shrink mouth

I’m posting this story because I don’t want you all to make the mistakes that I’ve made. I apologize ahead of time for getting oddly personal.

I have never been good with words. That may seem strange because on Tumblr I don’t shut up, but in person, and especially when emotional, I have a hard time getting words out of my mouth. My shrink said that’s a common symptom of people who’ve dealt with trauma. I don’t know. What I do know is that when I left my boyfriend’s car after an argument five months ago, I did not know how to ask for help. I messaged a group chat of best friends who have been there for me before. I could manage to type out that I left my boyfriend’s car, that I’m emotional and can’t convey it over text, and that need to be picked up.

Long-story-short, one friend answered, and said she couldn’t pick me up because she was going to a club with another friend. Now, there are a lot of details here that I’m leaving out, and the fact that I probably wasn’t making any sense beyond the fact that I was sad and needed someone probably has to do with it. Of course I got mad at her for not taking the time to help me. She said something along the lines of, why should she cancel plans for someone who “couldn’t even bother to tell me what was wrong”.

I know, poor me, blah blah, how hurt and victimized I was. Why am I telling you this? Because even though my best friends at the time wouldn’t help me, people DID help me. I asked one person I had only talked to in meetings to pick me up. She dropped what she was doing and got me. She didn’t ask me to explain, or require me to be peppy around her or talk to her about it; she took me home because I asked. I had another friend who was not close to me at the time come over to talk to me, and all I had to tell her was that I had had a horrible night. I had friends who couldn’t meet me offer to take me to lunch, and talk to me over text or the phone. Although it was a hard beginning of the end for me and my “best friends” at the time (which only got worse later on), it was a hard lesson that I needed to learn.

This isn’t me looking at the situation with rose-colored glasses. This is what actually happened. For every one person who wouldn’t help me, four people took the time to reach out. All they required of me was that I asked them for help.

So I ask you, followers, because I know many that many of you are good and kind people, to take in the lessons that I learned too late:

A true friend will never ask you to prove that you are worth their time;

And,

You need to believe that you are worth peoples’ time. You are. You are worth peoples’ time for just being you, for being human and flawed, for needing help, for being alive. Please believe that you are worth peoples’ time, and you will find others who are worth your time, too.

anonymous asked:

Hello this will sound stupid probably but how do you do head/face construction outlines or how you think the best way to do it is

ahhh hmm.. I will try my best to give you some info at least on how i do it/good things ive seen? I don’t have a lot of rules about my faces and I tend to just kind of Go At It a lot of the time? But I can give you some things to think about or the techniques I like to use. There are lots of ways to construct heads and stylize faces. 

I think the most important things I keep in mind, like with everything else, is that the head is a solid object with volume, and that it has its own muscles and fat and stuff. 

in terms of anatomy, with the way i stylize stuff, i like to show a few key things


1) The head is not separate from the neck, and it is not just sitting on the next like a lollipop. The neck interacts with the head. Most people also have at least a little bit of neck/chin fat, if not just loose skin there so that you can move your head. that area is in general soft. 

2) the eyes are In the head, not just stickers on the head or spheres stuck to the head. (of course, this is not the only way to stylize, this is just what I like to show) the eyes are set into the cheek.

3) the mouth area makes no sense like thats not how that works but don’t worry about it. 

the most basic way i construct a head is i start with like, a sphere, which im sure you’ve seen before: 

the lines of the symmetry for me are pretty rough. i don’t follow them very specifically. I use them more for like “the head is facing this direction on this axis and this direction on this other axis” 

vertical line is how far left or right its rotated, and the horizontal is how far up or down. I know the horizontal line is supposed to also be roughly where the eyes go, but I don’t really follow that too carefully. I mean it helps figure out where the eyes are going to be, but if it ends up not feeling right, be free to adjust. It’s more for keeping the head volumetric.

then i have a second oval (of varying shapes for different faces) for the lower half of the face. the top of the cheek starts roughly at the horizontal line of symmetry. I tend to think of this also as a volume. 

This maps out the entire lower half of the head for me, so im sort of like, drawing all the way around underneath the head if that makes sense? it’s very helpful for drawing heads in weird perspectives. For example it helps with over the head perspective a lot because it sort of puts the jaw underneath the cheek bones, underneath the forehead, etc. 

then i construct the face over that, using the nose to indicate direction by keeping it right on the vertical axis or floating over the vertical axis.


In doing facial expressions, I think something really important to keep in mind is the retention of mass. Like, even when you’re stretching the face really far, don’t add mass. (at least, for the style that i’m working with. this isn’t applicable to all styles) This combined with remembering what parts of the face are hard and what parts are soft will make characters seem, more, Solid. 

so like: 

the jaw doesn’t grow or shrink with the mouth opening, there’s still the same amount of chin. the jaw opens to open the mouth, the upper teeth are not on a hinge so the lower jaw is the only thing that moves.

I totally do not always follow this, though. 

like, the chin here is probably a little bit “shrunk” to accommodate the mouth. However, other thing to think about that I’m trying to show with this, is that when one part of the face moves, so does the rest of it. Even if the facial anatomy isn’t realistic, it still all interacts. Like, the mouth opening up that wide smushes up the cheek muscles into the eye. (even though the mouth is just kind of drawn as a hole in the face) 

(more examples of this)

even if the face is kind of “rubbery” here, though, the overall mass is still kept consistent. like its stretched in the second on, but it hasn’t “grown” 

flesh is pulled over an imaginary skeleton underneath, and there is still “depth” shown by the angle of the teeth. there is also thought about how the eyes are sitting in their sockets, even though those sockets are being “stretched” a little bit. 

