#they become very good very quickly at casual intimacy in the privacy of their own quarters

[tennessoui]

“You always this quiet?” 🙈

ah bless, ok !!! this is set in the couples counseling au, which is post-rots where obi-wan and anakin accidentally sign up for couples counseling, thinking they're going to like. counseling for teams. for people closer than brothers, etc etc. they end up falling in love (of course this IS me). this takes place right after they realize that the counselor thinks they're in love, about a month and a half after they start the counseling.

(again this is obikin, anakin is just both still married to padme for right now and very oblivious)

(1.4k)

Anakin isn’t sure he can look at Obi-Wan right now. He’s had the same dilemma on and off for a number of years, but never because of something this mortifying. And they’d been doing so much better as well. They’d really been getting along so well, cutting their twice-a-week counseling sessions to once a week ones with the approval of their counselor. They’d been making real progress.

And then they’d realized last night that their counselor thought they were…involved. Romantically involved.

It can’t be further from the truth, of course. Anakin has been and always will be in love with Padmé, and the way he loves doesn’t leave room in his heart for anyone else. And besides, his master is just—so perfect. The perfect Jedi, the perfect man. He’d never want Anakin that way. He could probably have anyone in Coruscant he wanted, a thought that fills Anakin’s chest with a weird mixture of pride and distaste. No one deserved his master. He’s always known that to be true, but it’s especially obvious now that they’re a month and a half into their counseling.

Anakin had been horrified to learn how many people in the past had hurt his master, betrayed his trust and tried to break him. He’d been even more horrified that he had been so close to being one of those people, that the war could have ended so incredibly, painfully differently had their time aboard the Invisible Hand gone a little worse. 

But it hadn’t. They’d won, and everything had come to light. Palpatine’s manipulations, Anakin’s own crimes, Anakin’s own betrayal of the Code. Obi-Wan knew everything now.

It’s still surprising to Anakin, the fact that Obi-Wan hadn’t just…left. It speaks of serious attachment on Obi-Wan’s part, attachment to Anakin. It means something that his master had not been able to let him go, that he had been angry and wounded and betrayed but he hadn’t cut ties. He’d agreed almost immediately to Anakin’s half-drunken idea to go to counseling together, talk through their issues and hurts with an unbiased, professionally trained third party.

His agreement had meant the galaxy to Anakin at the time, because it had meant Obi-Wan wanted to work on them. That he loved Anakin. That he wanted them to stay the way they’d grown together: the Team, closer than best friends, closer than brothers.

But too bad for everyone involved that Anakin had accidentally signed them up for couples’ counseling.

Which—in hindsight—makes a lot of things make a lot more sense. 

(Just the memory of Counselor Sheari asking them probing questions about the frequency of their intimacy brings a flush to Anakin’s cheeks. Oh. That’s what she’d meant. He’d thought she’d been talking about casual touching, like hugs.

He’d said not enough, and by the Force, she’d written that down. She’d asked Obi-Wan how comfortable he felt with their level of intimacy, and Obi-Wan had said he’d never been as demonstrative as he was with Anakin, but that it was hard for him, and it was hard to face the fact that his padawan had needs that he’s been failing to meet for years now.

And in the bedroom? Sheari had asked, scribbling furiously on the flimsi in front of her. Is it easier to be affectionate and intimate when you know no one but your partner will be able to see you?

I… Obi-Wan had stuttered, flushed all over. Anakin had thought the dull red of his cheeks had contrasted so beautifully with his hair, lit almost gold from the dying of the Coruscant daylight. I will hold him sometimes, if we sleep together. He had averted his eyes, as if he couldn’t feel Anakin pressing their Force signatures as close together as he could in reward and support. I have nightmares. We have nightmares.

Master Kenobi, Sheari had said, I find it interesting that you seem to take comfort in touch and intimacy, but only in the cover of darkness where only your partner can see you. It’s understandable but curious, given that you say you struggle to be demonstrative in public. Anakin, how does that make you feel?

Wanting, he’d admitted, if only to feel the way Obi-Wan’s Force signature twine with his in return.)

“You always this quiet?” Sheari asks, looking up from her notes to gaze at the pair of them. “I’m kidding,” she clarifies after a second. “After the third shouting match, I’ve marked you down as my loudest clients.”

Right, Anakin thinks dully. Because her clients are married people on the edge of getting a divorce. It’s a category she must think they fit into as well.

“Did something happen last night or in the past week?” she asks, folding her hands neatly on the desk in front of her.

Obi-Wan coughs from next to him. “Oh—no, nothing particularly revelatory.”

Anakin snorts and crosses his arms. It’s just that we realized you think we’re a couple, but Obi-Wan likes you and I don’t want to have to start all over again with some new person, so we talked about it and we’re going to try and pretend that we’re in love. Please don’t tell my wife.

“Hm,” Sheari appraises them. “Actually, I want to try something different today after looking over my notes from the past few sessions. I believe—perhaps from your past, your shared traumas, a sense of propriety and duty, and even a belief in trying to protect the other from the worst parts of yourselves, there is…a wall that you’ve built between yourselves.”

Anakin wrinkles his nose. If there’s a wall, it’s made up of Obi-Wan’s shields. Anakin has been doing nothing for years but throwing himself at them, trying to make them break, a one-man siege warfare.

But—perhaps Sheari has a point. Anakin’s secretkeeping, it had been from fear, yes, but not just of being found out and punished for his mistakes. He’d been afraid of disappointing Obi-Wan, of the man seeing his worst and most ugly parts, his rage and his greed. So he’d pulled away too. He’d built the wall too.

“Alright,” he admits slowly. “Yes. How do we break it?”

There’s a fond curl of amusement from Obi-Wan’s side of the bond, and Anakin sends out a loose question.

Spoken like a true war general, Obi-Wan’s mind whispers back, brusing against his own.

“Thank you for asking,” Sheari says. “I’d like you to climb into Obi-Wan’s lap and remain there for the rest of the session.”

“What?” The both of them squawk, but the counselor remains firm.

“I feel that getting both of you used to casual intimacy—around other people—will be good for you. You want to hold and be held by the other, otherwise you wouldn’t have submitted yourself to this counseling, especially for as long as we’ve been meeting. Now, come on. It’s only for thirty more minutes.”

Thirty minutes? Of—of sitting on his master’s lap as if he were a youngling?

Anakin, his master whispers over the bond, we don’t have to. We can tell her no. I will not do anything you are not comfortable with.

The words draw Anakin to a mental halt. Because that’s—that’s Obi-Wan implying that he’s comfortable with holding Anakin. That he’s worried about Anakin. 

Well, if his master is fine with it, Anakin certainly is.

He tries to not appear too enthusiastic as he scrambles over the couch and into Obi-Wan’s lap, straddling his hips and wrapping his arms around his neck. It takes a little adjustment, Obi-Wan’s hands guiding him with one on his hip and the other on the small of his back, before they’re comfortable. Obi-Wan even goes as far as to ghost a hand up and down Anakin’s spine, and Anakin relaxes into the pressure, his master’s scent surrounding him and calming him. He smells like he always has, the spice of his tea and a bit like the sun. So warm and full of Light.

“Perfect,” the counselor applauds. “How does that feel for you, Anakin?”

Anakin’s eyes catch with Obi-Wan’s. The older man smiles slightly, and his eyes crinkle with his joy. “Perfect,” Anakin tells her, fascinated with trying to count his master’s crow’s feet before they disappear. 

“And you, Obi-Wan?”

“Perfect,” Obi-Wan echoes, and Anakin has to fight the confusing urge to squirm in place from the heavy word of praise. 

[beneathstarryskies]

Hi lovely! Only if you are still doing them, but could I please request a NSFW alphabet for Madara Uchiha? 😊 thank you!

Madara Uchiha x Fem!Reader NSFW Alphabet

(Smutty goodness under the cut)

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

Madara can be a bit distant after sex. If things got particularly rough (and they usually do) he’ll tell you how good you were for him. After that, he kind of likes to be loved on a bit. 

Sex can be a very vulnerable act, and Madara can get a little overwhelmed because he’s not someone who is used to feeling vulnerable. Just let him lay his head on your chest while you play with his hair and listen to him talk quietly about what’s going through his mind.

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

His eyes of course. They’re powerful and he can use them to memorize every inch of you. Not to mention they heighten his experience because he becomes so much more aware of your movements and reactions. 

On his partner, it’s probably a tie between the hips and hands. He loves gripping onto your hips and guiding you against him. He also really just enjoys feeling your hands all over him whether your touches are gentle or rougher. He can’t choose, and honestly, he wouldn’t entertain such a silly topic even if you asked. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Madara definitely wants to cum inside you. This stems from the fact that he’s got a super strong breeding kink. He’s a little bit obsessed with filling you with his seed then staying inside of you to make sure none of it drips out. If a single drop spills out he’ll be like, “So wasteful. Looks like we have to start again.” 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He wants to have a threesome with you and Hashirama really badly. Once he’s super comfortable, he may mention it to you. If you’re not into it, he would never force you to do it. It’s just something he’d be really curious about, and maybe even consider a polyamorous relationship. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s definitely got some experience. Mostly super casual and not exactly intimate. A one-night stand or quickie here and there. He’s learned a bit about what to do to please a partner, but in the past, he hasn’t actually cared much. Once he’s committed, he’ll have to learn how to be intimate. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

In general, he prefers positions where he’s dominant. Even if you’re on top he’s gonna be holding onto you and taking charge. Doggy style might be his favorite. He’ll have one hand on your hips guiding you on his cock while the other hand is buried in your hair. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Madara doesn’t have much of a sense of humor. Sometimes you might find him amusing because he can be a little bratty if things aren’t going his way, but he wouldn’t be funny on purpose. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Madara isn’t super hairy. He has a dark line of hair leading into his pants to a nicely groomed patch of dark hair. He is very prideful about his appearance. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Madara can be a mixed bag when it comes to intimacy. He can be a little distant at times, especially when the relationship is new. Just holding you down and pounding into you without much affection attached. 

However, he does become more intimate once his feelings for you grow. In fact, he becomes downright passionate once he realizes he loves you. He’ll cling onto you and press kisses (and bites) to every inch of your skin. He’ll also become more vocal with praising you. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Madara doesn’t masturbate very much. He has a lot of self-control, and would rather just wait until he can actually just have a proper fuck. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding kink is his absolute number one kink. Nothing turns him on more than fucking you and telling you how he’s going to fill you up with all of his cum. He’s also big into dominating you. Spanking, degradation, blindfolds, and bondage all come into play here. Overstimulation and edging both are things Madara is super into, and they often will come into play in tandem. He’ll edge you for ages until you’re begging him to let you cum. Then he’ll overstimulate you until you’re crying. 

Madara will sprinkle some praise in there as well to remind you that no matter how much he talks shit during sex, he does really love you. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The bedroom is his favorite place because he can really take his time with you. He’s not always that picky though. Sometimes if you’re both out and about and you start being bratty, he’s not above dragging you into the nearest alleyway and teaching you a lesson. 

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

When you’re being kind of a brat, he wants to teach you a lesson. If you wear a cute little outfit in front of other people and he notices others looking at you, he’ll definitely want to remind you who you belong to. The thought of having kids with you gets him going pretty easily too. 

Deep down, Madara is kind of touch starved as fuck. If you show him any kind of affection, he will absolutely be weak. He won’t admit it, of course. The softer the affection the more it turns him on. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

There’s not a lot that Madara wouldn’t do. Just like everyone, he has his limits. He wouldn’t be into ageplay, scat, or piss. He might get turned on by a bit of pain and seeing you cry when he’s overstimulating you, but he would never want to actually harm you in any way. 

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

He doesn’t actually have much of a preference. He enjoys both equally for different reasons. You having your mouth wrapped around his cock while he guides you and fucks your face is amazing. 

However, he also loves going down on you. He’s very good at it and can have you tinkering on the edge of climax in minutes. He loves the control he has over you in that moment. The way you tug on his hair and beg him to let you cum. He could stay between your thighs like that for hours. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He can switch the pace up pretty easily. It just depends on his mood. Sometimes he wants to be rough with you and have you begging for him to give you a break. Other times he just wants to take his time to kiss you all over and fuck you slowly. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He’s very open to quickies, and it is a pretty common occurrence in your relationship. When Madara wants you, he wants you as soon as possible and wherever you can find privacy. He’s not picky about that. 

Especially if he gets jealous. He has to have you as soon as possible to remind you (and kind of himself) that you’re his.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He is absolutely game to experiment and take risks. (Especially if that risk could involve getting caught by Hashirama and him maybe joining.)

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can last as long as he wants. Madara is very good with edging himself and has a lot of self-control during sex. He is able to go at least three rounds if he wants. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Cuffs, ropes, blindfolds. Maybe a gag, but he won’t use it much because he likes hearing you beg. Maybe if you’re being too mouthy. 

