i am willing to share though

A Steve/Bucky + BDSM Fic Rec

Do you have a weird fascination for Steve Rodgers covered in blood and bruises? Did that one highway fight scene in TWS turn you on a little too much? Do you find your mind wandering when you see Steve and Bucky throw punches at each other? Does the cliche-ness and predictability of 50 Shades put you to sleep? Well luckily for you, below the cut are a few of the best BDSM Steve/Bucky stories out there. Take a seat (or better yet, lie down), grab a snack, and strap in folks.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I hear the term "weights" often in heathen circles. I know little more than that they are land-spirits. I would like to learn more about them and how they were honored and their place in old nordic practices. I thought you might be willing to share some of what you know, or some resources you recommend I explore? If it's not a hassle.

Sæll (eða sæl) vinur,
(Hello friend,)

No question is ever a hassle, my friend. I am more than happy to share my knowledge regarding vættir (nature spirits). Not all vættir are land sprits, though, for those are often referred to as landvættir. Still, vættir of the land seem to be the most common and most often interacted with, so I will focus our discussion on them specifically. To be honest, they are a particularly favorite subject of mine! I wrote a lot, so I am structuring this answer as an essay, which I hope you do not mind. It should help to organize the content!


On Landvættir: An Exploration of Primary Source Examples and Suggestions for Further Reading.

It is not surprising that we know fairly little about them, because they are quite elusive in our surviving texts. This is mainly because they are not always referred to directly being ‘landvættir’, but rather are referred to indirectly. The landvættir, from what I know of them, do not even appear in our eddic sources, but perhaps indirectly and vaguely, if they do. I also do suppose some people align the landvættir with the álfar (elves), which is reasonable. If this is done, they do appear in eddic material, in a way. Yet, even so, they still remain quite vague even in those sources. In the end, references to the landvættir seem to mostly be hidden gems scattered throughout other materials, such as Landnámabók (Book of Settlements) and the Íslendingasögur (Sagas of the Icelanders).

What are ‘Vættir’?

It is good to begin with solid footing, so let’s begin with a bit of an introduction to what a vættr (weight, or nature sprint) is:

“There were various kinds of nature spirits that the Icelanders (and other Scandinavians) believed in, and sometimes gave sacrifices to. There are early references to elves (álfar) in mainland Scandinavia. Like their modern-day equivalents, the “hidden people” (and expression used in both Norway and Iceland), these would have been of human size. Even close to nature were the guardian spirits of the land, or landvættir which inhabited the landscape. The welfare of the inhabitants of the country depended on their welfare and support, as can be seen in Egil’s Saga, ch. 58, when Egil raises a scorn-pole (níð) facing the guardian spirits of Norway. According to Ulfljot’s Law, people approaching Iceland by sea had to remove the dragon-heads from the prows of their ships to avoid frightening the guardian spirits.”(1.)

From that, we can gather a few things: that there are many more types of vættir than just those who inhabit the land (although those will be the ones I mostly focus on in this discussion), that there is a long, evolving tradition surrounding them that lasts even into current times, and that they held considerable influence over the lands they inhabited, and even over the people who lived in those lands.

The Landvættir Today (Iceland):

Speaking of modern-day representations, the landvættir live on in Iceland’s coat of arms (a dragon, a bird, a bull, and a mountain giant):

Their story is told in Snorri Sturluson’s Heimskringla, or more precisely in The Saga of Olaf Tryggvason contained therein:

“King Haraldr (as in Bluetooth, the son of Gorm) told a man skilled in magic to go in changed shape to Iceland and  find out what he could tell the king. He went in the form of a whale. And when he came to the land, he went westwards round the north of the country. He saw that all the mountains and hills were full of land-spirits (landvættir), some large and some small. And when he came opposite Vápnafjǫrðr, then he went into the fjord and was going to go ashore. Then there went down along the valley a great dragon, and with it many snakes, toads and vipers, and spat poison on him. And he swam away and westwards along the coast, right up to Eyjafjǫrðr. He went in along that fjord. There a bird went against him, so large that its wings reached out to the mountains on both sides, and a multitude of other birds both large and small. He went away from there and westwards round the coast and so south to Breiðifjǫrðr and made to go into that fjord. There a huge bull went against him and waded out into the sea and began to bellow horribly. A multitude of land-spirits came with it. He went away from there and southwards round Reykjanes and tried to go up onto Víkarsskeið. There a mountain giant came against him with an iron staff in his hand, and his head rose higher than the mountains, and many other giants with him. From there he went eastwards along the whole length of the coast.”(2.)

Thus, these landvættir have a long history, stetting far back into at least the medieval period. From this example, we can tell that they were very powerful. Not only that, though, but that the land was “full of landvættir.” Yet, this example shows their menacing power to outsiders, but what about those living among them? For this, we shall turn to the Landnámabók.

Examples from Landnámabók:

Iceland seems to have provided us with the unique opportunity of gaining some minor insights into how native settlers treated the landvættir. Below are three examples of three different settlers interacting with these spirits:

Bjorn Gnupsson (Hafr-Bjorn):

“One night Bjorn dreamed that a cliff-giant came and offered him partnership, and that he accepted the offer. Afterwards a strange billy-goat came to join his herd of goats, and his livestock began to multiply so fast that soon he was a wealthy man. After that he was called Hafr-Bjorn (Goat-Bjorn). People with second sight could see that all the guardian spirits of the land accompanied him when he attended the Althing, and Thorstein and Thord (his brothers) when they went out fishing.”(3.)

In this example, Hafr-Bjorn befriends a landvættr that is referred to as a cliff-giant, or, in some other versions I believe, as a cliff or rock-dweller. He was actually offered this friendship from the landvættr itself in a dream, which demonstrates a possible method for communication with a landvættr. Furthermore, this example reveals the benefits to such a relationship, which was usually prosperity in land-related activities, such as the raising of livestock and fishing. Hafr-Bjorn and his brothers must have treated these spirits with great respect to have earned their friendship, and the benefits of such relations are clearly worthwhile. Also, this example shows us that seeing the landvættir required a special skill, or “second sight,” so not everyone could nor can see these spirits.

Olvir Eysteinsson:

“Olvir Eysteinsson took possession of land east of Grims River where no one had dared to settle for fear of land-spirits, since Hjorleif was killed there.” (4.)

Hjorleif was a blot-brother of Ingolf’s, the alleged first settler of Iceland.(5.) He was killed by a another man’s (Dufthak) slaves while looking for a bear in the woods.(6.) Yet, it was also mentioned earlier that he “would never sacrifice to the gods.”(7.) Regardless, his death laid a bad omen across that land, which is felt even when, many years later, a settler named Olvir comes along (as told above). This example, although short, demonstrates even the native fear of the power that the landvættir held, and that if their land was disrespected, it would likely not result in peaceful times for the settlers living there.

Thorstein Red-Nose (son of Hrolf Red-Beard):

“Thorstein Red-Nose was a great sacrificer. He used to make sacrifices to the waterfall and all the left-overs had to be thrown into it. He could see clearly into the future. Thorstein had all his sheep counted and they numbered 2400; after that they all jumped over the wall of the fold. Thorstein had so many sheep because each autumn he could see which of the sheep were doomed to die, and he had those slaughtered. That’s why he always had so many. The last autumn of his life, he said at the sheep-fold, ‘Now you can slaughter any of the sheep you life. Either I’m doomed to die or the sheep are doomed, or all of us are.’ The night he died, all the sheep got swept into the waterfall by a gale.”(8.)

This example is fascinating, because we kind of must piece things together to truly get the depth behind it. Thorstein was sacrificing the a landvættr that lived in a waterfall. It seems that this landvættr granted him this ability of foresight to enhance his skill in maintaining his sheep. I find this to be the case because, at the end of this example, the sheep are ‘returned’ to the waterfall once Thorstein passes away, therefore connecting the sheep to the waterfall through Thorstein. Once he was gone, the connection was broken and the landvættr took what was rightfully its.

