one and undivided

anonymous asked:

How come you don't believe in a personal God? What do you think of people who do?

I hate answering this question because I do not want anything I say to undermine anybody else’s faith. Faith is a good thing and so long as it does not condemn others gives comfort and peace. I respect people of all faiths.

The idea of a personal God, steeped so deeply in Western society, is actually a minority view of God. The Christian idea of the Trinity or even “God the Father” is alien to most other cultures. In Islam God is seen as unbounded, infinite and beyond thought. In Buddhism God, can be viewed as the One the paramatman. In Hinduism with all of their many Gods, there is Brahman which is not a God but, again, the undivided “One”.

Why do I not believe in a personal God? Because I cannot believe that a being which was all knowing and all powerful could be anything like a man. Moreover, there is no evidence that there is a benevolent force in the universe which intercedes for us. Innocent babies get cancer and die in agony, wars kill millions of children and nothing stands in the way.

This is not to say that there is no benevolence in the world. There is empathy and compassion even among animals. Loving-kindness and compassion are the only forces which can ease the pain of an indifferent universe.

This is why.

๑ Samsaran ๑

Holy Saturday – 15 April – The Lord’s descent into hell 

 The Creed proclaims “He descended into Hell.”    This homily for Holy Saturday from the 4th Century treats of the “harrowing of hell” and the rescue of Adam and Eve.  Note the parallels between Adam and Eve’s sin, which lost paradise for us and the passion of Christ, which won for us not simply an earthly paradise, but eternal life.   It was to the Limbo of the Fathers that Christ descended, a place of the dead that was emptied through His Passion, Resurrection and Ascension and no longer exists.   By this “Harrowing of Hell,” as His Descent is sometimes called, the doors to Heaven were swung open so that those who die in a state of grace may enter in, alleluia!   Adam, Eve, Noah, Abraham, Moses, the good thief on the cross — all the righteous were illuminated by the Presence of Christ in the place of death, making Sheol itself a paradise.   They remained there with Him until His Bodily Resurrection when the the “bars of Hell” were broken down and they were later able to enter into Heaven itself with His glorious Ascension.

“What is happening? Today there is a great silence over the earth, a great silence, and stillness, a great silence because the King sleeps; the earth was in terror and was still, because God slept in the flesh and raised up those who were sleeping from the ages. God has died in the flesh, and the underworld has trembled.

Truly he goes to seek out our first parent like a lost sheep; he wishes to visit those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death. He goes to free the prisoner Adam and his fellow-prisoner Eve from their pains, he who is God, and Adam’s son.

The Lord goes in to them holding his victorious weapon, his cross. When Adam, the first created man, sees him, he strikes his breast in terror and calls out to all: ‘My Lord be with you all.’ And Christ in reply says to Adam: ‘And with your spirit.’ And grasping his hand he raises him up, saying: ‘Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give you light.

‘I am your God, who for your sake became your son, who for you and your descendants now speak and command with authority those in prison: Come forth, and those in darkness: Have light, and those who sleep: Rise.

‘I command you: Awake, sleeper, I have not made you to be held a prisoner in the underworld. Arise from the dead; I am the life of the dead. Arise, O man, work of my hands, arise, you who were fashioned in my image. Rise, let us go hence; for you in me and I in you, together we are one undivided person.

‘For you, I your God became your son; for you, I the Master took on your form; that of slave; for you, I who am above the heavens came on earth and under the earth; for you, man, I became as a man without help, free among the dead; for you, who left a garden, I was handed over to Jews from a garden and crucified in a garden.

‘Look at the spittle on my face, which I received because of you, in order to restore you to that first divine inbreathing at creation. See the blows on my cheeks, which I accepted in order to refashion your distorted form to my own image.

‘See the scourging of my back, which I accepted in order to disperse the load of your sins which was laid upon your back. See my hands nailed to the tree for a good purpose, for you, who stretched out your hand to the tree for an evil one.

`I slept on the cross and a sword pierced my side, for you, who slept in paradise and brought forth Eve from your side. My side healed the pain of your side; my sleep will release you from your sleep in Hades; my sword has checked the sword which was turned against you.

‘But arise, let us go hence. The enemy brought you out of the land of paradise; I will reinstate you, no longer in paradise, but on the throne of heaven. I denied you the tree of life, which was a figure, but now I myself am united to you, I who am life. I posted the cherubim to guard you as they would slaves; now I make the cherubim worship you as they would God.

“The cherubim throne has been prepared, the bearers are ready and waiting, the bridal chamber is in order, the food is provided, the everlasting houses and rooms are in readiness; the treasures of good things have been opened; the kingdom of heaven has been prepared before the ages.”

A reading from an ancient homily for Holy Saturday – prepared by Pontifical University Saint Thomas Aquinas, Rome.   While it appears that this comes from a Holy Saturday homily written in Greek dating back to the fourth century liturgy (PG 43, 439, 462f), the author of this text is unknown.


