should i grow my bangs out

anonymous asked:

Shinobu admiring Mika for bravely showing his heterochromia eyes even if he's uncomfortable about them. Shinobu himself is too self-conscious to reveal his left eye even though there's nothing abnormal about it. These thoughts of mine lead to the creation of this ship. Can I get some headcanons for these two cuties?

im glad you thought of this rare pair aaa i really love it!!! i wrote hcs for them some time ago, but im building on your idea to write some shinomika fluff 

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reasons I should be greatful

-i’m wrapped in blankets, warm and in bed
-i have a new book which is the best feeling
-i’m traveling so much this summer
-i’ve met multiple sweet people on this website, and so many of you are starting to mean a lot to me
-the bangs that i impulsively cut in october are finally starting to grow out
-the hamilton soundtrack, which has been on repeat for hours
-the pretty girl who continues to talk to me even though i am The Worst
-my friends, whom i love
-pasta!!!

Lighting was good in baby’s room so I took this picture to stare at and wonder if I should grow my bangs out again or cut them? Should I get contacts? Is it finally time for Invisalign? Why do i look like this

I’m getting my hair cut tomorrow and I feel like I’m going to cry lmao

Getting my hair cut has always been hella traumatic, especially as a trans girl. For the first 10 years of my life, I was forced into a close crop. After that I was allowed to start growing it out, and then I was told I “looked like a girl”. 

Aaaand I have no idea what I want, but supposedly this stylist is good and she said she gives good consultations so we’ll discuss things beforehand and she’ll lmk what she thinks we should do?

Basically, I wanna keep it long, lose minimal length, keep my bangs, and have something that will look decent as it grows out and can eventually be braided. Right now my hair is too layered for braiding. =\

soooo if anyone has suggestions, lmk lol

160329 Zhou Mi at The Show Fanaccount

Before Zhou Mi came out we were doing as usual, stood looking at the MC seats waiting for Mi to come from around the back when….Heechul pops out. We are really confused wondering if Heechul is a guest MC, the Girlfriend fan next to me is EXTRA confused and thought it was Taemin (lol) and then Heechul returns backstage and Zhou Mi and Yerin come out, we’re like “that was Heechul right?” And yeah he was really there, and he was done up (dressed nice and had make up on) so we’re totally confused.
 I ask Zhou Mi why did Heechul come and he laughs and says “He wanted to see Yerin" 

 When they went up for first MC stage Zhou Mi looked at me and started dancing to the first act (six bomb) so Yerin joined in lol. 

When the top 3 The Show Choice clip was playing Zhou Mi danced a bit to the Got7 clip then cutely ducked under the camera to check we saw and were laughing. 

 Zhou Mi always has his ankles showing because of his pants being short but being really I observant I’ve never seen a tattoo I know he has on the back of his ankle. So I asked him where his ankle tattoo went and he looked at me really bemused, then looked at his ankle and turned it towards me like "it’s there?” So I was like “I can’t see it?” So he kicked his leg up and held it up a bit so I could see the tattoo and laughed at me. I cracked up because I knew asking him he would do that hahahaha 

 When Got7 came out for interview Jackson immediately went to Zhou Mi to hug and chat, onstage Zhou Mi put his arm around Bambam and talked to him then after the interview Jackson hugged him and walked off with him. I told Zhou Mi he should get a haircut (it isn’t always styled cutely and is long now so he can’t wear the bangs across his forehead without getting hair in his eye) and Zhou Mi was like “No. I’m going to grow it long” and motioned from his head to his SHOULDERS so I pointed at my hair and was like “this long???” So Zhou Mi was like “yes down to my chest” and we laughed.
Someone who can PS well please edit Zhou Mi with really long hair without making his face girlier. Like….Jonghan aesthetic Zhou Mi lol 

 Another fan asked how big his feet are (like shoe size likely for a gift) and he just said “big” and then shot me a weird face lol. 

 Zhou Mi blatantly likes Mamamoo he bopped to their whole performance and sang along. I told Mi I miss hearing him sing and he smiled and told me to wait a little while. 

 During final stage Cao Lu kinda held the little show trophy and sighed a little and gave it back then while voting results came out she and fiestar kinda laughed at the scores and jumped up and down happily for Got7. 

 Before Hyosung’s interview Yerin was like “wow~ she’s so pretty” and we were told her she is pretty too and she made a face like “No!!?!?!" 

 The show staff are real cute. We have a new security oppa who is super laid back and comes over to us when the stage is a prerec and tells us we are allowed to look at Zhou Mi kk one of the camera guys stomped across the floor with like t-Rex arms so he could tickle another camera guy and at the end one camera guy took a selca with standing in the background so we photobombed him and he zoomed in on is and held it up so we could see hahahaha

The Signs as Fall Out Boy Songs.
  • Aries: Dead On Arrival
  • Taurus: Love, Sex, Death
  • Gemini: The Kids Aren't Alright
  • Cancer: Growing Up
  • Leo: Headfirst Slide Into Cooperstown On A Bad Bet
  • Virgo: What A Catch, Donnie
  • Libra: A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More "Touch Me"
  • Scorpio: Bang The Doldrums
  • Sagittarius: I Don't Care
  • Capricorn: I've Got A Dark Alley And A Bad Idea That Says You Should Shut Your Mouth (Summer Song)
  • Aquarius: Twin Skeletons (Hotel In NYC)
  • Pisces: Calm Before The Storm
Lie to Me

Imagine leaving Dean after a demon told you he cheated and getting a call years later begging you to visit him in the hospital.

