#i ask for advice to my senior comrade

[selamat-linting]

vagueposting but it confuses the shit out of me when people on tumblr praises someone for founding a company like, so many of you here proclaims yourself a leftist but thinks its commendable when someone is creating jobs like, did you read anything about the exploitation of surplus value or have you been phoning it in? no matter how kind a boss is, profits are still the result of the worker's labour power, one that the bosses dont fucking deserve to take. even if the company is in the red, the time and effort spent by the workers will never be properly compensated. but okay, fine, this is a capitalist world, we all gotta work to eat and being a ceo is not a sin but like, dont act like starting a company is a moral act either.

also some of you trust company pr way too easily. no matter how much a business brands themselves as a counterculture or as an alternative, theyre still operating under capitalism! to survive they have to follow what sells or at least signal potential growth to investors. whatever idealism they have will be quickly eroded and there's always an effort to cut costs that could endanger workers. this is a universal truth in all industry. more business competition only means that there will be more of the same shit in different wrappers. same brand of cereal with different boxes. and the workers will never ever get any material benefit from it because the trickle down effect is a fucking myth no matter where it is or who youre working for. a rising tide lifts all ships is a myth. honestly bullshit like this could be spotted from a mile away but so many people i know are always shocked whenever a company they think is good are doing a crime even (especially) the self proclaimed leftist ones. what the hell? i thought yall are reading marx! i thought youre all observing the news and the world around you!!!

[beanghostprincess]

Tumblr crossed soul mates yessssssss you have the BEST opinions and dropping asks here is so much fun and really it's the highlight of my day.

Shanks trying to get flirting advice from the crew, specifically Roger, is both so in character and absolutely hilarious. Like. Dropping my own headcanon here, but I feel like Rouge was probably ALSO a badass of a woman, and so Roger's type is women who could destroy me. Shanks has the same taste, plus a little extra friends-to-lovers trope seasoning for extra Flavor. Crocus is just off to the side, either NO help or equally as bad. Rayleigh is certain he's going gray already bc of the Shenanigans.

Imagine for a moment that Shanks keeps Not Being Clear. He thinks he's being OBVIOUS, but Buggy, while Suspecting Smth, isn't gonna make it easy on him (she also is terrified to be misreading things and refuses to take that chance. She talks mad shit, but Shanks is her PERSON. Of course she loves him, of course he's her soulmate, her beloved, her bst friend, her comrade, of course of course of course. But she'd rather remain best friends and pining inside than risk losing him at all.).

It comes to a head when they have their Regularly Scheduled Whitebeard V Roger Fight.

((Insert a crack ship here but-)) Maybe, after the battle, during the cool down, this time around there's no Teach to set Buggy's instincts off. Maybe Marco, just a few years the cabin kids' senior, has Noticed Buggy. Maybe the Phoenix is preening and fighting weird, sudden instincts and is so absolutely FLUSTERED by it. Maybe Buggy is, in turn, flustered or flattered by the attention - maybe she even misconstrues it.

Marco is letting Buggy look over his books, is offering her his hand when boarding or stepping off a ship - either ship, mind you - is sharing his food, is shouldering others aside to give her something Shiny and Pretty, is attentive to if she shivers, if she sweats, offers her comfortable places to sit, is just.... in her orbit.

And Shanks does not like that, not one bit.

So he's in a Mood, as one would expect of a jealous teen boy, no matter his general disposition.

Others have noticed by now, the intense glaring matches between Marco and Shanks are shooting over an oblivious Buggy's head. She's just too excited by treasures, fabrics, textures and books to care much about the boys - until the evening.

Marco invites her to read together by the firelight, a blanket in one arm. She's tempted - he has a few books on constellations that she's debating lifting from their dusty shelves, and so few on the Oro Jackson enjoy reading the way she does.

But then a hand hooks decisively on her waist. Suddenly, Shanks is beside her, arm around her, holding her, pinning her, to his side and chest as he shoots what may generously be called a smile at the zoan devil fruit user.

"Buggy is capable of speaking for herself, Red-yoi."

"Oh, she is! Absolutely, I'll never cast doubt on that. She's spirited, alright. But ya know something, bird brain?" His eyes darken, smiled falling. "She's mine."

"Is she now?"

"If she wants to be - I won't force it. But watch your hands. Don't get so touchy with my Buggy."

"Stay in your lane, Shanks-yoi."

And suddenly the hand on her waist is gone. Suddenly Shanks is gone. Suddenly there's a brawl, right there, and Buggy is left gaping as her brain works on overdrive.

Half the assembled crews are drunk and cheering them on, a good chunk are asleep or off wandering, but Buggy is soon swept into the safe cocoon of Toki's arms, tucked to her side.

She is transfered to Roger, to Rayleigh, taken home and calmed down because the fragile, precarious structure she has assembled now has become full of unknowns. She's losing her mind over it, but more than that, she's fighting a desperate hope that she hates herself for having.

Shanks can do so much better than her, she tells herself.

The boy in question comes staggering in soon after - he was pissed at Marco, sure, but he noticed when she started panicking, when she began floating, when she was gone - and he came for her. He came as quickly as he could.

And he apologizes. "I shouldn't have called you mine."

Her chest feels like it's been stabbed.

He continues without hesitation. "You're your own person. You're too bright and smart and strong and awesome to just be some guy's girl. You're Buggy, and my feelings for you shouldn't ever take that away from you."

"What..."

"Mm?"

"What are you feelings for me?"

And they cry that night. They yell, and scream, and cry, and laugh, and when they fall asleep, it's tangled together in his hammock, her head resting on his chest and his grin buried in blue curls.

Marco and Shanks, both as adults, still have a semi-playful rivalry going on where they're down to throw hands at the drop of a hat, but it's all in good fun. They still sometimes argue over Buggy, but it's mostly to get her to blush, cackle or yell at them - usually, all three, though not in that order. Marco calls her "the one that got away" and makes the melodramatic "sometimes I can still hear her voice-" comments if only bc it makes people either laugh, groan, or get absolutely flabbergasted.

He was invited to their wedding.

AAA I'm so glad you're having fun sending the asks because I have so much fun reading your ideas <33 They're just SO good.

This is all PERFECT. Rouge was definitely a badass of a woman and somehow Roger managed to date her. Somehow. He doesn't know. He thinks he knows. He doesn't. And his advice isn't really that helpful for Shanks, ngl. He's just left without knowing exactly what to do to win Buggy's heart, but at least he can talk to Roger about it.

And,,, The Marco thing,,, The jealousy,, Especially with the rizz this man has, honestly, Shanks is righteously feeling intimidated. He's older than them and he's hotter. He looks more mature and calm and he reads and does those things Buggy enjoys. He makes her laugh, too, and Shanks is furious because he should be the one making her laugh!! It's not only that it makes him mad, but also, it makes him feel insecure about himself and his abilities. The thing is, Marco makes Buggy feel comfortable and appreciates her a lot, but he isn't Shanks. She thinks that Shanks doesn't feel the same and she won't confess either because she's scared of ruining their friendship. So Marco is the best option here, right? She should settle for him. But he isn't Shanks. And Shanks knows he doesn't have any right to claim Buggy or whatever, but this is pissing him off a lot. Both of them being stupid and feeling insecure about the other's feelings is so good,, And then they talk things out, of course, because Shanks shouldn't have said those things, but also Buggy did like it. Kind of. The fact that he was so protective of her. And that night they finally confess and kiss for the first time and it's just so good-- They laugh and whisper sweet nothings between kisses and it's the first time they do it but it feels so right. Buggy thinks about them being soulmates, but Shanks is the one to say it out loud.

And ever since, Shanks and Marco have had this rivalry and nobody knows exactly why because they never tell people about it. But it's just so hilarious to see them bicker for something that happened years ago. Every time Buggy remembers that, her self-esteem goes higher and higher, so at least she gets something good out of it.

[welcometoteyvat]

okok this is the addendum to the previous tag rambles (most of this was written before I played lantern rite pt 3 lol it should be noticeable)

it took me ages to find the right word but estranged is the correct term id use to describe gaming's relationship w his family...... and i also was blanking on how to describe xiao's situation... what i meant was that xiao doesn't rlly have any relationships that have been ruined on the basis of emotional/ideological conflict, and still have the potential to be repaired w better communication, letting go of one’s pride, etc. i feel like w gaming theres a feeling of "if I just compromised more, took more of my old man's suggestions, was gentler with my mom, maybe it wouldn't have turned out like this". with xiao there's just a doomed inevitability, like even if they did everything correctly, quelled evil vigilantly, took care of each other how comrades in arms and martial siblings should, the yakshas still would have ended like this—3 dead, one without closure for 500 years, juniors (eg pervases) all gone too soon. also i feel like part of him thinks it's deserved (for him to lose those he was close to) which is another story uhhh. anyways all this to say i dont think he would be able to personally relate a lot to gamings situation bc gm's got a lot more emotional tension between his own wishes vs what he knows would make peace w his dad sooner. xiaos personal wishes already align with what he's been assigned to do, and if they didn't, he'll just ignore them to focus on his job, so theyre kinda stuck in quite diff situations. idk if he'd be able to empathize but that doesn't mean he cant be supportive

also they already have a plausible way to meet, gaming + xianyun + xiao semi awkward meetup over tea or something but there's no way anyone can dislike a warm lion dancer boy whose every word is sincere and who’s generally so hospitable and charming.. if they were to be mentor disciple or smth i think gaming would have to be the one to ask for it tho, and i dk if he has the motive for that. but anyways

x is like pretty strict as anyone’s senior—probably actually agrees with xingqiu that the best weapon is just an extension of yourself, and probably makes gm train over and over and over until idk he’s tired as all hell and doesn���t think he’ll be able to push himself any further. but there should also be a scene where he notices that gaming has dried tear streaks on his face that he forgot to clean and [idk insert normal training sequence, but xiao says something unexpected at the end, showing that he noticed and is trying to give advice, prompting self reflection from gaming] idk where im really going with this i just think it would be good for both of them [somehow] [my brain is gone] people who are lonely in 2 different ways meet up, one of those enthusiastic disciple + aloof mentor pairing that somehow works despite them seeming so different. gaming seems like the type of person who xiao would decide to indulge bc he’s literally just a little guy. conclusion read solitude is my oldest friend by sicker on ao3 and this long ramble will be unnecessary

ykw ga-mings stories still make me emo i really need one of those good old character study comics rn

[alstroemeriadissonance]

Close Friends (NSFW)

Brainrot that just randomly occurred in my head and throwing my fic queue schedule in total disarray

So many self-indulgent talky bits, but I thoroughly enjoyed writing it so hopefully its an okay read too? ^^;

Rosa is plagued with a strange compulsion to do a certain act, thoroughly distracting her from work. Kiki suggests she seek the help of her closest, most special friend, Dr. Vyn Richter.

Rosa slightly unhinged. Vyn unhinged as usual. Huzzah

“And the way they just did it after he saved her!” Kiki gushed over her strawberry parfait. She frantically scrolled the display of her smartphone until it showed the very paragraph she had been overly enthusiastic about, pushing the device across the table towards Rosa. “Read it! Read it!

“Mmm…” Rosa—a spoonful of banana split still in her mouth—gingerly took Kiki’s phone and read the displayed text at her friend’s behest as she ate her strawberry ice cream. "Hey. This is damn hot… but I can't help but think something is missing…" she eventually said, after washing down the ice cream with a swig of ice-cold water.

"How's—fuck—that?" He said in a low voice as he kept on thrusting inside her, searching for a suitable rhythm. He supported her weight by holding her in place by the waist, their mouths joining from time to time to let their tongues lap at each other in sloppy, hungry kisses.

There was quite the striking contrast between the contents of the text that they were reading, and the place where they were doing the reading: a packed ice cream parlor, located in one of the busiest areas of the Central Business District. Rosa and Kiki were surrounded by other, wholesome, patrons—families, kids, behaved couples—and there they were, reading smut off Kiki’s smartphone.

“What’s missing?” Kiki raised an eyebrow. “Like…this thing has everything in it: action, sex, jealousy!” she exclaimed in mock ecstasy. “Everything a depraved girl could ever ask for.”

“Hmm…” Rosa sighed as she handed the phone back to Kiki. “I don’t know…there’s something I’m really, really hung up on and I can’t seem to get it out of my head.”

“Now I’m curious,” Kiki said. “What’s up?”

“Exactly what that fic lacks.” Rosa took another spoonful of strawberry ice cream. “Um.”

“Uhuh?” Kiki prodded. “And what is it, exactly?”

“Well. Actually,” Rosa said as she placed her ice cream spoon onto her bowl still half-filled with ice cream and bananas, folding her hands onto the table as she looked at Kiki squarely in the eye. 

“I feel like sucking a dick.”

Unfazed, Kiki could only grin at her comrade. “You, my girl, have a problem. But you know what? I totally feel you.”

“Ugh. Why are you not even surprised, I should feel offended,” Rosa groaned as she grabbed her glass of ice-cold water. 

“Ehh, it’s not as if it’s that weird,” Kiki shrugged. “You’re stressed out. Probably just needed some stress relief, you know?”

“Yeah, but—” Rosa took another swig of her water, and almost slammed the glass onto the diner-style table. “Sucking dick? Why is my urge so specific?”

She realized that she was talking a bit too loudly when the occupants from the two nearest tables next to theirs suddenly turned their heads toward her. 

Blushing, Rosa ducked in half-hearted shame and continued in a quieter voice: “I mean…you know what I’m talking about, right? And it's been distracting me too much at work, even Mr. Wing is starting to notice…” her voice trailed off, cringing at the various recollections of awkward conversations with her senior partner.

“Yeah, but…” Kiki sighed. “I’m hardly qualified to give you advice on that.”

“Well, I guess I’m going to stay repressed and stew in my—”

“Hey,” Kiki suddenly cut in.

“What?” Rosa whined as she started to wallow in thoughts of suffering pent-up sexual repression left unaddressed.

Kiki leaned over the table, then whispered to Rosa, “Aren’t you friends with that hot shrink?”

“Hot…shrink…?” Rosa furrowed her eyebrows. “Huh?”

Kiki rolled her eyes. “Oh you know! That half-European guy who likes to hang around you whenever he drops by the office!”

Rosa blinked at Kiki as she finally made the connection. “You…you mean, Dr. Richter?”

“Yes!” Kiki said, incredulous. “You mean you never even considered him attractive? You never looked at him that way?”

“Er…” Rosa gulped. 

Numerous cogs that she never thought even existed in her brain started to turn: What Kiki said was true. She never really thought of Dr. Vyn Richter as anyone other than a friend, one she could rely upon on professional and even some of her personal matters. 

To Rosa, he was someone she shared interests with, since he never laughed at anything she liked, be it a passing fancy towards occultism, or sudden interest in baking….

And now that Kiki had pointed it out, Rosa couldn’t help but realize that, yes, Dr. Vyn Richter, with his striking half-European features and his elegant mannerisms, was actually pretty hot. 

“...yeah, I mean…he’s sort of a bit too friendly, you know? And he gives off this air of…I don’t know, like he’s a bit too perfect.” Rosa started to dig into her banana split once again. “So he’s hands off in my book.”

“Yeah, but nothing’s stopping you from asking him about your little horny problem,” Kiki pointed out. “He’s a shrink, Rosa. He’s heard worse problems.”

“But he’s a guy—”

Kiki gave her a pitying look, then dabbed her lips with a tissue. “Women aren’t any better. The most judgy people I know are mostly girls, for one thing.”

Rosa briefly considered Kiki’s assertion. “Yeah, true,” she said after some thought.

“So pay your special friend a visit and ask him what you can do about it.”

===

Vyn couldn’t help but feel a little anxious upon learning that Rosa had walked in for a consultation. 

He tapped his fountain pen onto the glass surface of his executive desk, while he read Rosa’s vaguely worded medical form. Possible issues stemming from work stress, it stated.

He put down the tablet and rubbed his temples. Well, that could mean anything, really.

Vyn was very much familiar with Rosa’s tendency to exhaust all options available to her before asking for help from other people—from himself, most especially, no matter how much he tried to tell her that he wanted to help her as much as he could, to the best of his abilities….

Needless to say, he was worried. 

He was worried, only a smidgen, yet he could not shake off the nagging feeling that hung around his chest.

The door then swung open, forcing Vyn to surface out of his worried thoughts.

It was Rosa, of course—his beloved rose in all her charming yet innocent, unassuming glory—and from what he could tell through a cursory glance she had none of the tells that may point towards any serious problems. 

Good. Maybe she is here for something work related, after all. 

But stress…?

Vyn promptly shelved everything that belied his uneasiness, leaving only a bright, beaming smile on his face that he mostly reserved for her. “Hello, Rosa, it’s always a pleasure to see you.”

“Um. Hi, Dr. Richter,” Rosa returned his smile with her shy own, and made her way to one of the two chairs set in front of his executive table.

“Please, you are my guest. Let us have a bit of tea while we chat.” Vyn pushed himself from his seat and gestured towards the more comfortable-looking lounge chair-and-table set by the far corner of his office.

The psychiatrist then crossed the distance to the small kitchenette in his office, hidden from general view by an artfully-placed ornate divider. “Do make yourself comfortable while I prepare some refreshments for us. I do feel like having a bit of a break, myself.”

“You don’t have to, Dr. Richter,” Rosa said quietly, but sat herself in one of the plush leather lounge chairs anyway. “Um…also, I sort of feel bad for making you work during your break…”

Vyn had to chuckle at her words. “Nonsense. Time spent with you is always a welcome respite,” he said, voice gentle and soothing, as he poured loose tea leaves and dried lavender buds into the designated chamber in his ceramic teapot. “And I am always happy to hear from my closest friend.”

Unbeknownst to Rosa, the act of making tea also served another purpose. 

It allowed Vyn, hidden behind the divider, to watch Rosa’s mannerisms, gestures, as she waited for him. It gave him a chance to observe her unimpeded, so to speak, when he was not sitting with her, making it less likely for her to put on a front while he eyed her for microexpressions or any other similar indicators.

She is fidgeting, he noted, his brows furrowing at the sight of Rosa wringing her hands and moving her legs every so often.

He took his time steeping his tea, more so than usual, but at that point he wasn’t too concerned about the minute impact it would have on the taste of his lavender infusion. Rosa’s wellbeing came first and foremost, and Vyn needed to watch her for anything that could clue him in…

Yet apart from her nervous fidgeting, nothing else stuck out at him, and so after some time he eventually emerged from the kitchenette bearing a tray laden with tea and some cookies.

After pouring tea into both their cups Vyn sat himself in the plush chair opposite hers, crossing his legs to make him appear unbothered and relaxed around her. “How was your day so far?”

“Ah, well…” Rosa absent-mindedly brought her fingers to the side of her face, tucking a non-existent strand of hair behind her ear. “Samey.”

I have never seen her so nervous before. “Mm-hmm.” Vyn raised his cup to his lips. “The way you are being very nervous right now, however,” he took a sip of his tea, and frowned a little as he realized that it was a little on the bitter side as a result of over-steeping. “Does not seem all ‘samey’ to me.” He put his cup back onto its saucer. “Would you not tell your closest friend what is bothering you?”

Rosa sighed. Then moaned “Why did I let Kiki talk me into going here,” under her breath.

Vyn raised his eyebrows. “Miss Kiki?” A pause. “If you are this bothered, then your work friend made the best call in suggesting you come to me for help.”

Rosa then groaned, “Ugh, you weren’t supposed to hear that but okay.” She buried her face in her hands.

The doctor merely sat there quietly, letting Rosa compose herself, hiding his own anxiety with methodical, deliberate motions of sipping his tea.

