#of course there is always room for self improvement but i actually feel completely secure and content with the direction i'm going

[hawkeyedflame]

i guess i'm a touch late but,

2023 was a truly amazing year for me. i feel so blessed to be healthy and alive and experiencing the beauty in the world in spite of all the setbacks i've had over the years.

i was able to travel to canada and see the breathtaking rocky mountains three times this year. my wife was able to visit with me as well, and two of my best friends from out of state traveled down to visit me/us over the summer. our immigration decision will be handed down very soon, and we will finally be able to close this difficult chapter of our lives for good.

my brother and sister-in-law blessed our family with another child over the summer and he is precious in every way. my niece continues to be a joy to watch grow and engage with the world. i got a better job, with much higher pay, a wonderful team of coworkers, and a very generous work-life balance. i picked up running again this year, feeling finally healthy enough to move my body in ways i hadn't been able to in an entire decade, and even started racing again. i'm running a marathon in april with some friends. i go to the gym at work every weekday. i have been hiking and snowboarding. i've taken up learning the irish language, i've re-committed to learning how to draw, and i've been making and maintaining healthy habits slowly over the year. i have friends i see regularly and most days i forget my computer even exists, which is surreal to me as someone who used to be extremely dependent on, probably addicted to, social media and video games as escapism.

my mental health is practically perfect, not even a whisper of depression or anxiety, thanks entirely to my diet, which has in turn allowed an upward spiral of productivity and genuine living that has driven me past merely not being ill, into the territory of being near-constantly joyful and deeply at peace with myself.

i got a tattoo which has become a source of confidence and assurance, a small but bold reminder that i am strong enough to be true to myself and live my life honestly and for the benefit of my family and community. i have brought healing to many people this year and my hope is that the effects continue to ripple outwards into the world over and over.

nearly nothing bad happened to me or my loved ones in 2023. it was easily the best year of my life and i genuinely believe 2024 will be even better. normally i'd cry out not to jinx it, but i believe it will be better because i am better, and i will continue to shape better and better versions of myself. i hope this year will be good for everyone else, too.

[mypoorsanity]

𝘁𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝗺𝗲, 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝗱𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲?

𝘁𝗼𝗸𝘆𝗼𝗿𝗲𝘃!𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲𝘀

𝗮/𝗻, 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 : 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿, 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗳𝗲𝗺 𝘀𝘁𝘆𝗹𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗶𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀, 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗺𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗶𝘁’𝘀 𝗺𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗹𝘆 𝗳𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳, 𝗺𝘆 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝘆𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳 𝗵𝗶 𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗼 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲,,,

quality time/acts of service, gift giving :

mitsuya had acquired a little bouquet of your favourite flowers and a teddy bear to match his declaration to you, he mentally vows that the second you had embraced his love for you, he would bring you on all the already planned dates you would both be taking in the foreseeable future. don't get me wrong, mitsuya absolutely loves the smile you display when he shows his affection towards you or when you give him the best hugs, but there's just something about seeing your beautiful face light up when he showed you the bracelet he had bought that you'd been eyeing as you and he were window shopping last week. another thing for him was just seeing you come over to his place and also showing your love towards his sisters as if you were one little family. the both of you completing the laundry that he was supposed to wash, fold and hang dry, but you insist it would be faster if you both did it together, he simply loved the small talk you both would make about almost anything while you both did the simple chore, his heart swelled up every time.

acts of service, physical touch (really not much it’s baji) :

he’s like head over heels in love with you and would burn down the world if you asked him too but man, don’t ask baji to give you a kiss or hold hands in public, especially around his friends. though, maybe, if he’s feeling sappy he’ll put his arm around you shoulder and one quick peck on your forehead, he’s gotta keep up the rep y’know.. but he really does love you and loves you 10x more when you both have small study sessions in his room, or try to. he constantly aims to make you proud, as seen by the way he carefully examines the task at hand, baji has a purpose in mind. after you've completed studying with him, he always finds a way to express his gratitude by showing you physical attention. doesn't look like much, but when he's secure at home, baji adores your embraces. he claims that the moment you sit on his bed and extend your arms for him to jump into (he's not light you almost die every time /hj), he might almost forget all he has learned today and to just collapse in your arms. however, i advise against letting him do so since, unless you manage to wake him up, it's a death sentence.

words of affirmation, quality time :

probably the only thing you’ve every really asked, (you begged not ask) was to learn how to fight, to learn with your boyfriend, draken as your teacher. now, draken thinks it’s actually a good idea to for you to learn some self defence, just him being your teacher? he thinks it’s too much for you, not as in to call you weak, but as in saying that one hit could probably cause a knock out on someone like you. after some consideration, he agreed to teach you his methods every thursday evening after picking you up from school. these sessions seemed like one of those nice small dates you two would have, and he secretly adored every minute of it. he couldn't help but chuckle a bit when it got to the moments where you and him would spar since you kept failing to get past his arm barricade. you were adorable, my god. but of course, once you would manage to get a reasonably good hit on him, a huge smile would spread across yours and his faces, and the compliments that would tumble from his lips would make you delirious with satisfaction. "that was great babe, now try that once again with more power”. it gave you the energy you needed to improve even more..

physical touch, quality time :

just, take a nap with him, ok? if you shared a daily one with him, or even simply laid next to him as he slept, he would literally grow a pair of hearts on his eyes. mikey just wants your bodies to be as close as possible when your spending time together, alone, just the both of you, him snacking while you play with his hair. it’s his version of paradise. outside it’s more on the way you hold his hand, he’s really not afraid to have you cling onto his arm, he loves it. he is already willing to give up a lifetime for you because of something as simple and important as interlocking pinkies. listen i sound dramatic, but it’s honestly what mikey feels in his heart, especially when he looks at you while your staring at your phone watching some sort of cat video. absolute adoration.

acts of service, physical touch (he tries ok) :

he sincerely wishes he could express how he feels through touch, but the moment you two sit down together, he starts to feel extremely warm. baji genuinely wonders how the heck he had the courage to even approach you, but the truth is, he achieved it via letters. you basically had a hidden crush on chifuyu and found everything he drew to be so cute, especially the small cats he'd draw in the corner. he felt it was his responsibility as your boyfriend to assist you with everything, whether it was preparing for a test, finding your wallet after you misplaced it, or while taking you on your weekly date to the neighbourhood animal shelter so you could pet the cats there. it was his special way of showing you how much he loves you. but one moment he makes an effort to touch you physically while you both are watching a movie on his tv, peke-j relaxing on your lap and you, who were quite interested in the film. chifuyu took advantage of your diversion to wrap his arm over your shoulders. let's assume that he did a fantastic job because you seemed to like it. after that, he really grew accustomed to it and used to welcome you by placing his arm around your shoulders when he saw you leaving your class at school. chifuyu's next objective was to master holding your hand.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Saved

Summary- 2.6k Bucky x You. Based on a ASK from anon-Hella Bi Bitch. Hydra tramautized you and you go to Bucky for comfort. Angst/Fluff. Also written for @jtargaryen18​ 4k Challenge. 

“Sweetheart. They are not coming.” Brock leered over your face, his hot breath washing over you, and it was almost impossible to miss the leer in his brown eyes as he cupped your face. If you had the capabilities, you would jerk away, but you were strapped down. All over, even your head was strapped flush to the hard metal table. The only thing you would do that would be satisfactory was work your mouth, draw up that last bit of spittle you had left and spat at him, making him curse while jerking back. 

It would be worth the pain he would cause next, knowing that at least he couldn't break you, just tie you down. Captain would be here soon, Iron Man, Natasha, Bucky… someone, someone would come for you. 

Brock retaliated by slamming an open palm across your face, biting back a cry, a burst of blood interrupted from your nose, racing down your face. 

As parched as you were, you welcomed the hot iron taste swarming your mouth, even through the pain. 

“Rumlow! You will step away from the girl. We need her.” 

Dread filled you as his face went from rage, to a cold smirk, pulling away from you. “Don't worry sweetheart, once they are done breaking you, you and I are going to do great things.” 

Your eyes flickered to the Hydra Agent, laying out his supplies, tools of pain and vials of poison to flood your system. Nauseated, you looked back up to the ceiling, and squeezed your eyes shut, clamping your mouth shut. Tears welled up, you would probably be gone, dead before the team would find you. It was what you hoped for now. 

You would rather die then let them turn you evil. Wasn't there a saying? You either die a hero or turn into a villian. You prayed, prayed for death instead. 

A year you were tested on, preyed on until you became a shell. Moved from base to base, handled by various people. None had a shred of kindness, and Brock especially took joy in your torture. 

He was able to use the various instruments, had access to your cell whenever he wanted. Your personal bodyguard, your personal hell. In these times you sink away from yourself, your body started to work on their command, your mind an empty shell of your former self. Intelligent? Yes, but yourself, no. 

It wasn't complete yet, there was still a shred of you left. Holding on, barely. 

Your rescue happened one sunny afternoon, but you weren't to ever know this. You were deep underground, away from air and light. They had just dumped you in your cell when there coms went off. To weak to pay attention to the Hydra agents fear as they hurriedly locked you in, you crawled to your cot and folded yourself onto it. Another day of survived hell. Squeezing your eyes shut, you really just wished for it to end. At this point in any manner. So much pain. To much.

Alone for a while, you start to drift off into nothingness when metal on metal jolted you awake with a terrified whimper. You heard the clang on your bars and lifted your head up to see Bucky trying to see who was curled up on the cot. 

“B-b-bucky?” You eased up slowly to make sure you weren't seeing things, and then right next to him Steve stepped up, flipping his shield to hang on his back. 

“Doll, we finally found you.” Bucky exclaimed with relief, grasping the bars and wrenching them as hard as he could, the metal whining in protest, but it wasn't strong enough to hold him back from what he wanted. 

Steve kept a watch of Bucky's six, speaking into the com at his ear. “We got her, Bucky is collecting Y/N now, have the jet ready Clint. Nat, you just about done? Sam, cover us when we come up."

“Five more seconds and data is secure, Tony can blow this hell hole to dust.” 

Bucky's arm went around you for support as you went to stand, sore from earlier, he saw you hobble forward and he swept you up. 

“Just faster this way Doll, come on Steve. Before Stark gets trigger happy.” Bolting for the nearest set of stairs, everything became a blur as Bucky and Steve bolted from the building. Hiding your face in Buckys shoulder, you never did see that sunny afternoon. 

A shadow passed over Bucky and Steve bolting across the ground, and when you glanced up, lifting your head off Buckys shoulder, the flash of red and silver covered out the blue sky above, and you smiled to yourself, between Sam, Steve and Bucky, you were safe. Exhaustion dipped your head back to Buckys shoulder.

It wasn't long till you were back at Stark Towers, which hadn't been your home in a year. Bucky carried you down into the medic bay with Sam close by. The rest of the team went to debrief on the mission, knowing you were taken cared of. Bucky easily set you down on the table, hovering nearby, he seemed hesitant to leave you, you who were so quiet, so shut down. Sam hovered close by, his jaw clenched. Quiet at well. Not knowing what to say or do, You just stared at the floor till Bruce came in. 

“Give us some privacy Bucky? I need to give her a full examination.” Bruce said softly, and your eyes welled up with tears, hiding away from them both. Bucky shook his head in refusal. “I'm not leaving her alone.” 

“Okay, but on the other side of the curtain, if Y/N needs you, she will call you.” Bruce looked over at you to confirm that was okay, and you nodded, still unable to look at any of them. Your shame and fear pounding at you. Sam clasped Buckys forearm, nodding his head to the door. "We will just be on the other side." When Bucky stepped on the other side, you could see the worried look flashing across his face, somewhat in recgonition to your pain. Sam gave you a slight nod, and a smile of encouragement.

Why couldnt you be stronger? 

The start of your recovery was rough, locked in your room a lot. It took some time for you to open back up to the team. Bring a sense of normalcy to you again. Your normal for the past year has been to be tortured. Everyday life was a lot. Things so simple, like going to get a glass of water, took all your willpower to do. The team, they did everything they could to make it easier.  Natasha and Clint immediately made you a part of their movie nights. At first you would sit stiffly away from them, not wanting to be touched by anyone. But soon you loosened up. Curling up against Clint while his arm draped over you, your feet in Natasha’s lap while she painted your nails. “How are the nightmares Y/N?” Natasha would ask, and you could feel Clint tighten his arm around you slightly, listening. It was no secret, your nightmares were a nightly occurrence, often waking up screaming and trying to hide somewhere in the room. 

“They are fine, fewer and fewer every day.” You lied, covering your shame. 

Steve, you often went with Steve out for walks where he would find some subject to draw. You would lay in the sun, while your friend sketched away at some piece of nearby building, sometimes a landscape. Once he even did you while you were sitting a bit away, catching your profile watching the clouds above. Often you two would sit in easy silence, not needing to have long intense conversations, you were just happy to be with your friend. Once in a while you would ask him. “Steve, you think I can join the team soon?” 

The blonde man would hum, and his blue eyes would shift over towards you a moment before going back to his paper. “Y/N, don't rush it. You were there for a year. I'm not putting you in the field before you're ready. Here, what do you think?” He would flip his pad around and of course it was his way of saying, No. Not Now. Maybe not ever.

Sam often had you over to his apartment to help with meals. You figured it was to make sure you were eating properly. At least one square meal. When you asked him, he scoffed. "Actually taking these cooking classes, I make enough for two. Lets face it, your better company then I could ask for. Besides Steve and Bucky are not adventurous like you. They wanna boil everything." Sam snorted, stiring his jambalaya. "Chop this up." He said quickly, handing you a knife. You always felt safer with something, Sam noticed this the first time you joined him, and you flinched when he drew out a butchers blade. From then on, you were set on chopping duties. You began to really look forward to cooking nights with Sam.

"No girlfriends to have cooking dates with?" You would tease when you set to chopping and Sam would give you that grin of his.

"Sure, I just test them on you first Precious. Gotts make sure they are decent enough to feed to others."

"Yea, I'm real Precious if your using me as a gineau pig." You stick your tongue out st your friend, but secretly you don't mind.

Tony, he was more energetic. Often you would be sitting down in his workshop, laughing at his attempts to improve the Ironman suit. It became a habit to keep a fire extinguisher nearby. “Tony, I don't think you should try this.” You said warily as he put on his new thruster boots. “Aww come on, what's the worst that can happen?” He grinned, and winked. 

He ended up shooting around the room like a balloon just untied, crashing into walls and bouncing off the floor. When he finally came to a stop, his feet were on fire. 

Jumping down with the extinguisher, you yelled “Tony!” and covered him with the foam, once it ended and the billionaire blinked it away, swiping the foam off his face. 

“I had it under control Y/N.” 

“Sure you did.” You squirted him one last time to retaliate before putting it away, and holding your hand out to him, helping him up. 

“Payback Y/N, payback.” Tony glared before pulling you into a hug, getting you covered to. At first it was fine, until you didnt feel Tony anymore and you struggled. Tony immediately let go, and you covered your face in shame. “Im sorry, I'm so sorry Tony.” He shook his head and gently grasped your wrist just enough to uncover your face. “Y/N, it's okay to feel like that. I should have asked first.” You gave an apologetic smile and he winked. The good thing with Tony was that he moved on from your attacks like they never happened, and for that you were forever grateful to your friend.

Bucky, he was the only one that you would find wandering late at night, like you were. When everyone else was fast asleep, you would be pacing the tower, afraid of sleep. It would happen, eventually. Your body would give into its demands, and you would go under into your nightmares. But until that happened though, you found ways to distract yourself. Sometimes it was video games on mute, you would bake muffins for the teams breakfast, get lost in Tony's library he allowed you access to. It was in these wanderings you found Bucky, bumping into him in random places. 

Eventually you two started to really get to know each other. Your late nights would be spent together. You opened up more and more, talking about what Hydra and Brock did to you during that year, Bucky making similar confessions while you two sat outside, away from the confines of the building. Quite a few times you both watched the sun start to come up far off to the east, and Bucky's arm would settle over you while your head tipped onto his shoulder. 

“Buck, I don't know if I will ever just be okay. Steve doesn't seem to think so.” 

“Doll, I came back from it.” He simply said, and you looked up at him, giving a half smile. 

“Your stronger than me.” 

His brow arched as he looked down at you. “That's not true. I had help, Steve, Shuri. I could have never done it alone. Why I know you will come back from this. Your not alone.” 

It gave you something to think about the rest of that day. 

You were so tired after two days going, you couldn't help but pass out, exhausted. You fell into bed in your sleep shorts and a tank, curling up while the world faded away. 

The nightmares though, flashbacks of all those times you were helpless, unable to fight back and could do nothing more than hold back your screams. It never helped, they still fell from you till you were horse from it, rolling from your bed as visions of various doctors plagued you, Hydra Agents beating on you, and Brock he was always in the darkness, watching with anticipation. When he would finally step from the shadows, you knew it wasn't just a nightmare anymore. It was hell. It was what sent you hiding while you were still sleeping. 

This night the jarring motion falling from your bed woke you, before Brock could get to you. Covering your head, you sobbed into your knees, so completely at a loss of how to fix yourself. Your shoulders shook, and you huddled there on the floor for a moment till your legs and back started to ache from being hunched over. Sniffling, you grasp the side of your bed and pull yourself to sit on the edge, wiping the tears from your face. The room felt cold. Reminiscent of your time with Hydra. No warmth, dark shadows stretching like they were reaching to claim you, in which you withdraw your feet off the floor, trying to talk yourself through what you felt was another oncoming panic attack. You had to get out of there, there was no way you could sleep in here tonight. 

Grabbing a blanket and wrapping it around your shoulders, you edge around your bed, trying not to let yourself get psyched out that Brock might be hiding in your room, he wasn't. He couldn't. It was impossible to break into Stark Towers, right? Into the living room you went, looking over your shoulder at what was your bedroom. Even your couch felt too close to the memories. 

It wasn't even a thought, you eased into the hallway and started down familiar doors. Steve, Natasha, Wanda… when you paused in front of one. It had no special markings, nothing to signify to any other that it was a special door, but for you it was. Hesitating for a second, you reached out and gave a quick rap of the knuckles, waiting. 

Bucky heard it, that quick knock knock. He never slept deeply, always aware of his surroundings, years of training and his own deep rooted fears that something was going to happen. When he opened his door to you, the blanket you had on you just about swallowed you, and your face peeked out, red rimmed eyes and ruddy cheeks. He knew you had been crying, were about to start crying as you were standing there. Bucky stepped back to let you in. 

“Sorry Bucky, I just… don't want to be in my apartment tonight.” Your head dropped as you stepped in, and he softly shut the door behind you. 

