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Twiggy, AKA Trashpanda

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“Let’s watch the sun go down.” Twiggy, Fairyland Minifee Shushu

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<3 Twiggy #mnf #bjd #shushu

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Alice's totoro hoodie arrived! And it's friggin cute >.< #cyristinecreations #bjd #unoa

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yup

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plus size masterpost

shopping for plus size clothes is hard. shopping for plus size clothes in your price range is harder. so i’ve decided to compile an (ongoing) list of clothing stores that carry plus size clothes. i’ve arranged it by their average price range, bc i know my budget so i know which i can afford to shop at, and i dont like having to click every link on a masterpost trying to find one i deem affordable.

0-25

Forever 21

Rue 21

Mod Deals

Rainbows

Casual Plus

Debs

New Look

Old Navy

Styles for Less

G-Stage

Cato’s

Gordmans

25-50

Maurices

H&M

Macy’s

Redress NYC

Target

Wet Seal

Yours

Alight

ASOS

Woman Within

Charlotte Russe (buy one get one for $8 sales tho)

Dorothy Perkins

Hot Topic

Lindy Bop

Full Beauty

50-100

Torrid

Avenue

Chubby Cartwheels

City Chic

Domino Dollhouse

eShakti

Fashion To Figure

Evans

Lane Bryant

Montif C

Modcloth

Sealed with a Kiss

Simply Be

Talbots

Penningtons

Miss Guided

Catherines

Eloquii

Kiyonna

100+

Addition Elle

Igigi

Mynt1792

Navabi

Nordstrom

Pinup Girl Clothing

Cherry Velvet

Tadashi Shojii

Tatyana

i will keep this updated so if you see i left anything off, just message me and tell me!

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Me when I was 10: I’m thirsty My family: That’s funny, I thought your name was Kirsty! Me when I was 10: *pout, sulk* My husband on behalf of 10 year old me: AHAHAHA I will kill you in your sleep

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Remember that reddit post that was going around several months ago about the dude who wanted an open relationship with his girlfriend because he wanted to date “hotter” women than his fat girlfriend but then when she agreed she was dating tons of hot guys and he couldn’t get a single woman to date him so he wanted to close the relationship because he thought it was unfair?

Sometimes I think about that and it gives me life.  

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i’m so upset

I just realized that the reason ghosts say Boo! is because it’s a latin verb

they’re literally saying ‘I alarm/I am alarming/I do alarm!!

I can’t

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This doll is just making me rage with happiness >.<

I bought this head specifically for faceup practice and was planning on eventually selling her along with the floating minifee body that I’ve had for years. Unfortunately, this poor homeless thing grew on me and now she isn’t going anywhere. Meet Twiggy, my darling hobo, my wonderful mooching trash panda.

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I used Jack Frost from Rise of the Guardians as a reference for this commission as the customer is putting together a Jack Frost doll. I managed to catch his playful smirk in the eyebrows.

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I suggest all females watch this. 

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Faceup on Soom Beyla. I love how the colours came out for this one! And those tiny little teeth are so cute :D

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Toad Words

            Frogs fall out of my mouth when I talk. Toads, too.

            It used to be a problem.

            There was an incident when I was young and cross and fed up parental expectations. My sister, who is the Good One, has gold fall from her lips, and since I could not be her, I had to go a different way.

            So I got frogs. It happens.

            “You’ll grow into it,” the fairy godmother said. “Some curses have cloth-of-gold linings.” She considered this, and her finger drifted to her lower lip, the way it did when she was forgetting things. “Mind you, some curses just grind you down and leave you broken. Some blessings do that too, though. Hmm. What was I saying?”

            I spent a lot of time not talking. I got a slate and wrote things down. It was hard at first, but I hated to drop the frogs in the middle of the road. They got hit by cars, or dried out, miles away from their damp little homes.

            Toads were easier. Toads are tough. After awhile, I learned to feel when a word was a toad and not a frog. I could roll the word around on my tongue and get the flavor before I spoke it. Toad words were drier. Desiccated is a toad word. So is crisp and crisis and obligation. So are elegant and matchstick.

            Frog words were a bit more varied. Murky. Purple. Swinging. Jazz.

I practiced in the field behind the house, speaking words over and over, sending small creatures hopping into the evening.  I learned to speak some words as either toads or frogs. It’s all in the delivery.

            Love is a frog word, if spoken earnestly, and a toad word if spoken sarcastically. Frogs are not good at sarcasm.

            Toads are masters of it.

            I learned one day that the amphibians are going extinct all over the world, that some of them are vanishing. You go to ponds that should be full of frogs and find them silent. There are a hundred things responsible—fungus and pesticides and acid rain.

            When I heard this, I cried “What!?” so loudly that an adult African bullfrog fell from my lips and I had to catch it. It weighed as much as a small cat. I took it to the pet store and spun them a lie in writing about my cousin going off to college and leaving the frog behind.

            I brooded about frogs for weeks after that, and then eventually, I decided to do something about it.

            I cannot fix the things that kill them. It would take an army of fairy godmothers, and mine retired long ago. Now she goes on long cruises and spreads her wings out across the deck chairs.

            But I can make more.

            I had to get a field guide at first. It was a long process. Say a word and catch it, check the field marks. Most words turn to bronze frogs if I am not paying attention.

            Poison arrow frogs make my lips go numb. I can only do a few of those a day. I go through a lot of chapstick.  

            It is a holding action I am fighting, nothing more. I go to vernal pools and whisper sonnets that turn into wood frogs. I say the words squeak and squill and spring peepers skitter away into the trees. They begin singing almost the moment they emerge.

            I read long legal documents to a growing audience of Fowler’s toads, who blink their goggling eyes up at me. (I wish I could do salamanders. I would read Clive Barker novels aloud and seed the streams with efts and hellbenders. I would fly to Mexico and read love poems in another language to restore the axolotl. Alas, it’s frogs and toads and nothing more. We make do.)

            The woods behind my house are full of singing. The neighbors either learn to love it or move away.

            My sister—the one who speaks gold and diamonds—funds my travels. She speaks less than I do, but for me and my amphibian friends, she will vomit rubies and sapphires. I am grateful.

            I am practicing reading modernist revolutionary poetry aloud. My accent is atrocious. Still, a day will come when the Panamanian golden frog will tumble from my lips, and I will catch it and hold it, and whatever word I spoke, I’ll say again and again, until I stand at the center of a sea of yellow skins, and make from my curse at last a cloth of gold.

Terri Windling posted recently about the old fairy tale of frogs falling from a girl’s lips, and I started thinking about what I’d do if that happened to me, and…well…

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They've been through a lot but they still have each other. #unoa #peakswood #slimmsd #yosd

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::: par Hiya Cadenza