They both sat there in relative silence: Rosa softly keening in embarrassment; Vyn calmly drinking his tea.

Then he decided to break the silence. “I assure you, you can tell me anything, and none of it will get out of these walls.” Another sip on his almost-empty teacup. “Otherwise, I would be violating our code.”

Rosa sighed. “Fine. You win as always, Dr. Richter.” She wrung her hands again. “Well, you’ve noticed how stressed I am at work.”

Vyn said nothing, only nodding at her to show he was listening.

“Well. Ah. It’s…” More wringing of hands. “Trying to manifest in certain ways. Um.”

Long, slender fingers picked out a dark chocolate cookie laced with matcha ripple. “Yes, that is to be expected. People under extreme stress may experience compulsion to do any of a myriad possible things, to blow off steam, so to speak,” Vyn said before biting off a piece of cookie. 

Rosa moved on to twiddling thumbs. “Yes. Compulsion. I guess…that’s an apt word.”

“Compulsion to…?” Vyn let his voice trail off as he poured himself another cup of tea. 

“It’s so hard to put into words…” Rosa murmured, more to herself.

“Once again, Rosa, it is part of my duty to ensure secrecy.” He lifted the cup to his mouth, lips resting against the warm rim of the ceramic teacup. “Is it so dire as the impulse to—” Vyn then proceeded to voice out one of the more serious manifestations of pent-up workplace stress, as a way to encourage her to open up. “...Report for work at Themis Law armed with a semi-automatic machine gun and…going to town with it?” 

Another sip of tea.

“No, Dr. Richter,” Rosa said, her voice flat. Then came the few words that Vyn least expected to come from her mouth, not before this very moment: “All day, every day, all I ever think about is wanting to suck someone’s dick.”

Vyn promptly coughed out his tea, spilling hot liquid all over his waistcoat.

Rosa now audibly moaned. “See? See?” 

Despite her anguished shame she still had the presence of mind to quickly grab the nearby tissue caddy, leaning over the table to help Vyn dab the liquid off his clothes. “This is why I didn’t want to talk about it!”

“No, no, I am sorry, I truly am,” Vyn quickly muttered as his fingers took more tissues and patted away the spots of pale purple liquid from his white coat. “My apologies…”

Then, in a fit of very rare impulse, Vyn grabbed Rosa’s hands that were still trying to clean his waistcoat, and held her miserable gaze with his earnest own. 

“Rosa, yes, I will admit I was taken by surprise, but,” He squeezed her hands. “With that out of the way, I will still help you, and I am very much qualified to do so. Will you not trust me on this one?”

Rosa’s lower lip trembled under his gaze. “Just so you know, Dr. Richter, I’m already at the lowest depths of my shame and I can’t believe I owned up to my depravity to you of all people and I really really can’t go any lower right now and—” she babbled, averting her eyes away from his, her mind clearly going on the fritz. “I can’t…I don’t think I can take th—”

“Rosa. Rosa.” Vyn still did not let go of her hands. He lowered his voice, carefully modulating it to avoid upsetting her even further. “Sssh, it is alright. It is not as serious as you think it is.” He let his thumbs rub against her wrists, reassuringly. “Calm down.” 

His voice was soft, yet firm; as firm as his hold around her wrists. “Look at me. Look at me, Rosa. Ssh.”

Slowly, Rosa trained her eyes onto his face once again. “O…kay?”

Somehow she looked at him quite oddly, but at the confusion of the moment Vyn didn't quite catch it until much, much later. 

When it was much too late. 

Smiling gently, Vyn placed one of Rosa’s hands onto his chest. “Breathe along with me. You can do this much, yes?”

Rosa nodded quietly, her eyes still not leaving his face, as if transfixed.

“Alright then.” Vyn motioned for Rosa to sit down once again into the plush chair, and, with her hand still pressed against his chest he knelt in front of her chair, leaning forward to touch her forehead with his.

Her skin felt warm, even slightly feverish. 

He then started to inhale and exhale deep breaths, in slow cadence; letting Rosa feel his chest rise and fall underneath her palm. Their breathing mingled with each other’s, Vyn's leading Rosa's to a slower  tempo. 

Gradually her erratic breathing smoothed into a more regular rhythm, and her trembling ceased.

This went on for one full minute, after which their breaths finally synchronized with each other’s and Rosa finally calmed down. 

A long, drawn out sigh escaped her lips. “...sorry about that,” she murmured, face slightly flushed as Vyn let her go. “But yeah. I’m sorry you had to hear that.” She sank lower in her chair, arms wrapped around herself.

Rosa furtively snuck glances at him. 

Vyn padded back to the chair opposite hers. “Stop apologizing for something that is not wrong, Rosa,” he said, a wry smile on his face. “So your chosen outlet is of a sexual nature. You are a healthy adult. What of it?”

“It being painfully embarrassing aside,” Rosa said, worrying her lip with her bottom teeth, “It’s also getting in the way of work. It’s…distracting, to say the least.” Another sigh. “I’ve been so out of it lately, and the novels that Kiki have been making me read lately are making it worse…”

“And this particular impulse to perform fellatio, this manifests when you are experiencing work stress?” Vyn asked, tone as neutral as possible. “Does it also manifest with other stressors, like anxiety, perhaps?”

“Yes, and yes,” Rosa finally found it in herself to reach for her cup of tea, now cold. “I um. Deal with it by reading the stuff Kiki sends my way. In private, of course.” She knocked back the entire teacup’s worth of drink in one go.

“Reading…?” Vyn prompted her to elaborate further.

“Smut,” Rosa said.

“Ah,” was all he could say in response.

“Hmm. Did you start taking any new medicine recently? Or any changes to existing medication, perhaps?” Vyn tried to suss out if her case qualifies as one of compulsive sexual behavior.

A spike in libido, in other words.

“No. Not taking anything regularly, except for the usual headache medicine I sometimes need to take in the morning after a bad overtime.” Rosa absently took a bite from a butter cookie. “Why, Dr. Richter?”

Vyn refilled Rosa’s cup. “Okay. With that ruled out…at the moment I think it is safe to say that what you have is a clear, simple case of pent-up stress.” He gave Rosa a tight-lipped smile. “Do you mind if I start asking some probing, possibly uncomfortable questions? If any of my questions make you uncomfortable or offend you, let me know, and I will drop it.”

Rosa blinked, then fell into silence for a few moments, as if giving it some thought. Then, “Well, I think you’ve heard the worst of it, so,” she shrugged, then took the warm, refilled teacup with both hands. “Shoot, Dr. Richter.”

“And take my shot I will, then,” Vyn smiled. “Alright, first of which is…do you have a partner? Someone you are intimate with?” 

Ah, there I go, asking questions I do not want to hear the answer to. Vyn's neutral face colored with a hint of pleasantry perfectly hid his chagrin. 

Thankfully, Rosa shook her head, “Nope. Sexually frustrated here,” she said. “If I did, I probably wouldn’t be here in the first place, Dr. Richter,” she said with a lopsided grin. “That makes it a weird question, no?”

Ah, sharp as always. “Not necessarily, no,” Vyn blithely countered, side-stepping any chance for Rosa to find out that his questions are actually of a selfish nature. “There are instances where a couple may need therapy to address any issues arising from mismatched libido, which may, in turn,” he gestures towards her. “Also cause problems similar to yours.”

“...Okay,” Rosa murmured. “But um. Yeah, no partner.”

He nods. “Alright. Since you do not have a partner; I have another question, to try and determine how exactly this impacts you negatively.”

Should I ask this now?  He mulled as he made a show of refilling his tea and taking a butter cookie from the tray, stalling for time to let him weigh his options. 

The question he now wanted to ask was something he always wondered, something he wanted to be more certain about, and now that the chance to ask has presented itself he wanted to grasp it with both hands and take it. 

Vyn then, with the driest and most clinical voice he could muster, asked, “Do you feel like this stress-induced compulsion of yours is making you look at any male colleagues in your law firm as a desired sexual partner?”

There.

Let the chips fall where they may. 

This time, Rosa did look taken aback, and Vyn feared that he may have gone too far. Yet her reaction was indeed strong, but in a way that he did not expect.

“Hell no!” She exclaimed incredulously. “Whenever I see them, all they remind me of is work, work, work. All of them in Themis,” she did a mock grimace. “Ugh, no. Please.”

Behind Vyn’s poker faced facade his heart soared, and angels sang at the back of his head. 

Yes! 

He then cleared his throat. 

One more. 

“Maybe I should rephrase the question a bit. With the compulsion to perform that certain act in mind, have you started looking at any of your male colleagues as a potential sexual partner?”

“Um. Hahaha.” Rosa raised an eyebrow at him, yet remained quiet after that. She took another bite from the butter cookie she had been nibbling on.

Vyn—strangely seized by a strong need to exploit the very rare chance to ask otherwise very inappropriate questions—decided to wait in silence for half a minute. If, perhaps, if that half minute lapsed without her saying anything, or if she outright declined to answer the question, then he would drop it—

“...yes, actually,” Rosa eventually said, at the twenty-seventh second. 

Vyn’s mouth suddenly went dry.

“Mm-hmm,” Vyn hummed as noncommittally-sounding as possible. “I see. It is not at all strange. Sexual tension between friends happen more often than people would like to think.” He took a sip of tea, letting the much-needed feeling of warmth spread in his throat, to calm his own nerves. “Perhaps I can help you in this regard?” 

The irony in his words did not escape him. Not at all.

“Help…how?” Rosa was understandably suspicious.

Realizing that he was already far in too deep at this point, Vyn decided to play it off coolly. “Well. If I am familiar with this person you are interested in, perhaps I may help you with a few po—”

“Oh, you are very familiar with this person I am currently eyeing, Dr. Richter,” Rosa murmured quietly.

Behind his unassuming, lazy smile, Vyn’s stomach suddenly plummeted. The way she worded it. Luke, perhaps? Marius?

“Oh? Think you can indulge your friend’s curiosity?” Vyn said, prepping the very same knife that he supposed would be used to stab his exposed, vulnerable heart. 

He would need more than a few nights spent at The Abyss to berate himself of this particularly foolhardy, stupid folly. The sooner I am cured of this obsession I have with her and move on, the better.

“You won’t be upset?”

“Not at all. Your secret is safe with me.”

“Well then, Dr. Richter. You see this person everyday,” she said as she once again lifted the teacup to her lips, but she looked at him quite intently as she sipped the liquid. “...in the mirror.”

Silence as dense as concrete hung—no, crashed—into them, particularly onto Vyn.

Ah.

This is getting too dangerous, he decided as he folded his hands onto his lap. Too inappropriate. And I brought this upon ourselves. 

Yet despite his words an unmistakable feeling of elation, of relief, mixed with a little bit of unhinged ecstasy washed over him. 

His mask of a gentle, reassuring smile hid the very, very strong, dark urge to just stand up and gather Rosa into his arms, to carry her to the chaise longue and provide her the very relief that she had been seeking.

But no, this was his Rosa, his prized Rose, and he was not about to renege on his promise to help her just to sate his basest desires. He had waited for so long; he can wait longer if need be.

“I see,” he said, “I will have to admit, I am very honored, and flattered, that you consider me a,” his heart sang as he uttered the next few words. “...possible partner.”

Yet somehow, Rosa’s voice trembled when she said, “I think there’s a but in there somewhere. Dr. Richter.”

“Unfortunately yes, there is a ‘but’,” Vyn nodded. “There is the matter of conflict of interest. It tantamounts to an ethical violation, you see, should I further proceed to intervene.”

“Uhuh.”

“I can recommend you to a colleague who specializes on sex therapy.” Vyn continued. “She—”

Rosa shook her head weakly. “Mm, that’s fine, Dr. Richter,” she murmured. “I know you mean well, and I trust you, but I can’t help but feel I’ll be judged if my issue is going to be handled by another person.”

“That is not true, Rosa,” Vyn reminded her. “We are professionals. I can personally vouch for my colleague—”

“Mm, that’s…that’s fine,” Rosa gave him a crooked, forced smile. “I think I’ve taken up enough of your time now, Dr. Richter, I…I think I should go.” She straightened her skirt and started to gather her things.

Vyn realized that Rosa acted as if he had outrightly rejected her. 

Oh no. No. No, no no. God damn it!

Rosa was already making her way to the door when Vyn blurted out, with more force than he had intended: “One week!”

Rosa stopped in her tracks, and looked at him warily. “One week…?”

“One week,” Vyn repeated. “You seem to be thinking in the heat of the moment. So what I want you to do, Rosa, is to give things a bit of thought for one week, cool your mind off if possible, and if you think you…you still want me after that one week then come back here.”

He did not realize it, but Vyn’s eyes looked a little desperate, and even Rosa herself understood. 

“Mind, though, that should you come back here after that one week, anything that we will do in relation to your predicament will need to be…” He took a deep breath. “...stricken off the record.”

He let the silence explain the implications.

“I…see.” Rosa nodded. “I’ll see you when I see you, Dr. Richter.”

Half an hour after Rosa left his office Vyn was still burying his face in his hands, clearly thrown in for a loop. 

This is not going according to plan at all.

As he left for the day he told his assistant to not encode Rosa’s walk-in consultation into the log. “She was merely a friend visiting me,” Vyn told him, much to his assistant’s confusion. “Just a friendly visit.”

===

One week came, and went.

Vyn had been mindful enough to steer clear of Rosa during that one week when she was supposed to think things through. 

And on the Monday after that one week had elapsed he made it a point to clear his schedule from noon onwards, yet stayed in his office for a couple hours longer than usual…in anticipation of her momentous visit to his office. 

If she would drop by, that is.

Her getting cold feet was not inconceivable. In fact, Vyn expected her to, especially with her tendency to assume that he was somehow unattainable, that he was to be placed on a pedestal. 

He was painfully aware of it, and spent many a time trying to undo that particular dire effect from only wanting to be the most dependable friend she could ever ask for.

Vyn sighed, and stole a glance at the system clock of his workstation monitor. Twenty minutes past seven in the evening. I suppose Rosa sobered up, he thought in deep regret. Yet this is probably for the best. 

A moment’s madness, however sweet, is still madness.

He was already preparing his satchel bag for the drive home when the door to his office suddenly swung open.

Rosa stumbled into his office, still catching her breath.

“Dr. Richter,” she called out to him in between gasps. “I—I’m glad you’re still here.”

“Rosa, I—” Vyn, for once, felt that the rug had been pulled under his feet. 

He stood there, hands still in his bag, frozen in the act of getting ready to leave. “Ah, my apologies. Please, take a seat,” he murmured as his wits finally caught up with him.

His object of obsession sat herself in one of the seats set in front of his desk. “So. Um. Yes.”

“You are sure of your decision, Rosa?” Vyn asked quietly, settling himself back into his executive chair. 

He took off his glasses and wiped the lenses with the cloth he kept in one of his coat’s inner pockets; pushing them back up the bridge of his nose once he was satisfied.

He opened his mouth to say something, yet closed it without uttering a word. 

There was nothing else for him left to say.

She absently straightened the hem of her skirt. “Well, this place is most certainly out of the way home to my place,” she said. “This wasn’t a spur of the moment decision.”

“...I see.”

Vyn decided he had heard enough. 

He stood up from his chair, and walked to where Rosa sat.

And knelt in front of her.

With a tender hand he cupped one of her cheeks, gently turning her face towards his. “Tell me if this is unpleasant for you,” he whispered before leaning in for a chaste peck on her lips.

“No,” Rosa whispered against his mouth. “I like it.” 

To Vyn’s utter surprise Rosa slid her arms around the back of his shoulders, trembling hands grabbing him by the nape and the back of his head; she hung onto him rather desperately as she started kissing him hungrily with tongue. 

The intensity of her kiss was such that it sent him reeling into her lap, and Vyn found himself clinging onto the armrests of her chair as he almost literally drowned in her needful kissing.

He certainly bore the full brunt of her pent-up stress as she devoured him in her embrace, her tongue—inexpertly, yet brimming with passion—exploring his mouth, her lips pressing, moving against his as she made it known just how much she wanted him at the moment.

No words were said. Only their mingled heavy breathing, the unmistakable wet sounds of torrid kissing, and soft whispers could be heard in his office.

“All that one week ever did was make things worse,” Rosa eventually said, a tad wistful, as she surfaced for air. “I…have Mr. Wing ever told you about a mistake I almost did the other day?”

“Mm. No. We never talk outside NXX meetings and other…similar functions…” Vyn murmured absently, a vivid flush coloring his face, hooded gold eyes hazy with something quite primal. “What was it…?”

Rosa was about to recount what happened—it appeared to Vyn that way, at least—yet one look at his face and all she could do was to kiss him again. 

It finally dawned on him, while Rosa had her way with him—as he draped over her lap, letting his Rosa indulge in his mouth, his skin, his scent, as much as she wanted to—that he had well and truly lost all modicum of control when it came to her. 

Eventually he could feel his own desire taking over; his pants now felt uncomfortably tight. Vyn had to pull away from the kiss. “Not here,” he said, his voice almost wavering. All he wanted to do was to lose himself in her but this was not about him; he was there merely to provide her a means for release. “Not here,” he repeated. “We need to do this somewhere you are in control and fully comfortable in. How about your apartment?”

===

The drive to Rosa’s apartment was filled with such sexual tension that Vyn finally realized just how debilitating such type of tension could be, especially when forced in situations where he had to endure such but could not act on it. 

Like driving, for instance.

It was slowly driving him insane; certainly took all he had not to feel up her thigh whenever he reached for the gear stick. 

And when they finally entered her apartment, after Rosa had locked the main door behind her, Vyn was slammed against the nearest wall and his necktie pulled down with such strength by the veritable force of nature that was Rosa’s hunger. 

“I’m sorry, Dr. Richter,” Rosa mumbled, urgently, before she nibbled on his lower lip. “I’ve always liked you, I think, but I never knew just how much I wanted you until you made me look at you last week. When you were trying to calm me down.” 

Moaning, she pressed her body even more against him. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, before pulling his face towards hers; her tongue slipping past his lips to taste him.

Vyn couldn’t help but shiver, swallowed whole by her overwhelming need for him that he never quite expected. Rosa’s soft breasts were pressing against his torso; one of her thighs wedging between his legs and deliberately rubbing against his stiffening erection. Shit. “No need to feel sorry,” he said after her mouth moved on to trace his jawline with the tip of her tongue. “Oh fuck,” he groaned as she gently bit his neck. 

He could feel her bury her nose in the crook of his neck; he could feel her take in deep breaths, inhaling his scent. She sighed, her breath hot and enticing against his skin, “You really smell so good,” she murmured. “Why am I only realizing how much you turn me on, only now?”

Because you were not paying attention, Vyn wanted to tell her, if only to get back at how many times his advances were either unknowingly rebuffed or outrightly dismissed. 

“Rosa, why don’t we—damn—move on to your living room?” Vyn managed to say instead, as Rosa’s hands slipped into his doctor’s coat, coiling her arms around his body as she kissed him deeply yet again. “We can, we can—hahh—finally get you to do what you have been thinking about for so long now.”

When Rosa pulled back, all Vyn could see was her desire for him, quite unhinged: olive eyes half-hidden behind her lashes and further obscured by something dark. Her glossed lips curved into a knowing smile. “I like how you think,” she said, in a maddening half-smile. “I’ve always liked how you think. Now that I’ve had one week to reflect on things I’m now convinced how silly we were, letting us settle into being only friends.”

That was only you, Vyn hazily thought, still reeling in the headiness of her embrace. “I also wanted you, Rosa,” he whispered, relishing the sensation of Rosa’s hands feeling him up his chest. “You have no idea.”