For our Edification – what does Hell mean?

Christ is in His tomb. Rather, His Body is in the tomb but when His Soul left His Body, He descended into Hell to “free the captives.”    “Hell” here refers to the place of the dead in general (“Sheol” in the Hebrew, or “Hades” in the Greek), not to the place of torment with which the word “Hell” is most usually associated with today.    The world “Hell” in the loosest, earliest sense includes:1.     the Limbo of the Fathers, the place for those who were righteous by charity and faith in the coming Messiah and who died before His Coming

2.     the Limbo of Infants, where, possibly, those who are sent who die without personal guilt but without Baptism after the time of Christ, or who died without charity and faith in the coming Messiah before the time of Christ.    This would be a place of beautiful, natural happiness, no punishment and no sensible suffering.

3.     Purgatory, where righteous people go to be cleansed of the temporal effects of their sins

4.     Gehenna, the “Hell of the Lost,” the eternal place of punishment for the damned, the place we usually refer to as simply “Hell” today


~a one shot where Logan doesn’t rest and Patton just wants him to do self care~

warnings: none I think??

Logan pushed up his glasses, refocusing his gaze on the page’s small print. He was almost halfway through Les Miserables after having focused almost all of his time over the past two days on it. He was on the part where Marius was listening to the Jondrettes’ plans to con people through the thin walls of his flat, and he predicted that the dishonest family would somehow find him out soon. However, it was a little bit hard for him to focus uninterrupted on the words, since an unholy shouting was coming from the adjacent living room. The only vaguely melodic voice belonged to none other than Roman, who seemed to be rehearsing his own cover of Idina Menzel’s “Let It Go.” However, in typical Roman fashion, he never stopped to correct his off-key notes or consider what was happening around him. He did not once exit the living room to see if anyone was sleeping, or reading, or valued their quiet time. Logan rolled his eyes, focusing yet again on the same sentence he had tried to read three times previously. He only got to the word “Jondrette” in the middle of the sentence when a glaringly sharp “let it GO” tore him from the book once again. Placing the book face down on the couch between himself and Morality, who was sitting next to him and softly humming, he took a deep, exasperated breath.
“Scientifically speaking, Roman, when distracted by background noise, it is almost impossible for one to keep their undivided attention on only one task!” Logan sighed loudly, keeping his eyes pointed skyward and frowning. For a minute he received no response, but then Roman came out of the living room brushing his perfect hair backwards as though to fix a flaw that was not actually there.
“My dear friend Logan, whatever do you mean?” Roman grinned from ear to ear, cockiness written all over his contoured face.
“I mean, Roman, that your shouting is keeping me from fully processing this masterpiece.” Logan retorted, emphasizing the “shouting.” Roman immediately brought his hand to his heart, a melodramatically offended look crossing his face.
“Well, I never, Logan!” he gasped, his mouth still hanging open and his eyebrows furrowed. “I am blessing all of your ears with my powerful rendition of THIS masterpiece! I am absolutely killing it, SLAYING IT, just like I did the Dragon Witch! This is an outrage!”
“Yeah, that’s nice, Princey, but some of us are trying to sleep in this house,” came a surly voice from the stairs. There was Anxiety, sitting in his usual spot, in his usual sprawled position with the circles under his eyes darker than they’d ever been before. “I was finally not thinking about my impending death when your screaming made me want to make yours happen.”
Patton turned towards Anxiety, sternly pointing a finger at the edgelord.
“Now now, play nice!” He then turned to Roman, a gentle look softening his features. “Roman, Anxiety might be right this time. Not about your impending death, but about sleep! Not only is- was- Anxiety resting, but Thomas was up really late last night worrying about today’s audition-”
“With which I’m sure you were no help, Anxiety,” Logan jumped in, peering over the rim of his glasses at the edgelord.
“And he’s finally asleep right now. We need to let Thomas have a nap, okay?” Roman curled his lip in disdain, holding his face like that for a few seconds before letting out a dramatic puff of air.
“Fine! I’ll just have to try again later, when you’re all awake to hear what I have to offer.” With that, he flipped his hair and sauntered back into the living room.
“Well, I’m going back to sleep. Have a terrible night. Hate you all.” Anxiety grumbled before trudging back up the stairs. As Anxiety’s stomping grew farther away, Morality opened his mouth to speak.
“Logan, can I ask you something?” he questioned, his head cocked to one side.
“I believe you just did, Morality, but if you need to ask something else I see no reason why not.” Logan answered, wondering why Morality would ask a question like that. Morality took a deep breath in and then continued to speak.
“Okay. When I was awake at about three in the morning last night scrolling through Pinterest, I could see from my bedroom you sitting up on the couch and not looking like you were sleeping at all. Did you sleep at all last night?”
Logan furrowed his brow and tried to remember. He had not, in fact, slept at all the previous night, having been too invested in his book to stop for sleep.
“I did not; I simply have an appreciation for this book and failed to see a need to stop reading it at the time.” he offered, guessing from Morality’s slightly parted lips and raised eyebrows that he was concerned. “Why are you making that face?”
“Because the night before that you were up helping Thomas memorize his lines, and I don’t think you slept then either.”
Logan shrugged. “I knew that he needed help more than I needed sleep.”
Morality smiled his cheeky, gap-toothed smile that Logan always found himself wanting to see more of however much he felt it annoyed him.
“Logan honey, you are very sweet for helping him and I’m glad you love your book, but you need to sleep, okay?”
Logan put down his book- by then he had long since stopped trying to read past the same sentence- and looked Morality in the eye.
“Morality, I promise you I will try to sleep when it is nighttime. It is, however, only four in the afternoon.” Morality scooted a little closer to Logan and looked at him with large, dewy, pleading eyes. Obviously, the purpose of this expression was to appeal to Logan’s emotion so he would comply.
“Pleeeease, Logan? For me?” Logan picked up his book again and ventured beyond the long-lasting sentence- finding out that there was a small hole in the wall between Jondrette and Marius’s flats- before noticing out of the corner of his eye that Morality was still fixing him with the puppy dog eyes. Logan sighed, putting down his book and turning his body to face Morality.
“Since my two options here seem to be either you continuing to keep after me, or acquiesce to you and catch up on sleep, I choose to preserve some of my sanity and do the latter.”
Morality’s eyes immediately lit up like those of a child receiving a present. “Yayyyy!” Logan rolled his eyes and lay down on his back, bending his legs to the side so Morality still had room to sit. He slowly let his eyes shut, feeling his body relax already. However much he hated to admit it, maybe Morality had been right about his need for sleep. Just as he let his head loll to the side, he was interrupted from his state of relaxation by Morality’s soft whisper.
“Are you cold? Do you want my cardigan? How about a blanket? Or cuddle up to me! I’ll keep you warm! I’m comfy, I promise! I love cuddles! They’re so sweet, and so are you, and-”
“I will stay awake just to spite you should you continue,” Logan mumbled, enunciating every word. Whether Logan felt spiteful or not, though, his body was growing more exhausted by the second without any distractions to keep him from his sleepiness. He quickly gave into it, feeling himself become less aware of his surroundings. The last thing he felt was something warm and soft being draped over his whole body- a blanket. Knowing Morality had put it there, Logan let out a soft moan as a thank you before drifting off to sleep.
Morality smiled as Logan made the softest noise from under the thick fleece blanket. He really had been too tired, and Morality was glad to help him get to sleep. Although Morality really wanted to hug and cuddle him, he was glad just to have him close by. He always filled his heart with butterflies and made him almost speechless.
Looking at Logan again, Morality noticed that he still had his glasses on. He smiled to himself and reached to take them off so they wouldn’t get squished while Logan slept. Putting the glasses on the table in front of the couch where Logan could find them later, Morality reached back towards his face and brushed the stray hair off his forehead. He smiled as Logan moved slightly towards him in his sleep, curled into the fetal position and lying so that his knee touched Morality’s. All Morality could think of for the rest of the night was how smitten he was with Logan.