He’d much rather be the one using them, but if you play your cards right you might be able to finesse your way into using them on him. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Madara is the biggest fucking tease in the whole world. He just loves hearing you beg and the more desperate you are (especially if you cry) the more he enjoys it. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He is pretty loud. Letting his moans of pleasure come out without much regard for if anyone might hear him. He also talks a lot during sex, and the things he’ll say will be inconsistent. One moment he’s telling you what a desperate little slut you are and then the next thing that falls out of his mouth is that you’re a good girl taking his cock so well. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Madara really just loves boobs a lot. After sex he’ll often want to snuggle up against you and put his head on your chest. During foreplay, he’ll spend a lot of time kissing and massaging them. He’ll tease your nipples with his mouth. He just really loves boobs, and he doesn’t even care about the size. Big tits, small tits, tits somewhere in between. They’re all good to Madara. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Madara has a pretty big cock. Around 8 ½ inches and super thick. If you’re not super experienced beforehand, he’ll definitely have to ease it into you. 

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

Madara has a super high sex drive, especially when things get serious enough for the possibility of having kids to come into the mix. He’s a little prideful, so he won’t admit how often he yearns for you. But he definitely does. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn’t tend to fall asleep super easily after sex. In general, he doesn’t sleep much. So he’ll probably lay beside you for a long time just listening to you breathe or the two of you talking nonsense until you fall asleep.

A/N: Thank you for the request!

[the-kings-of-games]

GET TO KNOW MY SHIP OT3 Edition: Kizunashipping

Character Profiles:

Jack Atlas - 20, blond, 6'3"/190 cm (manga height), oldest brother, no nicknames ("I'm not a mind reader, but Jack refers to himself as king in his head." ��Yūsei)

Crow Hogan - 18, ginger, 5'7"/170 cm, youngest brother, no nicknames ("Crow-sama doesn't count if you're the only one who uses it. Just stick with bird." —Jack)

Yūsei Fudō - 19, raven with orange highlights, 5'8"/173 cm, middle child, no nicknames ("I think of Yūsei as a crab. It's the hair." —Crow)

How it happened: takes up the entire scale

When they first met as kids, Jack assumed Crow got bullied a lot for being small, Crow said the kid equivalent of "fuck off," and Yūsei invited him to duel. It was a tense two seconds of a first impression, but it ended very well and the three became thick as thieves. Over time, as they grew up, they got even closer, calling each other brothers and friends, a relationship that started immediately but also took the time to strengthen and become deeper. It was both intentional and unintentional at the same time as they did wanted to stay together but didn't expect it to ended the way it did. ❤️

Relationship attitude: as casual as they are dedicated, affections leaning on PDA

Kizuna is very casual about their relationship in that they don't have the need to tell the whole world, and they really enjoy small and rather private intimacy together. Crow is the most public about touching with Yūsei the most subtle ("reserved"). Jack is closer to Yūsei's level of public affections.

Crow loves being held and isn't embarrassed about being carried when he feels playful, asking for quick kisses when he feels like it. Yūsei is the type to do lingering touches, placing his hand on his friends' skin and taking them by the hand to lace their fingers, or just to squeeze, and he adores quiet, lazy moments in bed. Jack likes to hold his brothers, whether it's Crow on his lap or Yūsei lying on top of him. He likes feeling their weight against him and never complains about being used like a pillow or a stuffed animal.

Their dedication to each other is that they love each other and will always come at a time of need, but they understand each other's boundries and that each one of them is his own person. They never talked about having a physical or romantic relationship with other people, but they haven't really thought about it either. They're content with what they have, finding both family and friendship in each other.

Misadventures: depending on the situation, any one of them is getting them out of trouble and/or into trouble. How they do it differs from person to person.

Overall, Kizuna doesn't try to get into trouble on purpose, only when they have to or are asked to. Usually, Crow is told about it and faces it head on, Jack finds it accidentally, and Yūsei just has trouble following him. It can be a mess sometimes, but one of them is always there to bail the other two out; other times, it's two of them bailing one out. The trouble might not involve all of them, but at the end of the day, they'll all see it to the end one way or anyone.

Handling conflict: slow to forgive if someone else messes up badly, arguements are mostly Squabble

The arguments are mostly kept between them, Yūsei on the sideline. Crow is always telling Jack to pick up the slack, and Jack can't keep a job. They clash because of this, but serious fights rarely occur as this echoes a lot of their arguments as kids. Crow might get mad at Jack in the morning, but he's always happy to have Jack come home at night. Yūsei keeps out of these things because he already knows Jack won't change and Crow is stubborn. He almost never upsets Jack or Crow to the extent that they upset each other because he pulls off the best disappointed expression and they lose their steam quickly.

However, on the other, if someone else upsets or hurts one of them, they're all up in arms, ready to throw dukes cards. They are good duelists who also know how to use their fists. Yūsei tries to be reasonable most of the time, but he can and will hold a grudge, seeking some sort of retribution. Jack's a bit more vocal, using his tongue to make people back off while staring them down. Crow's the one who tries to work things out, but he'll take the bait if it's the right kind. Jack and Crow have the shorter fuses, but Yūsei can be just as slow to forgive.

Budget: Crow mostly takes care of the budget since he's the one with a stable business, and he's very careful about it. Yūsei provides a bit of extra cash with his handyman jobs and makes sure to record everything. Somehow, Jack is still able to purchase his expensive coffee. They are almost always close to being in the red.

Makes decisions: As the family accountant, Crow gets the final say on matters that needs to dip into their budget, ranging from inventory to traveling. All of them are capable of making decisions on their own, but it often comes in full circle.

Plans dates: They don't really go on dates; they just spend a lot of time together, whether it's going out of a ride and a duel or just being in the same room with one another. All they want is each other's company and presence, just like when they were growing up. They all have their own individual rooms for their own privacy, but very rarely would someone say no to spending the night together, or the afternoon, the morning, and the bit of time in between.

Besides, they can't afford to go on any of those popular date plans, there's not enough in their budget.

Cooks: They all cook, to varying degrees. Crow cooks the most, but it's mostly basic meals and to make sure everyone is eating. Yūsei cooks to pick up some responsibility when Crow is doing overtime or can't do it himself. Jack cooks too, but it's a lot of extravagant meals that taste great but isn't exactly the most affordable.

Cleans: They all have their own responsibilities at Poppo Time. (It is the sole reason that Jack doesn't get the boot, lol.) Yūsei handles the garage while Jack makes sure the upstairs floor is kept clean. He also does laundry. (Jack likes to live in a clean environment, so if he must, he'll clean.) Crow handles smaller chores like washing the dishes and buying groceries (since he's likely already out).

First to confess their feelings: Crow! He loves saying, "I love you," even as a kid, and he isn't embarrassed or shy about it. He loves it when Jack and Yūsei say it back.

First to apologize in a fight: Whoever realizes what they did wrong first. They might be stubborn, but they do understand that it's right to apologize when they're wrong or acted terribly. They were raised by a good woman after all.

The best caretaker when the others are sick: Jack! He's the one who can sit still the longest, usually with a book or a magazine, and stay by to see the first signs of discomfort. He has a strong sense of duty when it comes to taking care of his brothers when they're not well. He doesn't baby them (much), but he keeps track of when to do this and that very well. (He's actually good a time management.)

Does most of the speaking: They are all capable of speaking for themselves, but Jack is the one who likes to talk to people the most. He's a people person.

Sensitive to subtle changes in their partners: Yūsei! He's the observant type, even more so than his brothers, and catches things a lot more. He keeps a mental note of them and uses that information later for future use.

The one who proposes: None. They never get married or anything; they don't have the need to do so. It's enough that they chose to be together.

The one who would die to protect the others: This is all of them, but Yūsei would always volunteer first because he's like that.

Hogs the blanket: Crow. :3

Ticklish: "If you know the right spots, you can turn grumpy Jack and Yūsei into giggling ones!" —Crow

Good kisser: They all are, but Crow has the reputation. ;)

Irresponsible one: Depends. Jack's irresponsible for not being able to keep a stable job. Yūsei loses track of time a lot when working on the runners and forget to take care of himself. Crow likes to start shit with his brothers for giggles, already knowing the consequences of his actions.

Crow: . . . [hiccups]

Akiza: . . . Are you crying?

Crow: [hiccups] Yeah.

Akiza: Did you annoy Yūsei again?

Crow: Yeah. [sniffles]

.

Akiza: Did you learn anything this time?

Crow: . . . Never.

.

.

Here are a few of my Kizuna fics!:

Story of Old, rated T

Taking Care of Crow, rated G

Unbreakable Bonds, rated G

School Days, rated T

[talesfromthefade]

Eloise Trevelyan x Cullen Rutherford (Pre-Track Down Samson), for @dadrunkwriting & @siofrasongs

Lesser offenses. Lesser offenses than writing and asking a Templar to deliver love letters? Eloise’ head spins as she swallows, fighting the wave of bile rising in the back of her throat. He’s speaking of it all so casually, so removed from it all. Meredith was his commander, yes, but he was hardly a recruit. He was her second-in-command. Knight-Captain Cullen. He could have said something, done something… couldn’t he? She heard the stories about Kirkwall and the kind of reception the mages endured there. They all had, especially as tensions rose to a boil and talk of mage rights and freedom from the Circles began in earnest. She knows Cullen was a Templar, that he had come from Kirkwall, and didn’t really like to talk about what happened there. She’s known nearly since the start, but just now, thinking of Maddox, of all the other mages in Kirkwall like him, the countless others made tranquil or simply cut down for the inconvenience of existing, for trying to have the same kind of life or happiness as anyone without magic… It might have been her. Trembling fingers reach reflexively to the scars across her cheek strategically hidden behind her curls. She’d forgotten. Made herself forget, as surely as Cole does when he “helps.” She locks her knees as they threaten to give out beneath her, torn between her growing feelings and a sense of unfamiliarity, confusion and renewed fear of the man in front of her.

He wants to start over. He’s taken himself off Lyrium despite the risks, he’s maintained professionalism and peace between the former Templars in their ranks and the newly recruited and free mages, and… And he cares about her. She knows he does. He’s said as much, although they’ve not made any specific declarations of love or talked about the future yet. Cullen isn’t the man he was in Kirkwall. But the reminder of his past and how much of his attitude towards mages and Templars is a work-in-progress, inevitably tainted by his more traumatic experiences is jarring. She’d dared to hope… And therein lay her mistake. She does her best to make a mask of her emotions but knows when he suddenly stops, turning to her with a look of concern she mustn’t be doing a very good job of it.

He doesn’t know. She’d left out the spirit that possessed her- that saved her life- when her circle fell when she first began opening up to him. Caution and fear got the better of her. In the face of this… it seems this was for the best, prudent, but she can’t imagine any way of telling him now that would be any easier, any more palatable for him. Cullen reaches out for her, but she takes a subtle step back with a shake of her head. He can’t touch her now. He can’t want her now, wouldn’t if he knew the truth of what she is.

“Ellie?” The familiarity of her name on his lips and concern in his eyes makes her heart ache.

“I-” she chokes softly, throat seeming to seize up with emotion as her eyes water. She swallows, wills back the tears, and straightens, a mask of neutrality and professionalism she’s worked impossibly hard to cultivate for the sake of the Inquisition falling over her. “I apologize,” she manages, voice far more calm and controlled than she actually feels. A hand clenches to avoid shaking, nails biting into her palm with the effort. “I will be ready to move with you and the soldiers within the hour,” she nods.

“El-” he begins again, but Eloise cuts him off.

“I’m fine. I’ll be ready soon, we cannot afford to let Samson get away from us now.”

She’s far from fine. She almost doesn’t bring Cole out of concern for the ‘hurt’ she’ll be subjecting her friend to, but he materializes at the stables just as she’s readying Brandy for the journey and Eloise can’t find it in her to send him away. Dorian while unaware of the specifics, is far too sharp not to pick up on there being something between the two of them, and blessedly takes on the role of riding beside and keeping Cullen engaged in conversation to avoid any further awkward unpleasantness. With the presence of some soldiers and their companions, any opportunities for solitude and intimacy are few, but it’s impossible by the second evening to pretend things are as they have been and Cullen seems to give up any pretense, or concerns for their privacy, catching her at the fireside as the rest of their companions begin turning in for the night.

“El-” he hesitates cutting himself off, as if uncertain now, whether he’s permitted to be familiar with her now.

“What if that had been me? If I’d been caught asking a Templar to deliver letters for me,” Eloise asks before she can think better of it or lose her nerve. She wouldn’t have. Even in her later years in her time with the Circle, she’d always been too scared to break any real rules. Still, the question has haunted her. Does he still feel such a punishment was somehow just? What might he feel or do if he knew what she was?

