wire leaves

idk how to walk Mary home but I wanna

It’s An Older Sibling Thing

Characters: Dean Winchester x Friend!Reader, Sam Winchester x Friend!Reader

Length: 1469+ words

TW: Mentions of drug dealing, prostitution, and child abuse

A/N: I’m so sorry I’m posting this so late! I literally wrote this the night I signed up for the Challenge, but completely forgot about it ;; This is for @not-moose-one-shots 6K Writing Challenge! Congrats on 6000 followers, boo! And thank you for hosting the Challenge. This is my first time joining a Challenge, and I’m so glad I did it! 

11.  “He must pay well.”


A low growl erupted from your throat as the demon took your laptop from your backpack. Two days. It’s been two days since you were kidnapped, and tortured.

“You hunters think you’re so smart,” the demon taunted with a smirk. You looked over his shoulder, realizing that he was tracking Dean’s location. It was the same technique that every hunters used when you needed someone’s location- all you needed was their phone numbers. “We’ve picked up a few skills while being hunted.” He laughed with a wicked grin. “Now, c’mon. We’re gonna pay the Winchesters a little visit.” He raised his gun, and knocked your skull with the butt of it.

When you came to, you realized you were laying on a motel bed, the yellow lighting being too bright for your eyes. You groaned in pain, trying to assess your surroundings. The binds that were around your wrists and ankles were gone, and you felt the uncomfortable feeling of gauze and tape around your injuries.

“Easy, Y/N,” a voice rumbled from the other bed.

“Dean?” you called, turning your head to face him. His jaw tensed as you looked at him with confusion on your face. The motel room was a mess as if a hurricane went through it.

“That’s what happens when you lead a demon to our room,” he sniped, seeing you look around the room.

“What do you-”

“The demon you brought here.”

“Brought here?”

“Don’t play dumb, Y/N.” Dean rolled his eyes. “We know you told him our location in exchange for your life.”

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The Meaning of Love

Summary: Phil Lester is an intern at the British Society of the Prevention of Cruelty to Neko – an organisation that focuses on rescuing abandoned or mistreated neko and rehabilitating them for re-adoption. He can’t say he fully agrees with the way many neko are treated, but in a world where they have no rights Phil has to agree that being someones pet is the best option for them. Then neko #504 is brought into the shelter and Phil finally realises just how alike humans and neko are.

Genre: Angst, fluff, a little smut, lots and lots of feels

Word count: 17,260

Warning: Mentions of past physical/sexual abuse

Notes: I got a couple of prompts asking for a neko!dan fic so I started writing one and this monster happened. I ended up writing and editing all this in less than three days and honestly, I’m proud of this.

You can also read on AO3 here.

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I’m thinking I need to find a roller coaster
or a rock concert, somewhere
I can scream at the top of my lungs because that’s the only sound I’ve got 
rattling around this otherwise empty head. 
Maybe drive myself to the hospital,
bypass the overworked nurses in the ER
and go straight to the morgue
where I’ll shriek so loud that it would be easy to imagine the corpses sitting up
whispering to their cold neighbours 
“I think there’s something wrong with her.”
When the mortician asks what I’m doing I’ll tell him something died
between you and me
I’m just here to get some embalming fluid;
I’ll numb myself up inside then slip back upstairs,
tumble into the mental health unit, 
ask the doctor for a new diagnosis because
my Google history is getting pretty boring.
I’ll throw the temper tantrum of a child,
filled with the blinding rage of the scorned woman trope 
(but without the pomp and circumstance necessary
for it to be passionate, rather than pathetic).
Shove my arm through the only window on the floor and then beg the doctor to stitch me up,
spend the next six days picking fights to avoid picking at the plastic wire.

When I leave, I leave chaos.
Everyone is relieved to see the back of me;
It is so much easier to keep everything together without me grinning mean 
trying to tear it all apart.