All of these examples serve to demonstrate the various aspects of the landvættir that you asked about. They were honored much like the gods themselves were, it seems, although suitable information to ‘prove’ this is still to be desired. They either came to you in a dream, like one did with Hafr-Bjorn, or they would be won over through generous sacrifice, as was seen with Thorstein. They were respected and given appreciation to keep them in good spirits. After all, when angered or ignored, they could cause fear, as seen with the case of Olvir, or even destructive and threatening, as seen in the Saga of Olaf Tryggvason.

Examples from Icelandic Sagas and Tales:

If Landnámabók was not quite satisfying enough, there are still a few examples to be explored from Egil’s Saga and The Tale of Thorvald the Far-Travelled. For those reading this that are already well-read, it may seem odd for me to be leaving out Bard’s Saga. That example deals with vættir-related subject matter intensively, and I would rather recommend that as a full reading than except it as an example on this post, so I will return to Bard momentarily.

Egil’s Saga, chapter 58:

“He (Egil) took a hazel pole in his hand and went to the edge of a rock facing inland. Then he took a horse’s head and put it on the end of the pole.

Afterwards he made an invocation, saying, ‘Here I set up this scorn-pole (nið) and turn its scorn upon King Eirik and Queen Gunnhild’ - then turned the horse’s head to face land - ‘and I turn its scorn upon the nature spirits (vættir) that inhabit this land, sending them all astray so that none of them shall find its resting-place by chance or design until they have driven King Eirik and Gunnhild from this land.’

Then he drove the pole into a cleft in the rock and left it to stand there. He turned the head towards the land and carved the whole invocation in runes on the pole.”(9.)

In this example, we can see that people can actually ‘control’ the wrath of vættir, and they can even turn this wrath onto others, if they are skilled enough. Yet, in the case of Egil, he was wronged, and so he had right on his side (see footnote 9 for detail). Perhaps, then, vættir have a sense of justice even. Nonetheless, I suppose this is a sort of ritual, in which one would target their enemies with strong words, runes, and insulting imagery. Yet, it does hint that the vættir did play a social function as well. This was already indicated by the landvættir, who often protect the land and the people who dwell there, if they have a good relationship with them, of course. Thus, vættir can either protect people or attack them, depending on their relationship with the user and his or her skill.

Thorvald the Far-Travelled, chapter 3:

In this example, the ‘theme’ of a vættr is used very strategically by the author, so we must take caution in how we read this source. In the quote below, Thorvald talks with his father, Kodran, about converting to Christianity. Kodran responds (at first) by telling Thorvald that he has a ‘prophet’ who lives in some nearby stone, and that this prophet helps him in many ways. The author treats this prophet as a demon, although it seems that this figure is being built upon the tradition of the vættir.

“ ‘But I have another prophet of my own, who is very beneficial to me. He tells me many things which have not yet come to be. He takes care of my cattle, and reminds me what I should do and what I should avoid. That is why I have great faith in him and have worshipped him for a long time, but you are your prophet (a bishop named Fridrek) and your religion disparage him a great deal, and he dissuades me from making any agreements with you, and especially from taking your faith.’

‘Where does your prophet live?’ asked Thorvald.

‘He lives here, close by my farm,’ said Kodran, ‘in a large and imposing stone.’

Thorvald asked how long he had been living there.

Kodran said he had lived there for a long time.”(10.)

A few things should sound familiar by now. This is a landvættr, for he dwells within a stone. It also seems that we can conclude that landvættir are prophetic, because both here and with Thorstein Red-Nose in Landnámabók. The landvættir also tend to earthly things, such as livestock and farms, as we have seen with Hafr-Bjorn (goats), Thorstein Red-Nose (sheep), and now here with Kodran (cattle). The ‘prophet’ is also very old, which would not be surprising for a landvættr. Thus, it is not unreasonable to notice the connection here with landvættir, even though this tale never explicitly uses the term, which brings back a point made earlier that references to landvættir are like hidden gems scattered throughout our sources.

Recommendations for Further Reading:

It may be troublesome to randomly read sagas and tales with the hopes of stumbling upon one of these gems. Of course, I have already named a few that touch on the topic, but they are generally centered around other ideas and motives. If you want the short-cut method (other than just reading this post), I highly recommend you take a look into this source:

H.R. Ellis Davis, Myths and Symbols in Pagan Europe: Early Scandinavian and Celtic Religions(Syracuse University Press, 1989). 

This book would be the best way to learn about the material from a reliable place, and without scavenging the primary source material for information. Google has an eBook version that contains a preview, if you would like to check that out before purchasing. For the most direct information on landvættir, I recommend special attention be given to pages 102 through 133. In fact, I tried to make use of the examples discussed in her book as well, so that, if you choose to read it, things should be more familiar to you already. The whole book seems to be quite the gem, though, so you may be interested in that text for other purposes as well.

Regarding primary sources, you can investigate any of the sources I covered in this post by looking at the relevant footnotes. I will say, though, that I have mostly pulled what is relevant from the sources that you would have easy access to. For example, I would hate to recommend Egil’s Saga just for you to only have that portion of chapter 58 to read about regarding landvættir.

As I mentioned briefly before, I do highly recommend a complete reading of Bard’s Saga, although it may be difficult to acquire the text. I have done research on what English translations are available for all the Icelandic sagas and tales (you can see that information on this post), and, in this endeavor, I found that Bard’s Saga seems to only be reasonably accessible (in English) via this book: 

Ralph O’Connor, Icelandic Histories & Romances. (Tempus, 2004).

If you have trouble, don’t hesitate to let me know, because I would be more than happy to try to help you find a way to read that saga.

Conclusion:

So, in the end, what have we learned?

  • Vættir are nature spirits, and people often sacrificed to them. Many of these vættir were called landvættir, but only those who lived in features of the land, such as waterfalls or large stones.
  • Landvættir (at least) can be in the form of animals, so they do not always take a human form.
  • Vættir could be friendly, but they could also be spiteful when angered, ignored, or disrespected.
  • Some landvættir protected entire regions or countries, whereas others protected local farmsteads. Sometimes they did not protect for the sake of humanity, but for themselves, and so if you are not on friendly terms with them, they will likely cause you great trouble.
  • Many people gave offerings to the landvættir to build a stronger relationship with them and the land. These offerings were not always material, but could also be offerings of respect and recognition, because some landvættir became friendly with people without the need for a formal sacrifice. Sometimes they would come to people in dreams, but only if they wished to.
  • A landvættr could offer a friend many gifts, but mostly prosperity in regards to the raising of livestock, in farming, and even in advice. Another frequent gift they would offer would be the gift of prophecy or foresight.
  • The vættir could be ‘manipulated’ in such a way to incite trouble for a foe, although this seems to require careful skill, for the user would not wish to disrespect the vættir him- or herself, lest they wish to incur their wrath. Yet, this could also be due to good relations.
  • Not everyone could see vættir, for this required a special ability referred to as “second-sight.”
  • Despite not holding a prominent place in Eddic material, other sources suggest that the vættir placed a very central and regional role within the confines of Norse heathenism, and even beyond. Many of the practices told above would ahem been a part of daily life, and can best be summed up as a deep respect, and sometimes fear, of the power of nature.
  • The tradition surrounding the vættir has lived on for quite a long time, existing likely even before Iceland was settled. The vættir still live on today in folklore and in national images such as Iceland’s coat of arms.

Seems like we have learned quite a bit! Of course, this is perhaps only just the surface of the complexity that surrounds the vættir, but it is still quite rich and rewarding. Besides, I have only discussed examples from Iceland. Nonetheless, I do hope that you and others benefit from this post, despite its possibly daunting length. Feel free to reach out to me in the future if the need arises. I am always happy to discuss these things!