He was led into her living room, and there Rosa forcefully pushed him onto the sofa. Vyn gasped—yet the experience was not unpleasant—and his gasp immediately transitioned to moaning as Rosa clambered onto his lap, claiming him once again in a kiss while tugging at his necktie even harder than she did earlier. Her other hand impatiently grabbed fistfuls of his silver hair as she devoured him with yet another long round of kissing that left both of their lips red and raw.

At this point Vyn was now intoxicated in the heat of the moment and could no longer think far ahead as he was wont to do. “What are you waiting for, pet?” he grinned at her, almost leering, no longer bothering with putting on polite, pleasant masks. “Did you not say you wanted to suck someone’s dick?”

Rosa giggled as she slid against his body, also fully clothed as he was but no less aroused. “Is that an invitation?” Her hand slowly, tantalizingly slid downward; until it was low enough for her to caress his erection through his pants. “God, I really want to…”

“Then do it,” Vyn licked his lips. “Have your way with me,” he whispered, voice low and dripping with molten honey. “Do you want me to help you undo my belt and trousers for you?” His mouth twisted into a devilish grin. “Or do you want to indulge in ravishing your favorite doctor and do it yourself?”

Rosa matched his unhinged grin. “Ravish?” she asked, amused at his choice of words. “Like I said, I really like how you think.” She slid off his lap and knelt in front of him, slotting herself between his spread thighs. “Dr. Richter,” she murmured as her fingers fumbled with the buckle of his belt; “Have you always fantasized about a girl blowing you under your desk?”

Vyn let out a dark chuckle. “Not really, no, but my fantasies always involved an attorney named Rosa, and how wonderful she must be, writhing upon my bed. Underneath me. Crying out my name as I fuck her until she begs me to stop.” His grin widened further, “That is, if I would stop. I will enjoy her as much as I can, until my knees give out.”

Rosa had already pulled down his zipper by the time he finished detailing his vulgar promise of pleasures to come. “That’s a high bar you’re setting,” she said as her fingers massaged his erection through his underwear. “I’m not sure if I can even meet Dr. Richter’s lofty expectations.”

“I am sure you will,” he said quietly, intently watching Rosa as she fondled him with experimental touches. “But this moment is not about me; rather for you and letting you deal with your stress. Go ahead. Play with it if you wish.”

Spurred on by his words Rosa slipped her unsteady fingers underneath the waistband of his boxer shorts, finally freeing his cock from its confines. She gasped as she beheld it in all of its stiff glory, her eyes glued to his proud cock in rapt attention. 

“Do you like it?” He asked. “Does it meet your expectations? He bit his lip, eyes still closely watching her. “Hahh—yes. Yes,” He let out a ragged sigh as Rosa tentatively licked at the tip of his cock, tasting his precum.

“Hmm.” Rosa watched his cock twitch. She licked it again, on the underside of his tip this time; his cock once again twitched in response, making her smile in a strange child-like glee. “How cute,” she whispered, before planting a soft kiss on its tip. “I like it.” She allowed herself a long, slow, deliberate lick from the base all the way up to tip. “It’s way better than I expected, now that I’m seeing one up close.”

Her words caught his attention. “Is this your first time having sex with a partner?”

“Uhuh,” Rosa hummed in affirmation, then trailed small, exploratory kisses along his shaft, alternating it with shy flicks of her tongue. She let out a small giggle as he twitched once more, against her cheek. “Hey!”

“Heh. Take your time playing, little pet,” Vyn drawled as he sank deeper into her sofa’s cushions. He continued to passively watch Rosa as she satisfied her curiosity, clearly not aware how much her little licks, kisses and even soft nibbling on the skin of his cock gradually pushed him towards the edge. 

The precum that Rosa licked off earlier was quickly replaced; a bead of clear fluid started to dribble along the tip. 

"There it goes again," Rosa murmured. She swirled her tongue over the tip of his cock, cleaning it of precum. 

A sharp intake of breath. "Stop teasing me Rosa," Vyn hissed. "Make me come. Please."

Rosa tipped her head to the side, looking innocent. "But you told me to take my time playing with you." 

From Vyn's vantage point she looked like the very image of a succubus, playing up the visual qualities of a pure, innocent, virginal maiden while obviously engaging in lascivious acts. "Changed your mind?" She then dropped her girlish act, and her expression transitioned once again to reflect her desire to consume him. 

"I thought you wanted to perform fellatio," Vyn whispered, voice dropping a couple octaves lower. "Do you not want to suck me off? Does mine not measure up to your specifications?" 

Rosa laughed a little. "Please, Dr. Richter. Any larger and I'll probably choke." Her lips now hovered above his tip. "I was just messing with you." The tip of her small tongue flicked at his cock's slit, prompting yet another small gasp from the doctor. 

"You will not choke on it," Vyn eyed Rosa hungrily, and with soft whispers he continued, "In fact, you might find it just the right size for your pretty little mouth to wrap your lips around.” His cock twitched at the sight of her mouth taking him in; her head slowly bouncing over his lap, dick sliding into her mouth inch by delicious inch. "Just like that. Slowly. No need to rush. Try to slide your tongue—nngh—against it. Just a bit." 

"Mmph…" Rosa moaned, turned on, with Vyn still inside her mouth. 

The resulting vibrations emanating from the back of her throat felt so good that Vyn couldn't help but throw his head back into the cushions. “Damn it,” he groaned, catching himself before he could cry out in sheer pleasure. 

His hands slid along the soft velour surface of Rosa’s sofa, fingers splayed to find purchase for him to hold on to. There were none; leaving him with balled fists and all-too obvious tracks created by his nails: irrefutable evidence of just how much control he had already lost.

It was certainly something for Vyn to ruminate over the dictaphone in the next few lonely nights, but not right now. Not right now, when Rosa—the girl of his dreams, the one who owned him, even if she was too dense to even understand it—was kneeling right in front of him, as if in prayer.

And such fervent prayer involved his cock sliding into her mouth.

Encouraged by the extremely positive feedback, Rosa started to punctuate the up-down movement of her lips with occasional humming. 

"Hahaha. Oh, shit," Vyn moaned helplessly. And she's not even sucking. He gritted his teeth, hellbent on not reaching orgasm too soon. Yet. "Y-you can try sucking—" his words abruptly cut off as Rosa immediately did as he suggested, and he almost regretted it: it felt much too good, and he knew he would come any moment now… 

It was clear that she wasn't used to the act, but the image of Rosa performing fellatio on him, his Rosa, and doing it quite earnestly… it was more than enough stimulation for him. 

And he had never felt this much stimulation before. 

Vyn slowly, gradually lost grasp on what little control he had left.

He had been careful not to put his hands on her as she indulged herself with him, careful not to unintentionally drive the pace of the act, to let Rosa be fully in control. He had decided, long before they even started, that her pleasure would come first and foremost, and that his would be merely a happy secondary result.

Yet right now one of his hands found the back of her head, fingers twisting loose locks of her auburn hair around his digits. He then pushed her head down, making her take in more of his cock, enough for him to hit the back of her throat. 

"Yes. You have been good so far, Rosa. Just a little more," he whispered in between urgent, shallow breaths. "Just—ahh, yes. Almost…" 

His other hand grabbed her right hand by the wrist; Vyn guided her inexpert fingers into jerking off the last few inches of him that could no longer fit in her mouth. "Suck on me just a bit more, my succubus. Would you let me come in your naughty little mouth of yours, I wonder? So you can have a—mmm, yess—full taste of me." It was clear that his own degeneracy was in full display, but Vyn let it; much better for Rosa to know he had this very nature lurking in his depths before she decides to stay with him.

Oh, Rosa, his heart yearned for her to accept him and his myriad little perversions; the ugly cracks to his overall self that resulted from just how much he had to endure in the gilded hellhole he escaped from. Look at me. Look at me, and please do not turn away.

Yet at this moment Rosa abruptly pulled away and gasped for air.

Vyn felt the most dire mixture of slight rejection, and immediate frustration upon being denied immediate release. I was so close…!

He was about to voice out his frustration, yet his words died in his throat the moment his eyes focused onto Rosa’s face, now that she sat on her haunches in between his legs, the entirety of her face in full view: Her chin was completely drenched with her saliva; the same saliva that also pooled around the base of his cock. Traces of involuntary tears also ran down both her cheeks, most probably from when he pushed her head down deep enough for his cock to hit the back of her throat. 

The absolutely debauched sight of his Rosa in such a state almost made the doctor achieve orgasm. 

"Why did you stop?" He meant his words to come out imperious, but instead what came out sounded strangled and utterly needy. 

"I'm sorry," Rosa groaned. "I'm just so horny…" She quickly stood, on unsteady legs, to hike up her skirt and step out of her panties.

But before she could kneel between Vyn's legs once more he grabbed her by the arms, pulling her down towards him, forcing her to straddle one of his thighs. "Who told you to stop?" he growled, voice dangerously low this time. One of his hands snaked up her inner thigh. "I was near. You utter, utter—" 

Fingertips briefly strummed her moist clit, only for a couple of seconds, after which his fingers withdrew; fingertips settling just an inch away from the entrance to her cunt. "...tease."

"Nngh…I didn't do it on purpose!" Rosa whimpered as she moved her hips in an effort to have her clit rub against his fingers. "Please, Dr. Richter!"

Yet Vyn merely slid his fingers down her thigh even further, his touch never leaving her skin. "A favor for a favor, Rosa," Vyn murmured, voice as smooth as silk. He started to caress her lower thigh. "Someone of your profession should know better, no?" He lightly pinched the tender skin of her inner thigh, making her yelp in surprise. "But no, you stopped, just when I badly needed my relief."

All it did, however, was turn her on even more. She rubbed her thighs together, sandwiching Vyn’s teasing hand between them. "I just… I just want to know how it feels to have someone else touch me—aaah!"

So that is how things are, at the moment…

Vyn did not let her finish; he now had a better grasp on her current predicament. 

Rosa, he quickly learned based on what she just said, was starving for touch. The need to perform fellatio was merely a part of her need to be physically intimate. 

And so with this realization he decided to let his Rose taste a little bit of pleasure. A hand slid up her thigh; his thumb started making slow circular motions directly onto her clit. Another finger idly stroked the entrance to her cunt. "Do you still want to fellate me, pet?" he asked. "Or do you…" the finger slowly slipped inside her hole. "...want to move on to the main course?" 

The finger slid in and out of her with tantalizingly slow yet deliberate movements, punctuated with the occasional flicks onto her clit with the pad of his thumb. “This is merely a taste,” he murmured as his lips hovered close to her ear. “Do you not desire to be filled?”

His tongue slithered along her earlobe. “Do you not wish to fuck me?” Then grinned at her, as if he were the Devil trying to push her into committing a mortal sin, for his own pleasure. 

He slipped another finger into her cunt; both fingers now buried in her knuckle-deep, massaging her hot inner walls.

Shuddering, Rosa leaned forward, now clinging desperately onto his neck, as she let his fingers wind up the tension between her legs tighter and tighter, until she could do nothing but rut against his hand. "I can always suck you off again, Dr. Richter, if you want. Anywhere you want,” she was now running her mouth off, too horny to care about the consequences of her words. “I really, really need to cum. Like. Right now.”

“Fuck me then?” Vyn whispered as he increased the tempo of his finger fucking. Wet, lewd sounds could be heard from between her thighs. 

“Mm. Yeah.” Rosa arched her back, now fully losing herself into  his fingers deep in her cunt. “Oh, but if you don’t stop right now, I’ll—”

Vyn laughed quietly against her ear, his laughter breathy and unmistakably erotic. “Do you want to be in control?” His free hand now crept up underneath her blouse, slipping inside one of the cups of her brassiere to tease her nipple. “You on top?” 

“Oh—oh fuck!”

“Tell me what you want, or I will not stop…” A chaste kiss on her ear. “Either way, I like seeing you come undone. Be it on my fingers, or on my dick.”

Another low laughter, now almost menacing.

“Shit, I can’t stop now, I can’t stop, I’m sorry—” Rosa hissed as she fucked Vyn’s hand harder. “I’m—aaaah!”

Vyn started thrusting his fingers harder, faster as Rosa lost herself to orgasm. “Yess. Nothing wrong with coming. Let yourself go,” he hissed as he helped her ride out her orgasm. “Feels quite good, yes?”

Rosa then slumped over him, her flesh twitching around the fingers still buried in her cunt. “Oh god. That was probably the best…the…ah—” She could not articulate her thoughts at the moment.

Chuckling, Vyn pulled his fingers out and, in Rosa’s full view, started to lick his fingers clean. “I like how you taste,” he murmured. “Did you ever try tasting yourself after you masturbate?”

Rosa wordlessly shook her head, too tired to even talk. 

“You taste rather good,” Vyn whispered as he slipped his pussy juice-coated finger between Rosa’s lips, making her taste her own flavor. “Do you not think so?”

“Mmph—” Rosa sucked on his finger, and Vyn was so overcome by how hard it made him that he grabbed her, pulling her roughly towards him and kissing her full on the mouth, with his finger still between her lips. Their tongues entwined and slid against each other’s, alternating with each of them taking turns sucking on his finger trapped between their mouths. 

“Nngh, Dr. Richter, I didn’t know you were this wild,” Rosa murmured as their sultry, desperate kissing finally broke. “So hot.”

“That is because you were not paying attention,” Vyn finally said what he wanted to when they arrived in her apartment. “I am so attracted to you, did you not notice?”

His words stunned her into further silence, and she stared at him quietly for almost half a minute. “I thought I was just being a little too hopeful,” she said timidly as soon as she found her voice. “I thought you were just indulging me, flirting with me because you knew I liked it. Liked you.”

“I know, and I do not blame you for thinking so,” Vyn said as he started to take off his clothes for the final voluptuous act. He was about to shrug off his white doctor’s coat when Rosa stayed his hand. “No, keep it on,” she said, voice meek. “I…uh, seeing you in your work clothes turns me on.”

Vyn grinned at this particular admission, thoroughly amused at the idea of Rosa going wet whenever they bump into each other during work hours, when he would most likely be wearing his research center uniform. “Really now?” he murmured as he straightened his coat back on, pulling it by the lapels. “Thank you for sharing with me your preferences.”

“Kiki knows that I have a uniform kink,” Rosa admitted. “She’s never let me live it down. Even points at policemen for me,” she groaned at the recollection. “Even Darius…ugh…”

Vyn had to raise an eyebrow. “Darius? Ah. There are pornographic videos on fantasies involving policemen; I would be surprised if Captain Morgan was not aware of that kind of…predilection.” Smiling, he tapped her lips with a fingertip. “You should not be so worried about it. Come now, turn that frown into the smile that I so love…”

Yet the smile that spread on Rosa’s lips was somewhat twisted. 

The next few minutes were once again filled with silence punctuated with wet sounds that came from their kissing. This time, both of Vyn’s hands are underneath her blouse; slender fingers pushed her bra up to let him play with her nipples. 

“Oh shit,” Rosa moaned as he started rolling her now sensitive peaks between thumb and forefinger. “I…” She started rubbing her pussy against his clothed thigh, trailing a thick line of her juices onto the fabric of his trousers. 

A dark smile spread on Vyn’s lips. “Shall we start the main course, then?” He adjusted his position on the sofa, lying down along its length.

His cock, having been neglected all this time, was no less stiff than it was when they started going all over each other. Vyn took one of her hands, guiding it into grasping his shaft. “And this time, let me reach my own release.”

He twitched in her hand.

“Mm. I’m still sorry for that,” Rosa murmured as she shimmied up to his hips, straddling him with her cunt directly on top of his cock. “I…I’m not sure if I’m doing it right, but…”

“You are doing good,” Vyn purred, his hands sliding to either side of her waist, to provide her support once she needed it. “Steady now. Lower your hips a bit, slide your knees along…yes…”

Rosa gasped and halted her movement once she could feel his tip poking into her entrance. “I—” she gulped nervously. “Is it so silly that I’m actually…afraid? It looks like it won’t fit. Um. Hahaha.”

“Heh. I knew Stellis University’s sex education was a bit lacking,” he drawled. “But not to this extent.” One of his hands reached between their bodies to grasp his cock, letting his tip rub against her sex to gather enough wetness. “If this is your first time, yes, it may sting a little bit. But I promise I will be gentle, my little pet,” he whispered. “I will not hurt you.

“So come. Ride me.”

Rosa sighed, defeated. “I guess I’m too horny to scare me off from a good dicking at this point,” she muttered.

Vyn was inwardly amused at her crude choice of words. “I will make sure you will get an exemplary dicking, Rosa,” he said, grinning.

Rosa laughed, then bit her lip as she continued her descent onto Vyn’s hard cock. “Ahh—” she winced as she felt it stretch her inner flesh; and she was not even halfway into taking in his entire length. Which was considerable, to say the least. 

“Slowly now, just relax,” Vyn said quietly as he started to slowly move his hips, gently thrusting inside her bit by bit to help her along. “Tell me if I am hurting you too much.”

“It does sting but…hnnngh….” Rosa bit her lip, slowly lowering herself around his cock even further. 

However one of her knees slipped, causing her to impale herself with his dick quite roughly before Vyn could steady her with his hands. Rosa yelped loudly, then keened in pain. “Oh shit,” she winced. “It does…hurt…?” She wiggled her hips slightly to feel the extent of the pain. “But…”

Vyn, despite the utter need to fuck and how that small mishap almost made him want to rail her—fuck her—hard and fast, could only look at her with concern stifled by barely reined-in lust. “Rosa, are you alright?” he asked. “Do you want to take a break for now…?” 

She shook her head adamantly. “No!” she said loudly as she planted her palms onto his abdomen, readying herself to finally fuck her favorite doctor. “I did feel a bit of tearing, but…” she looked at him with an unreadable expression on her face. “Does it make sense that I’m both hurt and very, very aroused?”

“Yes, yes it does,” Vyn whispered, yet still a little concerned as soon as she told him about something tearing. With a tentative touch of one of his fingers he felt around where their bodies joined; and when he pulled back his hunch was confirmed: Blood streaked the length of his finger. 

Lacerated hymen.

Rosa, now sitting on his hips, took a little bit more time to acclimatize herself. “So this is how it feels, to be filled with a man’s dick inside me,” she murmured. “It’s…it’s different from how I imagined it based on the smutty novels Kiki and I read.”

Vyn decided to hold a bit of conversation to distract Rosa from the pain, even if only for a few moments, despite the fact that being fully hilted inside her—yet not thrusting inside to chase his release—slowly and gradually pushed him into madness. “These novels…do you like the acts depicted in them?” he asked.

Rosa gave him a smile, still marred by the sting of virginity quite abruptly snatched away. “Of—of course. Which is why I like to read them to blow off steam…”

“Have you ever thought of re-enacting some scenes from the novels?” Vyn asked, his hands gently caressing her thighs. “I can indulge you, if you so wish.”

“Huh…?” she gaped at him; and a fierce, hot blush crept from her neck and eventually covered her entire face. “Um…they’re really…er. Situational?” Rosa struggled to find an appropriate euphemism for smut novels that typically involved fantasy and supernatural elements, for fear of Vyn judging her degenerate tastes in sexual media.

“Heh. Why not describe to me one of those scenes you like?” Vyn grinned at her. “Try me.”

Rosa looked a bit conflicted at his invitation, then said, “Well, one of my favorites is about a priest, who’s a demon in disguise, really, and he messes around with the lead female…” She cleared her throat. “It’s a nice temptation story, but who am I kidding?” she finally sighed. “I mostly read it for the sex scenes. And the priest character is um. Hot?”

