Hey, so I know I’ve only posted Supernatural so far on here, but here’s a little Harry Potter thingy I threw together because I felt like it.

Young Sirius x Reader

Word Count: 2646

I’m sorry, I know that there’s someone already “fan casted” for young Sirius, but whenever I picture young Sirius, I will always picture Ian Somerhalder, so that is who I’m using. Oopsies.

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You were curled up in a small ball on a cream-colored chair in your bedroom, the one you had next to the window with the white curtains drawn shut, your knees tucked underneath you and a book laying across your legs. You were wearing a humungous long-sleeved Gryffindor Quidditch t-shirt that fell about to your mid-thigh, as it had once belonged to your much taller than you and much more muscular than you boyfriend, before you “stole” it from him. (In reality, he was happy that you took it, seeing you wear his clothes was one of his favorite things in the world.)

  It had been a week since your sixth year of Hogwarts had ended, and now it was summertime. Three in the morning and sixty degrees outside. Just the way you liked it.

  However, you were internally panicking every second at the thought of the love of your life and what it must be like for him right now. While you were enjoying your summer with your lovely parents in your nice house with the pool in the backyard and your overly energetic ten-year-old dog, poor Sirius was stuck in a humungous gray, lifeless mansion, either in his room trying to avoid everyone, or being screamed at repeatedly for his “failures”. It made you tear up even thinking about anyone treating him like that. The fact that anyone could ever possibly think that your kind, incredibly handsome, strong, brave, (fairly) smart, funny, selfless, giggly, loving, cuddly, adorable boyfriend of three years and absolute best friend of six was a failure of any kind physically hurt you to think about.

  Slamming your book shut and leaning your head back on your chair, you squeezed your eyes closed, unable to think about anything else now other than Sirius. You thought about how much you wanted to be laying across him on the couch, your head resting on his chest and listening to the sound of his heartbeat, the crackling of the fireplace, and the occasional rumbling of his voice as he whispered something to you, running his fingers through your hair endlessly, completely content to just be laying there. You thought about how much you wanted to spend Christmas with him at Hogwarts again, you, Sirius, James, and Remus all wearing ugly Christmas sweaters James had purchased, Sirius’ sweater hugging him perfectly while you drowned in yours, the thick wool falling almost to your knees. Staying up in the common room with Sirius on Christmas Eve after the two of you had so excitedly been counting down for the last month, both of you wearing lopsided but adorable Santa and Mrs. Claus hats, laughing and giggling at random things until it hit midnight and the two of you discovered you had been cuddling under the mistletoe all night, gently kissing as it officially became Christmas Day. Completely losing it and laughing your asses off when James walked down the steps into the common room the second you split apart, dressed in a full Santa suit (including the massive, white, slightly Dumbledore-esque beard), with a giant red sack full of your presents thrown over his shoulder. How wide his eyes had gotten when he realized the two of you were still awake and him laughing a little before hesitantly walking backwards up the steps with a, “Ho? Ho? Ho?” You and Sirius losing it again before making your way up to his room and falling asleep in his arms with a smile on your face. Being woken up by Remus and James leaping onto your bed in their previously mentioned ugly Christmas sweaters, jumping up and down and screaming “MERRY CHRISTMAS, LOVEBIRDS!!!” All four of you running downstairs to open gifts, the only four students that had stayed over the holiday. Spending the day by the fire and listening to the record player and collection of records (old and new) that Sirius had somehow bought you, which was extra sweet knowing that it was a Muggle invention that he would have had to learn about and figure out and then spend a ton of money on, knowing how much you would love one. The record player that was now only a few feet away from you on a stand in your room after you had brought it home for the summer.

