, Sam?”
“Uh… yeah, okay.” Sam slid off of her seat and scooted to the floor in front of Castiel. Dean laughed and tossed them Sam’s brush.
When Castiel’s long fingers ran through her hair, grazing her scalp, Sam shivered.
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No… it, uh… felt nice.” Sam could feel her face turning pink as she blushed.
The fingers once again ran across her scalp, gathering hair into three sections. Sam thought she might melt. Having another person play with her hair had never before been so enjoyable or relaxing.
Dean snorted and Sam swore she heard him mutter, “Don’t cream your jeans, now. ” She ignored his immature remark.
One year later…
Sam was leaning back against her angel’s legs as he ran his hands through her hair, sometimes mock styling it but mostly just running fingers through the silky strands.
She was so glad she’d learned how wonderful it could feel to have her hair played with. The only thing that had been missing before was consent. It made all the difference.
“I almost chopped it all off…” She murmured.
“My hair.” Sam turned, putting one elbow on Castiel’s thigh as she looked up at him. “I almost cut it off… I couldn’t stand people touching it all the time.”
“Oh… I didn’t know.” Castiel pulled his hand back, a guilty shadow on his face.
“No! Not you. Everyone else. You’re the only person who ever actually asked. I like it when you play with my hair. It’s… I like it.” She shrugged. She turned back forward, leaning against Castiel once again and then sighed. “I would have looked horrible with short hair, anyway.”
“No. I think you’d be beautiful no matter the length of your hair. Your soul shines brightly through your eyes. I’m certain even humans can see it.”
“Cas…. what? I…” Sam spun around, lifting up to her knees and grabbed Castiel by his blue tie. “Really?”
Sam pulled on the tie, bringing the angel’s face downward, and she kissed him. It was stiff at first, but they both seemed to melt into one another and found where they fit.
When they pulled apart, both sets of eyes were wide with surprise.
“Shit, Cas… I’m sorry. I should have asked if-”
She never finished her sentence because she was pulled into Castiel’s lap and her mouth was once again occupied by another pair of lips.
“Seriously???” Dean’s voice came from the doorway. “Dammit, Sam, you should have just cut your hair.”
Season three Regina has to be my favorite, because she manages to be a bit of everything. In season three she’s the evil queen, she’s hopeful, she acts like a petulant child, she's the snarky mayor and she’s in top form all the way through. She’s learning that while redemption and “finding the light” so to speak is important, Regina also realizes that denying a part of yourself in exchange for trying to grow a different part isn’t the way to redemption, but instead it’s through the reconciliation of all the parts of you, good bad or whatever that produces well rounded, still flawed, better person.
Warnings: Self esteem issues, primarily with weight, bit ‘o fluff
Request: Could u write an imagine where [Y/n] is thick and uncomfortable in a dress but Natasha (girlfriend of reader) comforts her and says that the dress looks really hot on her and stuff like that? :)
A/n: This request was kind of difficult for me to write because I’m a bit on the chubby side myself, and I’ve been trying really hard to lose weight and stuff, but writing this made me feel good about it. I hope it makes you feel happy too c:
There’s a lot of gif hunts out there, mine being one of the many, that include gifs that exceed the tumblr upload limit. Which is always a pain in the ass when it comes to roleplaying, even I’ll admit that. So I decided to share some of my tips on using those particular gifs and sorting them from the those that are under the limit. Please like and/or reblog if this helps you in any way and let me know if you have any further questions!
tips included are;
A quick method for removing gifs from your folder that exceed the tumblr upload limit.
Using saved gifs that exceed the upload limit.
More tips will be added as often as possible so be sure to keep an eye out for that.
His words hit you like a brick wall, and you take a small
step backwards, voice caught in your throat. You stand there, opening and
closing your mouth like a fish, stuck in a staring contest with Cas. The
entire camp is silent, watching the scene unfold in front of them with slack
I finally pulled it off and finished writing this last part… a week later than expected. Sorry for those who were waiting for the next part on Monday morning, but life got in the way. You can throw things at me, I deserve it.
SO. This part is part is based on #3 First time. Hope you all like it! Once again it isn’t edited so ignore the mistakes (I’m to excited to finally give you this).
Monday arrived way too quickly in Emma’s opinion. She spent the weekend thinking about the situation she got herself in with Killian, shame and guilt overcame her each time. Shame that he saw her in such a vulnerable position, crying over her insecurities, wondering if anyone would ever like her and guilt on ruining their friendship.
She wanted to regret what happened despite those negative feelings that haunted her but found it hard to. Being with Killian that intimately was extremely pleasurable and thrilling. He was now her first kiss, and well, her first everything in what foreplay was concerned. She had never experienced anything like it and she didn’t know if she should be happy that it was him or not.
Emma had imagined that her first kiss would have been with a potential boyfriend or someone special (not that Killian wasn’t special but it wasn’t the same thing). She would be lying to herself if she didn’t admit that she was attracted to Killian, because let’s face it, the man was sex on legs. But, that was it. She wasn’t in love with him, she didn’t even like him that way, she liked Neal. Killian’s reputation also what made her cringe in all of this, the bad boy and the man whore reputation. She tried to tell herself that it didn’t mean anything for him, at most, he did that with her because she was sad and needed someone there.
The bus arrived on time and Emma felt awful and like such a coward when she decided to take an earlier bus, not wanting to cross path with him right away. She knew it was stupid, she would see him eventually in class, but at least there, she would be surrounded by her friends and an ocean of other students. Their friendship was kind of a secret, her friends didn’t know they talked and she assumed his didn’t know either.