There-are-No-Borders-Here

Space Australian Medicine

Despite the best efforts of everyone involved, something truly nasty escaped Earth. They call it giardia, a microscopic organism that their Planetary Protection Officer called “pretty dumb” and “not too bad, really, a week of digestive upset and then it’s over.”

Yes, Earth has a Planetary Protection Officer. They have a Planetary Protection Office, and have had one since they were sending probes around their own solar system. Doctor Ma-et had found it a bit silly, like a child concerned about the cleanliness of their toys, until she learned that the job of the Planetary Protection Office had always been protecting other worlds from Earth.

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Committed - Harry Hook x Reader(OC)

Originally posted by unchxxrted

Prompt : Aaliyah(reader), the daughter of Princess Tiana and Prince Naveen, is arranged a husband to maintain the legacy of Maldonia. What she didn’t expect was who she would be arranged with.

Rating : T

Warnings : Few curse words, but other than that, none.

A/N : Sooo, I watched  Descendants 2 yesterday, and I am in love with Harry Hook (and Uma), so I just spat this out last night. I haven’t seen the first movie, so i apologize if i got any characterization wrong. Send me feedback plz! I love off it! This will most likely become a miniseries. But click here to message me if you want a part 2!

A/N :I will be changing to a new url soon, so dont freak out!

Part 2 / Part 3

Commitment Day. The dream of any princess, except Aaliyah, of course.

Commitment day was a tradition for the children of royalty here in Auradon. To keep the royal legacy alive, the kingdom would have a huge ceremony where each royal would be paired with another. The mirror of Auradon would display the name of each royal’s true pair, and the two would be married off within the year.

And today, on Aaliyah’s 18th birthday, she would be paired with the person she would spend the rest of her life with. How exciting.

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Trump is trying to fast-track part of his border wall. Here’s what that could mean for wildlife.

  • The Trump administration is moving forward on the controversial wall despite failing to release an impact study on the environmental consequences of the massive infrastructure project.
  • According to Jesse Lasky, an assistant professor of biology at Penn State University, the full extent of the potential damage the proposed border wall could do is unclear without such a study available — but he says that the project would likely pose both short- and long-term problems for wildlife and natural habitats along the border.
  • A major issue, Lasky said, is that the proposed wall could curb the movement of animals in the region, which means that “populations that haunt the border would likely be reduced.”
  • Cutting off movement could curb animals’ ability to seek food, water and mates, hinder the genetic diversity that allows them to adapt to new environments and prevent populations from “refounding” in new areas if they face perils such as disease or flooding. Read more. (8/4/2017)

The border is many things to different people across America. For some, it is a place of opportunity, where goods flow in and out of the country, adding to the economies of both Mexico and the United States. Others see it as a gateway for drugs and illegal immigration.

We wanted to know how the people who live and work on the border feel.

So we are travelling this week to Texas’s Rio Grande Valley.

This part of the border has been getting a lot of attention from politicians in Washington lately.  It’s one of the most active places now for apprehensions of illegal immigrants and drug traffickers. But it is also an economic pump for Southern Texas, because of its role as a huge shopping destination for Mexicans hitting the malls of McAllen.

The Rio Grande Valley in Texas abuts 320 miles of river, the iconic Rio Grande, which acts as the natural barrier and the de-facto border between Mexico and the United States. But in many parts of the area there is no man-made barrier between the two countries. In one tiny community, a hand cranked ferry takes people and cars across to the other side. It’s a sign of how intertwined the communities on both sides of the river are.

A decade ago, there were plans to build a border fence here but they never came to fruition because of lack of money, among other reasons. Today, President Donald Trump has promised to build a wall across the entire Southern border and this part of Texas may be included in that.  

Join us—Lulu Garcia-Navarro, host of Weekend Edition, and producers Ravenna Koenig and Samantha Balaban– as we explore this area over the next four days.

(Photo: NPR/ Ravenna Koenig)

Jane waited for a storm. 

No, that wasn’t quite right—that wasn’t quite accurate, and accuracy mattered. 