Cullen’s mouth shuts immediately, jaw tensing for a moment as he swallows. “I don’t want to think about it. I can’t, I-”

“I can’t not.”

“I wouldn’t have contested it,” Cullen admits finally, though he can scarcely look at her while he does so. “I would not have allowed myself to become so close, to get to know you, then. It was easier that way.” Eloise nods, swallowing down tears. He isn’t saying anything she didn’t already suspect, probably know, but tried not to think about. “I stood with Hawke against Meredith in the end, but I won’t pretend I don’t have any regrets about how long it took me to do so or the things I did then in the name of fear and following orders.”

“And now?”

“I would stand down Corypheus myself if I didn’t know it had to be you. I would stand between you and anyone that wishes you harm.” Eloise nods, swallowing once more, but knows as he looks at her she’s failed to hide that his words don’t entirely comfort her.

“And the other mages? Another mage, like me? One you don’t know?” Cullen nods, hand twitching for a moment as if he’s considering reaching out to touch her before he pulls himself back.

“Once I couldn’t imagine a better calling than to protect those in need. When I first started practicing, started begging the Templars at the local Chantry to let me join them, that included mages. I… I lost sight of that. The decisions and actions I took in the wake of that- there’s few that I’m proud of. I-  I won’t pretend I am not still learning. Un-learning some of the things I was taught or came to believe, but you should never have had to fight for the right to make a life, to find a sense of purpose, or happiness just because you have magic. No one should. Mage or not.” She doesn’t bother fighting back the tears any longer, letting them fall freely down her cheeks. “I’ll admit having no Circles or structure in place makes me nervous, but I am beginning to understand why the mages rebelled. Please,” he entreats, unable to keep himself from reaching out and clasping her hands in his own any longer, “I hate this. I miss you. I miss us. Tell me what I need to do to fix this, and I’ll do it.”

“I don’t know,” Eloise admits tearfully with a shake of her head, finally allowing herself to fall forward into his arms, and wrap herself around him. It’s probably not fair to hold his past against him, a past she wasn’t even a part of, but neither can she entirely dismiss the way that knowledge makes her feel. “Talking about it like this seems like a good place to start.” Cullen nods, carefully wrapping his arms a little more securely around her when she doesn’t push him away. “Cullen, I-”

“Yes?”

“What if I’m too soft for this?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, Samson is working for Corypheus. The things he’s doing to the Templars, it’s unspeakable. Inexcusable.”

“But?”

“But I feel sorry for him. Not enough to forget or simply pardon what he’s done,” she adds quickly when his mouth thins ever so slightly at her pronouncement. “We owe the people he’s hurt better than that, but…” But I can’t help but think in another world, if things had gone differently, he might have been you, she thinks, but Eloise bites her tongue, shaking her head. “You knew him better than I ever will,” she concedes. “But he was delivering letters. It just hardly seems fair that he’d be stripped of everything he was for something as little as that.” Not when there were Templars committing much greater more heinous abuses to mages and Templars the Chantry was perfectly content to ignore. “No title. No Lyrium. He was an addict. The Order and Chantry failed him. Corypheus was in the right place at the right time and smart enough to take advantage of that. It would be easier to think of him in black and white,” she envies him that sometimes. “But I can’t. I can’t not see the bigger picture, and I don’t want to harden myself like that. Not even for him, even with all he’s done. I feel like that’s how Corypheus wins. Making us a little less ourselves and a little more like him, in inches.”

She swallows, waiting. She waits for him to push her away. To condemn her for what she already knows, that she is the worst person to lead all of them. He draws her closer, pressing a tender kiss to her crown before tucking her head under his chin instead.

“I know,” he reassures her, the words a whisper into her hair, as she shudders softly against him in relief. “I love that about you. Perhaps it is difficult for me to see it with Samson, but it would be terribly hypocritical of me to disapprove or wish to change a heart big enough to see past my own mistakes.” She hears his slight smile, the ones he saves just for her, that tug at that scar on his upper lip, feels it against her hair as she snuggles closer into his chest.

She’ll tell him. Everything. Not now. They can’t afford to be distracted while they’re closing in on Samson. But soon. He deserves to know. And maybe, just maybe, they can survive it.

“I love you too,” she answers softly.

[jeonggukingdom]

Jin + 12 and 14 for the drabble game pleaaaase :D

[ ˌdɛsɪˈdɪərɪəm ]noun; a powerful desire or yearning.

Prompt: “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you moan… It was like a fucking melody.” + “I know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that.“Pairing: Seokjin x ReaderGenre: SmutCount: 2.708 words 

warnings: graphic depictions of sexual intercourse, dirty talk, car sex, oral sex

The charcoal bitumen shines under the moon gaze, the street lamps sketching deep shadows on its surface that usually look somewhat ominous to you but, tonight in the silent of the car with your lover sitting right next to you, they almost look relaxing and comforting.

You sigh in contentment as you think about the three days that await you in the countryside: a little house next to the sea, the quietness of the beach in the midst of winter and the perspective of being just the two of you for the entire stay.

You tilt your head to the side and fix your gaze upon his porcelain face and the little smile painted on his lips ever since you started the little trip.The moonlight makes his skin look almost as silvery as its own surface - his onyx eyes shine with pure bliss as he looks at you for a moment before concentrating back on the empty road ahead.

“You can take a nap if you want to,” he says, his voice covered in honey, “I’ll wake you up when we’re there.”

You smile and hum in response but, to your surprise, sleep doesn’t come easily and not because you’re not tired but because you’re simply too excited and, also, because you don’t want to miss a single moment of your trip together.

You’ve been dating for about six months now and the times you got to spend really alone can be counted on one hand. The lack of intimacy and privacy were starting to become a problem, and you were positive the origin behind this very trip was his equal need to feel you close to him.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks after a while, his smile widening almost like he was expecting this outcome.

“I’m not really sleepy.”

He hums in response and tilts his head a bit towards your side like he usually does when he’s intently thinking about something.

You almost expect him to voice his thoughts out loud but the silence fills the vehicle and you’re on the verge of asking him, out of utter curiosity, when his free hand lands on your exposed thigh and squeezes the muscle in a gentle yet very explicit manner.

You’d been lying if you’d say you didn’t wear this skirt for the sole purpose of taunting him but it still came as a surprise the audacity of the movement that came without so much as a warning.

Slowly, his hand moves upwards, taking the soft fabric of your pink pastel skirt up with it and, before you know it, his fingers are slowly playing with the hem of your flimsy underwear.

He looks at you with a devilish smirk and you squeeze your legs shut as a wave of excitement rushes through your body.

“Open your legs,” he orders in a murmur, his eyes fixed ahead as if he didn’t just casually asked you to concede yourself to him.

You do, ultimately, comply because - to be completely honest - you’ve been wanting his hands all over your body for quite sometimes now.

“Panties aside, you little temptress,” he traps his bottom lip in his teeth as his gaze intensifies whilst studying your exposed legs, and keeping an eye on the street for all possible dangers, “I’ll make you feel good.”

You’re surprised to find your body trembling with anticipation as one of your hands hooks the hem of your underwear to give him free access to your sex, just like he has asked.

Seokjin’s hand finds its place back on your inner thigh and slowly glides up until it can meet the hot flesh of your external labia, his fingers quick to find your clitoris and rub it in slow and soothing circles that immediately make your muscles relax against the seat and your stomach fill with pleasured contentment.

His fingers caress you deeply, stirring pleasure inside your stomach, titillating you enough to start becoming needy very quickly.

As you take a shaky breath, he slides his fingers down your slit and hums when he finds it already coated in your juice; his guttural sound sending shivers down your spine.

He teases your entrance with slow touches that make you whimper and squirm in need, seeking for the relief his hands promise to provide.

“I wish I could taste you right now,” he softly declares, his eyes quickly glancing at you - the sweat on your forehead, the quick heaving of your chest, the little rocking of your hips as you seek more friction out of his slender fingers - a wicked smile on his lips.

You whimper in response and find yourself almost wishing he’d stop driving right this instant to fuck you senseless in the confinement of his car.

He rubs your clitoris for some more minutes in utter silence, drinking every little sound you make as his foot pushes further into the accelerator to eat out the miles that separate you from your destination.

You close your eyes in pure bliss as your stomach pleasurably contracts and your back arches to meet his touch and, right in that moment,  he slides a finger inside of you, pushing ever so slowly against your walls and finding the way already paved by the excitement that is starting to drip down your thighs.

He smirks as another finger enters you, quickly followed by another and your eyes roll back as soon as he curls them inside of you, a soft moan escaping your control as he does so.

He moves his fingers with expert ease, the movements still extremely slow to drive you all the more crazy and make you buckle your hips in a vain attempt to fuck yourself on top of his hand.

“My little temptress is quite eager,” he hums with a hint of mockery in his voice.

“Please,” you whimper, almost irrationally, and you find that to be exactly what he wanted all along for all it takes is for you to whisper that simple plea and he picks up the pace you need to reach your peak point.

His fingers produce a lewd sound as they move in and out of your coated sex, the curling movements of his fingers becoming almost unbearable, so much so you find yourself gripping his wrist in both the need for him to stop and to keep on pressing in.

Your breathing gets shallow and your whimpers transform in moans, each one louder than before.

The pleasure coils down in your abdomen and your legs start to quiver as the orgasm starts turning everything white.

For a while, you’re not sure whether the scream you heard was all in your head or it actually came from you the moment your pleasure got released, it is only when his hand leaves your sex and you collapse on the seat that you take a moment to realize what just happened.

You had always been somewhat private when it came down to sex and a life spent in apartments with very thin walls had soon developed in you a fear to be heard - which ultimately lead to your incapability to let go and scream out your pleasure.

This night, though, you had let him take you in a moving car, without caring about the fact that someone could possibly see you and, sure enough, you had let go about all resolves about being quiet.

It takes a few minutes for your breath to slow down and for your vision to become clear again so, you’re utterly surprised when the car comes to a stop in an empty parking lot next to a small house.

“Is this…?” your questions gets eaten by the car’s door closing behind his back and before you can even process what is going on, you find yourself being lifted from your seat.

“Wh-?”

His lips take your own forcefully, his tongue quickly enveloping your own as his hands rest on your ass, your legs automatically encircling around him for better support.

All questions die down as he keeps kissing you with all this bottled up passion and you’re not sure yourself how he managed to walk you two to the door and even open it whilst never leaving your mouth.

The door closes shut behind you and your feet touch the ground again as he traps you between the wooden surface and his own body.

“Seokjin,” you whimper as his hand finds its way back inside your already ruined underwear, his digits pressing hard against your clitoris.

“I think that was the first time I ever heard you moan…” he whispers in your ear, his lips sucking hard on your neck, “It was like a fucking melody.”His body presses against yours and that’s when you feel his erection against your thigh - a clear sign of how much his little game has affected him too.

“I want to hear it again.” He grunts in your ear as one of his fingers slowly enters your coated sex, stretching your walls oh-so-sweetly.

His free hand grabs your ass not so delicately, pushing your hips towards his hand that is back to working wonders inside of you, your skirt lifting up to your stomach in the process.

“Get the sweater off,” he orders, his hot breath against your neck.

For the second time that night you obey without so much as a protest and you’re rewarded with the shaky breath he takes in full countenance.

The straps of your laced white bralette slide down on your shoulders as he completely undresses your chest for his mouth to lovingly devour your breasts, your nipples and everything in between.

Quickly, the half-lit house fills with soft whimpers coming from your trembling body, the pleasure almost unbearable as you feel yourself getting lost in a haze of wild thoughts and desperate needs.His hand leaves your dripping core without a notice and your walls contract seeking the heavenly friction it was providing - your eyes open as you whine in protest.

“You look so breathtakingly fucked.”

The husky tone of his voice, the way his eyes glint as he takes you in whilst he steps back to rejoice in what he has made of you, makes your stomach contract almost painfully.

You can only imagine how you must look like right now: half naked, your skirt past your belly button, the sweat shining on your skin as you breathe hard against the door - the only thing still keeping you standing - the flushed red color of your cheeks and the desperate need reflected in your own pupils.

“Not fucked enough,” you daringly reply whilst getting rid of your skirt and your underwear; your steps slow as you reduce the distance he just put between your bodies.

Your hands run up his chest and quickly unbutton his white shirt, your eyes focused in his as he lets you undress him quietly.

Only when he’s completely naked you take your time to marvel at his body: his perfect skin, the muscles on his arms, the wideness of his shoulders, his firm abdomen and, further more, the evident erection between his toned legs.

He takes your hand and guides you to the black couch behind his back to sit down with his legs spread wide for you.

“Come here, my wicked temptress.”