Standing there for a moment, you didn't know where to go from there, and he stepped in closer, encircling his arms around your cocooned blanket and you could feel the rush of a sob squeaking from you, pressing in against his t shirt. Bucky tucked you in close, feeling his own eyes prick with tears feeling you break in his arms, your shoulders shaking and even the blanket couldn't seem to keep you feeling safe now. But his arms did. They were strong and hard, encircling you. “Come on Doll, your exhausted I can feel it.” 

You didn't struggle as he led you down the small hallway to the back bedrooms, and  expected him to put you in a guest room that you knew all these apartments had. But he didn't. 

He brought you right into his room, and sat you on the edge of his bed. 

“Are you okay unwrapping from this?” He questioned, his hands resting on the blanket where you clutched it around you like a protective shield. You sniffled and dried your face on it momentarily before nodding, letting your grip go. He eased it off, and folded it. Resting at the end should you want it back. 

“Give me two seconds Doll.” He disappeared into his closet and with the door half shut, pulled on a pair of sweats over his boxers, and switched out his tear wet shirt for a dry one. When he came back out, you were right where he left you, feet dangling over the edge of the bed, and your fingers clasped in your lap. When he came around and stretched out, half propped up on pillows, you looked over your shoulder at him. “Can you leave the light on Buck? Just a little bit?” 

“Of course Y/N. '' Reaching to the lamp, he turned it on a softer setting and saw you visibly relax your shoulders as you looked around, and could still see all the corners of the room. Pushing back to get in the bed, you tucked yourself in against your friend's side, letting your head fall to his shoulder. 

“They must have been pretty bad this time.” Bucky said as he lifted a blanket over the two of you, and you nodded. “I kept seeing Him in the dark, coming for me.” Bucky was well aware who you were talking about, having shared with him before some that had happened to you. You lifted Bucky's arm and placed it around your shoulder, his palm pressing against your arm and tucking you in closer, dropping the softest of kisses on top of your head. “Even when I was awake, it was like he was just out of sight, waiting for me to drop my guard.” 

“We won't let him get to you Doll, not again.” 

There was a soft shuffle of blankets as you got comfier against him, and your arm locked around his middle, your voice muffled against his shirt. 

“I know Buck, that's why I came to you.” 

[silkylious]

Fucking Imbecile (Bakugo Katsuki x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: Bakugo Katsuki x Fem reader Warnings: Just a whole lotta fluff, light angst and comfort Prompt: #1 “Great. Now you’ve gone and fallen in love with her/him, you fucking imbecile”

A/N: Thank you @call-me-prodigy​ for the request! I hope you like this! 

A constant.

That’s what you’ve always been in his life. No matter the time, place or circumstances, you’ve always been there for him. He’d dubbed you a pebble on the side of the road for his feet to kick around, but much like his other childhood friend, it didn’t seem to perturb you in the slightest. Always wandering around with that dumb, carefree grin. Unlike Izuku though, you didn’t share his desire of becoming a hero. Violence just wasn’t for you, and even if there were a lot of rescue-centric heroes out there, fighting was still a huge part of the job. Besides, it wasn’t like you could be one even if you wanted to. You were quirkless after all. Your lack of interest in heroics didn’t mean you didn’t want to help people, however. Ever the true pacifist, you sought to make everyone’s day better, regardless of how big or small the effect may be, if your smile could brighten someone’s day even by a little bit then that was enough to satiate you. Which explains why throughout his childhood, despite him being a gigantic dickhead, you were a source of unconditional support and optimism in his life. A constant ray of blinding sunshine, livening his day up whether he asked for it or not.

The events that had just transpired left his brain reeling, struggling to catch up to reality. You looked like you were asking for help. Now that he wasn’t in the grips of the sludge villain, he was left to his own devices to overthink. Fucking Deku, I didn’t need help with that expired nickelodeon slime! He repeated over and over again, though it honestly felt like he was trying to reassure himself at this point. Katsuki was confident in his abilities (that’s a fucking understatement), but he couldn’t shake the feeling of actually being in the clutches of danger, no matter how many times he’d envisioned a scenario like this. People bumped into him from each direction, he didn’t feel them, eyes trained on his open palm. The pinnacle of his power couldn’t save him, yeah sure he stalled for a bit, but if All Might hadn’t showed up, both him and that shitty nerd would’ve been toast. That undeniable fact absolutely shook him. Before he could mentally crumble apart, a hand found his shoulder, stabilizing him in reality. So warm, so recognizable, it felt like home.

He turned around and was met with soft eyes, but they held no pity, no sympathy; they didn’t call him a weakling. They poured with understanding, pride and hope, as if telepathically telling him to learn from this experience, not take it to heart. You silently tugged at his sleeve, walking him towards his residence and he didn’t say no, he didn’t say anything at all. Just quietly watched your back as you lead the way, hand still lugging him along. Not once did you look back, and he decided that he wouldn’t either. He’d learn from this, and not look back; no reason to brood over what could’ve gone wrong.

When you went your separate ways (him to U.A. and you to a public high-school), he found it hard to adjust to your absence. Quirkless or not, he valued your presence in his life. He wouldn’t admit it to save his life, but he missed your encouraging smile, missed your comforting touch. He’d grown attached to you, you’d never once made him feel small, weak or pitiful, and you still managed to console him when he needed it most. Luckily for him, you lived next door.

He lost. To fucking Deku. That was certainly a first. What rubbed salt into his open wound were his other classmates, Katsuki was not accustomed to having actual competition. He was so used being first by a landslide, that his mind could barely compute not only his loss against Deku, but the sheer skill and strength some of his peers showed off. Like that Half-n-Half bastard. Fuck. Then that stupid nerd had to babble some bullshit about a borrowed quirk, was he mocking him? Did Deku seriously think he was dumb enough to believe shit like that?! He was standing in front of his home, refusing to go in, not when he still had fucking tears in his eyes.

“Katsuki?” Of fucking course, you had to show up now of all times. You seemed to have a habit of catching him at his lowest and it was pissing him off. He dried his eyes with his sleeve, he knew it was futile and his eyes were bloodshot anyway, but he refused to cry in front of you. At lest that was the plan.

“F-Fuck off!” His stammer severely dulled the insult. You ignored it, as per usual.

“What happened?” You persisted, approaching him until there was only a couple inches between you. His shaky breaths came out short, unrhythmic. You slowly lowered his forearm from his face, only to be greeted by his vermilion gems encased in angry red lines, clear indications that he was crying. Katsuki watched, waited for you to show any kind of that self-righteous pity, the kind he saw in Midoriya’s eyes, the kind that he full-heartedly loathed. But it never came, all he could see is patience and quiet succor, waiting for him to say his piece. “What happened, Katsuki?” You repeated. The addition of his given name softened him up way too much for his own comfort.

Fuck it. He blew off at the mouth, releasing all his frustrations and insecurities in one breath. Katsuki was screaming, shouting and yelling to his heart’s content. And you listened, not once did you intervene his venting session. When his voice became scratchy, his eyes watering again and not a coherent word came out of his mouth, that’s when you decided to step in. His unintelligible ramblings were cut off as you engulfed him in a tight hug.

“Listen to me, Katsuki. And I want you to listen good,” The words were whispered right into his ear, as if you were trying to push them directly through his subconscious. He stood there, stiff as a board as he took in your response, your arms holding him securely. “You’re strong and smart and hardworking, I know that better than anyone else. But you’re not flawless; nobody is, and that’s not a bad thing, its not a weakness. Tell me, don’t you want to be the strongest hero of them all? The best? The number one?” He, in a very uncharacteristic and meek fashion, gave you a single nod. “Then knowing your flaws and working on them is essential to that, don’t ya think? Losses, right now, aren’t weaknesses, Katsu. They’re steppingstones. You’re still learning, you still have so much room for improvement, and you can only improve by working on your flaws, yeah?”

Your voice was so gentle, so comforting, hands rubbing at his tense shoulders and back. He couldn’t help but wrap his muscled arms around you too, nodding his head as he planted it closer to the crook of your neck. Katsuki kept you in that position for god knows how long, breathing in your scent while letting your words sink in. He briefly contemplated the possibility of you having a quirk. A quirk that let’s you say the right things at the right time because goddamn you knew just how to lift his spirits.

“Thanks, nerd.” It was so faint that had it not been uttered into your neck, you probably wouldn’t have heard it. He tightened his hold on you for a split second before he completely let go and walked to his front door, entering and shutting the door behind him without sparing you a second glance. He stepped in feeling much more relieved, elated even, but he didn’t understand the rapid beating of his heart, nor did he want to dwell on it. It’s probably from all the yelling anyway.

On the other side, you stood with a serene smile, humming lightly with jubilation.

“You’re welcome, Katsuki.”

He’d seek you out whenever he wanted to rant about that fucking nerd or the Half-n-Half bastard, and you listened to his every word, giving your own comments whenever you felt they were needed. Somehow, despite going to different schools, the separation seemed to draw you closer together. You’d frequent his room, study with him, play video games with him, and sometimes you’d just lay there, silently cherishing each other’s company. Then he had to leave for the U.A. training camp.

“Take care, Katsu,”

“Yeah, yeah,” Crimson eyes fell on your form, he adjusted the duffel bag strap on his shoulder. Shifting his weight from one leg to the other, Katsuki contemplated his next move, awkwardly staring at your face while his mind went into overdrive. For fuck’s sake. You watched him curiously as he huffed aggressively, stomping over to you. He roughly pulled you into an embrace, if you could even call it that; it felt like he was trying to suffocate you.

“Stay safe, dumbass.” He grumbled, ending the affectionate gesture as soon as it had started.

It was supposed to be a get away resort to enhance the students’ quirks, but they got way more than they’d bargained for. You stayed up all night, gaze trained on the news channel as more and more updates filed in. They took him. They kidnapped him. Staring with tears in your eyes at the sight before you, blue flames licking at what was supposed to be a secret location. Your heart was palpitating wildly in your chest.

“Izuku!” The whole class turned around at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. You quickly shuffled past them, almost throwing yourself at Midoriya’s frame on the hospital bed. You cried into his chest, agony bleeding from your eyes as you pleaded, begged for him.

“Bring him back, please. Bring back our Kacchan, Izuku!” If his hands weren’t in casts, he would’ve clutched you impossibly closer. He was the only one who knew of your feelings for his childhood friend and seeing you like this added more fuel to the fire of determination in his eyes.

A week had passed, Katsuki was rescued and he hadn’t said a word to you since his arrival. You figured he needed time to think but god did you miss him, all you could think about is being in his arms, his presence, hearing his voice, anything that could assure you he was still here, alive and safe.

Late into the night, you couldn’t catch a wink of sleep, too preoccupied with the aftermath of everything that had happened one week ago. There was a knock at your door. Your parents were well asleep, so you were left to see who would be here at this ungodly hour. Looking through the small peephole, your eyes caught sight of spiky ash blonde hair. The door was swung open, Katsuki didn’t have time to react before you flung yourself at him and he nearly lost his balance from the impact. He’d never seen you this shaken up (you were always so calm and collected) and it fucking hurt so you like this, because of him, because he wasn’t strong enough, because his weak ass couldn’t save himself-

“I missed you so much, K-Katsuki,” You were sniffling and hiccupping all over his shirt, but he couldn’t care less about that. His attention was drawn to you, the state you were in, he didn’t even return your hug, all he could think about was how pathetic and weak he was. Immediately, you picked up on his lack of reaction, how his head was bowed in shame, how his hands limply hung at his sides. You’d seen him in this exact position countless times before and you knew what you had to do. Sat on your couch, the silence was deafening, vastly different to the air of tranquility you usually shared. Katsuki decided to speak first.

“It was my fault–”

“Katsu–”  

“Let me finish.” You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from interjecting his speech. But god, it was so hard to keep quiet when he was berating himself like this. He poured his heart out to you, each word so damning, so broken. Every syllable that fell from his lips cut through you; you couldn’t bear to see him like this. You could only imagine the sheer anguish lurking inside him, his idol retired to save him, even just the thought made your chest hurt. Tears painted his face, yours too. By the time he’d gone mute, you had him in your grip, rocking him gently as you tried to recollect your thoughts.

“Katsuki,” You started, voice faint and barely a whisper. “I don’t know exactly what happened there, but… if there is anyone to blame for this, it’s the villains,” His head was buried in your chest, tears still cascading down his face and into the material of your shirt. “And honestly, I don’t think anything you could have done would have changed the outcome at all. You don’t give yourself enough credit, Katsu. If anyone else was in your place, I doubt it would’ve changed anything for the better. Honestly, I feel like this was probably the best case scenario, it’s still shitty but at least you’re alive and safe. All Might’s alive, your classmates are all safe. All the damage was the villains’ fault, not yours. Please don’t beat yourself up over this, it was out of your control…” Your voice trembled as another barrage of water conquered your eyes. Your hands ran through his soft follicles, trying to soothe the hurricane that was stampeding through both of you.

That strange sensation in his gut began to arise again as you shed tears of empathy for him, the beating in his heart accelerating considerably. You remained that way, in each other’s embrace, until you both fell into slumber and your parents woke you up the next day. As Bakugo said his goodbye to you and watched you close the door with a stupidly cute bedhead, he realized something. Something that explained the annoying flutter of his heart whenever you called him that stupid nickname, the overwhelming desire to be near you at all times and why he only ever let you break through his defense, bringing down his fortified walls brick by brick.

Katsuki facepalmed.

“Great. Now you’ve gone and fallen in love with her, you fucking imbecile.”

After his move to the U.A. dorms, your rendezvous had become a lot less frequent. He found himself thinking about you way more than he’d like to admit, unbeknownst to him you were thinking about him just as much, if not more. You’d send him a text daily asking how he was, fussing over his well-being and making sure he’s okay. And the times you did meet up, things would be… off with him. With the revelations about his own feelings recognized (finally), Katsuki found himself noticing small things about you, ticks and habits most people wouldn’t bat an eye at, but he did. He found himself struggling not to blush whenever you shared a goodbye hug, or when you would lean over to look at his notebook during your study sessions, coming dangerously close to his face. You’d picked up on his change of attitude too but didn’t comment on it. It sent butterflies soaring in your chest, head high above the clouds every time that adorable pink would grace his devilishly handsome face, yet you couldn’t risk it. What you had with Katsuki was precious to you but also to him, you didn’t want to ruin one of the only true friendships he had for the sake of your own feelings.

Katsuki finally grew the balls to tell you (after an onslaught of teasing from the Baku-squad when they caught wind of his crush). He was over at your place for the weekend, you spent the whole day playing video games (ahem getting your ass kicked), watching crappy horror movies and just enjoying each other’s company. He loosened up the more time went on, reminding himself to savor every waking moment with you by his side, never again would he take you for granted.

You were on your third horror film, competing to see who would get scared first. The plot in this one wasn’t all that horrible if you were being honest, it had completely captivated you, so much so that you couldn’t see the smirk on Katsuki’s face or how his hand had sneaked around the back of the couch to reside behind your shoulders, waiting for the right moment to strike. The scene was building up to a climax, Katsuki side eyed you as you leaned forward, too engulfed in the movie to be aware of your surroundings. And then–

“AHHH!”

An all too embarrassing shriek left your throat, you’d never live that one down. Katsuki was laughing his ass off as your brain tried to register what had just happened. And when it finally clicked, you were ready to beat his ass into oblivion. Jumping into his lap without thinking about it, you began throwing punches at his chest (that honestly felt like getting tickled to him), which substantially increased his laughter until there were tears in his eyes. “You asshole! why would you do that?!” Your indignant cry only served to make him laugh harder until he sounded like a seal doing a mating call. His atypical glee was contagious and you found yourself chuckling along, hands no longer jabbing at his pecs, rather resting peacefully over them, feeling his chortles in overwhelming detail.

When the dust had settled and your chuckles died down, both of you became infinitely conscious of the position you were in. Both of your faces suddenly aflame with realization. When you went to break the close proximity between you, he surprised both of you by securing his hands on your hips, keeping you in place. The fiery red adorning his cheeks was a comical contrast to the determined scowl on his face. His knuckles were turning white as he dug his digits into your sides, steeling himself.

“(n-name), I like you… a lot,” Katsuki wished he could stare at anything but your face, yet he forced himself to watch your reaction. “I-I wanna be more than friends–”

Not another letter passed through his lips before you molded them with your own, sealing that as your response. His hands relaxed a bit, moving up to your waist and kneading the soft skin there. When you pulled a part, you’ll never forget the sight of the small grin of genuine elation on his face, not taking a second to reciprocate it.

[auncyen]

So a long time ago I wrote a start of a fic where Ryuji gets knocked out from Shido's explosion and is thrown back into the real world, unconscious. Ren brings him to Takemi's clinic and then answers Ryuji's phone when he realizes Mama Sakamoto is calling, attempting to make some kind of cover story for Ryuji not coming home or answering his phone before it becomes apparent she ID'd Ryuji from the video calling card. She's coming over to the clinic, and she wants answers.

AND THAT'S WHERE IT STALLED FOREVER. If anyone would like to take a look at what I have of part 2, where she gets to the clinic:

Ren was in the middle of sending an update to the group chat when the door to the clinic opened. The woman who walked in was short and dark-haired, and Ren had the split-second impulse to ask her if she had a real emergency--god knew he didn't want anything drawing Takemi's attention away from Ryuji right now--before her eyes landed on him with a look of such contempt that Caroline might have asked for tips.

The text for the group chat was forgotten. It would have only been to report that there was nothing to report yet. "Sakamoto-san?" he hazarded, his voice wavering.

"Where," she said flatly, "is my son."

He didn't know why it should have thrown him off so much that her hair wasn't bleached blond--of course it wasn't. But even besides that, she really didn't look like Ryuji at all. Short, somewhat stout, with a wider nose and other differences in the face...when it came to looks, Ryuji must have taken after his father's side.

Ren immediately knew he'd rather eat one of his daggers than say that to either mother or son.

"Sakamoto-san," Takemi said, emerging from the back. "Your son is in here. He suffered a concussion and Amamiya-kun brought him to me for examination." Her tone was a bit more polite than her usual, if still casual, and Ren appreciated that maybe she was trying to pull his fat from the fire.

"I want an explanation for all of this," Sakamoto-san said angrily. "...But I want to see him, first."

Ah. Now Ren saw the family resemblance, both in her expression and her protectiveness.

Takemi nodded, opening the door for Sakamoto-san to go in. Ren started to rise from his seat, wanting to see Ryuji himself, but a flat look from the doctor stopped him cold. She didn't want him following.