Author’s Note: It’s done! A Dean x reader one-shot requested by kendrawinchester. Spent a lot of time on his one, I hope you guys like it! Warnings: blood, language, and alcoholism.

In case you didn’t read the teaser (skip to the next section if you have).

“Dean, relax. I got this.” I scrubbed at the red paint under my fingernails. “Besides, you’re going to love what I’ve done to the place…” I admired my work with pride. “There’s some candles too, very romantic.” I heard him laugh over the line and imagined what it looked like. All these years together and that little grin never grew old. 

“Did I ever tell you I’ve got a thing for a girl who can make a mean demon summoning ritual? Oh and your cherry pie isn’t bad either.” His voice was my favorite sound, although it had gotten a lot deeper than when we first met in high school. I carefully stepped over the wet paint lines of my devil’s trap. 

“Anyway, I’ve got some black eyes to exorcise. I’ll talk to you later baby… Yes I’ll be careful. Bye.” I hung up my cell and my hand instinctively reached for the ring that hung my neck. Dean had made it out of a ball joint nut form the impala that he ground down and made smooth. I always found myself touching it when I though of him. “Solii voco virtus daemonis ultimi eas.” I threw my match into the bowl of remains at my feet which immediately ignited. A loud gust blew the curtains and rumbling shook the floor. “Ante conspectum meum.” Suddenly a figure appeared before me. She couldn’t be any older than 25, long blond hair falling in ringlets around her shoulders. If her eyes didn’t flicker with hateful darkness she might have been beautiful. 

“You’ve got balls calling me to this place.” She hissed, snapping her teeth together like an animal. I casually strode to the kitchen and grabbed a cup of water. 

“You don’t like it? I think I could be an interior decorator in another life.” I flippantly gestured to the devils trap on the floor. The demon cackled loudly. 

“Oh you think that’s going to hold me for long? I have friends, lots of friends. They’re coming for you, and they’ll strip the skin from your bones while I watch.” I took a sip and shrugged. 

“And here I thought I was being hospitable. Care for a drink?” I splashed the holy water in her direction and she writhed in pain, smoke rising from her scalding skin. She lunged as far as the trap allowed her, stopping inches from my face. 

“I would kill you, but you know what’s worse than death? Suffering.” I shook my finger at her fury and poured some more water over my knife before rolling it in salt. “Oh you laugh now, but there’s something I can do to you from here that will hurt far more than any physical pain.” She cocked her head and waited till she knew I was listening. 

“I can tell you the truth.” My eyebrows raised in the slightest and she grinned like a Cheshire Cat. “Yes… Aren’t you curious?” I weighed the knife in my hand carefully before throwing it hard in her direction. My aim had been perfected over time and I heard a groan as its blade sank into her shoulder. Another beastly scream erupted from her red lips. “Oh easy there Y/N, don’t bang this body up too much. I picked it special for meeting with you.” The demon seemed satisfied that I didn’t follow her meaning. She reached into her shirt and produced a sickeningly familiar necklace. “Y/N, meet Dean’s lady friend, or should I say, other lady friend.” I couldn’t stop staring at the ring pendant until I was sure that it was exactly like mine. I tried to fight back the sick feeling growing in my stomach. “You’re a lying bitch.” My fists clenched in and out on their own. The demon laughed loudly, her onyx eyes wide with enjoyment. “Oh, don’t you wish I was. The real fun part was picking which one of his sluts to show you, but I always wanted to be a blonde.”

(Teaser Ends)

“You have 17 missed calls and 8 messages.” The monotone voice of my phone filled the silence in my motel room. “Message one: ‘Hey Y/N it’s Dean, where the hell have you been. I’ve looked everywhere. You’re scaring me… Please call me back when you get a chance.” I signed and cracked open another beer. It had been so long since I’d done anything but played these over and over. I could recited the recordings word for word. 

“Message two: ‘Baby, I’m so worried about you. I need to know you’re okay. If you’re pissed at me for something fine but don’t leave me without knowing if something happened…” I cringed at the anxiety in his words. I felt so guilty for leaving without an explanation, but there was no other option. 

“Hey, it’s Sam. Everyone’s been looking for you. I’m worried about Dean, he’s kinda losing it. If you’re getting these, please call us back.” I rolled my eyes, so typical of Sam to try and make everyone play nice. I shed my clothing and climbed into the shower. Even then, my shirt had a the faint smell of warm leather and gasoline. I could hear the phone continuing, despite the water hitting my ears. 

“I know you’re getting these… Some hunters said they saw you going through Arizona a few days ago. Just pick up the damn phone and call me.” There was an obvious change in his tone around message number 5. His anxiety went from sadness to anger. 

“Y/N, I can’t believe this. All these years together, and you just freaking leave? What did we even have if you can do this, without even a goodbye to me?” His words seemed to pierce my heart and I shut my eyes in physical pain. Even after I turned off the phone the voices played on in my head. 