—  Every quiet room seems too loud; let me go, let me go (a.p.)
3

Steampunk Rose

I’ve been wanting to make this pendant for about a year now. When I received the gorgeous vintage handmade roses they took my breath away. Over time the metal has oxidised to a very subtle rainbow of colours. I’ve lightly dusted the rose with holographic dust to catch the eye as it moves around. For durability I mounted the rose in a tiny serrated teeth funnel and added a curved tubing as the stem. I had two tiny stamped leaf shape brass charms with raised dimples for more texture. Finally I used a three strand wire for the leaves so I could use one wire strand as tendrils. All are mounted to the solid brass bead “vase”. Available in my Etsy store here.  US$79 plus $7 postage.

//A Ratt’s living arrangements

When He Wakes

When he wakes, eyes heavy and head groggy, the room is grey and brown and crumbling—exactly the opposite of the smooth cool whiteness at the Triskelion. It would be his first clue that something has gone very wrong if he couldn’t feel the slim cool metal of cuffs around each of his wrists and the throbbing pulsing burn of a wound in his side. He jerks before he can control himself. Pain shoots up and down his limbs and he bites his tongue to keep from groaning.

“Shh, shh,” a voice says, even though he didn’t make a noise, not a single sound. “Don’t move too much.”

The hot ball of anger that sits at his core nearly spats out that he can hardly move too much if he’s chained to a bed, but he will not tolerate that kind of weakness, even in himself. Certainly not when it might give these rebels, these subversives, a chink in his armor. Gritting his teeth, he twists his torso away from the hands plucking at his shirt and feels his brain blink out for a second. A nearly silent inhale provides little comfort, and he struggles to reach through the fog to remember what happened.

“You got shot.” The voice answers his unspoken question in a tone halfway between annoyance and alarm. “And they refuse to let me use their precious store of antibiotics so for God’s sake hold still so it can heal properly.”

They may not have given him antibiotics but they’re certainly feeding him painkillers, he realizes as his eyes try to droop shut again. The better to subdue him, he imagines, until they’ve got their response ready. He forces his eyes open and stares at the ceiling, unwilling to give them the satisfaction of either sleep or eye contact. “Want me in good health so you can torture me without guilt?” he manages to sneer.

“We’re not going to torture you.”

His eyebrows crease into the shape that looks like pitying amusement and masks surprise.

“Yes, really. I won’t let them.”

He shouldn’t give her the satisfaction. He knows reacting at all will only play into their hands, knows this is all a mind-game, knows they’re just looking for a sign of weakness to use against him, against Ophelia.

He looks anyway.

The woman, Jemma Simmons, looks back at him.

continue reading on Ao3

Outcast (High-School AU)// Mark Tuan

Originally posted by jordragon

Pairing: Mark x Reader (ft. Jackson, Jinyoung + Yugyeom)

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Oneshot

Summary//Request: Being the school outcast doesn’t bother you too much - except for the grief you receive from 4 boys in your class - little do you know, Mark has always had a thing for you.

This scenario contains slight mentions of bullying.


It’s not that you hated high-school – you just hated the people that were in it. Everyone had their group, their clique that they belonged to; the popular girls, the popular boys, the kids that were dedicated to studying, the alternative kids that seemed to own mostly black clothing and so on, so forth. However; you never really found yourself ‘fitting’ into any of these categories. You wouldn’t have said you were completely dedicated to your studies, but you did well in your classes and the teachers recognised it. You weren’t so much interested or outgoing when it came to sports – but you enjoyed gym nonetheless. With that being said, you excelled the most in visual and audible arts with music being your favourite subject bar none – allowing you to express your creativity in whichever way you saw fit.

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urhotmess-deactivated20160424  asked:

How do you make the flowers for the flower crown? like specifically what material is it? Its super cool and I want to make one I just don't know what I need.

