The signs as: Things my Teachers have said/done

Aries - I cry barbecue sauce. (World Geography)

Taurus - gas station meatloaf is better than you think, ya'all (Spanish)

Gemini - I really like the way that Rasputin died… *stares off into the distance while stroking his beard* (Theater Production)

Cancer - Anime scares me (Speech/Health)

Leo - Instead of taking the test, we should just party. (English)

Virgo - WHAT THE CORN???? (Biology)

Libra: how many babies did she pop out before she croaked?

Scorpio - ah, yes, I do enjoy a good meme (World Geography)

Sagittarius - DO NOT have sex. You WILL probably die. (Speach/Health)

Capricorn - *after being asked if he watched Rick and Morty* *walks out of the room and down the hallway as far away as possible, groaning the entire time* (Algebra)

Aquarius - *in the middle of lesson* and his name iS JOHN CENAAAAAA *starts playing the air trumpet fanfare* (Algebra)

Pisces - *ships his students* (Spanish)

sherlockscotts asked:

Tell us about your headcanon for Johnlock's first kiss!

oh god so many, so so many. 

My favorite one is after a big fight. We’ve seen how Sherlock desperately wants John to make him react, realize that what he does is wrong, that he’s killing himself and that it breaks John, seeing him hurting himself and not being able to do anything about it, because they’re nothing. 

Well, that one time, John does. Mycroft died, Sherlock closed himself from the rest of the world, didn’t get out, didn’t talk to John, just sat in silence staring into distance, except when John walked out, he took those moments to use cocaine. He kept writing the list, even though now he had no one to give it to, yet he still wrote them all. 

John arrives home earlier and finds Sherlock deep asleep, he doesn’t say anything because it’s quite common, so he sits silently and stares at him. When he looks down, he realizes there’s something on the floor, he takes it and reads it: drug after drug after drug. He feels the rage building, growing. 

Sherlock wakes up like an hour or so later and John is staring at him with that terrifying smile he saves for when he’s furious and with his arms crossed, he throws the list at Sherlock, gets up, grabs his jacket and walks away.

But Sherlock needs John to talk to him, so he shouts, “John!”, and surprisingly enough, John comes back, almost yelling. “Do you want to kill yourself? Is that what you want?”

Sherlock shrugs. “I don’t mind.”

“Well I do. I’ve seen you die once, I won’t stand and watch you kill yourself one second time.”

“What do you even care?”

John laughs sarcastically while shaking his head “What do I care? What do I care? do you think it’s easy? seeing how you destroy yourself? Not being able to do anything about it? thinking that you’re beyond saving? yet still trying? but you’re right. It’s always your way. So go ahead, keep doing it. Just don’t make me watch it”, he said, turning towards the door.

“That’s all you’re going to do? Walk away? is that your answer to everything?”

John turned back, looking a bit shocked by Sherlock’s response. “My answer? excuse me, am I the one who’s left twice?”

“You’ve left, too”, Sherlock replied, his voice low.

“I thought you were dead, Sherlock!”, John replied, his voice breaking a bit.

“Good. Think the same this time and you’re free to leave.”

“Shut up, shut up!”


“Because I couldn’t handle it”, John said, matter-of-factly.

“Why not?”

“Because I love you!

Sherlock had said it once, just once, when John was hurt and it felt like it would be the last chance. They never talked about it. John had never said it, but he knew it was also his last chance. Sherlock blinked once, then twice, trying to react. “I- you- what?”

“I love you, you idiot. I care, I can’t stand to see you tearing your life apart, because it tears me apart, too.”

“I- I- I…”, Sherlock tried to say but his brain had apparenty stoopped working. 

Then, out of nowhere, John walked determinedly and placed a shy, chaste kiss on Sherlock’s lips. Sherlock couldn’t react.

John pulled away and felt terrified for a moment, until Sherlock finally, finally reacted, grabbed John by the neck of his shirt and kissed him, testing at first, deepening later.They held each other and tasted each other and all they could think about was finally, finally, after tearing each other apart, over and over, they’d be able to heal each other. 


This started as a headcanon and ended as a ficlet whoops! but seriously, this is how I imagine it would be, and I would probably die. Thank you so much for asking lovely! :3

Come and talk to me! :)

When’s the Date?