“Aha,” Vyn murmured as he looked at her, a lopsided grin on his face. “A very strong preference for uniforms. Your penchant to read about men of certain types of professions, mostly placed in prominent positions of their chosen careers: Priests, police captains.” A pause. “Doctors.” His grin further widened. “You, my dear Rosa, have a kink for authority.”

Rosa’s lower lip trembled. “Can you please not analyze me when your dick is deep inside me, after making me bleed??” Another bout of a deep, vivid blush overtook her. She covered her face in her hands. “Ugh. If I wasn’t so horny I—”

Chuckling, Vyn tenderly prised her hands away from her face. “I was not analyzing you, Rosa,” he pointed out. “It was merely an observation.”

“Can we not talk about semantics please?” Rosa groaned. She was about to go off on another tirade, only to moan loudly instead when Vyn’s hand once again slipped between them and rubbed at her clit.

“Why are you embarrassed?” Vyn murmured as his fingertips strummed directly onto her clit. “Lend me a copy of that novel. I want to read, so I will know how to act accordingly the next time we…” he bit his lip invitingly. “Make love.”

“Oh shit, if you put it that way Vyn…ah…” Rosa moaned as her hips moved, seemingly involuntarily. “A..ahhh….”

“Does it still hurt, Rosa?” Vyn whispered quietly, hoping against hope that he can now finally fuck the woman he fell for, and lusted after for so long. “Do you think you can move…?” His fingers still kept at strumming her clit. 

“I—I think so, yeah,” Rosa murmured as she leaned forward slightly, her palms placed on his stomach to support her weight. She started to roll her hips, slowly at first to let her get used to the sexual act. “Mmm…oh damn.”

“You sound as if you are enjoying yourself.” Vyn kept on teasing her now all-too sensitive bud. “How does it feel, finally getting to experience fucking someone?”

Rosa closed her eyes as her hips rocked against his; as if relishing the feel of his cock moving in and out inside her. “It’s…it’s no exaggeration,” Rosa said, her voice shuddering. Her breathing grew erratic and shallow; an irrefutable sign of heightened sexual arousal.

“What is?” No longer being able to take being passive underneath her exploratory movements, Vyn slowly and gradually started fucking her from underneath, closely watching her face and body for any indications of pain. He also did not stop with his ministrations on her clitoris, to help distract her from any discomfort.

“...that sex really, really feels good,” Rosa’s hips now bounced over his cock. “I…shit…I think I’m now ruined…?” She moaned. “I don’t think masturbation would make me feel this good, fuck,”

“Shit,” Vyn hissed through his teeth. Rosa was pretty tight, and her fucking him with such enthusiasm, coupled with the fact that his hard on was being ignored for some time now, was a sure fire way of making him come inside her. “Rosa, if you keep on doing that, I may…ah, fuck!” he groaned as he threw his head deeper into the pillows placed by the end of the sofa. “...may come inside you, any moment now…”

“Th–that’s okay!” Rosa gasped out loud. “I’m nearing…”

“Do you not want to stretch this out further…?” Vyn managed to ask, even if he silently begged to just let him come. “I can slow down…”

Rosa shook her head. “No…Almost there,” she husked. “Don’t stop, Vyn,” 

Vyn. She finally calls me Vyn, long after that time way back in Nosta…

“Together, then?” Vyn licked his lips then with one arm pulled her down onto him, so her body laid flush against his. “Wrap your legs around my waist…yes…and hold on to me.”

And he started railing her from underneath, with such strength that Rosa could do nothing but cling to his shoulders. Vyn made sure to run his entire length for every thrust in and out of her cunt, savoring how her hot inner walls clamped ever so deliciously around his stiff cock. Savoring the sweet sounds she made every time he plunged deep inside her. Certainly savoring how much she enjoyed getting fucked by him, seeing her blissfully fucked out face as she feverishly kissed him all over…

“Vyn…I…VYN…!” Rosa threw her head back, shouting his name out loud as she spasmed around his cock still chasing release. “Vyn, oh god,” she moaned, then kissed him deeply. “So good…” And, unprompted, she whispered directly into his ear: “Please fill me with your cum.”

The final nail in the coffin.

“Hnngh—shit,” Vyn hissed as his vision blanked out, his sperm filling her in copious bursts. “Rosa, I lo—” he was going to say something in the throes of his intense pleasure, but caught himself and kissed her full on the lips instead. It felt inappropriate, he decided. Better to say it when both of them possess a certain degree of lucidity…

And, with their limbs entangled, lying down on the sofa to catch their breaths, they both delved deep into their own thoughts. 

At least, Vyn fancied, Rosa may be mulling her own options on how to proceed with the newfound physicality of their relationship. In his own case, however, he wondered if this time, this time, Rosa finally understood that—beyond the physical, the sex—she meant so much to him. So much that only she can cause him to lose control, and make him enjoy it.

Vyn’s arm coiled around her shoulders, pulling her even close to him. “Penny for your thoughts?” he asked.

“Um…” Rosa began, hesitantly. “If…if I needed to do this again, can we…?”

Vyn’s stomach plummeted, and he sighed in barely-hidden regret. Of course she still does not pay any attention to these things. At all.

“Oh–oh, I’m sorry, I…” Rosa fidgeted in his hold, obviously mistaking his sighing for something else entirely. 

“What I mean, my dearest Rosa,” he began, making it a point to call her with intimate nicknames starting now, “Is that should you feel the need to, I am but a call away. I shall make arrangements for us to…” He ran the pad of his thumb gently across her lower lip. “...make love, posthaste.”

“Mm. Thank you…” Rosa buried her face in his neck. Then, quite unexpectedly, she nibbled onto the underside of his jaw, sucking at it quite vigorously until a deep red-purple bruise marred his fair skin. “Teehee. Gave you a hickey.”

Vyn gave her a crooked smile. “Is this the first time you have given someone a hickey?”

“Mm. Yeap!” Rosa gave him a toothy smile. “I did a great job, I think?”

“You do know that sometimes, hickeys can last up to two weeks before they completely fade?”

“...Eh?” Rosa’s smile froze on her face as the implication suddenly hit her. “Oh shit. Dr. Richter, I’m so sorry!”

There she is, going Dr. Richter once again. 

Things…never change.

“And since I am still wearing my uniform, you essentially made sure that this hickey will be in full view every time I report for duty,” Vyn continued. “Pray tell, what can you do for me, Rosa?”

Her lower lip trembled once more. “Oh…oh shit,” she muttered. I didn’t really think clearly and I thought it was a nice way to tease you, since we just did it and all but um—”

“Hush.” With a grin Vyn tilted his head a little bit to the side, pressing his lips onto the side of her neck to give Rosa her very own hickey. His smile was satisfyingly cat-like  by the time he pulled back. “There. We are even.”

Rosa blinked at him. “Oh wow,” she murmured. Just so you know, I don’t have that many turtlenecks in my wardrobe.”

“You can always wear a loose scarf around your neck,” Vyn said blithely.

“Um…how about you?” Rosa asked, shyly.

“I shall wear my mark in full display,” was all he said. “With pride.”

===

Three days later.

Kiki was working with Rosa together in her cubicle filing away printed and signed paperwork, when an elegant, low voice spoke over the cubicle partition: “Bonjour, Mesdemoiselles.”

Kiki looked up from the file cabinet both she and Rosa were hunched over, and unabashedly gaped at him. “Um. Dr. Richter?” she almost stuttered. “How can we help you?”

“Nothing, really,” he smiled, and his golden-eyed smile was as beatific as the Sistine Chapel angels. “I only wanted to drop by and pay my closest friend a visit,” he said, motioning to Rosa who was still facing the file cabinet, frozen in place.

Dr. Richter merely stood there, waiting for Rosa to react, still with that serene smile plastered on his face.

After a few moment—that stretched quite long enough to fill an eternity—Rosa finally turned, and slowly stood up straight to face him. “Um. Hi, Dr. Richter,” she murmured, eye downcast.

Well, isn’t this really aaaawkwaaaard, Kiki cringed in second-hand embarrassment, surreptitiously looking at both Rosa and Dr. Vyn Richter.

Then she saw it.

That unmistakable mark underneath Dr. Richter’s jaw. 

A hickey?! Kiki’s synapses almost fried with the revelation, and the implications that came with it. So. So, Rosa really did visit Dr. Richter for her need to suck dick and THIS is the treatment he gave her? 

The fact that Rosa had been wearing a scarf since Tuesday was a clear indicator that yes, something good finally happened to her anguished friend.

He…Kiki’s polite smile became a little bit too taut. He gave Rosa a dicking.

Oh god Rosa you owe me a lot of stories BIG TIME and you owe me BIG TIME since I suggested you visit him in the first place!

Rosa, you lucky, LUCKY, girl!

The intern’s brain then was filled with myriad thoughts of similar nature, some of them in capslock, but then she finally managed to wrest back control over her own self and cleared her throat.

“Ehem,” Kiki said, unable to suppress her knowing grin. 

And, surprisingly enough, Dr. Richter returned it with a knowing smile of his own. 

Figures. If he’s displaying it for all to see he must be doing it deliberately and wants people to know…

In the meantime, Rosa looked like all she wanted to do was to dig a hole in the ground and bury herself alive.

Mercifully Dr. Richter dropped the amusing smile-fest and fished something from out of his pocket. “I also dropped by to return this,” he said as he walked into their shared cubicle to hand Rosa a very very familiar book.

What the fudge is that…Is that the hardcopy of that priest smut novel I lent her???

“It was a very interesting read,” Dr. Richter said, genially. Then, with a low voice he continued, “And a very useful reference, as well,” then winked conspiratorially to Kiki.

Kiki’s brain blanked out.

Rosa was still unresponsive.

“Well, I think the occupant in that office over there is making it known to me that I have overstayed my welcome,” the silver-haired psychiatrist remarked. “I shall take my leave now.” Then, to Rosa, “I will wait for your text.”

Kiki was still staring at the main entrance to their department well after Dr. Richter disappeared through the glass doors. “Damn, girl, you got yourself a huge catch,” she mumbled. “Doctor effing Richter.”

Rosa, finally able to speak, said in a strangled voice, “We’re just close, um. Friends.”

“Shut up, girl,” Kiki said. “Any more of that ‘close friends’ schtick and I’ll slap you silly.”

[nimbus2224]

I think if any of the senior Jedi Masters, like Yoda or Obi-Wan, had truly listened to Anakin when he was hurting or scared -- had validated his emotions, sympathized, and said something like “How can I help you?” -- like Cody had listened, sympathized, and validated Rex’s fears and emotions, Anakin probably would not have turned to the darkside. 

Palpatine would have been like “I can save Padme from dying.” and Anakin would just be like, “Oh? My boi Obi-Wan, Mace Windu, Yoda, Rex, and Cody are all on it. We’re even going to have a party when the twins are born, with uj cake and everything.” 

What even is the power of the darkside, or even the Force, when you don’t have to hide your fears or wants or basic human needs like friends and comfort and people you can trust not to laugh at you or treat you like you’re sick. Like seriously. All Yoda had to do was be like, “It’s hard to be the one that survives in a war, Anakin. It’s painful. I know you’re so scared to lose your wife and friends like you lost your mom, fellow Jedi, clone comrades. I’ve been there. Just talk to me. You’re not crazy.” 

And just look at Cody’s facial expression. It’s the face of someone who wants to help, to hear what his brother is saying no matter what it might be. He sees Rex in a bad place and doesn’t judge him or give him some unwanted advice. Instead he opens up, becomes vulnerable as he dredges up all those memories of other battles (ones we unfortunately did not get to see and will never see) where he felt the same way. He encourages Rex to talk instead of telling him to stop crying around or feeling sorry about the past. He welcomes emotion, allows others to display it. He also takes the time to remind Rex of his value as both a soldier, leader, and friend (”Rex is one of our best, sir....”). 

Clone Wars might not be perfect, especially in how little spotlight they give any clones outside the 501st (just one example), but at least they continued this tradition of Cody just being there for people (see many of the EU books and RoTS). A true servant leader, friend, and genuine human being. I love watching him quietly move through this show and the movie, through little scenes where he builds up people (promoting Echo and Fives to ARC troopers, calling 99 a true soldier and friend, checking on/comforting the clone personnel in prison during “The Citadel”, speaking highly of Rex in front of superior officers...), treats them like people instead of minions or robots.

Side notes: 

I really need to make a painting or something of this. 

I kinda hope that we never see Cody again because I don’t like the thought of the showrunners just turning him into some mad, irredeemable villain. Just let me have this Cody, the one that takes the time to care and talk to his friends. 

I need to get my thoughts/essay down about the comparison between the Jedi and the clones during the clone wars, how Anakin and Obi-Wan kinda mirror Rex and Cody, plus Order 66. I also need to write an essay about how annoying the “by the book” description is of Cody because it’s overused and kinda stereotyping of any clone that isn’t “sassy” or overtly rebellious. :P

Image description: The top image is of Cody speaking with Rex in the dimly lit Republic mobile barracks. The camera is behind Rex’s face so we only see Rex’s right ear and the side of his head, as well as his armored shoulder. 

Cody is looking at Rex, having just asked his brother basically “What’s wrong?”. Cody’s expression is soft and caring, open to what Rex might have to say. He is prepared to listen and comfort his friend. Cody is also wearing his armor and you can just see the top of his helmet as he holds it under his left arm.

The second image is the scene where Anakin talks to Yoda in the Jedi Temple meditation chambers in Revenge of the Sith. It is dark in this room, with slats of sunlight illuminating the left side of Yoda’s face and the back of Anakin’s head. The camera is behind Anakin so we only see the back of his head and shoulders as he listens to Yoda. Yoda’s face is relatively neutral, the heavy lidded eyes downturned. Yoda holds up a finger to point at Anakin in an almost accusing or condescending manner, his face appearing to be in the process of becoming a stern frown. He seems displeased with Skywalker.

[swbumblebee]

What if Qui-Gon Jinn was not particularly special in his post-mortem abilities?

AKA “Old Ben” and his many Force parents.

They had all watched, their collective Force aura swamped in sadness, grief and longing, as Qui-Gon finally introduced himself to Obi-Wan.

They’d never call him ‘Old Ben’. The fact that he was only 40 years old notwithstanding, this was the boy they’d raised, grown up with, idolised. They remembered him toddling about the gardens, fascinated by the brightly coloured flowers; Getting shy around pretty people and developing awkward crushes. They remembered him standing alone at the head of an army, quietly confident and immeasurably capable. They had vivid memories of him carrying them back to the creche, so steady and strong; of his measured wisdom, and the confidence that Obi-Wan Kenobi would always triumph.

They remembered the mullet.

Nobody named “Old Ben” ever had a mullet.

The man they now, as they always had really, looked to for a light when everything else went dark.

They didn’t catch the murmured words. They were Jedi after all, (even if they were now technically one big Jedi rather than a temple full of Jedi) and eavesdropping was rude. Nobody listened to the sulky mutterings of the presence that was Quinlan Vos.

Their boy was nodding, sitting quietly on the floor whilst he finally, finally after weeks of careful and gentle persuasion, of them all keeping a tight rein on the order’s maverick (“Do not, we repeat do not, come out of the water tank. You’ll give him a cardiac arrest or something”) believed in the presence he saw before him.

They watched once more, pleased, as their missing piece allowed himself to be bullied to his feet, and guided over to the pile of blankets he called a bed.

They could feel Qui-Gon’s bitter relief as he perched next to his former student, his longing to pull the blankets up around his boy and smooth back his hair.

But words were all they had.

Still, as Obi-Wan Kenobi had shown the Galaxy; you could do a lot with words.

---

They’d argued (as much as an incorporeal fusion of spirits could argue) at length over who got to go next.

“I knew him longest, he’ll trust me!”

“He needs someone calm, measured. I will go”

“No offence Master Plo but you’ll make him cry. He needs cheering up, I’ll go!”

“Vos so help me Force-“

“I was the Master of the Order, I should do it”

“Master, we’re dead. I’m not sure seniority applies.”

In the end it was narrowed down to two options; Bant Erin, Obi-Wan’s oldest friend. Sweet natured and kind, she would be the perfect choice.

And Mace Windu.

It turns out seniority does still apply beyond the grave.

---

A small part of Obi-Wan’s subconscious was telling him that it was starting to get a bit awkward.

The transparent blue form of Mace Windu was looking down at him, the welcoming smile quickly turning into a grimace.

“…Obi-Wan?”

No. no no no this was not happening. He didn’t have time to go round the bend he had a child to protect!

He wasn’t sure if it was reasonable to measure sanity on the volume of dead loved ones he was hallucinating, but somehow one seemed saner than two.

Though it turns out he’s insane, and so not a good barometer of these things.

He knew his stare was starting to get very unnerving as his hysterical inner-ramblings reached a fever pitch.

“…Obi-Wan, are you alright?” Imaginary Mace Windu asked, concern and a tiny bit of nervousness showing on his face.

“I’m fine, how are you?” Obi-Wan asked, remembering a solid piece of advice from his formative years; Always fall back upon good manners when in unfamiliar territory Padawan mine.

Well, this was about as unfamiliar as it got.

Imaginary Mace looked at him, utterly baffled for a moment.

“Well…I’m dead, I suppose, is how I am” he answered awkwardly.

“Right. Obviously.” Obi-Wan nodded politely. “My condolences”

There was another awkward silence.

Imaginary Mace tilted his head for a moment, listening for something.

“Well…here I am” he said, spreading his arms a little.

“…yes.”

The other Jedi frowned at Obi-Wan’s strained reply and his act of scrubbing his hands down his face as if to wipe away the image in front of him.

“Qui-Gon didn’t…didn’t mention we were coming?” he asked tentatively.

Obi-Wan shook his head, wordlessly.

The frown on Imaginary Mace turned into a complete scowl as the pieces seemed to fall into place.

“JINN” he bellowed, and Obi-Wan felt it echo in the Force like nothing before.

“He can’t hear you, he’s with Yoda”

Another figure popped into existence next to Mace, and Obi-Wan rubbed his eyes once again as Depa Billaba bowed to him.

“Obi-Wan” she greeted with a grin.

“…hi” He took a deep breath, mentally cursing his absent-minded Master.

“Are you alright?” Depa didn’t stop for a reply as she looked down with him and gestured at him, gently instructing him to get up from the floor. “Oh look you’ve scraped your knee there! Master I knew you’d startle him!” she scolded her former Master.

It felt like he was having an out of body experience as Depa ushered him into a chair (the only chair in the hut), Mace looking on anxiously.

“There we go” Depa soothed as she got him settled “I wish we could make you some tea my friend.” She said disappointedly.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat.

“You ah…you can’t?” he asked, something permeating the haze. Of this whole situation, that seemed by far the most unfair thing.

Mace smiled encouragingly, seemingly happier to be on more binary ground.

“I’m afraid not, we are beings of the Force, like your Master.” He explained, before scowling again. “Who, I would kill if he weren’t already dead,” he growled.

“I’m so sorry Obi-Wan” Depa said, dismayed “We all wanted to come and be with you, but we though Qui-Gon might be best to start with, so as not to overwhelm you”

“Sorry about that” Mace said apologetically.

They sat in silence a moment, Depa and Mace watching him process.

For the first time ever, Obi-Wan had exactly zero thoughts in his head.

He was starting to feel the pressure.

“All?” he tried.

Depa and Mace looked at each other.

“You ah…you said ‘all wanted to come’” he clarified.

Depa nodded happily.

“Yes yes, we’re all there Obi-Wan” she smiled at him

“Any Jedi slain by a Sith, or the machinations of the Sith, is there” Mace explained.

Obi-Wan was having the slightest bit of trouble taking deep breaths. Neither of his companions seemed to have noticed.