Hmm, I just reblogged it from another site, but I think I can help you in terms of what to buy and how to do it. If you click the link, it’ll take you to the complete photo post that shows you what you need. In any event, here’s the list:

  • Nail polish
  • Floral wire, a thin bendable wire is ideal. 26 Gauge is fine. 
    External image
    External image
  • Floral Tape            
    External image
  • Wire cutters/scissors
  • a pencil or cylindrical object to wrap the petals around
  • Ribbon (optional)

DIRECTIONS

  1. First, you’re gonna need to make the crown. You can do this by using the wire you already have or you can use an old headband or anything that you like that resembles a headpiece. Thicker wire is also fine for this step.

           As you can see, OP twisted two pieces of wire together and left loops at the end (to attach the ribbon). Then they covered it in brown floral tape.
  2. The second step is to make the flowers. Using your pencil/cylindrical object, twist the wire around it to create a ‘petal’. Repeat this until you have at least a couple of petals. 3-6 is usually fine, it’s really your call. 

  3. SLIGHTLY bend the petals back to create a natural looking petal.

  4. After you are satisfied with the shape of your petals, cut out your flower, leaving some wire left to attach it to your crown. 
  5.  Repeat the first few steps and make the rest of your flowers.
  6. Take one of your flowers and CAREFULLY apply nail polish to it, one petal at a time. Think of it like making bubbles. It may be easier to pour the nail polish in a flat plate and dip it, or dip the entire flower into the polish.

    Repeat this for all your remaining flowers.
  7. Twist the two ends of your flowers together to form a ‘stem’.

  8. Wrap the stems with floral tape, preferably with the same color you used in the base of the crown.

    Repeat this for all your remaining flowers.
  9. The third step will be attaching the flowers to your crown. You can do this a few ways. One way is to wrap the stems around the crown. Another way is to just wrap the stems with floral tape as you go along, like the OP did.

    Do this until all your flowers have been attached to your crown.
  10. At this point, you can tie the ribbons to the loops like OP did, or decorate it any other way you like. :)

Enjoy your new floral crown!

TIPS

  • You can purchase most of the items in Walmart, Michael’s or any craft or flower store. You can also order it online. :)
  • REMEMBER, this tutorial is just a guide. If you don’t want to use brown floral tape or if you prefer using the green floral wire, don’t be afraid to change it up. You can use any color or material your heart desires.

I’ll refer you to an ask where I gave a few tips. ASK by starry-ponds

And here are some completed flower crowns from some lovely tumblr users. :)  Alyssa & Rebekka

And here is the original link to the post. It’s in Russian.

I also happened across a video that someone linked to in one of the reblogs of my post. It involves using glue as a base that helps make the process easier (and more durable).

Sorry for replying late. I hope this helps you with making your own crown. :)

Things I associate with VIXX

N: Playing with puppies, the feeling of the sun on your skin, lazy days, white bed sheets, playing with hair, star gazing, drinking warm coffee, aged books, eating macaroons, holding hands across a table, cuddling on the couch, writing in a diary, calligraphy, climbing trees, playing in the sand at the beach, traveling to London, paper bags, felt tip pens, split coffee, chocolate chip cookies.

Hongbin: Mirrors, taking pictures, collared shirts, Polaroids, scrap booking, watches, grand father clocks, white converse, sketching with pens, playing in the snow, denim jackets, grey cardigans, listening to music on a train, walking around the countryside, bike riding by the beach, fairy lights, cloudy days, maps, gravel, burning paper.

Leo: Freckles, broken glass, fluorescent lights, doc martens, tile floors, dates at the aquarium, floating in open water, mirages, candle sticks, rings, sitting at the bottom of a pool, walking along railroad tracks, getting lost at night, sitting by a lake, a cool night breeze, street lights, wet roads, water distortion, dreams, crashing waves, lathering soap, wire armatures.

Ken: Fallen yellow leaves, sunflowers, eating oranges on a hot day, glitter, painting, drinking tea, feeling grass on your feet, caramel, soft serve ice cream, picking flowers, flannel, doodling on the corner of a page, falling asleep in a field, waiting for a subway, eating eggs in the morning, checking things off of a to do list, dried flowers.

