dunno if i'm happy with it

anonymous asked:

Julia, my dearest love, would you please tell me a story? Any story at all.

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Lilac breeze

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A/N: Hello! Dunno what this is, but I’m a bit fascinated with November where I live, so I came up with this and *shrugs*. Happy to tell you a story anytime you like friend <3

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Some snippet of a CS adventure, at some undefined point in an undefined future.

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“Do you think we’re cursed?”

It mustn’t rain much in this realm, Emma surmises. The trees seem a different green for it, their leaves more silver and sun-sorry than at home. And even though there is currently rain dropping from tree top, to tree top, to their heads, a tiny crescendo of noise, the ground is hardly wet. There are few puddles upon the bark-littered path, no great squelch and slip of earth, low lying flowers wilting a little. The rain is new here, the plants are still taking as much of it as they can get before it sinks out of reach.

All it really does is change the colour of the trees they go past, purple bodies turning bold shades of orange and green with each ripple of water that trickles to their roots. (Almost as though the rain is trying to hide the colour from them.)

“What makes you ask that, Swan?”

Emma pulls her slipping hood back over her head, grumbling as the rain means it both slips and sticks from her head and she contemplates leaving it off altogether.

“I just feel like we’ve been in this situation far too many times before. You, me, some sort of forest-”

Emma’s words are cut off by a sharp noise above them, a haunting cackle that jars every thought in her head. Killian stops his feet, glancing up into the canopy above them for the source of the noise. The ground beneath Emma’s footsteps snap, the bark that is stripping from the trees around them mostly terracotta in tone, but she only stops walking once she’s shoulder-to-shoulder with Killian and his great leather coat again. 

He is still listening to the air as the mysterious cackling noise fades once more.

“Danger,” Emma finishes pointedly, head tilting in the direction of the laughter.

Keep reading

You’ll never see that ending coming.

like, i get the desire that people have to want things like scars & stretchmarks & imperfections to be beautified and aestheticized in the same way that features which conform do. i get the need to want to see yourself romanticized in that way, to want to switch the language and the way people visualize imperfections.

but like, sometimes i really don’t understand the point of doing all that. because these things just exist at the end of the day, & i just want them to exist without adding or negating my value as a human being. i don’t even want 80000 aesthetic pictures of my acne scars or armpit hair, i just want them to exist and for people to treat me like a human being, and not like some kind of eldritch horror OR as some kind of epic symbol against beauty standards. i just wanna exist and for these things to just be treated as what they are–a consequence of living a life and nothing else. 

and i think it’s deeply misguided sometimes to act as if the only way to counter negative shit from some of the narrow beauty standards that exist is to run in the total opposite direction, rather than learning to come to terms with the fact that yeah, some things aren’t pretty, but that doesn’t mean they’re ugly, that just means that they are and they exist and don’t have an inherent value, and more importantly, don’t have any sort of bearing on your own worth as a person either.

I had to get this out of my system after the trailer of S03 <3

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I want it all

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A/N: a little baby fic. If you catch my drift.

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It’s a conversation that’s a while in the making.

Only partly because of Emma’s own reluctance to broach the subject.

They’ve come a long way, the pair of them, truths and fears and uneasy declarations slip from lips nowadays far more easily than they ever did before. But that’s not entirely the point. The point is that it’s still a difficult conversation, the point is that there are still some things she’s afraid of. Hard things are still hard with or without courage. Hard things still form a misshapen lump in her throat – with or without his encouraging hand in hers, with or without the cursory kisses to her temple.

With or without that thick feeling in her heart when she thinks about the two of them as some sort of perpetual thing.

It’s just a different kind of hard.

(She loves him too much for it to be anything but.)

Keep reading

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Sam Winchester Graphic Challenge | semirahrose vs. hallowedbecastiel 
           ↳ Prompt: Dualities | O r d e r  /  C h a o s 

hearing heated male & female voices yelling and also some stomping around in some dorm in my building giving me heart palpitations

i wish human excitement didn’t sound indistinguishable from rage/anger from a few rooms away lmao

Enters the hug bandwagon because there is never too much sheith hugs

C’mon, then deserve to be happy ;u;

PS: also feeding my Blade of Marmora suit kink, don’t mind me

Hope you guys enjoy~!

Results of last night’s stream, and one of several title pages for the DOFP PDF! These will include text later!

I dunno if I will post all of the finished textless pages here or not, but at least wanted to give an idea of how they’ll look!

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Ayy he so cute I can’t

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Q: Can we talk baby goats and how that completely blew up?  How everyone loves you holding baby goats in the show?

Travis Fimmel: Oh, did they really?  Oh, that’s funny.  I don’t know if I’ve held a goat.  I held a lamb one time, it was a lamb.  I dunno, I just walked past and I grabbed one.  I needed something to hold because the two girls sitting next to me weren’t very happy with me.  It got comforting that way.