Logically, he knew Takemi was simply keeping things orderly and controlled. Ryuji's mother was upset, and Takemi knew she was mad at him already. Better to keep him out of the room if Sakamoto-san might take any of Takemi's news badly.

But the feeling that stirred in his gut was blame and guilt, making him cover his face with his hands after the door had closed. He felt sick.

He couldn't deny his responsibility. It had been his idea to stall in the safe room instead of immediately stealing Shido's treasure after Futaba broadcasted the calling card. If stalling had been the deciding factor in Shido being able to manipulate his own cognition and cause the violent collapse... Then it was completely his fault.

He shouldn't even care about what Ryuji's mother thought of him, anyway. That could wait until after Ryuji had woken up. But the cold way she'd looked at him hurt, pathetically enough. He'd really hoped that she would like him. Mostly because Ryuji was afraid she'd be upset when he came out to her--she'd asked a couple of times about him getting a girlfriend. Ren was hopeful, considering she'd supported her son through thick, thin, and hair bleach, and might only be asking about girlfriends because Ryuji was way more vocal about his interest in cute girls than cute guys, but he understood Ryuji's fear. There was always the chance that it would be the one thing too far. So he'd wanted to make a good impression on her when they met, hoping it'd help her accept it better whenever Ryuji was ready to come out.

But Ren had also just...selfishly wanted Ryuji's mother to like him. He'd wanted to make a good impression on her because Ryuji always lit up when he talked about her, and she sounded like a great mom, and Ren wanted someone like that to look at him and think that he could be a decent match for her son. That he was a good kid.

Well. He'd fucked that up already. He pressed his fingers against his closed eyes, forcing a deep breath as he tried to press the tears back. This wasn't the time for being weak and selfish. He had to worry about Ryuji waking up first. Then he could worry about making sure Ryuji wasn't grounded forever, and that he wasn't strangled for endangering Ryuji.

Except that still left him with nothing he could do for the time being.

He felt so useless. He wished he could have taken Ryuji to Shibuya station. If he could have just gotten him to the entrance of Mementos with Morgana, the two of them might have been able to heal Ryuji. But they hadn't been sure if cognitive healing would help when someone was plain knocked out cold in the real world; bringing him to the clinic had seemed the safer bet. But now...

Ren groaned. First he'd left Akechi behind a solid wall of metal on a ship that was now sunk. And now, Ryuji...

Takemi was speaking to Ryuji's mother in the room at length, and Ren rested his head against the wall, hoping to hear through it. Good news? Bad news? He could only hear her tone, calm and level. Takemi wasn't the type to sugarcoat, but she still highlighted better outcomes when they were possibilities to her patients. She'd said once that people often had improved outcomes if they were given attentive care and thought they should get better. She called it a placebo effect. Morgana called it the power of cognition.

But since Ryuji wasn't conscious, he didn't know he was being treated by one of the best doctors in Tokyo. That he should get better and just please wake up.

Ryuji's mother didn't seem any happier when Takemi opened the door for her to step back out into the waiting room. Ren felt his whole body stiffen when Takemi closed the door again, half-expecting to be screamed at, but Ryuji's mother just stared him down. When she spoke, her voice was tightly controlled. "So you're the leader of the Phantom Thieves. What must your parents think?"

"My parents?" he echoed.

She laughed, but it sounded more disbelieving than genuine. "You think they don't know? I recognized Ryuji plain as day under that weird skull-mask. Yours shows even more of your face. Do they actually approve of all this?"

That was a question he hadn't even considered recently, and he weighed what honest answer he could give her that didn't sound self-pitying. No, he didn't think they knew at all. They didn't have reason to look at the calling card too closely. Didn't have any suspicions about his after school activities, or any clue that he wasn't even in school for the time being. Ryuji's phone had several voicemails from his mother tonight alone. Ren's phone hadn't rang once tonight, and it had been a while since he had gotten a message from either his father or mother.

He was taking too long to answer; something in Sakamoto's expression shifted. "I don't have their approval," he said quickly, before she could get further upset. "I act for my own sense of justice."

"An' you dragged Ryuji right along into it," Sakamoto said.

That wasn't quite accurate, but Ren nodded anyway. "...Yes." It had a grain of truth to it: Igor had given the app to him. Ryuji would never have been thrown into the metaverse if he hadn't run into Ren. And it would be better to just get this over with. Take her anger and her blame. It was his fault she was upset.

Ryuji's mother took a long, deep breath. "What happened?"

"It's...hard to explain."

"Sure, you steal hearts and desires and whatnot. I still want an explanation," she pressed.

...He had no idea if she'd be patient enough for an explanation of the Metaverse. He'd bet on not. So he described the situation in broad strokes: "The group was in trouble. Ryuji took a risk to get us out safe. And he pulled it off. We could have all ended up dead if it wasn't for him." Futaba didn't know how to swim. Even for the rest of them, the waters had been turbulent enough that Ren didn't think their odds would have been good, not when they'd also had to navigate to their entrance point in the dark of night, already exhausted from a grueling fight. Perhaps some of them would have made it out...he doubted it would have been all of them. "But he got hurt. I'm--I'm sorry. It's my fault we were in that position."

"Why?"

"I...made the group wait before we changed Shido's heart. I was hoping..." Ren's voice shook, and the rest of the words failed to come.

He'd been hoping Akechi would show up. If Akechi had been alive, no matter if he was hiding somewhere in the Palace or trying to stay under the radar in Tokyo, as soon as they'd took over the airwaves with their calling card and set the Palace's security to high alert, Akechi would know. He would know they were taking Shido's heart. He would know that they would be in the Palace.

He could have joined them. So Ren had asked everyone to wait for an hour in one safe room as he warped between all of them and entrance, checking to see if Akechi would manage to drag himself in. Ann and Ryuji had both volunteered to help, and he'd been grateful, but he figured it was better if everyone else stayed together so they weren't split up between several different locations. When he hadn't spotted Akechi in the hour, he'd come back to the group and asked Futaba if she could do a scan for him--a last-ditch request, since she had every right to refuse to help.

Futaba had looked absolutely miserable. She'd already tried multiple scans. There was nothing. Ren had made everyone wait for nothing. He should have known it was too much to hope after Akechi had closed himself off behind the door. He'd only given Shido more time to counter.

"We were missing one," Ren said finally. Maybe Akechi would have objected to being counted as one of the group, but it was the simplest way to explain now. And he...wasn't going to object, anyway. "I made the group wait, but they never showed."

"They in some kind of trouble?"

The question surprised him a little, but this wasn't a subject he wanted to dwell on any longer. "Nothing I can help with," Ren said.

-and that's it so far.

And I'm just kind of......unsure where to go from there. Which makes me wonder if I should have started the dialogue differently or change something else earlier or...what.

[rentsturner]

Sweet Dreams | Obi Wan Kenobi

Request: A lil’ request since I imagined my 4’11 self with Obi-Wan who can easily carry me to my quarters after a long day while training with him, and he just lays me down onto my bed, kisses my forehead or cheeks while he strokes my hair, saying “sleep now, little one, I love you” 🥺🥺🥺 // @chogisss

warnings: nothing really, just some tooth rotting fluff and a dash of pining can you tell I’m touchstarved and lonely , a tiny bit of angst

word count: 1.7k

a/n: I wanted to get this request done and I did really enjoy writing it, but be warned it was fueled by my insomnia hence the constant references to being tired 😂 I apologise for any mistakes and I hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think..

‘Concentrate!’

Obi-Wan’s voice cut through your breathless haze, the sharpness of his tone jarring you into reality. Your eyes widened as you sensed the fist flying towards your face, steady, calculated; a classic manoeuvre from one Obi-Wan Kenobi.

You managed to duck just in time and roll across the training room floor, away from the attack.

‘You're not concentrating! This is why you need more hand to hand practice, my love.’

Obi smirked teasingly as he stalked towards you. He was relaxed, languid almost, but you knew that behind his nonchalant demeanour Obi was coiled like a spring, always ready, always thinking of his next move. He was an experienced warrior and it showed. Your late night training sessions with him had improved your skills massively, despite only having had them for a week so far.

Obi was a harsh training partner, wanting to get the best out of you with every practice. You appreciated his efforts, you really did. But it was hard work, and the late nights were beginning to get to you.

You clashed again. Jab, duck, kick, jab, parry, roll, the cycle repeated over and over again, the exchange of blows like a conversation between your bodies. You knew each other well, inside and outside of the training room, every curve and plane of your body ingrained in Obi’s brain, just as the give and feel of Obi’s skin and muscle was imprinted in yours. You could predict the familiar pattern of your partner’s attack, able to read each other’s actions like a storybook, blocking’s punches before they were even thrown.

You held up Obi’s attack well, neither of you able to gain the upper hand. A strong hit sent you reeling suddenly, and you both pulled back to catch your breath, panting and sweating.

Obi circled you, prowling, cat-like, but still ready like a coiled spring. His tousled hair had fallen into his eyes and he pushed it back quickly with a steady hand, the action second nature to him. How he looked this good after hours of training you would never know, auburn hair darkened with sweat, a glint of something dangerous in his eyes, yet that easy grin was always there, showing a questionable amount of teeth. But he looked good. The man was a god, that was the only explanation.

No, you thought, no distractions.

‘Give up, Obi, you’ve had enough, I can tell.’

His chuckled lowly, his eyes shining, completely comfortable in the heat of a battle, even if it was just training.

‘Oh, darling, I could do this all day,’

That dreaded smirk crept across his face again. ‘You really have no idea.’

His eyes flashed with mischief a split second before he lunged forward. Your sense through the force had let you down and, for once, you didn’t have time to react before Obi crashed into you, hands gripping your waist and his weight pushed you to the floor. Oh no.

Now his thighs were straddled over your hips, pinning you down securely. Bastard. He’s beaten you again.

The bastard in question looked down at you, a shit-eating grin spreading across his face as the realisation of his victory sunk in. Delight sparkles in his bright eyes and you smile before you could help yourself. The happiness radiating off him was just infectious.

‘What’s it like down there, little one?’

The smile was immediately wiped off your face as you worked to look annoyed, huffing loudly.

‘Shut up, Obi.’

‘I bet you love it.’ You could feel his hot breath tickling your neck as he leaned closer.

Well you were enjoying it actually, the position was warm, comfortable and it was unsurprisingly pleasant to have Obi’s muscled frame hanging over you, his chest almost brushing yours as he took in deep breaths. But he didn’t need to know that.

You reached and pushed his chest back so he was once again perched upright over you. He frowned slightly, searching your face for any signs of playfulness, but there was nothing there.

‘You’re tired.’ he hummed, pushing the strands of auburn hair back from his forehead again.

‘I’m really tired.’ you confirmed with another sigh.

The pale skin around Obi’s eyes crinkled as he smiled fondly down at you. All traces of competitiveness had disappeared now that the session was over, replaced by a warm feeling of content that filled your chest and bubbled in your throat as you hazily took in the man above you. Your eyes locked with Obi’s and you could feel the same emotions running through his body too, the sensation pulsing steadily across your force connection.

The temptation to kiss him there and then flashed through your mind, but as you leaned up to get closer, the muscles in your back screamed in agony, hours of use and wear catching up with you now.

Obi noticed the grimace of pain appear on your face and he frowned again, smoothing your hair back from your face in a comforting manner.

‘I’m sorry, darling,’ he chuckled softly, ‘I think I may have worked you too hard.’ There was still a subtle teasing lilt to his voice, but you chose to ignore it, the fatigue and pain dimming your awareness slightly.

‘No, no, I think it’s just my back, let me see,’ you countered, not willing to admit too much weakness. After such a simple defeat, that would just be adding insult to injury.

You stood shakily, reaching for your water, but your legs were like jelly, muscles protesting at the movement and you stumbled as the pain shot through you. But Obi’s hand was already steady on the small of your back, the other skimming your shoulder, supporting you so you wouldn’t fall.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t just your back. Tiredness was creeping up on you, eyelids beginning to droop and a yawn forcing its way out your mouth. The effects of a whole week of intense late night training were finally taking their toll on you.

Obi whispered in your ear again, but this time the tone was caring, not teasing.

‘Here, my love. Let me help you.’

He gently scooped you up in his arms. The fatigue had come over you like a tidal wave and you were too exhausted to argue, instead wrapping your arms around his neck and allowing yourself to melt into his warm tunic.

He grabbed your cloaks from the corner and headed towards the door.

‘I really am sorry if I’ve worked you too hard the past few days, love.’

‘S’okay, Obi, don’t worry ‘bout it.’ you mumbled faintly into his chest.

He was so soft and warm and Maker he smelt amazing: an intoxicating mixture of cinnamon and pine.

‘Hey, don’t go falling asleep yet, I’ve got to get you to bed first.’ Obi whispered.

There was no reply from you, only a quiet sigh and Obi rolled his eyes fondly. He moved down the corridors as quickly as he could. The temple was fairly quiet at this time of the night but there was still that lingering worry in the back of Obi’s head, the fear of being caught. He was almost sure that the sight of you half asleep and clinging to his torso would be seen as attachment.

Which of course it was. How could his love for you not be. This burning hot love, so tender yet so strong, this love that consumed him like a wildfire and flooded his mind like a tsunami, how could this not be attachment?

In fact it was more than that, more than just a connection, physical or emotional. It was like you were part of each other, two sides of the same whole, predicting each other’s thoughts, ideas. Obi had noticed it more than ever during the training sessions, how you would know were his leg or arm was heading before he even moved. It was something powerful. You two were a force to be reckoned with. If only you could concentrate, Obi mused silently.

He reached your quarters and nudged the door open, pushing his elbow firmly against the light switch in an attempt to chase away the darkness without jostling you. Obi crouched by your bed and lowered you gently onto the soft sheets.

‘Let go, sweetheart.’ he murmured, as your arms were still clinging to his neck. When no response came his way, Obi delicately pried your hands away, placing a soft kiss on each of your knuckles before laying your arms down.

He leant back, causing a small whimper to escape your mouth, a reaction to the loss of contact. Obi hushed you gently, pulled the sheets around your shoulders and tucking them in securely.

His lips glided over your forehead, pressing a chaste kiss there, before moving down to your cheeks, placing a gentle kiss on each one, his eyelashes brushing your skin as he leant down. A peck on your nose, each touch a silent ‘I love you’ and then finally his lips on yours, tender, gentle, comforting.

You hummed softly, drifting in and out of consciousness as your mind dipped beneath the waves of sleep.

A hand stroked your hair carefully, drifting down over your shoulder, brushing featherlight over your forearm.

‘Sleep well, little one.’

Obi backed slowly away from your bedside, quietly flicking off the light. He looked back at your sleeping form. Should he stay? Should he curl up with you until the morning and kiss all of your aches away? He wanted to, with every fibre of his being.

But he couldn’t risk it, as much as he wanted to. You looked peaceful and he wanted to keep you that way.

‘Sweet dreams.’

He turned away and the door clicked shut.

{tags : @doublesunsets @afogocado @corellians-only @stardancerluv @rosionis @kuailiangs @goldenkenobi @karasong @mcgorgeous-ewan @crazycatladyjenga @thespareoom } pls tell me if you do/don’t want to be tagged 💞

[toloveawarlord]

Ch. 1

Characters: Coralie Van Alst, Mozart, Comte

Tagging: @plumpblueberry​ (Please let me know if you want to be tagged)

A/N: Finally another Ikevamp oc! This was the most voted for in the interest check on the 25 Days of Christmas Voting! Thank you to everyone who voted for this oc! Enjoy the first chapter of my little musician and her unknowing meeting of her favorite composer!

Another event. Night after night, the teenager could be found in a lavish dress, violin case in her left hand, and her benefactor, Grant, hovering behind her, speaking to clients interested in her talents. His rules were absolute.

One: Don’t speak unless prompted.

Two: Every performance shall be perfection.

Three: Always please the clients

Four: No outside relations beyond the job.

She’d never known others her own age. Her education lacking, only taught basic reading and writing along with etiquette. Music took up most of her days, whether practice or event. Her talent coveted by many, but they never acknowledged the work that she put in.

“Ah, Comte! What a wonderful party. We greatly appreciate the invitation. Your pianist, Wolfram, I’d like to have him play a duet with my Coralie.” His hands rested on the young girl’s shoulders.

The regal man he spoke to gave an empty smile until his golden eyes met the mismatched amethyst and blue ones, where it turned quite warm. “Monsieur DuPont, I was unaware you had a daughter.”

Grant chuckled, digging his fingers into her bared skin when she didn’t immediately return the friendly smile. “No. This lovely, gifted violinist is sadly not of my blood. I am simply showcasing her talent here in Paris.”

“I see. However, I do not dictate whom Wolfram plays with, but I am more than willing to introduce her to him. That is, if you’d like.���

The tension was thick in the air between the two powerful men. Most groveled in the great Grant DuPont’s presence. This man was quite different. Coralie dare not check to see how her benefactor reacted to Comte’s veiled pleasantries. 

The musician they spoke of had been researched, like all with potential to leverage for the young girl to be seen by the most patrons. Wolfram Theophillius Perti. He’d been compared to the likes of Mozart. Coralie had yet to hear him play, but if he were in the same league, then for the first time, she actually wanted to meet him.

Most of those she played with were subpar, and she preferred to play alone, but she could never voice those opinions.

Thank them with a smile. Stroke their ego. Laugh at their cruel jokes.

Being a musician in this world was hard work, competitive. Many believed it not a place for women, much less a child. Some were unkind to her, jealous of her ability, of how a fifteen-year-old could play circles around them.

Always be charming, my dear. Dazzle them with your performance so no one can argue that you don’t belong.

The words of her father echoing in the back of her mind, bringing a small amount of comfort.

Grant smiled tensely but relented. He placed a sloppy kiss on her temple, all his affection for show. “Do take good care of my lovely Coralie. She’s very precious to me.” His tone light but she recognized it for what it was.

She was a commodity that brought him fame and fortune.

“I certainly will. Mademoiselle Coralie, I will escort you to Wolfram.”

With a soft thank you, she fell in step beside Comte. Eyes followed her wherever she went. Envy. Intrigue. Lust. Many high-class gentlemen wanted something from her, but never directly addressed her in fear of angering DuPont.

Somehow, it felt as though it wasn’t just her, they were watching.

“I haven’t had the pleasure of hearing you play, but the talk among my friends is all high praise. Are you from Paris?” He’d heard many things. The young girl having only been here for a half a year and yet all social circles knew of her.

“No, Monsieur. My homeland is Belgium. Monsieur DuPont has been most gracious to house me and guide me in performing while I am here.” Always praise the one who has done so much for her family. 