Two Of Us (6.99)
The Beatles

January 6th, 1969 (Twickenham Film Studios, London): Paul, more out of desperation than decisiveness, proposes they resolve everyone’s conflicting working methods by allowing each one of them have undivided creative direction over their own compositions (which the others would then have to follow). George agrees with this solution, but John (having always had a more instinctive approach, as opposed to building songs brick by deliberate brick) suggests they continue to improvise. Paul briefly muses about the metaphysical nature of this discord.

PAUL: [inaudible; drowned out by guitar] —of seeing yourself nearly go round a past you’ve been down too many times, you know I go down it, you know, like us going on about this. I really don’t want to go back to that. And it’s just silly. And I just can’t think of any solution out of here. The problem is that we should all arrange our own tunes, and if you want improvisation, then we should just say, you know, right, and—

GEORGE: That’s the best way.

PAUL: —and we improvise here. But look, it puts on much more work on each one of us, then, because then you’ve got to work out my bassline.

JOHN: I’d say improvise it, like.

PAUL: Yeah. [laughs bleakly] It’s like a bunch of theories, isn’t it? It’s like, it’s not just to do with playing music, this. It’s far further reaching, this sort of – this thing, you know.

GEORGE: It’s always the far reaching end of it. It stems from the mad thing they call— [audio cuts off]

Holy God, We Praise Thy Name

Holy God, we praise Thy Name;
Lord of all, we bow before Thee!
All on earth Thy scepter claim,
All in Heaven above adore Thee;
Infinite Thy vast domain, Everlasting is Thy reign.

Hark! the loud celestial hymn
Angel choirs above are raising,
Cherubim and seraphim,
In unceasing chorus praising;
Fill the heavens with sweet accord: Holy, holy, holy, Lord.