Með vinsemd og virðingu,
(With friendliness and respect,)
Fjörn


FOOTNOTES:

1. Viðar Hreinsson, Reference Section: Glossary, in The Complete Sagas of Icelanders: Including 49 Tales, Vol. V, edited by Viðar Hreinsson, Robert Cook, Terry Gunnell, Keneva Kunz, and Bernard Scudder, (Reykjavík: Leifur Eiríksson Publishing, 1997), 413.

Fig.1. Coat of Arms of Iceland, Wikimedia Commons.

2. Snorri Struluson, The Saga of Olaf Tryggvason, in Heimskringla, Vol. I, translated by Alison Finlay and Anthony Faulkes. (Viking Society for Northern Research: University College London, 2016), 168. (Chapter 33)

3. Hermann Pálsson and Paul Edwards trans., The Book of Settlements: Landnámabók. (repr., 1972; Manitoba: University of Manitoba Press, 2012), 125. (Chapter 329, Sturlubók)

4. Ibid., 126. (Chapter 330, Sturlubók)

5. Ari Thorgilsson, The Book of the Icelanders: Íslendingabók, translated by Siân Grønlie. (Viking Society for Northern Research: University College London, 2006), 4.

“It is said with accuracy that a Norwegian called Ingólfr travelled from there [Norway] to Iceland for the first time when Haraldr the Fine-Haired was sixteen years old, and a second time a few years later; he settled in the south in Reykjarvík.”

6. Pálsson trans., The Book of Settlements, 20. (Chapter 8, Sturlubók)

7. Ibid., 19. (Chapter 7, Sturlubók)

8. Ibid., 134. (Chapter 329, Sturlubók)

9. Bernard Scudder trans., Egil’s Saga, in The Complete Sagas of Icelanders: Including 49 Tales, Vol. I, edited by Viðar Hreinsson, Robert Cook, Terry Gunnell, Keneva Kunz, and Bernard Scudder, (Reykjavík: Leifur Eiríksson Publishing, 1997), 114. (Chapter 58) I recommend referring to the Penguin edition (page 119), due to the expense of the version I have used in writing this post.

I actually stubbled upon another bit of information, a poem this time, contained earlier in this chapter (Verse 29, page 110. Penguin: page 114). This actually explains why Egil did not incur the wrath of the landvættir, because he had right on his side. Think of it as a treat for actually reading these footnotes:

“Land spirit, the law-breaker        – (‘land spirit’ appears here as ‘landalfr’).
has forced me to travel 
far and wide; his bride deceives
the man who slew his brothers.
Grim-tempered Gunnhild must pay
for driving me from this land.
In my youth, I was quick to conquer
hesitation and avenge treachery.”

10. John Porter trans., The Tale of Thorvald the Far-Travelled, in The Complete Sagas of Icelanders: Including 49 Tales, vol. V, edited by Viðar Hreinsson, Robert Cook, Terry Gunnell, Keneva Kunz, and Bernard Scudder, (Reykjavík: Leifur Eiríksson Publishing, 1997), 360. (Chapter 3)

The Raven Queen and Sarenrae

Vax doesn’t remember this. He only really remembers the greeting his queen gave him when he first appeared and the words that were spoken from beyond the veil.

He doesn’t remember a bright light shining down upon him and his Queen as another entered the space.

“Oh, it appears I’m not late at all,” Sarenrae says, glancing at the scene beyond. She lifts her hand and lowers it as a small figure bursts into being inside the alter and drops slowly to the ground. She withdraws her hand as Pike’s wings disperse. 

“Glad I didn’t miss anything. She got the message and you would have thought Tiamat herself had been released, the way she was talking.” 

 “It’s pleasant to see you, Sarenrae,” the Raven Queen says, her attention still on the scene. “I hope this arrangement is alright. He is mine, after all.”

 “Don’t worry, I understand. I’m just here in order to get things going. They will likely be speaking to you once the offers are made. I’ll step out when that happens.”

 “It is very much appreciated. We come together so often now this almost feels appropriate.” She tilts her head curiously, watching the cleric prepare for the ritual. “Funny how such things happen.”

 “Indeed. How have they been? With Pike away, I don’t keep much of an eye.” 

“I’m surprised. I thought they fell under your favor long ago.” 

 “They do, but I know you like to keep close watch on your favorites, and I rather like it when you fill me in on their goings on.” There is a long silence as both of their gazes fall upon Vax, who stands before them, his soul shining brightly, though hazy due to the current circumstance. 

 “I am glad we were brought together, as much as our ideals collide,” Sarenrae says, folding her arms. 

 “I beg to differ. We do not oppose on another. We just look after different aspects of a mortal’s life. It is not as if you combat death directly like my enemies.” 

 “No, I suppose I don’t. It’s nice, though, to have some company. Kord and the others get a bit touchy when I’m around. Though growing, my following, much like yours, depends on the circumstances that plague the world. I am not as strong as I once was, so it is nice to know that at least someone else understands me and is willing to share her energies.” 

 The Raven Queen doesn’t speak, but offers Sarenrae her hand. “It is about to begin. Shall we?”

We had a good run, even I have to admit.

It was four years ago this month that I started using this blog to share my collection of Patrick Stump. Now, 25,660+ posts on this blog and 15,260+ fobomatic posts later, I think it’s time to officially turn in my Certified Fall Out Boy Blogger card. I have loved my 8+ years in this fandom. I survived the hiatus, witnessed three marriages and the birth of four children, made great friends, and obliterated three hard drives with the more than 80,000 photo and video and audio files I’ve amassed of this band, which is much more than just a band to me. I still love these four dorks and their music. I’m sure I always will.

Months ago I promised that if I didn’t return I’d leave you with a gift. Today I’m making good on that promise. So here it is: weighing in at just under 10GB, here are the files I haven’t shared (more or less). I did my best to keep a record of this band and since these didn’t make their way onto my blog, I wanted to put them somewhere accessible to everyone. If there was a practical (free) way to share the 20 GB I have already posted to my blogs, I would include that as well, but unfortunately you will just have to make use of my tags and hope for the best.

A couple things:

  • There is a .txt file of all the old tour dates in case anyone is wondering what show a photo is from.
  • If you check the .xif file and see a url in the title line, that where I found the photos.  
  • As you’ll see, the files are somewhat organized and I’ve done my best to keep track of dates or guess dates, though mistakes have been made.
  • There are a couple folders that I honestly can’t remember what I was doing when I made them.
  • Sharing this is a lot like letting someone poke around in your bedroom closet so please excuse the mess and shoot me an email if you find I’ve left something in there that might mortify me.

I am honored to have been followed by so many of you and it’s been a pleasure sharing this band’s history as best I could. I won’t be answering any more asks, sadly (though I would still put my ability to date a photo of Patrick against anyone—even Pete), but the blogs and their content will remain here, tumblr willing. 💋✌🏻

anonymous asked:

Hi there. I just realised that I'm meant to see a gynaecologist within the next year and I'm absolutely terrified and I want to cry. I've looked for articles on how to deal with a gyno appointment after csa/similar stuff but I want to know what advice and experience you and other people have. I'm really scared.

ive never been to a gynecologist, ever. im a minor and not ‘sexual active’ so my mother doesnt feel the need to have me see one yet (though shes talked about it) so i am in the same boat as you, ive had multiple break downs about this and im absolutely terrified as well. i found one article that said that you should state at the beginning of your appointment with your doctor that you have been sexual assaulted in the past and are very uncomfortable, and that they will take extra precautions to make sure you feel your best.

does anyone have any other advice or personal experiences they would be willing to share?
Attention!

Do you happen to want to commission me, but can’t afford it? 