I hope this isn’t a completely incoherent mess and that its at least somewhat useful information? 

4-7-8

(I promised myself I wouldn’t write any sanders sides fics until we got anxiety’s name and then I go and write a fic taking place before we get his name smh)

(So! I wrote a fic! And I’m actually posting it! I’m actually pretty proud of this. Enjoy!)

(and please leave a review if you like it I thrive on attention and crave validation lol)

-Analogical. Angst, but it ends with fluff. If you need any triggers tagged, let me know!

Summary: Sometimes, when it all becomes too much, all Anxiety needs is to breathe. Luckily, Logan is there to make sure he can.

It was too much.

Too much. Too much. Too much.

The room was spinning out of control.

His palms stung where his fingernails dug into them, his hands balling into tight fists; he felt something wet and dimly realized that it was blood, but he didn’t think to care, couldn’t think to care. He retreated further, further into himself, further into the veil of darkness that surrounded him, squeezed him like a python would its prey, his arms wrapping around his head, his knees digging into his forehead, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, terrible fireworks of bright color exploding inside his eyelids.

His lungs heaved for air, and yet rejected it all the same, and he couldn’t breathe, he was drowning, and he only went deeper, curling up tighter and tighter in the corner of the dark, dark room. It was too much. It was too much, and he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Anxiety?”

No. No. No no no no no no no he can’t deal with this right now please no.

Keep reading

Bitter, Then Sweet

Sometimes there doesn’t need to be a reason to spoil people you love. Sometimes it’s more fun to surprise them just because. This morning you woke up with just such a desire. That’s why you’re in the kitchen early on a Sunday, already returned from a quick grocery run.

Ingredients and trays and molds and bowls neatly line the counter. Your book of recipes is open and securely propped on the windowsill in between cheery sprouts in terracotta pots, the beginnings of your indoor herb garden you started with Kyungsoo. You know the recipe and method of chocolate making by heart, but you always double check the page with its small and sometimes not so small notes on the process. Chocolate making is something you are well known for among your friends, gifting them for birthdays or special events. Or, in cases like these, not so special, but they’re always made with the same amount of love and care. That’s something you can never give Kyungsoo and his friends enough of.

Even though EXO is between albums, the boys are still working their tails off for the next one on top of individual commitments. They do enjoy most of their packed agendas, but if the fatigue in Kyungsoo’s smile when he returns home to you and how often he passes out the instant his butt hits the couch is any hint, they need a pick-me-up. What better way to do that than with a surprise sugar rush.

As you check the temperature of the bowl of melting chocolate on the stove-top, you hear your door swing open and hit the wall. Without looking away from the chocolate, you call, “Kyungsoo?”

Your boyfriend’s chuckle is rich as the sweet you’re stirring. “Were you expecting someone else?” He steps into the kitchen with a paper bag and two coffee cups in hand.

Looking at him sends a little thrill through your spine. With the glamour of makeup absent from his face, Kyungsoo almost looks like an ordinary man who may have an unhealthy obsession with black clothes. Almost. Because, makeup or no, he’s still the most stunningly handsome man ever to grace your eyes. Plus, no makeup means no more public schedule for the day. That in turns means he could possibly be yours for the rest of the day.

“No schedule?” you ask to be sure. You mentally cross your fingers.

Kyungsoo grins. “None. I persuaded Jongin to switch places with me for the photoshoot so I finished first. I already fulfilled my vocal practice hours as well so,” he lifts the bag, “I got us breakfast.”

“My perfect man,” you giggle, eyeing the bag curiously.

“I honestly thought you’d still be asleep,” he says. He looks around the kitchen, noting the layout. “You’ve been industrious. Whose birthday is it?”

“No one’s. I just thought you and the other guys could use a treat with how hard you’ve been working.” Lifting the bowl, you carefully settle it in a bowl of water to cool a little before you use it. “Not that you don’t always work hard, but you seem to need a little extra something.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes widen before they shrink as his mouth spreads in a wide grin. He presses a light kiss against your cheek as he sets your coffee beside you. “That’s very sweet of you, love.”

You turn your head, shamelessly begging for a real kiss with your eyes. Kyungsoo readily obliges within a heartbeat. He tastes like smooth coffee and mint chap-stick. His hand drifts down to your back. The playfulness of his fingers twisting in your apron strings contrasts the serenity of his kiss. Smooth and savoring, your lips sink into each others like taking a long draught of water.

Kyungsoo pulls away, his hand sliding around your waist. He looks at you with affection. “You look very cute in an apron.”

His compliments are always straightforward, but they still make you glow. “You’ve said that before,” you reply with a coy smile.

“Because it’s true. Here, try this.” He drags the paper bag he brought closer with one hand so his other doesn’t have to release you. Pulling out a rotund, golden pastry with flaky layers, he holds it up to your mouth, careful to angle it so no crumbs get in the chocolate.

You bite down, buttery pastry mixing with a bittersweet filling. You moan and lick your lips. “Pain au chocolat. God, that’s good.”

“It’s from the bakery that opened two blocks down. They had a display of these in the window and it made me think of you. Though if I’d known you were making chocolate, I would have gotten some lemon mulberry scones they had.”

“Are you trying to say I sample my work too much?” You glare at him before bursting into laughter when he snorts. “Okay, maybe I do, but my esophagus could be coated in chocolate and I could still eat more.”

Kyungsoo laughs and lets you go to pull over a stool to sit on. He takes his own pain au chocolat out of the bag and takes a generous mouthful. You watch him close his eyes in bliss and let everything melt together on his tongue. “We should make these one weekend.”