Comte hummed in response. He’d never liked the man. Too many rumors of his mistreatment of his wards, throwing them away when they were no longer useful. How long would it be until this young girl became nothing to him? “Ah, Wolfram, a moment please.”

The gaggle of men and women around the musician scattered at their arrival. Although he smiled at her, she knew how empty it was. Forced, just pleasant enough, and never reaching his eyes. He listened to Comte’s introduction, to the reason she’d been brought to him. Mozart hadn’t the opportunity to respond before Comte was called away by another gentleman. Left with only the girl, he politely declined, “I’ve completed my obligation to play for the evening. Perhaps another time.”

Coralie suspected that to be a placation. The pianist had no intention of playing another time. “Please reconsider. It would be advantageous to duet with me.”

“Advantageous? I’m in no need of benefactors or patrons. Of what advantage would it be to me?” Mozart lost his facade for a split second. His violet eyes narrowed then softened. There were far too many people within earshot. “Forget the question. I simply do not play with partners.”

Yes, she’d discovered that in her research.

It’s of no consequence. You perform a duet.

Her benefactor would be quite upset if she didn’t get this man to agree. Who could say what he might do to her family? “I understand. Most in our profession do not have the aptitude for an impromptu performance.”

“Precisely-”

“I am not one of them,” Coralie said, bringing her mismatched eyes up to meet his gaze. If he’d been anyone else, she would not push so hard. But she needed to hear him play, to know if he was worthy of being compared to the great Mozart. “None of them possess my skill. Please perform one song with me.” Coralie bent forward into a pleading bow, one thing that she was not allowed to do.

Being polite, gentle, quiet-- those were her instruction.

Never bow to those with inferior skill for that will only make you appear desperate.

If Grant were watching her, he’d surely be incredibly displeased. He likely wouldn’t understand why she felt the need to. Coralie had to make Wolfram understand how much she wanted to play with him.

“One song.” His voice low, filled with irritation, but it brought her attention up to his sour features. Mozart might admire how brazen the child was, and perhaps he relented because she reminded him of his human self. “One song and then you will never approach me again.”

A single chance was all she needed to prove her worth.

The pair didn’t speak as they prepared. Mozart took a seat on the bench; violet irises observed the practiced and careful way she took the violin from the case. The way she’d lit up at his song choice confused him.

Mozart’s Sonata 16 in C Major, first movement, do you know it?

Of course, she was well versed in all Mozart’s songs. He was her favorite composer to study and practice. Coralie rested against the chinrest, waiting for his first note. She felt the violin as an extension of her own body.

The crowd grew silent as they began, allowing the melody to flow around the room like the wind, gentle and constant. The strings caressed her fingers, sound pure and sweet. It mixed seamlessly with the rich, crisp tune of the piano. Two complete strangers in perfect harmony.

It was a reintroduction. Words failed to establish common ground. It was in their playing, their ability to create beautiful music, that they could begin to understand each other. Wielding their instruments was like barring their soul.

They complimented each other, piano and violin intertwining like polished dance partners gracefully gliding across a ballroom floor. They’d captured every ear, every heart with a poised rendition of Mozart’s Sonata.

It was only once the song came to a close that Coralie returned to the real world, applause erupting. Truly, this man was most incredible, like no other she’d been forced to duet with. He commanded the keys like a captain steering a ship through a deadly storm; firm and unrelenting, not afraid of the powerful sound. But he also contained a gentleness, making the ivory keys sing as the birds at the dawn of a new day.

Socialites swarmed around him, flocked to her. Their chatter equivalent to nails on a chalkboard to Coralie. She safely secured her violin in the case before slipping out to the balcony. She wanted to ingrain that performance to her memory.

The girl swam in the melody so fresh within her. Her body alight with chills. Never had a duet affected her so, sounded so alluring. This night would become one of her most treasured.

“It wasn’t unbearable. Although, I’d say you’ve plenty of room to improve.” Wolfram’s voice grounded her back in the world void of their dazzling melody. He didn’t make a habit of chasing after other musicians, but this girl... “You deviated from the song as written.”

“It complimented the original composition,” she countered.

“Irrelevant. You should always play as the composer intended.”

Coralie turned her gaze up to the night sky. The stars crowded between the gray clouds twinkled in applause. “I pay no attention to anybody’s praise or blame. I simply follow my own feelings.”

Silence followed her statement.

“No one can say what he intended, but he was right. Music is deeply rooted, entangled, in feeling. Any simpleton with a few lessons can play the notes on the page. What makes a true musician is the ability to breathe real, raw, emotion into the song, don’t you think?” Coralie turned to face him, a tender smile on her lips. There were few who could understand why she felt that way.

Mozart hadn’t the chance to respond. He’d been quite shocked at her enlightened view on music. It was rare to find such passionate sentiment with one as talented as her. He would have not hated having a discussion, but the young violinist swayed on her feet, lashes brushing against her pale cheeks.

He barely caught her when she fell unconscious.

[starlightsearches]

Hi there can I please request a Hux x nurse!reader? I just rlly want a lot of fluff bcs I recently rewatched TROS and I felt sad again bcs of hux's fate. Thanks owo

For Good Luck

Of course! IDK if this is as fluffy as you wanted, but I kind of ran with it, and I think that the ending is nice and soft! Hope you like it 😊

Requests are closed for now, but will be opening again very soon ✨

Armitage Hux x Nurse! Reader

Warnings: Language, an injury and some medical care including needles!

“He’s asked for you again,” Tayan says in a sing-song voice, and you look away from him to hide your reaction. It’s no secret—to you or anyone else working in the medbay—that the general prefers you over the others. The real secret is why he prefers you, which is something you’re not really sure about either.

“What’s he here for?” you ask, leaning over the workstation to get a look at the report on the data pad, but he hides it from your view.

“Split lip and a bruised ego,” Tayan says with a shit-eating grin, “do you think you can kiss it better?” He bats his eyelashes in mock innocence, and you shove him in the shoulder, rolling your eyes. You’ve told him before—sworn on your life—that it wasn’t like that, had never even come close to that, and he still wouldn’t believe you. Not that the truth is any more believable.

“How’d it happen?” you ask, changing the subject, still trying to peek at the screen.

“Haven’t you heard?” he says, waggling his eyebrows at you. Tayan, you’ve learned since joining the Finalizer crew, is a terrible gossip. Those words come out of his mouth about as often as he breathes. Only half the information he imparts is actually true, but you don’t hold it against him. It is, after all, very entertaining.

“The Resistance escaped.” His expression darkens, any trace of laughter gone, an unfamiliar hardness set in his eyes.

“Holy shit,” you whisper, “are you serious?” He doesn’t have to respond. Not even Tayan would joke about something like that.

“The Supreme Leader was livid when he found out,” he continues, expression still grave, “I heard from Mina on the bridge that he threw the general into a wall.”

“Damn,” there’s not much else to say, and your heart breaks for the general, but you hope Tayan won’t see that as silence falls over the two of you for a moment, thinking about what might happen next. It’s times like this that make you grateful you’re not the one in charge.

“I guess the general’s been summoned to the Supremacy,” Tayan continues lightly, restored to his normal self, “but he had to say goodbye to his girlfriend first.” He drags the word girlfriend out like a little boy, and needles you in the side with his elbow when he says it. You flinch away from him, stifling a laugh. A comment like that doesn’t deserve a response, but you sink to his level anyway, flashing him a rude gesture before heading down to the exam rooms.

The prickling excitement begins at the base of your neck, and you force yourself to tamp it down. This is no time for flirting; obviously the general would be upset, and you’d have to be mindful of that. The flirting was mostly one-sided anyways, but occasionally you’d get a glimpse of something different, something softer. You lived for those glimpses.

When you first began working as a medbay attendant on the Finalizer, the general was essentially a myth. You never saw him, but you heard enough from the others to know that he didn’t like the medbay, and any time he was forced to come, well . . . everyone had a horror story, it seemed, and they all loved repeating them when shifts got slow. Personally, you had a hard time believing that the general could really be that bad, but that didn’t mean you had been excited when that asshole, Dr. Hebbit, had told you that it was your turn to perform the general’s quarterly check-up.

You had been certain that the others were playing a joke on you after the appointment. The general had been a model patient; the check up went smoothly as he obliged each of your requests without a word. When you finished, he had left with a curt nod, and that was it. The other medbay attendants had lost their shit when you told them that nothing had happened. Everyone had their own theory why the general hadn’t lashed out at you, but Tayan’s line of thinking had definitely been the most popular. Against your will, a little blossom of hope sprung up in your chest. 

Things only got stranger. After that first meeting, the general was in and out of the medbay on a regular basis, always for minor complaints, and always when you were working. You tried not to think too much of it, but that didn’t stop you from lighting up every time you heard that he needed your help.

And then once, just as you were cleaning up, you felt him behind you. Every part of you was on high alert, addicted to the tension but forced to ignore it as you washed your hands. 

“Thank you for your service today,” he said, and one of his hands came forward—still without touching you—fingering a tendril of hair that had slipped out from where you had secured it. He placed it back behind your ear, and you shuddered, tempted to lean back into him—so that you could feel him there, so you would be sure you weren’t hallucinating. And then he was gone. 

Moments like that happened a few more times, and every time they occupied an even larger part of your mind. It was enough to drive you insane, but no matter how much you wanted it, nothing more had happened. That didn’t stop you from imagining what it would be like. 

You clear your mind as you enter the exam room, and there’s a stab of pain in your chest when you see him. He’s never looked this small before, his shoulders slumped as he studies the floor, but you clear your throat to announce your arrival, and his posture straightens.

“Hello General,” you say, adopting your typical bedside manner, “I’m here to take a look at your injury.” He nods, watching you with careful eyes as you scrub your hands and then put on a pair of exam gloves. There’s already a supply tray set up by the exam table, and you glance over it quickly, checking to make sure that you have everything that you’ll need. Once you’re sure that it’s all in order, you can get started.

“I’ll need to take a closer look,” you say, gently taking the general’s jaw into your hands with a glass-delicate grip, and he opens his mouth obediently so that you can see the wound. It’s a small gash on the inner corner of his mouth, dripping a steady stream of blood down his chin and onto his neck, and you catch yourself thinking about cleaning it off with your tongue.

Gross, you scold yourself, rolling your eyes, heat rising in your cheeks. That needs to stop.

“Something wrong?” the general asks, the muscles of his jaw flexing under your hands, and you stiffen in surprise.

“No, sir,” the words come out rushed, and you look away, hoping he can’t tell how embarrassed you are, “just something in my eye.” It’s a weak excuse, but he doesn’t question it, and you grab a wipe, clearing off the blood with gentle precision. He smells like mint, and antiseptic, and the coppery sting of blood—none of which you particularly like—but now you think it might be your new favorite combination. 

“The good news is that it's relatively small,” you continue, applying a little pressure to the wound to staunch the flow of blood, “but the bad news is that you’ll probably need at least one stitch to keep it closed. I’d use bacta, but I don’t think it will work very well in such a moist environment.” You cringe inwardly; it’s strange to talk about the general’s mouth, especially when you have a finger inside of it, but if he’s bothered, it doesn’t show. And if he likes it, that doesn’t really show either. 

“I can get a doctor to do it, if you’d prefer,” you offer, out of habit. You’d given plenty of stitches working the medbay, but most people were a little less trusting when you had a needle in their face. Still, the sharp sting of jealousy bites at your heart. You’d come to think of the general as your patient, and you’re not really interested in sharing.

“That’s not necessary,” he says, and you relax only for a moment before you’re tense again at the thought of getting that much closer to the general’s mouth.

“This will hurt,” you say, and the general nods. "Do you want anything for the pain?" Another shake of the head, and you thread the needle.

He shivers when you turn back, glancing at the needle out of the corner of his eye, but you don't think it's from fear. Gently, and with more feeling than you’d like, you stroke your thumb over his bottom lip, and they part once again. You get closer, adjusting yourself between the general’s legs so that you can have a better view of the area. It’s not strictly necessary, but it does improve your view just enough to be worth it.

You hold the general’s lip down with one hand, and approach with the needle in the other. Just as you’re about to break the surface of the skin, he stops you, gripping your wrist with one gloved hand. You practically jump out of your skin, the movement startles you so badly, and it’s only by sheer luck that you keep hold of the needle. He studies the inside of your arm, completely ignoring the confusion in your expression, and thumbs the edge of your glove away, exposing the veins right at the bend where your wrist meets your hand. He pulls your wrist closer, like he’s going to bite you, but instead he presses his soft lips to the exposed area, and your vision blurs around the edges. The blood rushes from your head, and your pulse explodes under the contact. Your knees threaten to buckle underneath you when you feel the faintest trace of his tongue run over your skin, but he grips your wrist more tightly, holding you up. 

Your face is on fire when he finally returns your gaze, and although his expression is calm and untroubled, there’s a blaze beneath it. He wants you. He’s made that perfectly clear.

“For good luck,” he says, releasing his grip, and you’re shaking, your mind gone hazy from the unexpected turn of events. How’re you going to pull a needle through his skin now? You close your eyes and take a few grounding breaths, waiting for the blood to return to your normally-steady fingers, but it’s difficult when you’re still thinking about his mouth.

By some miracle, you’re able to gain control once again with a superhuman amount of determination and the strict directive to avoid eye contact at all costs. Once you’ve accomplished that, the actual stitching is fairly easy, and you tie it off with a quick flourish.

“All done,” you say, dropping the needle on the tray and removing your gloves. Even though your hands are steady, your voice still shakes, and you’re not ready to look at him just yet. “Just make sure you don’t smile for a few days.” He snorts in response as he stands, and you scold yourself. Of course he wouldn’t be smiling. Not where he was going.

Thinking about it again brings the feeling of a knife blade to your heart. He would be leaving, this is the last time you’d see him in a long time, maybe forever. Another stab of pain arrives; that was why he finally made his desires clear. He knew this was his last chance.

“General, wait-” you call out, but to your surprise, he hasn’t left yet. In fact, he’s still right behind you, like he was waiting for this moment. The determination you had moments ago withers slightly and you find yourself looking up through your eyelashes, suddenly shy.

“Yes?” he asks, like he always knew you’d end up here, and you raise your hand, emboldened, fitting it behind his neck.

“For good luck,” you whisper, closing the gap. You press your lips gently to his, hoping to preserve the stitch, but the general doesn’t seem to care about that as he holds your face in both his hands, hunger apparent in every movement, need laid out before you. You know the stitch has to be pulling at the tissue, threatening to pop, and you taste the blood as his tongue meets yours, but all of it is so far outside your realm of concern right now. He’s kissing you back. Finally.

You part from him, reluctantly, as he pulls away from you, hoping for just one moment more. You know you’re doe-eyed when he looks at you, already cursing the heat in your cheeks, wishing you could be less-obviously enamored. Hating how much you care. The general looks indifferent, to your disappointment, there’s no trace of his visit to the medbay visible at all. Like you never existed. Moments ago you were rippling with happiness and now you’re left empty.

“I’m leaving for the Supremacy,” General Hux says, adjusting the perfect fit of his uniform, and you nod quickly. The sooner he leaves, the better. You don’t want him to see you cry. The traitorous tears come anyways, and you turn away from him, clearing off the supply tray and hoping he won’t notice. The act works so well, you almost don’t hear his next words. “I’d like for you to come with me, transfer to the medbay there.” You look at him again in surprise, and you see it: the softness he had only barely begun to show, there in full force.

“Do you anticipate needing much medical care, General?” You’re not sure if you mean it as a joke or if you’re searching for some kind of validation, but either way the general doesn’t laugh. No, instead he steps closer once again, tilting your gaze to meet his with a hand on your chin.

“No,” he says, “I just don’t want to go alone.” The reason doesn’t matter. You already know you’ll follow him anywhere.

[babiesdreams]

Superhuman +18 Chapter 1 [127]

Warnings: mentions of: blood, rape, traumas, gore (kind of)

Jungwoo’s story:

It’s always been in my blood, but I wasn’t aware of it at first. Maybe I should have noticed in the way my anger came out like a power bust sometimes. Maybe people around me should have noticed before. But now is too late to feel sorry about things.

It isn’t something bad to take advantage of your situations, to help your relatives, It shouldn’t be bad. 

The police’s siren marked the rythm of my heartbeats, but I tried to stay calmed, there was nothing suspicious about a young adult driving his car a few miles /metres away from a recently robbed bank. Not even if they cassually had a bag with a million dollars on the backseat. 

“Can I talk to you sir?” A tall policeman says tapping on my car’s window. “Yes” I politely reply, while I rolled the window down just enough for him to hear me. “Can we inspect your car? There’s been a robbery near by and we wanted to make sure-” My foot quickly stepped over throttle, to start driving through the busy streets. 

My mind was too focused on not driving into other cars that I almost forgot about my powers. After driving through three streets, I stopped the car completely, concentrating like I practiced. Everyone and everything freezed around me. Everything stopped, except me. 

I took my time to escape, as I had literally all the time on my hands. I was so scared of what could happen to me that I simply kept the world on pause for a whole month. Hours, days the all went through like nothing. 

I only stopped because my headaches were getting worse every minute, the pain was way too much to take, so I had to stop using my powers for a while. They eventually got me, and took me to prison, but luckily I could give the money to my family first. I hope they all can enjoy the life they deserved now.

I really hope so.

Taeyong’s story:

It’s always been a curse to me. I never felt normal, I was never normal I guess. I first noticed when I was five. My mom told me I was the best thing that happened to her, and the images passed through my head.

I was a product of a rape, and she tried her best to abort me, but it was too late, and then she just got used to it. She lost her job because of me, and all her friends left her. We moved to a new city and bills were trapping us in. I got to know that when I was only five.

Since then, I could always know when someone lied to me. I thought it was a stupid power, useless and harmful for myself, but it turned out to be harmful for others as well.

Knowing secrets is powerful, much more than what I thought. I got out a job because I knew the boss was cheating on his wife. I got a promotion because I knew a workmate was stealing stuff from the office.

I worked hard since I was fifteen to get to where I am, and I’m not gonna risk it all for a stupid project. I wasn’t gonna, but they have my mother, so I’m here to tell the truth. 

Yuta’s story:

When you’re like me, people misunderstand a lot of things. I was diagnosed with TDAH when I was three. Doctors said I lives a fast life, and that I should relax. They were simply wrong.

I live my life in between pills, xannys and all sorts of medication. But that shit only stops my body, my brain still works an 180% faster than the average human brain. My Iq was qualified as “untestable” and I’ve lives in labs my whole life.

Doctors wanted to figure out what caused my “disease” and they never stopped testing me. 