Do you also happen to be decent at line art and coloring or have friends who are and don’t mind lining and coloring for free? 

Well, I have just the thing for you.

THIS IS AS CHEAP AS MY COMMISSIONS GET, FOLKS.

I am now releasing ROUGH SKETCHES as an option for commissions, making these officially the cheapest things I offer. 

With my rough sketches, you can turn them into line art yourself, or have a friend do it for you. My sketches are typically detailed enough to know where everything goes, so line art shouldn’t be too hard to produce from my sketches. 

THIS IS THE CHEAPEST POSSIBLE WAY FOR YOU TO GET CUSTOMIZED ART FROM ME. It doesn’t get cheaper than this. 

Alright, so BUST is $3 PER CHARACTER

½-¾ BODY is $5 PER CHARACTER

FULL BODY is $8 PER CHARACTER

That’s it. The most affordable thing I offer for commissions. 

Also, I don’t have any background rough sketches readily available at the moment, but I am willing to do them and the price will be negotiable based on what you are looking for. 

Thanks for reading! 

Also, I shouldn’t have to say this, but I’m going to. I still require credit because even though I won’t be lining or coloring, it’s still my art. We just share it at this point. *finger guns into the shadows*

DESPAIR FOR YOUR MEMORIES IS LOOKING FOR TEAM MEMBERS!

Title up to change, but tl;dr I’m writing a dating sim where you play as Junko Enoshima attempting to bring the 78th class to despair.

It’s a monstrously big project and even though I already have a route done and am working on the next ones, I need some extra help to bring it to fruition. I am willing to pay people for their work, either an upfront fee or a cut of potential earnings once it’s done, but keep in mind that I really don’t have much. I’m doing a massive share of the work and I’m not getting paid. What’s needed:

  • Programmer - I’ve been doing my best to build the game in Ren’Py, but unfortunately I’m over my head. I’m looking for someone that can implement some python into the game to ensure that the routes happen in the order they’re supposed to with a few extra twists. If you choose to keep the game’s programming in Ren’Py, I can continue doing basic programming, but if you have a platform you’re more comfortable in and I can’t figure it out, I’ll have to just send you raw scripts.
  • Secondary artist - I’d like to potentially attach a small fee to downloading the game once it’s finished considering the amount of labor involved, so for that reason I’m hoping to have it feature completely original art. I have an artist onboard already, but I’d like to lessen the load on him as there’s a lot to do. Specifically, I need someone to do backgrounds. So far there’s only two, but my main artist isn’t comfortable enough with them.
  • Character experts - Do you think you know more about a SDR2 character than anyone? Talk to me. I know many of the characters pretty well, but it’s always helpful to have an expert onboard to consult with as I write. This is not a paid position, but you will feature prominently in the game’s credits.
  • Anyone else? - If this project sounds like it’s up your alley but I haven’t listed something you can do, contact me anyway. Maybe we can work something out, I’d love to see what you can do.

Lastly, if you think this is a worthwhile project but don’t want to help, please please signal boost! The more eyes that see it the more likely it’ll be seen by someone that can help make this happen.

parent-teacher meetings

(Manga spoilers abound. Slight Mighty Parents, maybe.)

It soon became known to most of UA’s staff that on Wednesday mornings, at precisely ten o'clock, All Might would depart the school grounds and hurry off to what he vaguely called “an appointment.” Familiar with his medical needs and not wanting to intrude, no one bothered to investigate any further. As long as it didn’t interfere with the daily grind, no one wanted to interfere with the former hero’s personal business. After all he had been through, even the strictest teachers could agree that he deserved some space.

However, the appointments were nowhere near medical in nature. In fact, they were hardly proper appointments at all.

It was a weekly mission to ensure that one particular mother maintained her peace of mind.

Keep reading

I wrote a thiefshipping drabble at like 2 am over skype and I thought I would share it for Valentines Day. I love you all <3

It was another restless night for Marik. Though he felt better in Bakura’s arms, the apartment was still all too quiet. He stared into the darkness, mind going in circles. He swallowed hard and clenched his eyes shut, willing sleep to come.

Just then, Bakura nuzzled his nose close to Marik’s ear and hummed softly into it. A song Marik couldn’t quite place. Yet, it felt good. He inhaled and pressed backward against Bakura’s chest.

The semblance of a chuckle permeated Bakura’s sleepy breaths. “Don’t tell me you’ve been awake all this time,” he muttered.

“Have not,” Marik replied, sounding too wide awake to be convincing

Bakura ran his lips across Marik’s neck, up to the back of his ear. “Something on your mind?”

Marik tensed, trying to drown out his visions of the cold nights spent at the tomb. He didn’t care to think about it any more than he already was. “What were you humming just now?”

Bakura didn’t respond at first, his grip on Marik loosening. “Just a song.”

“Just a song, my ass,” Marik mumbled, his legs intertwining with Bakura’s under the sheets. He pulled Bakura’s arms taut around him once again. “You’re not into music like that. It’s too calming.”

Bakura sighed into Marik’s ear and then relaxed his head back against the pillow. “There are a lot of things I try not to remember about my childhood… in Kul Elna. But, it’s the one thing I can’t get out of my head sometimes. It’s kind of haunting, really.”

Marik’s mouth snapped shut. The feelings keeping him from sleep becoming less scary. He shrugged out of Bakura’s grasp and shifted onto his opposite side, facing Bakura, and they somehow managed to look into each others eyes in the darkness. He planted a soft, slow kiss on Bakura’s lips and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. “You’re safe with me.”

December 2

SMUT

I Am Not My Disorder by @avasmommy224
  Even though the reader has epilepsy, she can take care of herself (and Dean, too).

Better Than Coffee by @blushingsamgirl
  After struggling to win a bet, the reader discovers something new about Cas.

Sharing Can’t Be Wrong by @carryonmywaywardwriters
  Dean decides he is willing to share his girlfriend with his brother.

A Rough Ride by @ilostmyshoe-79
  I have a slight obsession with Dean’s thighs. This is pure porn to let me fantasize about that.

Finally by @ilostmyshoe-79
  Dean and the reader have known each other most of their lives, and finally, feelings are admitted.

Chemistry Like Apple and Cinnamon by @kas-not-cas
  Y/N lives with boys at the bunker, and it always smells like cinnamon near her room. Dean soon discovers the heart warming reason why and also discovers the chemistry between both him and Y/N that is undeniably perfect much like apples and cinnamon.

A Little Bit of Magic and Miles to Go by @kaz2y5-imagines
   Dean X Reader where the reader is the Impala.

Sexual Healing by @saxxxology
  Soulless!Sam gets injured on a hunt, and the reader goes to help him tend to his wounds, and other things.

2am by @supernatural-jackles
  Dean x Reader, smut

Classics by @takeitoffwinchester
  Sam isn’t a fan of Classic Rock. The reader takes it upon herself to show him just how great it can be.

Begging to be Kissed by @thing-you-do-with-that-thing
  Jensen x reader. :)

Truth or Dare by @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname
  College AU.  You come home from a long day of work and classes to find your friends drunk and playing Truth or Dare.  Things escalate.

FLUFF

Laughing Gas by @manawhaat
  Sam x Reader where the reader got her wisdom teeth out and she’s all hyped up on laughing gas and she tells Sam how hot he is and how she’s had a huge crush on him forever etc. and then the next day Sam tells her what she said and shes super embarrassed.

For the Love of Pie by @thing-you-do-with-that-thing
  Dean dares to eat the last piece of pie you had been saving for yourself.

Water, Sunlight, T.L.C. by @youaresunlight
  Cas is turned into a plant after an unfortunate skirmish with a coven. Hannah brings him to Dean and Sam to seek their help, and Dean has a few emotional discoveries while taking care of Cas.