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 451

Requested by: Anon

AN: Alrighty, guess who is back from the friggin’ dead! Thanks for reading and enjoy!

It was out of the blue when he asked. You were both sitting on lawn chairs while looking up at the night sky. You two were on a vacation, just one over the weekend at a beach house you’d rented out. You could barely hear him over the sound of the waves nearby crashing onto the shore.

“Marry me?” he asked.

“Sorry, babe, what?”

“Want to get married?”

You stared up at the stars just awhile longer, thinking about it-well, there wasn’t really much to think about, you were certain of accepting it.

“Yeah, sure.”

He turned his head to look at you with a smile so bright that it could light up all of New York City. You reached a hand across the small distance to rest on his cheek. He flinched back from your cold skin, laughing at your shocked expression.

“You know your hands are cold, right?”

You frowned but continued to rub your cold hand against his cheek. He leaned up towards your touch, he would do this no matter how cold or hot your hands were, he had been deprived for so long of human contact that he didn’t want to miss out on any more.

“You’re beautiful, Buck.” You said with sincerity as you looked at him with such love and adoration.

“So are you.”

“I know.”

Neither of you thought it was too important to tell anyone of the engagement just yet but as soon as the two of you had come back Natasha was all over you.

“When’d you get the rock?” she asked, lifting your left hand and examining it closely.

“Over the weekend.”

“What rock?” Steve asked. He was carrying a large stack of pancakes and- oh my god, were those chocolate chips. You almost followed him because that man sure did know how to make some great pancakes. He placed them on the table and stared at you and Bucky.

“The one right here,” Natasha said. “Nice, I like it. This mean you two are tying the knot?”

“Uh yeah.” Bucky’s stance seemed to change from relaxed to a bit defensive, never one for people to pry much into his private life.

“Finally!” Steve said in exasperation and threw his hands up with a slight smile. “It’s about time, I’ve waited so long!” He turned and walked out of the commons.

There was a silence that collected between the three of you as you waited for Steve to come back.

“I’ve got so many magazines and books that I’ve stockpiled since the two of you got together,” Steve’s voice grew louder as he approached. He splayed magazines and books galore across the table and looked up. “So, when’s the date?”

Ikora squints into the Darkness, past the firelight. If she narrows her eyes, she can just make out the clouds that scud across the young moon.

The man in front of her bends his head, scrunches his shoulders. Obeisance, taught by the Wilds. A shock pistol rests on his hip. Scavengers, then. Others stand to either side of him. Bearded, flea-bitten; patch-worked with bits of Fallen metal and scraps stolen from the ruins.

In the distance, a row of huts crouches beneath the dark sky. A stream cuts between her campfire and the town. When she arrived in the grey light of morning a washer-woman stared at her with wide, white eyes. She would not speak. Her lip was split.

“There is room in the City for all of you,” she tells them again, but the shadows eat her words and she knows that they will never leave the kingdom that they have inherited, small and mean as it is. Power is difficult to give up.

“We like it here jes’ fine,” says one.

“All we’s askin’ is a little of the Tower’s bounty,” the man wheedles. “All we’s askin’ is-”

“Too much,” she whispers. “Too much.”

He straightens. Gone is the sniveling. Cold hunger stares back across the fire at her. The men beside him shift from foot to foot. One of them smiles, a broken yellow grin. Eager. She turns away, and he chuckles - proud. She does not say it is because he reminds her of the things that scream at her from the shattered corners of the Cosmodrome.

“Reckon yer pretty important, then. Reckon you’d be missed. Reckon someone might pay a pretty penny t’get you back.”

These are not Barons that stand before her. They are not Hive-Knights or Cabal Centurions or even avatars of the Vex. They look like men and they speak like men, but if they are human she cannot see it.

She shakes her head. She wonders what the Rangers would have thought. The Speaker sees worth in everyone - or claims to.

“Are you list’nin, girl?”

He is not the first to make the mistake. She knows that she has not cleaned her robes in weeks, knows that she is young and beautiful.  She has seen everything, heard everything; the abuse and the reprimands, the curses of a thousand men like these. Make a weapon of what scares you, they told her: so she did. 

She stands. Her Ghost whispers. It sounds like “Mercy.”

In the morning, the washer-woman thanks her. Ikora presses the battered shock pistol into her hand, points her to the West. The clouds have not lifted. Grey drizzle begins to fall.