“I’m done. I’m so done waiting for you. Crying about you.” Dean’s drunk voice was scratchy and slow. “I loved you… Hell maybe I still do…" I could hear a glass shatter before the recording ended abruptly. All night I laid in bed with his messages replaying in my mind. Maybe some messed up part of me wanted to torture myself with these voicemails, maybe it was a twisted form of penance. But as much as I hated myself for leaving him, there was no going back now.


He called constantly for weeks, so I started leaving my phone in my motel room. To be honest, it wasn’t all that hard to move on with my life. I kept myself busy as possible, never turning down a hunt. When you spend all day getting blood on your hands and come home to a bottle, it’s not difficult to suppress all kinds of grief. It was those few quiet moments when I wasn’t working a case that the gravity of my decision was clear. It was the mornings that I awoke with a stranger’s arms around my waist. It was the conversations I overheard in the bar about “two Winchester brothers.” It was 3 am, when the phone rang and I had to drink myself into a stupor to keep myself from answering. Months later, Dean left me his last message. “Y/N, I hate this, I hate… Don’t bother coming back, and I won’t bother calling you anymore.” Even after years had passed, I still begrudged picking up my cell, even though I knew it wasn’t him on the line.

*

When I couldn’t sleep I camped out in a bar on the edge of town, talking smack with a few hunters. They weren’t Winchesters so they weren’t family, hell they weren’t even really my friends. But misery loves company, and every hunter’s got some ghost that haunts them when they climb into their sheets at night. I could always count on a few people being there no matter the hour. I was retelling an in depth story about ganking an entire vampire nest when the bartender shouted my name and beckoned me near. 

“Hey, you spotting me a free drink?” I leaned on the counter and gave him a coy smile. 

The bartender looked unimpressed, “You wish. Pay off your tab from last night and I’ll consider. There’s a call for you.” He pushed a corded phone in my direction. I questioned how anyone would know were to find me but the bartender persisted. 

”Fine, I’ll take it. Hello?” I motioned to the rest of my table that I’d be back in a minute, I wasn’t in the mood to chat with anyone sober. 

“You listen to me, you high and mighty little brat.” My eyes grew wide at the sound of Bobby’s voice. “Get your butt to Denver, right now.” I sat with my mouth agape for a moment. “I’ve got your attention? Good. Listen to me, you’re like the daughter I never had.” His words were a bit softer and I grimaced at how long it had been since I visited him last. “But right now, you’re just being an idjit. You know how hard it’s been to get ahold of you?” I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. 

“Bobby, I’ve been really busy. I’ve been hunting with a pack in San Antonio.” I heard him clear his throat and knew he was stressed. “Is something wrong?” The bartender was eavesdropping so I shot him a glare and lowered my voice. Bobby was quiet for a moment before continuing. 

“Y/N, it’s Dean. He got in a real bad accident today. He’s all beat up, his insides are bleeding all over…” The shot glass I had been playing with dropped to the bar with a ‘clink.’ I didn’t care that every eye was on me or that the room started to spin. 

”He’s at the hospital in Denver right now and Sam’s here with a demon in him. I’m exorcising Sam, but Dean… They aren’t sure he’d gonna make it.”

*

Everything was a blur as I sped along the highway. While my muscle memory took over driving, my mind was completely scattered. I couldn’t stop thinking about all those years ago and how they seemed so close. Denver was hours away but it didn’t matter, I was too upset to be tired. I never stopped once, my eyes growing red and puffy from exhaustion and held back tears. I white knuckled the steering wheel in one hand and let the other play with the metal ring in my pocket. I never could bring myself to get rid of it, joking to others that it was a good luck charm. Nothing else mattered in that moment, not even what the demon said to me years ago.

“I’m here to see a patient, a Dean Smith.” The secretary chewed on her pen and typed something into the computer. After an excessively long pause she shook her head. 

“Oh ya. The real cute one. He’s in ICU… We only allow direct family to visit criticals.” She looked me up and down incredulously, no doubt unimpressed by my sleep deprived state. “You family?” I imagined reaching over the desk and grabbing the snarky woman by her plastic pearl necklace but I stopped myself. My teeth ground impatiently. “I am.” The words came before I could think of my excuse. Grasping for an idea, I dug around in my pocket and slipped cold metal on my finger. I then lifted the hand to show her. 

“I’m his fiancé.” She stared for a long while and I began to wonder if my facade was good enough. Just stealing a nurse’s uniform from the supply closet was sounding more and more appealing. Finally she shrugged and pointed me down the hall. 

“Room 320, past radiology and to the left. He just got out of surgery, so save if for the honeymoon.” Before she could finish her infuriatingly slow sentence, I was running down the corridor. Time seemed to go by in slow motion, like a nightmare where you can’t run fast enough. The room numbers flashed by. “312…315…319” I came to a stop in front of the correct door, my heart beating out of my chest. I laid my hand on the nob and stopped. What was I doing? What if I was the last person Dean wanted to see, the woman that broke his heart? A thousand conflicting emotions gripped my lungs. Was this the right thing to do? I was tempted to stop there and walk away. Maybe I’d do what I was best at, and run. The sight of that ring on my finger made my stomach churn. Dean’s words on my phone rang in my ears, “I loved you… And hell maybe I still do.” He was drunk when he had said that, but god knows there is more truth in whiskey soaked rambling than in the holy seat of a confessional. I pushed back my fear and straightened my back to stand tall. Sometimes the things we know we have to do are the most painful. I swung open the door, not realizing I had instinctively closed my eyes. When I opened them a jagged gasp escaped my lips. 