“Where?” he asked, only mildly aware that his voice was getting just a little pitchy.

“In the Force, we’re all one in the Force” Depa started again, and then paused a little lost for words.

“We’re all together and we kind of…share our presences” Mace picked up, with difficulty “Everyone who was killed by Palpatine’s evil, everyone from us right down to the littlest initiate, we share one consciousness in the Force.”

Obi-Wan was none the wiser.

Mace waved a hand frustratedly.

“Sorry, Plo explains it better”

“Plo?” Obi-Wan loved Master Plo. He loved all of them. And they were gone.

“Hello Obi-Wan”

“Well, if Plo and Depa get to see him I’m bloody well here too!”

“Hi Obi”

“Obes!”

He could only watch, speechless, as the faces of old friends, comrades, mentors and carers crammed into his hut, all looking at him with unadulterated, unfiltered pleasure and love was the last thing he saw before his scrambled brain decided it’d had enough, and he knew nothing but darkness.

---

It turns out, living with the forms of all your dead teachers, carers and friends was actually rather trying, after a while.

“Oh thank goodness you’re not still drinking that awful caff”

“I like caff – Master Plo please don’t try and lift that”

“Relax Obi dear, we’re incorporeal”

“Can still see things though”

“Vos get out of my fresher!”

“What does this do?”

“Never you mind. No don’t – Ugh. Why don’t some nice, well behaved padawans ever come to see me?”

“They’re not allowed, only those who knew you personally can visit. We thought it might get a bit stressful otherwise.”

“…I can’t imagine.”

Aside from having to adapt his busy routine to accommodate half a dozen fidgety and curious…ghosts (?) poking around his small hut at any one time, another unexpected addition to his (attempted) isolation on Tatooine was the nagging. And Force could they nag! The concentrated worry of many, many, beings with nowhere else to direct their extra energies was powerful.

“Obi-Wan you haven’t drank enough today. Go and check the vaporators”

“Padawan aren’t you going to eat?”

“Listen, that plie of cloth can’t be good for your spine”

“Force! Get some sun block Kenobi or you’re going to look like an old shoe in three months”

“No right, I saw a sunhat he can buy at the market”

It was…weird. He’d always been very self-sufficient, not to mention being the centre of everyone’s attention was difficult, to say the least. But as the months went on, he found himself transitioning from awkward acquiescence to see-sawing between mulishness and good-natured obedience. The stubbornness rising usually when the despair did. But those days were few and far between.

And now, when they did occur (for one can only avoid one’s demons for so long) and he felt like he was drowning in the weight of existence, he could rely on his friends for encouragement, care, and the motivation to carry on.

“If you join us before your time I will KILL you Obi-Wan Kenobi. Now kriffing well eat something!”

---

Of course, when their brother, friend, son, comrade, teacher and last hope did at last join them, there was no nagging or disappointment (or violence). The ultimate Jedi was back in the fold and they were once again complete.

[shozaii]

title: too feisty.

genre: angst.

characters: dazai, chuuya, kunikida, akutagawa.

warnings: rough behavior, the boys arguing with you :(

request: hi, i could ask for scenarios and headcanons for dazai, chuuya, kunikida, akutagawa, when i have an argument with my s/o and they don't speak to each other for several days. how it is reconciled and after how many days. thank you very much☺️☺️☺️😉😉😌😌

(a/n): hewwooo anon! thank youuu so much for requesting!! i did my best writing this, so i hope you enjoy reading it! 

masterlist.

☆ d a z a i.

- arguing with dazai is like yelling into the void. he doesn’t really understand why you’re both going through this pain, the torture of the wrong emotions at a very wrong time - when in reality it was all supposed to be sunshine and rainbows. did you not see the sunshine in his eyes anymore? was he going to be left alone again? so many thoughts left his head, yet all he could do was listen to what you have to say.

- simple to say, he is quiet the entire time because he just doesn’t want you both to end up torn; worse, broken. he wouldn’t want to see you break, either. unable to express any of his feelings, he tends to stare at you with a thin line formed on his lips.

- it depends on what you’re arguing, really. if he knows it’s his fault, he obliges to it. if he’s just confused, his darkened gaze burns into you. he looks like he’s about to flip. instead, he huffs softly, walks up to you, and looks right at you for a bit.

- once he’s done looking at you, he leaves. he walks and walks to literally anywhere which would give him comfort. he looks up into the sky, and wonders just what he could do to become a better person. after all, it was all for you.

- shall no one come in between and take away one from the other.

- the silent treatment has gone as far as a week. dazai respects the time you need to be alone, even though he is tempted to initiate a conversation earlier than expected. the other arguments have lasted for at least 2-3 days. i wouldn’t see him asking for help from anyone - he wants to show you and himself that he has the capability of reaching himself out to you, owning up to his mistakes and reconcile. if it was you who returns first, his heart would literally shatter. 

- i feel like he would call you to come over to the favorite spot of yours, or maybe walk up to you one fine night, wrapping his arms around you, planting slow kisses on your neck. his way of apologizing is sometimes through affection, or touch. it’s like a reassurance that he’s going to be there for you, and he understands that arguments do happen once in a while. 

☆ c h u u y a.

- he might get really irritated. no cap. i have a feeling he might blow up on you just a little? but the irritation mostly comes from the moment the two of you start arguing. he clenches his fists a whole lot, might chew the inside of his lip, try not to look at you in the eyes because he might start tearing up too.

- oh he might go as far as to slamming his hands on the table, which would leave you taken aback by his actions. once he realizes what he did, he just crumbles because holy crap did he not want to see you panic. 

- chuuya doesn’t like silent treatment at all. i feel like he would have a fear of abandonment. the pre - port mafia days didn’t treat him right. at this point his heart is thumping hard because when you both begin the treatment, he knows he’s not going to go through this well. so how does he cope? wine. but he doesn’t go to a bar. it’s always from the stock he saves at home. he possibly never leaves the house, either - except for serious missions.

- he shakes when his comrades tell him to text you, so practically he would rather do it face to face. it seems way more better that way for him. this period lasts for about 2 days max. he can never go beyond that.

- cue him engulfing you into a warm cuddle sesh; it’s going to take a while for him to let go of you. he talks about how wrong he was, how he’s going to make it up for you - i feel like he would’ve gotten you something just in case. he’s just willing to spend tons for you i swear

☆ k u n i k i d a.

- i feel like one of his written ideals about you/arguments is him reminding himself that conversation is key. it doesn’t have to be any specific topics; it must be implemented in everything. i have a huge headcanon that kunikida tends to get nervous if he has to let out an opinion he never has put out about, until the very last minute where he has to decide his own fate - right or wrong?

- but nope, he’s not reserved. he would let you know exactly how does he feel during the argument, though he would never, ever try and raise his voice at you. let’s just say you accidentally raise your own, he wouldn’t be bothered by it either, and would maintain his composure.

- yes, he does get angry very easily. but when it comes to you his guard gets let down, and he is more of himself when it comes to conversations with you. fights are very rarely heated. 

- i think they do get pretty intense when he’s just so stressed out with work in general, worried if he could protect you during these trying times, paperwork maybe? or how you might take his job easily while he doesn’t. it doesn’t hit him at first but when he does realize that he screamed at you, his heart drops to his feet. the longest you have not talked to each other is for about a day.

- sometimes i forget that kunikida is younger than dazai. but anyway - if dazai notices kunikida’s sour face, and somehow dazai gets him to spit it all out. this would somehow give clarification to kunikida that his partner isn’t all that bad when it comes to advice. he would give pretty good ones and fulfil his role as a senior.

- when he apologizes he looks down at the floor, but slowly proceed to look up into your eyes if he realizes this is his opportunity to take. 10/10 would give you the smallest apologetic smile, and might even kneel while taking your hand. he’s just sooo in love with you aksjkdjkj

☆ a k u t a g a w a.

- hot-tempered. send tweet. 

- a little bit like chuuya to be honest. would bang his fists against a hard surface, stomp the floor, or crush any type of object he has in his hands. but never, ever expect him to use rashomon on you. having you in his life was more than a gift itself, so using his ability on you wouldn’t even be on the last things he would do.

- maybe when he does show his anger by banging and smashing things around, you would see a red glow which would cause you to back away or be afraid of him. this is his turning point. has he officially scared you already? was he bad? what did he look like in your eyes? what’s your next step?

- not talking to each other would probably last as long as a week? two weeks. it’s what i see. he gets scared of himself too, and might as well get a panic attack from what he has done to hurt his loved one. he’s always wanted you to be his first and last. would go to more missions to distract himself (and win most fights, but fail at forgetting about the argument you had). 

- in this case, it would take some time for him to loosen up and talk to someone about it. he might have done this once. only once, never repeated again because he’s just so embarrassed to do so. 

- aku would start the conversation. he’s lightly tap on your shoulder and might utter the words, “let’s talk” but tiny. as for affection, he would kiss your hand and look away, flushed. there would be this lil pout too, but at least you guys are one again.

(a/n): after a long time, here i am with a new fic for bsd!! i feel accomplished now UwU!! lemme know what you think!!🥰❤

[angel-letters]

snow days

PAIRING: levi ackerman x gender netural reader (can be taken as platonic or romantic)

DISCLAIMER: while not directly stated this story does deal with depression, and i understand that sometimes reading stories such as this one can make your own depression worse, so please feel no obligation to read it. your own mental health should be your priority. it is also important that if you are not feeling well that you reach out those around you, you’re not alone in your battle. there are also curse words, because apparently i can’t go without cursing.

WORD COUNT: 3551

DOLL’S NOTE:  did i project onto this because my own therapy session was cancelled because of the snow and maybe the fact that i just hate the snow in general because it makes me feel crappy? maybe possibly, but what can you expect when i’m supposed to get 4-8 inches when normally we get less than an inch? also, before i got the chance to finish writing this i had to go work and while i was working i was reading the web comic the maid and the vampire, so as i was writing the last part of this i kept thinking of millard, like the feelings i have for that man, oh my. also, once again, a thank you to @setenuma​ for helping me edit this garbage.

The Writing Room!

You hated the snow. You hated the way the cold of it seemed to seep deep into your bones, how it made your limbs feel like lead, and turned your fingers blue. But most of all you hated the burden of memories and feelings that flooded into your mind with each new snow fall.

You still kept up with your duties, completing training drills and paperwork the way you had always done. Appearing perfectly fine and normal to those in the regiment that did not know you as well, but to those that did they noticed plenty the sloppiness that took place during training, noticing how you seemed to not care if you put yourself in a position that on an expedition would have gotten you killed. There was also the new found sense of heaviness in the air around you, like you were Atlas, carrying the world on your shoulders.

Slowly as the days turned colder and colder you found yourself distancing yourself from your comrades even more, opting to spend all your free time in your office alone completing paperwork instead of staying in the dining hall with the other high ranking officers and squad leaders, drinking tea and listening to Hange ramble for hours about new experiments and discussing new training exercises.

Most still tried to interact with you, trying to cheer you up, Hange would come and try and drag you off to help with an experiment, Mike would try and hold idle chit-chat with you, and Erwin would ask for your opinions on new formations in hopes of distracting you. However in the end all of them decided that it was best to leave you be and let you come to them when you were readly. Well everyone except one person.

Levi Ackerman.

The man refused to allow you a minute of solitude. Always finding you wherever you hid, two cups of tea in his hands and a stack of paperwork under his arm. Even if no words were spoken between the two of you, for you, however, it was the most calming part of your day, when it seemed that the bombardment of memories and feelings finally slowed down.

You and Levi had always had a special sort of bond, perhaps that’s why being in his presence had such a calming feeling for you. A bond that had developed when you yelled at Flagen for being much too harsh to them and consistently offered all three of the newcomers help whenever they needed it. Helping Isabel learn to tack up her horse, answering all of Furlan’s questions about the world above, and even sneaking a tin of tea leaves to Levi after hearing about his liking of tea from Isabel. Then when Furlan and Isabel were killed you were the one that took their wings of freedom from their jackets to give Levi. It was a small gesture but it’s one that led to you being the closest person to Levi other than Erwin.

-

It was another one of those days where you had hidden yourself away in your office, busy signing and filling out paperwork when your door was opened, not bothering to look up as a familiar voice rang out into the room.

“Get your ass up brat, Erwins called an emergency meeting for some shitty reason,” the raven haired man grumbled, arms crossed as he leaned his back and right foot up against the door frame, staring across the room at you with steely grey eyes.

He was worried about you, yes, though he would never admit it out loud. Throughout all his time as a scout you had been one of the most consistent people he had ever met. You weren’t the cheeriest person around, but then again not many people in the scouts were (though it wasn’t without reason), but you had a kind soul and a warm smile that helped calm down even the most distressed soldier. The only problem with you was that you were secretive when it came to your own feelings. You would offer an ear and advice to any soldier that asked, but never did you let yourself show vulnerability, instead you hide yourself away until you can put a brave face on and Levi hated it. After everything that the two of you had gone through he felt like you knew more about him then he did you and he had tried everything to get you to open up to him. Asking Erwin to move your squad closer to his in the formations so that two of you could ride together, mixing most of your training exercise together, preparing tea for the two of you during late nights. He had placed himself within nearly every part of your schedule and you in his, but no matter how many inside jokes and late nights it still felt like you had a wall up that you refused to let down, even around him.

Placing the paper you had just finished on a stack to your right you placed the pen in your hand down as you stood up from your desk, and silently joined the shorter man at the door. A feeling like a knife went through Levi’s heart as you said nothing when before you would have come up with some sort of snarky remark to his jab. Instead of saying anything however he pushed himself off of the door frame and started down the hall, with you by his side, to Erwin’s office.

-

You sat at a large wooden table with the other senior officers. Erwin, as the commander, sat at the head of the table discussing the plans for the latest expedition outside of the walls, Mike sat to your left, Hange to your right (being loud as always), and Levi was directly across from you staring at you once again with those steely grey eyes of his. Normally you would have returned his gaze with one of your own, raising a brow and maybe throwing in a wink to make him roll his eyes and turn his gaze back to Erwin, but today you opted to turn your gaze downwards. Glancing at the papers in front of you attempted to read them, though you knew it was pointless, no matter how many times you read them over you never retained any of the information, similar to know matter how hard you tried to listen to what was being said you never seemed to be able to properly comprehend what was being said. It was frustrating to say the least.

“According to the weather experiments that Hange has been performing it appears that there will be a massive storm arriving within the next couple of days. That is why, after careful consideration, it has been decided that should a storm take place that all troops will be given the day, and following days off as it will be near impossible for any training to take place,” It was the last of Erwin’s announcements and though the blond spoke like he doubted the storm would take place, everyone knew that while often extravagant, Hange’s experiments often worked, with their weather experiments becoming fairly accurate in predicting the weather. So with the idea of maybe getting a little more sleep, and being able to escape your mind just a little, in a couple days you left the room with the others, returning to your office.

-

The storm that Hange had predicted did happen, starting with low howls of wind late in the night, as clouds burden with snow covered the sky, sending large flakes of snow down onto the earth. By the time that the sun had risen the next morning, though the winds had not calmed by much and the snow was still falling, large drifts of snow had formed around the scouts headquarters. With the lower ranked soldiers being informed of the day off, most stayed in the mesh hall, playing games of chess and idly chatting, while senior officers went to their offices, attempting to catch up with overdue paperwork now that they had a day not filled with training drills. You however were a different story.

You had woken up just as the sun was rising to be greeted with frosted window panes, and a chill that seemed to speed in from the outside, numbing your body even with the fire that was still going in the fireplace. The fatigue that was filling your mind also did not help the chill that had crept into your body, making you want nothing more than to sleep, and perhaps you could. Erwin had said that when the storm blows in they would all be given the day off, so perhaps, just once, you could give into your mind and just sleep. Yes a part of you screamed that no matter how bad you feel, no matter how hard it is to bury everything you’re feeling, you need to get up, go and eat breakfast and do your work. But the thought of food had your stomach in a knot and the thought of paperwork brought back the image of fog whenever you had been working the past days. So before you could tell yourself no you sank back into your bed and pulled the blanket up and over your head and went back to sleep.

-

Levi was in a panicked mood to say the least, though it did not appear so if anyone were to comment. He had waited for over an hour for you to appear in the mesh hall, and when you hadn’t he had merely shrugged it off as a day that you weren’t hungry (he’ll bring some bread alongside the tea he normally brings later), but slowly as the day went on and as he continually went back and forth between all of the places you went to be alone and his own office, you were nowhere to be found. He had checked the library, Mike, Hange, and Erwin’s offices, the storage closet on the east wing, he had even braved the cold weather and checked the stables. So now with just one place left, if he didn’t find you he was going to raise a high alarm, after all it was already late into the afternoon and not one person had seen you all day, if that wasn’t a reason to worry or panic then he didn’t know what was.

Arriving in front of the room that had you shared with Hange (though it was more of just your room as they tended to sleep in their lab), he tried the handle, finding it unlocked (thankfully he didn’t have to kick the damn thing down, he let himself into the room. Shivering slightly as he walked in, automatically noticing the dying fire in the fireplace, however he quickly turned his gaze to the bundle of blankets on the bed. Pushing the door shut with his hand he quickly turned the lock before he walked slowly towards the bed. Reaching his hand out to grab the blanket, he hesitated, was this the right thing to do? Should he bother you like this? But before he could decide to leave (he doubted that in that state you were that you had even noticed him) he remembered something, a promise the two of you had made.

-

The night sky had shone so bright that night, if felt like it was mocking him, with each night since their passing not even a cloud crossed the night sky. He may have chosen not to regret anything that happened, chosen to follow the man he had been sent to kill, but that didn’t mean grief did not find its way into his heart. As his mind clouded, silent tears falling down his cheeks, the sound of a cup being placed next to him startled him. Jumping to his feet, his hand reaching for the knife in his pocket, he was surprised to find you there, laughing softly as you held a cup out to him. Eyeing you suspiciously he glanced between the cup and you.

“It’s not poisoned if that’s what you’re thinking, I would drink it to prove it to you, but as much of a clean freak you are I don’t think you would appreciate that now would you?” Rolling his eyes he sat back down, (in the same spot he had sat every night he had come up here with Furlan and Isabel) taking the cup gratefully, though still eyeing you as you rested you arms on the way, now holding your own up between your hands, eyes aimed towards the sky.

He couldn’t help but wonder why you went through all the trouble, why you’ve gone out of your way since he first arrived, to try and befriend him (if that’s what you were trying). Even after knowing he had joined the scouts to kill one of your own friends, you had still cared enough to hand him the bloody wings of freedom that had belonged to Furlan and Isabel, and every day you made sure to greet him when passing by, or even dragging him off to train with your squad, because (and he could quote it), ‘Flagen’s an ass and you won’t learn anything from him’. Now even, you had sought him out in the middle of the night, when he was at his lowest, to offer him a cup of tea. Why, what were you gaining from this? Most everyone else still treated him like an outsider, so why were you so kind?

“You’re wondering why aren’t you? Why am I so kind to you?” you mused softly, speaking his thoughts out loud for him. Looking his way, you met eyes briefly before he turned his gaze away, silently answering your own questions. Another small laugh escaped you as he avoided your gaze.

“There’s no reason, if you must know, no reason other than I don’t think that you should be alone after everything that happened.” He scoffed at that, causing you to laugh once more, humans were selfish creatures, that much was true, so you had to have a reason, something that you wanted, but for the time being he would indulge you, you were rather calming to be around (and not just his curiosity getting the better of him). So he sat silently, occasionally speaking up, as you talked about random things to fill the silence. The two of you stayed like that for several hours into the night, and it wasn’t until you both were finally heading to bed to get the few hours of sleep that you could before you would be required to be up and training, did he ask what the both of you knew had been on his mind all night long.