Lo! the apostolic train
Join the sacred Name to hallow;
Prophets swell the loud refrain,
And the white robed martyrs follow;
And from morn to set of sun, Through the Church the song goes on.

Holy Father, Holy Son,
Holy Spirit, Three we name Thee;
While in essence only One,
Undivided God we claim Thee;
And adoring bend the knee, While we own the mystery.

Thou art King of glory,
Christ: Son of God, yet born of Mary;
For us sinners sacrificed,
And to death a tributary:
First to break the bars of death, Thou has opened Heaven to faith.

From Thy high celestial home,
Judge of all, again returning,
We believe that Thou shalt come
In the dreaded doomsday morning;
When Thy voice shall shake the earth, And the startled dead come forth.

Spare Thy people, Lord, we pray,
By a thousand snares surrounded:
Keep us without sin today,
Never let us be confounded.
Lo, I put my trust in Thee; Never, Lord, abandon me.

Summary: A oneshot/imagine where Jim and the reader (a medical officer, Bones’ right hand) have a 6yo boy. They both have to deal with their kid and Starfleet at the same time and it’s kinda exhausting. - anon

Notes: This one is a lot longer than I though I’d be tbh. It was a wonderful topic so thank you anon! Enjoy guys <3

Word count: 2355

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anonymous asked:

yay open asks! Can I get Diavolo and Doppio with an s/o with recovering anxiety? my love for these two runs so deep, can be either seperate or poly, either works!

- Diavolo is all tough love about it. When he sees any signs of your panic attacks coming he’s aggressively grabbing and shoving you away from whatever scenario you guys may be in. Be it public or a meeting. Away you went to somewhere quiet and safe.
- Doppio would be the one that gives you the undivided care and attention. Asking you if you’re ok, calling up boss to ask what to do, buying you little gifts and trinkets to remind you he’s always there for you.
- Doppio would be the kind that when you see his bright smile or awkward laughter you know its going to be ok. And Diavolo is someone who when you see his towering figure, you’re assured that he will Make it ok.
- They take turns taking care of you too, often asking if you “ rather be with Boss” today or “ Want to hang out with Doppio” after all, they’re two different people and they know you sometimes need different things out of each of them.
- When they’re out for missions they always leave you little notes around the place or plan deliveries or events to help remind you to cheer up or comfort you in case.
- Like Doppio would leave you a nice planner of places you can go for lunch with the meal already payed in advance anonymously, or post-its placed around the residences with little motivational words telling you how much he loves you.
- Diavolo wouldn’t be so obvious about it, half relying on Doppio to do the work for him, yet also doing little things for you, like stocking up the fridge before leaving or scheduling bank transfers from random accounts to you with super small notes on it like “ For dinner.” or “ Buy yourself a movie”
- Of course, having a stand like King Crimson meant that when any situations they know might trigger a relapse for you, they use those few seconds to get you to a safe place before haphazardly explaining what happened. 
- Nights are never lonely or cold anymore, Doppio would always cuddly by you with a thick blanket and hot cocoa, and Diavolo would tightly hug you with his big, warm body telling you not to be scared. He could, would, and wants to protect you. So he will.

moving on to Frank Iero as Remus

I wasted time with a crooked spine
When I really should have spent it with you

All I want is nothing
Cause all I want is what I can’t have
All I want is nothing
If I can’t have just one more second of your undivided attention

All I have now are memories
Of how you felt lying next to me
All we are is a memory
I used to have a best friend,
Now just one more enemy


I never told you what I saw in the dark
I set fire to the person I was
(I’m not built for love,
I’m not good enough)
I’m unappreciative of the air that I breathe
I’m unaware of the blood in my veins
(I’m not built for love,
I’m not good enough)

You can’t cure me,
Drugs can’t kill me,
Love won’t save me from myself

Enlightenment, awakening, liberation, nonduality—so many fancy words to confuse us. So many different conceptual formulations or pointers: “You are not the body,” “There’s no self,” “All is One,” “Nothing is really happening,” “Everything is Consciousness.” So many different instructions to try to follow: Be here now, Stand as Awareness, Identify as Awareness, Stop thinking, Let Go, Rest as presence, Pay attention, Do nothing, Relax, Surrender, Be mindful, Give up trying to be mindful, Meditate, Don’t meditate. It’s easy to get confused. The habitual way of tackling all of this is to try to figure it all out and “get a grip” mentally by thinking and analyzing and trying to understand it all, and/or by trying to have some special experience other than the one that is happening now.

But this is all so simple. Whatever is happening right now is happening by itself, effortlessly: reading, thinking, hearing, seeing, breathing, digesting, moving, sensing, awaring. Can we pause for a moment and simply notice this happening right now that is going on effortlessly? Even what we experience as “our own effort” is happening effortlessly by itself. Can that be noticed? This eternal present is one whole undivided happening, even though it has many different colors and shapes and textures, and even though thought can identify many different and apparently independent objects: chairs, tables, people, dogs, cats, clouds, stars. But look more deeply, and it can be seen that none of these objects exist independently of everything else in the universe, and that all of these different things are ever-changing appearances in (and of) consciousness. They show up as one whole moving picture, one seamless happening. Don’t take that on as a new belief, but give attention to the living reality Here / Now and see for yourself how it is.