Jane chased the storm. She built new equipment and scoured her data. When New Mexico kept coming up dry, she moved outward. She called on SHIELD resources and tried to find other hot spots. (None of them were so aptly named as Puente Antiguo, which would always keep a special place in her heart and her humor).

Darcy followed, slamming doors and stealing Jane’s chips, acing any online class that asked her to argue and forgetting to ask Jane for help on her science and mathematics. Jane eventually learned she had to almost bully her into accepting the help. 

“Who taught you not to ask for things?“ 

Darcy rolled her eyes. “Who taught you to be nosy? Hey, wait, I thought that was a, uh, that little Greek s dude.”

“A lowercase sigma? No, it’s a cursive v. That’s a sigma there.”

“We have both? What idiot decided that?”

“Probably Einstein or somebody,” said Jane. “They can always read their own handwriting." 

"See, this is why you get to do the grocery shopping,” said Darcy. “You’d send me out to get cursive v’s and I’d come back with a baby sigma and you know it’d just be your scientist handwriting’s fault.”

They chased the storm. Months went by. Jane went out to stand in actual rain and let it drench her. The sun had blasted each water drop hitting her face into steam, once, and sent it flying upward to the sky. It had turned to ice, to crystals, to water droplets, and clung closer and closer to its siblings. The water had traveled miles, maybe, over oceans and fields and country borders, to fall here on her face. 

When Jane got back to the Motel Six where they were staying, soaked through, Darcy bullied her into a hot shower and played I’m Singing in the Rain at top volume all night. 

on the verge of understanding something extraordinary

[link to full fic]
Playful [Jason Todd x Reader]

A/N: I can easily say that I’ve come to terms with the fact that I have an obsession with Jason. I got on the border of NSFW here, maybe one day. This post is inspired by a this video. Its so cute and I just imagine Jason doing that lol. - Link

Warning: Light swearing, kinda heated

Jason decides to kill your mood… at first

________

You were laying with Jason on the couch in your shared apartment. He had his head resting on your shoulder and his arm draped around your frame.

Your hand was resting on his exposed forearm, thumb unconsciously stroking his skin. The both of you were just watching a movie enjoying the other’s company.

He finally had a night off from anything and everything Red Hood and decided to spend it cuddling with you. But to be honest this movie was hella boring, and you wanted to do something… more, than cuddling. A plan began to stir in your mischievous brain.

Letting out a sigh, turning your face to his. He gave you a relaxed smile, “Everything alright?”

Nodding softly, whispering “Yeah, this is just… nice”

“I know, I wish we could do this all of the time” He placed a peck on your nose, eliciting giggles to bubble from your throat. You liked whenever he was tender and intimate like this, it was relaxing.

Sighing again you rested your forehead to his. Lifting your hand on his arm to his cheek, beginning to stroke his cheek with your index finger. You made eye contact with him, diverting your eyes every so often. He loved whenever you’d be bashful, finding it undeniably adorable.

A smile grew on his face as you inched your face more toward his. Rubbing your nose against his, a soft hum to escaping your throat.

“[F/n]?” he whispered.

“Hmm” humming as your nose brushed against his again. Your lips just over his.

“Watcha doing?” he playfully asked. His deep blue eyes sparkling with mischief, though not the mischief you were trying to provoke.

A grin beginning to decorate your features, “cuddling” you innocently responded.

He let out a content sigh. Tilting your chin to connect your lips he playfully cut your kiss off by swiftly licking your upper lip and nose.

Withdrawing you laughed covering your mouth and nose. He then lifted his hand covering yours and holding it there. He knew what you were doing the whole time.

Laughing you pulled both your hands away. “You jerk” playfully pushing his shoulder. He chuckled before moving so he was hovering over you. “You were trying to tease me” inching his face closer to yours.

“Beep, wrong. I was trying to get in the mood~” Wiggling your eyebrows at him.