So I plotted an escape plan on a free hour I had. I faked eating the pills so that I could take back some of my physical speed, and then I left the lab, as fast as I could. When they realized I was out, I was already exactly 10.000 km away from them.

But I didn’t realize how freedom would get me lost, unpathed and really pityful. So I ended up taking drugs, which actually helped me getting some of my brain speed out, and be free of my own thoughts for a while. But drugs led me to a shameful path full of crimes.

Dongyoung’s story:

I’ve always lived apart from other humans. I was trapped into a jail, where the experimented with me. I never saw another human, not that I remembered. Everyone was so scared of my power I guess.

Nobody likes to be manipulated, but it’s something I couldn’t control. They made me believe I was a monster and I acted upon that. I never wanted to be harmful. But do you know how it feels to feel what others feel?

I get to feel others feelings constantly and they all get mixed up, and there’s so much anger in this world, and sometimes I can’t control that anger.

So yeah, maybe I manipulate people, but they made me feel bad first it’s just fair. I don’t want to feel this either.

When I escaped, everyone was too scared of me, I had to turn that into something less harmful, like, like exhaustion. I made them fall asleep, but I didn’t think about the consequences it all may have. 

So when I felt overwhelmed... well you know what happened... I also felt their sadness, the way their souls got out of their bodies, the way they cried their lungs out. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.

So I came here to learn how to control this.

Taeil’s story:

My powers came like something to be grateful for. My family were farmers, and the business kept going down. I still got the motivation to kept the farm going, and helping my family over the hardships of summer. 

I don’t even know how it happened. I guess I just grabbed a bunch of rotten tomatoes and picture them to be the best vegetables I could imagine, and It changed, taking the form I had in my head.

Of course I didn’t tell my parents how I got the perfectly looking vegetables and fruits, but it saved the business, and I kept on doing it until I realized it waisted too much of my energy. 

I want to make sure I can keep this going for more time until we get better, so I want to know how to improve with my powers.

Jaehyun’s story:

Transforming is never easy you know? The way I have to shape my body into something new and different from my original form, is not easy at all. I can transform myself into other humans, animals and even objects. 

It causes my body to get stiff sometimes, and even if the things I transform into are a perfect copy of reality they have certain limits. Human limits I guess. 

I remember this one time I turned into a plane, to escape from a robbery we did at a famous bank, it was kind of epic, but I ended up crashing into the ocean half way. 

The rest is kind of history, everyone knows me and my mate. Rest in peace. But now I want to take a good turn and use my powers for good.  That’s why I came here. But I must say I think I have what it’s needed to be a leader, so if we need a lead I think I can do it.

Mark’s story:

Okay so I was in middle school when this happened. I was too angry at my classmates, because they were always you know bullying me. So the thought came out of nowhere and I was just looking at the boy, and then his nose started bleeding a lot. 

I thought it was just a coincidence, until I bumped into that guy. Yo he was raping a girl, and I got too angry and I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know his veins would explode like that. 

He bleed out in front of my eyes, I will never forget how life escaped his eyes. But the girl kept saying I was a hero so I thought it wasn’t that bad you know. I had the good luck that I was wearing a costume for my theatre classes. 

Media named me as the bomb hero. They thought I used some sort of inner bombs, I don’t know honestly. I just want to control myself to have a normal life for once. 

Johnny’s story:

I thought they were healing powers at first. My mother was at the hospital when I first noticed. I wanted her to get back to normal, and I guess I did. The thing is that I have to know exactly what I want to do to the body.

I knew my mother needed that cancer out so I just pictured it out(? I don’t know how to explain I just did it and she got back at her normal self instantly. 

But It is also harmful, like my brother Mark, I can make organs and veins explode, or modify them as I want, tho I’mm better at healing.

We came here together because we wanted to live as a family, without feeling weird or different. And I feel like we can get that in here.

Donghyuck’s story:

I discovered my powers a week ago but you already know that, you also probably know that I’m the most powerful out everyone here, so I don’t get the point of sharing my story when you literally recruited me. 

972: Lee Donghyuk, it’s a formal aspect we all agreed on, please do as you were told.

The robotic voice resounds all over the room, provocking me to sigh. “Fine. You want to know what I do?” I say, concentrating for a second, before I make the gravity dissappear on the said room. Everyone started to float in the air as I kept my feet on the ground. 

Then gravity came back, when I stopped controlling it, making them all fall into the ground. 

“You didn’t have to do that asshole” Jaehyun said in the distance, and I smiled to his stupid expression. “There’s no point in this anyway” I say, but everything turned a weird shade of blue fastly.

972: Welcome to the unit 127, you have been selected to the protection unit, you will be assigned with daily missions around the world that you will have to accomplish. I will always be watching your actions and if you go against the companies policies, we will inform the police to take you away. As long as you are here you are protected. 972 will always look after you.

“Are you like us?” Mark asked from the distance. The robotic voice answered a yes, that felt odd for everyone, but Taeyong started speaking the truth “She is more powerful than us and she’s leggit. Also she’s hiding behind that wall” The boy speaked calmly. 

Jaehyun turned into one of the security guards body, breaking the glass that was covering the misterious girl with a stong punch. Her soft and calmed expression got us all. She got out of the cage she was in gently, supporting herself on one of the guard’s hand. 

“You didn’t have to break that” She says calmly, repairing the broken mirror like nothing. The pieces slowy got back to place, like nothing had happened, at all. “I trust your ability of keeping secrets from now on, Lee Taeyong” her voice said calmly to the boy who simply nodded.

And like that she left the room, leaving us behind with all sorts of doubts. But I guess that’s how 972 worked, always wanting to keep the misterious atmosphere.

------------------------------------------------------

This is like a character introductions sorta so be patient for more parts pleaseee

Masterlist --requests open-- How to request?  Check out your score.

[dreams-of-a-lark]

(Lark and Elias’s first and last photos together)

TASK 1: THE LAST DAY

January 11, 2016 7:00 AM, EST 12:00 PM, GMT

“Lark, you know I love you—”

“Boring.”

“Mmm fair. It’s fine, I have others. How about this one? Lark, you mean more to me than—” 

“Erh! Nope. Try again.”

“Oh, come on, you barely let me start!”

“Boo hoo… I knew where you were going with it. Got anything else?”

“Just one more, I was saving this one for last. It’s the best one I have, so will you let me actually get going before you stop me this time?” 

“Maybe. Compel me and we’ll see. I want to see you dig into the deep recesses of your soul, pull out your raw, still-beating heart and lay it bare. Otherwise, what am I even here for?”

“You’re unbelievable. But fine… Ahem...” Elias closed his eyes and let out a deep, shuttered sigh, “Lark. Before I met you, I had lost almost all faith in humanity. I found it impossible to believe that anyone acted with genuinely good intentions. I was bitter, cynical, lonely… and then, just as I was on the precipice of giving up on people entirely, there you were. Right on time. This pure light, banishing all my shadows. You are everything I was once sure didn’t exist in reality, but also the most real thing I’ve ever encountered.

The sheer amount of love you have to give blows me away. Love isn’t something you keep a reserve of only for certain special people. For you, love permeates the air around you everywhere you go and anyone lucky enough to meet you or know you gets to breathe it freely. Lark, you are so good, with no expectations or conditions attached to it, but just because it’s your nature. You make me want to be better everyday now, whereas before… I was just working on the motivation to be, period point blank. 

I have had the unfathomable privilege to breathe your love everyday for the past eight years and I hope you’ve felt even a fraction of what you’ve given me reflected back to you. Because, Lark, I love you more than I have the words to say. I love you with every last bit of life in me and I want to love you and feel your love for just that long, until the very last bit of life leaves me and I’m returned to the earth. I don’t know where I’ll be in the next five, ten, fifty years, all I know is I want to be wherever you are. So, Lark Dorian Crain, will you marry me?”

A silence hung in the air accompanied only by a faint mechanical whirring and the low buzz of an LCD screen. Katie finally broke it, her voice glitching and tinny through Elias’s small laptop speakers, “Better.” She said simply.

“Seriously? That’s it?” Elias replied, his voice laden with shock and disappointment.

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s beautiful, definitely a solid start. I almost teared up a few times. But, as all first drafts go, it could use some improvement.”

“It’s not my first draft, though…”

“Eh, feels like a first draft, love.”

“You know, sometimes it’s almost impossible to believe you’re related to Lark, let alone twins?”

“To be fair, do you know anyone in our family that’s really like Lark?”

“Eleanor.”

“Not related to us, stupid.”

“Mmm.. true. Ugh! Katydid... What do I Katy-do?”

“Well, for starters, you could never do whatever that just was again. Secondly, stop worrying about it, seriously. Knowing Lark, you could throw the ring across the deck and say, ‘go fetch if you wanna marry me’ and he’ll be running for it in an instant.”

Elias rolled his eyes, but smiled fondly at the thought of Lark bounding eagerly around the ship. It filled his heart whenever he thought of Lark’s joy, to think he had the power to bring so much of it to the surface baffled him endlessly.

“I’m so nervous,” he admitted.

“You don’t need to be,” Katie reassured him, “All jokes aside, it’s beautiful, and Lark loves you so much. You may not have moved me to tears, but you’ll definitely move him to tears. And then he’s going to blush like a damned schoolgirl and say yes a million times, like the sappy romantic he is.”

“You think so?”

“If he doesn’t, call an exorcist immediately, because that’s not Lark.”

Elias scoffed, but this was comforting encouragement to hear. Nothing he didn’t secretly already know, but it didn’t hurt to be reminded when he was feeling self-conscious. He breathed in deeply, filling up his cheeks with air, then puffing it back out through the small ‘o’ his mouth formed. 

“You’re right, I know.”

“I know you know. Listen, I’ve got to get back to work, love. I can call you when I get off, if you want, but you really should just enjoy your time with him today. Just act like it’s any other day... on a fancy cruise ship with the love of your life. Right?” 

Elias nodded, “Right. No need to call me back, you’re right. I’m just going to enjoy the day with him. Have a good day at work, I’m sure we’ll both call you after it happens.”

“I’ll be sure to hold the phone far away from my ear, so you all can squeal without busting my eardrums. Bye for now, then.”

“Alright. Bye Katie.”

The call ended and Elias closed his computer and looked out over the beautiful expanse of ocean surrounding the ship. Lark was still asleep in their cabin and probably would be for another couple of hours or so, it was nearly impossible to wake him anytime before 9 am. So Elias decided to stay for a while, taking in the peacefulness of the empty deck while the majority of the ship’s passengers slept, rocked by the lullaby of gentle waves.

January 11, 2016 9:00 AM, EST

Elias crept silently back into their cabin to find Lark sleeping fitfully, brows furrowed, eyelids knit tight. This was normally fairly unusual, but lately he’d been experiencing an uptick of nightmares that he didn’t like telling Elias much about for some reason. Elias eased down onto the edge of the bed and carefully lowered a hand down toward his forehead, fingers grazing across, pushing aside a stray curl. Almost instantaneously, Lark’s expression softened at his touch. It was moments like this that reminded him just how strong their connection was, the small gestures that could soothe one another’s most turbulent emotions.

He leaned down and pressed a light kiss on Lark’s cheek at which his eyes fluttered open, gazing weary oceans up at him. A soft smile, wrapt in security accompanied the gaze and Elias felt a pang in his chest as his heart skipped in response. “Morning, sleepyhead,” he sang softly to him.

Lark hummed and curled around where he sat, “Mmmmm… no.”

“No? What do you mean, no?”

“Not morning,” Lark muttered.

“It is, though.”

Lark shook his head, “No,” he mumbled, sleepiness still heavy in his voice, “still nighttime.”

“Oh is it now?” Elias asked, to which Lark nodded. Then, before he had a chance to react, he felt long arms wrap around him and pull him down and over into the bed, “Ah! Lark!” He laughed, “What’s this?”

“We sleep now,” Lark cooed, clearly very pleased with the results as he held Elias close. 

Elias let out another gentle laugh and turned to face the larger man, pressing his forehead to the other’s and cupping his face in his hands. “I love you,” he whispered.

Eyes closed, Lark gave a delighted smile. “Mhmmm,” he hummed in response, raising a hand to Elias’s eyelids in an attempt to shut them, “we sleep now.”

“Okay,” Elias giggled, “we sleep now, just a little longer.”

January 11, 2016 1:20 pm, EST

Elias woke to find Lark gone. Where was he? He rolled to sit up in the bed and checked his phone. 1:20 pm. Of course it was. With a stretch and a hearty yawn, he began to work on getting to his feet and looked around. The room was empty, the shower wasn’t going either, then he saw a shadow through the blinds leading out onto the small balcony of their room.

He opened the blinds to find Lark sitting in a wicker chair, sipping tea, gazing out over the water in placid solitude. There was a bottle of champagne and a pitcher of orange juice sitting on the table next to him, along with two champagne flutes and a bouquet of roses resting in a faceted crystal vase. Elias smiled to himself and slid open the glass door onto the balcony, coming up behind Lark who turned his head slightly towards him. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Lark said, seemingly completely unaware of the irony.

“It’s nearly 1:30.”

The other shrugged, “Morning is a state of mind.”

“Okay,” Elias laughed, draping his arms around Lark’s shoulders, and kissing the top of his head, “what’s all this?” He pointed at the set up on the table, to which Lark rose from his seat, came around to hug him tight, and laid a tender kiss on his lips. 

He smiled, then turned to pour two mimosas, “Happy Anniversary,” he said, holding out a glass to Elias. 

They clinked glasses and sat on the balcony, sipping their drinks, enjoying that serene silence they could only take true comfort in with one another. Every once in a while Elias would glance over at Lark’s satisfied face, the view of the ocean sparkling in his bright eyes. It didn’t matter where they were, Elias knew, but this was perfect. He wondered if he shouldn’t just pop the question right now, but the ring stayed in his pocket, waiting for a moment more perfect than this one. 

January 11, 2016 5:30 pm, EST

Elias hopped and shimmied as he pulled on his slim fit black slacks and tucked his stark white button up into them. He sifted through his bag and spread out the various necktie options he’d brought with him — plain black, floral, black and blue stripes, matte and satin striped maroon, black bowtie with subtle gold stars. A muffled sound of happy singing came from beneath the hiss of the running shower in the background. Elias looked back toward the bathroom and smiled, then turned to eye the bowtie lying on the bed. He was no good at tying bowties, Lark would have to help him, which made it the obvious choice in accessory. 

“Lark! Hurry up, our reservation’s at 6:00.” 

The singing stopped, “What’s that?” Lark called from the bathroom.

“I said... move your butt!” he called back.

“It’s always moving, love!”

“You know what I mean.” 

“Alright, alright, I’ll be out in a minute.” 

The shower went on for a little longer, then the hissing became a light trickle and, soon enough, a thick fog of steam rolled out of the bathroom door, orange light dissipated through the clouds. Lark strolled out, towel tied around his waist, drops of water hanging from the ends of his hair and glistening on his shoulders. He eyed Elias with the untied tie around his neck. A pleased laugh escaped his lips as he inched toward Elias and tugged at the ends of the bowtie, pulling him in for a kiss.

“Did you pick this tie just so I’d help you with it?” Lark asked.

Elias shrugged, “Maybe I did, you don’t know me.”

“No, of course I don’t.” Lark smirked and gently traced the side of Elias’s face with his fingertips, taking a moment to savor the sight of him. Eight years in and seeing Lark look at him like this still made Elias’s heart race.

“We have to get a move on,” Elias muttered, breathlessly. 

Lark cleared his throat, coming back to earth, and brought his hand back down to the tie. “Right,” he said matter-of-factly, then started on the tie. He worked the ends over and under, focus woven into his furrowed brow. Elias glanced down to watch his hands move then glanced back up at him. “There,” Lark fluffed the bowtie proudly when he had finished and met Elias’s gaze again.  

“I love you.” Elias reminded him for the millionth time and pulled him down to meet his lips, running his hands through Lark’s wet hair. 

Lark responded in kind, wrapping his long wingspan tight around Elias’s waist, “I love you too,” he whispered into Elias’s lips.

“I know,” Elias said and patted Lark’s chest as they pulled apart, “Now get dressed, we have like fifteen minutes.”

January 11, 2016 8:00 pm, EST

Elias and Lark walked hand in hand across the top deck of the ship, stomachs full, hearts warm, and heads perhaps a bit too light from a day full of champagne. Above them hung a cloudless, black blanket of sky encrusted with brightly shimmering, diamond stars and the thin sliver of a waxing crescent moon. Not far from them, a band played a harmonious violin cover of “You Are The Reason” with soft percussion accentuating the background. 

Lark pulled away, still holding onto Elias’s hand at arm's length, “Dance with me?” he asked.

Elias looked around the deck at the other families and couples enjoying the night around them, “There’s so many other people.” 

“So what?”

“They might be watching us.”

“Then we’d better put on a good show for them, don’t you think?” Lark smiled, pulling him back in and holding him close. 

Elias sighed, but a blush pulled the corners of his mouth into a coy smile. He wrapped his arms around Lark’s neck and leaned into him as they spun around the deck. Holding each other like this felt equal parts due to the desire to be close to one another and the necessity to help one another remain standing. The more they danced the more the effects of the day’s drinks took their toll and it wasn’t long until they had to slow to a stop. 

“Getting a little dizzy?” Elias laughed.

“Just a little,” Lark agreed. Then his face got serious and he pulled Elias with him towards the railing of the ship to look out over the water, shimmering under the stars. 

“I don’t want this night to end,” he said as they walked.

“Neither do I…” a pause settled between them. 

“Lark—” / “Elias—” They both spoke the other’s names in unison, followed by another unison, “sorry.” Then Elias spoke alone, “You go first.”

“Oh, uh,” Lark began, thrusting his hands into his pockets. He seemed to be fidgety all of a sudden, “Well, Elias… I know you know how much I love you, but I just wanted to say… before I met you…” Was this going where Elias thought? Had they really had the same idea at the same time? Well, he’d be damned if Lark was going to upstage his proposal. He gave a knowing smirk and stepped forward towards the other, “Lark…” but suddenly… time seemed to slow.

January 11, 2016 8:15:28 pm, EST

“… sorry.” Lark squinted and shook his head slightly, slow blinking.

January 11, 2016 8:15:30 pm, EST

Lark’s knee gave out on him and he stumbled back a bit.

January 11, 2016 8:15:32 pm, EST

Elias noticed the railing behind him fell just below Lark’s hip level. His eyes widened and he reached out to him.

January 11, 2016 8:15:33 pm, EST

The railing of the ship caught the back of Lark’s thigh.

January 11, 2016 8:15:34 pm, EST

“LARK!” 