  You remembered playing Quidditch, a Chaser, until some random Slytherin you were playing against purposely threw a Bludger at your head and sent you toppling thirty feet straight down off your broomstick. How Sirius had zoomed to you the second you left the wooden stick, pushing with everything he had in him to get to you before you hit the ground, but failing to get there. You remembered being rushed to the hospital wing, how no matter how hard they tried to get him to go away, Sirius insisted that he was the first one to get to you on the field and he would be the last one to leave your side, that it was only fair as he followed like a lost puppy until you were in the hospital wing, his fingers intertwined with yours and body racked with sobs as he blamed himself for you getting hurt, convinced that he should have blocked the Bludger, caught you before you hit the ground, something, although there was nothing he could have done. You blacked out about three or four minutes after the fall, but you were told in private by James that he had been bawling, repeating “I’m sorry, I’m a terrible person and a worse boyfriend, I love you, I love you, please be okay, you can hate me if you want, sweetheart, but please be okay, I love you so much please” over and over again. The thought of it broke your heart. It had taken you a few months to remember everything that happened in the few minutes after you hit the ground, given that the hit had given you a concussion and three broken bones. Which, luckily Madam Pomfrey repaired in a week, but she highly recommended you stayed off the field the rest of the season, and you promised her that even if she hadn’t said something, there was no way Sirius would let you touch a broomstick any time before you were thirty. She had just smiled knowingly at you before saying, “I don’t think that boy’s left your side for a second the last week unless I told him he had to so I could do something. I’d be shocked if he’s eaten or gone to a single class since the game. You’ve got yourself a keeper, hon, you really do.”

  After the fall, you had spent the last twelve games of the season in the stands, all decked out in some sort of house t-shirt and your team varsity jacket or sweatshirt. Most of the time you would also put face paint on each cheek: a line of red on each, a line of gold on each. Sirius loved it, especially when you would put his number on one underneath the lines. The team wasn’t as good without you, not nearly, but the fact that you were right there for them, cheering them on from the sidelines, seemed to give them enough of a reason to push through and (barely) win the majority of the games.

  You remembered when you finally told each other how you felt and he begged asked you to be his. It was very early fourth year and James was so tired of hearing Sirius go on and on about you (as was Remus of hearing you go on and on about Sirius to him) that the two of them somehow convinced Sirius to just go for it and ask you to the Yule Ball. He had been so nervous approaching you, shaking and awkwardly holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers behind his back. “I, erm, I’ve kind of been slowly been writing this, um, big giant speech that I would eventually give you……erm, sort of for the last two years. And now I’m realizing that I’ve- um, forgotten, most of it and that, oh, god, I’m ruining this whole thing and- Y/N, you’re my best friend in this whole entire world. Don’t tell James. You’ve been there with me through everything, and I feel like I can tell you anything. I honestly, I don’t know how I would have made it through everything without you. I need you, Y/N. And as bad as I feel because I know there’s no way you’ll ever feel the same way, every time we hug or walk around together or you kiss my cheek or fall asleep against me or laugh or even just look at me- I guess I would say that, um, my heart, it just flies. I know I’m just embarrassing myself now and you probably just feel bad for me, I just, I think that- I think that you’re the greatest person in the world. You’re so beautiful and smart and funny and talented and kind and absolutely everything that I’m not. I’m in love with you. There, I finally said it out loud. I’m, um, I am in love with you, and I’m holding onto the tiniest chance that even after this shitty awful speech of mine that maybe you would be willing to, um, go with me? To the Yule Ball?” You remembered how he looked down at the ground, completely ashamed of himself for “ruining” everything, you standing there in shock until you stepped forward, lifted his head and said, “Sirius, I’ve been in love with you since first year,” and flung your arms around him. How he had laughed and spun you around, how as he put you down he cried, “Wait, so……is that a, a yes?!?” And how you replied, “Of course it’s a yes, you idiot!”