She stares at the sky. Dawn will not come, no matter how hard she wills it.

anonymous asked:

companions react to sole meeting a exact copy of themselves with the exact same memories and such. after a minute or two of silent awe at the situation they slowly close the distance and then make out with themselves.

Idgdfjh same 

Piper: Her eyes widen and she just stares, unsure of what to make of this situation. Why Sole felt the need to do that is beyond her. It’s..it’s appealing to look at but..are they related? What’s going on here?

Preston: He opens his mouth to speak and then closes it again. Why..? He really has no idea how he’s supposed to respond. It’s just ?? Who makes out with their clone or whatever this is. 

Danse: He’s so awkward, just kind of trying to look anywhere but at them. Why in the world…? The effect that it’s having on him is even more disturbing to him. Why is he..aroused.

Maxson: He just stares, squinting a bit as if he’s not quite sure he’s seeing things correctly. He’s not sure if this should be arousing to him or not. Either way it is. 

Curie: “oh, how interesting!” She just wants to know why Sole did it. She’s genuinely fascinated by their attraction to their look a like. 

Maccready: “o..kay then, boss..” He looks at his feet but can’t help but keep looking up every once in a while. He hates himself for being turned on. 

Nick: He just stands there in confusion and then makes a wry comment “Ah, yes..Narcissus falls in love with his own reflection.” then he averts his gaze and stands there awkwardly. Should he leave or..? 

Hancock: “Nice..so..need a third member?” He really, really wants a threesome with the two Sole’s. Please let the ghoul live out his dreams. 

Deacon: “Uh…so, is this incest or masturbation?” Honestly he’s just curious about what the answer to that question would be. 

Cait: “Holy shit.” She can’t help but laugh because what the hell, man? But honestly she thinks it’s really hot and probably tries to get in on the action. 

X-6: He just walks away. He just fucking walks away. He doesn’t understand what he’s seeing and he doesn’t want to. 

Codsworth: *scandalized* MUM/SIR?!? Not in front of the robot son you sinners. 

Strong: “Why two of human?”

shortchangeher0 asked:

While I do agree with you about EDI's weird cameltoe (it makes me so uncomfortable) I do have to say Miranda and Samara have male counters, namely Jacob and Thane. Jacob is a soldier, yet he wears skin-tight clothing that offers minimum protection. And let's be honest, Thane's neckline might even be deeper than Samara's. Sure, some of the design are a little ridiculous considering the context I'm not as bothered by them

I’m not so easily able to dismiss the type of exploitation that goes on in those games simply because they made men look “sexy” too. You don’t have dialogue calling Jacob a bitch. You don’t have gratuitous shots of Jacob leaning seductively against his desk with ¾ of the screen being taken up by his ass with shepard in the distance staring.

Thane’s neckline may be deeper than Samara’s but its not accentuating something classically sexualized. it just doesn’t carry the same connotations. 

trying to justify the exploitation of women by claiming to even out the sexualiation between male and female characters changes absolutely nothing. it doesn’t change what they did to characters like Miranda and Samara. No character should be unnecessarily sexualized. the sexualization of certain male characters in the series doesn’t give bioware any excuses. 

sexualization of women, fictional or not, carries real world problems.. it perpetuates violence and can turn women into objects. i cannot tell you how many times i’ve read male players claiming to have only kept ashley alive because “kaidan didn’t have a vagina” or saying that they withstood miranda’s “bitchiness” because of her ass. creeps don’t make blogs literally worshipping jacobs body. people don’t make porn manips centered on thane’s chest. 

its just not the same

evil-triangle-demon asked:

"M-Mordecai...." The demon hiccuped, still a teary eyed mess from earlier in the day. He stopped a distance away, tears still streaming down his face. "Y-You.... You don't just pity me.... Right?" He sniffed, head falling low as he bit his lower lip. "Y-You love me, right...?"

Mordecai looked up and couldn’t help staring. Crying Bill was super duper rare so to suddenly see his lover with tears falling so freely down his face was… new… and, damn, if the bully in the tall male didn’t wanna come out but he resisted… for now.

“P-Pity?? Of course not, babe. I completely love you.” The cerulean male replied, walking up as he smiled warmly at the blonde. “Where did this come from?? Are you alright??”