ANGST

A Fragment of Total Perception by @sp-oops
  2014 Cas gets zapped to 2009, and shows up at the cabin where you’re staying with the Winchesters and present-Cas. Future Cas is everything you didn’t expect, and more than that, he’s holding something back. Something important. Something you’re absolutely desperate to know.

Stellar by youaresunlight (on AO3)
   All things considered, Dean Winchester’s life is pretty swell. He’s a flight engineer for NASA, living aboard the International Space Station, and also in his expedition crew is Dr. Castiel Novak, his best friend from college with whom he shared a longtime dream of working in space. Except, Cas isn’t his best friend anymore, and hasn’t been since their epic fallout eight years ago. Now it’s up to Dean to figure out what exactly went wrong and try to fix it, which would be a lot easier if Cas would actually talk to him, and a lot less complicated if Cas weren’t so damn attractive.

SERIES

Friends After All by @angelkurenai
 AU. Dean Winchester. Mechanic. Neighbour. Best friend. Single father. And fake boyfriend? You babysit his daughter. You’ve known him for years and you’ve been really close. Everything will be put to test though when your sister’s wedding approaches and he has the brilliant idea of pretending to be your boyfriend. Nobody would have ever thought of the result. Certainly not you.

Written on the Wrist by @angelkurenai
  Soulmate!AU.  Reader gets zapped into the Supernatural universe and is Dean’s soulmate.  Can he accept her, or is he too determined to protect her from harm to let himself love her?

Chocolate Cupcakes by @crowleysplaythings
  Sam hires the reader as his new nanny for his twins, Ava and Liam.

Singer’s Automotive by @ilostmyshoe-79
  Ever have a day, or week, where everything that can possibly go wrong does? Ever get rescued by someone you can’t resist?

Revenge of the Subtext by MittenWraith (on AO3)
   Things are finally settling back down to normal since Cas gave up his grace to cure Dean of the Mark. Well, as normal as their lives are allowed to get. Sam relentlessly finds new cases to work, one right after the other; but Dean thinks they need a break to let Cas have some purely human fun, for once. It’s true they had a difficult time readjusting to humanity at first, but Dean thinks Cas deserves to do more than ride around in the back seat and follow them on monster hunts. Then again, Dean’s a little bit scared to ask exactly what Cas would want, just in case it doesn’t include spending quite so much time with him. And with Sam (of course).  Sam’s been tracking a series of odd occurrences in Laramie, Wyoming for the last few weeks that looks just enough like a case to finally convince Dean they should go check it out. Whether they like it or not, the goddess responsible for the weirdness in Laramie takes an immediate interest in the three less-than-perfectly-happy hunters who’ve stumbled into her town.

The Story of You and Me by the_diggler (on AO3)
  Dean wakes up in bed next to a very human Castiel, and a journal in his own handwriting that tells him it’s two years in the future. The house looks a lot like Bobby’s, and Sam lives there too… He just can’t remember how they got from angels falling in the sky – to comfortable domesticity. While there is much in the journal Dean doesn’t remember, there is much of their story he’s always known. And as he settles into the routine of his new life and relationship with Castiel, it quickly becomes something he doesn’t know how to live without.

Misinformed

Description: Cas x reader. A healthy mix of angst and fluff. After a close shave, Castiel is left knowing nothing of Dean, Sam or the reader, instead of telling them he decides to deduce his relationship to them himself.
Words: 2,857
Warnings: None? Tell me if I’m wrong!
Author’s Note: I’m quite proud of this one, not going to lie, I normally struggle with Cas, but I don’t know, I just really loved this request!! I altered the it VERY slightly so that he got knocked out rather than a full coma, doesn’t effect the story, just meant I could move the story on quicker!

Request: I think it would be kinda funny (and maybe a lil angsty) if Cas was put in a coma after a hunt and lost nearly all of his memory. Instead of telling anyone he tries to figure out whos who and comes to the conclusion that he and the reader are married

A lot passes through your mind in your last moments. The thing with a suicide mission is, although you know the outcome, there is a small niggle in the back of your mind that holds onto hope. Hope that you might survive, just maybe, long enough to see your sacrifice pay off. And sacrifices? What were they any good for when the damn people you tried so hard to protect were as stubborn as you? Sam and Dean would get it eventually, they’d hate it, but they’d understand none the less, they’d have to kick your ass for it in another life.

As you lifted the blade, you could see there was no way you were going to get to the demons before they got to you, but that didn’t matter now. It wasn’t you that needed to walk out of here. You threw yourself towards them, lashing out with your blade as you went, time almost seemed to slow as you saw the demon’s sickly grin, lifting his own dagger on a trajectory that’d collide straight with your chest and you closed your eyes ready to go down to save them.

A searing light and high pitched whistle was suddenly all you could sense, and you wondered if this really was what it felt like to die. The light at the end of the tunnel as you got ready to find out if you were going up or down.

You took a deep breath… a breath? Surely that was…

The light dulled and you prised your eyelids open, still blurry from being squeezed shut, you glazed at the carnage surrounding you. Charred meatsuits lay flat on the ground, the last gentle tendrils of black smoke wafting away and flickering out. Your hand flew to your chest, feeling nothing but a small tear in the fabric of your shirt, which was seemingly free of all bloodstains that you should definitely have… That was when, out of the corner of your eye, you saw him.

Castiel lay face down on the concrete, trench coat splayed out around him and with a lump in your throat, you realised he wasn’t moving.

“C-Cas?” you stuttered, crawling towards him, ignoring how the hard floor grazed your knees. He couldn’t be… You balled your fist in the fabric of his shirt and pulled him over to face upwards, his head lolled to a side and you could see a small trickle of blood beginning to make it’s way from his nose. “No, no, no, no, no, you idiot, you’re not-”

You frantically searched for signs of entry wounds, anything that could give you a clue as to why he was unconscious but there was nothing…

“Y/N, what the hell-?” Dean choked out behind you, but you didn’t bother to turn around, instead desperately checking for a pulse with shaking hands.

“He’s not… He isn’t-?”

Dean rested a hand on your shoulder, gripping tightly enough that it hurt but you had a feeling the support was for himself as much as you.

“I-I’m sorry,” you gulped, a sob catching in your throat as you saw the angel’s eyes shoot open. “Cas?!” A wave of relief washed over you and you brushed a lock of stray hair out of his face, “you ass!”

He looked up at you in confusion, then glanced at each of the burned out meatsuits in turn.

“Don’t you dare do that again,” you swallowed hard and sat back to give him some air, “seriously… Cas, I can’t lose you like that.”

“I’m sorry?” he replied in a gruff voice as he made a move to get up a little before Dean stepped in and offered him a hand. Cas regarded it for a moment and after a few seconds, tentatively took it, being yanked to his feet harshly.

“What’d you do, man? That was…” Dean trailed off, throwing you a wide eyed look, before closing his eyes and shaking his head, “y'know what? Let’s just get out of here, back to the motel. Can you walk?”

“Y-yes,” Cas mumbled, taking a deep breath and looking around again.

“Great. We’ll talk about it over a beer,” Dean threw a look at you and ran a hand over his face before beginning his slow walk back to the car, you following up with a very quiet Cas just behind.

“Thank you, Cas,” you muttered, giving his hand a small squeeze, trying to convey all the meaning possible in the one tiny motion. He looked down at your hand thoughtfully, looking more bewildered even than usual and you pulled it away with a smile.

—–

Castiel quietly wrung his hands over and over themselves as he sat in the front seat of the car. He didn’t dare make eye contact or talk to anyone in the car, chosing to stay silent, he could see they were concerned for him, furrowed brows and nervous side glances were repeatedly being sent his way, but why?

The logical option would be to tell them as it is, tell these two people that he hadn’t the faintest idea who they were. There was no immediate threat and they appeared very much human to his angel eyes, he felt like he’d gone along with it for too long to suddenly ask who they were to him so for now, he’d play along.