 “What do you get out of this, what do you want in return? And don’t say nothing, everyone wants something.” You smiled softly nodding as you thought carefully.

“I really do want nothing, but if it satisfies you, I’m doing what I would want someone to do for me if I were in your shoes, so why don’t we say that what I want in return is for someone to kick me in the ass if I ever appear to lose hope in everything, okay? Does that work as an answer for you?”

Though shock coursed through his body, he rolled his eyes, letting out yet another scoff among thousands that he had made during the night, muttering, “I suppose that works.”

“Great, then it's a deal. I keep annoying you and in return if I ever get mopey and depressed I expect you to kick me in my ass and tell me to get over it,” you said, laughing all the while.

-

‘If I ever get mopey and depressed I expect you to kick me in my ass and tell me to get over it.’ That was what you said, so while you may end up being momentarily pissed at him for what he was about to do, you could only blame yourself, after all you were the one who said he could do it.

Grabbing the blanket with both hands he gave a hard tug as he pulled it off of you, shaking you awake. As the sudden cold hit your body and light flooded your face, blinding you, you blinked your eyes quickly, trying to adjust to the sudden light while giving Levi a look of, ‘what the hell are you doing?’

“You look like shit,” Levi said once you met his eyes, and it was true. Your hair was a mess, your eyes bloodshot and swollen, tear streaks running down your face, your skin looked duller than normal, but those were not the things that shocked Levi. The look of absolute defeat, of brokenness shook him to his core, never had he seen you look so small and helpless, causing him to yell at himself mentally for not realizing how badly your mental health had become. 

“Yeah, yeah, now what do you want,” you eyed the blanket that he had ripped away from you longingly, but made no move to try and take it back, your arms felt too heavy to move, pushing yourself to sit was hard enough.

“I’m here to get your lazy ass up, seeing as you decided to sleep all day.” You raised your eyebrows, glancing to look at the window, to see that long shadows had started creeping across the land outside of your window, the sun would be setting soon.

Sighing, Levi draped the blanket over the headboard, reaching a hand out to gently grasp your chin to turn your gaze back to him, “What’s wrong brat?”

“Nothings wrong, I just decided to sleep all day. What's wrong with that.” While you still denied it, one look, however, he could tell it was a lie. From the way your eyes watered and refused to look at any part of him, knowing that you would cave if you looked directly at him and not wanting to burden him with your own memories and feelings, he already dealt with more than his fair share.

“Don’t lie to me. And if I must remind you, you gave me special permission to beat your ass if you ever got like this.”

“I-,” you finally met his eyes, seeing for the first time the amount of worry that shone behind them, “fine,” you mumbled, slipping out of his grasp and resting your back against the wall, staring at your hands as you gathered you thoughts, trying to find a place to start. Slipping his boots off Levi joined you on the bed, resting against the headboard, arms crossed as he waited patiently.

Once your thoughts had been gathered you started speaking, telling the story of all the people you could never save. Your fellow cadets that had graduated from the same cadet corps as you, joining you as a scout (there had only been five of you who had joined that year), all of whom had died during their first expedition, leaving you alone. Of fellow squad mates that were killed saving you, fresh new cadets that you were given to train that never made it through their first expedition. The guilt you felt from not being there to save Furlan and Isabel. The screams of mothers when told that their child was dead and never returning home. Then finally, as your voice became shaky and tears had filled your eyes until you could no longer see clearly, you told him of your siblings. Of the snowstorm that rolled through your hometown, of the argument you had with your parents, how you had left right before the storm had it, leaving for a friends house, and how your younger siblings had gone out in the storm to search for you only to not be seen again until spring, about the blame your parents had placed on you, and the blame you placed on yourself. You told him everything as he sat silent, watching as your highest wall crumbled and fell to the ground.

He had known you were a kind soul, but he had never realized just how kind you were, how much you cared for people, and how much you blame yourself for not saving people who could not be saved. Stepping out of his comfort zone you reached his arms out, wrapping tightly around your torso as he pulled to his chest, whispering soft affirmations, and speaking of all the lives you had saved. And as he held you in his arms, speaking to you and rubbing calming circles on you back as you fell apart before him and sobbed your heart out, you realized something. You weren’t in this alone in any of this pain, there were others all around you who felt the same, friends, strangers, so many people in your own life who had also lost others and shared in the same grief and pain as you. You realized that as long as you reached out to those you cared, you would never be alone.

Wrapping your arms around the dark haired man, between your sobs, you whispered out a small thank you, for caring, and for reaching out.

[aspoonofsugar]

Hello, and thanks again for answering my questions

I want to ask you about Hirotsu, this man is baffling me, rather his rank in the Mafia is not commensurate with his tenure.

He is a senior member and a veteran, he was there before Dazai and even before Mori, and despite that, his rank is lower than Aktagawa and even lower than Higuchi, it seems that he does not receive the appropriate status for his tenure and he has a strong ability as well

Do you think there are reasons for that? Koyo is like Hirotsu for being a mafia before Mori, but she enjoys a high position as a CEO and right after Mori.

Does he lack ambition or does Mori see him as a threat and don't care about his promotion? He seems tolerant of Dazai despite his betrayal of the Mafia.

Seeing the old man being trampled on by younger people Dazai, Aktagawa and Higuchi is a little sad to me though it is normal since the hierarchy is based on competence and merit.

Hi!

I should probably reread the series to properly answer BSD, but in general...

I like Hirotsu, I think he is a voice of reason in the mafia and he clearly cares about his comrades. That said, he is probably lower than others because he is not that strong. This does not mean he can't be an important player as he has shown multiple times, especially by giving advice or helping out the younger ones.

In general, I would not judge a character by their power or strength alone since it is something the series itself invites readers not to do. Ranpo has no power and is the smartest character in the series (or one of...). The current plotline with Braham has literally a child Kunikida saved be the hidden hero of the series, etc.

Hirotsu might not be as strong as Aku or Chuuya, but he is clearly wise, knows many secrets and is loved by those around him.

Thank you for the ask!

[tarithenurse]

Nightingale - 32

Fandom: Naruto Pairing: Hatake Kakashi &/x Fem!OC Contents: Fluff, pining, hopes, powerlessness, feels, sadness, plotting of various kind. A/N: As usual, ASK or REBLOG for tag! HUUUGE thanks to all who are reblogging already <3

Ch. 32

For a moment, it’s possible to see the old man’s arm stretch out to hand over the cup reflected in the metal of a headband. Kakashi’s trying his best not to stare at the object on the low table while the Hokage pours tea and talks (at length) about the Flame of Konoha, what it means to protect the people living in the Village.

“She did well,” the Third smiles crookedly, “to the point that I wonder...?”

The jōnin wait a moment before prompting an end to the sentence, “...wonder...what?”

“You are skilled and, judging by your team’s progress, capable of guiding others to learn.” It’s not exactly an explanation, but this time it doesn’t take any nudging. “It may be part of why she chose you over everyone else to begin with when she needed to earn our trust...the result is visible but now very few know her as well as you do.”

Is it going to cost her the chance of becoming a shinobi of Konoha? Genins, like Team 7, spend time on simple missions not only to improve their skills but also to prove their worth in the eyes of comrades and civilians alike. Uguïsu hasn’t. In fact, this imitation of the chunin exams is the first opportunity for others to assess her abilities and personality – the few who really knew anything had been present at the trials, as Kakashi silently calls the hearing.

“I am inclined to allow her to earn the probationary rank of chunin on two conditions.” The old eyes hold no menace but unwavering determination as he studies the jōnin's features for any reactions. “She will assist Yamanaka and Morino at their discretion.”

The younger man nearly has to bite his tongue to ask calmly, “...and?”

“She will not partake in missions with you and Team 7 for the foreseeable future.”

It feels like a punch to the guts he’s seen coming a mile away without being able to avoid it. This is not my choice even if the decision hadn’t already been made. “She has already agreed to this...hasn’t she?”

“We have discussed various possibilities.”

...

Scattered clouds amble past the moon above when Kakashi leaves the Hokage.

One word had taken the other, adeptly navigated by the old man until the conversation flowed in the comfort of the past or danced among gossipy rumours and tall tales. Sarutobi senior had always been able to make his subordinates feel at ease, freely giving advice on various subjects without it sounding like a lecture.

And so...here we are. The young jōnin sighs, choosing to stick to the shadows as he walks, hands in pockets, without a clear goal. Tucked in behind the vest lies a headband, the metallic plate already warmed by the heat his body exudes. He could go to Uguïsu. Knock on her door and present her with the expected news...and most likely wake her up in the process, considering how deeply the woman had been sleeping last Kakashi saw her.

I could find Iruka. The teacher had invested a great deal of time and energy to assure the stray nightingale could feel comfortable while the academic voids were filled, so it only makes sense to let him know that the efforts have born fruit. Still, Kakashi’s feet keep on a different path.

Asuma, then? The bearded man is most likely not at home, but rather paying Kurenaï a visit. It would be a shame to impose.

The white-haired man is unsure what is holding him back until he enters the graveyard. The moonlight fleetingly makes the white stones glow in the night – row upon row of hauntingly identical slabs left as a constant reminder for generations to come of people long gone...and despite the similarities, one still stands out.

“Is it wrong of me?” he whispers, muffled by the mask, to Rin’s chiselled name, “I never quite understood what you felt...what you needed. Do I understand you now?”

They had been so young and Kakashi had only truly grown and matured after the loss of his teammates. But the grave is silent, giving no answers or signs if the girl would have been happy for him and there is nothing left to do but turn away and walk along the path to the one burial place that does stand out from the rest.

Tucked away in the furthest corner, the rough-hewn stone seems even darker than normal in the shadows of the tree. Kneeling down, Kakashi brushes away a few stray leaves that already have fallen as a precursor to the coming fall.

“You’d have liked her, wouldn’t you?” It might not be audible, but the taste of bitterness appears in the back of his throat. “Would you have invited her over? You always seemed...fond of those who didn’t quite conform.” Vivid memories of a young Gaï comes to mind, conjuring a smile. “Can you imagine? She’d spot all the exits and safe corners right away. If I -...” Kakashi hesitates, his eyes widening at a strange, new idea. “She wouldn’t feel as cramped there. If I showed her...I could show her and maybe she could...” Again, he falls silent as he struggles with whether to say it out loud. She could live there. Maybe...maybe we... “I’d have to clean first, father. No one's been in the house for years except for me when I stop by.” He rarely does: the place holds too many lonely thoughts. “I could clean it. The roof needs patching. And the garden! I’d have to tend to that, get rid of the weeds and then maybe I can ask Kurenaï what plants would be good...something easy, though, because I don’t want ‘Guïsu to feel obliged to keep the place. That’s not the point.”

Or maybe it’s too much? Kakashi promised not to pressure the shy woman and he’ll be damned if he breaks that oath no matter how rapidly his heart beats at the idea of maybe one day...some day...we’ll see.

Daydreams illuminated by soft, golden light are difficult to stow away, and the dark stone has warmed to his touch when he finally manages to return from the reverie.

[konpithepuppy]

[TRANSLATION: POTATO 06.2021]

7 MEN SAMURAI

Proofread by aji10647731 (Twitter)/ @janiappend

Scans not mine

Neither an English nor a Japanese native speaker

Feel free to correct me, thanks

DEGREE OF LOVE

Measuring the degree of love they have for their partner in quiz format. 2 questions that test their relationship and 1 original question for each pair, can they match their answers with each other!? (Interview was done around the 1st 10 days of April)

NAKAMURA REIA x YABANA REI

BEING PIXELATED IN A STREET INTERVIEW?

Yabana: The interview this time is for us pair to match our answers. There are 3 questions in total.

Nakamura: Let us answer after "go". The first question is, "What is the best memory of us two?" Ready, set, go..."my sister..."

Yabana: "Going to an instrument store..." It is clear that we are completely talking about different things (LOL).

Nakamura: Mine is about my sister giving Yabana a jersey. My sister likes Yabana and she gives him advice through me. She gives advice like, "His hair is long, it is better for him to cut it. His hairstyle in summer 2 years ago is good." (LOL).

Yabana: Also, she said, "He always wears shabby sweatshirt," so I received a brand new jersey from her through Reia (LOL).  What I was trying to say earlier is the time where the 2 of us went to instrument store to see some bass.

Nakamura: We also did that! After buying the bass, I got it painted by Yabana's father. But, since we both talked about family members, I wonder if this is partially correct (LOL).

Yabana: Let's perfectly match in the 2nd question. "Describe your relationship in one word." Ready, set, go..."a bad companion!"

Nakamura: "Boyfriend-girlfriend!" We didn't match again (LOL).

Yabana: We often talk but we usually endlessly talk about things that won't do any good, right? That is like being bad friends having fun.

Nakamura: We talk about things like our fave musics or fave manga. Our hobbies match.

Yabana: It's just that there is no substance (LOL).

Nakamura: No matter how late at night it is already, Yabana plays with me when I invite him in a game, so I think our relationship is like a boyfriend who cannot refuse to his girlfriend's invites (LOL).

Yabana: I see. Well, playing a game late at night is also a bad thing so this means that this is also partially correct...(LOL).

Nakamura: Right? (LOL). We are at the last question now. "If you are called for another street interview for a television show, are you going to do it?" Ready, set, go..."I won't do it!"

Yabana: "I will do it!"...we didn't match (LOL).

Nakamura: Well, when Yabana appeared in the street interview for 「Getsuyou Kara Yofukashi」, I asked the manager, "Can I also do an interview like that?" And then, I was told, "No, you can't," by the manager.

Yabana: Really? (LOL)  I also contacted the manager before the filming just in case, I asked if it's okay to take an interview. And then, since the manager said it's okay, it was a chance to advertise 7 MEN 侍 in a television!

Nakamura: It seems like it is okay for Yabana to do it, but not for me (LOL). But I have a feeling that I want to be on an interview too. Oh, well, next time when the 2 of us got interviewed, I think let's do the interview where I am the only one being pixelated.

Yabana: That's probably suspicious in the contrary! (LOL)

SUGETA RINNE x MOTODAKA KATSUKI

THE PERCENTAGE OF WATCHING EACH OTHER'S TV SHOW APPEARANCES IS?

Motodaka: Our best memory, huh.

Sugeta: Rinne thought of something!

Motodaka: Well, let's say our answers. Ready, set, go!

Sugeta: "When we welcomed Reiwa!"

Motodaka: "Sexy Zone's..." Ah!! Wait, that's my answer too! (LOL)

Sugeta: You're  trying to talk about Sexy Zone, right? (LOL) Is it about a concert tour?

Motodaka: Yup. During Sexy Zone's concert tour, only our hotel room was the Cinderella-like (LOL). We were ojousama-like.

Sugeta: That also crossed my mind!

Motodaka: But if we talk about something special, it is definitely the moment where we welcomed Reiwa.

Sugeta: We went to watch a late-night movie, and since it will be Reiwa very soon, we spent time together. When it became 12 midnight, we went," Ye~y, It's Reiwa now~!"

Motodaka: That was special.

Sugeta: I took a screenshot of the time "0:00" that was displayed in my phone.

Motodaka: For me, I recorded the memory of us when it turned 12 midnight that day.

Sugeta: That was nostalgic~!

Motodaka: The next one is to describe in one word our relationship. Shall we it say at once!? Ready, set, go!

Sugeta: "Consultation partner!"

Motodaka: "Comrade!"...Aah (LOL).

Sugeta: When Rinne is not interactive, right? You always try to symphatize with me.

Motodaka: It is a situation where I'll be made to ask, "Did something happen?" You are little bit annoying type of person (LOL).

Sugeta: Fairly, I am easy to understand.

Motodaka: That makes me slightly sullen (LOL).

Sugeta: What do you mean by comrade?

Motodaka: After we each did different projects, we end up in the same unit.

Sugeta: I see. The 3rd question is about how much we watch each other's tv appearances. Let's answer in percentage. Is that good? Let's answer it?

Motodaka: Ready, set, go..."80%"!

Sugeta: "90%"! That was close ~! Rinne records the quiz shows every week. Since I also want to try appearing in tv shows, so I watch shows that I have the possibility to appear in. I almost watch all of the shows where Katsuki appear too.

Motodaka: Me too, more than the shows where I appear, I overwhelmingly watch more shows where Rinne appear than mine. But I can't watch it in real time so I answered "80%".

Sugeta: Rinne watch the shows multiple times because Rinne loves appearing in shows.

Motodaka: I watch shows where I think I did good in recording.

Sugeta: Certainly! I think if I'm not in good shape during the recording, I will not watch it that much. By the way, I still watch my appearance in 「SASUKE」until now (LOL). Everyone watched it during the rehearsal for ARASHI-san's concert, right?

Motodaka: That was exciting~!

Sugeta: I watch with my family Katsuki's appearance in quiz shows. When Rinne got the right answer even though Katsuki didn't, I noisily go, "Why didn't Katsuki got it right?" (LOL).

Motodaka: That's natural for a quiz show. It's tough but that's my fate...

SASAKI TAIKO x KONNO TAIKI

CLEANING AFTER TAIKO CHALLENGE...

Konno: Our best memory, let's say our answers after the go signal! "Fireworks in Odaiba."

Sasaki: "Amusement park!" Ah~that one~ (LOL). The one where we watched fireworks!!

Konno: That was around 4-5 years ago already, right?

Sasaki: That was close to the end of summer.

Konno: Yabana, me, Sakuchan (Sakuma Ryuto) and you (Taiko) were there.

Sasaki: The fireworks were really beautiful. We could see it from the restaurant. Although it is a beautiful memory, it didn't come to my mind~!

Konno: Well, the amusement park is also a good memory. (Takahashi) Yuto and (Iwasaki) Taisho were there too. Everyone went to places like haunted house, it was really fun~(LOL).

Sasaki: There was a collaboration with 「Kurosaki-kun no Iinari ni Nante Naranai」right at that time. I wanted to ride Kurosaki-kun's gondola no matter what so I rode the ferris wheel around 3 times. That was fun~.

Konno: Next, "Describe in one word your relationship." Ready, set, go..."close friends!"

Sasaki: "Consulatation partner!" Well, we said 2 different things but they mean the same thing.

Konno: Yeah. Since we are always together, our trust with each other is not just on the shallow level.

Sasaki:  Even the things that I can't tell to other people, I talk about those with Konpi (Konno). I generally give positive advices to Konpi. When he consults to me saying, "I want to try this but...," I reply, "I think that's great." I think that we won't know the result until we try it so it is better to freely do it.

Konno: For the last question, with the theme that's only for us 2, "What is the best Taiko Challenge episode?" Let's match our answers time.

Sasaki: Okay. Ready, set, go!

Konno and Sasaki: "Shampoo!" Ye~y! (High five)

Konno: That is a masterpiece.

Sasaki: It has the most number of likes and plays.

Konno: The one with cola is also good but if it's the best, then it's gotta be the content with shampoo.

Sasaki: The content with cola became known but even I myself think that the content with shampoo is a masterpeiece. I planned that 2 weeks before the filming. I thought that I'll do that on my birthday. And then, Akarui Tonikaku-san did that in the variety show.

Konno: What a timing (LOL).

Sasaki: I was troubled, "Uwa, seriously! It overlaps with my plan!", but since I wanted to do it so I took the risk and did it.

Konno: Well, that is the best. I like the part where you poured the water to yourself, but what happened to your room?

Sasaki: It got wet. In Johnny's stages, when we use water, the water flows into the orchestra pit (a space that is lower than the main stage), but in my house there's no such system like that!

Konno: AHAHAHA!