“I’ll probably have some chocolate left over if you want to try tonight or in the morning so you can take some back with you.”

“As if I could bring anything back without the wolves sniffing it out,” he snorts. “Did you know Sehun ate the rest of the cookies we made last week? I had almost dozen left when I stuck them on top of the fridge.”

You laugh. “You can’t really blame the puppy when you put it right on eye level for tall people. I’m kind of surprised Jongin or Chanyeol didn’t snack on them first.”

“They learned to ask,” he replies, a satisfied, impish look in his eyes. You don’t ask.

“Now, love, you can’t hog me and my sweets all to yourself.” You kiss his temple as you lean across the counter for the candy thermometer. “We can make two batches: one for us and one for them.”

He hums noncommittally and goes back to nibbling his breakfast. You can tell he’s still not quite happy about sharing food you made for him, but everyone has their moments of selfishness. Besides, he makes plenty of food for them; it’s understandable to want them to respect what’s his. Taking another quick bite of your pastry, you remove the chocolate from the water

“So who’s getting what?” Kyungsoo asks when you reach for one of the smaller bowls of fillings and pick up a knife.

“Coffee beans for Minseok, strawberry for Chanyeol, caramel for Jongdae, toffee for Jongin, peanut butter for Baekhyun, almonds for Junmyeon, coconut for Sehun, and… cherry for Yixing.” You plop a cherry in half of the hollow chocolate, cover it with another, and seal the chocolate shut with a careful swipe of melted chocolate around the seam.

“What about me?”

You glance over at him, squinting your eyes in observation. “I’m still debating on yours. I’m thinking maybe dark chocolate with milk or white chocolate center.” You turn back to your work. “A dozen each should be enough, don’t you think? I don’t want you all getting in trouble with your managers for eating too many sweets.”

“I suppose.”

You eye him out of the corner of your sight, confused by his suddenly flat tone. Kyungsoo is still chewing away with no sign of distress on his face except a far away look in his eyes. Shrugging, you continue filling and sealing the chocolates. Spaces of time without words being exchanged certainly isn’t an abnormal thing, especially when either of you gets lost in thought.

Kyungsoo’s probably thinking of the new script he mentioned receiving the day before. He thinks about work too much sometimes, but his dedication is something you love about him. So, you leave him in peace. When you notice Kyungsoo sneaking a few caramels from the bowl, you smile, reassured everything is alright. If his appetite was off, then you’d know there was trouble ahead.


You wait to deliver the treats until their schedules line up so they’re all at the dance studio together. Strangely, it took you a few days to pry the day and time out of Kyungsoo. You had almost texted Jongin instead when your boyfriend apparently forgot how to answer his phone. He had mentioned their schedule was jam packed, but he was usually very good about replying to you when you didn’t see each other for days. The abnormality has you a bit worried, but you don’t want to bother him so you hold in questioning him about his turn for the taciturn until you can see him face to face.

Yixing notices you standing quietly outside the door with cloth bag in hand. He smiles and beckons you in. The others cheer happily at the sight of you, at least partly because they know you always come bearing gifts of some kind of food. Kyungsoo hangs towards the back of the group that surrounds you, only giving you a small smile that doesn’t quite fill his gaze. His eyes sweep back and forth among his friends with a mix of emotions you don’t recognize.

“What’d you bring us?” Baekhyun asks.

“You’re supposed to say ‘hello’ when someone comes to see you,” Junmyeon reminds him lightly, rolling his eyes.

You smile and wave your hand. “It’s alright, Junmyeon.”

“Chocolate!” Jongdae screams, having glimpsed the boxes with their names tidily labeled. “She made us her chocolates!”

Excited thanks roll off their tongues as you pass out the treats. A content quiet of chewing and murmured comparisons replaces it as the men all dig in. When you come to the bottom of the bag, you look for Kyungsoo. He’s sitting on the couch to the side, arms folded and eyes fixed on the floor.

You cross over to him, pull out the last box, and drop the bag by his feet. “Saved the best for last,” you say quietly, and slide it onto his legs.

His hands automatically cup the sides as it takes up most of his lap. “This- this is mine?” Kyungsoo glances at the others’ boxes, noting they’re only half the size of his.

“It does have your name on it,” you point out. You sit down beside him and lift the box’s top.

Inside sits your masterpiece. A large heart with white chocolate drizzle crisscrossing its surface. Kyungsoo keeps staring down at it, not saying a word.

“Soo?” You giggle nervously. “You know you’re supposed to eat it? Not just look at it.” When he remains motionless, you break off the heart’s tip and hold it to his lips for him.

He opens his mouth just enough for you to slip it in. You watch closely as he chews slowly. A smile blooms on his face when Kyungsoo finally swallows. “It’s really good. What’s the filling?” He carefully breaks off another piece to eat.

“My take on canoli filling. Kyungsoo,” you lower your voice, “are you okay?”

He waits until he finishes the chocolate to answer. “Yes. I’m sorry. I know I’ve been weird lately.” He sighs and gives a little wry laugh, looking away from you. “I- I was just a bit jealous.”

“You? Jealous of what?”

“Well, that you were making treats for all them instead of just for me.” Kyungsoo swings his eyes back to you with a sheepish expression. “It’s stupid, but sometimes I want to be the only one you spoil.”

You can’t help laughing in relief. Who would have thought you could make Do Kyungsoo jealous. At least it was an easy fix. You tap his nose with your finger. “Kyungsoo, if you want more attention, just ask for it. I will make you as many personal chocolates or whatever else as your big heart desires. Consider me your personal chef.”

“You are so much more than that. So much.” He presses a quick kiss on your cheek. “Thank you for the heart. I love it.”