From what he could tell, the driver’s name was Dean and by the sounds of it he had a brother named Sammy who they were going to meet. Dean seemed to be arrogant but not in an unfriendly way, Cas felt quite the bond to him, but the woman, Y/N? She was the enigma. When he’d awoken, her face had clouded her vision and he felt his heart hammering faster as he realised she looked at him with such deep concern… but then she called him an ass? She appeared to be highly emotional following whatever went on, more so than even Dean and it confused the angel.

She’d said that she couldn’t lose him, but was angry about it? Whoever this woman was must clearly be attached to Castiel and he wondered how she’d take it if he was honest. Probably not well. Y/N was visibly shaken already, Cas loosely remembered a phrase, “adding insult to injury,” and with a grimace, he realised he’d simply have to piece the rest together as he went.

“Cas?” Dean said, clicking his fingers in front of the angel’s face and making him jump, “geez, back on Earth now? Come on, let’s get inside, I’m freezing my ass off out here.”

“Of course,” Cas nodded quickly and clambered out of the car, standing awkwardly once he did so, becoming aware that he didn’t in fact know where he was going.

“Cas, are you alright?” Y/N’s voice said lightly by his side.

“Fine.”

“If you say so… You’d tell me if there was something up, though, right?” She said with a sad smile, “I really am sorry about back there… I didn’t think anyone could get there in time and he was about to-”

The angel smiled briefly and muttered a quick, “yes," before following where Dean was starting to walk, leaving a mildly confused Y/N in his wake.

So he confided in her? Dean didn’t say anything of the sort so clearly he shared some kind of bond with Y/N, that would explain the emotional response and the fact that Castiel had been willing to do whatever it took to protect her. The entire event was a blur, he had odd memories of the past few decades but nothing that gave him any sort of inkling as to who these people were.

The motel room was ‘quaint’, the man named Sammy was sat by a laptop and jumped up as he saw the three of you enter, he was tall, far taller than the vessel Castiel currently occupied but he spoke in a soft voice, "what happened to you guys? Are you alright?”

“Thanks to Cas, yeah,” Y/N grimaced, “I wouldn’t actually be here without him.”

Sammy went to question it but Dean chipped in, “what was that back there, Cas?”

All eyes fell on Castiel and he shifted uncomfortably, “I… I smited the demons?”

Dean scoffed, “I’d noticed that much. You went friggin’ nuclear.”

“I protected Y/N,” he stated simply, it was one of the few facts that at this point he knew to be true. “She was going to get hurt and I could not stand by.”

“Alright, Romeo,” Dean said muffling a yawn, “just a bit of warning next time? I’d have taken sunglasses.”

“Duly noted.”

Dean opened his mouth to say something but shook his head wearily, “alright, well, you guys are damn lucky… why don’t we get a change of clothes and research what kind of operation they were running there over a take away?”

Y/N nodded slowly and made her way to the door, leaving Cas stood unsure of where to go.

“Dude, you just gonna stand there or-?" Sammy asked expectantly.

"Right, yes," Castiel cleared his throat, "sorry, Sammy.”

He assumed this meant it was time to leave so he followed Y/N out, missing the confused expression from Sam entirely. He thought he was doing well at blending in, but Dean’s latest comment set him on edge as he slowly put the pieces together. He may not have a large pop culture knowledge, but he knew Romeo to be Juliet’s love in the famous play… so by that theory, did that mean Y/N was Juliet? He gulped nervously as he realised everything he heard could only point to one thing, Y/N must be his significant other.

It certainly put an interesting spin on things, but if that was the case then she would be distraught to know her husband no longer remembered her. It only confirmed to Cas that he would have to act as if nothing was wrong, he couldn’t deny that he liked her, she had an aura that he was instantly drawn to, but he would have to fall in to wherever they had left off.

He closed the door to the brothers’ motel room behind him and caught up to Y/N. She tensed as she heard his footsteps and spoke in a low voice, “Cas, look, I know you probably want to talk about what I nearly-?” Y/N started.

“I am sorry you thought you’d have to sacrifice yourself and I am glad you’re okay,” Cas said with a tight smile.

“T-Thanks?” She replied, turning around as she fumbled for her motel room key and jammed it in the lock.

“No need to thank me,” He said gruffly, hoping it sounded softer out loud than it did in his head. Y/N seemed to be quite jumpy at him so he decided it would likely be best to try and comfort her, he tentatively placed a hand on the small of her back as she lead the way through the door, she tensed up but calmly separated away when she got in, busying herself with finding some fresh clothes from her bag and Castiel realised she must be quite shaken up. “Y/N, how are things… generally?”

“Fine, I suppose?” she shrugged, “just another day on the job.”

Cas diverted his eyes as she picked up a ball of clothes to change into, desperately hiding a change of underwear within the folds of the tshirt. He knew it was a thing humans were secretive about and wondered why she would be embarrassed around him if he lived with her, but he brushed it off, he’d never really understood the intricacies of human interaction and she must know that of him.

“So Sammy and Dean…” he started but a laugh from Y/N cut him off.

“Sammy? Don’t let him hear you say that. Since when do you call Sam, 'Sammy’?” She shook her head, digging around for toiletries, “sorry, carry on?”

He bit his lip nervously, clearly not everyone had the same name for Sam, he made a mental note of that before carrying on, “Sam and Dean, they… they’re used to this sort of thing?”

Y/N threw Cas an odd look and scoffed, after a second she furrowed her brow and looked at him again, “you sure you’re alright? You seem more off than normal.”

“I’m okay,” he replied perhaps a little too fast. 

“If you say so… um, excuse me,” she muttered, scooting into the bathroom, before saying over her shoulder, “I’m going to have a very quick shower, just make yourself at home.”

The angel breathed a sigh of relief at not having to talk anymore,  opting to look around the room. He could see there was only one single bed, but that made perfect sense seeing as he had no need to sleep. She’d been very quick to want to get away though and as he heard the shower switch on, he began to wonder what he was doing wrong. He clealy wasn’t acting how she was used to him acting, but just what she expected was a mystery to Castiel.

Within a few seconds, she was out of the shower and cleaned up, he realised it must not have been seconds and that he was in fact lost in thought about his situation… time was different for angels anyway.

“You’re still here?” She smiled, starting to brush her wet hair.

“Yes, of course, this is our room, is it not?” He said, trying to lighten the mood with humour.

“It is not,” she laughed. Castiel’s brow furrowed as Y/N continued, “it’s my room… we don’t…” she swallowed hard, putting down the brush and turning to face him, “Cas, I’m only going to ask once more, and you’re going to tell me straight. What the hell is wrong?”

The angel surreptitiously fiddled with his tie before letting out a sigh. It seemed futile to pretend, he was a pitiful liar anyway. “I… when I protected you… I don’t remember you.”

His heart broke as he saw Y/N’s face drop. He didn’t know why he felt quite as he did but he knew it must have been why he’d saved you in the first place, anything to prevent that look.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered taking a cautious step towards you, “I deduced we’re married, but-”

“What?”

He couldn’t read her emotions in that moment, her face truly a mixture of emotions so he carried on, hoping to clear up her doubts. “I understand this must be upsetting for you, I didn’t… I can tell I still have feelings towards you. I don’t remember feeling this before, so between that and comments, I knew what it must mean. It seems obvious that I loved you in some way, so I hope you can forgive-”

“M-married?” Y/N cut him off. Cas nodded and opened his mouth to speak but she kept going, “Cas, we’re not even dating. You never said you even liked me let alone,” she paused, waving her hand in the air, “what you just said.”

Castiel gulped and felt his vessel’s heart began to hammer, “so we’re not marital partners?”

“No,” she replied slowly, “not at all.”