“Dean?” A battered body lay in bed before me and I felt paralyzed with fear. Machines and cords made him seem more marionette than man. A slow, steady beat from the heart monitor reminded me that what I stared at was indeed alive. “Can you hear me?” There was no response and I crept forward a little bit at a time. Dean’s eyes were closed and his chest rose and fell peacefully thanks to an oxygen mask over his mouth. I couldn’t fight the tears that came. How many times had I examined this sleeping face in the mornings? I knew every detail of how he would stir by my side but never be the first to wake. I loved watching him, wondering what dreams he was having. But this, this was no happy dream. “Dean…” I stopped a foot from his side and struggled to find the words to say. Cuts covered his exposed skin, a few deep bruises eclipsing his muscular arms. He seemed to be held together by the wide bandages and stitches on his chest. 

“This isn’t what’s supposed to happen.” A sob rocked my body and placed my hands on the bed’s railing for support. “Not like this, not before we could…” My fingers brushed his as I tried to keep myself standing. His hands weren’t warm like I remembered, they were hauntingly cold. “I wanted to try and talk to you after that night, I did. But I didn’t know how, and after all the things we’d gone thought together… I just couldn’t handle it all.” I boldly laid my hand atop his and squeezed. He was so limp and weak. My grip grew tighter, a silent plea for some kind of response. “But I’m here now. I’m here. And, I’m so sorry.” My crying grew more intense and I leaned down to cover my face, some of my tears falling on Dean’s motionless arm. 

“I was so prideful, hell we both are. I couldn’t bear the thought of having to forgive you… But I do now.” I laid my forehead on the back of his hand and prayed something in him would be awakened by the love I poured out. After there were no more tears left I kissed his palm gently, tasting the salt I had left there. I pulled the ring from my finger and stared at it one last time. At least if he woke, he would know I came. I laid it in his calloused hand and curled his large fingers around it with my own. 

“You always told me you would be the first to go, well tell the devil I’ll be there soon.” A half hearted smile tugged at my tired features and I turned to leave. Suddenly the monitor went flat, a loud buzz filling the air before I could get out the door “No…” My hands flew to my mouth and I couldn’t breathe. It was over… maybe it was better he didn’t have me as his final memory. 

“Hey…” A weak voice sent chills up my spine. “Tell him yourself.”

*

I turned in shock, staring at the smug grin of a half conscious Dean. The nurses that ran in were furious that he had ripped out his cords and they sent me to stand outside. A two way observation mirror let me watch as they scolded and reattached everything he had removed. Although he couldn’t see me through the glass he still stared in my direction knowingly, his green eyes piercing the divide between us.
Once the nurses left I took a deep breath and walked back into the room, my feet seeming to move on their own accord. I could hear my heart louder than any monitor. Dean gave me the saddest look and a bittersweet smile. Never have a felt more pain that under that desirous and wounded gaze. We stayed silent for a long time, our speechlessness it’s own form of conversation. Finally, after staring at me intently, Dean motioned me close. I complied and stuttered through an explanation. 

“Shh. Just stop.” He opened his hand in my direction. “It’s rude to give back a gift.” I scoffed at his untimely humor and felt my eyes getting moist again. “I hunted down that demon you exorcised the night before you… Left.” I shifted uncomfortably and averted my eyes. A shaky hand grabbed my arm and squeezed with surprising strength. “I know what she told you.” I sighed and swallowed back a whimper. Dean looked so compassionate, it nearly killed me with guilt. With all the exertion he could muster he pulled me closer. “I was so, so hurt that you believed her. How could you…” He stopped and closed his eyes, staying his emotion with a choppy breath. “I would never, ever cheat on you.” My brow furrowed and I looked to the ceiling, trying to hide the pain on my face. 

“But the necklace-” Dean’s grip was close to leaving a mark on my skin. He lifted the ring in his other hand and held it high in the air for me to see. 

“This, is the only one of these that exists. Whatever she showed you, it was just an illusion.” I bit my lip hard, the faint taste of blood tainting my mouth. “Don’t you trust me?” I couldn’t make eye contact so Dean pulled me down forcefully. “Look at me!” His voice cracked and I gazed down at a desperate man, his green eyes glistening. I couldn’t tell if the storm inside him was love or rage. “Trust me.” I knew in that moment that all those years of running were in vain. I knew that this man, this honest, strong, and seriously wounded man, was the love of my life. I fell to his chest in defeat. My sobs made it hard to breathe but somehow I forced out apologies with every shallow gasp. I heard him swallow back his own sorrow as he held me tight. We were both so broken, so horribly scarred by each other. Maybe this was the only was we could get past our pride, complete surrender.


Later that night I lay at Dean’s side in the small hospital bed. Despite the smell of medication and incessant beeping, I was more comfortable than I’d been in years. Dean’s arm never eased it’s grip around me, afraid that I might be lost to him again. “Y/N?” I nodded and peered up at his sleepy face. 