“And I love you.” You return his peck with one of your own. “You’re the only one who gets to here me say that.”

“God, get a room!” Sehun’s teasing call and Jongin’s resulting cackle make you both jump and realize everyone is looking at you with silly grins. Matching blushes paint your cheeks as they laugh.

Chanyeol starts clapping his hands and chanting, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

“Not in front of you guys,” Kyungsoo retorts, throwing a pretend punch Chanyeol’s way. The giant flinches even though there’s no way Kyungsoo’s fist could reach him.

“I can always kiss her if you don’t want to,” Jongdae teases.

“No way, man. I called dibs ages ago if the chance came up,” Baekhyun scoffs, sliding onto the couch beside you. He closes his eyes and puckers his lips, leaning closer. Instead of your lips, Baekhyun finds part of Kyungsoo’s chocolate shoved in his mouth.

Joining in with the others’ laughter as Baekhyun splutters turn into appreciative lip smacking, you move closer to Kyungsoo. “So you know, I made you another and left it at home in case they somehow eat all of this one,” you whisper in his ear.

Kyungsoo’s lips twitch in a smile that he schools to calm in an instant. “Bless you. You know them too well.”

You nudge him with your shoulder. “And you. You’re a big push over when it comes to th-” Mouth suddenly full of chocolate, you give Kyungsoo an accusatory look.

“Let me live in the ignorance that I’m the only one that knows that.”

Dean tongued the canker swelling along the inside of his cheek. The alcohol had thinned away the wet skin inside his mouth over the hours, leaving it raw, red and inflamed. That happened sometimes, when he’d lave himself in liquor. It thinned him, too, leaving him less than the man with a brand in his arm, his blood pregnant with the need to execute the world. Less. To be disconnected from the nexus of the tired and lonely. From the pull of hate and rage. And he took another sip, grimacing against the way the alcohol burned inside his mouth. Shrinking smaller as he was trimmed away by heady neurons slow to tell him how he should feel. It left him empty. But hollow was better than the building scream inside his head.

Dean scratched at the mark on his arm as if it were a mosquito bite, trying to infect him from the source. He forced himself to pull away and sighed, looking at Cas’s slumped form sitting on the stool next to him at the bar.

The hunter gave a small smile towards the angel as he watched Cas down another drink, some of it sloshing on the edges of his trench coat and the black lapels of his suit. Cas shrugged out of the tan and black, letting them fall to the floor until he was left clumsily rolling up his sleeves on his white button up shirt.

“Damn, Cas,” said Dean, letting a hand find its way to the top of Cas’s shoulder, resting it heavily inside the concave dip of it. “We’re drunk.”

One side of Cas’s mouth turned up and he huffed in amusement. The angel downed another shot, slamming the empty glass on the counter then slapped his hands on the sides of it, rumbling “thirty,” in a deep, albeit slurred declaration.

The small blonde bartender on the other side of the counter stopped, slack-jawed as she stared down at Cas’s pile of empty shot glasses.

“What?” Cas snapped gruffly, and she scurried away.

Dean laughed, and it felt hollow. Like him. Like Cas, Dean thought, as he watched the angel lay his head down on the counter top, smashing one of his ears against the lacquered wood.

“I’m drunk,” Cas whispered, his breaths heavy as he stared at the cukoo clock on the wall like he were taking it apart inside his brain. Dean was often fascinated by Cas’s mind. The way the angel viewed the world in parts and gears, dissecting the human experience with brilliant detail in an effort to grasp the heart of it.

“It’s here,” Dean said out loud, not bothering with context as he looked into Cas’s blue, glazed, sideways stare. Cas glanced to the bulging flesh of the Mark of Cain on Dean’s arm, blinking and furrowing his eyebrows. “This” Dean continued, “is humanity; it’s pain. It’s death.”

Dean’s eyes scanned the way that Cas’s shoulder blades caved in to the center of his back, the white, damp fabric of his shirt clinging to the form. And Dean’s face fell as he thought of the long black wings that used to span that empty space, thrusting Cas into the skies.

And now, Dean watched the angel’s ear turn red around the rims where it buckled under weight. It gave Dean pause as he realized the onus that ground Cas down. The burden that left the wane and thinned out version of God’s soldier.

Dean swallowed. He’d never asked. It felt wrong. But, tonight, with the heat and burn of the drinks in his stomach, he couldn’t seem to stop himself. Tentatively, Dean took a finger, drawing it down the crest of Cas’s bowed back, dragging the skin where Cas’s wings would be through his shirt. Cas shuddered and gave off a small exhale, but didn’t move. Dean felt his own body sink into the tiny bits of warmth Cas’s skin gave off where he touched, marveling that he’d never touched Cas like this before.

“Cas,” Dean said finally. Quietly. “Tell me about it.”

Cas’s eyes shut. Dean waited, wondering if the angel would deem him worthy to hear it.

Cas bit his lip, then opened his eyes, head still laying on the long surface of the counter.

“Hot,” the angel finally whispered, directing the comment to the cuckoo clock.

Dean waited.

“Like a log on a fire,” Cas choked, continuing. “Crackling. Flaking, peeling, feathers bursting in showers like dander. Lost to the abyss of the skies, before the atmosphere could berth the bits of my soul that were shedding away to rest on Earth.“

Dean swallowed. Cas’s face was calm, but there was something thick inside his voice as his words were muffled and grounded.

“Like Hell,” Dean suggested, but Cas’s stare was far, far away.

“No, not like Hell,” Cas said. “Like dying.”