He chuckled again before leaning down to where his mouth was near your ear. “Well maybe now I can help with that” he whispered as you felt his breath on the shell of your ear. Sending a shiver down your spine

Withdrawing his face he smoothly connected his lips with yours. Wrapping your arms around his neck you drew him closer.

Bitting down on your bottom lip. It didn’t catch you by surprise but you allowed him access anyway. His tongue quickly intertwined with yours.

His hands landing on your hips, moving your legs so they’d wrap around his waist. Hands then moving to your ass.

You did get him where you wanted him. Much to your satisfaction.

Detaching from your lips he moved to your neck. Kissing and biting at your skin. Leaving his mark on you in his wake.

Fingers moving to his hair, they intertwined between the strands. Giving his hair a light tug he detached his lips from your neck and moved back to your lips.

Hungrily he dominated your mouth. Something you were one hundred percent ok with. When he began to pull away again you caught his lip between your teeth. Causing him to smirk down at you.

“Well, isn’t someone hot and bothered tonight” he examined before dipping his head down again. Stopping when his nose was gently rubbing against yours. You smiled at the tender action, you were usually the one to do that. Jason doing it made it even more special.

Connecting his lips to yours again he lifted you off the couch. Your legs still around his waist and hands in his hair. Carrying you into your shared bedroom and kicking the door closed behind him.

Placing you down on the bed, his lips went to your neck again. Sucking and biting on your sweet spot.

You were indeed getting what you wanted tonight.
_____

I’m also still taking requests for prompts and aesthetics! I love getting requests! <3

Here’s my rules and a prompt list!

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Plant of the Day

Friday 12 May 2017

On the woodland garden floor of Doddington Place, Kent, U.K., Convallaria majalis var. rosea (lily of the valley) was creeping through the front of a shady border. Here the pink version of the classic white lily of the valley carries little, pale pink, bell-shaped flowers on the top of straight stems through a spreading carpet of leaves.

Jill Raggett

Home- a story featuring Elide and Lorcan post- TOG books.

So this will be a pretty long series. I wanted to do something where Elide and Lorcan were all happy and reconciled but I had trouble getting into that headspace. So I’m starting this out to where we can see if and when forgiveness might happen (spoiler alert: it will I’m total Elorcan trash) because I feel like that’s an important foundation for where this story will end up. I hope y’all like it.

________________________________________

Chapter 1
Perranth. It was everything Elide remembered and more. Ancient oaks grew in vast swathes over the hilly terrain. The air here was fresh, clean, free. When the Lady of Perranth returned to reclaim her Title and Estate, it would be her first order of business to open up the Castle and tear down that damn tower. Vernon’s lackeys had fled when word of Erawan’s defeat and Vernon’s brutal death had spread throughout the kingdom. As such, the castle was in a state of disrepair and full of refuse from the bacchanalian revelry of the soldiers.
Elide sighed, peering through the open doorway, her light frame heavy with the burdens she had been forced to carry in her short life.

“I guess I just thought when the war was done we all could finally relax” she loosed a breath as she brought her arms up to remove the pack she had carried. It fell with a thud at her side. She turned up to look at her companion, a Fae male, who towered over her by a solid foot and a half. Lorcan gave Elide a wide berth, unsure of how the return to her childhood residence would affect her.