“I’m here.” He smiled and held the ring in front of me. 

“Do you remember when I made this?” I snuggled against him closer, careful to avoid his IVs and monitors. He continued, “It was after you got in that bad crash in the Impala and you were in the hospital like I am now.” He was still weak so he had to stop to take a few deep breaths, smiling reassuringly when I showed concern. “I’m fine, really. And you kept apologizing to me over and over because you were afraid I be upset that you wrecked baby?” I went back to that day in my mind and remembered how terrible I felt. I was sure then that Dean would never forgive me. Lips pressed against my forehead and I shuddered, emotion still tense between us. “Of course I was just happy that you were okay. I wanted to show you that I truly wasn’t angry, so I made you this.” The little ring’s dull surface might as well have been a priceless metal in my eyes. “You remember what I said when I gave it to you?” A nostalgic smile played on my lips. I spent a moment gathering the words so they would be perfect. 

“You told me, ‘You can wreck the impala a thousand times for all I care, as long as you’re my Baby.” I choked out the phrase and took Dean’s hand in my own. We kissed until there was no more sadness in the way we touched each other. It was almost like we never truly separated, somehow the love just picked up where we left it. 

Later Bobby and Sam found us curled up together, sleeping. They both smiled at the sight. 

“Thank God those two idjits worked it out finally.” Sam laughed and leaned against the door. 

“They were bound to work their way back to each other somehow.”

anonymous asked:

Could you post a picture of your hair journey from when you first started growing it? And how long did it take?

A PICTURE? Do you think this a GAME, son?

You don’t know the shit I’ve been through trying to find a hairstyle that actually works for me. I’m 22 years old and this is the first time I’ve had one that I really like and has had an overwhelmingly positive response. Like Squidward once said…

Man. That’s horrifying.

From a very young age, I’ve had really thick hair that has been difficult to manage. My life has been a series of terrible hair-related decisions that finally culminated in something I really like. But here’s where we begin…

(pictured here on the right.)

Yeah. That on the right is me as a fresh-faced 5-year-old… with blonde hair.

At some point, my loving mother figured that getting beaten up in my childhood would help build character, so she begun to use a product called Sun-In on my hair that would “brighten the natural highlights” so instead of looking like the tan and happy Puerto Rican child I was, I’d instead look like a white boy who just came back from vacation in Florida ALL THE TIME.

This practice would stop after I was 7 or 8, but the hair struggle was only beginning.

At this point I was an 11-year-old who thought the best option was to just try and comb my thick, unruly hair. Let’s not even discuss the fact that my parents thought the appropriate thing for my sixth grade graduation photos would be a fucking HAWAIIAN BOWLING SHIRT. Jesus christ, Mom and Dad, was this just a plan to keep my virginity in tact as long as possible. That’s a long con, and I respect it.

Here’s Matt’s first selfie!

My family took me to the same barber for my entire young life, a kind old man named Gomez who would do his very best to try and fix my stupid head, in between his cigarette breaks and uncomfortably loud salsa music. 

This was around the ripe young age of 14, when Gomez, starting to go blind in his old years, shaved my too short on the sides and left too much on top. He also nearly cut through the top of my ear, at which point I said “NOPE” never went back thought “oh, obviously the best thing I could do was try and let my big brother cut my hair!” Big mistake.

This photo was taken on June 12th, 2009. Just for clarification, that’s me on the right. I’m not the hot young woman and all around fantastic youtube personality OlgaKay, who’s also pictured here. This was about 2 weeks after my weight loss journey was about to begin, when I was around 450 pounds. Also, this was the weekend I decided, for whatever reason, to grow my hair out.

Now, people, this is where shit gets bad. So, I think I owe you a little bit of explanation.

Around age 16, I’d begun to hang out with the people who are still my closest friends and family to this day. Also around this point, I got super into hardcore music. Asking Alexandria, Attack Attack!, A Day To Remember and We Came as Romans were among my favorite bands, and what did all the guys in those bands do? Grow out their hair really long, flat-iron it and make it really scene and hard-to-see through.

Oh no… Oh NO.

OH, YES.

We refer to this as The Dark Ages. Mostly because I couldn’t see anything through my long, swooping bangs, and it was really fucking dark all the time. Pictured above is me at my high school graduation, where my family somehow let me out the house despite the fact that I was clearly wearing some sort of dead, skinned animal fur where my scalp should be.

I let my hair grow and styled it this way for about a year, leading to many awkward evenings where my kind-hearted mother would have to flat-iron my hair for me before I went out to hang out with nobody.

But you think that’s bad? You think THAT’S bad? you don’t know SHIT, son. 

Remember in the beginning of this, when I mentioned how thick and unruly my hair can be naturally? Well, in addition to not cutting my hair, I also didn’t have anyone layer it. I didn’t go to any barber or stylist for almost a year, meaning that my hair wasn’t cut in a way where it could fall naturally.

So, what do you think happened when I couldn’t straighten my hair? What would it look like when it was too hot, too humid, or when I was in a place where I didn’t have access to the flat iron? WELL FEAST YOUR FUCKING EYES.