Sasaki: That's why with a drainer similar to the one used in cleaning the windows, I cleaned the room by making the water flow into the veranda. Cleaning the mess afterwards was miserable (LOL).

RECENT HAPPENINGS

Sugeta Rinne: I can now do 70kg of bench press! I thought of doing a bench press that is about my weight, but I am happy that I was able to do 10 more kilos from my weight. Since I still do 3 reps x 3 sets, so I want to increase the number.

Motodaka Katsuki: There are also 4th year undergraduates in the graduate school seminar. It was my first time meeting them recently, and I feel excited that they're my juniors. Until now, there are seniors that I am close with, but I don't have a junior who is close with me. I wonder if they'll be close with me!?

Nakamura Reia: My dad gave me the latest game console for my birthday. The controller is amazing that the vibration changes when the character is walking in grassy place and when the character is walking in soil. I don't have that much games for it yet but I want to play with it a lot.

Yabana Rei: A little while ago, I went to watch Rinne's 「Hidamari no Ki」(the show ended) in Osaka. I wasn't able to go in Tokyo shows but it was really popular so I really had to see it. I also watched Sexy Zone's concert the next day, it was a fulfilling trip.

Konno Taiki: When I'm at home or when I'm on the move, I only listen to western music. In someway or another, it looks like I have a phase for Japanese music and western music, and now I am into western music. I keep repeating the songs that I like more than broadening the songs that I know. There are a lot of songs by male artists [that I listen to].

Sasaki Taiko: I have fully mastered the stores in the suburbs of Tokyo that sell in large quantities!  Depending on the store, the proportion varies and that excites me~. For example, 800 yen for 24 bottles 500 mL of water, there are great deals and it is super fun. I also bought toilet paper that I split with my friend.

[kingofthenorth49]

Made in China

I don’t know about you, but it sure feels like we are living through the start of World War III.  

Now before you scroll past and think my tin foil hat is on too tight this morning, hear me out. It’s not like this doesn’t make sense or anything, if you connect the dots it would appear that the next global conflict will look much different than the previous two.  

Think about it. China has been posturing for years to become the next world superpower, and if you can see through the medias bullshit you can read the overtures that are being made in the Asia region along with the saber rattling in the Middle East, you can see that it didn’t take long for Biden to unravel almost 50 years of progress towards peace.

War is inevitable and necessary to the state, and if you ever read Sun Tzu “Art of War”, a Chinese war treatise from the 6th dynasty you would understand the supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting. He also said that the outcome of war is pre-decided and gave solid advice on the best way to conduct campaigns to conquer foreign powers.

Now before you get your panties in a bunch, I’m not accusing China of deliberately inducing a world-wide pandemic through the use of a genetically modified pathogen after spending years devaluating the US dollar using printed money (not like we have room to talk, but we also haven’t been on a buying spree like the Chinese have in say, Canada for example.), but if I were President Xi Jinping that’s what I’d do. The best war is one where you risk no resources.

Again, not saying the Chinese are attempting to destabilize the United States, not at all. Just saying if I were going to take over the world that’s how I’d do it, from a far, using disinformation and creating confusion and chaos in the streets of my enemy. Not like it hasn’t been done before.  

See many of you see people like me as conspiracy theorists, people who are to be dismissed because we believe in things others’ think are foolish, things that seem farfetched and impossible to be going on in a frame of present reference. I just see myself as a guy who likes history and reads a lot of books that were written before Google came along and dumbed down our nations. Anyone who has ever read a book on the rise of the National Socialist German Workers’ Party in 1920’s Germany would understand completely. If you were to pick up a couple other books on how Hilter rose to power on the back of that party, you’d understand also how quickly people can be manipulated, and how the media and ideology can quickly create a firestorm of hate that makes it easy for societies to crumble. Read even further on how the German army used deceptive tactics to invade Austria and Poland so quickly they didn’t have a chance to prepare.  

That’s not a conspiracy theory, that’s history and we all know those who fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it.  

I guess watering down history is a good thing, right? Taking down statues, changing historical accounts in the name of political correctness, and not encouraging people to critically examine all aspects of history to learn from them helps us become a better society.  

Let me give you the Cole’s notes version of how quickly things can go off the rails when the wrong ideology gains traction in a society where people intend to do evil. Again, not saying our current situation is remotely commensurate with our current situation, but it’s a good example of how quickly things can go from good to evil.

Here we go.

1933 - The Nazi Party takes power in Germany. Adolf Hitler becomes chancellor (or Prime Minister) of Germany. Nazis temporarily suspend civil liberties.

1934 - Hitler combines the positions of chancellor and president to become “Fuhrer” or leader of Germany. Jewish newspapers are no longer allowed to be sold in the streets of Germany.

1935 - The Nazis intensify the persecution of people that do not agree with their political philosophy. Jews are deprived of their citizenship and other basic rights.

1936 – Nazi's boycott Jewish owned businesses. The Olympic Games are held in Germany; Signs barring Jews are removed until the event is over. Jews no longer have the right to vote.

1938 - German troops annexed Austria. On Kristallnacht, the “night of broken glass,” Nazis terrorized Jews throughout Germany and Austria and 30,000 Jews are arrested. Jews must carry ID cards (papers!) and Jewish passports are marked with a “J”. Jews no longer had businesses, attend plays, concerts etc. (maybe they were unvaccinated??)  All Jewish children are move to Jewish schools. Jewish businesses are shut down; They must sell businesses and hand over securities and jewels. Jews must hand over drivers licenses and car registrations. Jews must be in certain places at certain times.

1939- Germany takes over Czechoslovakia and invades Poland. World War Two begins as Britain in France declared war on Germany. Hitler orders that Jews must follow curfews; Jews must turn in radios to the police; Jews must wear yellow stars of David.

Now I’ll stop there.  

Those are all non-debatable historical facts, no subjectivity in my interpretation, just the facts m’am. Look how quickly one ideology took hold in a country ripe for change. At the time of the 1930’s German’s were desperate for change as they had just came out of world war 1 and were suffering from paying reparations for their conduct during that conflict and when Hilter came along he lit a fire under the German people by blaming the Jews for the loss of WW1.  

Five years. Five years from the time a tyrant took power until he was able to start killing 6 million people.

Now if you are one of those types that believe “it can’t happen again” look no further to all the other genocides over the past 100 years, up to and including the Uighur crisis currently going on in China where they have over 1 million Uighur Muslims in concentration camps and they are mass sterilizing these people to the point it’s actually consider a genocide, as it’s reducing the Muslim population in the western provinces of China though declining birthrates. If these women don’t submit to forced intra-uterine devices or monthly pregnancy tests, they are put in prisons.  

Put in prision because they needed to take a test, shot, or device and wouldn’t?  

Say it ain’t so Joe, say it ain’t so.

Folks, some people are evil. Rotten to the core. They have no soul and are in the most desperate need of getting laid of any person on the planet. That’s reality. You can choose to stick you head in the sand and pretend the boogeyman doesn’t exist, but in truth the boogey man will always exist because humans are nasty evil creatures capable of the most horrendous conduct, and if you think ignoring them or passing laws to prevent them from doing things are going to stop them, well you are just stupid. Sorry, I can’t soften that up any because I owe it to you to be blunt in these times.

Now if you’ve made it this far I think you would agree that something is amiss these days, there’s too many conspiracy theories of the past few years that are now seeming to be true, yet no one wants to talk about where the end game is. I’m not sure what it is, but I have some theories, most involved China or George Soros, but the data indicates more towards the former versus the latter.

Trudeau loves China, he’s said so on many occasions to the point of gushing over their communist form of government. His father was a Marxist, and his mother loved communists. Literally. **bow chica bow wow**

Hunter Biden and the Big Guy are in bed with the Chinese in a different way that Margret and Fidel. We’ve seen the emails, the testimony, and the allegations. For them, it’s about money. Last week the Big Guy shut down the investigation that Trump started into the Wuhan lab. That’s now created a firestorm that will likely make 9/11 look like a traffic accident. Coincidence? I think not.

We recently had two Chinese scientists with ties to the Chinese People’s Army kicked out of our highest security epidemiology lab here in Canada after CSIS had concerns they were passing information back to the Wuhan lab (a lab so highly classified Canadian scientists have a hard time getting security clearances to access it), and Trudeau drew the ire of senior Canadian military personnel when he bullied them into allowing the Chinese to hold winter war games at CFB Petawawa. Why is Trudeau so moonstruck with China?

Dot, Dot, Dot.

Once again, I hope I’m wrong. I really, really do, but go back and walk that timeline again and ask yourself if you now understand why Netanyahu hit Hamas as hard as he did.

Never again.

Can you blame him Comrades?

Now as you sit here in North America today, especially in Canada, does it not seem eerily similar to what has happened before in history? Keep in mind that Jews were loaded onto boxcars under the premise to take them to safety from the angry German peoples.  

I really do hope my tinfoil hat is too tight and it’s cutting off the circulation to my frontal lobe, I want the Canada back I grew up in, and the America I fell in love with. I just hope this really is just a bad bug that’s part of a cyclical pattern of virology and this isn’t the start of a global war to reorganize the planet power structure and de-populate the globe.

The dots just tell a different story.

Jim Out.

[natgeoyourshot]

Your Story: Viktor Lyagushkin

In our Your Story feature, we ask our members about what inspires their photography, the processes they use to make images, and the stories behind their pictures.

Q. What's the story behind this photo?

A. The world's first exhibition of photographs under ice opened to visitors February 19, 2019, beyond the Arctic Circle in the White Sea. The exhibition, “Until the Ice Melts,” is part of my large project on documenting the animals of the White Sea. The photos were taken from March to September 2018, in the same place where they are now on display, in the White Sea. The exhibition will last until the beginning of the ice melting. There are 10 pictures under ice, 80 x 120 centimeters. One of them is an informational table in Russian and English. For me, the visual part is very important. Many artists exhibiting their works are looking for the correct design, to help their paintings be revealed most fully. The result exceeded all expectations: The ice in the photos harmonized with the real ice; the pictures looked like portals to another world. It seems that the image in the photo is even more real than the surrounding reality. Despite the fact that I was drawn by a visual idea, I was sure this was a way to draw attention to the problem of climate change. The Arctic ice is melting at a catastrophic rate, and Russia thinks very little about it, as if we have enough other problems, and the level of public awareness is zero. Climate change will affect our lives tomorrow and the lives of our children the day after tomorrow.

Q. How was this image made??

A. I was waiting for the visitors near the exhibition while my assistant was swimming behind the visitors with the torch to create the backlight and to divide the divers’ silhouettes from the darkness of water. The only complicated moment was safety rules: We all should be tied with ropes to the surface that do not interfere with each other. There was a technical issue due to the big difference in intensity of light (the ice is bright and the bottom is dark), so I used Scubalamp torches to smooth out the difference.

Q. What do you think about when you’re photographing?

A. When I take photographs, I already have a picture in my head, so I just have to create and push the button. If something goes wrong, I think about how to fix the situation: change the lighting of the scene, composition, or whatever.

Q. What do you like to take pictures of and why?

A. I like to shoot pictures of people in unusual places, as if it is actually an ordinary place, as if they actually live there. There are a lot of places underwater, and I try to choose the most interesting ones.

Q. What do you want to say with your images?

A. The world is more amazing and richer than we expect, and there is much in it that we haven’t even thought about.

Q. Are you a self-taught photographer? If not, how did you learn to make photographs? Whose photography has influenced you the most?

A. I am a scene designer by education, and for many years I worked as a designer in magazines. This gave me an understanding of the composition, color, and technical demands of photo-shooting for a magazine. I looked at works of various photographers—from underwater professionals I would mention David Doubilet and Wesley Skiles— and tried to understand how their pictures were made. At different times my senior comrades gave me important advice. I also thought a lot and tried to look for new solutions, like new light schemes, that would allow me to convey what I feel and to make a photo of what I see in my mind.

Regarding the construction of a photo story, I am very grateful to National Geographic editors Darren Smith, Kathy Moran, and Elena Sheveiko, who explained a lot to me.

See more photographs by Viktor Lyagushkin on Your Shot.

[bluesakura007]

Undeniable - Chapter 3: How Dare You - Khan Noonien Singh x OC

Summary: Zin’s revelation in the courtroom sparks disapproval and an argument with two crewmates who aren’t that keen on letting her go with Khan on the exile sentence she suggested. 

Warning: This chapter’s a little bit of an angsty one.

"We're not seriously gonna let her do this are we?" Said the CMO.

"I think we should. I mean it’s her choice, so if she’s certain that it’s what she wants to do then us trying to stop her’s just not right." Scotty replied.

"What is also not right, Mr. Scott, is to allow lieutenant-commander Hamilton to make that choice and thereby ultimately risk her life at the hands of Khan if she does decide to accompany him in exile." Spock, afterwards, added his own viewpoint. "I am in agreement with Dr. McCoy."

Bones himself momentarily looked off into the distance in reaction to this second sentence. "Still one of the most uncomfortable things I’ve heard in a while."

They and the other five senior crewmembers, which was except for the woman in question and included Carol, were currently gathered together in one of the court building’s empty conference rooms several floors up, all standing in various places around this room in equally varying positions. Some of them were leaning against the wall, others weren’t, some had their arms crossed and the rest instead had them at their sides, during which the cold, white sunlight outside touched, essentially, every surface in sight.

"Chekov, what are you thinking about this?" Kirk asked this ensign.

Pavel appeared to be somewhat hesitant and anxious about providing his answer, but responded after a second or two with, "I agree with Mr. Scott, sir - if Zinalya wants to do this then I don’t think we should stop her."

"I personally don’t know which side to take in this." Said Sulu. "We’ve all seen what Khan can do and what he has done, and I’m as worried about her as the rest of you, but at the same time if she thinks she can help to change him by going with him then we should at least let her try."

"So you’re on the fence?" Said Jim.

"Yes sir."

The captain sighed quietly to himself, in agreement with these points which had just been mentioned and having realised around a minute prior that this was what Zinalya's request for advice the previous evening regarding a "transfer" had really been about. "To be honest with you I’m feeling the same way. I'm on the fence too."

"And me." Uhura nodded her head.

"And me." Carol additionally contributed to the discussion.

"Khan is a highly dangerous man, Doctor; a dangerous man who should not be permitted to leave the Federation with one of Starfleet’s own officers." As Spock put in another point in reply to the blonde woman, it was after this sentence was spoken when, in the doorway behind him, the burgundy haired one who was the subject of all these different sides of the argument suddenly turned up. "Such a course of action would not only mean he has caused her to leave behind a career she has been building on for several years, but will also bring disrepute to Starfleet and put the Federation’s trust in us at risk."

During this, Scotty, Pavel and the others who had the doorway in their line of sight looked at where Zinalya was standing with surprise at her appearance and with a little bit of a desire for her not to have been there to hear Spock. Regardless of the matter at hand, they all still didn’t want to offend her if they could avoid it.

It took a moment of silence for Spock to realise that they were looking behind him at something, to which he turned around to see that she was indeed standing right there. He opened his mouth ever so slightly upon seeing her, as if he was about to say something but didn't know what, and his abrupt realisation was being channelled through the look in his eyes.

Zinalya snorted derisively through her nose at this expression upon his face and fully entered into the room. "No, it's okay, just carry on like I'm not even here why don't you?" She didn't show it externally, but she did feel a tiny twinge of guilt at the way she'd spoken, as she was usually a mild-mannered enough person.

Spock finally managed to pose the question, "What is it that you see in Khan which makes him so endearing to you?"

"Why I’ve got feelings for him?"

"Yes."

Now it was her turn to be stumped for what to say next. "Because I don’t fully know why, but I feel a little like he’s lonely, and like he’s been through a lot because of admiral Marcus." She answered calmly.

"Oh yeah? And whose fault is it that Marcus can’t be brought to answer for what he’s done?" Said McCoy, to which a look of painful recollection crossed Carol’s features for only a second. Despite her clearly expressing her shame beforehand for this admiral to be her father, she could nonetheless oh so vividly remember the sound of his skull being split by Khan and the way in which the latter conveyed his final words to him: You should have let me sleep.

"My decision still stands: I do wanna go with him if they do give him the exile sentence instead of putting him back into stasis." Zinalya said firmly in answer.

The doctor’s eyes narrowed and his jaws tensed up. "Are you out of your bagel-fed mind? God only knows what Khan’ll do to you!"

"You weren’t there when he was crying back on the Enterprise. He was talking about how everyone he had left who he knew and who mattered to him were used against him and most probably killed by then, and he only cried one tear - he was hurting and he still didn’t know how to express it and get it all out. He’s a troubled man, Bones."

"You sound like you’re his goddamn therapist..." He commented to himself, which caused the previously placid and collected Zinalya to suddenly feel a surge of irritation coursing through her body.

"If Khan wanted to hurt me, he would’ve already done it by now." She snarled back through gritted teeth. Pavel turned to look at Scotty, both of them beginning to experience concern at the rising tension between their friend and the Southern doctor. "Somebody with his capabilities would've just done whatever the hell they wanted with no restraint."

"That does not excuse his actions which he has committed, which include the deaths of admiral Pike and the numerous others from the bombing of the Kelvin Memorial Archive and the USS Vengeance's crash into San Francisco." Said Spock. "And even of the captain."

"Yeah, we're all very well aware of how you handled that one." Zinalya, unblinking and with the stony expression on her face still present, responded, recalling one of her own memories of Khan, on that day they were referring to, getting practically dragged through the Enterprise with several gashes across his face and with a broken right arm, and the way Uhura described Spock's rage-fuelled fight against him which caused these injuries. Jim, the revived man himself, was now feeling the same concern at the conversation's growing friction that Scotty and Chekov were.

"Is it absolutely definite that you want to leave with him, lassie?" This chief engineer enquired.

"It is." She nodded.

"There you go then, case closed." Scotty was attempting to finish the discussion so that the source of the almost tangible tension would be cut off.

"It's not just 'case closed'!" Retorted McCoy, before turning his attention back towards the security chief and raising his voice. "Dammit Zin, we're trying to help you out here! Do you wanna end up dead or something?!"

"No of course I don't, but it's nice to be allowed to have a choice!" She snapped back.

"You mean like how you've got the choice of having a relationship and maybe even settling down with pretty much any guy out there that you want, any actually good enough guys out there in the world and in the whole damn Federation, and you picked Khan, a guy who's basically a murderous ass?" He hissed aggressively.

Zinalya fell silent after this was said, matching what the others had already been doing during the last few seconds. And then some moments later, without hesitation, she marched across the room towards Bones and slapped him across the face. Hard.

Everyone's eyes widened, with Kirk, in addition, even doing a brief whistle in this same surprise. Bones' head had been jerked back to one side by the force of the slap, and while he looked back with incredulity at Zinalya, who was now only a few inches in front of him, he spent about half a second using his fingertips on one hand for feeling the area of his left cheek where he'd been hit.

"How dare you." Her voice was only just higher than a whisper, during which her features morphed into a full, deadly glare and the volume of her voice then kicked up again by several notches to the point where she was now shouting at him. "How dare you dictate who I can and can't like and what I can and can't think about someone!"

Feeling as if she'd been betrayed by a man who was supposed to be one of her trusted comrades, it was immediately after she'd finished speaking when Zinalya turned around and stormed back out of the room and away down the corridor, leaving the others with a range of different emotions but with the main one being shock at what had just taken place.

[wandaluvstacos]

Chapter 32 is up! The Sponsors is available at the $5 tier. Books 1, 2, and 3 can be read for free here.