“Well, at least the castle is empty for now. Although, it probably won’t be for long. As word spreads that the Lady of Perranth has returned, your counsel and protection will be sought out.”
Elide arched a brow, “My protection?”
Lorcan remained serious, eyes scanning the courtyard, always prepared.
“Elide: honorary member of the Ironteeth and Crochan legion. Companion to Queen Aelyn and General Aedion. Who stood with them in the final Battle of Morath and banished Erawan. People will know; stories have already travelled. You do not give yourself enough credit Elide” Lorcan turned to face her.
There was more to say. There was always so much more to say between them. But they held back all the words and feelings. Holding back enough to keep it from being real. Because when things were real you could actually could get hurt. Lorcan knew some of that pain. He didn’t think he could even feel pain or terror until a few months ago. When he saw Elide kneeled before Maeve, a dagger to her throat. Lorcan physically shook his head to rid himself of those terrible images which still haunted his dreams.
Elide gave a small smile, “I suppose you’re right. I am pretty tough.” She then surprised Lorcan as she reached her had up to touch Lorcan’s inky black hair.
They had been on the road for weeks. He suddenly became very self-conscious.  Of everything. Of the dirt covering his body, of the fact that they had finally reached her childhood home, which seemed more like a tomb than a place for a young woman, and of the fact that he wasn’t sure what there was between them; if there was anything between them.
After Lorcan’s betrayal of Aelyn and her friends, Elide traveled with the witches while Lorcan traveled with his cadre. They had found and rescued Aelyn. She had died and came back; her mate sacrificing his immortality for her. Then, the battles began. Wave after wave. They were too busy to talk. There were no romantic confessions as they all walked to their potential deaths. There had only been action. When the dust had finally settled, and they all stared at each other in bewilderment, there was still no time to talk. There was no heart to heart. There was planning to do. Territories to manage. Valg to hunt down.

When things finally calmed down, Elide said she was going home. He’d offered to accompany her and she surprisingly hadn’t refused. She also hadn’t been particularly verbose on the trip home. But he could tell by her scent that much of it was due to the fact that she was absolutely exhausted. There was no longer seething anger coming off of her. Just bone weariness and in the back of her mind, worry. Worry about what she would do now that she wasn’t going to be on the run, or hunted, or caged.

And now they were here. And now what.

He was brought back into the present moment, not even realizing he had been staring off in the distance at that damn tower while Elide was saying something to him.
“Lorcan?” she repeated.
“Yes?” he finally answered.

“Thank you.” Was all she said. Her hand returning to her side. He wasn’t quite sure if that’s all she had stated before. He had truly been so lost in his own mind that he hadn’t heard anything she had said.
__________________

Elide noticed Lorcan’s midnight eyes glaze over and his body begin to shut down as she reached up and touched his hair. She didn’t know why. Was he disgusted by her touch? It had been so long since they had shared that moment in the hammocks before the whole world had gone to total shit. At least before that happened she knew who she was, who her friends were, and had hope. All of that had fled on that blood-soaked beach.

Lorcan had betrayed all of them for her. He had called upon a woman who had promised to kill him, for her. The logical part of her knew that he had risked it all without thinking. He had seen all of Ansel’s ships and panicked. In an instant he had used his powers to shout “Help!” and Maeve had done what she did best: twist something into its basest and most cruel intention.  Yes, Lorcan had meant well, but the consequences were so so terrible, did that even matter?
That day she felt actual physical heartache.  Elide was so mad that he betrayed their friends.  Not once, but twice, when Lorcan revealed that Aelyn had two wyrdkeys. She knew that with the blood oath he had to tell Maeve, but Elide also knew that she would have sooner died than betray her friends.
However, if she was honest with herself, she also found herself angry for a much more petty reason. How could he ever love a person like Maeve. She had truly felt like she knew who Lorcan was in their short time traveling together. She had been ready to offer herself up to him completely. Her heart, her body, her loyalty, and her home. And on that day, she saw what a person whom Lorcan actually “loved” was like and she felt like she didn’t know anything.  

When it was all said and done though, she didn’t want to travel back to Perranth alone. And she felt like even though she wasn’t sure if she could or would forgive Lorcan, he could start his penance by escorting her back to her home. Even though it hadn’t been a home since before her parents were killed. Indeed it had actually served as a prison to her longer than it had ever been a home. Yet in those marshes, the night she and Lorcan had shared a few passionate moments, she had let herself dream that the two of them could make it one. And now, looking at the castle, the tower, and Lorcan, she just felt like it was all an unbearable load of shit.
———————–

“Of course. It was an honor.” Lorcan replied. It was Elide’s turn to return to the present from where her mind had wandered.
She fidgeted with her hands.
Lorcan, even though he was over 500 years old, couldn’t predict what her next step would be. Tell him to go to hell? Employ him to keep the castle safe until things calmed own? Forgive him? No—he stopped himself short on that one. He wasn’t foolish enough to hope for that. What he had done was unforgivable. But he was willing to spend the rest of his miserable, lonely life making it up to Elide, if she would allow it.
Elide stopped fidgeting with her hands, and grabbed Lorcan’s hands, holding them in between her own. She looked down to where they were now joined.