LOOK AT IT. HOLY SHIT. MATT’S UNCUT, UNLAYERED, UNSTYLED HAIR IS OUT OF FUCKING CONTROL.

AND THAT’S THE PHOTO THAT I CHOSE TO PICK. GOD KNOWS HOW BAD THE PHOTOS I’VE BEEN TAGGED IN REALLY ARE. YOU WANNA SEE? I’LL FUCKING SHOW YOU.

AHH OH MAN IT BURNS.

This was the summer of 2010, right before I’d decide it was time to cut my hair and finally become a member of functioning society. So in August, I’d chop 90 percent of it off and become a functioning member of society again.

…Wanna see one more? Okay one more.

UGH. THE HAIR IS WET WITH SWEAT AND WATER. I LOOK LIKE A FAMILY OF SAD SPIDERS TOOK REFUGE ATOP MY HEAD.

Side note, this was taken on the way to Bamboozle, 2010. Rough times.

So in August, I chopped my hair off. I also got ill-fitting glasses, because I had no idea how the concept of “framing your face” worked. 

This was around the time I started to stretch my ears. I fucking hate these glasses. I look like I stole them from a pleasant secretary at a dentist’s office while she was distracted talking about her Kitten-of-the-month Calendars.

“Oh, wow. Yeah, October has a picture of a tabby cat poking his head out of a jacko'lantern hahah that’s so cute-” *YOINK*

Around this time, I started to discover hair products. This was also around the time I’d have to start wearing ties every day because of the private school I attended. So, after hearing that Mad Men a thing, I naturally thought that if I dressed nicely and gelled/combed my hair, of course I’d get as much sex and money as they did! Forget having a pleasant personality or attractive attitude, all I needed were ties!

My hair stayed like this for a while. 

And even though this period of my life bred a love of suits that I still have to this day, it was still a tough time. I was going through a lot of body image issues that I thought I could solve by wearing fancy clothes, and even though girls would occasionally compliment how perfect my hair looked, none of them wanted to “take a ride on my disco stick.”

This was also around the time that Lady Gaga was becoming a big thing.

Also, the fact that my hair had enough product in it to drown a small village didn’t help. Nothing says “hot stuff” like kissing a girl and having her touch your hair to feel the texture of uncooked ramen noodles.

After I got out of the suit phase, I rebelled hard in the other direction. Instead of coming my hair, I’d spike it! That’s what rebels do! We don’t use combs!

Matt’s first attempt at being punk (complete with hand-cut cloth gloves, because apparently I’m Judd Nelson in the fucking Breakfast Club.)

This hairstyle also got positive reviews, although I still had the Ramen problem. Except this time, the flavor of ramen was slightly different.

I genuinely really liked this hairstyle, but there’s only so many times that you can be confused for a porcupine that suddenly turned into a human through the use of magic. I went through some variations on this style for about a year.

There was the brief point where I tried to go full-on Grease Lightning, which was nice except that there was very little lightning and quite a lot of Grease. 

It was a good look to have, just in case I had to leave at any moment to audition for West Side Story.

After that I abandoned all hair products that would make my hair crunchy feel like a handful of stale Captain Crunch, and decided to mostly go with pomades that kept my hair feeling soft, but still held it up enough for me to make my head into soft serve.

And no, that’s not a Jimmy Neutron cosplay. That’s just how my hair was.

At this point, I was getting into a lot of new music, a lot of which I found through Tumblr. I started listening to a band called The 1975, and one day I stumbled upon a gif of the lead singer, Matt Healy.

Huh. His hair is kinda thick and wavy too.. And I also wanna dress in a lot of black and look cool in sunglasses.. Maybe I should look into his haircut.

Holy shit, I’m super into this. I really think I’d like to try it out. Obviously, to look anywhere like this guy I’d need to lose a shitload of weight and take on a much more “Axl Rose in 1988” vibe, but I think I might be able to pull off a haircut like this!

After much discussion with my then-girlfriend, I went in and told the kind haircut man to shave off the sides of my head!

LO AND BEHOLD, MOHAWK DIAZ IS BORN.

This is about a month after I got the mohawk done, when it was starting to grow in thick and long. I had to use gel to keep it in place. At this point, I made a decision. If I was going to grow my hair out and do this weird long-mohawk possible man-bun thing, I was going to do it right. No terrible afro, no gel, no shitty flat iron, nothing. I was going to go natural with a little bit of pomade, and I was going to maintain the fuck out of it.

So, that’s what I’m doing.

Every two weeks, I go and get the sides of my head buzzed. I also have him clean up where the buzz stops and the long hair starts.

And every other week, I have him thin out the hair on top so it doesn’t get too thick and unmanageable. 

I’ve also begun to combine the punk stuff I really like with the well-dressed suit stuff in order to really define my style better.

This is more or less where my hair is now. I’m getting through that awkward phase where it’s too long to stand perfectly, but too short to push back the way I want to.

And here’s where we end up. It’s been a long and winding road, but I finally have a hairstyle I like.

Anon asked: Hi! Can you please write about Dean and Cas getting into a fight and deciding to break up and angst all over just so that 30 secs later they’re like D: wait no and then fluff? Please and thank you!
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Castiel flung the apartment door open and stormed inside. Dean followed quickly behind him and slammed the door shut.