Thought can label this happening and all the different things that appear here—we have stories and theories and beliefs about cause and effect and how things happen and what they mean—scientific stories, religious stories, all kinds of stories. And these stories and theories and beliefs can all be questioned and doubted, and different people will hold conflicting beliefs and give differing descriptions of “the same” phenomenon, and over the centuries some of our apparent certainties may change. The flat earth turns out to be round, the earth goes around the sun, and so on. But the bare happening itself—before the labels and the stories about it—that is beyond doubt.

And this awaring presence that is right here beholding it all—this knowingness of being here now—this is also impossible to doubt. We can doubt our ideas about it, but not the bare actuality of being here, being present, being aware.

We may think that we are a person who is aware, that awareness is a function of the brain, that we are looking out at a world that exists independently of us, but the more closely we look, the more this deeply conditioned story about the nature of reality doesn’t actually hold up. What exactly is this person? Where are the boundaries? Is this the same person that was here 60 years ago, or even 5 minutes ago? What exactly is “my body”? Where does it begin and end? Does it stay the same from one second to the next? Is there an actual boundary between “me” and “not me,” or between inside and outside? Can any such boundary be found in direct experience? And if it seems that we’ve found such a boundary, how solid is it and where exactly does it begin and end, and what is beholding it? Doesn’t this body appear in awareness along with the chairs and tables, the dog and cat, the sky, the trees, the whole universe? Can an actual place be found where awareness ends and the body (or the cat, or the sky, or the tree) begins, or vice versa? Is there any actual boundary or division between subject and object, seer and seen, or is the reality undivided seeing-being? Don’t answer any of these questions from belief, and don’t rely on what anyone else says, but explore all of this directly for yourself. Look and listen. Feel into it. Discover for yourself.

That’s what true meditation and true inquiry (as I use the words) are really all about—not sitting in the lotus position trying not to move and concentrating on our breathing or asking ourselves over and over, “Who am I?” – but simply BEING Here / Now – looking and listening, questioning, wondering – not by thinking, but by paying attention, by being aware, by BEING awareness.

Is it possible to be here in this moment without an agenda, without needing to define what’s happening, without seeking something different, without judging what’s showing up or trying to control it any way—just being here? What is that like, to simply be here?

Is it possible to explore Here / Now without knowing what might be found? Can we simply feel this presence, this aliveness? Can we explore directly what we are referring to when we say “I”? What do we mean when we say, “I am”? Superficially, we are referring to an apparent person—this body, this mind, this personality, this “me” that has a name, a gender, a race, a nationality, an age, a story. But more deeply, if all of that disappeared, what would remain? Is it possible that the “I” to which we all refer is—at its depth—exactly the same I, the same boundless awaring presence?

Can we feel the spaciousness, the openness, the fluidity, the freedom that is Here / Now?

And if we can’t, or don’t think we can, then can we simply be with whatever IS showing up, just as it is? And whenever the sense of being separate shows up—when we feel hurt or defensive or angry or victimized or upset or misunderstood or overwhelmed or attacked or afraid or lacking or unworthy—can we explore directly what is going on? Can we hear the thoughts without being totally seduced into believing them? Can we recognize that they are a conditioned commentary and not an objective report on reality? Can we find the “me” who seems to be thinking these thoughts, the “me” who seems to be angry or lacking or who feels insulted or misunderstood—or is that “me” simply a bunch of changing thoughts, sensations, memories and mental images? Can we feel the bodily sensations without judging any of it or trying to change it in any way? Can we question our beliefs, our assumptions, our certainties, our stories about ourselves, about others, and about the world? Can we simply be here in the midst of a tumultuous storm of emotion-thought, being and beholding it all, in the same way we might behold a thunderstorm, without taking it personally or giving it meaning?

We are this storming, it is inseparable from what we are and all that is, and we are also that which beholds the storm, that which remains when the storm has passed, that which is untouched by the storm. And if the thinking-seeking mind is now about to go out in search of “that,” trying to figure out what “that” is—can that movement be seen for what it is? It is an old habit, to seek what we already are, to try to grasp what is ungraspable, to try to find wholeness as an object—trying so hard to get to this place Here / Now that we have never left, and then trying not to try. Instead of following this old habit, is it possible instead to simply be here as this undeniable awaring presence and this undeniable present happening, however it is? Not forever after, but right now, in this moment: hearing, seeing, sensing, awaring, thinking, trying, tensing, relaxing, contracting, expanding, breathing, storming, calming, opening, closing—BEING this whole seamless happening, beholding it all. Discovering the openness that is open enough to include being closed, the freedom that is free to be limited, the vastness that is vast enough to include specificity, the oneness that appears as multiplicity, the timelessness that includes all of time—THIS—Here / Now, just as it is.