“I have been thinking this whole time we have been traveling here about what to say to you. I have been imagining what it would be like to return here. And now that we are here, and you are in front of me, i don’t know what to do about either.” The words came flying out of her mouth. She wished she had more eloquent thoughts and words. She didn’t feel like much of a lady at all. She started again.

“I honestly don’t know if I can forgive you. I know you did what you thought was right at the time, but you really hurt me and my friends. There are people whose lives will never be the same because of what you did.  And I’m sorry that I don’t know how I feel about any of this but I don’t. “ Elide raised her head, forcing herself to look him in the eyes. Dark eyes meeting even darker ones.
Lorcan stood there, taking it all in.
“You don’t owe me anything Elide. What I did was unforgivable and I’m not going to ask anything of you other than the opportunity to serve you. The borders here are not secure yet, and there are still Valg wandering around. Let me be of use to you is all that I ask” Lorcan was straining with every word that came out. Of course he wanted her to forgive him. He wanted to take her into his arms and make her feel safe. But he knew that was not going to happen. He didn’t deserve for that to happen.

Elide gave his hands a squeeze, dropped them, and turned to go in to the castle that had been the scene of the best and some of the worst times of her life. She took a deep breath and called behind her “You can start by bringing my bag inside.”
Lorcan almost smiled.
 

 They come from Sudan, Somalia and Ethiopia. They are young adults and unaccompanied minors, pregnant women and entire families. They gather here in Ventimiglia, Italy, a small town on the Mediterranean coast, major transit point for refugees, and final frontier of the dangerous journey to Europe.

As many migrate north to nations like France and Germany, they pass through Ventimiglia, but recent increased policing along the borders here has prevented people from crossing successfully. As a result, the population of refugees and migrants is growing. With camps full, people look to the urban landscape for shelter, sleeping under bridges and overpasses. Some even sleep along the banks of the Roia river.

Citizens engaged: citizens on both sides of the border have stepped up to help the growing population. In Ventimiglia, Sant Antonio church has transformed into a temporary shelter and food kitchen; local bars offer refugees meal discounts and free electricity to charge their phones, since makeshift shelters lack power. MSF began collaborating with these local efforts in fall of last year to provide care for migrants in transit, especially for expectant mothers and to address the effects of mental trauma. Often, the trauma from the migration route leaves individuals with feelings of depression, abandonment and anxiety.

While people wait for the next step in Ventimiglia, not every asylum claim is approved by the government. When these applications are denied, the options are limited, though a last effort remains: to walk the five miles from Ventimiglia into France, a journey along the highway known as the “Pass of Death.” Since September, 10 have died on this route attempting to cross the border, and some, avoiding the highway altogether, travel along the equally dangerous railroad or mountain path instead. It is along this route that Roya Citoyenne, a local community group across the French border, has created a temporary shelter where, if only for a moment, refugees can safely rest as they seek their final destination.

bohemia lies by the sea by anselm kiefer, 1996

@beachdeath I actually couldn’t tell on what level u were joking abt that mitski lyric but it reminded me of this piece that I spent a long time looking at at the met.

it’s 75in. × 18 ft (191.1 × 561.3 cm) in real life, which makes it very overwhelming and sublime.

in the winter’s tale, shakespeare writes in a stage direction that part of the play takes place on “the seacoast of bohemia,” which is a landlocked country. the painting actually takes its title from this poem by the austrian poet ingeborg bachmann (1926 – 1973):

If houses here are green, I’ll step inside a house.

If bridges here are sound, I’ll walk on solid ground.

If love’s labour’s lost in every age, I’ll gladly lose it here.