“What the hell is your problem,” He demanded. Castiel spun around, seething.

“You know what my problem is!” He snapped. “I didn’t even want to go out tonight, but you made me, then you spent the whole time flirting with that girl!”

“I did not!”

“Oh, please. Your head was buried so deep in her cleavage I’m surprised you didn’t suffocate.”

Castiel walked into their bedroom and kicked his shoes off.

“You do it every time we go out,” He ranted. “If its not a sorority girl, its a waitress, or a bartender. You don’t even try to tamp it down right in front of me.”

“That’s not true,” Dean said, tugging his jacket off. “And you’re one to talk. Whenever we’re at an event for your office you’re always drooling all over Crowley.”

“He’s my boss, Dean. I’m listening to make sure I don’t miss an opportunity for advancement. And at least when I’m talking to him, Crowley has the decenty to pay attention to what I’m saying and not how short Amelia Novak’s skirt is.”

“Well, if Crowley’s so fucking great, maybe you should date him!”

“Maybe I should! At least then I wouldn’t feel the need to grow breasts to get my boyfriend to pay attention to me.”

Dean scowled and snatched his jacket back up. He stormed out the door and slammed it closed behind him. Castiel picked up one of his shoes and threw it at the wood, relishing in the loud bang it made.

After a moment, then anger subsided and he realized what just happened.

“No,” He whispered. He dug his phone out of his pocket and called Dean. “Pick up, pick up.”

Dean’s phone rang from the dresser. Castiel threw his phone across the room and dropped his head into his hands, tears running down his cheeks. Why had he said any of that? He didn’t even like Crowley that much. He was just so angry at Dean for looking at that woman all night.

“Cas.” He looked up when Dean said his name. The other man was standing in the door way, looking just as wrecked as Castiel felt. “I’m sorry.”

Castiel got up and ran into his arms. Dean held him tightly to his chest, whispering apologies over and over into his hair.

“I’m sorry I said that,” Castiel said. “I just get so upset when I see you flirting with other people. You’re so handsome and funny and perfect and everyone knows that you’re the one that settled–”

“Hey,” Dean said, leaning back and looking into Castiel’s eyes, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. “That’s not true. You’re so smart and I can never keep up with your work Stokes. I feel like you’re going to get tired of having to explain things to me one of these days and find someone smarter.”

“I don’t want anyone else,” Castiel said, kissing Dean. “I love you too much to ever even dream of anyone else.”

“I love you, too,” Dean said. He put his hands on the back on Castiel’s thighs and lifted him up. Castiel wrapped his legs around his waist and kissed him again. Dean carried him back to their bedroom. He sat on the bed with Castiel on his lap and broke the kiss.

“I hate fighting with you,” He whispered.

“Me, too,” Castiel said. “I’m sorry I get so crazy sometimes.”

“That’s okay, baby,” Dean said. “I shouldn’t flirt with anyone else, especially not when I’m with you.”

Castiel ran his fingers through Dean’s hair and gave him a small smile.

“I guess we should try to be a little better, huh?”

“I guess. That’s why I got you this.”

Dean reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a silver band.

“Dean,” Castiel whispered.

“I don’t want to flirt with other people anymore,” Dean said. “I don’t want to worry some smart schmuck is gonna come along and sweep you off your feet. I want to be your husband, Cas.”

“Me, too,” Castiel whispered. Dean smiled.

“Can I take that as a yes?”

“Yes! Yes,” Castiel said through his tears. Dean laughed and slipped the ring onto his finger. Castiel kissed him again. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.”

They spent the rest of the night making up and celebrating their future together.

The company’s wish was for my music to appeal to more people. It was hard for me to accept at first. But I realized that, if I continued to be stubborn, the album (Rise) would never come out. And I thought… My obstinacy, my inclinations are only going to grow stronger with time. The things I don’t want to do, I’m going to want to do even less and less. And if that’s the case, maybe I should try to accept things when I can still be a little open-minded. And I changed the way I approached making this album. I think, as I made each song, I lent an ear to what a lot of people had to say.
—  Taeyang (GQ Magazine Interview [July])

busan-ai  asked:

Scuba diver Jungkook and mermaid Jimin???? ITS SO CLICHE BUT I LOVE IT IM TRASH AAAAAAH

Curiosity

Jimin watches from a distance. The humans are always the same. They come bumbling into his home with bulky equipment and no manners. The living creatures that make up his domain or inspected, stolen, and thrown away.

This one though, this one is different. Because he’s pretty, Taehyung’s teasing voice rings in his ears. Jimin shakes his head, displacing the water around him. His gleaming red tail moves gracefully through the water, pushing Jimin even farther behind the sunken ship he was currently hiding behind.The brunette human in front of him glances up through gigantic goggles. Jimin blows out a breath full of bubbles when the boy finally looks away. 

The boy moves on to a reef further down the sea, and Jimin turns away, ignoring the feeling of disappointment in his chest. Jimin doesn’t immediately return home, opting to play with the sea turtles for a while. When he does tire, he heads home to find the merpeople scattering about with hushed, frantic voices. A hand grabs Jimin’s shoulder and he turns quickly, only to find a concerned looking Taehyung.