Dean didn’t realize his fingers were still making patterns in Cas’s shirt as if he were carving symbols over the invisible scars. Normally, he would have stopped. But not now, when the world was amber with drink, and the touch was like a balm to Dean’s mark. The need was still there, but somehow, having Cas close softened the edges of it. Dean looked at Cas’s calm expression and the way Cas’s back muscles relaxed against his touch, wondering if the angel felt that way, too.

“Is there anything left?” Dean said, growing bolder as he imagined his fingers stroking through the matted patches of charred feathers.

“Yes,” Cas said, “some. Not enough, but some.”

Dean’s hands stilled as he blinked against the fog of the room. Finally, quietly, he whispered:

“Does it hurt?”

Cas bit his lip, blinking hard and rapidly, his breathing getting fast, shoulders tensing again as his gaze drilled through the wall behind the cuckoo clock.

Dean nodded, taking his hand off Cas’s back, letting it fall to his side again. He took a sip of his drink, wincing one more time. Then, slowly, he let his head fall down to the counter, his own ear smashed against the wood, looking at Cas.

And suddenly, Cas’s gaze wasn’t on the cuckoo clock. Finally, the angel was seeing Dean. They were together in a moment of loud breaths against the counter, staring and passing information quietly through the tiny space between them.

Cas’s gaze only broke to look down at Dean’s Mark.

“Does it hurt?” Cas whispered.

Dean let the fog part for Cas, wrapping them up together in a heady cloud of delirium and blue eyes. He swallowed.

“Not right now.”

pride-of-storm  asked:

ask meme: 30, 69, 75?

30: Name a kink you find bewildering.

I’ve been listening to the F plus podcast and there was a story where a guy got turned into a sock and worn by his dad.  That’s not even the part I find bewildering.  The transformation into a sock was described in loving, body-horror-esque detail, complete w/ limbs shrinking and mouths vanishing and an intermediate phase where he was like…. a fleshy person tube?  It reminded me viscerally of the transformation sequences in the animorphs.

I just wanna know who discovered their body horror transmogrification kink while reading animorphs.  That must have been a fun day.

69: Answer number 60 like it was a “fuck, marry, kill” rhetorical.

60: Dragons, dinosaurs, or aliens? 

I have thought about this question extensively since I made it up 20 minutes ago, and I think the answers are obvious.  

First of all I would kill a dinosaur.  This is because 1) dinosaurs are animals, obvs I am not going to marry or fuck one. it has a brain the size of walnut.  2) how fuckin’ cool would that be?  just like the ‘clever girl’ scene in jurassic park.  i’d probably wind up eaten by raptors.

Next, I would fuck an alien.  It’s an alien. Clearly the first item on the agenda is figuring out if we can make all the parts work together.

Finally, I would marry a dragon.  I like this choice because 1) can I fuck a dragon? would I die if I attempted the thing? let’s leave that category optional and proceed with caution.  2) how great a spouse would a giant freaking dragon make? SO GREAT.

75: Describe a weird encounter you had with a bug.

I have never met a bug in my life.

J/k.  But the other day I doubled-back midstep to look at a glimpse of a dead bug I caught on the sidewalk and I guess I looked like something had happened because some people came up to me to ask if I was okay and I had to explain I was examining the squashed roach.

All That We Needed: Jinyoung Request

Originally posted by jackseunie

AN: I caught some feelings on the way to school, so I decided to share them.

“Hey, I know you must be asleep right now. I just wanted to leave you a message saying that I hope you’re well. I hope you’re getting enough sleep. I know you’ve got a lot going on right now, but I want to make sure you’re okay. You’re okay? Are you taking care of yourself? Give me a call when you can. I miss you. I know I already said that. I’m sorry. I just miss you so much. I’m sorry. I can’t think of anything else to say, just I’m sorry and I… I still… I-I still lo—”

End of message. To delete this message, press seven. To replay this message, press—

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I blame @fairytalefix, @laura-p-g and @hezzer19 for suggesting that Mal could be a shy baby dragon. 

I totally didn’t did need to write fic where Mal agrees to help Henry with a spell to find Emma and gets de-aged down to a hatchling for a month. For reasons. (I’m not sure what reasons). 

Regina looks after a shy baby dragon. 

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Morning Run

Summary: You always go for a run by yourself every morning. It’s a little boring, to say the least, until someone comes along and makes it worth while.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Word Count: 2606

Warnings: Swearing.

A/N: I didn’t know if I wanted to make this about Bucky or Sebastian; Sebastian fits it better, so I did it with him instead this time! Please go easy on me I don’t know how this adorable plum would act on a run (He stopped to help a few girls with a scavenger hunt so there’s that)

Part Two Part Three


Day 27 of your morning run.

You never thought that you’d willingly get up so early to embrace the sweltering morning weather that New York City has to offer during the summer. You can’t believe how hot it is at 6am; 32° is enough to get you sweating while you’re getting dressed. Your back is damp as you tighten your laces.

You started a new training program to better your mind and body. The first three days focus on weight training, two on cardio, and two days of rest while flushing all your toxins and eating a lot of fruits and vegetables. There are days where you have cheat days, just because you can. You live alone in a small apartment, so there’s no one there to stop you.

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Fences (Part 1)

**Request: The reader is a hunter who is a chubby, and is self conscious about it. She is in love with Dean, but doesn’t feel good enough.** 

Warnings: Swearing, body image issues 

Part 2, Part 3

***Masterlist***


Originally posted by frozen-delight


The smell of apple and cinnamon fill my room in the bunker, as I light my first candle of autumn. Today was a research day for the boys and I, and I couldn’t be more excited.