If it’s not me, it’s one who is as good as me.

If a word here borders on me, I’ll let it border.
If Bohemia still lies by the sea, I’ll believe in the sea again.
And believing in the sea, thus I can hope for land.

If it’s me, then it’s anyone, for he’s as worthy as me.
I want nothing more for myself. I want to go under.

Under – that means the sea, there I’ll find Bohemia again.

From my grave, I wake in peace.

From deep down I know now, and I’m not lost.

Come here, all you Bohemians, seafarers, dock whores, and ships

unanchored. Don’t you want to be Bohemians, all you Illyrians,

Veronese and Venetians. Play the comedies that make us laugh

until we cry. And err a hundred times,
as I erred and never withstood the trials,
though I did withstand them time after time.

As Bohemia withstood them and one fine day
was released to the sea and now lies by water.

I still border on a word and on another land,
I border, like little else, on everything more and more,

a Bohemian, a wandering minstrel, who has nothing, who
is held by nothing,

gifted only at seeing, by a doubtful sea,
the land of my choice.

Why is diversity important in the practice of law?

A couple of months ago, I applied to a scholarship that asked me to answer the previous question. It was angry, it was honest, and I thought it wasn’t going to be PG enough for the committee. Yesterday, I found out I DID get the scholarship. While I am very thankful to have received it (it means I can afford to buy my textbooks next semester) I have often come back to the essays that I wrote in order to remind myself… why the hell I’m doing this in the first place. So as usual I thought I’d share

Why do you believe that diversity is important in the practice of law?Despite many advances, our country is still confronting an incredible dissonance of identity. We call ourselves the land of the free and home of the brave; yet we quantify how much “freedom” our citizens deserve based on their skin color, religion, and income, and refuse to let some of us call this our “home” even when crossing oceans and borders just to get here was the bravest thing we’d ever done. No one understands a struggle, as well as the ones that live it. Who better to understand our country’s issues than those that live in a dissonance of identity every day like minorities in this country do? Who better to shape the definition of America, than those that struggle with being “too” American and American “enough” every day of their lives?

Our laws, regulations, and public policies are the framework in which our society is built on and lives through. The law is words put into action. Those with the power to make law, decide what it means, and what it should be, determine who our country is and who our country will be. We need more diversity in the practice of law so that when those important decisions of policy and law are made, our experience and issues are taken into serious consideration without being dismissed, not simply for ourselves, but for the future prosperity of our country. A fragmented community cannot grow, and without resolving our issues with race, immigration, religious differences, and income disparities, we will never be united enough to prosper.

What can we do to promote and support diversity in the legal profession?

Give us examples to follow. Give us a lot of examples to follow. Help more minorities get to and through law school. Then help them succeed even after law school. We can expose our children to what they could dream to accomplish every day, but without seeing themselves in a concrete example, in someone that looks like them, and speaks like them, and has experiences like theirs, those ambitions will remain abstract dreams and not realities.

When I was 16 I saw Elle Woods graduate from Harvard Law School in the film Legally Blonde and I knew that I wanted to be a lawyer. By 18, despite having graduated as a National Hispanic Merit Scholar, at the top of my class, and with a full scholarship, I also knew that I could never go to law school. I didn’t know any lawyers; my parents didn’t know any lawyers. Elle Woods was blonde and rich and I was brunette and poor. That’s what life had taught me in those two years, that’s how strong and pervasive the lessons of inequality continue to be in our country.

It wasn’t until ten years later that my high school students would finally help me unlearn that terrible lesson. My students were refugees, immigrants, band geeks, cheerleaders, gang leaders, mothers, fathers, orphans, and poets. They would come into my classroom tired and sleepless because they were working all night, because the baby hadn’t stopped crying all night, because they hadn’t stopped crying all night for the mother they left behind in El Salvador. But when I told them that education would help them reach their goals, that they could go to college and most importantly that they could graduate from college, they believed me. They believed me because I look like them, and speak like them, and I can never say no to a bag of Takis or a plate of pupusas just like them, and I had done it. With my braids and Spanish accent, I had graduated.