January 11, 2016 1:15:28 - 1:15:34 am, GMT

Katie slept fitfully, alone in her small, twin bed, nestled in her small, one bedroom, Hampstead flat. In her dream, a flock of seagulls surrounded a small brown bird with a yellow face, a white underside, and black accent marks across it’s chest, under its eyes and in the tufts that sat upon its head. The small bird desperately flapped its wings to stay in the air, but the gulls, ten times its size, flapped their wings with all the more force down upon it.

January 11, 2016 8:15:35 pm, EST

Lark flipped over the railing, tumbling down towards the frigid waters below. A small crowd on the deck gasped as they bore witness. Elias ran to the railing and climbed readying himself to jump in after, but, just as he was about to take the leap a couple bystanders stopped him. 

January 11, 2016 1:15:35 am, GMT

Katie sprung up in her bed and screamed, cold sweat running down her face. An indescribable feeling of unbearable loss hit her core and ricocheted through her body.

January 11, 2016 8:15:36 pm, EST

The two bystanders held Elias tight, while others ran to find crew members that could help. “NO!” Elias screamed, “LET GO OF ME! LARK!” His body, completely sober now, shook with shock and tears cascaded from his eyes. “LET GO OF ME, GODDAMMIT!” He struggled against the ones holding him, finally breaking free and running back to the railing. His eyes scanned the water, desperately searching for signs of Lark, but couldn’t make out even the slightest shadow of a body. “LARK!” He called out. “LARK!” His knees buckled and he collapsed against the railing. “HELP HIM! SOMEBODY! Do something!” His forehead pressed hard against the bars, as his voice gave out, cracking a helpless, “please…” the bustle of crew members rushing to help Lark echoed from lower decks.

“Please… Lark… help him… somebody… bring him back…” It was impossible to see through the blinding film of tears rippling across his eyes, “please… I can’t… please don’t let him be gone… I can’t… I can’t… please… I can’t… somebody… Lark… I love you… please… I can’t.” 

January 11, 2016 1:15:36 am, GMT

On the other side of the world, Katie sat alone in her bed and heaved untamable sobs for reasons wholly unknown, save for the fact that it felt like something had reached into the deep recesses of her soul and snapped her still-beating heart in half, leaving the memory of it lingering like a phantom limb. 

January 11, 2016 1:30 am, GMT

A high tinnitus whine made its home in her ears, as she tried to process what she was feeling. Then the phone rang.

[mykennewickdentist]

What To Look For When You’re Choosing A Dental Office

How many times can you remember feeling a toothache or pain, then thinking, if I rinse my mouth out or brush my teeth, everything will be fine, and I won’t have to go see a dentist… That is called dental anxiety and is estimated to affect more than one-third of the population, including 12% suffering from extreme dental fear! Meaning… When we move to a new area or maybe our long-term dentist chooses to move; we now must search out a new dental office that will make us feel at the very least as comfortable and cared for as our previous dental office did. And as many of us know, this search can be a literal tooth-pulling process. Thankfully, we’ve got you covered here with a few great tips that can help narrow down the options and reveal the best dental office for you and your family.

1.   Check the Insurance

Comfortability is of course one of the most important factors in choosing a dental office. We believe this should also include financial comfortability and giving patients options to enable them to afford their dental care. Dental procedures like fillings or root canals can be expensive, leading to financial hardships for many families. Most quality dental offices welcome the ability to discuss their insurance coverage which gives that patient the knowledge and security to make the best decision for them whether they have insurance or not. If you do have insurance coverage, they can be a very good resource to inform you of the dental offices in your area that will cover your care. It’s important to always ensure your dentist accepts your family’s insurance plan before scheduling an appointment.

2.   Location and Hours

Hasty decisions are never the best when deciding whom you trust to care for you and your family’s dental care. Keeping your options open to as many suitable dental offices as possible is a good decision if possible. It’s not very helpful to you if your dentist isn’t open or available when you are! We must remember to be creative in our search; however, let’s not fall into the trap of finding the closest dental office to our homes. Perhaps there is a good office near our place of work or where our kids go to school. Remembering to make our lives work for us as much as we work for it can help ease the entire search process.

3.   Look into the Dentist’s Credentials

For the most part, we all want the best possible for ourselves as well as for the members of our families. And when it comes to trusting someone to work on something as delicate as your mouth and teeth, finding the right dental office with very well-qualified dentists is crucial! I know what you are thinking…

“How am I supposed to research all the qualifications of each dentist in my area?!”

Thankfully, being in the internet age, any credible and highly qualified dental office will have their own website that you can go to and not only read about the dental office and read about their values but also find information about each of the doctors in their practice and what the doctors’ qualifications are. Don’t just stop there however, it’s important to know they are continuing to improve their medical education and knowledge as the dental industry constantly evolves and improves.

4.   Check the Reviews

Don’t judge a book by its cover. This age-old saying not only applies to dental offices that may appear to be advanced and new but also offices that may look old and unkempt. Getting to know untold information and experiences comes from the reviews from current and past patients. One important tip is to look for recurring themes in the reviews you read. Let’s also not forget to also get both sides of the review board story; the good and the bad. If one review claims the dentist is incredible and skilled but another review claims they were misdiagnosed, you’re probably in the clear when judging the reviews’ reliability. If, however you start to see wild inconsistencies of ridiculously high praise or the reviews are filled with negative and harsh feedback, it may be a good idea to go elsewhere. When it’s all said and done, we must make the best decision for ourselves and what is in our best interest.

5.   Equipment and Service Options

As some of us more experienced visitors know, dental offices have very similar floorplans, equipment, and services as one another. That being said, in the last two decades or so dental offices, their equipment, and the amenities they can provide us patients has improved immensely. Depending on the oral needs of us or our family members, specific services and procedures may be needed in our dental office. The last thing any of us want to do is juggle several different dentists, locations, and bills! This is why doing the due diligence and getting a variety of services from our dental office is imperative. Dentists often offer family plans, emergency dental care, cosmetic services, restorative services. If you find a dentist’s office that offers all of these options, they’re a great choice for you and your family.

6.   The Waiting Room

Ahhh the dreaded waiting room… The way we think of a waiting room or as I like to think of it, the transition area, needs to evolve and become more realistic. Before we get into the actual waiting part of the transition area, one way or another we will be spending some time filling out paperwork or simply seated before we’re seen by our dentist. Therefore, it’s important we feel comfortable with the entire setting from the furniture to the paint and artwork on the walls. Settling any anxiousness you may have or simply enjoying yourself while you prepare for a little self-care should be an important factor in the dental office experience. Finally, when considering the overall belief that most of us want the very best doctors possible, the best food possible, the best living situation possible; it makes complete sense the best dentists and dental offices will be highly sought after. Thus, making waiting inevitable, which is okay! Thinking of dental visits as just that, a visit, allows the mind to get to a place of comfort and ease; further aiding in the pleasant dental office experience.

Making the decision to trust a dentist with your health often be a daunting task. However, if you make sure to follow the tips above and be sure to check they can cover all your family’s needs, the financial options they can provide you, and the level of comfortability you feel while in their dental office; you will be good hands. If you’re looking for a new dentist, contact Southridge Dental and we will take care of your every need!

from Southridge Dental https://www.mykennewickdentist.com/what-to-look-for-when-youre-choosing-a-dental-office/

[the-ghost-and-the-writer]

NSFW Alphabet-Wade Wilson

The boy! I love him. He’s perfect and he’s slightly messed up but I love him for it

18+ F!Reader

Actually his reaction to this probably

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He’ll take a moment to silently (for once) admire you until you say something and then he’ll grin and say some out there comment that turns into a lewd ramble about what you’d just done

At first he was apprehensive to cuddle unless he was dressed in at least a shirt so you wouldn’t have to feel his scorched body, but with your gentle reassurances he’s more open to a near-instant snuggle session

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

With you, everywhere. Every part of you is amazing and gorgeous to him and he has to really wonder why someone as beautiful as you would want a guy like him, with a face like spoilt lasagne

Evidently, it took some time to convince him that any part of him was worth a second thought. He’s getting more used to being secure with himself but doesn’t particularly have a favourite just yet

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

If you’ll let him, he adores the sight of his cum on your stomach or your face. It’s a special type of dirty for him, especially when you’d run a finger through the mess and lick it off

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Wade has very few secrets, dirty or otherwise, and he will gladly share any thought at all that he has at the slightest provocation

However, since his mutation kicked in and his pain tolerance went up almost as much as his healing factor, he’s been quite tempted to try a bit more kinky stuff. More risky, harsh things

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He is quite experienced, with many different types of people all across the gender spectrum in all sorts of situations. That doesn’t make him any less excited about being with you any way you’d like it, of course.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

While of course he’ll never say no to missionary or simply bending you over a table or the couch or a counter (the classics are classics for a reason), he does have a preference for the more challenging positions, more for bragging rights

Any possible way the two of you can bend yourselves without causing injury, he’ll try to somehow turn it to sex...which does sometimes cause some injury.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He’s never 100% serious, that’s not possible for Wade. There’s bound to be a few one-liners or sarcastic quips or comments to a person who isn’t there, but he won’t go too far with them in certain situations

Light-hearted is his favourite tone for sex anyway, since not only does he love to make you smile and laugh at any chance he can, but he’s slightly worried that having it be too serious will put him in his own head too much and he’ll get self-conscious

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

There really is none, since the experimentation

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) 

Wade has a special idea of romance. A mix of overly cheesy and completely pornographic.

He’ll fuck all levels of coherency and possible movement out of you, in a candlelit room on a bed covered in rose petals and filled with gentle music. Or he’ll take you to a beautiful wood cabin out in the middle of nowhere and rut you into the ground in front of the most picturesque view you could ever ask for.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Any moment he needs to, he’ll masturbate, regardless of if you’re going to get down to It or not.

He also uses it as a build-up to the main event and keeps him ready for you while he’s waiting for you. Sometimes he’ll try to entice you into sex by showing you just how desperate he is for you by touching himself and whining for your attention

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

The Merc with a mouth is also the Merc with a multitude of kinks. Evidently. His more noticeable ones are post-fight sex, mutual masturbation, and having you touch him

Post-Fight; Not make up sex, though damn he loves that as well, but coming back to you from a fight or freshly killing a guy that probably deserved it. If it went good or bad, it doesn’t matter to him because either way he wants you in any room and any position that’s quickest so he can get all adrenaline out while simultaneously celebrating that he has you still

Mutual Masturbation; Watching you do almost anything can rile Wade up, and he’ll never have enough of seeing you naked so watching you touch yourself is enough to fry his brain. And that’s not even taking in the fact that you’d touch yourself at the sight of him. You getting off on him getting off makes it feel so much better than just jerking off

Touch; A majority of the physical contact he gets is either fleeting or violent, so he loves when you take the time to check over him after a fight despite his healing factor or you insist on smothering him in kisses when he’s down. For a minute, it helps him forget his situation and his insecurities and makes him only want you for as long as he can

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Anywhere he can have you, most of the time. The X-mansion, Blind Al’s place, your shared place, the back room or a quiet corner booth of Sister Margret’s. He’s even brought you on a few missions where you end up having a risky fuck in a dangerous back-alley

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Just you. Having you around, and you wanting him, and you being there for him is enough

Of course, the adrenaline of a fight gets him riled up just as much though more noticeably

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Hurting you to severely is a definite no-go for him, as it anything too reminiscent of what he went through with Francis

Otherwise, any non-con roleplay and toilet stuff is also off limits

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Though he is by no means selfish, he does prefer receiving over giving. Having you so willing to get him off in such a way only enhances how good it feels. He always wants to finish in your mouth and he’ll sometimes ask you to beg him for it

He’ll eagerly return the favour whenever you want him to, or for any little excuse. He’s good at it as well, he can have you on the edge in record time and he always seems to relish that knowledge

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He almost always goes quite slow, to make sure he can fuck you deeper or rougher and really pick you apart. Even when you might get caught, he rarely goes faster than his usual pace

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Quickies are almost as good as proper sex to him. Sometimes better but it depends on the occurrence. Any possible moment, he’s offering to take you aside for a bit of ‘tension relief’ regardless of how many times you’ve already had sex that day

Even if it’s totally the wrong time, or there’s no semi-private place, he’ll still offer

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He’s down for trying almost everything and he’ll approach every new experience with the same enthusiasm each time

Evidently, he won’t push you to take any risks that you aren’t certain about, but he will try to encourage you in his usual way

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Since the Incident with Francis, his stamina in all ways has improved

He’s borderline insatiable, able to easily go for four rounds before he’s spent, and with that he could keep you up almost all night

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He owns a few, a small collection, or a couple vibrators and dildoes as well as one or two masturbation toys. There is a strap-on hidden somewhere, half forgotten

All the toys are tried and tested, he is very willing to use each one on himself or have you use them in any way

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Wade teases, mostly, by giving you almost enough but not quite to  make you whine and beg

Other times, it’s the typical denial and delay teasing also but only when he’s feeling more playful

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He is unashamed with his moans and whines, any little noise that wants to get out, and can be loud but he can’t see the issue

However, when there are complaints, he can get obnoxiously louder out of spite.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Because of his situation, his insecurities, he gets quite easily jealous over any possible sexual interest you could show to anyone else. He trusts you implicitly, he just thinks that he isn’t the most physically appealing person

To take that jealousy out of his system, he makes you cum in the nearest possibly-private place he can, hoping that whoever it is that is causing the jealousy might come by and see that they have no chance

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

As almost everyone who knows him will know, he’s got a pretty big dick. While they know from his bragging and overly descriptive recollections of nights or even hours before, you know from the ache that lasts for hours after sex

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Wade is always down for sex. He’s insatiable, having gotten you both in trouble multiple times for sneaking away to fuck when you should be focusing on something else

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

When you’re both settled down in bed, he’ll make a point of staying awake after you’ve fallen asleep so he can be more obviously worriedly-overjoyed that he has you in his life and his bed and his heart

Give me requests or give me death. If you want the notifications for when I rise from the dead again, then the tag list is always open.

[isrustandstardust]

1. What’s been the best day of your life so far and why?

Hard to decide, I had so many great days.

2. Describe your first kiss, who was it with, what was it like, where was it etc?

It was with my best friend at the time, in my parents garden. It was early morning after a night spent talking, her lips were really soft.

3. What’s your biggest regret? I know we all say we don’t regret things but obviously it’s how we learn, from our mistakes. So what’s something from your past you wished you could have changed?

I could have handled a break up better. I ended up hurting someone I cared for.

4. When was the last time you laughed so hard that tears fell from your face and what was it at?

With my husband, yesterday night. We were actually making fun of someone we know.

5. What is the craziest thing that you have ever done?

Moving in with a guy I barely knew in a city 400km away from all my family and friends.

6. What’s the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you?

Nothing comes to mind rn.

7. Do you have any scars and if so, how did you get them?

I have my arms covered in scars. All of them are from self harming.

8. Where would you like to be in 10 years?

In another house, maybe abroad.

9. What are your views on drugs and alcohol?

I’m for the free of choice. I’ve tried drugs only a few times and not drinking atm.

10. What are your views on religion?

Brainwashing shit.

11. Have you ever thought about ending your own life? If so, why?

Yes, more than once. I tried, twice, when I was 21 and going through a lot. The second time I almost succeeded and woke up in the hospital after being unconscious and intubated for a week.

12. Write 5 facts people might not know about you.

- I am bipolar, borderline and have a schizoafective disorder.

- I dream about Satan and the end of the world on daily basis.

- When I was little I used look for little animals to bury and exhume after a while to see how decomposition works.

- I’ve been into witchcraft and rituals since I was 16.

- I write backwards like Leonardo Da Vinci.

13. What’s your zodiac sign and do you think it fits your personality?

I’m a Scorpio and it fits perfectly.

14. Pinpoint a moment you felt the most satisfied with your life.

When my storyboard teacher remembered me from my online test because it was a perfect score.

15. Discuss your first love.

We were young and trying too hard.

16. Put your ipod on shuffle and write 5 songs that pop up. Explain why each song is on there.

- Don’t mess with me - Brody Dalle. It’s from the soundtrack of a game I love.

- Distance - 4bidden. It relaxes me.

- As the rain comes down - 0K(ill)’s. Because I’m working on their new videoclip.

- 8-MQ 16.10.2001 - 0K(ill)’s. Because it’s inspired by an Italian female serial killer. The title is composed by her initials and date of death.

- Rock and Roll - Gary Glitter. It makes me want to misbehave.

17. Name somewhere you’d like to move or visit.

Iceland.

18. What’s your earliest memory?

My dad taking me to Collodi.

19. What are your views on mainstream music?

It’s heartless and all about making money.

20. What are your highs and lows of this past year?

High: starting officially my character designer career. Low: my mother in law and old dog passing away in less than a month.

21. What are your strongest beliefs?

I believe in being direct and honest. Do no harm but take no shit.

22. Who are you closest to in your family?

My dad maybe.

23. How important do you think education is?

It’s fundamental.

24. What’s one of your favorite shows?

My 600lbs life XD

25. How have you changed in the past 2 years?

I’m more secure of myself and my capabilities.

26. Name 5 people who are famous who you find attractive.

- Tom Hiddleston.

- Mads Mikkelsen.

- Hugh Dancy.

- Michael Fassbender.

- Matthew Good.

27. Name your favorite movie and what it’s about.

3 Iron, in the mood for love. Because they’re sad but huntingly beautiful.

Stoker because psycho killers turn me on.

The fountain because is eternal and heartbreaking.

28. Who is someone who fascinates you and why?

I am fascinated by fictional characters. Like Hannibal Lecter. Yeah, again psycho killers.

29. What kind of person attracts you?

Intelligent people.

30. What’s a problem that you have recently had or are currently having?

My body is giving up on me xD

31. Name something that you miss.

The lake.

32. Share 5 goals you want completed in the next 30 days.

- Doing at least 15 designs.

- Double up my workout time.

- Completing my very first song.

- Take that online course I’ve been postponing for lack of time.

- Get a hold of a camera and go shooting.

33. What’s been the highlight of your month and the lowest point?

Highlight: doing a shit ton of sales on my shop. Lowest point: I don’t recall one, it’s been a pretty good month so far.

34. What’s something that you’ve done in the past that you would never do again?

Being the side chick.

35. What is you’re biggest insecurity & why?

Not being good enough. It can be traced back to my mom being a terrible mother.

36. What were the last 3 songs you listened to and what did they mean to you?

- Natacha Atlas - GAFSA. Because it’s in the soundtrack of 3Iron.

- Morcheeba - Over and over again. I find I’d perfectly fitting.

- Portishead - Wandering star. Because it remembers me of someone from my past.