You follow his lead and open your legs to sit on top of him but his hands trap your hips to prevent you from doing so.

“Turn around.”

You’re about to protest, being able to look in his eyes as you reach your pleasure being one of your favorite things but, his next words are enough to convince you otherwise.

“I’ll make you come harder than you ever did before.”

You turn your back to him and, aligning with his member, you slowly bend your legs until you can feel the tip of his dick stroking your external labia.

You take your time in taking him in, inch by inch until you’re whimpering at the sweet stretch he provides as you completely fit him inside of you.

He starts rocking his hips against you and it doesn’t take long for you to catch on why he wanted you exactly like this: his lips attack your neck almost immediately, his teeth grazing the skin every once in a while, his tongue licking off the pain and teasing your ear; one of his hands on your breast, his fingers tantalizing the already turgid nipple.

A moan escapes your control as he starts picking up the pace, his kisses on your neck getting messy and a bit sloppy as his pleasure builds up with your own.

“Now, now.” He huskily whispers right in your ear, “I know for a fact you can scream a hell of a lot louder than that, princess.”

You helplessly whimper in response to his words, your hips trying to match his pace in a poor attempt to reach your orgasm faster.

The hand that was resting on your hip to keep you in place slowly glides against your stomach, his fingers delicately stroking your skin - a deep contrast with the pace he has set between your legs - and you yelp in surprise as a moment later, he presses them against your clitoris.

Your breath gets caught in your lungs as he keeps rubbing on the bundle of nerves, his movements picking up speed to match the one of his hips, and you’re at a loss for words at how heavenly and utterly overwhelming it feels to be loved in every way possible.

“I’m gonna…” you gulp down heavily, your sentence left unfinished by the sudden hit of pure pleasure that takes your whole body and turns it into a trembling mess.

“Don’t stop,” you whimper as he pushes harder inside you, your juices coating his member, his fingers, your thighs and, almost certainly, even the couch.

“Yes,” you scream as he hits that perfect spot that is sure to send you up to cloud nine.

“Yes, yes, yes.”  The loud moan that escapes your lips is nothing you ever experienced before and neither is the utter bliss that turns your vision white and your body into jelly.

“W-wait…” you whisper before he can cum inside of you, your hands searching for his hips so he can slow down his pace.

You lift yourself up and turn around to face him: his hair looks a complete mess and so does his face as the lust eats up every sweet corner of his features.

You drop on your knees and without a warning you completely engulf him in your mouth, his deep moan firing up the boldness inside of you.

Your eyes fix on his own and you start bobbing your head up and down, hollowing your cheeks whenever you can see his abdomen contract and it doesn’t take long for his cum to hit the back of your throat.

“Sweet lord,” he exhales loudly as you drink up every little drop he had to offer. “I love you so fucking much,” he whispers against your lips as soon as you sit on top of him, your legs on each side of his.

The kiss that comes after is a bit lazy yet still laced with that consuming, burning, passion that led to this very moment and, you’re sure, this is nothing but the beginning of a long, long night.        

Copyright © 2017 by jeonggukingdom. All rights reserved. 

[astrob4by]

Aspects in my Natal Chart

Hey guys, this post is a description of the aspects in my natal chart, and it’s sort of a reference for my self. However, please look at this and see if any of your aspects are the same as mine! Obviously the intensity at which you feel the aspects in your chart depends on your own chart as a whole, so if you want help analyzing the aspects in your chart, please send them into me! I find aspects really interesting and they tell you a lot about you!

Sun ◻square Moon ; Struggles to differentiate between want and need, felt unneeded/out of place (particularly in childhood), struggles between need for support and need for autonomy (craves independence but feels alone when they get it, craves support but feels trapped when they receive it)

Sun ☌conjunction Mercury ; Good with communication, despite finding it difficult to listen to people at times. Struggles to absorb information from listening to people (easier to read), strong opinions and can get hurt if they are ignored or attacked.

Sun ⚹sextile Saturn ; Trustworthy, when needed can be very organised and steadily reaches goals, loyal to the people they care about.

Sun ◻square Pluto ; Prone to negative/self-destructive behaviour, dissatisfied with self, need to control their life/image so undergoes many identity crises, need privacy and people may distrust them bc of this, manipulative, attracts dangerous situations.

Moon ◻square Mercury ; Conflict between head and heart, chatty, witty, imaginative humour, easy to tell mood by the amount they talk, moody/sensitive, indecisive, funny/charming

Moon ⚹sextile Venus ; Naturally friendly/warm, sympathetic, need for intimacy, typically feminine, lazy/overindulgent, diplomatic/peacemaker.

Moon △trine Mars ; Passionate, intense emotions (however, can control them well), sexual (open in sexual expression), honest,

Moon ⚹sextile Uranus ; Accepting of people, casual/spontaneous, friendly, likes the unusual, humanitarian

Moon ☌conjunction Pluto ; Intense emotions, impressionable, understanding, love-hate relationship with mother (need for independence from her), fear of rejection/abandonment, overwhelming sensuality.

Moon △trine Ascendant ; Imaginative, warm/friendly, adaptable, easy to work with others, people feel at ease with you, likes travelling.

Mercury ⚹sextile Saturn ; Trustworthy/reliable, loyal, consider consequences, doubting of situations/people, organised when needed.

Mercury ◻square Pluto ; Suspicious/paranoid, curious (particularly about the taboo), love debating, strong opinions.

Venus ⚹sextile Mars ; Charming, enthusiastic, embraces flaws, very creative (needs encouragement from others to use it), athletic (needs encouragement to use it), romantic.  

Venus ◻square Saturn ; Difficulty giving/receiving love, fears rejection, manipulative, either downplay/pay a lot of attention to physical appearance, attracted to older people, cautious about becoming close to people.

Venus ☌conjunction Uranus ; Very magnetic, values friendship, distaste regarding marriage, noncommittal, want to be different, open minded, argumentative, accepting, original style, values freedom, spontaneous, easily aroused (sexually), fall in/out of love quickly.

Venus ☌conjunction Neptune ; Sensitive, attractive, impractical, giving, forgive easily, prone to people taking advantage, hurt easily, very imaginative, mysterious/seductive, spend more time fantasizing about situations then making them happen, idealistic,

Venus ⚹sextile Pluto ; Observer, resourceful, persuasive, charismatic, magnetic, may use attractiveness to manipulate.

Venus ☍opposition Ascendant ; Very social, needs acceptance, seems independent but needs support, often play innocent as not to seem threatening, shy in presence of people of importance, need to hide bad qualities, charming yet manipulative.  

Mars △trine Pluto ; Passionate, stubborn once committed, confident, resourceful, avoider of confrontation.

Mars △trine Ascendant ; Enthusiastic, restless, strong opinions, innocent/naive seeming, values independance, sexual, high energy.

Jupiter ☌conjunction Saturn ; Practical dreams, take time to achieve goals, underestimate situations, proud.

Jupiter ◻square Neptune ; Relies on dreaming (often to escape real world), lacks self discipline/concentration, generous, gullible/naive, often plays victim, financially irresponsible.

Saturn ◻square Uranus ; Dislikes change, indecisive (due to dislike of change), bossy.

Saturn ◻square Ascendant ; Afraid of opposition, cautious, self doubting,

Uranus ☍opposition Ascendant ; Attracted to ‘rebellious’ people, noncommittal, dislikes marriage, doesn’t like rules, rebellious at home, irresponsible, unmotivated, political, upset when denied freedom.

Pluto △trine Ascendant ; Energetic, creative, confident, knowing of own worth.

So yeah! Please send in an ask if you need help ‘decoding’ your aspects and please let me know if you have any of these in your chart! Hope this is interesting/helpful!

[ladyjstruth-blog]

Quatre & Trowa Spend an Evening at a Carnival (Excerpt from Back to Reality)

Already it was near dusk by the time they were walking along the harbor pier that hosted a small Carnival year round. The bright lights were on, crazy carnival noises and local radio broadcasts carried across the pier from many of the attractions.

The two walked in between rows of game tents while avoiding crashing into children as the little urchins ran headlong through the crowd. Trowa's sudden change in behavior seemed to have been something of a dream like it had never happened and Quatre was munching contentedly on a bag of cotton candy (it was his second) while Trowa held a large stuffed panda bear that he'd won at a shooting booth. Trowa smiled at Quatre's love for sweets.

"You have such a sweet tooth." He commented casually, glancing down at the smaller youth.

The blonde smiled and shrugged, pulling out a small handful of the fluffy pink stuff. "I've got a good dentist," he replied offhandedly. His quip answer provoked a deep chuckle from the tall acrobat, causing Quatre to falter a step. The sound almost made him melt. He recovered quickly though and Trowa didn't seem to notice.

Relief washed over the young multi-millionaire. He could handle executives and siblings hounding him about WEI on top of his school work, during exams no less, but he wasn't sure he could handle Trowa's reaction to Quatre spilling his guts about his feelings toward him.

Especially when the blonde got the impression that Trowa wasn't exactly batting for his team, so to speak.

As much as Quatre was attracted to his former comrade in arms, he was too afraid of ruining their friendship to say anything. The last thing he wanted was to scare off the one person he wanted to get closest to for something that might not even work.

Trowa's voice cut sharply into Quatre's internal dilemma.

"Quatre, want to go take the ferry around the harbor?" The taller boy was looking at him expectantly and Quatre figured it hadn't been the first time he'd been asked that question.

"Oh, yeah…sure," replied the blonde as he hurriedly finished the last of the cotton candy, throwing the bag away as they stepped onto the ferry boat. The crowd was fairly large already and the air inside the enclosed area of the boat was too stifling, so Trowa led the way out onto the open deck.

They stopped near the railing, Quatre allowing his school bag to drop to the floor unceremoniously at his feet, leaning with his forearms on the rail. He looked into the gloomy black waves of the water as they pulled away from the dock, allowing them to take his thoughts with them.

Trowa stood, straight and erect with his hands in his pockets, panda bear resting against his leg, and taking in the colorful lights of the harbor. His eyes soon drifted over to the blonde by his side only a few feet away. He couldn't help but enjoy the view.

Quatre was turning into a very naturally attractive young man. He felt the urge to run his hand through that beautiful golden blonde hair, gently trail his fingers down Quatre's neck, whisper sweet nothings in his ear while his hands slipped down across his back sending ripples of pleasure across the younger boy's body, and lower to his waist, and then continuing even lower…

Trowa was startled, as much as the usually composed ex-Gundam pilot could be anyway, out of his less than innocent thoughts about his friend by a question spoken so softly he almost didn't catch it. "When will you leave?" asked the blonde, looking up at Trowa, searching for an answer he knew wouldn't be there.

The brunette shrugged, not picking up on the hidden meaning underneath the simple question. "A week, maybe longer if we do well enough." He watched as Quatre casually turned around, leaning his back against the rail, stuffing his hands in his pockets and gazing up at the few stars that weren't obscured by the bright lights of the city. The blonde closed his eyes and sighed, causing a guilty knot to form in Trowa’s stomach. "Not long enough is it?" he asked.

Quatre shook his head. "It wouldn't be nearly so bad, you know, if you would write or call or…something, every once in awhile," Quatre accused with a bit more vehemence than he had intended.

"Duo and Wufei at least contact me once in awhile and I talk to Relena enough to know what Heero's up to...As much as you're allowed to know what he's up to anyway. But I don't hear a word from you until you show up out of the blue. Not one, Trowa." Quatre looked over his shoulder to meet Trowa's eyes with his own. "What's up with that? I thought we were closer than that," he finished quietly, fighting desperately to keep the tears from welling up in his eyes and the pathetic quiver out of his voice. He was suddenly very angry with Trowa and also very hurt, but he didn't want to collapse into a blubbering mess in front of the guy.

Trowa didn't react, just met Quatre's gaze coldly. The brunette saw the tears in his eyes threatening to get the better of his friend and the knowledge that he was the cause pained him. He knew he owed Quatre a better explanation than he could give. There wasn't any good reason Trowa was willing to admit to that kept him from making contact with him up until today, so he kept silent. He saw a flash of anger in those vibrant blue eyes, and then an expression of defeat as Quatre dropped his head to stare dejectedly at the deck.

Quatre blinked the tears away and waited until he trusted his voice before changing the subject. "How'd you find me anyway?" he asked curiously. Any hint of anger or pain was gone from his voice, replaced by faint curiosity. "I mean, it's not exactly like I announced what school I was attending and Wilmington has a very strict code on privacy for exactly that reason".

"I hacked into all of the private schools' databases in the surrounding area until I found you," Trowa replied nonchalantly, looking back out across the water. "It's not like it was hard," he added as an afterthought.