My last day in my classroom, I sat on the floor and cried because I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving them, until Guadalupe told me, “Miss D. if you can’t do it then how do you expect us to do it? You said we could and we can, so now you have to, too.”

I’m a first-generation American, first-generation college graduate, Mexican-American woman and English is my second language, and in 2019 I will be a law school graduate. Because underneath every single one of my identifiers that I am so proud of, there is an entire population of Americans that didn’t have the privilege and blessings that I did to be able to overcome the obstacles that every single one of those identifiers puts before us. Because I cannot let the world say that any part of who I am limits me; I cannot say it for myself or for all my students that inspired me to fulfill my dreams. That’s what keeps me up at night, even after 12 hours of studying, even after ramen noodles and no sleep. To be a more diverse law community, we need more diverse students becoming lawyers, because once we do we will never forget that this is not just about us… this is about everyone like us that couldn’t and everyone after us that should.

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Star Wars: Bound by the Force

IT’S FINALLY DONE!!! Thank you to those who followed the progress of this artwork. This is one of the few times that I actually sat down to do some serious work on a fanart.

I was very much inspired by news of Rey’s new costume in episode 8, which is essentially her gray costume sans the vest, and her hair flying wild. I gave her a double bladed lightsaber, since I am one of those who believe she will be building her own lightsaber in Episode VIII, and more likely double bladed since she’s used to using a staff.

Kylo Ren’s costume is inspired from Gray Jedi, Cade Skywalker. I didn’t want him wearing those robes. I wanted him to come undone, but still have some sort of armor on him, although if you notice, his armor is bordering on gray.

The concept here is that both Kylo Ren and Rey will be tempted by the Light and Dark side respectively, hence them looking at each other. I’m actually envisioning a scene similar to Luke’s in episode 5, wherein he went deeper into the forest of Dagobah and encountered his Dark Side visions. Only, in the case of Kylo Ren and Rey, and applying the Force Bond into the mix, they went to fight what they thought were visions of each other, but what they actually had were astral projections of each other. I might add that in a fic one of these days.

Behind them, we see their respective masters, Snoke and Luke.

Thank you again to those who followed the progress of this artwork. It’s honestly bone-breaking work, took me a good two days to finish with breaks in between. Please do reblog and follow my blog for more artworks soon :)

Photographs of War- Chapter 1

For the amazing @selene-yoshi-chan​ and her incredible pieces of WWII AU Nygmobblepot and Gordlock. I had to make this a multi chapter fic because of reasons. 


Read here on Ao3

Summary: The year is 1944 and American forces have finally entered the European Theater in France. Never knowing which day could be their last, Technical Sergeant Oswald Cobblepot finds himself slowly falling for the only other man in his platoon that seems to want to take the time to get to know him; Medical Specialist Edward Nygma finds a friend and maybe something more; Second Lieutenant Jim Gordon fights for his own brand of glory and recognition in the eyes of a man he’s looked up to since the war began; and First Lieutenant Harvey Bullock tries his damnedest to not let his feelings cloud his judgement as the leader of G Company. 

Raiting: M for now, might go up to E depending on how the characters treat me. 

Warnings: None for this chapter. 


Dear Mother, 



I finally received your letter last week. It has been difficult getting time to write back to you as we’ve been marching non stop. Don’t worry, we haven’t come under any fire.  Lieutenant Bullock says that there’s no reason to be worried, but I can see he looks more and more drained the closer we get to the border. 



It’s beautiful here. I can see why you loved it and why it was so hard to leave. We might be entering the front lines soon, but I can hardly get a word out of the upper ranks. 



They tell me that we’re getting closer to your home town. I’ll bring something back for you, I promise. Thank you for the chocolates you sent me. Don’t worry, they didn’t melt. I would share them but I don’t particularly have anyone to share them with. 



I promise that I’ll be home as soon as I can. I hope I am making you proud. 



Love, 


Oswald

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