What is it? Any answer we give is just a sound—a word—a label. But THIS—the direct, living reality itself—is effortlessly and undeniably presenting itself. Explore it, enjoy it, BE it. And recognize finally that there is no way not to be it. It is all there is.

—  Joan Tollifson
Needs (James Wesley)

Trigger Warning: Anxiety Attack (I didn’t know if the anxiety stemmed from a PTSD type thing or was just about the storm so I just made it about the storm itself)

I’m sorry to anyone not in the Daredevil fandom who feels spammed by James Wesley posts but there is little to none in existence and currently he gives me the most creative vibes. He’s a great character. You all should watch Daredevil, it’s awesome and then you’d understand.

You shifted uneasily on the couch panic filling you as the weatherman announced that the city would be expecting severe thunderstorms. Severe thunderstorms happened to trigger your anxiety, a fact that Wesley was unaware of.

“You seem nervous? It’s just a thunderstorm.” Wesley assured from his position on your couch looking alarmingly relaxed without his tie or suit jacket. You really wished you could enjoy his evening off but the incoming clouds were making the room feel much smaller.

You wanted to reply with some snarky comment about how to him it was just a thunderstorm but to you it was something completely different. It was a nightmare.

“Don’t worr-” a shock of lightening illuminating the room interrupted your sentence and caused you leap up off the couch hyperventilating slightly as you anticipated the loud clap of thunder.

You sat with your knees to your chest having forgotten that Wesley was even in the room as the thunder rumbled on. Seeing you in such a fragile state triggered both his professional side and a feeling he couldn’t quite describe. 

“Y/N, are you having an anxiety attack? Do you need medication? An inhaler? More space? Less space?” Wesley unintentionally drilled you with questions, you supposed his job probably prepared him for this kind of thing. PA’s had to be prepared for anything.

“I just need it to pass.” You mumbled into your knees feeling Wesley get up and walk into your kitchen, another series of thunder and lightening shaking the room as you tried your best to cover your eyes and ears. You felt Wesley gently place his hand on your back as he sat besides you, knowing he was there did a great deal for calming you, his presence making you feel safer.

“I brought you a glass of water, it’s on the table.” He assured continuing to gently stroke your back as the sky released it’s rage upon the city.

“Thank you James, you’re too good to me.” You smiled slightly lifting your head to kiss his cheek. Wesley was as loyal to you as he was his employer and managed to always know exactly what you needed. Of course his employer occasionally had to take priority over you but it’s not like you were the one paying for Wesley’s undivided attention.

“Only because you’re too good for me.” He replied, you didn’t reply to him something he was glad for. He didn’t want to argue with you, not when you were upset like this. You didn’t know the extent of the truth of his statement, he was loyal to you yes, but also to one of the most successful crime bosses in the city. Just telling you his name out you at risk, he banished the thought though. You were worried about the storms let alone the truth of his occupation… 

“James.” You mumbled shyly. The man was an angel but often was guarded, awkward about intimacy so, you knew you needed to be careful about how you asked for this. He gave you a look signalling for you to continue as you took a deep breath, thunder interrupting you briefly.

“Can you just hold me, please?” You questioned trying not to add the worry of rejection to the anxiety already apparent on your face.

Wesley had a concerned look that flashed to a contemplating look briefly before he silently took you into his arms, situating you in his lap in a fashion that allowed you to stretch your legs out across the couch. He held you to his chest with one arm the other running through your hair as you fiddled with the buttons on his shirt flinching whenever a flash of lightening or a clap of thunder filled the room.

“Thank you James.” You said simply, although simple and repetitive it was what you had the strength to say and it still caused a smile to cross his face.

“Anything for you, no matter what you need.” He gently kissed your temple a bit unused to this kind of simple affection but quickly becoming comfortable with it as he felt you relax a little more and more despite the raging storm.

He held you like that until the storm passed, the comfortable silence allowing you to fall asleep while Wesley marveled in the fact that simply existing was all you needed from each other at the moment.

A/N: It never fails that I make these oddly so much about Wesley/more towards his POV but I always feel the need to explain his feelings/reasoning for things, partially so he doesn’t seem OOC but also because he’s just a fascinating character and I enjoy giving him multiple dimensions beyond just being Fisk’s loyal servant.

I’d love you guy’s opinions on that, do you like having Wesley’s thoughts in the writing or would you rather me just let it be??

Constructive Comments/Critiques are appreciated

BTS reaction to your water breaking!

Bts written reaction to your water breaking. If you can’t do all of them can you make sure to include namjoon? I love your account. Xoxo


You had been in the baby’s nursery all day long, wondering when your precious little princess was going to make her appearance. You were already 2 days past your due date, and there were no signs of her wanting to come out at any minute.