  And you remembered the day you first met Sirius Black. The day that you, a confused, muggleborn eleven-year-old girl stumbled your way onto the huge train with gigantic eyes full of wonder. How you wandered from compartment to compartment, only to see that all of them were full………except for one. The one with the messy haired kid with dorky glasses and the (even then) handsome boy with ebony hair, fighting back and forth over some sort of sport team. How you had shyly slid the door open, despite your outgoing nature, and cautiously asked, “Can, um, can I sit in here with you two? All the other compartments are completely full.” How the handsome one had grinned at you, nodding his head as he quickly replied, “Yeah, definitely!” How the three of you sat together, laughing and joking and planning pranks, immediately hitting it off. You were instant friends. James and Sirius told you everything there was to know about the sorting ceremony, and how they were sure you would end up in Gryffindor, which they seemed to think was the best house by far. You remembered how close you and Sirius seemed to be after only a few minutes of talking, and how James had later told you that he could see it the second you stepped into their compartment.

  You sighed, standing up and walking across your room to put your book back on the shelf, when you heard a loud crash and a yelp from downstairs. You leaped what seemed to be five feet in the air at the sudden noise cutting through the silence, heart racing out of your chest as you swiped your wand off your dresser, just in case, and crept swiftly down the stairs and into the living room. Running into the room and flicking on the light switch in a second, you yelled, “Who’s there?!?” in an angry tone, only to see a familiar, tall figure in front of your fireplace.

  He turned to face you, black hair whipping around his head and an incredibly scared, vulnerable expression on his face that made your heart ache.

  “Sirius?” you breathed out, running towards him and falling into his arms, wrapping yours around him. Taking a step back, you looked up at him, seeing that his eyebrows were furrowed together and it looked like he was holding back tears.

  “Oh my god, are you okay? What are you doing here?” you sighed, relieved, heart still racing against your chest.

  “I couldn’t take it, Y/N. I was asleep and she came running into my room, o-out of nowhere. Screaming at me like a bloody banshee……I couldn’t take it. She just wouldn’t stop- everything I ever did………it hurt, but I was alright, I could deal with it. But then she started on you. I’ve got, erm, I’ve got pictures of you, pasted all over my walls. She- she called you a bloody mudblood. A fucking mudblood. I was j-just so angry. I lost it on her and I- I finally ran away. I did it. I didn’t know where else to go, I’m sorry, I’m so stupid- bloody stupid…”

  “Shhh shhh,” you whispered, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck and pull his head into your shoulder, which he happily obliged to. “I am so glad you came here, and I am so glad that you finally left that place.” You could feel him shaking now, crying a little.

  “God,” he said, his voice broken and muffled by your shoulder. “Why am I crying? I’m happy to be out, I am. Why can’t I- I stop crying?”

  “It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s just me, you can- you can cry,” you whispered. “I love you so much, and I swear it’ll be fine. You can stay here, we can share my room, we can visit James all the time- it’ll all be fine.”

  “Okay,” he paused to cough a little. “Okay.”

  He let out a shaky laugh before saying, “You know, I was in such a hurry to get out of there, I didn’t grab anything but my wand. I literally have no clothes or anything.”

  You laughed a little before responding, “I’ll go back to get all of your stuff tomorrow. I might also make a small stop to punch your mother in her ugly face, but…”

  He wrapped his arms tighter around you, kissing your neck as he buried his head in your shoulder again. “You would really do that?”

  “Punch your mother? Because, I mean, Sirius, after six years you know me well enough to know that I would totally…”

  “I mean go back there. To that awful place where they would hate you, just to get some stuff of mine?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  He pulled away, staring at you with slightly wide eyes and his mouth hanging open, his eyes quickly filling with love and a smirk growing on his face.

  “God, do you have any idea how much I love you?” he asked seriously. You grinned at him right before he crashed his lips against yours. “You are actually the greatest thing that has ever happened to me in my entire life.”

  “You’re in the top ten,” you said with a crooked smile.

  He raised his eyebrows as if challenging you. “I guess that means that over the next two and a half months that you’re stuck with me, I’m just gonna have to make my way to number one.”

  “You really think you can beat junk food?”