“I… I’m sorry,” he stuttered, suddenly not knowing where to put his hands and beginning to make his way to the door, “I should, um, talk to Sam and Dean.”

“Cas, wait!”

The angel paused half way across the room and turned back to look at Y/N, speaking in a low voice, “I apologise if I’ve offended you.”

“Far from it,” she smiled, her voice thick, “but you really don’t remember me?”

“No. Nor Sam or Dean.”

“Explains the Sammy comment,” she grimaced, running a shaking hand through her hair before suddenly realising it was wet, and letting out a short laugh, “never rains but it pours, hey, wings?”

“It’s not raining.”

“Figure of speech,” Y/N said with a weak smile.

“Oh, I see,” he smiled, swallowing hard, “so, how do I know you?”

“We’re friends, I guess. We… Can I ask you a question?”

“Yes, I cannot confirm I’ll know the answer, though.”

“What did you mean by feelings?”

The question threw Castiel, he didn’t truly know what they were. He knew he didn’t like seeing her hurt and he knew his grace felt almost energised in her presence, but what that meant? He didn’t know.

“I don’t know, I did not feel it with the brothers, there’s just something that makes me want to be around you,” he said, brows meeting as he tried to fathom what he was trying to say, “I’m not sure what the word is.”

“I think I know,” she smiled softly before shaking her head and collecting herself, “between the four of us we’ll get your memories back, Castiel, don’t worry… and when we do, you and I can have this talk again, does that sound alright?”

Castiel’s shoulders visibly relaxed and he nodded, “Thank you, Y/N.”

“It’s the least I can do for my guardian angel, right?”

Maid To Serve

TITLE: Maid to Serve

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter Thirty Nine

AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine that you have been sold to a slave trader to pay a debt. One day you are bought and given to Loki as a gift. He ignores you at first, but he slowly begins to notice your attention to small details in your daily tasks and your funny little quirks. He tries everything he can to seduce you, and the more you resist the more intrigued he is.

RATING: Teen and Up

Startled, you heard shouts, shrieks and yells as you woke, looking around fearfully; it took a few moments before a voice became familiar.

“IS SHE HERE?” Loki never yelled in your presence, but there was no doubting it was him, and relief flooded you. You tried to call out, but you had been drugged again to ensure your good behaviour, so you could only hope that they would scour the premises should they not be told.

“Check every room,” Thor ordered.

Keep reading

The first reconciliation.

This whole scene was the best moment in Kiznaiver so far.

I had a feeling these three would be the first to step forward to patch things up after that mess in episode 9 and I am so glad I was right.

Bless the beautiful soul that is Nico. She’s so pure. All she wanted was to have friends and even though she’s been horribly rejected numerous times, including by the person she liked, she still didn’t think bad of the Kiznaivers and wanted to continue being friends even after their “bonds” have disappeared. She believes that just because they’ve been through rough times, it doesn’t mean that should negate the happier times they’ve shared. Nico is so brave. She was and still is willing to accept the pain that comes with having relationships because she feels that those connections are what’s worth the pain.

Bless Hisomu for being the only one to act on his concern for Katsuhira and for being genuinely happy for Nico when she rejoiced that they could be friends. Despite all his eccentricities about pain and the occasional insensitive comments he makes, he does think of the Kiznaivers as people and not just outlets to receive pleasure from. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have accepted Nico’s offer now that he can no longer feel their pain. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have gone out of his way to stick by Katsuhira and make sure he took care of himself. Hisomu essentially proves that connections don’t just fade away so easily.

Bless Katsuhira, who has been robbed of so many important things because of this atrocious experiment. Katsuhira who, despite being beaten up by both bullies and friends alike, still cares and doesn’t hold any petty grudges or animosity in spite of going through all the crap he didn’t deserve. He worries for both Noriko and Chidori. He listened to what Nico had to say and he agreed with her. Not on the basis that he’s just complying to what someone else is asking but because he also believed they could be friends because they all wanted to. Because he, Katsuhira, also wanted to.

“Let’s be friends.”

Let’s be friends because we want to stay with each other. Let’s be friends because so we can keep supporting each other. Let’s be friends so we can be happy together.

I love these three and this is all the reason why you should as well.

6

LEAF!

It’s literally the only way Lapis is willing to share the barn with Peridot.

Man, first comic thing I’ve ever drawn. I’ve never done something with multiple panels before. And what do I choose for my first comic? 6 panels that lead up to a terrible visual pun. Truly I am a creature of majesty and glory.
Background is taken from the show (though edited).

I went into a tag rant about this, but I’m going to put it forth more publicly because I am so goddamn tired (so tired):

There is enough suffering in the world that everyone can have a share in it.  There is no need to turn pain into a pissing contest.  One person’s loss does not invalidate another’s, and it is a supremely dickish move to act as though it does.

FURTHERMORE.  If you’re willing to play these little “Who Had It Worse” games with fictional characters, I personally don’t trust you not to do it with real people.  Sorry. but I just don’t.  So if you’re dead-set on jumping into a post about how Leia comforted Luke and then Luke comforted Leia and hey they’re both kind to each other isn’t that great with a “Well, actually,” then you and I probably shouldn’t hang, is my point.

There is no winning the Trauma Olympics.  There’s just loss and pain and a handful of dickbags who can’t resist turning every goddamn thing into a competition because they’re dickbags.  DON’T BE THAT DICKBAG.

Response to Bronx Documentary Center

Thanks for the notification of a piece of my work being included in your Altered Images exhibition. While I would have appreciated more time to consider, I am nonetheless happy to grant permission of the inclusion and display of my work in this exhibition and am willing to supply my images in whatever format is most feasible on your short timeline (though fine art prints are preferred).

Note this is not because I agree with your assessment of my work, but rather because I find the dialog around the nature of formal documentary photography very interesting, considering that we now live in an era where to not document one’s life and share it with the public via social media is seen as the exception rather than the rule.

I think it’s deeply important to understand that at no point have any of the images I’ve taken been produced on commission by The Guardian or any news outlet that you would hold to the ethical standards of journalistic integrity you reference. My photographs of sex workers, addicts, and the homeless of Hunts Point, Bronx, started, continued, and remains a personal project driven by my own curiosity and fueled by carefully developed relationships with my subjects all of whom I’ve spoken to in depth so I can try to understand what they are going through. What I’ve learned is that largely they are caught in a cycle of poverty, violence, discrimination, and misunderstanding perpetuated by greater society.

My only hesitation towards permitting the display of my images in your exhibition is the clearly negative undertone of the context in which you’ve placed them. You have failed to account for how my subjects feel about the images I’ve taken of them. Their poses are very much their own, and I am insulted by your implication that I manipulate them into what you say are degrading positions. When desperation has driven a person to stand on a corner with her tits out in the hopes of sucking a dick for money – for whatever purpose that money is intended – I think you’d agree that her standards have been changed.

It might be hard to understand, but more often than not the women in my pictures are proud of what they are showing me. This is something I have discussed extensively, and written about in my essay “Why I am showing a sex workers breasts.” I am curious how would you compare these intentions to, for instance, Philip-Lorca diCorcia’s Hustlers series?

I cannot speak of all the other works included in your show, but the ones discussed in public are all cases of a lack of honesty and transparency by the artist. They are attempts to deceive through misinformation or deception. I have always been clear and transparent about my intentions, methods, and lack of complete objectivity. I insert myself in the process and document my attempts to help my subjects. My lack of objectivity is intentional and integral to my work. I can do this because it is a personal project where my relationships to my subject is more important than getting paid for taking pictures.

Finally, your implication that those I work with are unable to understand their role and to give consent displays a fundamental, and demeaning, misunderstanding of addicts, and addiction. It falls into the common media narrative and trope that addicts are helpless, dumb, stupid, infantile, lazy, etc.