In spite of his annoyance of Trowa's lack of interest in keeping in contact with him, Quatre chuckled at his answer. He should have guessed that that was how he had done it. Just because they didn't necessarily have to hack into places anymore didn't mean that they still couldn't.

"Old habits, I suppose" commented the blonde, looking back up at the sky. The stars made him think of the colonies, which in turn, made him think about the ESUN, followed closely by thoughts of the Republic. "We're going to war again Trowa," he said with a painful finality in his tone.

"It’s highly likely, yes," replied the taller brunette. He turned to face Quatre fully and moved closer to the blonde. The change in personal space brought Quatre's attention from the sky back to Trowa, who was now only inches from him. He felt his throat constrict and it took all of his willpower not to look away from the determined look that he found in the other’s eyes.

"There is a chance though, that the Republic has merely taken up mobile suites because they feel threatened by the ESUN, optimistically speaking anyway. And a large part of me wants to believe that," Trowa continued. "But if the Republic does go to war against the ESUN, I'm ready to fight again. I have no doubt that Relena will ask us for help if it comes to that. But until she does or the Republic declares war, whichever comes first, I'll stay with the circus. I'm not yet willing to leave Cathy for a maybe."

Quatre stared into Trowa's eyes for a moment before looking back over his shoulder at the harbor dock with all its radiant lights edging closer as the ferry boat made its slow trek back to port. "It's a shame," he thought out loud. "I had just gotten used to being a normal high school student. It was nice."

Trowa could see the conflicting feelings raging within his friend. Out of all the pilots, Quatre was one of two who had previously held a relatively normal lifestyle, even if it hadn't exactly been all happy days and sunshine.

The war between Earth and the space colonies that surrounded the Earth which he had so actively participated in, the constant conflict with and eventual death of his pacifist father followed immediately by the death of his sister, and the overall baggage one accumulates during a war had changed him significantly. Hardly normal for a fifteen-year-old, but in spite of such traumatic events he had forged a new life as a civilian quite successfully. Something none of the others had managed to accomplish.

And now, thanks to this new Republic of Eurussia, it was all getting yanked away because Quatre wasn't the type of person to stand aside and watch everything he had worked to achieve get destroyed.

Trowa couldn't imagine how it must feel to the kind hearted seventeen-year-old. Trowa had never been an overly expressive individual and his upbringing amongst mercenaries hadn’t exactly promoted sensitivity. But he could see the confusion, fear, anger, and determination in his friend's eyes. At that moment, all he wanted to do was comfort him. Let him know that despite whatever happened in the future everything would be okay.

Before he realized what he was doing, he had brought a curled index finger underneath Quatre's chin, gently forcing the blonde to look him in the eyes. "Quatre."

Quatre's breath hitched as Trowa tenderly coerced him to meet his gaze. Butterflies made themselves known in his stomach, he felt his heart pound hard against his chest and somewhere in the back of his head he prayed that Trowa couldn't feel his pulse.

Quatre was powerless to do anything other than stare up into those wonderful green eyes. He was also becoming increasingly more aware of how close they were to each other. Just one more step and their bodies would touch.

"Trowa…I..." Quatre started as he made to move closer. The intimacy was lost however when, just as Quatre had moved toward the other pilot, his cell phone rang. Buzzing obnoxiously in his back pocket, Quatre cursed under his breath as he reached to silence the thing. At the same time, he was painfully aware that Trowa had promptly withdrawn his hand, which had felt so comforting to the blonde, and had backed away a few paces.

Returning to his original position, Trowa watched calmly as Quatre fished the offending gadget out of his pocket. Casting the stoic young man a look of apology at the intrusion, he noticed the caller was Rashid.

Cursing again, a little louder this time, Quatre pressed the answer button.

Full story can be found on AO3 at: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9327206/chapters/21135179

[pandirwrites]

Two card game enthusiasts and sworn life-long rivals discover that after playing tag team duels together with their lives on the line and feeling each other's souls in their cards and whatnot, they could maybe also just, like, touch. That’s it. That’s the fic.

I’ve been reading up on touched-starvedness and the importance of physical intimacy, and also realized that Seto and Yami never actually touch in any significant way, so. My entire hand slipped. 

Read on Ao3~

“What's the matter, Kaiba? You don’t seem to be at your best today.” Seto gritted his teeth. It had only been a matter of time until his opponent would read his hand with Seto giving himself away like that, and trust Yugi – the Other Yugi, to be precise, but as far as Seto was concerned, there was only one Yugi that mattered anyway – to see right through him when Seto least wanted him to. They had just finished their fourth round of that silly childish card game Yugi’s friends apparently enjoyed playing - Go Fish, as Yugi had called it while explaining the rules -, and Seto was getting the distinct feeling that it had been a mistake to come here.

But there was no way Seto would ever back away from a challenge, especially not one proposed by his only worthy rival, no matter how pedestrian it might have sounded to be invited ‘to play some card games at Yugi’s place tomorrow at five’. It was not exactly on par with arranging a Duel Monsters tournament so they could face each other in a virtual colosseum on top of sky-scraping tower, and Seto had pointed that out, but it hadn’t deterred the Other Yugi at all.

“Yugi suggested it, and I think it might be a good idea, too. You know, just us and our cards, without anything else being on the line for once.”

There was something to that sentiment of exclusiveness that Seto had found very hard to resist, and when the Other Yugi had added “Besides, I wouldn’t want you to get rusty before your next big tournament” with that cocky smile of his, Seto could not refuse.

So, this was it, the promised private face-off. Just them, sitting on the floor in a high schooler’s room, jacket and coat off for once and nothing but a deck of cards between them. Since Seto had insisted that this wasn’t the right stage for a Duel Monsters match, Yugi had proposed to use ordinary playing cards. Not that the game or the location mattered when it came to Seto’s performance, though he did prefer grander stages than this small, cosy room that was cluttered with game items, toys and a few awkwardly stowed away school utensils to give the illusion of tidiness. And with Yugi as an opponent, even a laughably simple game like Go Fish provided an interesting challenge. So despite this lacklustre setup, each round was nothing short of a duel, even if it was played on a cheap, slightly worn carpet and Seto had to sit with his legs crossed awkwardly so they wouldn’t be in his way.

Still, it was decidedly different from the grand battles in a KC stadium – less intense, maybe, but also closer, quieter. And something about this arrangement, with Yugi sitting right in front of him, so very at ease with Seto’s presence and the privacy of this little room, had slowly started to put him on the edge. It didn’t help at all that even though the game was ridiculously simple, Seto had kept losing spectacularly so far, but what bothered him most was something far more trivial that had become increasingly difficult to ignore. Due to their physical proximity and the nature of the game, Yugi kept touching him for what could be only split seconds while they were exchanging cards. It was entirely accidental, nothing more than their fingers brushing when Seto handed his cards to him, but Seto felt it so distinctly that he at first had almost jerked away from the contact like he had just received an electric shock.

In general, Seto did not appreciate any invasion of his personal space, and usually, everyone around him naturally kept their distance. No one simply approached Seto Kaiba, and no one touched him, especially not without permission. It was as if Yugi was not at all aware that there was a distance to be kept, an invisible line not to be crossed, yet as much as it disconcerted him, Seto found himself unexpectedly captivated by their casual contact. After a few matches, he even started anticipating it each time reached for the card he was handed, drawn to this novel surge of excitement he felt when his fingertips touched Yugi’s skin ever so briefly. Of course, it did not take long for Yugi to notice how preoccupied he was. Seto did not appreciate the look Yugi gave him, intent and searching, as he collected the cards from the carpet to shuffle them for the next round.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”, Seto retorted, and he busied himself with collecting the cards in front of him, coincidentally avoiding Yugi's gaze. There was no reason for his heart to beat so loudly in his chest all of a sudden, like he had been caught, and Seto tried his best to ignore it. “In any case”, he added quickly, deciding that attack was the best defence, “you can’t expect me to gladly waste my time and my skill on a game for children-“ The words got caught in his throat. Instead of taking Seto’s cards, as he was supposed to do, Yugi had decided to idly brush his fingers over Seto’s hand, causing Seto to freeze mid-motion, his pulse still loud in his ears. Of course, Yugi knew exactly how to exploit his slip-up, instinctively going for the exactly right weak points that would make Seto’s defences come undone. “What are you doing?”, Seto snapped, though he did not pull his hand back. After all, that would have been equal to retreating and, what was worse, it would expose his weakness. To his dismay, the anger in his voice left Yugi entirely undeterred and his hand was still resting on Seto’s as he looked up to him. “You know, there’s something I’ve been meaning to find out, Kaiba”, Yugi said, thoughtfully, “Outside of battle, for once.” Seto did not know what had brought this on all of a sudden, but he knew he did not like it one bit. He knew nothing but the thrill of battle, its soaring heights and its crushing lows. What could possibly matter beside that? Anything else was not worth his time, anything else was not something he wanted to concern himself with. But Yugi’s fingers were warm, their gentle touch so foreign, and Seto’s heartbeat faltered when Yugi moved his thumb over the back of his hand in what could be meant as nothing but a caressing gesture. “I don’t think there is much to find out.” No matter how much he tried to keep his composure, Seto could not hide the wavering in his voice entirely, even though he forced the words out as quickly as possible. They were treading unknown territory and he had only very vague suspicions of what Yugi might be aiming at, which was already enough to fill him with unease.

“That's alright”, Yugi said, and there was an earnest gravity in his voice that seemed reserved for talks that had the unnerving tendency to get under Seto’s skin. The openness in his words, however, came as a surprise. “For the longest time, I didn't know much about me, either. There are a lot of things I still don’t know.”

He paused, and a smile spread on his lips as he cocked his head in a way that was so irresistibly challenging. “We could discover some of them together.”

There was something daunting to that proposition, and there was a promise behind it that eased Seto’s rising uncertainty. Maybe this was not that much different from a duel between them – a way to find himself and define himself, the core of who he really was and who he aspired to be. But there were no cards in his hands, no weapon to use in this battle, just another hand on his. In a frustratingly natural, almost casual way, Yugi interlaced his fingers with Seto’s, and the sensation was so strange in its tenderness, it was like a wave of hot water washing over him, leaving shivers in its wake. Unable to handle this sudden helplessness, Seto immediately pulled away to grasp Yugi’s hand instead and hold it in place, desperate not to show how easily Yugi had affected him. Yugi looked at him, slightly surprised, but he did not pull away. As he let Seto hold his hand, there was something appraising in his gaze, just like he had seen right through Seto’s strategy before Seto had even played his cards, and it made Seto nervous in a way he’d never felt before. He was suddenly very aware that his fingers were cold and rigid against Yugi’s skin, but he did not know what else to do, so Seto held Yugi’s hand in the only way he knew how, clasping it as tightly as he could. Clutching the other’s fingers, Seto vaguely remembered an even smaller hand in his, squeezing his fingers so much it hurt. It was something he had almost forgotten, together with the overwhelming feeling of abandonment and anxiousness that could not be erased entirely by the comfort of two hands clinging to each other. It surprised him that he even remembered as much. All of this had been almost a decade ago - it might as well have been part of another life. He had been different back then, small and vulnerable. But even though he was no longer a scared, young boy and very much in control of his own life now, he had held no other hand since and he did not know what else to do. All he knew was that he suddenly found it hard to let go. “Kaiba”, Yugi interrupted his thoughts, and there was something pained in his expression, despite his slightly amused tone, “you don’t have to clasp my fingers like that.” Seto did only release his grip a little bit at that. This was the only means of control he had right now, and he would not relinquish it. “What do you want to me to do, then?”, he asked, warily, but finally able to press forward now that Yugi’s hand was trapped in his grasp and unable to distract him any longer. It was time for Yugi to show his true intentions. “You were the one talking about ‘discovering’ something, though I can’t possibly imagine what you are planning to get out of this, if not trying to humiliate me.“ “Let me show you.” There was a decisiveness in Yugi's eyes that was almost reassuring.

He was not entirely sure if he wanted to find out where this was going, but what he wanted even less was Yugi to believe he, Seto Kaiba, was afraid. So he was determined not to flinch when Yugi leaned forward to close the gap between them, even though he could not prevent his breath hitching when Yugi’s fingers brushed Seto’s wrist to then wander higher up his arm in a careful, measured pace. “How is this?”, Yugi asked, blunt as always, his eyes still on him with unnerving calm. Seto had to grind his teeth to keep himself from biting his lip. His nerves were tingling under Yugi’s fingertips, and even though it was not discomfort he was feeling, it was as if he was strangely unreal under Yugi’s hands. To him, his body was nothing but a faultily constructed platform he needed to exist and interact but that he was not really connected to. As such, he was not meant to be in this situation, to be subjected to this kind of caress that spoke of affection, directed at not just his skin and flesh and bones, but –-him. As he felt the hand on his arm, the gentle pressure of its touch, that was somehow what unsettled Seto most. It was laughable to a degree how much Seto struggled to grasp the reality of another hand on his shoulder, moving over his collarbone to his chest, when at the same time, he felt the path of Yugi’s fingers so distinctly, prickling on his skin even through the fabric of his turtleneck.