  He wiggled his eyebrows at you with a dorky smile before replying, “Trust me, I think this is a challenge I can win.”

  You laughed. “Someone’s feeling pretty ambitious.”

  “Well, if I can get you to somehow like my sorry ass, I can do just about anything.”

  “Fair enough.” You grinned at him before finally saying meaningfully, “I hope you know that you really are the most important thing in my life, Sirius.”

  “I love you so much.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “Thank you, really, for letting me stay.”

  “Thank you for coming home.”

COVERED - Luke Imagine (Part Three)

He was bare, you were covered. One was broken beyond repair, and the other was desperate for someone to fix.

Masterpost, Part One, Part Two

Originally posted by unconditionalloveandunicornspawn

“Hey, technically speaking, we’re still dating. I mean, we never broke up. We kind of maintained a long distance relationship before you left didn’t we.” He chuckled. “Yeah, I guess we did.”

It was well after 4 am, closing in on five, and you couldn’t sleep, your insomnia catching up to you. The curtains were drawn, so only a silver of moonlight was able to infiltrate the otherwise completely dark room. Your eyes darted around the room. You had fallen asleep a while ago, at about two in the morning, however you were startled awake with one of those falling dreams everybody had. It’s been about twenty minutes, and you couldn’t fall asleep so far. Calum was snoring very softly, sounding slightly like a whining dog, a thing he’s been doing since about the age of six. You slowly crept out of the bed, throwing on his hoodie that you found on the chair, because he surely wouldn’t mind, and going out to the infamous balcony that was merely a few feet away. Your phone lit up with the time as you accidentally clicked the off button, and you shuffled awkwardly out into the cool night air in the hotel slippers. You sighed, the small mist exiting your mouth and dismissing into nothing. Leaning over the edge of the balcony, you let yourself get lost in the sounds of the water from the pool lightly moving, in small ripples and tiny waves as the soft blue lights crawled over your feet and fading out as it reached it’s limit. You closed your eyes, breathing in the fresh air that was provided by the plants near you, but was soon interrupted by another glass door opening somewhere to your left. Your eyes slowly opened as you turned your head towards the direction. His blonde hair reflected the moonlight off of it, creating a sort of angelic glow around him. His blue eyes were trained forward on the skyline as he stepped out, making sure to close the door behind him. A cigarette hung limply from his lips, his furrowed eyebrows trying to make sure it doesn’t fall. “Hey.” You smiled lightly, the corners of your mouth stretching slightly farther apart as he nearly dropped the cigarette, his hands fumbling to catch it. “Oh, I wasn’t aware that anybody else was out here. I - I’ll go back inside.” You turned around fully, facing Luke. “No, no, stay. If anything I should leave. This is you guys’ hotel room anyways.” He nodded half-heartedly, as if there was something heavy weighing on his mind. You slowly turned and made your way back towards the door that lead to Calum’s bedroom, when a warm hand suddenly trapped your shoulder. “Wait. Don’t go. Just, just stay. I don’t wanna, like, make you feel unwelcome or anything.” You smiled a full smile at him, something you find yourself doing less and less of nowadays. 

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*sigh* I have so many unfinished drawing projects, I can’t even draw properly on my tablet.. and I can’t even answer asks fast enough.. orz

So please, have these quick doodles of Clumsters son and my bby @korinichiiii ’s son Franster..

Based on what my bby said, Franster’s Sans never really wanted to take on his fathers business which is being a Sommelier (I think). Franster would always beat him up because he thinks that his sons dream is nothing but a joke which is to be a cook. So far, Frans favorite son is Papyrus because he’s the only one so far who’s taken his foot steps and he too, is harsh on his own brother.