37. Do you have a toy that’s really special to you and if so what is it, how did you get it etc?

I had a plush of a rhino called Mr. Turkelton [Scrubs reference] that was so dear to me. It’s with my ex, we bought it together and he kept it. Still miss him tho.

38. Have you lost anyone close to you to death?

My mother in law. She was more of a mom to me than my own mother.

39. What is your purpose in life?

Being happy and create beautiful things.

40. When was the last time you cried and what was it over?

I do not remember, but I guess it was during my mil’s funeral.

41. If you got to spend an entire day with your favourite celebrity what would you guys do?

I would love to spend a day with the Mass Effect’s cast playing the game!

42. If you could only listen to one artist for the rest of your life, who would you choose and why?

Tool. Because I’m a masochist.

43. What are 3 traits that you like about yourself and what are three that you dislike about yourself? Personality wise.

Likes:

- Being open minded.

- Being stubborn.

- Being so will powered.

Dislikes:

- Being insecure.

- Being so unable to handle rage that I keep extremely calm until the moment I explode and get cruel and violent.

- Being unable to let go of things that enrage me.

44. Can you cook? If so what are your favorite dishes to make?

I’m pretty good at it. I love to make fresh pasta.

45. What was the last decision you regretted making?

Drinking that glass of milk, now my stomach hurts.

46. Who’s opinion of yourself do you value the most?

Mine. And then my husband’s. I don’t care of no one else’s opinion.

47. What’s the nastiest thing you’ve ever said to another human being and what drove you to say it?

I demolished a guy who was in love with me telling him exactly what I knew it would break him. I did it because he tried to act like I was his property and then got aggressive when I didn’t act accordingly.

48. What’s the nastiest thing anyone has ever said to YOU? Or something that’s hurt you above anything else and why?

Nasty things don’t get to me, I don’t listen to what people say, especially when it comes from someone I don’t care for or I despise. The things that hurt me the most was saying goodbye to someone I was not ready to let go.

49. You can ask your favourite celebrity 3 questions and she’s taken a magical truth pill so she will 100% answer honestly, what do you ask?

Maybe some technical stuff, Idk. I have no ‘favorite celebrity ‘ so...

50. What mark would you want to leave on this world after you are gone?

I don’t care about leaving a mark in a dying world tbh.

51. What makes you most angry?

Liars, incoherent people, delusional people, copycats.

52. Who do you think is a really underrated artist and what do you love about them?

There are a lot of really underrated artists out there trying their very best and being bashed by online algorithms. Support the artists you like!

53. What are the main qualities you look for when thinking about a significant other?

Intelligence, honesty and having moral values.

54. What’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for you?

The first that comes to mind is waiting at home for me to return with a hot bath ready and a bed full of rose petals. It’s a cliche,Iknow. But I was young and in love.

55. What is one of your favorite memories?

I have so many, but thinking about the past makes me feel bittersweet.

56. What do you do when you really want to impress someone?

I just act normal, if they’re impressed, good. If not, it’s ok.

57. What are your 3 favourite animals and why?

- Snakes: They’re so fascinating.

- Crows: they’re extremely intelligent.

- Sharks: natural born predators.

58. What’s the nicest present you’ve ever received?

A trip to Paris and a trip to Disneyland.

59. People always go around saying ‘oh I’m their biggest fan’, but what does being a truly big fan of someone mean to you?

Idk, I just like people. I don’t obsess over them.

I obsess over things I like, but not over some individual I don’t know.

60. Have you ever wanted to change anything about your life? If so, what?

I want more money XD

61. What is something you feel like you are really good at?

Drawing. Hopefully making music, but it’s way to early to say.

62. What is something you feel like you can get better at?

Drawing, there’s always room for improving.

63. What is something you feel like you are really bad at?

Hiding when I despise someone. And bowling.

64. If you were given $3,000,000 to put towards 3 charities/foundations ($1 mil each obvs), what would you choose and why?

Wildlife protection, animal shelters, planet’s preservation.

65. What’s one thing someone has done for you that was really small but made a huge impact?

My roommates came back from Xmas holidays one day earlier to have dinner with me because I was alone. And another brought me Xmas dinner a few days before.

66. What do you do when you can’t sleep?

I work :/

67. What’s something that’s on your bucket list?

Make a nice home studio.

68. If you could change 3 things within your government, what would they be and why?

I would actually change the opponent party. They’re dreadful.

69. What’s your favourite holiday and why?

Xmas, because it feels like happiness.

70. What’s the kindest thing a stranger has ever done for you? Even if it’s TINY like holding a door open for you, something that you rememer even though they were a complete stranger.

A stranger helped me when my nose was bleeding like crazy and I was alone in a mall. He also bought me an orange juice.

71. Who’s your favorite cartoon character?

Motoko Kusanagi.

72. What’s the first song that comes to your mind while reading this and why?

Reptile - NIN. Don’t know why.

73. Put the 7 deadly sins in order of the one you commit the most to the least.

Wrath - Lust - Pride - Sloth - Greed - Gluttony - Envy.

74. What would you like to be the first dance song at your wedding?

I’m already married and we danced over Christian Woman by Type 0 Negative XD

75. Have you ever been told you look like a famous person, if so, who?

Someone told me I look like Butterfly from Death Proof and like Amy Lee from Evancescence.

I really don’t see it.

76. What’s one thing you can not live without?

Art. And music.

77. What is the most selfless thing you have ever done for someone?

Going away.

78. Do you hate someone.

No, I dislike a lot of people, I think the world would be better off if some of them would die, it I do not hate them.

79. What are 3 things that have happened in your life that you’ve never forgotten? Big or small, just things you know you won’t ever forget and still seem crystal clear now.

- Almost dying.

- Getting married.

- Signing for my very first house.

80. What comes first to you out of friendships and relationships, and why?

They’re equally important.

81. What’s your favourite children’s tv show/movie?

Muppets: a Christmas Carol.

82. What song makes you cry the most?

Together we will live forever - Clint Mansell.

83. What’s the funniest film you’ve ever seen?

Operation Petticoat.

84. What’s something crazy that you’ve always wanted to do?

Trying human flesh.

85. Has anything ever happened to you that you just can’t forgive?

A lot. Just, a lot.

86. What’s your biggest fear?

Being abandoned.

87. What is your favorite food?

Red meat, pistachio ice cream.

88. Least favorite food? Why?

Celery.

89. Have you ever felt ashamed about something? If so what was it & why?

Not that I recall of.

90. Do you keep a journal? If so what mostly goes in it? Random thoughts, feelings, stories?

I always keep a journal, I write in it pretty much everything, dreams, feelings, ideas, thoughts.

91. When was the last time you said something nice to someone & what made you do it?

This morning to my husband, because he deserves it.

92. How do you feel when someone says something mean/disrespectful towards your fave celeb?

Couldn’t care less? Everyone is entitled to his own opinion, even if it’s a shitty one.

93. What’s the saddest story/one that’s touched you the most that you’ve ever heard on the news?

Milena Quaglini’s.

94. If you were told you were going to have 3 daughters, what would you want to name them?

Violante, Lavinia and Artemisia.

95. Do you have a middle name and if so, what is it?

I have two. Valeria and Maria.

96. How did your name get chosen? What’s the story behind it?

My dad found it in a sci-fi book back when he was a teenager. It was the name of the first baby girl born on the moon.

97. What’s the craziest thing you’ve done for each of your faves e.g. waiting in line for hours, getting up early to see them on tv etc?

I watched a streaming reunion in the middle of the night on N7 day.

98. Are you a virgin?

No.

99. What are the stories behind your tattoos/piercings and if you don’t have any, would you like any?

I have wings because I’ve always been obsessed with winged figures and angels.

I have a lot of movies/books quotes because they all means something to me.

I have cherry petals because of Hagakure.

The snowflake is the reminder of a very important person.

The moth is for my self destructive tendencies.

The witch is a homage to me.

The strawberry is a silly Adventure Time reference.

The snake is a biblical reference to both Lilith and Satan.

The Santa Muerte and the black goat are both linked to my beliefs.

100. Do you want to say something to the world?

Stop being stupid, stop making stupid people famous, open a book.

[opalgelance]

I’ve decided that I loved Homeworld Bound, Everything’s Fine, and I Am My Monster. More so than a lot of SU episodes. But I hated The Future. They could’ve done so much more in those ten minutes. And I don’t like that Steven is leaving Beach City. It just doesn’t make sense to me.

One, he’s 16 (possibly 17 as months passed in show between SUF episodes, and it’s been a few months since I Am My Monster in show) He’s way too young to just go off on his own, driving around the country? And he said he’d travel all 39 states to decide where to stay? Like Steven, 16-17 year old gem hybrid with no education and no social security number is going to move to Vermont, buy a house, and get a job. I know Steven Universe is an escapist fantasy but I don’t think many people’s (especially kids’) escapist fantasy is to move out and own a house with a modest job LOL

Two, I feel like the whole show, Growing Pains especially, said that Steven needs that support system, his family. I know they said they’d come visit but I think it’s healthy for him to always have someone available, to feel like someone’s around and nearby to go to. Personally, I do feel this way. I need the support system I’ve built nearby, always available, or else I spiral into depression. It’s only been a few months since I Am My Monster, I have no idea why anyone, in show and the writers, thought Steven was so healed now (if not completely healed in their eyes) that he could just leave? Steven said he would be able to talk to his therapist on the road, but Steven is in no condition to be making such drastic, life changing decisions.

Three, which I really hate, is how final they made this decision. They cleared out Steven’s room (and had Greg move in), gave away his stuff, said permanent sounding goodbyes, and most importantly, at one point said “You know I might never come back?” WHAT THE FUCK??? OF COURSE you’re going to come back, if only to visit, but the writing made it sound like Steven would never, EVER come back. Garnet saying they would come visit, Lapis, Peridot, and Bismuth acting like they’d never see him again, it’s so strange. Everyone remembers that Warp Pads exist, right? Just place a Warp Pad at Connie’s school, and wherever Steven decides to stay (which again, he’s 16-17, a one of a kind human-gem hybrid, has no education, and from what we’ve seen in future, has trouble being around humans he doesn’t know. He’s not going to buy a house and get a job in the midwest or something), and it’s literally faster than driving from Little Homeworld to the Temple. And come on, he’s not going to just never visit the gems or Greg ever again. What, they’re always going to visit him? It sounds a lot like Greg and Rose actually. Leaving and never looking back. He’s supposed to learn from his parents, not make the same mistakes.

Four, what does this mean? Like, Steven is not only a human-gem hybrid, but a diamond and savior of the universe. I get that he wants to focus on the human part of himself, and doesn’t like thinking of himself as a diamond, but he is. How can he just forget about all of the gems he’s promised to help over the course of the series? A few people have pointed out that Centi, the Nephrite Steven wanted to heal first, appears in the intro to SUF but never in the series. How is he just going to leave not only her, but seemingly all of his gem self behind? How can he just chill in a house, at 16-17, somewhere in the US, while corrupted gems still need to be healed, and colonies need to be freed? I know that he needs to help himself for once, not others. But with how final this whole thing sounds, what if he never comes back? That sounds crazy, right?

Five, what about Homeworld? It’s totally valid for him to never want to go back there, but he also has friends there, like Topaz and Spinel. And as much as I hate it, the Diamonds are technically his family. If he didn’t want anything to do with the Diamonds they should’ve included them while helping Steven in I Am My Monster, or better yet, shown that while the Diamonds and Spinel have improved themselves, the scars they’ve left Steven with are too deep to ever truly be healed.

Six, which is really important, they’ve left no room for a continuity or fanfiction/fancomics, which really just stabs the fans in the back. You can never have Steven convince your Gemsona to try Little Homeschool, or help free a colony, or whatever you want to write about, unless you want to disrespect canon (which you should, write/draw what makes you happy, regardless of canon) But especially with younger fans, it’s stifling their creativity. As a kid, if I’d watched this finale, I would’ve thought, “Oh no, I lost my chance to make a story and a Gemsona because Steven’s gone now” and that’s not how to engage your audience.

I think overall if they said he’d be back in a few months or even a couple of years, that’d be fine. But with how the dialogue is written it seems very final in a bad way. Or just made it more of an open ending somehow. If they had made Steven leaving temporary, I think I would’ve been content with the finale.

[pennamepersona]

Where's the Logic in Giving Up Love and Morals When You Don't Want a New Job, Anyway

-All appropriate tags available on the ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15346800 -

“And of course, we’ll need you to terminate your professional association with Deadpool,” The agent says, and Peter’s head snaps up to look at them, not even pretending to scan the contract in front of him any longer.

“Come again?” Peter asks, making no effort to mask his irritation.

“Deadpool is not an acceptable individual for a SHIELD employee to be known to associate with,” The agent says, sounding surprised that Peter is finally saying something. “His methods are not condoned by the agency.”

Peter just stares in disbelief for a long moment.

“You are aware that SHIELD has assassins on staff, right?” He asks. “Like, assassins plural. As in more than one.”

“The less commonly accepted methods that SHIELD has employed are not public knowledge.” The agent says. “Deadpool’s methods are very well-known and generally frowned upon.”

Peter takes a deep breath and leans his forehead on one hand.

“You’re all such awful hypocrites,” He says, exhausted and upset down to his bones, but unwilling to lash out in an enclosed room with only a SHIELD agent and himself inside. He doesn’t trust SHIELD at all, has stayed away from any and all of their offers for as long as he could, but came to this interview anyway, if only to get them off his back.

He never intended to actually sign on as a - what was the title again? something like, “exclusive super-powered freelance agent through the Avenger’s initiate” - but figured there was no better way to get them to stop asking than to hear them out and summarily reject them.

Now he’s wondering if it was really worth it.

“I understand that your relationship with Deadpool will likely continue regardless,” The agent says, smoothly, and Peter wishes they’d stop talking because he really, really wants to punch them, and that seems unwise right now. “We only ask that it remain out of the public eye.”

“Yeah, fuck that,” Peter says, standing up and walking over to the door, hoping that it’ll open for him without fuss. “I already wasn’t interested in the job, but if you’re going to keep up with this shitty double standard for Wade, you can consider me completely off SHIELD’s contact list for good.”

“Spider-man, please,” The agent says, a touch of concern in their voice now. “We ask that you reconsider. The good that you’d be able to do if you joined - ”

“I do plenty of good now.” Peter says, turning back to glare coldly at the agent, who actually flinches slightly. Coward. “A lot of it thanks to Deadpool’s help. Now, are you going to let me out, or do I have to call for help?”

The agent gulps, pressing a button under their desk, and the door swings open. Peter marches out of it without a backward glance, practically running through the building to the nearest window, which he jumps out of almost on instinct, shooting out a strand of web to catch himself, immediately swinging to the next building, and then the building beyond, until he lands on the roof of Wade’s apartment complex.

He goes down the fire escape, skipping every other step, sliding easily through the window to Wade’s living room once he reaches it.

“Wade,” He calls, yanking off his mask and taking a deep breath of non-filtered air. “I’m back, where are you?”

“Bedroom, Peter-man,” Wade calls back, and just at the sound of his voice, Peter feels some of the tension bleed out of him. He goes into Wade’s bedroom, almost entirely packed into boxes that will soon be taken to their new apartment. The little thrill that Peter always gets at the thought of them finally moving in together still comes, and though it doesn’t lift his spirits entirely, it goes a fair way to improving his mood.

“How was the job interview?” Wade asks, half-laughing as he tosses shirts haphazardly into a box. Peter pulls them out and starts folding them, then replacing them carefully into the box, smiling as he sees that about a third of them are either shirts he’s left here or Wade stole from him ages ago.

“Awful,” Peter says, honestly. “I already wasn’t interested in the job, but then they said if I took it, I couldn’t associate with you as Spider-Man anymore.”

“Whaaaaaaat?” Wade says, drawing out the word into a half-whine. “But I’ve been cleaning up my act! Seventy-five percent less unnecessary violence, Peter, and sixty percent less killing overall, and them’s good numbers! I’d like to see SHIELD pull out those kinds of results from their butt murderers.”

“Assassins,” Peter corrects, absently. “And yeah, I know. I told them they were being hypocrites, and that if they kept it up, Spider-Man wasn’t going to respond to any of their calls, anymore. Scared the agent pretty good, too, so hopefully it sticks.”

“Aw, spidey, you do care,” Wade says, putting a hand to his face and striking a ridiculous pose straight out of a bad anime. Peter half expects Wade to call him “senpai” next.

“Dude, we’re literally moving in together,” He says, laughing. “If I didn’t care, I sure wouldn’t be subjecting myself to your messy ass twenty-four seven.”

“Love you too, pumpkin,” Wade grins, closing the shirt box and taping it shut. “Now then, what’s your sweet self craving for dinner?”

“How about that sushi place down the street?” Peter suggests, and judging by Wade’s squeal, he’s made a good choice. “My turn to pay, remember.”

“See if you can beat me to it, then,” Wade challenges, chuckling when Peter flicks his forehead before grabbing a change of clothes from one of the few drawers that hasn’t been packed up.

“Gimme ten minutes and then we can get going,” He says, brushing a quick kiss to Wade’s lips.

“I’ll drag your ass outside if you’re not done in five,” Wade says, pinching said ass as he walks by, laughing loudly at the subsequent yelp.

“You should probably find a new roof to hang out on, now,” Clint says, striding casually over to where Peter’s lying on his back, looking up at the clouds as they slowly turn from white to faintly pink and purple, reflecting the setting sun.

“Wade said to wait here,” Peter says, not moving. “And so here I wait.”

Clint doesn’t say anything back, just drops to lay next to Peter in companionable silence, which Peter expects won’t last long, but appreciates nonetheless.

“You really made a statement at that interview,” Clint says, after a minute or so of quiet, which is longer than Peter thought he’d last, so really, props to Clint. “Pissed a few people off, especially once the footage from the security feed got stolen. They might unofficially suspect Deadpool, but not enough to do anything about it.”

“Wade didn’t,” Peter says, almost certain.

“He did not,” Clint agrees. “I did.”

“Why?” Peter asks, honestly surprised. He turns to look Clint in the eyes, but Clint’s still staring up at the sky.

“Because you’re right.” He says, sounding just a bit tired. “SHIELD has a shitty double standard, and besides that, Wade does damn good work. He’s not subtle enough for them, is their problem, but honestly, fuck that. Wade’s probably the most honest out of all of us, and if that makes it so they can’t use him, that’s probably a good thing.”

Peter doesn’t say anything for a longer moment than originally planned, too shocked by Clint’s outburst of emotion against the agency he’s been working with for a long time, to Peter’s understanding, to be certain of what to say. Clint just sighs, long and more than a bit tired, now.