Against this slight pressure of Yugi’s hand on his chest, Seto was very aware of his own breathing, of his body working right beneath Yugi’s touch. Had his heartbeat always been this loud and forceful? And when had breathing become so difficult? Yugi’s touch was different from others, not accidental, not meant to intimidate or restrict. It had purpose in a way Seto not quite understood. To Yugi, he was tangible, real, the entirety of him right beneath his skin immediate and exposed to his touch. That realization, as disconcerting as it was, helped Seto focus, though he was not entirely comfortable with being condemned to this passiveness, unable to figure out how to defend himself, assert himself, to do anything but to retreat. “Is this all?”, Seto asked, not as sharply as he would have liked to, but there was a lump in his throat even swallowing did not get rid of. “You really just expect me to sit still and play along with your little game, Yugi?”

“You can touch me, too, if you want to”, Yugi was quick to point out, and Seto was almost pleased to see that there was a hint of uncertainty in the way he frowned. “This is about discovering yourself, after all.” When Yugi pulled his hand back and broke the contact, apparently not so forward anymore, it was as if a spell had been lifted from Seto, and it left him weirdly open and lost. But Seto would not let Yugi back out of his bluff that easily – instead, he caught Yugi’s wrist in a tight grip. It was not that he couldn’t handle Yugi’s touch, and he would prove as much. “Kaiba, let go”, Yugi told him, not as patient anymore, but as he tried to yank his wrist out of Seto’s grip, Seto pulled him closer. His reaction was instinctive, forceful and sudden, but Seto had nothing to go on but a diffuse sense of need and a desire to not let Yugi retreat, not now. Yugi made an indignant sound that was muffled by Seto’s sweater, but he did not really fight it. Now that Seto had him caught in his embrace, it was strange how small he was, with Seto’s long, thin arms wrapped around his slender form. Seto had somehow never considered it, but now, their height difference was not only impossible to ignore, it also made the angle of this embrace rather awkward, but Seto could not care less. All Seto wanted was to hold onto, to not be abandoned but to possess, to relieve whatever strange longing Yugi had stirred up inside of him with nothing but the touch of his fingers, so Seto dug his fingers into the fabric of his black sleeveless shirt at Yugi’s back. “Kaiba…”, Yugi protested, his tone chiding, but astonishingly soft, once he’d managed to incline his head enough to breath. The only good thing about their current situation was that Seto’s face was effectively hidden from Yugi’s view, because the fact that he was clinging to Yugi in a rather ungraceful manner was quickly catching up with him. For some reason, that made his cheek heat up in a most undignified manner. “Kaiba”, the Other Yugi’s voice repeated, a bit more reprimanding this time. With a short exhaling of breath, Yugi let his hands wander up to Seto’s shoulders to push him away, gently but decidedly. “If that is what you have in mind, let’s do it in a more comfortable position.” Seto realized he had effectively backed himself into a corner. Slowly, he let go of Yugi, now both flustered and confused with his face and ears still burning, yet he stubbornly tried not to let that ruin what was left of his composure. Somehow, this was not the same kind of humiliation that came with a crushing defeat - this was a different brand of nervousness that made his palms sweaty and his mouth dry. Seto wasn’t even sure why he felt this way, but most importantly, he did not see how anyone could come out of this and feel like they were winning. In fact, Seto could not remember ever feeling this inadequate when it came to handling a situation, like he was barely more than a clumsy, fumbling teenager and not the prodigious head of a successful company and a top-tier duellist rivalled only by one. “You’ve really done enough already”, Seto managed to get out, his voice strained. Accusations was all he had left to defend himself. “If you want to stop, that’s fine”, Yugi conceded and sat back, a bit awkwardly reaching for the cards again that were still scattered across the carpet. “I really don’t want to push you-”

“That is not what I meant”, Seto interrupted him, sharply. He did not know what he meant, or what he wanted, but he wouldn’t let Yugi back out of this, after he had reduced him to this mess. Yugi should take some responsibility for this particular train wreck. Before he could argue this point, however, Yugi put the cards aside and got up. “If you can’t make up your mind, leave it up to me.”

The Other Yugi’s eyes locked with his as Seto looked up to him, and Yugi offered him his hand. Somehow, Seto was reminded of their tag team duel, when Yugi had asked him to trust him, to rely on him, in order to win. More vividly than anything else, Seto remembered the rush of elation when they had finally obliterated their foes together, their strategies aligning as they had perfectly anticipated each other’s moves. As Yugi pulled him to his feet to lead him to the bed, his hands were resting on Seto’s arms, guiding him, pulling him with him when Yugi reclined against the bedrest, and Seto found it not as hard as he had expected to follow his lead, at least for the moment.

The thought came with a certain thrill, just like the slight shiver that ran through him when the Other Yugi’s fingers were running through the hair on his neck, sending his nerves tingling whenever they touched bare skin. Spurred on by his reaction, Yugi kneaded the nape of his neck with his thumb, his fingers buried in Seto’s hair, and it was overwhelming and not enough all it once. Seto made a soft, helpless noise, entirely unable to form words as he was overcome by this sensation that overrode all his distracting thoughts and send goose bumps down his spine. Seto wasn't even certain if it had been Yugi who had pulled him into this embrace or if it had been him who had curled up to Yugi, clinging for contact - it was hard to keep track of what was happening to him, to focus on anything but Yugi’s hand, stroking the fine hairs on his neck. But it mattered little how he had gotten here, lying on a bed that wasn’t his own, Yugi warm and tangible with Seto’s arm wrapped around him and Seto's head resting on his chest. All else was faded out, meaningless and trivial, and listening to his steady, strong heartbeat beneath him, Seto felt the agitation drain from him. It was beyond him why he would have ever felt embarrassed. Yugi knew him like no one else did - they had experienced each other at both their best and at their worst, and they had pushed each other to their limits and beyond again and again. This kind of apprehension had no place between them. There was something immensely comforting in that thought, just as it was to simply lie here with Yugi right beneath him, to hear every breath he drew, to feel his fingers entangle with his hair, he himself apparently no less captivated with this simple gesture as Seto was. When Seto closed his eyes, a drowsiness overcame him, so different from his usual numb exhaustion, and before Seto knew it, he was already drifting off, lulled in by the subtle swell and fall of Yugi’s chest.

For years, Seto had only managed to find sleep after almost passing out from working until late, and it had always been shallow and restless. He had all but forgotten what it was like to slowly wake from a night of deep, sound sleep, and it was disorienting at first, especially since he couldn’t immediately figure out where he was.

The sun was shining brightly already through the half-closed window shade, and Seto found himself in an unfamiliar room, on an unfamiliar bed, together with a person that was everything but.

Even though Seto must have slept for hours, the Other Yugi was still there, leaned against the bedrest, his eyes closed. In fact, he had barely even shifted. A feeling rose in Seto’s chest, a pleasant tinge of satisfaction at the fact that Yugi had spent his entire night with him without even considering to leave.

Yugi must have been already awake, because he opened his eyes immediately when Seto lifted his head.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”, Seto demanded as he drowsily blinked into the blinding daylight.

“It’s Sunday, so there is no school today”, Yugi said, as if that perfectly answered his question, “And Yugi does not mind.” That was not an explanation Seto cared much for, but the Other Yugi seemed to be very serious about making that clear. Still, this feeling of satisfaction in Seto's chest grew with the knowledge that Yugi had stayed with him despite being obviously torn because of his consideration towards little Yugi.

“You still could have woken me up sooner”, Seto insisted, more out of principle than anything.

Yugi reached over to brush a few stray strands of Seto's hair back, and Seto generously let him proceed with just the hint of a glare. There was something strange in Yugi’s smile that Seto could not quite place, and it made him wonder what Yugi had gained from having him sleep like a stone on his chest for an entire night.

“You looked like you needed it.”

Seto made a noncommittal noise. He preferred to assume that Yugi meant a good night’s sleep, and nothing but that, yet he avoided Yugi’s gaze.

No matter how pleasantly sleepy he felt, it was high time for him to leave. The fact that he had been so close to Yugi all night was starting to truly sink in, and he was getting uneasy with their proximity. What he needed was time, and space, to figure his thoughts out.

To his relief, Yugi did not try to keep him from leaving when Seto decided that he had wasted enough time here, but he accompanied Seto to the door of the Game Shop downstairs.

“We should do this again sometime”, Seto announced, as matter-of-factly as he could while he put on his coat, already half out the door. He did not wait for an answer, expecting Yugi to take his words as nothing but a challenge to another round of card games. He had no doubt Yugi would know that this didn’t rule out anything else.

Seto would never admit it out loud, but even though he had overslept, coming here had maybe not been such a mistake in the end. After all, there was this strange, new feeling of contentment humming right under his skin, and when he ran his fingers over the back of his neck, he believed he could still catch the faint warmth of a hand that had been resting there all night.

[elle-subterfuge]

Fic: Home Soon (Maxanne, 1/1)

Fandom: Black Sails Pairing: Maxanne Rating: Mature Word Count: 2,461 Summary: A snapshot of Max and Anne’s life together in Nassau after their return from the New World.  Post-finale domestic fluff.

On Ao3 The sun was low in the sky, hugging the horizon, bathing the island in a coppery glow as Anne Bonny slipped off of the Argonaut and headed briskly towards town, her skin still damp and chaffed from the wind and sea water gusting against her as she stood at the rail of the ship, watching Nassau grow larger and larger, anxious for their return to land.

The crews venture had been successful, but they had been over two weeks at sea, and though Anne would never have admitted it out loud - if someone was foolish enough to press her - she had missed Max, and she was looking forward to being reunited with her. By the time Anne made it into the center of town, the sun had finished its decent, plunging Nassau into torch lit darkness. Her destination, Max’s tavern, was still some yards ahead, but already Anne could detect faint traces of the music from the building in the cool night air, and despite herself, her lips twitched up into a small smile as she picked up her pace.   Upon entering the tavern Anne found it to be a boisterous, sweaty, noisy hell – as usual - and immediately her shoulders sagged with relief.   It was good to be back. Anne’s relaxation only last for a few moments however. A scan of her immediate vicinity did not reveal Max’s radiant form, which meant that Anne was going to have to go on another hunt.  Luckily, she had a very good idea where Max was likely to be if she wasn’t holding court on the main floor of the tavern, so squaring her shoulders, Anne began to push and shove her way through the crowd.