GerIta Week Day Two: Training

Friends Don’t Let Friends Skip Leg Day

Germany had wanted to go to the gym, but he didn’t feel like going alone. Yeah, he was a tough guy, but today he just wanted someone to talk to. He felt as if his boyfriend Italy was the perfect candidate- although he would ramble, ramble, and ramble, he could listen to that jibber-jabber for hours on end; it was perfect for filling up the empty noise space. And besides, Italy could use some exercise too.

There they were, Germany benching like a maniac and Italy just sitting on his rump on the ground next to him. Germany looked over towards him, still holding the weight and raising an eyebrow.

“Heh heh, it’s time to work out again and I’m still walking funny from my last workout,” Italy was staring off into the distance, but then he glanced over and saw him looking at him. He giggled and waved, saying “You’re doing great!”

“Hmph,” The buff blonde blushed and looked away, ignoring him.

“Hey, Germany! You know what would be great right now?”


“Some pasta, that’s what!” He smiled and giggled again. “Hey, hey, wanna hear a fitness joke?”


“Someone better call the CSI… wanna know why?”


“Because you totally just killed your workout! Heh heh~ Wasn’t that funny?”


“You know, I’ve been trying to diet and work out, but I’ve come to the realization that the only way I’m going to get ‘smoking hot’ is by being cremated…”


“You almost done with your benchies? Are you? Huh?”

“…It’s going to be impossible to ignore you, isn’t it?”

Italy put his hands under his head and rested his elbows on his knees. “What? I didn’t even notice you were ignoring me… Ha ha! You’re so cute~”

Germany got up from the bench, giving the latter a side glare. “I am NOT cute, by the way.”

“Yeah, you are! Don’t deny it for another second!“

The German rolled his eyes, opened his knapsack and pulled out his water bottle, taking a swig. “You surely are your own adjective, aren’t you?”

“Hee hee hee! Guess you could say that. You know what else?”


“I’m glad you took me here with you, babe.”

“Why? I thought you didn’t like anything to do with exercise or the gym.”

Italy laughed. “What are you talking about? Friends don’t let friends skip leg day.”


Herbs were not Hero’s specialty. He knew that, no matter how much he tried to decipher what they all were so that he could do something helpful when the Boys weren’t getting themselves hurt. But it was a pointless attempt. He couldn’t do so much as tell basil from sage, nevermind the more dangerous stuff. He just knelt there by these strange plants, picking a few and making them into a strange bouquet of who-knows-what. Honestly, he wasn’t even trying anymore. He was just looking for an excuse to explore for a little while.

The one plant he was staring at now was just so bizarre looking, he couldn’t possibly figure out what it was. “The hell are you?” he muttered to himself, unaware of the presence within hearing distance.

New Kid In School | Open

Goldie was new at Grimm Creek academy, she had already gotten her class list and was waiting for a room in the dorms. She sat on a swing in the school yard and just stared out into the distance trying to memorize her schedule which was in her hand, when she was starting to think about how she wished that the academy had a special hall for the ageplayers. But she figured maybe this was the worlds way of tell her she had to at least grow up a little bit if not all the way.

It started with Hinata’s smiles stored away in Tobio’s head to be remembered when he was feeling down, shy looks thrown at Hinata when he wasn’t looking and running his fingers through the fluffy orange hair rather than gripping it forcefully.

It went on as barely concealed soft smiles and fond eyes, subtle movements to brush their arms when they were close to each other and spending as much time as possible with Hinata after practice.

It ended with wrong words slipping out of Tobio’s mouth at the wrong time, sobs muffled by a tear soaked pillow and Hinata avoiding him awkwardly, making Tobio feel empty.

It continued with a million apologies, promises to ”stop these feelings Hinata, just forget I ever said anything. So, do you want to go get pork buns?” and a suspicious, but relieved smile.

It stayed as slightly awkward silences and keeping their distances, movie nights where Tobio would stare at the tv without seeing it to ignore the glances Hinata sent his way and a mantra of ”don’t love Hinata Shouyou” in his head when he laid in his bed unable to sleep.

It turned into a forever with Hinata pulling Tobio down to his lips one slow Wednesday evening when they were alone in the club room, with a quiet ”I’m an idiot” murmured against Tobio’s lips and with a ”I- You- Shouyou, what the fuck was that?”

I love that moment in Fallout 4.

You know. 