It’s the first week in October and the weather is just now staying cool enough for me to wear long sleeves all day. I shrug on my favorite maroon and black flannel over my Led Zeppelin tee shirt, while sporting my comfiest dark grey joggers.

Heading to the kitchen to grab a hot mug of tea, I step one foot on the cold hallway floor, and I immediately shriek. Clamping my head on my mouth, I shrink back into my room, embarrassed.

“(Y/N) are you okay?” I hear Dean shout down the hallway. He is used to my shrieks by now, since spiders tend to pop up down here.  Yet he always checks on me. I smile, wondering if it’s his hunter side that checks on me, just in case something did happen since he can’t see me, or if he really just cares about me. Smiling I grab a pair of the fuzziest socks I own.

Walking back to the door I catch a glance at myself in the mirror, the smile slowly falling from my face. Pinching my love handles, I pull the skin away from my body. I do this everywhere, inspecting myself. I have large stretch marks allover my stomach, arms, legs, even my boobs.

I have always been over weight, even as a child. I love my self, I really do. Unfortunately I am also aware that just because I love myself, doesn’t mean that everyone else will, especially Dean.  

Why would Dean love someone who looks like me? He has beautiful girls hanging all over him. How insane would he have to be to like a girl whose boobs are even less perky then her attitude in the morning? Or a girl who has an ass that is giant, yet somehow shapeless? The girl who will eat an entire cheese burger, and fries, and a milkshake without batting an eye; not because she is super hungry, but because it’s the only thing she can control that makes her feel good.

Shaking my head at my negative thoughts I go to the kitchen like I originally planned. Normally I would be crying in a ball on the floor, but this happens so often now, I barley notice anymore.

My water is coming to a boil, when Dean strolls into the kitchen.

“Hey, so Sammy actually just finished the research, turns out the vampires are in a town about two hours away. We are going to be leaving in about thirty minutes so be ready.” Just like that he is out the door again, ruining my happy day.

Grumbling under my breath, I grab my tea and head back into my room to change into my hunting gear.


Changing into my black jeans, and black combat boots, I put my hair into a bun, and strap my extra knife and gun to myself. Downing the last of my tea, blowing out my candle and glancing at myself in the mirror I shrug, good enough.

The boys are in the library, waiting for me.

“There you are.” Dean says, like he was waiting hours for me.

“It’s been fifteen minutes Dean, you gave me thirty. If anything I am early.” I cross my arms, not in the mood for this shit. Dean puts his hands up in defense.

“Lets just go.” He grabs his bag and marches to the door, Sam following suite. Rolling my eyes I follow them, I just want to go and get back.

Dean blares his classic rocks so loud I can barley hear myself think, so I put my ear buds in, and play my music loud enough to drown out Deans. Shutting my eyes, I try and fall asleep.


A large hand grabs my shoulder and shakes me, causing me to jerk awake. Looking up I see Dean smiling at me. Yanking my head phones out of my ears Dean says, “Lets go sleepy head.” Yawning I place my headphones on the seat next to me. Climbing out of the car, Dean turns around a looks at me again. “Oh just so you know, you have a little something on your face, next to your mouth.” He turns back around as I lift my hand up, rubbing my mouth. Sure enough there was drool on my face. I feel my face heat up; Dean just caught me drooling, and I couldn’t be more embarrassed.

Trying to catch up to the boys, we arrive at an abandoned construction site. There were half built walls and fences everywhere, nothing looked easy to get at since they removed all laters and the stairs were half built.

“What happened, why did they stop building?” I turn to Sam, knowing he would have researched it.

“They found out this is ancient Indian burial ground, so they stopped building the mall that was going to be here.” I knew Sam would have the answers.

“So they are just going to leave it like this?” Its clear this was relatively recently, but still I would think they would demo it or something.

“They are waiting to hear from some officials if they can demo it and sell back the land. They don’t want to do anything until they know they can get their money back.” That makes sense, I guess. “The Vamps probably chose it cause there have been a bunch of teenagers coming to see if its haunted, so its easy pickings. Then when the kids die, it fuels the story even more to their peers, causing more kids to come and see the “Haunted” land.” I nod my head, unable to express any words for how sad that made me, that people would die, causing more to come see why thinking the same wouldn’t happen to them.

We trek further into the site, when suddenly the only way to go further is over a large fence. Dean goes first, not even breaking a sweat as he swiftly climbs, then launches him self over the top. He lands on his feet like a cat. Sam begins climbing before dean even hits the ground, going even faster due to his height.

I stare at the fence. I can’t climb this. I’m strong, but my weight makes climbing hard. I can feel a panic attack starting. I don’t have time to try or deliberate a different way, and the boys will be watching me.

The boys didn’t think twice as they started walking away from the fence, not noticing I haven’t come over it yet.

Sam glances behind him, making eye contact with me, he gives me a confused look. Tapping Dean on the shoulder he nods to me. They both lightly jog back over.


“What’s wrong (Y/N)? Lets go!” Dean says, turning back around. I start to stutter a little.

“Maybe I should stay on this side. You know, keep a look out on this side of the fence.” I’m twisting my hands nervously.

“No. That’s stupid, we stay together.” Dean’s patience is running out. Sam looks at me, still confused. Then I can see the light click behind Sam’s eyes. He is my best friend and knows me better than anyone. He might not know exactly why, but he knows I’m scared of something.

“What’s wrong (Y/N)?” Sam moves closer to the fence, likes he’s contemplating climbing back over.

“Nothing, I just…” taking a breath I change my mind on being honest. “Its nothing, really.”

“Okay then, lets go.” Dean gestures to the fence.