As she approached the staircase that led up to the tavern’s second floor, and Max’s office, a feeling that Anne wasn’t sure how to characterize, but had become very familiar with settled over her, and instinctively she lifted her eyes to the top of the stairs. When they landed at the summit, Anne’s body stilled, and her heart seized in her chest as her gaze settled on Max, leaning casually against the railing, smiling softly as she tracked Anne’s approach from the landing above. “Four days behind schedule,” Max admonished lightly, holding out her hand to Anne once the pirate made it to the top of the stairs. “You do know how to make your woman wait,” she continued, taking Anne’s hand gently into her own. “Better late than never,” Anne replied lightly, her eyelashes fluttering with pleasure a moment later when Max’s thumb began to gently stroke the back of her hand.  “’Sides,” Anne continued, her lips curving up roguishly as Max continued to toy with her hand.  “When you see what’s in our hold, you’ll know the wait was worth it.” “So, the Kelso was everything we heard it would be?” Max asked, stepping closer to Anne when the redhead tugged on her hand lightly, indicating that she wanted Max to move even closer to her. “More,” Anne responded simply, wrapping her arms around Max once she had moved close enough. Anne sighed softly, contently as she wrapped Max up in her embrace.  She missed such moments of tenderness, of intimacy, when she was away at sea. She dreamed of Max’s full breasts and stiff nipples, of Max’s smooth, dusky skin, and of the warm, wet place between Max’s legs on those long, cold nights on the Argonaut. But it was this softness - Max’s hand in hers, Max’s sweet voice in her ear as they lounged together, Max’s tiny frame cocooned protectively around her body, Max’s lips pressed to her palm, her temple, the tip of her nose - that Anne truly longed for when she was separated from Max. “Is that all I’m going to get?” Max murmured into the warm, salty skin of Anne’s neck, her eyes closing momentarily as she spoke so that she could focus her attention fully on enjoying this rare public display of tenderness from Anne.   “Jack wants to show off to ya in the mornin’,” Anne replied lowly, indicating that for the moment that was all she planned to say to Max about the successful hunt she had just returned from.  “That don’t mean I don’t got nothin’ to give ya tho’,” she continued, her voice taking on a rough edge as she bucked her hips into Max’s body suggestively, her actions and tone immediately sending a strong shiver of desire through Max. “Is it gold earrings?” Max asked teasingly. Anne shook her head. “A string of pearls, perhaps?” Max inquired as Anne’s hands shifted from their perch on her hips and began to slide up her torso with purpose. Anne’s lips twitched up briefly, revealing her amusement with Max’s antics, but the expression only lasted for a moment before she gruffly shook her head again. “Is it … a book of French poetry?” Max asked, her breath hitching a little this time as Anne’s hands neared her breasts, a soft, tremulous sigh escaping from her lips a moment later when Anne’s hands reached their destination, and squeezed. Anne dipped her head down and leaned into Max until her warm breath was tickling Max’s ear, making Max’s body shudder with anticipation. “It’s my fingers under yer dress,” Anne whispered, her voice low, and rough and full of promise, “fuckin’ ya until all that’s comin’ outta that pretty little mouth is my name n’ the Lord’s.” Max’s eyes slipped shut as arousal coursed through her, and instinctively her right hand lifted to cover the one Anne still had at her breast, holding Anne against her.  “And if you’re good,” Anne continued, Max’s reactions to her closeness and her words driving her on, “I’ll give it to you again.” “We should go,” Max said quickly, biting down on her bottom lip anxiously as she pulled out of Anne’s embrace.  “It would not do for all of Nassau to see how easily the Dread Pirate Bonny melts in my hands.” “Ain’t me who’s gon’ be meltin’,” Anne replied, holding Max’s gaze with a steady, predatory intensity that never failed to make Max want to sink to her knees before Anne and give worship to her goddess of the hunt. “But you’re right ‘bout Nassau not needin’ to see none of it.” “Come,” Max breathed out, entwining Anne’s fingers with her own once again. “Let us properly say hello,” she continued, leading Anne by the hand towards her office, which would take them to the bridge that would bring them to their bedroom, and the privacy and comfort of their bed. xxx The moment the door to their bedroom closed, Anne was on her, and Max sighed contently, allowing herself to be overwhelmed. Anne was never truly rough with her, but after weeks separated from each other, Anne was often raw and passionate, desperate for touch, and as always, Max was desperate for her. Max loved the way Anne would rip her prized hat from her own head and toss it hastily to the side so that Max was free to bury her fingers in her hair. Max loved the hot, wet, biting kisses Anne desperately sucked into her neck and upper chest as her strong fingers carefully but quickly worked at the buttons of Max’s dress, making haste to reveal Max’s skin to her hungry hands and mouth. She loved the way Anne could not bear to have her lips parted from her skin, and would growl impatiently when she had to pull back from Anne’s mouth in order to yank Anne’s shirt over her head.   Max ached for the momentary calm that would come over Anne when she was finally naked before the redhead. She lived for the sweet twinge that would settle in her heart when Anne gazed upon her nakedness with wonderment, and touched her hands to Max’s hips, slowly, reverently tracing her hands over Max’s skin as if seeking to assure herself that Max was real, and there, and hers. And oh how Max throbbed, when Anne’s hands moved to her breasts, taking hold of them possessively as her lips captured Max’s again, hot and insistent and starving for Max once again. A soft shove to Max’s shoulders sent her tumbling back onto the mattress, and she laughed brightly as Anne tugged off her pants and then hastily clambered onto the mattress, covering Max’s body with her own. “Did you miss me?” Anne whispered hotly into Max’s ear as her hands trailed up Max’s thighs. “Always,” Max replied immediately. “How much?” Anne asked. “You tell me,” Max breathed out, reaching down to grip Anne’s right hand, which she then drew towards her center, allowing Anne to feel the answer to her question. She’d been anticipating Anne’s return for days, and it showed. “That much?” Anne replied, smirking before biting down on her bottom lip as she fingers explored Max’s womanhood, her mind becoming dizzy with pleasure from just how wet Max was for her already. “More,” Max assured her softly, her voice surprisingly serious as she reached up to gently stroke Anne’s cheek, holding Anne’s eyes with her own.  “Since our return from the New World, I am happier than I ever thought it was possible to be, but I am never so happy as when you are here with me.” Anne’s eyes slipped closed, and her head tilted to the side, nuzzling into the warmth and comfort of Max’s hand. “Missed you too,” she said softly, eyes still closed.   She didn’t have Max’s way with words. She often relied on her actions to speak for her. But sometimes she knew that Max needed to hear as well as feel things, and so she tried. “Never use ta wanna come back ta port,” Anne continued, her eyes still closed. “Now I count the fuckin’ days,” she finished, her voice, little more than a whisper as her eyes fluttered open to meet Max’s gaze. Max’s thumb stroked Anne’s cheeks reverently, and then, blinking back tears roused by feelings of love so intense not even she could hope to express them in words, Max arched up and captured Anne’s lips, kissing her slow, and sweet, and deep. “Please,” Max breathed against Anne’s lips before pulling away to lie back against the mattress once again. That was all Anne needed to hear to know that the time for words was over, and as soon as Max’s plea washed over her, Anne leaned down, bringing their lips together once again, kissing Max hotly as her fingers began to explore once more, intent on seeing her earlier promise to Max to fruition. xxx Water sloshed slightly around them as Anne tilted her body to the side, disturbing Max’s rest momentarily when she reached over the edge of the tub to pick up a bottle of rum she rested on the floor before they had clamoured into the tub. “Other drinks do exist, you know,” Max commented, resettling her head on Anne’s chest once Anne had settled against the back of the tub once more, allowing Max to go back to using her as a human pillow.   “Other women exist too,” Anne replied before taking a sip from the bottle. “But I know what I like,” she continued, grinning down at Max who rolled her eyes at Anne, but could not stop an amused little smile from touching her lips a few seconds later. “You know what Max likes?” Max asked a moment later. “I know a lotta things Max likes,” Anne replied, shifting her hand from where it had been resting on Max’s hip so that it was cupping one of Max’s full breasts. “True,” Max breathed out softly, enjoying the feel of Anne’s hand on her. “But I meant full, detailed answers to my questions,” she continued pointedly, though she made no effort to discourage Anne from continuing to fondle her breast. Anne rolled her eyes and shook her head a little before lifting the bottle of rum back up to her lips. “I told ya, Jack’ll tell it all in the mornin’.” Max released an exasperated sigh, and then reached out for Anne’s hand, taking the bottle of rum from her so that she could take a swig. “Jack’ll tell it for three hours in the morning,” Max complained, not quite willing to let it go yet, even though she knew Anne well enough to know that Anne wasn’t going to budge. “Last couple days were real busy,” Anne said thoughtfully.  “Might take him longer ‘n that,” she continued, her lips curving up into an amused little smirk a second later when Max shifted against her so that she could glare up at Anne. “Look at you,” Max grumbled. “You think you are so cute,” she pronounced, reaching out to pinch Anne’s cheek brattily before she sighed resignedly. “And you are…which is very inconvenient when I’m trying to be cross with you.” “Ain’t inconvenient for me,” Anne responded cutely, and despite herself Max smiled, and then laughed before taking another swing from Anne’s bottle of rum, which she then handed back over to her pirate.  “Ya heard back from Granny yet?” Max had sent a correspondence back to her partner in legitimate enterprise the day before Anne and the Argonaut had left for sea.  She hadn’t asked after details about the content of the letter since the business side of their operation bored her, but she knew that Max had been anxious about whatever it was, and that made it important enough to Anne for her to inquire about it. “Oui,” Max breathed out, moving her hand to rest over Anne’s where it had once again settled on her hip, “A few days ago,” she began. As Max launched into her story about the contents of old lady Guthrie’s letter, Anne settled in, resting her back more comfortably against the wall of their tub. For all Max liked to complain about how Jack never shut up, Max could spin a length yarn herself, and Anne knew that they would be soaking in the tub for a while as Max told her about the plans that were coming together for the further expansion of their current operation. Anne didn’t mind though, she enjoyed listening to Max talk, because like Jack, Max was good at it. Anne lifted the bottle of rum in her hand up to her lips, took a leisurely drink from it, and then allowed her eyes to slip closed, luxuriating in the sound of Max’s musical voice as she basked in the warmth of the water, the feeling of Max’s supple body pressed against hers, and the now familiar sensation of feeling like she was right where she was meant to be … of feeling like she was home. The End

[lnwseniorstudio1]

Blog Six

Huzzah! I have finally been able to re-organize and take a look at my research!

There are still a few things I would like to check out, including an OnBeing episode that Professor Sigamoney mentioned called “The Good, Bad and Ugly of the Digital Age”. I’d also like to read a book by Michael Bugeja entitled “Interpersonal Divide in the Age of the Machine”. These two may have to wait for Thanksgiving or Christmas break since they are not entirely necessary and would most likely just serve as more inspiration for my project as I go. I know there’s a lot of information below so feel free to skim but please bear with me...I will include my notes/summaries, bold important words and put my own comments in italics. If you are interested in this topic at all or in improving your life by understanding your current environment better, I would definitely read it all and watch all the videos. To understand it is literally life changing. 

The first thing I did was take a look at the textbook for my Media Ethics [Media Ethics: 10th Edition: Routledge] class. We’re through chapter 10 now and as we’ve been going along I’ve been tabbing pages that have had crossover or applicable information for my thesis concept. I won’t include everything I indexed here because it’s quite a lot but some of the important stuff:

p.10 “Values constitute a frame of reference” -- we may value some things too highly and act in accordance with those values which are never pure and need to be checked by our loyalties and principles on how to apply those values. This pertains to my project because my argument after doing research is that our society has valued information/education too much and social interaction not enough, therefore causing the downward spiral in mental illness that we’ve seen amongst progressive generations. 

p. 45 We often live in an “information cocoon” or “echo chamber” in which we click on and view only things that interest us and affirm our ideas/prejudices rather than challenge them. This insulates us and allows us to avoid discordant tones. 

p. 134 Studies have shown that there has been a 47% drop in the “empathy index” over the last decade amongst today’s college students. There is a strong correlation between increased bonding over social media and a sharp decline in emotional concern for others. This could be due to lack of face-to-face contact. Other studies have shown that casual touch, looking into a friend’s eyes and hearing their voice/seeing their body language is what cements a relationship. This can’t even be done through FaceTime or Skype. 

p. 134 Today’s teens and young adults are the most concerned with internet privacy more than ever before, even though they appear to be most transparent. 

p. 165 Ads today create an intensified sense of distrust of and alienation from others, mainly because they are viewed as deceptive. 

p. 175  “Living for likes in the marketplace” -- people have become commodities through Instagram, Tumblr, Facebook, etc. 

p. 181 Advertising and “media culture” are pervasive and act as a mirror/shaper of society; reflective but rich with distortion and selective content. 

p. 202 Millennials are defined as born from 1980-2000. They are called “digital natives” and have had instant access to all information since birth. 

p. 212 “Fragmented audiences” and “clutter”; our commercialized culture has seeped into our personal lives. We view other people as things we can buy and get something out of, rather than put something in to and cultivate as a human being. This is intrusive in nature. 

p. 227 We often reflect on the ethics of our new technologies and “progress” AFTER the damage has been done. We MUST correct these problems. 

I also checked out a few web links which I will include as I go in case you are interested in any of these topics and would like to know more. The first one comes from Thoughtful Life Ministries. I don’t normally like to include religious outputs in my research because they tend to be less objective but I really found this explanation of what is happening today helpful; it was very well-informed. I’ll include my notes from it in bullet point format which might be easier to read through more quickly.

http://www.thoughtfullifeministries.org/blog/2015/5/18/wisdom-in-the-digital-age-information 

“We live in an age of much knowledge and little thought.”

We tend to compartmentalize data and have little capacity to implement that data.

Our format for accessing information is fragmented, therefore our thinking is fragmented, therefore our actions are disconnected. 

Experiencing things in fragments has been shown to hamper cognition. One solution might be to read more books that help to develop better concentration skills, rather than reading short articles or blips or tweets from the internet. 

We have a false sense of wisdom due to so much information. However, real wisdom means knowing what to do with that data; how to use it to make decisions and build relationships up rather than knowing quick facts for trivia. This is also true spiritually. It’s one thing to know the Bible and another to have a relationship with God/Jesus.

Background noise is constant. 

We need stillness, silence, meditation and contemplation to maintain mental health--not quick answers from Google that don’t allow us to think and wonder for ourselves. 

We have built up an aversion to quiet and become uneasy when alone for too long. 

Quality of information is no longer a priority. 

Abundance of information calls for developing discernment so that we can learn to trust again. 

The next one comes from GoodTherapy.org and discusses some of the negative ways technology can impact our relationships. 

https://www.goodtherapy.org/blog/3-ways-technology-can-negatively-impact-your-relationships-0919167

A PEW study on Intimacy (2014) 

Shows that stress/distraction often comes from cell phone usage.