The one where you’re walking along on a bridge or raised walkway and you suddenly hear the THUMP. You turn to stare at where your companion used to be as you realize that they have once again spontaneously clipped through the surface and fallen below. 

Bonus laughter if you’re over some water and the sound is SPLOOSH.

Bonus laughter v.2 if your companion is the tin can man and the sound is CRASH/SLAM/BOOM.

clownsanityfr asked:

Companions reacting to sole starting to lose their Sanity. I mean in a fucked up world like that he could break mentaly at any moments

Hmm, a reaction for that one? I got something even better. 
I’m going to group all of them together because it’ll mostly be the same. 
They see Sole about to break. Sole is staring out into the distance and muttering Shaun repeatedly. And their body is always tensing up with they see a raider, deathclaw, ghoul, or some sort of abomination. This wasn’t there world anymore. Not their home anymore! They wanted to go home! They couldn’t live with themselves, knowing all the good people they’d known, died. Vanished from their life. So when the companions see them breaking down in a corner, they don’t say anything, they just sit by sole and hold them close. They steady their breathing, then they count. “1….2….3…Shhh…” 
Strong would allow Sole to sit on his lap and repeat “Human is strong!Human always strong!” 
Dogmeat would lie on their lap and pant, licking their tears away.  
Codsworth is making sure Sole is doing a breathing exercise, making them count backwards.  
And X6, he’ll hold Sole close to him. Not uttering a single word. 

I wasn’t sure how to do this so, I tried! 

raelentrevelyan asked:

"It's your fault the Warden is dead." (why yes I do enjoy having my heart ripped out of my chest, too)

For the “RIP OUT MY MUSE’S HEART IN 1 ASK” writing prompt.

This one was rather difficult, as the Warden’s death has very little to do with Zev in the grand scheme of things. I decided to use this particular scenario where the Warden doesn’t accept Zevran’s earrings when he offers them to her: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EPXw0_NUgWM

Also…forgive the lack of originality in the last sentence. It just felt right to put there. 

Night descended upon the horizon, painting the earth a lustrous shade of onyx. Sleep kissed at the corners of his mind, beckoning the elf to find solace in dreams, but he ignored the night’s song to stare out at the walls of the city-state. In the far distance torchlights from the guard’s watch danced back and forth as the soldiers made their daily rounds, robbed of the slumber the Antivan so carelessly tossed aside.

The gentle crinkle of a tent reached tipped ears, announcing another who could not find rest. He bothered not to incline his head when footsteps inched closer, hesitant in their approach, as if merely closing the distance might send the elf sprinting into the abyss.

“I could use some company tonight.” Came a voice, a whisper almost as subtle as the passing wind. Minae had always been soft spoken, a trait he once mistook for timidity; but where others might bark to display their power, the Tabris, when provoked, would bite. “Care to keep me warm?”

The wind trembled the space between them, and though he dared not look, in his thoughts raven curls danced in tune to the breeze. Damn his weakness for her beauty. “I don’t think that would be wise, Grey Warden.” Somehow the elf maintained his composure.

“Please. The nightmares…they won’t stop.” Her voice breaks. How the sound tore at the poorly stitched seams of his heart. “The hum grows louder when everyone’s asleep.” He felt fingertips twist golden ropes between delicate fingers, breaching the space the Antivan silently demanded. A pointed chin nestled against his shoulder, nails digging pleading, wanting. “They’re worse when you’re not there…Please.”

Zevran took in an agonized breath. She smelled of honeysuckle and jasmine, and the scent was painful as he was reminded of twilight hours with her back nestled against him like a piece he never realized was missing. How the scent of her flooded his dreams and the hours long after their bodies entangled. His resolve was weak, always weak around Minae, and so he spun and claimed her lips before his mind could object.

She kissed him as if she could not live if their lips so much as parted, desperate hands tearing at his leathers, hands that should not be so feroce for an elf from the alienage. Minae pulled him towards her tent and the rogue almost followed, till the pressure of her hands dug a small, solid prick into his abdomen, reminding him of what lay hidden there.

“My gift,” he breathed out between kisses, prompting her to take the earring from him, “won’t you accept it?” It’s the third time he asked, and this last attempt no longer hid how much he needed her to say yes.