Four years working with street addicts has taught me nothing could be farther from the truth. Addicts are as smart as any group I have worked with. They are people with a nasty disease in a nasty situation. The goal of my project is to remind people of that. Hopefully the Bronx Documentary Center will learn that from a display, however small and brief, of a section of my work.


The email to me from the Bronx Documentary Center: http://arnade.tumblr.com/post/121931839156/ooooh-i-am-not-liked-by-a-museum-an-email-i

Subject: Finally!
Date: May 31 2011 07:30
To: Anastasia Steele

Anastasia I am annoyed that as soon as you put some distance between us, you communicate openly and honestly with me. Why can’t you do that when we’re together? Yes, I’m rich. Get used to it. Why shouldn’t I spend money on you? We’ve told your father I’m your boyfriend, for heaven’s sake. Isn’t that what boyfriends do? As your Dom, I would expect you to accept whatever I spend on you with no argument. Incidentally, tell your mother too. I don’t know how to answer your comment about feeling like a whore. I know that’s not what you’ve written, but it’s what you imply. I don’t know what I can say or do to eradicate these feelings. I’d like you to have the best of everything.  I work exceptionally hard, so I can spend my money as I see fit. I could buy you your heart’s desire, Anastasia, and I want to. Call it redistribution of wealth if you will. Or simply know that I would not, could not ever think of you in the way you described, and I’m angry that’s how you perceive yourself. For such a bright, witty, beautiful young woman you have some real self-esteem issues, and I have a half a mind to make an appointment for you with Dr. Flynn. I apologize for frightening you. I find the thought of instilling fear in you abhorrent. Do you really think I’d let you travel in the hold? I offered you my private jet for heaven’s sake. Yes it was a joke, a poor one obviously. However, the fact is – the thought of you bound and gagged turns me on (this is not a joke – it’s true). I can lose the crate – crates do nothing for me. I know you have issues with gagging, we’ve talked about that and if/ when I do gag you, we’ll discuss it. What I think you fail to realize is that in Dom/sub relationships it is the sub that has all the power. That’s you. I’ll repeat this – you are the one with all the power. Not I. In the boathouse you said no. I can’t touch you if you say no – that’s why we have an agreement – what you will and won’t do. If we try things and you don’t like them, we can revise the agreement. It’s up to you – not me. And if you don’t want to be bound and gagged in a crate, then it won’t happen. I want to share my lifestyle with you. I have never wanted anything so much. Frankly I’m in awe of you, that one so innocent would be willing to try. That says more to me than you could ever know. You fail to see I am caught in your spell, too, even though I have told you this countless times. I don’t want to lose you. I am nervous that you’ve flown three thousand miles to get away from me for a few days, because you can’t think clearly around me. It’s the same for me Anastasia. My reason vanishes when we’re together – that’s the depth of my feeling for you.

I understand your trepidation. I did try to stay away from you; I knew you were inexperienced, though I would never have pursued you if I had known exactly how innocent you were – and yet you still manage to disarm me completely in a way that nobody has before. Your email for example: I have read and re-read it countless times trying to understand your point of view. Three months is an arbitrary amount of time. We could make it six months, a year? How long do you want it to be? What would make you comfortable? Tell me. I understand that this is a huge leap of faith for you. I have to earn your trust, but by the same token, you have to communicate with me when I am failing to do this. You seem so strong and self-contained, and then I read what you’ve written here, and I see another side to you. We have to guide each other Anastasia, and I can only take my cues from you. You have to be honest with me, and we have to both find a way to make this arrangement work. You worry about not being submissive. Well maybe that’s true. Having said that, the only
time you do assume the correct demeanor for a sub is in the playroom. It seems that’s the one place where you let me exercise proper control over you, and the only place you do as you’re told. Exemplary is the term that comes to mind. And I’d never beat you black and blue. I aim for pink. Outside the playroom, I like that you challenge me. It’s a very novel and refreshing experience, and I wouldn’t want to change that. So yes, tell me what you want in terms of more. I will endeavor to keep an open mind, and I shall try and give you the space you need and stay away from you while you are in Georgia. I look forward to your next email. In the meantime, enjoy yourself. But not too much.

Christian Grey CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

A Selfless Love

TITLE: A Selfless Love

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT:Chapter Five of Five

AUTHOR: Wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine AU, where it’s Loki instead of Maleficent. He has watched you grow ever since you were little and by the time you were 16, he has fallen in love with you and regrets putting this curse on you, but he can’t take it away. When you fall asleep, he watches with broken heart as Prince Philippe kisses you, but when it doesn’t work and the prince leaves, he walks to you to apologize. In the end, he kisses you on the lips and you wake up, his lips still on yours.

RATING: General Audiences

Anger and despair engulfed Loki as he looked at Aurora. He had failed her, and because of that, she would never experience the world again, or if she did, she would be too old to do anything but wait to die; he was not sure which fate was worse honestly. Deciding to dedicate his life to searching the realms for a cure, he knew he would not return to her again for some time, so he changed into his human form to say goodbye. He walked to the bed and held her hand in his; it seemed so small in comparison, as dainty and as soft as her. “My beautiful Aurora,” his voice cracked with his anguish. “I can never take back the terrible things I have done to you, all of which you never deserved, I should have dealt with your mother, it was her debt to pay, I should never have dragged you into it. I swear, I will die trying to change the fate I have bestowed on you if needs be, I love you my little morning’s sun, and none can comprehend how much you mean to me.” He leant down and kissed her forehead. “I will right this wrong, I swear it.” With that declaration, he swallowed hard with one last glance at Aurora, and went to leave.

“I think you already did.” A gentle voice stated from behind him.

For several moments, Loki remained paralysed in shock before slowly turning around again. There, looking up at him with bright blue eyes, as though after waking from a good night’s sleep, Aurora lay, a small smile on her face. “How?” he whispered.

Keep reading

10

Sherlock + Shakespearean characters (insp.)

Reasons behind choices (which I’m aware will differ from the opinions of others, but I did try to stick to how the canon shows these characters, and not the fanon interpretations):

Sherlock Holmes // Iago, Othello: “For I am nothing, if not critical.” Both Sherlock and Iago, as characters, use their intellect and their wits as their main weapon. They are cold and distant, and often see other people as commodities rather human beings (Iago to advance his plans, Sherlock to alleviate his boredom). They aren’t afraid of manipulating others, even people close to them, in order to get their way and to win in a conflict. However, the difference comes in that Iago’s machinations throughout Othello come from a place of deep jealousy, whereas Sherlock is shown on some occasions to have compassion for others and be highly aware of what others think of him, which can lead him down dark paths.

Keep reading

“Oh no, come on man,” Nino groaned, putting his phone down and looking Adrien in the eye. “You’re still talking to that guy?”

“He knows the most about the company,” Adrien shrugged, popping a tomato in his mouth. “And since Dad willed me his controlling share-”

“He’s such a…dick though,” Nino said.

"He’s…not that bad,” Adrien murmured.

“No, man, he’s a major dick,” Nino said.

“Nino…” Adrien chided, trying not to smile.

“Like that’s his military rank; Major Dick,” Nino said. “Commander of the United Dick Forces Air, Land, and Sea.”

“Come on,” Adrien said, snorting into his soda.

“What is he here?” Nino asked, looking around. “Please tell me if he comes in so I can salute the officer on dick-deck.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Adrien asked. “Not take his advice on running my dad’s company?”

“Thought you were thinking about cashing out?” Nino said.

“…still thinking,” Adrien shrugged. “It’s a big decision.”

“I guess,” Nino sighed. “Don’t see why Colonel Dick has to take up your weekends.”

“Did you just promote him?” Adrien snorted.

“Field promotion,” Nino explained. “For exemplary actions in service to the Dick Empire.”

— 

satisfaction brought it back by siderealSandman

best bit of conversation i’ve read in a long long while