And thus, me and my bby being rabid fan girls, we shipped the smol angsty sad bean with Clumsters Papyrus who 100% supports him in every way (sorry for the fontcest orz)

My bby has not drawn F! Sans yet so.. I took the privilege of drawing him based on a dream I had.. ( = v = )

And yes, that’s a random smol goopy gaster :}

Socialism represents in one sense a decisive break with the present. History has to be broken and remade – not because socialists arbitrarily prefer revolution to reform, being bloodthirsty beasts deaf to the voice of moderation, but because of the depths of the sickness that has to be cured. I say ‘history,’ but in fact Marx is reluctant to dignify everything that has happened so far with that title. For him, all we have known so far is 'prehistory’ – which is to say, one variation after another on human oppression and exploitation. The only truly historic act would be to break from this dreary narrative into history proper. As a socialist, you have to be prepared to spell out in some detail how this would be achieved, and what institutions it would involve. But if the new social order is to genuinely transformative, it follows that there is a strict limit on how much you can say about it right now. We can, after all, describe the future only in terms drawn from the past or present; and a future which broke radically from the present would have us straining at the limits of our language. As Marx himself comments in 'The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte,’ 'There [in the socialist future] the content goes beyond the form.’ Raymond Williams makes essentially the same point in 'Culture and Society 1780-1950,’ when he writes: 'We have to plan what can be planned, according to our common decision. But the emphasis of the idea of culture is right when it reminds us that a culture, essentially, is unplannable. We have to ensure the means of life, and the means of community. But what will then, by these means, be lived, we cannot know or say.’

One can put the point in another way. If all that has happened so far is 'prehistory,’ then it is rather more predictable than what Marx would regard as history proper. If we slice through part of history at any point and inspect a cross-section of it, we know before we have even come to look something of what we will find there. We will find, for example, that the great majority of men and women at this period are living lives of largely fruitless toil for the benefit of a ruling elite. We will find that the political state, whatever form it takes, is prepared to use violence from time to time to maintain this situation. We will find that quite a lot of the myth, culture, and thought of the period provides some kind of legitimization of this situation. We will also probably find some form of resistance to this injustice among those who are exploited.

Once these shackles on human flourishing have been removed, however, it is far harder to say what will happen. For men and women are then a lot more free to behave as they wish, within the confines of their responsibility for one another. If they are able to spend more of their time in what we now call leisure activities rather than hard at work, their behavior becomes even harder to predict. I say 'what we now call leisure’ because if we really did use the resources accumulated by capitalism to release large numbers of people from work, we would not call what they did instead 'leisure.’ This is because the idea of leisure depends on the existence of its opposite (labor), rather as you could not define warfare without some conception of peace.

Take, as an analogy, the behavior of people in prison. It is fairly easy to say what prisoners get up to throughout the day because their activities are strictly regulated. The warders can predict with some certainty where they will be at five o'clock on a Wednesday, and if they cannot do so they might find themselves up before the governor. Once convicts are released back into society, however, it is much harder to keep tabs on them, unless the tabs are of an electronic kind. They have moved, so to speak, from the 'prehistory’ of their incarceration to history proper, meaning that they are now at liberty to determine their own existence, rather than to have it determined for them by external forces. For Marx, socialism is the point where we begin collectively to determine our own destinies. It is democracy taken with full seriousness, rather than democracy as (for the most part) a political charade. And the fact that people are more free means that it will be harder to say what they will be doing at five o'clock on Wednesday.

—  Terry Eagleton
Confession: I thought Sasha will become a mindless Titan

During the Shiganshina Arc I was convinced that Sasha will somehow turn into a mindless Titan, and chapter after chapter, I was coming up with theories about how it will happen:

I know I wasn’t the only one who thought that if anyone will turn into a mindless Titan from the 104th squad, that it’ll be Sasha…Isayama has drawn Sasha to resemble a mindless Titan several times so far.

Now, I’m sure Isayama was just trolling us a little bit, putting crazy thoughts into our minds, and I don’t think Sasha, or anyone else from the 104th squad will turn into a mindless Titan…except Jean.