Ravi: Sitting in an old book shop, playing with matches, untied shoe laces, dried roses, drinking red wine, eating raspberries, rubies, late nights at a bar, a crescent moon, drinking coffee alone in the middle of the night, smeared lipstick, trespassing in old train yards, getting a cut, abandoned libraries, bomber jackets, scratch marks, hickeys.

Hyuk: Flowers floating in water, bath bombs, antique replica ships, collecting crystals, marshmallows, white Adidas, sleeping in late, bubble baths, pink lemonade, shy kisses, playing with hair, platinum blonde hair, pink hoodies, strawberries, baseball hats, putting photos on your wall, cherry blossoms, eating peaches, rhinestones.


Disclaimer: I don’t know VIXX very well. I only listen to a few of their songs. Please do not be upset if it does not turn out the way you want. This is my interpretation. (I literally only look at one picture of them and base it off of that.)

Sugar Rush

Draco Malfoy x Reader
In which Draco wakes up to find a dream of a girl in his bed
Word Count: 541


It’s a dream, the way that the canopy curtains flutter back and a girl - the girl, a cotton candy daze untangling herself from Draco’s sleep - settles herself on his sheets.

There’s a kaleidoscopic current drowning her in blue; water that’s seeping through a fist-knocked fissure in the glass pressing a seaweed shadow against her cheek. The ends of her hair are dripping, spitting pools in the empty cement of her collarbones. She’s a smear of paint in the early morning air, fingerprints smudged in a Slytherin green.

He doesn’t know what she’s doing here.

Doesn’t bother to ask.

Because she’s draping the bends of her knees over the hollows of his hips; nails breaking the skin on his shoulders. There’s a magnet grab skip of his heart that he’s sure she can feel, and he hasn’t done this, before, hasn’t felt her skin against his quite like this -

His breath snags in his throat as she runs her thumb across his lower lip.

The words, when he garners enough sense to say them, trip over his teeth. Shatter in the live-wire air and leave him with blood and glass painted across his cheeks.

“Can I kiss you?”

The edges of her mouth tilt upwards in a sweet tooth smile.

It’s an adrenaline rush, his lips against hers. A sucker punch that yanks the air from his lungs as their teeth knock and their noses catch and he trails his fingers over her bruised up knees.

It’s getting harder to breathe.

Because it’s a pipe dream that he’s pressing to his lips, a kiss that’s getting lost in the smoke.

She’d been a memory that hadn’t happened yet, but they’re spilling Polaroids beneath their feet: silhouetted scenes of his fingertips getting caught on her cheeks.

He’s been dragged beneath the currents. Can feel his lungs overflowing like a sink.

Moments are registering like snapshots in his hindbrain:

Her breath against his neck as she undoes the buttons of his shirts,

His thumbs tracing grooves across her ribs,

The clutch of his hair in her first as she tilts her head back and he sees the slope of the moon against her neck.

“Draco,” she murmurs, and the seconds are blurring now.

He’s opening his eyes beneath the waves.

She’s the siren that had lured him under.

Salt is slicking the scars on his chest as she drags them beneath her nails.

He’d dreamt of a moment like this and now it feels like he’s almost awake.

Because she’s saying his name again, punctuating it with her teeth puncturing his skin.

Friction is scratching like a match against Draco’s bones. A flame that’s being smothered by doused smoke. Her lipstick is clouded against his teeth, a blossom sticky tattoo.

“Draco,” she whispers, pauses with a gasp against his jaw. “You’re not going to remember this.”

And the moment is starting to splinter.

Cotton candy that’s dissolved beneath his tongue.

He kisses her one last time, tries to memorize the feel of her lips -

It’s a dream, with her waist undulating beneath his fists, and the smell of soaked down perfume stitched into the sheets.

It’s a dream, and Draco can’t quite believe it when he wakes up.