Yet she stiffened against his touch. “No.” She replied firmly, pushing the trinket back into the crevice of his palm, “No, I can’t.” Minae paused, gathering the strength to meet his wounded gaze. “I can’t promise a future with you.”

Zevran was never been one to make demands. But this sensation that hammered against his chest was like a wound that won’t heal. If this is love then it is a wicked, terrible thing, and he wished to be rid of it. Fingertips coiled around the earring as he parted from her warmth, a mask slowly forming onto the face of the assassin. A smile sharp like his blades was offered, closing the heart that was hers if she would only take it. “Then I’m afraid we have nothing more to say, no?” He asked, leaving before she can muster a reply.

In the quiet hours, when his eyes at last are lidded by sleep, her voice called out one more time.

“I’m scared.”

The words flashed through his mind on the day the Archdemon was slain. Years later, he learned of the ritual that might have saved her. His arms had not been there to quiet the hum. Perhaps, in death’s embrace, she sought solace from the Calling.

The Warden died because of you, the wind whispered through the forests of Ferelden, and after a time he found reasons to ignore King Alistair’s letters. The haunt followed him through the desert canyons of the Western Approach, through the wide stretch of decay in the Exalted Plains. His feet carried him over rivers and hills, fleeing from the sad song of the wind until the day there was nowhere left to run.

She glimmered gold in a world that was only ever grey.

But, alas. Nothing gold can stay.

anonymous asked:

Nine/Rose, long-distance relationship AU

“I hate this,” Rose murmured as she settled in to sleep, staring sadly at her laptop screen.

“I know,” John agreed quietly. “It’s only for a few more months though. I’ll be home before you know it, just you wait.”

“Not soon enough.” Rose’s words were punctuated by a yawn. “I’m makin’ you get up every night with Ali.”

“Lookin’ forward to it.” John smiled sadly. “Good night Rose.”

“Good mornin’ John,” she murmured as her eyes fluttered shut. He watched her sleep for a moment before looking out the window at the shining sun.

Time to get ready for another day.

Give me a pairing. Give me an AU setting. I will write you a three-sentence fic

Midnight Moon

Starter for @griminsnowdin

* [Doggo sits in the middle of the long bridge outside Snowdin, just staring out into the distance, thinking about something. Normally he went to Waterfall for this sort of thing but he just didn’t feel like walking all the way over there today.]

* [At some point, he takes a journal and pen out from his inventory and begins writing something in it. Not long after, he starts feverishly scribbling something out before writing something, he repeats the action twice more, getting frustrated.]

* Gah, come on! Just have…Ugh!

[CLOSED with Targetinsxght]


[ x ] - - ;; Shaking the water from her fur, the young lioness barely managed to cross the river between the Pridelands and the Outlands alive. After a few moments of hacking up nothing but water, her trembling legs gave out, and she collapsed onto her side. Nusu breathed heavily, staring off into the grassy distance as she tried to regain her composure as best she could. 

Her idiot brother thought it was be just peachy to trip her, sending her straight into the rapids. Nusu didn’t even have the energy to loathe Matatu, or even move, really. Yet she managed to crane her neck back far enough to be able to see something circling the air nearby. It didn’t seem to follow the path of a vulture, but for all she knew, it could be Mzingo ready to ship her in a to-go container to Janja and his rag-tag group of hyenas. She couldn’t tell from this far down. 

Instead, she tried to shift herself so she was partially sitting up, but she slipped and crashed back down onto her shoulder, letting out a loud yowl of pain. She sighed softly, knowing full well if she had been smart enough to go a different route or evade Matatu completely, she wouldn’t be in this current predicament…

Would your character know Takumi?

Know, maybe not, but having heard of, likely. He was quite reserved and quiet before his talent went well known, but if your character had followed the news, they’d find out there was an article about a young jeweler who has accomplished one last minute request in short time. Or if you character loves jewelry, chances are they’d have heard of his work.

Boy I am bad with that stuff. But an attempt was made. If I forgot something I’m gonna edit this post no problem-

Those dark eyes that always lit up whenever he was happy about something, weren’t lit now. They were still. But not empty. They were full. Full of emotions, and feelings, and wants, and words that he felt he could never tell me. And I just stared back. It was like we were two light houses, always meeting each other’s gaze from a distance, never knowing if one’s light would one day just go out.
—  Lighthouses; excerpt from An Idea I Keep Losing by Me