Get to know Rob’s emotions

I am a BIG fan of Inside Out.  (In case you haven’t noticed).  And I have been a fan of Gumball, but it wasn’t until lately I became a big fan of the show.  And among my favorites, I keep getting drawn to Rob.  It took me a while to figure out why, besides him being a tall slender noodle boy (why do I keep getting drawn to those types?).  Not only is Rob a mystery and what little we know about him is surprisingly complex, but his back story involving the void is just beyond fascinating.  How did he get there?  How long has he lived there?  How was he the only one so far to escape the void but lose everything in the process?

Then it hit me while watching clips from Inside Out.  One of the things he lost when escaping the void is his memories.  How does that work in the Inside Out world?  How did this affect his mind and his emotions?  And how do his emotions and mind work now after the void?

After a month or so… I finally came up with an idea.  And I’d like to share it with you, if you don’t mind.

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Only time will tell

This is the longest fic I’ve written so far! It’s over 8 thousand words long. 

Agatha goes to the future and finds something rather unexpected…


I don’t know what to do.

It should be the easiest decision in the world. It shouldn’t be possible not to be able to choose between the Mage’s Heir and the vampire. Good and evil, black and white, hot and cold. It shouldn’t be possible for the same girl to be drawn to both of them.

I love Simon, I really do. He’s one of the few friends I have here – one of two, to be exact – and I care about him, so much. I want to see him safe and happy, I want to see him with a home to go to and a family to love. I just can’t imagine myself in that family. Maybe I don’t love him the way everyone thinks I should.

And then, there’s Baz. The opposite of Simon in every way. Cold, hard, all sharp edges where Simon is soft. He walks around with a permanent sneer, his gaze steely, his posture impeccable, everything in its perfect place, while there is no pattern or structure to Simon. And I believe Simon, when he says Baz is a vampire. He has the look for it, the hair, the jawline, the pale skin. Most of all, he has that air of danger.

Simon is supposed to keep us all safe, and there couldn’t be a more well-meaning person for the job. Simon would never hurt me. Baz, on the other hand, is unpredictable. Breaking my heart would be the least of his crimes. If there’s even enough of that left in me to be broken. I don’t even know if I mean anything to him at all.

I should choose Simon. Everyone wants me to choose Simon. Simon would want to make me happy. But the past few years have made me wonder if he can. I’m supposed to choose him. Maybe that’s why I’m drawn to Baz, because I’m not supposed to choose him, because he’s so different to Simon.

So I don’t know what to do, but I know that I can’t go on like this, staying with Simon because it’s the easy option, the path of least resistance. I want to make a real choice. I want to be sure, and there’s only one way to know how it will turn out.

I’m probably not even powerful enough to cast the spell. I don’t know if I have enough magic in me. I’d be happy to use it all up on this spell and end up Normal. Then I’d leave Watford and go back to my real friends, to the life that actually feels like mine, and I wouldn’t have to make this choice at all. I close my eyes, pick up my wand, and reach for my magic.

Only time will tell.

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Old doodles from last year that I forgot to post…

In other news, Normal service has been resumed.  I have a two-week break from hell school. I can finally draw some sinful and problematic crap and answer asks with quality replies.


My beautiful Moon Deck finally arrived! 😄 it’s so much more breathtaking than I imagined 😍🌙 the deck is not what I expected it to be at all, but it’s so much more and even better than I thought! I’ve only drawn 3 cards for three seperate one card readings so far without any cleansing or rituals done before first use, and they were just… perfect. I simply asked for something random for my life the first two times, and something for my mom on the third. I could go on and on about the deck and I haven’t even spent that much time with it yet… but now I have all the time in the world 💖🌒🌕🌘🔮

Piss off punny bones!
  • Piss off punny bones!
  • velocesmells​
  • Toby Fox - Undertale.

There can be only ONE!

I’m still trying to work on a decent voice for Flowey, but so far it’s a work in process.