My fingers curl around the cold metal. My heart thuds in my chest, begging me not to do this. But Dean stares at me, and I know I can’t turn around and go back to the car. Taking a breath I put my right foot on the fence. Lifting I place my left foot on one of the gaps between the links. I am officially off the ground. I go to move my hand and I actually manage to take a couple steps up.

Then just like I predicted, my hands couldn’t do it anymore. The sweat made the metal slippery and I fall. Landing on my back, the wind is nocked out of me. Gasping for breath I hear Sam call my name. I do my best to sit up, unable to completely catch my breath.

Sam is right next to me, rubbing my back. He keeps asking if I am okay and after a minute I can finally squeak out an “I’m okay.” After another minute Sam helps me to my feet, he even brushes the dirt off me.

“What the hell was that? What kind of hunter can’t climb a fence?” Dean is laughing like a hyena. A sharp pain radiates through my chest. Once again I feel like I can’t breath, as tears fill my eyes. Sam tries to stop me as I start walking back to the impala, but he doesn’t come after me. 

As I reach the Impala, I contemplate leaving, its not like they would miss me anyway. I’m a shitty hunter who can’t even climb a fence.  

DIY Gornaments

You Will Need:

  • Variety of sizes of paintbrushes
  • White, Gray, Black and Red acrylic paint
  • Cup of water
  • Paper plate
  • Two blank ornaments
  • Paper towels

Jason ornament:

  1. Pour gray paint onto plate
  2. Remove ornament tops and set aside
  3. Take large brush and paint top to bottom
  4. Cover entire ornament
  5. Set aside until dry
  6. Add second coat of gray paint
  7. Set aside until dry
  8. Using smaller brush, paint a large white circle on ornament
  9. Fill in circle completely
  10. Set aside until dry
  11. Paint second coat of white
  12. Paint small black buckles on the top, right and left sides.  
  13. Paint two small ovals for eyes
  14. Use end of brush to add black “hockey mask” holes.
  15. Add one white dot to each buckle
  16. Paint two red lines across cheeks
  17. Paint small red triangle above eyes
  18. Jason is done!

Ghostface ornament:

  1. Pour white paint onto plate
  2. Paint top to bottom, covering completely
  3. Set aside until dry
  4. Touch up any spots
  5. Pour black paint onto plate
  6. Paint two small ovals for nose
  7. Paint large rounded mouth, shrinking at bottom.
  8. Paint two large curved eyes
  9. Ghostface is done!
.harmonization (Kagehina)

Summary: After declaring his need to be loved in the middle of practice, Kageyama settles for meeting Hinata halfway. Sequel to Synchronization.

.

If you asked fifteen year old Kageyama Tobio what he was doing in a locker room with the door locked and lights off, curled up on one side of a bench while blatantly ignoring the voices calling out to him on the other side of the door, he’d probably refuse to answer.

(Lest he say something else completely stupid.)

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Authors Note: I thought I’d give these two another go because they’re just so cute and I can’t…thank you to sparkle-senpai and the anonymous cuties for their requests! I hope you like this pointless, no-plot drabble which I’ve written in Sousuke’s POV for some reason? I hardly ever write in first person, so please be merciful with your critique!
Rated: T

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4

Your head was throbbing and you groaned softly as you attempted to open your eyes. God it seemed like you had been out forever, basically dead to the world. You could remember the last thing you saw, that brute of a mans fist coming at your face in slow motion. And then nothing.

Your eyes felt like they were glued closed, and you fought to blink them open, not expecting the excruciatingly fluorescent lights that greeted you when you finally did. Everything was white, and you squeezed your lids closed tight thinking you might still be in an unconscious dream. 

A shadow passed over you and suddenly a man was standing there, over you, his bright green eyes staring at you like you were something out of a horror movie. You saw his eyebrows knit as he leaned in closer and you tried to shrink away, opening your mouth to tell him to get out of your space but what came out of your mouth was a dry and shriveled “help”.

[x]

Rabid

Summary: Sam’s been infected, and it’s only a matter of time before he turns Rabid. Nothing could possibly be worse than this situation, right? 
Pairing: SamxReader
Words: 1970
Warning: Language. Angst (i think…). 
AN: This kinda hurt to write… but I also kinda enjoyed it. Is that weird?? Oh well. This is my entry for @ellen-reincarnated1967‘s ‘A Gif is Worth a Thousand Words’ challenge. I’ve also slipped last weeks SPN Hiatus Challenge in there… cos I was so busy. Enjoy!
Constructive Criticism Welcome!!!

***

So much had happened in the last 24hours you were surprised you were still able to function. Yet here you were, locked in a cupboard with Sam and a dead body.

You couldn’t help but stare in horror at the blood splattered across Sam’s mouth, but only for a moment. The continued rattling at the door jarred you both, and you scooted backwards into the corner of the room. “Sam” you whimpered, not even trying to hide your terror.

His eyes flicked from the door over to you, and then the slid to the body on the floor. In seconds he was on his feet, dragging the body over to you. “You have no open wounds, right?” he asked hurriedly, and you shook your head. “Then shut your mouth. Tight.”

Shrinking even further into the corner and slamming both your mouth and eyes shut, Sam draped the woman’s corpse over you. Just in time too, as the door was knocked in and three of the… the ‘Rabids’ stormed in.

Despite everything you’d experienced since you’d started hunting, this was the most terrifying thing you’d ever lived through. You tried so hard not to move, but your body was involuntarily trembling.

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Tips: How To Make Dating Fun

-Remember you have so much more ahead of you and so much more in you than finding love with the first person you share whiskey sours with at a crowded dive bar

-Stop thinking about your ex. Start thinking about how flawless you are.