“I like Wade,” He says. “We don’t hang out a lot, but when we do, he’s a breath of fresh air. I can only let my guard down around so many people, and Wade’s right up there with Nat for easiest person to talk to. I respect him and how he does his work and lives his life. I’ve done a lot of objectionable shit in my life, and I’m sure I’ll do more, but I’m not about to just sit there and see Wade Wilson get bad mouthed. Mild annoyances might be all I’m up to at the moment, but you two’ve got me in your corner, alright?”

“Okay,” Peter says, still unsure of what to make of all this, but then Clint snaps upright and scratches at the side of his head and yawns.

“Welp, that’s all the emotion and sincerity I’m due for today,” He says, stretching and popping out his hearing aids. “Tell Wade I said hey.”

Peter gives him a thumbs up, which Clint nods at before jumping off the side of the tower to what Peter assumes is some kind of safe ledge. He doesn’t hear any crashes or shouting, and he’s seen Clint do way more risky looking maneuvers and come out fine, so he isn’t worried.

“Spidey-pie!” Wade shouts, dropping down onto the roof from seemingly nowhere, startling Peter more than he cares to admit.

“Wade, you scared me,” Peter says, standing up and leaning hard into Wade’s firm body. “Clint says hey, by the way.”

“Oh, rhymes,” Wade purrs. “I’ll tell the purple bird hells-o next time I see him, but not tonight. We’ve got date night, and I’m not about to forfeit that, even for a good ol’ pal like Hawk’s Eye. Wow, and he’s even blonde, too. Not a lot of personality similarities, though, so I guess it’s just the sharpshooting. She did guns, too, and Barton’s way more into the old-fashioned bow and all those Cupid’s arrows aimed towards platonic appreciation, isn’t he?”

“I’ll take you at your word,” Peter says, guiding Wade’s arms around him before leaping off Avenger’s Tower into freefall, catching them about halfway down at the exact second before Wade’s shrieks hit an uncomfortable pitch. “Where to, babe?”

“August fourth!” Wade shouts, and Peter rolls his eyes with enough fondness that his chest clenches, steering them in the general direction of a Mexican place he can remember going to sometime last fall, knowing that Wade will guide him if he goes the wrong way.

Peter’s about 84% of the way through finishing up with his current project, so he’s completely planning on staying overnight to push through and just be done. It absolutely isn’t the first time he’s done it, and he knows it won’t be the last, especially since he’s still doing this after finishing his Master’s six months ago. Beyond that, it isn’t as though he lacks for company in the labs, even at two in the morning.

What is surprising, though, is the company he has tonight. This morning. Whatever, he’s had coffee, but not enough for a worthwhile thought process that isn’t attached to his work.

“‘Sup?” Peter asks, absently, poking a small and obscenely sharp scalpel at tiny filaments.

“Do I have to do small talk before I say the important thing?” Dr. Banner asks. “Because I’m still not good at that.”

“Nope,” Peter says. “Get real, Dr. Banner. I live with Deadpool, I gave up small talk a long time ago. Also, I suck at it, too.”

“I’m positive I’ve told you before to call me Bruce,” Dr. Banner says, sounding a bit tired, but when Peter glances up, he’s smiling.

“You’ve got, like, a bajillion PhDs, Dr. Banner. Gonna show some respect. Besides, I like you.” Peter says, setting his small scalpel down, just in case this conversation requires actual mental fortitude.

“Seven PhDs, actually.” Dr. Banner says.

“Dude, it’s two in the morning and I’m doing science. I respect you, but not enough to remembers details at two in the morning when I’m doing science.” Peter says, leaning heavily into the lab table.

“It’s five thirty,” Dr. Banner says, looking a bit concerned.

“Oh,” Peter says. “Well, that’s cool. So what’s up?”

“Um,” Dr. Banner says, showcasing off his finely honed communication skills. “I heard about Wade and SHIELD.”

“Did he do something recently?” Peter asks, trying to go back through the past month or so and recall Wade saying anything particularly odd that could’ve been translated to ‘I blew up a SHIELD helicarrier because I wanted to test a new cocktail of explosives’ if someone Not-Wade had said it.

“Not that I know of, but probably,” Dr. Banner says. “Just sort of judging by his usual - anyway, no, I meant what you said during your interview.”

“Oh, that,” Peter says. “SHIELD sucks. No offense, Dr. Banner, I know they’re what keeps you and your research going smoothly, but I’m not a fan.”

“Neither am I, if I’m being honest,” Dr. Banner says. “But Asgardian research grants aren’t really a thing, and the research I do is important enough to be worth dealing with a clearly corrupt and dangerous agency.”

“I’m betting that having a boyfriend who’s a literal god and could kick SHIELD’s collective ass doesn’t hurt,” Peter notes, which makes Dr. Banner flush faintly and nod.

“That, too. But you are right, is the point, specifically about how they treat Deadpool. I don’t know him personally, but I know you well enough after working with you for this long to trust your judgement of him. I’ve seen how much he helps you with, um, with your mental state.”

“He gets it,” Peter says, simply, not quite sure if he’s making sense but very sure that he’s tired and probably isn’t going to end up finishing his project tonight. This morning. Seriously, whatever.

“I can see that,” Dr. Banner smiles, again. “I just wanted to let you know that, while this is technically a SHIELD facility, you and Deadpool are supported by Thor and me, which Thor said, loudly, to some of the SHIELD staff who were talking about revoking your access to the building.”

“Oh, shit,” Peter says. “Whoa, thanks Dr. Banner. That’s. I didn’t know that was happening, though I should’ve guessed, probably, but anyway, thanks so much, jesus, that’s really good of you guys.”

“I like to think we get it,” Dr. Banner says, a bit wryly, which makes Peter laugh.

“Yeah, I think you do,” Peter says. “Now, not that this hasn’t been a great talk, but I’m gonna call my boyfriend to pick me up, now, because I don’t think I’m actually conscious enough to get home on my own.”

“You have friends in all directions,” Wade murmurs, the rumbling in his chest making Peter sigh softly, leaning further into him.

“We both do,” Peter says, taking his volume cues from Wade. “They see you. They might not know you like I do, but not everyone on the outside pretends you’re unmanageable.”

“So I’m hearin’,” Wade says. “Nice to be appreciated.”

“You deserve it,” Peter says, leaning up to kiss him. Wade returns the kiss, but keeps it soft, gentle, unhurried.

“Deservin’ ain’t a part of lovin’,” Wade says against his lips. Peter hums his assent and leans back in, savoring the taste of his concrete happiness.

[tomasorban]

THE ZODIAC: CAPRICORN THE GOAT

Date of Rulership: 21st December-19th January; Polarity: Negative, female; Quality: Cardinal; Ruling planet: Saturn; Element: Earth; Body part: Knees, Joints, Bones; Colour: Black, dark grey, and brown; Gemstone: Turquoise, Amethyst; Metal: Lead.

Following on from Sagittarius, Capricorn is a sign that is immensely focused on how developments made in various disciplines like science, economy, law, and psychology can be used to improve living standards, raise collective consciousness, and foster a powerful society that runs as quickly and efficiently as a Japanese bullet train or a Swiss Rado watch. The Goat possesses the memory of a Tibetan monk, or rather an Indian elephant and its intuition extends far, far back before the conscious will crawled its way out of the primordial sludge. Interestingly, everything about this primitive state of chaos unsettles and scares the Goat. In fact lack of structure and organization, whether on a personal level or a collective level, induces psychological complexes within the Capricornian psyche that may drive it over the edge. In light of this, one can begin to understand this star sign’s compulsion and obsession with developing systems that tabulate and organise information into coherent hierarchies, raising and enforcing social standards and laws, and encouraging individuals to turn their passions and interests into full-time careers. According to the Goat, compartmentalization is a must; how will contemporary society function effectively, grow, and prosper without specialists to put forth broad-based models and inspired leaders to assess their levels of practicality and decide whether or not they should be implemented. Capricorns are innately good at taking on the comprehensive responsibilities of such collective ventures for they are naturally born leaders and committed ones at that.    

People born under the stars of this constellation are usually of an intellectual adroitness beyond their actual years. A personalized form of the Capricornian formative energy might be a three year to four year-old toddler with a very high IQ. Have you ever watched one in action in a kindergarten playground? These little mischievous angels are masters of manipulation. They loiter about sizing other kids up, figuring out what makes them tick, and subsequently flicking on the mental switches that will elicit complete acceptance, veneration, respect, and affinity on their part. Moreover, they also love the power that comes with positions of elevated status and authority and will always pick roles where they are able to order everyone around and be the centre of attention. The wisdom and insight pervading these little beings carry is extraordinary; they learn and identify what behaviours are encouraged and rewarded by parents, teachers, and other adults and will cunningly adopt them for the sake of obtaining what they want. Mature Capricorns very much like mischievous children with very high IQs. They are creatures of atypical restraint and a calculated, cautious temperament that can use their charm, wit and infective cheerfulness to ascend the wrungs of the social ladder and miraculously leave the people they mingled with to get there feeling cherished and esteemed. This talent serves them especially well in professional endeavours whereby expertise, skill level, and personality provide the requisite ammunition in catapulting an employee to the top of the pecking order. The Goat wants to please and to be pleased; a mutually satisfying situation it hopes will assist in its plans to achieve widescale success.    

If we were to attach a Jungian archetype to this star sign it would definitely be The Perfectionist. Mediocrity, poor performance, procrastination, and indolence are non-existent in the Capricornian language and dictionary. The Goat expects much of others and even more of itself, a characteristic which sometimes proves beneficial and sometimes detrimental. It gravitates towards and gels well with those who are equally ambitious, driven, conscientious, and tunnel-visioned but can intimidate meeker and more submissive character types that lack focus, aspirations, and long-term goals. Generating a vision that will contribute something valuable to the society in which it lives and slowly lighting the hermetic fires that will bring it to fruition is big on its lifelong list of things-to-do. Lamentably, a motivated Capricorn can become so fixated on achieving success in all areas of his or her life–finance, love, and professional career–that he or she becomes merciless, indifferent, and as unyielding as a piece of sandalwood trapped between two giant boulders. Unlike a great many that capitulate to the ideals of political correctness, Capricorn is not afraid to employ disciplinary action against inferiors that persistently transgress.

Being a cardinal sign Capricorn is no stranger to activity, fast-paced rhythms, and spirited involvement.  The Goat prefers to circumnavigate the world over and over and over until its limbs drop off rather than remain motionless and caged up in some suburban neighbourhood. It likes to be in constant motion physically, mentally, and intellectually; it wants to be creative and innovative in adding to its chosen field of inquiry but at the same time it yearns for recognition, honour and vindication as validation of these valuable contributions. Just as the sure-footed mountain goat can persevere in traversing precipitous terrain that other animals wouldn’t go anywhere near for fear of plunging to their deaths, so too does the Capricorn soul exude inner strength and resilience in the face of adversity. Unlike some of the other members of the zodiac which give up prematurely or won’t even try for fear of failure, Capricorn will keep chipping away at a foot of a megalithic problem until so much of it is underrun that it collapses in on itself. Of course there are times when the Goat’s unrelenting efforts don’t pay off and this can create psychological torture that leads to bitterness, depression, neurosis, and even psychosis if the condition remains unaddressed. An afflicted Goat can become so riddled by insecurities, self-doubts, and psychological hindrances that it will invert its own social nature and seek solace in escapist activities like daydreaming, reading romance fiction, playing computer games, and watching movies.

“What doesn’t hurt you will only make you stronger!” the resilient Capricorn shouts. “You must endure pain, suffering, and symbolic death during the course of your life in order to become the person you were meant to be. Life is all about improving the world in which we live and adding to it in a constructive manner. Hence there is no room for laziness, lawlessness, or immoralities. The world is our only home. What good would it be to us if it were an asymmetrical place of anarchy, confusion, and absurdity? Everybody needs to have a meaningful role in society that contributes to the harmonious functioning of the whole. Look at bees, for instance. Their society is a sort of autonomous monarchy comprised of drones, female workers, and the queen herself. All these little beings are intensely aware of their position and function in the hierarchy and adhere to it like the universe adheres to the laws of physics. They are all as assiduous as each other and we would do well to borrow and implement the same approach. Success in life comes through industry, focus, and hard yakka (hard work) folks; nothing more, nothing less.

Some people say that I resemble the winter solstice in that I’m sometimes cold and chilly, reserved, and rather impersonal in my dealings with others. This is not my true self, but rather an iron armour or shell which the contingencies of life have forced upon me. I’m a realist so I’d be the first to admit that the world can be a cruel and nasty place. Even though most wouldn’t admit to such, self-interest happens to be a primary urge amongst human beings and their tireless search for validation usually entails a confrontation with the less flattering attributes of the collective temperament. Hence it’s important to put up psychic defences that will guard your soft, squishy, and sensitive interior at all times. The human soul, my friends, is an abyss of human sentiments, and mine is no different. I will sing, dance, cry, laugh, and share intimate details of my life with individuals who manage to gain my love and complete trust, namely those that are going places and doing exciting things with themselves.  As you know, I’m a sucker for security, attention, and status and the best way to get it is to be around those VIPs best able to open doors and facilitate it. I’m not an elitist in any way, but relationships built on synthetically constructed dependencies are an outgrowth of the Western culture in which we are born and raised. We need to work with that rather than against it for the sake of acquiring what we want!”

Capricorn the Goat is connected to two symbols that link the constellation with the reascention of the sun from its seasonal slumber. The first of these is a terrestrial goat or goat-fish crossbreed that has its iconographical origins in the ancient civilization of Mesopotamia. This is depicted morphologically as a sea monster; sometimes as a hybrid goat-fish with the four limbs of a goat and a fish tail and at other times as a sea goat with the posterior of a serpent. Most early cultures perceived that their collective histories were woven into the heavenly constellations and the Sumerians were no different.  Foremost of the symbols belonging to the Sumerian god Enki were a goat and a fish, both of which had amalgamated into the astrological totem we recognise today by the second millennium bce. Originally, Capricorn probably descried an early matriarchal situation of the Middle East in which the earliest monolithic structures of Babylon rose vertically out of a semi-arid breadth of shallow lagoons, reed banks, mud flats, and marshes. The horns of the goat were celestial markers for Mesopotamia’s two principle cities, Babylon and Nineveh; the first was built along the river Euphrates and the second along the Tigris, respectively.

Constructed during the Ptolemaic Period (323-30bce) of Egypt’s illustrious history, the circular and rectangular zodiacs in the Temple of Hathor at Denderah bequeath to us the ancient zodiacal pictograms for the twelve signs. A fleeting glace will show that the vast majority of these have remained largely unchanged. With respect to the Capricorn constellation, the zodiacal band on the circular Denderah zodiac shows the figure of a goat with two legs adjoined to the rear end and tail of a fish. Though the signs and figures of the sky represented on these chronometers express a markedly Chaldean and Hellenistic influence, we can be sure that the autochthonous Egyptians explicitly understood the celestial zone and functional image of the sign as a marker of astronomical rebirth and solar reascent because demotic representations show an ankh, the symbol of life, and an aquatic tadpole with its hindquarters on solid ground (the inverse of the sea-goat image). Hence the Egyptians may have been aware of the twelvefold division of the zodiacal band way before Babylonian cosmogony merged with that of their own under a Hellenistic patina.

The Greeks themselves, who borrowed leisurely from Chaldean astrology, forged an association with their god Pan and with Zeus’s foster mother Amalthea. According to a cycle of Hellenistic myths that chronicle the Titanomachy, a ten-year war between the fearsome Titans and the renowned Olympians, the horned goat-god Pan fought the monster Typhon. In order to evade detection and escape unscathed, he dove into the tepid waters of the Nile. The section of the river into which Pan jumped encompassed magical properties and instigated a physiological transformation upon anything it came into contact with. Thus the parts that were submerged in water, namely his lower body and legs, morphed into a fish whilst his head and upper torso remained unchanged. On the other hand Amalthea was the she-goat that suckled the infant Zeus in a grotto of Mount Aigaion on the Mediterranean island of Crete. In order to save him from being cannibalised by his own father Cronus, Amalthea gathered the Kouretes, the armed and crested dancers of the earth, and prompted them to create an aural bedlam as to mask the cries of the infant.

The second symbol, an astrological shorthand used by astrologers in the casting of horoscopes, is a squiggle comprised of curves, a loop, and sometimes a straight line that could be interpreted as the goat’s horns. Looking at the variant forms of the Capricorn sigil, it is easy to see how the zodiacal imagery was appropriated to create a much simpler and rudimentary illustration recalling the Capricorn’s dualistic nature and primary ambition. With half of its being in the watery chaos of other worlds and dimensions and the other half trotting on three-dimensional and material notions of solid ground, Capricorn wishes to find a balance between the ethereal and material and the sigil no doubt demonstrates this. There are many sayings associated with Capricorn, the best known being that time itself would end when its cluster of stars huddled above the horizon. This sentiment probably has its origins in the fact that the sun transits this section of the zodiacal band at a time when the formative forces of Mother Nature are at the weakest, as well as in the perception that Saturn, the deity intimately connected with cosmic law and the mediation of time, was exalted in this sign.

In the northern hemisphere the constellation of Capricorn appears in the night sky at the time when the solar orb has descended to the nethermost regions of its celestial journey, also known as the winter solstice. Many cultures of the world such as those of the Far East have interpreted this time as the astronomical resurrection of the annual cycle, and therefore a marker for the New Year. This was usually a just and prosperous period which might be equated with a Golden Age when the earth gave back to its mortal children abundance by sending down the rains and offering up a good harvest. It’s probably no surprise that the ruler of this sign, Saturn or the Greek Cronus, holds a sheaf of corn in one hand and a sickle in the other. Together these symbols denote an earned condition of fecundity, justice, and strength which so often comes when one is patient, diligent and perseveres in their chosen field of physical or intellectual inquiry. Taking into consideration the time of the year in which the sun traverses its domain, its earthly, cardinal nature along with its planetary ruler, it would not be unjustified to claim that the Capricorn psyche is honourable, self-disciplined, ambitious, and grounded with partial participation in mystical and speculative philosophy. Just as the astrological pictogram suggests, Capricorn is a very versatile sign once it has completely evolved and can switch from a worldly and ambitious extroversion to a spiritual and contemplative introversion in the manner that nymphs, the larvae of dragonflies, will desert their aquatic environment and transition to an avian mode of existence upon reaching adulthood. Consequently Capricorn’s formative energies reconcile the conscious and sure-footed will with its intuitive and psychic origins, the somnolent unconscious.