Jin tried to comfort you, telling you not to worry, and that she was probably just wanting to make a grandiose entrance, like the princess she was. You laughed at his joke, and you knew, deep in your heart, that Jin was over the moon with the idea of having a baby girl.

Suddenly, you doubled over in pain, as a sharp contraction hit you right in the stomach. You held your hands onto your stomach, and despite the sudden pang of pain, you smiled. You felt dampness trickling down your legs. You looked up to Jin smiling, who would have guessed the man would smile at a sight like this?

“It’s time! Where did you leave the hospital bag? I’m calling a taxi yeah? Let’s meet our princess!” He called, as he got everything ready, and you walked into your room to change your clothes.

“Let’s meet you, princess.” You whispered at your belly, as you changed into new panties and a clean dress.  Jin was right, your princess was trying to make a dramatic entrance, by being fashionably late.


You were at the studio with the guys, watching your husband Jimin record his vocal part in the booth. You were entranced, completely fascinated by his beautiful voice, which almost matched the great beauty of his soul.

You had Jin sitting beside you, looking completely exhausted from dance practice earlier, holding your hand, and asking you how long you had left until the baby was born. As soon as you and Jimin had told the rest of BTS about the baby, they had all suddenly become overly protective siblings to you, making sure you were comfortable and feeling alright at all moments of the day. It honestly felt like they were more excited about this baby than you were.

“Just two weeks I think.” You told him with a smile, as your hand gently rubbed your stomach in circles.

As soon as those words had left your mouth, you felt your lower abdomen begin to ache, and a dampness covered your jeans. Your eyes shot up to meet Jin’s, while your cheeks burned red with embarrassment.

Jin took two seconds to process everything that had happened, before standing up from the couch, and running into the booth, pulling a very panicked Jimin out.

Jimin ran to you, and checked you were okay, before grabbing your hand, and helping you stand up. He fumbled for the keys in his pocket, before he started to walk you to the car, with his trademark smile on his face, his eyes disappearing behind his lids, as he squealed to himself.



You were with Hoseok, relaxing on your couch, as you watched a movie. Hoseok had his arms neatly wrapped around you, holding you against his chest protectively. Ever since he had found out about the baby, he had become annoyingly overly protective, to the point it had made you yell at him for not letting you out of the house without his constant supervision.

But  you were glad he had become so sweet and caring, it was incredibly endearing, and it meant you could relax, and he would take over most of the important chores around the house, so he could ensure the safety of both his princesses.

You were laughing at something that had just happened on the movie you were watching, when you felt something drench your jeans completely. You looked down at your legs, and then yelled in surprise, making Hoseok jump back, and scream.

“WHAT WHAT HAPPENED?!” He yelled, clutching at his chest, over his heart, in sheer shock.

“My water broke!” You yelled back, a match made in heaven. Hoseok’s eyes widened thrice their size, and he began screaming incoherent sentences, which you managed to understand after years of dating him.

“THE BAG. THE KEYS. YOU NEED TO CHANGE. THE BABY IS IN THE BAG WE NEED TO CHANGE IN THE CAR FOR YOU TO SLEEP AT THE HOSPITAL!” He screamed, as he ran around the apartment, searching for things. You grabbed his shoulders, and shook him.

“HOSEOK SNAP OUT OF IT GRAB THE DAMN BAG AND SOME SWEATPANTS AND LET’S GO!” You yelled at him in his face, trying to get him to calm down immediately.

The moment you brought him out of his panicked haze, he calmed down immediately, and managed to get everything done so he could carry you to the car to get you to the hospital.


You were having dinner with the guys, a couple days before your due date, enjoying the last few moments of peace before your duties as parents began. Jungkook sat beside you, holding your hand not-so-subtly under the table, as he smiled and nodded at some new philosophical concept Namjoon had diverted towards, like he always did. You smiled, noticing how spaced out Jungkook was, each and every word slipping out of Namjoon’s mouth completely going over his head.

You squeezed his hand under the table, and suppressed a snicker. Jin looked at you from across the table, and smirked subtly, knowing exactly how you were feeling. You began making small talk with him, asking him what seasoning he had used on the chicken, which Jin gladly replied to, happy that someone had noticed the change in the recipe.

Just as you were asking Jin about the sauce, you felt something soak through your jeans, and seep through to the chair. You looked down at your pants in panic, Jin being the first to notice.

“Jungkook!” He yelled at the younger boy, who looked at him with wide yes. Jin pointed towards you. Jungkook looked at you, and then followed your gaze to your pants.

“Oh… Oh.. Babe… Did your water just… break? Now? Oh… OH MY GOD! JIN DRIVE US PLEASE JIN HOSPITAL!” Jungkook yelled, as he took his time to process what was happening. He grabbed your hand, and picked you up bridal style effortlessly, before heading out of the apartment, without even looking back. Jin had to stand up straight after, and chase after him with the hospital bag you always brought with you just in case, wondering how he could possibly look after a child, when he was acting like a child himself.