Tech devices can paradoxically provide a “sense” of closeness but also tension.

Distraction

Devices can turn in to an online addiction.

People who leave their devices for more than 10 minutes often show higher levels of anxiety--a sign of an addiction, similar to smoking. 

Depression

A study done in Pittsburgh shows higher rates of depression amongst those who use social media more (tend to compare themselves to others more, obsess over “likes”, etc.)

Shows a decline in mood, sense of well-being and of life satisfaction. This leads to “Fear of Missing Out”, but ends up causing those with this fear to miss out on what they already have in front of them. This calls for some meditation on gratitude. 

Sync Up by Powering Down.

Connections are forged through voice, body language, facial expression and are essential. Touch is also missing, even friendly touch, and cannot be replicated through FaceTime. There may even be a higher rate of young adults who are now uncomfortable with normal affectionate touch with friends, mentors etc. This may cause erratic behavior, like keeping away from most people and then taking touch too far at other times/sexually/romantically/public indecency or harassment/assault, etc--I have personally been the victim of sexual harassment (multiple times) and attempted assault and I know for a fact the person that did it has anxiety, depression and an anti-social/erratic nature. 

Solutions

Scheduling allotted times for technology usage.

Spending time in nature

A Dutch study has shown that those who live within 0.6 miles of a park or woodland have lower levels of anxiety. 

My last weblink is actually just to a YouTube Channel called “Charisma on Command”. I personally have used Charisma on Command’s videos to help me with my social skills. What I think is important about this is the fact that we even have a YouTube Channel dedicated to teaching young adults how to behave like normal people. This shows us that we are the first generation to not learn these social cues as children, we must develop them later to compensate and we are actually aware that we need this help. Charisma on Command currently has 1.2 Million subscribers...including me. 

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCU_W0oE_ock8bWKjALiGs8Q

My last section of research comes from some articles shared on Facebook that I saved and are often accompanied by videos. I would HIGHLY recommend reading and watching all of this because it could seriously help you to understand yourself and those around you better, and that simple act of understanding the cause of something and perhaps what you can do about it can alleviate so much of the anxiety that we’ve already caused ourselves. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2BauKQDg4j0

This was a video shared by GoalCast called “Us and We” by Wentworth Miller. It’s only a short segment of the full video but I still got a lot out of it:

Being in survival mode leaves no space for community, only worrying about ourselves and getting through the day.

Many kids today struggle with suicide and yet on the outside pretend that everything is fine, even return to school shortly after attempting suicide (I myself am amongst this category). 

Miller suggests this is not a cry for help because most don’t believe there is help to call for, and I’d have to agree--not that there isn’t help out there, just that when in this state you don’t believe there is.

We need to start watching out for, listening to, caring for and loving one another, even those who aren’t in our normal circle but especially those who are. People need to know they are not alone because as we will see in the following articles, it is actually loneliness, play deprivation and intense “schooling” that causes people to lash out through either suicide or homicide. 

The next video I have isn’t quite as pertinent to my topic but is still very important, perhaps as one of the solutions to the problems I am bringing up. I couldn’t get the link for it but on Facebook if you search for the ATTN page and the video “Our schools should teach basic life skills again” you’ll probably find it.

The quality of the information we place the highest value on (school) is lacking. Our education is nearly meaningless and we often hear high school students complain of boredom or being given useless information that will never help them in the real world.

Conversely, we are given 38% less home economics, financial literacy and cooking classes in school leaving students feeling ill-prepared for the real world.

This has led to the hashtag #Adulting: when someone has finally figured out how to do something every adult should know how to do and posts about their success in getting it right or when they can’t figure something out (like how to boil an egg) and resort to an easier means of getting the job done (Ie. going to McDonald’s for dinner too often). 

This is SAD, PATHETIC and a DISSERVICE to our youth: They should have LESS school but BETTER quality education, as we will see below in the final two articles:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hER0Qp6QJNU

This video actually came from Delta Protective Services’ Facebook Page and includes Simon Sinek discussing Millennials in the Workplace.

Sinek defines Millennials as born in 1994 and after. 

Corporations describe millennials as tough to work with, self interested, unfocussed, lazy and entitled. 

This is all true, but let’s ask WHY. 

Millennials want a purpose and to make an impact but don’t know how, leaving them extremely unhappy and wrought with mental health disorders.

Missing Pieces according to Sinek:

Failed parenting

Children are told they are special and can have anything they want for no apparent reason since birth. No merit: given participation awards which are shown to actually lower self esteem from embarrassment because children know they didn’t deserve it. 

Find out in adulthood that they can’t have everything they want when they want it and are confused/stressed and constantly worried about their future in a society that values monetary success and titles. 

Technology

Apps like Instagram and Facebook allow young individuals to “filter” their lives. “Life is amazing, even though behind closed doors I’m depressed”. We end up comparing ourselves and our lifestyles to other people’s lives which aren’t even the whole truth of their life and have unrealistic expectations of how life will be.

Social media is also associated with the release of Dopamine in the brain and that is the same chemical released through other addictions. It can be used as an escape from reality like alcohol or drugs and has a numbing effect. 

Like alcoholics who turn to alcohol under stress, social media addicts turn to more social media rather than other people close to them when under stress. 

This does not develop deep meaningful relationships and often most young people admit that they have fun with their friends but cannot count on them or confide in them. They have no practice at normal coping mechanisms. 

Social media provides temporary relief but long term increases rates of depression. The imbalance ignores the root of the problem which is related to instant gratification. 

What doesn’t come instantly is job satisfaction and meaningful relationships: those take years, even a whole lifetime, to develop that sense of joy in hard work and that is simply not present in our age group. 

We need to learn patience:

Worst case scenario: increase in suicide [homicide] rates from drug overdoses, dropping out of school or leaves of absence due to depression/mental health which is unheard of before this and we are already seeing this in America everywhere. 

Best case scenario: an entire generation of individuals never really finding joy; wafting through life with no fulfillment and constantly using the phrase “it’s fine”. 

Environment:

Corporate environments care about short game numbers and gains, not about the lifetime of the youth working for them. 

Corporations and businesses need to pick up the slack and help kids to encourage their confidence and cooperation skills. Kids think it’s their own fault but really they’ve had a lack of good leadership. 

Need to offer help with social skills, small talk and building relationships in general, slow and steady. 

Also need to remove technology and information overload temptations, such as cell phones in and even just before meetings so employees are forced to converse with one another. 

Need to learn to let our minds wander and enjoy the world without constant engagement: that’s how true innovation happens.  

https://byrslf.co/thoughts-on-the-vegas-shooting-14af397cee2c

The last link comes from Charlie Hoehn from BeYourself and he gives his thoughts on the recent Vegas shooting and why men keep doing this. It has a chilling amount to do with my topic and is another highly recommended read (including the attached videos, especially the one on Play Deprivation as a cause of mental and social disorders). 

Increased shootings are related to men’s emotional health, not so much the guns and weapons used in the shootings. 

Men have little social/emotional support.

Much of this is to do with chronic loneliness.

Need touch, caring, warmth, empathy, close relationships.

Can’t admit to these needs because they are not “for men” and cause them to appear weak, or at least society in general tell them so.

This can even be true for females with the new wave of feminism which encourages women to not appear weak as well and may unintentionally encourage the non-desirable traits of masculinity, such as isolation and the “lone wolf” mentality. 

Men need deep friendships and confidants as much as women do but end up posturing in front of other boys instead. 

Unrealistic expectations of masculinity lead to isolation and later violence (in forms of suicide, homicide or rape, etc.)

“The Mask You Live In” Video

Caring, relationships and empathy have been feminized and undervalued as traits for men.

Become homicidal/suicidal out of shame.

Respect is linked to violence: more to do with loneliness than anything else

Soul-deadening and maddening loneliness, feelings of rejection or being an outcast can be seen as emotionally traumatizing and develop a vision of seeing others as threats “people are cruel and not worth the effort”--I’ll admit, I used to think this way. I never would have hurt anyone, but I would isolate myself to cope.

Men [people in general] are also deprived of play.

People function best and are healthier with less stress which can be relieved through play.

Play encourages the formation of deep friendships, life/social skills and the mastery of survival/being able to respond well and not overreact to frightening situations.

This is like socialization for puppies and helps them to grow up to be non-aggressive and non-violent. Puppies grow into dogs that lash out because of abuse, isolation and fear/not knowing how to react to fear. 

Strong correlation between play deprivation and mental illness.

Leads to chronic depression when kids are stripped of their right to experience life on their own terms. Often depression and anxiety stems from feeling as if one has no control over their own life. 

To improve test scores and our children’s “futures” we have taught them not to live in the moment but to always plan for tomorrow and their resumes without giving them ample time to play. “Pills are prescribed for bodies and minds that cry out for play”. 

The result is a generation of the most anxious, depressed and suicidal American children on record. 

I can attest to this, and even when I do finally find time to play, I find it empty and not rewarding somehow. Apathy takes over and I lose the motivation/enthusiasm to have fun, a clear sign of mild chronic depression. 

“The Decline of Play” video by Peter Gray

Over the past half century, the U.S has seen a decline in play and a rise in feeling of helplessness and also narcissism amongst children/psychopathology. 

Without play, children have no emotional support amongst their own age group and it can become easy to feel deadened inside/to have no capacity for feelings (another way of saying, developed sociopathic tendencies). 

These children keep secrets and often feel shame/humiliation/disrespect and ridicule.

In need of friendship and play which develops fit bodies, cooperation and risk-taking. 

Why had play been eroded?

School and the emphasis on valuing information and “progress” over humanity and our condition. 

What good is all that schooling if it leaves us unhappy, unfulfilled and not even able to apply the information we receive? 

The type of play we have is also lesser in quality: it is not free and self-directed, but rather supervised, structured and uber competitive/less creative (dare I say organized little league statues versus story time or scenario based play-time). 

Irrational fears about dangers to children have been spread in the last 50 years as well (due to films like “It” etc.) when we actually live in the safest time for children to be outside in the neighborhood. 

The correlation between play deprivation, increases in amounts of schooling and mental disorders amongst youth are nearly linear over time. The 15-24 age group of suicide has doubled and the 15 and under group has quadrupled. 

Conversely, suicide amongst the elderly and older generations has gone down. 

In essence, we are a worse world for children; “safe” but destructive. 

The decline in our sense of control over our own lives has led to distrust, rise in narcissism, decline of empathy, but also decline in creativity since the 1980′s. 

What we can do:

Recognize the problem.

Examine our priorities.

Develop bonds with neighbors, open gymnasiums, park supervisors (that do not intervene with play, simply safety) and close off streets for certain hours for children to play in.

Stand up against the clamor for MORE school/information, just BETTER school.

So overall, this is what I learned and how I see this project as a progression of figurative sculptures that will likely illustrate each of these points (accompanied by my artist statement which will also include resources to all of this research and steps/ways for people to get help. I take this project seriously/personally and I want to help other young people to not have to suffer what I and my friends have):

The emphasis on more education leads to an obsession with obtaining information, whether useful or not, with little time to “play” and learn to apply that information through developing meaningful relationships. This can cause anti-social behaviors that are not even related to technology, such as a personal one: burying oneself in books and art rather than facing other people and developing friendships in real life--another example of absorbing information over actively pursuing goals/people. 

As children grow they are then suddenly subjected to the internet and constant access to an abundance of information and are unsure of what is necessary to know and what is not or how to sift through it all. 

When presented with social media, these children who are now teens absorb everything they see and develop unrealistic expectations for life that can never be met and often neglect in-person social interactions, hampering their social skills. Over time, this causes anxiety/depression and is further compounded when the addiction to social media takes over and the endless cycle of “bad coping” takes over. Obsessed with knowing more and more and presenting themselves a certain way combined with living in “survival mode” leaves no room for empathizing with others and thus begins the narcissism that can eventually turn in to true sociopathy. 

In the young adult stage, a near existential crisis CAN take place when a person finally becomes aware of what is happening to them. Hopefully, they will change their habits and get help/therapy (for those of you wondering, yes, I have gone and will continue to get therapy/counseling)...at other times, they may not ever figure out what the actual problem is and continue through life anxious, depressed and apathetic, unable to feel the vitality of life. They will have a hard time focussing a train of thought due to fragmented inputs of information and develop discordant relationships/behaviors in response. They will have trouble understanding complex concepts and require narratives and deep thoughts to be broken down and spoon-fed to them, rather than contemplated and dots-connected on their own. 

In the most drastic cases, a person may kill themselves or those around them who they blame for their loneliness and isolation, which would be easy to imagine considering they have already died internally and cannot feel pain for those they are harming.