Flowey, Frisk, Sans, and Undertale belong to Toby Fox. - (@)
Comic drawn by @velocesmells

I own nothing except the use of my voice!

laetusastrum  asked:

I'm sorry that happened to you. I certainly hope your day gets better. I've been followed by those blogs too but never because of race. I imagine that's probably one of the most awful feelings to be judged and stereotyped in such a way. It's disrespectful and the creators of those blogs need a brick in the face. I hope your job goes well and you have a wonderful experience. 😌🌼🌸💕

Aw thank you for this lovely message! <3 It wasn’t because I’m Korean per se (thankfully), but because I mentioned that I’ve ‘only drawn white and asi*n ethnicities so far’ in the caption. You know how if a post has a specific word in it, it’ll show up in the tags search for that word regardless of whether you tagged it as such? I think that’s what happened with all these blogs finding my art;; But of course it really is horrible to see these blogs full of demeaning images show up in my notifications, it’s quite painful having to hover over their urls to flag/block them :’) ….. Oh well, there are all sorts of weird people in the world wasting their time on the most meaningless things. Shame on them.

Thank you again, and I hope so too! I’m ready - for whatever comes….!!


Special thanks to @artaholihic for the idea.

After the hours of late night passion had drawn to a close and Mike lay wearily in his bed, his eyes drifted to the starry sky just outside his window. Each star twinkled silently, so far away yet close to his heart, reminding him of the ecstasy that still pulsed behind his vision.

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burketwerk  asked:

I gotta ask, how did you get into this?! Would you change anything different?

I originally found sugaring through tumblr. Was underage at the time so kinda just scrolled through those blogs with wide eyes (I know there’s an issue with young people glamorizing sex work and being drawn into it at the cost of forfeiting their innocence but that def happened w/me). It always seemed so unattainable and I thought all the girls doing it must be so much more *insert positive attribute* than me. Which isn’t the case at all! Just bc virtually anyone can get into it - there’s always going to be someone interested in funding your unique brand of human. I became legal, grew into myself more fully, and realized that I felt ready to try it out. As far as regrets go the only one I have is being dumb about my safety early on, am fortunate that nothing compromising happened as a result.

Thoughts on Rafe Rafe
I actually typed this up after I first finished the game. Though a lot of these thoughts seem to be the general consensus. 

(SPOILERS if you haven’t finished the game).

Rafe is one of the best “baddies” in the series by far. At the end when he was calling Nathan out on all of his achievements, on all of OUR achievements from the other games it felt so real and personal. He’s the only one who has ever come close to killing Nate, and not with crazy magic or freaky monsters. Just pure, raw emotion and the uncontrollable need to remove the obstacle in his path (even at the cost of his own life) which was truly terrifying, but also one of the reasons I was so drawn into his character and the overall story.

The game made me question at times who the villain of the story actually was. Of course I can’t condone the actions of ANYONE putting the life of Nate and the gang at risk (because I love them) but stepping back, I think the main characters had more of a direct connection with the history of Libertalia. I see Sam as Avery (yes, the villain) Nathan as Tew and Rafe, representing the other pirates who founded Libertalia. So looking from Rafe’s perspective, he had the wealth and he put his trust into Sam who ultimately betrayed him. Nathan tried to dissuade Sam who was blinded by the treasure. Luckily this time they made it out alive but overall, it felt like history was repeating itself, not just in the way of getting treasure, but the betrayal too. Even Nadine left him in the end and I think that’s what finally unhinged him.

Rafe lost it at the end, which was totally justifiable since everyone he had trusted had thrown it back in his face. In the beginning he was playing things fair and square (which is easy when you’re loaded XD). He got Sam out of Prison and he was going to buy the cross (not steal it) and even when Nate (who we found out he had a complex against) got in his way, he offered more than once to let him bow out and not just kill him on the spot. In the end he went crazy Rafe out of apparent jealousy but really I think Rafe respected Nathan a lot. Even without Rafe’s wealth, Nathan had achieved so much. Plus he had friends and family he could depend on. It was just the actions of the other parties involved (mostly Sam) that made the stakes higher which turned his admiration into uncontrollable envy, to the point of murder.