“Jimin, come quick! It’s…it’s your human!” Taehyung practically shouts in his face, tearing away to the rock clearing outside of their village. 

“My what?” Jimin groans, for Taehyung is too far away to answer. He lets out another reluctant groan, but follows after Taehyung without another word. They swim out to the small sandbar, covered by rocks in the form of a half-dome, almost like a cave. Merfolk surround the sandbar underneath the waves, chattering excitedly. Taehyung swims through them all, making a path for Jimin as well. The whispers halt as Jimin and Taehyung breach the surface of the water. 

Jimin first notices the boy’s gear, mostly scattered about in the dark sand. The mask (goggles, Taehyunug reminds him) is close enough for him to reach, so he picks them up. When he turns them over, he finds a name etched into the back.

“Je-Jeon…Jeongguk?” Jimin speaks quietly, lips and tongue rolling around the syllables in his mouth. 

“Holy shit.” The human’s voice is loud compared the the merfolks’. Taehyung visibly jumps and dives back into the water. Jimin drops the goggles but stays frozen where he lays on the beach. He watches the human, no, Jeongguk, step fully out from the other side of the rocks. He’s looking at Jimin with unusually large eyes that make him uncomfortable.

“Did I hit my head or something?” Jeongguk asks, probably to himself. Jimin can’t help it. He giggles. 

“Not that I know of,” he speaks softly. Jeongguk slowly crawls closer, making sure not to startle Jimin as he had Taehyung. 

“So, you’re real?” He kneels in front of Jimin. Jimin scoffs, running a hand through his bright red hair.

“I’d sure hope so,” Jimin mutters. Jeongguk stretches out a hand, hesitating when Jimin flinches. His eyes flick back up to meet Jimin’s.

“Um…can I? I won’t hurt you, I promise,” Jeongguk tones down his voice, trying to speak as softly as Jimin. Jimin thinks on the question for a moment. On one hand, it probably wasn’t the best idea, as he didn’t even know the boy, let alone how the boy got on the supposedly secluded island. On the other hand, Jeongguk was really pretty, and Jimin was kind of becoming addicted to the impressed look on his face. Jimin nods slowly. Jeongguk flashes him a smile that would have had him falling to his knees, if he, you know, had them. 

The first touch of Jeongguk’s fingers has him shivering, but Jimin quickly grows used to the calloused fingers on his scales. Jeongguk runs his hand down the length of Jimin’s tail and back. Jimin thinks he should mention that’s actually pretty intimate for merfolk, but he decides against it.

“Whoa!” Jeongguk exclaims softly. Jimin raises an eyebrow and moves his tail out of Jeongguk’s reach.

“What?”

“It’s smooth!” Jimin refuses to smile, he refuses. Jeongguk looks so fascinated.  

“As opposed to?” Jimin prompts.

“I don’t know, slimy?” Jeongguk shrugs. Jimin gasps and folds his arms over his chest.

“You take that back!” Jeongguk giggles and holds his hands up in apology.

“What’s your name?” Jimin looks up from under his bangs at Jeongguk smiling above him.

“Jimin. My name is Jimin.” Jeongguk’s smile grows wider as he settles down on the sand beside Jimin.

“Hello Jimin. I’m Jeongguk.”

“So you are.”


Send me a “cliche” trope or AU and I’ll write a short Jikook drabble based off of it ^.^  

April ID!

Ready to work hard this month! What is sunlight? All I need is the light from my computer monitor. ;) And I’m really excited for my modeling class this term (which started this month so its related yeah)! Excited to learn things!
Also I’m growing my bangs out and they’re at that weird, awkward, kinda gross looking length right now hooray.

going short is apparently a long process

I’ve been meaning to submit forever and now i am finally getting around to it!

ive always been chubs and was raised to think that only skinny girls (and queer folks) could pull off short hair. a few months ago i decided i was done with my damaged hair and wanted a fresh start (to inevitably destroy)

my mom was a cosmetologist when i was younger before switching careers and usually cuts my hair. when i came to her with the idea of chopping it all off, she told me that i probably wouldn’t pull it off and reminded me of that one time my hair was short and i wore a hood 24/7/365 until it grew out.

but i told her if she didn’t do it, i’d do it myself and she would just have to fix it later. so she reluctantly agreed to an asymmetrical short cut:

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it was a step in the right direction but looked like i got a cool haircut 3 months ago and hadn’t trimmed it since and only looked good if i spent a bunch of time styling it which was not at all the point

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my mom agreed and eventually gave it a trim that i thought looked TERRIBLE. the long part was too short yet not long enough and i was just pinning it back every day. then i trimmed it even shorter myself, leaving one long piece near my ear but chopping the rest and it looked much better!

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as that cut started to grow out and my ends got frizzy i decided that i missed having bangs and that i should go really audrey hepburn with it. so i did! and im all about it.

the point was to grow out my hair but it just keeps getting shorter!

tl;dr you can pull off whatever the fuck you want. if you have a haircut in your heart, you can have it on your head, y'all.

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With my new straight across bangs my friend pointed out that I basically became Kim from Scott Pilgrim. Works, I’m 23 and used to be in drumline. Once it grows out a bit more though, I’ll be pulling a Ramona :)