Book Summary:

For the first time in years, Zhas feels confident in his position as zhalja to Bhaza Jabari, a man who is both his sponsor and his secret lover. Not only does Jabari give him control over a shelter for retired zhaljas, but Zhas begins an effort to free a young zhalja from a cruel sponsor. However, his welcome responsibilities quickly crumble away, revealing the truth of Zhas’s helplessness in a world of rich men who see him as little more than a pretty bauble. Zhas isn’t sure how much longer he can stay silent in the face of so much injustice, and to become the man he wants to be, he may have to make sacrifices— and face a deadly enemy along the way. 

Chapter 32 Excerpt:

“Who are the people you love?” Samir asked. “Your sponsor?”

Zhas nodded. Was there any point in denying it now?

“He’s not bad,” Samir said after a long pause. “As far as sponsors go.”

“He’s supported me in everything I care about—the shelter, rescuing Ghani and Qizham, everything. He’s a good person in a world where good people are rare. He’s not perfect, but he understands my need to help others, and I’ve never met anyone who respects me so completely.”

To Zhas’s surprise, Samir had no snippy comment. Instead he played with a bracelet on his wrist.

“Have you ever… I mean, do you love anyone?” Zhas asked, fumbling over the question not just because it was a hard one to ask but because he was asking Samir, someone he’d previously thought incapable of love. “You told me Illhaj, but I assume that’s more of a fraternal love?”

“I suppose you could call it that.”

“Mahdi?”

Samir snorted, and started laughing. Zhas wasn’t sure if it was a joke they shared or if Samir was making fun of him, so he could only manage an awkward smile.

“Mahdi,” Samir repeated with a roll of his eyes. “Zhas, unlike you, I don’t fall in love with men vastly older than me. Especially not ex-criminals with questionable hygiene.”

“Jabari is not that much older than me.”

“Mahdi is twice my senior. I’ve never had any interest in him, nor him in me.”

“Oh. Well, that’s…” Comforting? Expected? Zhas didn’t know what his reply was going to be, so he just let his sentence die.

“Are you always so nosey?” Samir asked.

“Sometimes people ask each other questions out of genuine interest, not because I want to cause your downfall. Can’t I know anything about you? You seem to know so much about everyone else.”

“Yes, a dichotomy I’ve carefully built. I’m not going to tear it down now, as much as you seem to think we’re comrades now.” Samir removed the bracelet on his wrist and snapped it back into place, the gold glinting in the lamplight. “Zhas, if you want my advice, it’s that you must figure out what’s more important to you: your own life or the welfare of a sixteen-year-old boy you hardly know. For me, that would be an easy decision. But you’re a deranged individual, so I can’t predict what you find important.”

Zhas had come hoping for some kind of encouragement and perhaps a well-intentioned lie that nothing could go wrong, but he’d come to the wrong person for that sentiment. Still, he appreciated the truth, and he doubted he’d get much sleep tonight as he mulled it over.

When Zhas stood to leave, he’d just reached for the door when Samir said behind him, “It’s a blessing to have someone who respects you when no one else in the world does.”

Zhas turned around. “You mean Jabari?”

Samir nodded. “You and I both have been zhaljas long enough to know what it’s like to be constantly underestimated and thought a fool. To treated like a child in public and a whore in private. So if Jabari treats you like you say, then you’re lucky. To be loved for one’s wit and intelligence is a rare gift, and it’s not one you should accept lightly.”

Some of Zhas’s anxiety loosened its hold on Zhas’s chest, and a smile was able to emerge, small and fragile as it was. “Thank you, Samir.”

Samir nodded, and his expression hardened once more, like a verdant garden hidden away behind shutters.

[architectnews]

MASS Design Group Architects, Boston, MA

MASS Design Group Boston, Massachusetts Architects, US Architectural Studio, United States

MASS Design Group : Massachusetts Architect Office

MDG: Contemporary American Architect Practice – Boston Studio, MA, USA

18 Nov 2020

MASS Design Group – Architecture Innovator of the Year

MASS Design Group Named WSJ Magazine’s Architecture Innovator of the Year

MASS was named WSJ Magazine Architecture Innovator of the Year for our origins in healthcare and designing architecture as a medium for healing, through our public-health expertise and ability to reimagine spaces for everyday life. Recognized for a range of initiatives, starting with our COVID-19 Response Team work, the award was based on work designing hospitals and clinics around the world with a focus on reducing the spread of infectious diseases.

COVID-19 support started with the Boston Healthcare for the Homeless Program and doctors at New York’s Mount Sinai Hospital, asking for advice on how to keep clients, patients, and healthcare workers safe from infection. “We are committed to the belief that architecture has the ability to provide healing, rejuvenation, and restoration for everyone,” said MASS Co-Founder and Chief Design Officer Alan Ricks.

“We are truly humbled to be recognized among such visionaries. Our collective believes in the power of architecture to improve lives, spread dignity, and advance justice. This award confirms that those aspirations are now shared by the public as well.” —MICHAEL MURPHY, MASS Co-Founder and Executive Director

Rwanda Institute for Conservation Agriculture, Gashora, Bugesera District, Rwanda: photograph by Markn for WSJ magazines

African Leadership University, Kigali, Gasabo District, Rwanda photograph by Markn for WSJ magazines

“Everywhere we work, be in the U.S. or Rwanda or elsewhere, we look for local solutions that produce results and help society move forward.” —CHRISTIAN BENIMANA, MASS Senior Principal and Design Director

Leveraging its expertise from a dozen years of design of medical environments to reduce the spread of contagious disease, MASS applied the lessons to the development of guides for restaurants and foodservice, carceral environments, the construction industry, and housing in senior and Native communities. Work recognized included the Butaro District Hospital; Equal Justice Initiative’s National Memorial for Peace and Justice; The Ellen DeGeneres Campus of the Dian Fossey Gorilla Fund; African Leadership University; and the Rwanda Institute for Conservation Agriculture.

“Helping build a climate positive future is imperative. Our projects move beyond just issues of energy use and efficiency, to holistically design the project ecosystem.” —SIERRA BAINBRIDGE, MASS Senior Principal and Managing Director

The National Memorial for Peace and Justice, Montgomery, Alabama, USA image © MASS Design Group

Read more about MASS’s WSJ Architecture Innovator Award

Watch the 2020 WSJ Innovator Award Honors

Celebrating Our First Decade

JUSTICE IS BEAUTY

JUSTICE IS BEAUTY is a monograph of our work that celebrates the projects, people, and partnerships that have formed the backbone of our practice since the beginning. Click here to purchase.

An exhibit on MASS’s work will be on display at the National Building Museum in Washington, D.C., slated to open in 2021. The exhibit will also include the second iteration of a new national memorial to the victims of gun violence, developed by MASS in partnership with conceptual artist Hank Willis Thomas; gun violence prevention organization Purpose Over Pain; and other nonprofits, survivor networks, and community allies.

The Gun Violence Memorial Project image © MASS Design Group

Previously on e-architect:

27 Mar 2020

Michael Sorkin of MASS Design Group Dies

Architect Michael Sorkin has died from COVID-19

COVID-19 takes the sage: Michael Sorkin rest in peace

Remember our elders:

In many traditions, the elders are not simply “the old people” – they are the culture bearers, the harbingers of language, the repository of rituals. They are our legacies – what binds our past to our future – in human form. When we lose our elders, our legacy too is threatened. The ligaments which bind their knowledge to the generations ahead of us is now no longer their responsibility. It is ours. And unless we record their legacy, culture, language, and wisdom, they are lost.

I fear about how much was lost yesterday with the passing of Michael Sorkin. He was many things to many people over his long career: a dedicated teacher, the last of the great practitioner critics, and a tireless advocate for a more environmentally and socially just architectural reckoning. To me, he was an elder, a beacon for what I hoped to one day practice and understand.

I first met Michael in 2011. It was my thesis presentation, and he was on the jury. My topic was about a progressive publication of architects from the 1970s led by Giancarlo De Carlo, who advocated for social and political responsibility in our profession. I had discovered it on my own, but Michael, the architectural critic of The Nation and then The Village Voice, was not surprisingly a frequent contributor to Space and Society.

I was nervous about his response. But instead of the familiar gutting and rejection common to architectural juries, Michael smiled wide, raised his right arm, fist clenched and said, “Right on comrade.” He was a hero of mine now, and he grabbed me by being himself: funny, righteous, and kind. He was building the army.

Memorial to Peace and Justice, Montgomery, Alabama, USA, by MASS Design Group: image courtesy EJI / MASS Design Group

I saw the battlefield in full force a few years later in 2016, when I was invited to participate in a series called “Cocktails and Conversations” in New York City. This series invites a speaker to choose an interviewer for a public conversation. I was nervous to face a New York crowd of architects, so I invited Michael to prod me on stage and talk broadly about activism in architecture, hoping to focus more on his work and less on mine. But by the time of the event, November 18th, the world had turned upside-down. Only a week before, Donald Trump had been elected.

Never to be constrained by rules, Michael rejected the format of the polite conversation and invited other activists to join us on stage. He drafted a ten-point manifesto. And he turned a polite conversation into a chaotic, unbridled, therapeutic town hall to bring up the issues he cared about most: the carceral state, the destruction of the environment, the privatization of the public sphere against the public good, and the complicity of our profession in structures that reinforce inequity.

Michael’s life long message – often hidden behind the starchitecture and celebrity of our profession – was suddenly felt viscerally by the profession around us. “What will you do now?” He seemed to be asking. “Will you carry the torch? Will you link the wisdom of our years of work to the world you build tomorrow?”

Michael was a sage in our profession, a visionary, a teacher, but also a mensch. He often said that he’d love to make architecture “less evil, more kind.” He was able to hold both anger and compassion together like only a true elder can do.

—

We sat down recently in December, over tea. He was surviving another bout of cancer treatment, so martinis (our usual toast) were not on the menu. We talked about his legacy and what he would leave. He asked me who would fill the gaps in public discourse, in new practice models, in writing and criticism. He was asking: who would step up?

The coronavirus, like all epidemics, reveals the cracks in our systems. In this case, not just the medical system but the architectural system as well. Much as Michael signalled throughout his career: if architecture is tethered to a private marketplace, the building industry, left fragile, will collapse in the face of market corrections, and with it, the public rights it delivers.

Well collapse is upon us. On the horizon is global construction stoppage, supply chain interruption, and a massive abandonment of building and design labor. All the communities we serve will be abandoned too, as housing, hospitals, schools, public spaces, and green infrastructure plans get shelved once again, leaving behind a public asking: why, in the moment of our greatest need for public service, are industries so unprepared to serve the public?

Michael predicted this, too. And his hybrid non/for-profit practice offered a way of working, that could help us now. A practice that did not abandon the public in times of stress, as its hybridity remained somewhat insulated from mercurial market shifts we see around us.

All that is to say, Michael was one of the elders that would have guided our industry through its forthcoming restructuring. It is only too clear that we have lost an oracle and a soothsayer. Someone who exposed the cracks in the system, and sought to use the tools of our profession –- his experimental practice, his acerbic critical voice, his gregarious teaching –- to carry forward a movement.

What cruelty. What more sobering news can there be than the reality that Michael was one of the vulnerable he always fought for? Now a victim to the vicissitudes he sought to protect others from. We are not just compiling numbers of the dead, we are losing our stewards of cultural memory, languages, practices, life, and the kind of avuncular wisdom that can hold anger and love together so that we keep moving.

Michael Sorkin was that elder, for all of us in architecture. I don’t know what lies ahead, but we can be assured that Michael would want us to pick up the torch, with more vigor and determination, if not only for his legacy than for ours.

May you rest in peace, Michael Sorkin, and know that the generation that follows you will carry on what you’ve left behind. Right on, comrade.

Michael Murphy Founding Principal and Executive Director

For more information on how MASS is responding to the COVID-19 pandemic, please visit the website:

Role of Architecture in Fighting COVID-19

Copyright © 2020 MASS Design Group, All rights reserved.

Address: 334 Boylston St. Suite 400, Boston, MA 02116, USA

We at e-architect send our condolences to Michael’s family and to his colleagues at the MASS Design Group.

Sadly he is not the first architect to die in this global pandemic:

Italian architect Vittorio Gregotti dies of COVID 19 coronavirus

Gregotti Associati

Dec 30, 2017

MASS Design Group News

MASS Design Group News

MASS On Stage:

Christian Benimana’s TEDGlobal 2017 Talk Released

On Thursday, December 21st, 2017, TED released a talk by MASS’s own Christian Benimana, about his vision for training the next generation of African architects and designers at the African Design Centre. The 13-minute talk, which was recorded at the TEDGlobal 2017 conference in Arusha, Tanzania, highlights the challenges Mr. Benimana faced to become an architect, and his vision to train young African leaders who share his aspirations.

Mass Design Group TED Talk

Project Groundbreaking:

MASS Breaks Ground on New Redemption Hospital in Liberia

On Tuesday, December 19, 2017, Her Excellency Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, President of Liberia, hosted the groundbreaking ceremony for a new national hospital for Liberia, New Redemption Hospital, located in Caldwell, Montserrado County, just north of the capital city, Monrovia.

The ceremony included the participation of Dr. Bernice T. Dahn, Health Minister, Dr. Peter Coleman, Senator of Grand Kru County, Ms. Larisa Leshchenko, Liberia Country Manager for the World Bank, as well as delegations from MASS and the Clinton Health Access Initiative (CHAI).

The New Redemption Hospital is to be a state-of-the-art teaching and tertiary care facility with a mission to renew trust in Liberia’s post-Ebola healthcare system. The hospital will have a total of 155 beds with a primary focus on pediatric and maternal care.

MASS Design Group 2017 Review

MASS Year In Review:

Construction Begins On The University Of Global Health Equity

In January, site work for the future home of the Butaro, Rwanda campus of the University of Global Health Equity began. Construction is well underway and scheduled for completion in 2018.

MASS Publishes Report On The Impact Of Design On Clinical Care In Childbirth

In February, MASS completed a report with Ariadne Labs, a joint center between Brigham and Women’s Hospital and the Harvard T. H Chan School of Public Health, on research and analysis of how design impacts clinical processes, decisions and outcomes during childbirth. The study earned some positive press including from Becker’s Hospital Review and Quartz.

New District Hospital In Rwanda Hits Milestone

In March, MASS completed construction documents for Nyarugenge District Hospital, a 120-bed facility located in the most densely populated district of Rwanda. The hospital will be our first hospital to use our design standards for the Rwanda Ministry of Health in an urban context.

MASS Co-founder Michael Murphy Headlines AIA National Conference

In April, MASS Co-founder and Executive Director, Michael Murphy, keynoted day one of the AIA annual conference, A’17, alongside design leaders Liz Diller, Alejandro Aravena, and Francis Kéré.

The ADC Hosts African Architecture & Pedagogy Symposium

In May, the ADC sponsored a first of its kind symposium gathering top architects, planners, and scholars from all over Africa to discuss the most pressing issues facing our cities. The symposium created a rare opportunity for these leaders to convene in Africa to discuss the severe shortage of skilled designers needed to produce a healthy and sustainable environment.

MASS Launches Hudson Valley Design Lab in Poughkeepsie, NY

In an effort to be proximate, MASS launched the Hudson Valley Design Lab in Poughkeepsie New York in June. This hybrid office is both a design think-tank and an outreach exhibition gallery that is working to be a local catalyst for changing the perception in our fringe cities and creating regional networks towards projects that aim to empower communities.

Phase One Of New One Acre Campus Opens

By July, the staff of One Acre Fund (OAF) had completely moved into phase one of the new Kakamega, Kenya campus. MASS is currently working with OAF on phase two, which is set to start construction in 2018.

MASS Finalist In International Design Competition

In September, MASS, with John McAslan + Partners, presented in the final round to the jury of the United Kindom National Memorial to the Holocaust. While the submission was not selected, MASS was pleased to be a finalist with such firms as Zaha Hadid Architects, Foster + Partners, and Adjaye Associates, among others.

MASS Breaks Ground On Housing For Oncology Patients

In September, a groundbreaking ceremony was held in Butaro, Rwanda, for a new block of housing for patients receiving cancer care at the Butaro Ambulatory Cancer Center.

MASS Awarded Cooper Hewitt National Design Award

In October, MASS was awarded the prestigious Cooper Hewitt Smithsonian Design Museum, National Design Award for Architecture. The Award was given by Vice Chair of the Clinton Foundation, Chelsea Clinton.

MASS Ranked #8 In US For Design

For the second year in a row, MASS was listed in the top 10 of the design category, in the annual Architect Magazine firm ranking that was released in November.

Maternity Waiting Village featured on CNN’s Inside Africa

In December, CNN published a piece on maternal health in Malawi that featured MASS’s work on the Maternity Waiting Village in Kasungu. The short film was originally broadcast on CNN networks across the African continent.

23 Aug 2016 Memorial to Peace and Justice, Montgomery, Alabama, USA image courtesy EJI / MASS Design Group Memorial to Peace and Justice in Montgomery The Equal Justice Initiative (EJI) unveiled plans this week for the Memorial to Peace and Justice in Montgomery, Alabama. Designed in collaboration with Boston-based MASS Design Group, the new memorial is intended to acknowledge victims of lynching throughout American history.

Winners of the 2012 Curry Stone Design Prize for the Butaro Hospital in Rwanda:

Video, Nov 13, 2012:

MASS Design Group – Key Project

Key Projects by MASS Design Group, alphabetical:

Butaro Hospital, Burera District, Rwanda Date built: 2011 photo : Iwan Baan Butaro Hospital The architects studio was brought in by PIH in 2008 to help plan and design a first-rate facility that would help reverse these conditions. In the design of the hospital, MDG and PIH sought to create a more holistic model of architecture that included the design of an appropriate, state of the art hospital while also fully choreographing the process of construction to employ, educate and empower the local community.

More architecture projects by MASS Design Group online soon

Location: 46 Waltham Street, Boston, MA 02118, United States of America

Boston Architects Practice Information

Architect office based in Boston, Massachusetts, United States of America

Boston Architect Office

MASS DESIGN GROUP

FIRM BIO

MISSION

MASS creates well-built environments using appropriate design, local investment, and innovation to break the cycle of poverty. We collaborate with governments, NGOs, private sector firms, and health care experts to advocate for the most underserved and provide scalable models of community-based development and training.

MASS has shown that innovation, driven by interdisciplinary research and immersion in the field, can deliver well-built environments that are efficient, effective, and empowering. By addressing immediate infrastructural needs and simultaneously building systems to address the social determinants of failure, our work constructs agency, serves as an engine for economic growth, and assures long-term sustainability. We build capacity at all levels—from training unskilled laborers to assisting government ministries in writing policies that establish more holistic and appropriate project outcomes.

PRINCIPAL BIOS

Michael Murphy, Co-Founder and Executive Director

Michael co-founded MASS in 2008 to provide design services for underserved populations in the most resource-constrained environments. In addition to leading the design and construction of the Butaro Hospital in Rwanda, completed in January of 2011, Michael has been the recipient of the 2010 Design Futures Council Emerging Leader Scholarship, and has taught courses on design for infection control and design thinking for business entrepreneurs at Clark University and Harvard University’s School of Public Health.

Alan Ricks, Co-Founder and Creative Director

Alan received his Bachelor of Arts from Colorado College and his Masters in Architecture from the Harvard Graduate School of Design. Alan manages the Boston office working on projects including the Butaro Hospital in Rwanda, GHESKIO Tuberculosis Hospital in Haiti, research on infection control and health facility design for the WHO, and policy development for the Liberian Ministry of Health. Alan is an adjunct faculty member at Clark University and has been a guest critic at Colorado College, Harvard, Northeastern, and the University of Texas.

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Buildings / photos for the MASS Design Group Architecture page welcome

Website: massdesigngroup.org

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