-When dating gets you down, keep thinking about how awesome it feels to know you are about to get kissed by somebody for the very first time.

-Tell your date you’ll be “the mysterious girl in the green shirt” and then wear bright pink, never meet your date. Mysterious!

-Order the nachos and if they have that gooey queso sauce on them, don’t share. Swat hand away if they go near it. Use the axe you brought if you have to.

-Mentally tell yourself you won’t ask about their favorite movie, how many siblings they have, or where they went to college. Instead, think of a weird question like “what’s the last nightmare you had?” or “if you could only bring five foods to an island, what would they be?” and “do you mind if I take your wallet?” or “do you think the people at this bar would hear you scream?” and ask that instead.

-Don’t wear white! Not because of like, wedding shit, but because of marinara sauce and spilling you slob. You SLOB!

-Focus more on whether or not YOU are attracted to them than if they are attracted to you.

-When something is funny, laugh without covering your mouth. Stop shrinking—be as big as you are.

-Tell your bff’s the location of your date and any weird marks/tattoos on your date’s person, lest they try to murder you. Also keep a stack of money in a safe with the name of an attractive hit man one of your single friends might hit it off with. Dates are always fun when you know your murder will be avenged.

-Be completely and utterly yourself. Don’t be an open book: be the Amazon preview of the book that shows the authentic pages without spoiling the whole damn thing. Cuz If somebody’s going to call you for more dates (or love you forever, and spoon baby food into your mouth when you’re toothless and old), they might as well like the real you. Dating isn’t a competition to find out how many people are attracted to the version of yourself you choose to show, it’s a competition to get more than half of the fries you are sharing.

-Also, reminder: you don’t have to go on a date to find true love. That is really hard! You are not in a Disney movie! You can go on a date to find an interesting person to talk about television with, argue with, have casual sex with, or just chalk up to a weird experience.

-OMG if you haven’t read the book or seen the movie, the best answer is not to lie but say “it’s on my list. Have you seen ____” and move them away from that stupid thing people do where they lecture you for not seeing what they think is a great thing.

-If they don’t call you back, brush that shit off your shoulders. There are billions of people on the planet and you are not going to be attracted to all of them, so instead of going “waaaaah I’m ugly and stupid” stop wallowing and realize rejection is not the end of the world, to you or them.

-Don’t put up with shit. Actively dating means you can actively find other people to date: let’s not get caught up in Semi-Alcoholic Johnny Depp Cry Baby who texts in one-word answers just cuz you’re attracted to him. Move the hell on and find somebody whose age matches their level of maturity. Know when to bow the fuck out gracefully.

-Be tough. Just get a thick skin and plow on.

-Be honest with what you want from somebody.

-Suggest a fun but exciting date idea like “let’s stay inside!” or “feed me Pirate’s Booty!” or “go to the zoo and stand by the penguins until they start doing it!” idk I prefer to just go and meet somebody for a coffee and see if I want to jump inside their mouth or if I’d rather shove them on a boat with coins over their eyes, don’t know if this tip is helpful.

-If somebody doesn’t like Community or Parks or Yonce or vegan enchiladas as much as you do, but they genuinely want to go on a date with you, go. If somebody has brown hair instead of blonde hair, or they work on Wall Street or as a bartender or live in Queens, but they genuinely want to go on a date with you, go. Lighten up and a) meet somebody cool b) have a really funny story to tell all your friends at happy hour, three drinks deep.

-If dating tires you out and you just want to be alone for a while, never feel pressure to date. Just because you’re friends are pestering you if you’ve “met anybody new” or some shit, never feel pressure to leave the house and date. Being alone is just as important and just as great.

-Again: want to be a great catch? Be happy alone and be satisfied with yourself. Be your own damn date.

-OMG if they creep you out LEAVE LEAVE LEAVE, you do not need to be a cautionary tale because you are too polite. And yes, still don’t go to the bathroom with an unattended drink. SAFE, y’all. Law and Order SVU, y’all.

-You wanna have fun while dating? Lighten up. Have some fun! Don’t take this creepy ritual we do so seriously, it will all fall into place in time. Kiss and laugh and go egggh and text your friend “ew this is horrible” in the bathroom: all of it is just little moments in this ridiculous ride.

-It’s okay to be nervous. We’re all weirdo human bone bags that meet up with other bone bags to eat penne and talk about our European travels and smoosh our mouths together until we find somebody we want to smoosh for a long time and eat takeout with and make little smooshy poop humans with. It’s gonna be a weird journey. Let’s get weird.

i was talking to lucas lucastheprince the other night about the vintage meme known as Woll Smoth and it occurred to me that the youngins on tumblr dot com these days have never heard of woll smoth so let me explain woll smoth to you:

in like 2007-2008ish people started photoshopped celebrities to shrink their eyes and mouths and changing all the vowels in their names to the letter o

and the first was will smith, or woll smoth

honestly i think we should bring back woll smoth 

Dean wasn’t entirely sure when his “problem” began, exactly. Frankly, that wasn’t what concerned him. He knew it’d been a while. Longer than he’d expected to be alive, to be perfectly honest. When the world was ending and certain death imminent, it had been easy to just his issue on the back burner. There had always something more important. 

For all the catastrophic mayhem life had sent him, this particular problem should really have been the least unnerving for Dean. It was about as normal as it could get. Maybe that was why it scared him so much.

There were certain things, in the hunter’s life, things that he’d long accepted that he couldn’t have. People could get hurt; attachments were too great a luxury to afford. Sam was proof of that. 

To put it bluntly, Dean Winchester has been wanting to sleep with Castiel for the better part of the last six years.

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