I wish they had explored his character more. I was shocked by what he came out with at the end, though it made sense. I was secretly hoping that he would turn good after Shoreline dumped him and for old times sakes, he’d be accepted to join team Drake and Nadine would become the main villain. It would have been kind of cool to do that as in contrast with the history of the place, it would have been like the pirates finally succeeded. And with it being the last game, it would have been nice for them to FINALLY get the treasure, like all of it haa. Plus I think Nadine just disappearing was a bit of a waste though I understand it needed to happen to set him off. But I still loved the ending so I’m satisfied with crazy Rafe too haha 

I loved pretty much every character in the game and no one died (yay) except Rafe, which was a shame. It’s so painful to watch him die at the end Q^Q 

(and just FYI, I use the word “Villain” very loosely. Every characters actions are justifiable to them in some way. They all see themselves as doing the right thing)  

Where We Belong (1/6)

au. It’s like they can’t help it, they are drawn to each other like moths to the flame andshe knows that she’ll only get burned if she doesn’t stay away but she can'tfind it in herself to care. captain wench.

part one. part two. part three. part four. part five.

rated m

(Look who’s back for another (‘short’) multi-chapter story!

Happy [very belated] Valentine’s Day, emma-saviour-swan this is for you, I hope you’re gonna like it! And of course everyone else too!)

part one.

Captain Killian Jones - better known as Captain Hook - has had a great evening so far. He has won every game of dice - aye, the dice are loaded but he’s a pirate, he doesn’t care, it’s the way he does things - deviously (with ruses and tricks and perfidies - he’s no honest man, not anymore) - and he holds a pretty brunette in his left arm - nothing more than a girl for one night, he will never see her face again (not that he wants to, he never does, not since… her - he won’t even remember it given the amount of liquor he’s been [and still is] drinking but he really doesn’t care) the only thing that matters is that he won’t go to sleep this night unsatisfied, that lass would do just fine.

To his right sits another girl, a dirty blond who currently flirts with his shipmate but given the looks she gives him she definitely wouldn’t mind spending the night in his cabin too - and if his mate protested he would just stay right in this town or Hook would let him walk the plank.

This night oughts to end in a way he will most certainly enjoy - and it is still young.

The brunette next to him shoots him a flirtatious look, asking him how he does it, how he keeps winning and he leans over to her, telling her that she must be his lucky charm and she smiles, batting her eyelashes at him and she’s about to answer him, the first words already leaving her mouth but there are footsteps approaching their table and Hook looks up.

Just like that all of his thoughts about the two lasses are gone, his mind goes blank and he licks his lips, taking in the sight in front of him.

“What are you boys playing?”

Keep reading


The action had been finished before James had really realized he was doing it. A gentle brush of a lock of hair behind one of Roland’s pointed ears. The Botanist smiled sheepishly, color rising into his cheeks- only the creature had been so deeply into concentration and James had been so drawn to the look of concentration on his face.

“I- I’m sorry. That must have been far too forward…”

Yesterday I dreamt about you. I hardly remember the details, just that we kept on merging into one another, I was you, you were me. Finally you somehow caught fire; I remembered that fire can be smothered with cloth, took an old coat and beat you with it. But then the metamorphoses resumed and went so far that you were no longer even there; instead I was the one on fire and I was also the one who was beating the fire with the coat. The beating didn’t help, however, and only confirmed my old fear that things like that can’t hurt a fire. Meanwhile the firemen had arrived and you were somehow saved after all. But you were different than before, ghostlike, drawn against the dark with chalk, and you fell lifeless into my arms, or perhaps you merely fainted with joy at being saved. But here the transmutability came into play: maybe I was the one falling into someone’s arms.
—  Franz Kafka to Milena Jesenska, September 1920.