Rap Monster

It was a month before your due date, but honestly, you already felt bloated enough. Your ankles were swollen, your back ached from the extra weight, and you felt uncomfortable all around. You could safely admit you were more than prepared to deliver the baby already.

Namjoon was at some TV show, talking about his new single, and the album, and occasionally answering questions about you, you assumed. Ever since you two got married, there wasn’t a single interview your name didn’t pop up. Sometimes it flattered you, sometimes it annoyed you. Needless to say, that although some fans of his adored you in every way possible, there were others that hated your guts, which was a bit of an inconvenience and a nuisance.

You stared at the clock on your wall, a little exhausted, and at the same time a little restless. You were bored, ever since the doctors had told you that you had to be on bed rest, Namjoon had been adamant that you obey their orders, not wanting to risk your safety or the child’s.

Suddenly, you feel some drip down your legs, and as you stare down, you notice, with some excitement, that your water had just broken. You squealed in excitement, despite the sharp pain that took over your body. You couldn’t wait to meet your little one.

So ignoring the fact that he was on business, because let’s be honest, what is one single interview when he has the chance to see  his own child be born? You dialed his number, and dismissed his scolding about being at work.

“Oh, alright then, I guess I’ll go to the hospital alone and deliver the baby by myself.” You replied sassily, trying to surprise him. You heard the line go silent, the faint echoes of Hoseok’s words bouncing back to you.

“OH MY GOD DON’T MOVE I AM GOING RIGHT NOW” You heard his voice faintly yell at you, followed by some rustling and moving of things, and you were sure you heard something break, as Namjoon explained to someone that his wife was about to have his baby and that the interview would have to continue without him.

You laughed, rubbing your belly, glad to finally be able to meet the little one that had been growing inside you for so long.


You were waiting for him backstage, sitting on a cushioned couch, as your legs swung back and forth. You could barely see your feet anymore when you stood up, your large belly covered them completely.

You could hear BTS’s voices fill the venue, as they performed once again to a happy crowd. You could feel the beat pulsating through you, making your ribcage vibrate. You probably shouldn’t have been at a concert venue at such a late stage in your pregnancy, but Suga had insisted you needed to be close to him, in case anything happened.

You watched him return backstage more times than were necessary, under the excuse that he needed water, or a wardrobe change, just to check up on you, and although it made you feel warm and fuzzy inside, you felt bad for his fans, they were the ones that deserved his undivided attention right now.

You were peacefully humming along to Jimin’s lines, when you felt a sharp pang of pain, that had you doubled over, a scream drowned in your throat. You clutched at your belly, feeling your water break, drenching your clothes. How embarrassing.

You looked around, trying to find someone who would help you out. Being a mother for the first time left you with some unresolved doubts, but you were sure this signaled the baby was coming, and you needed to get to the hospital. A young woman, possibly a stylist, noticed your state, and quickly found some new pants to replace your damaged ones, before alerting one of the men backstage.

You tried to stop the man, dreading for the performance, but your stomach prevented you from moving at a high speed. The man was lost on stage, and faster than you could fathom, Suga was running off stage, straight towards you, as he pulled out all the wires and cables he had on him.

“Suga, the show.” You whined, trying to push him back towards the stage, but he limited himself to shaking his head, and pushing you towards the back door, where a taxi was waiting.

“There will be more shows, but only one birth of my baby.” He replied, and although he tried to maintain a business like, and serious expression, you could see the corners of his mouth curling up in glee and excitement.

“Let’s go have a baby then.” You told him, lacing your fingers through his, as he helped you get into the car, a wide gummy grin spreading across his face.

“let’s.” he replied, before jumping in the car next to you.


You were getting the final details of the baby’s nursery fixed, after having carefully decorated the room with some help from Taehyung, when it happened.

“Jagi! I think we should put this dinosaur plushie here!” he exclaimed, grabbing the purple dinosaur he had bought, and putting it atop a dresser. You glared at it, because the color was so obnoxious, and it clashed so badly with the soothing, neutral colors of the room, you couldn’t believe you had let Taehyung convince you to buy such an abomination.

But Taehyung had used his puppy eye look with you, knowing how well it worked, and he had looked so excited and happy about it, you couldn’t help but feel the need to make him happy. Damn you and your love for cute things.

“Okay, put it there then. Can you please put those books on the shelf? I can’t reach.” You told him, handing him a small collection of short bedtime stories for your child. Usually you would have just stood on the stool, but the last time you tried to do that with Taehyung around, he had a massive go at you, and told you off for being so irresponsible.

Just as you were handing the books over, you felt the sudden dampness that could only signify one thing. The baby was ready. Taehyung stared at you in confusion-

“Ah… Jagi… did you just pee yourself?” He asked, pointing towards your sweatpants. You rolled your eyes at him, before walking over to your room to get changed quickly.

“No, stupid, my water just broke.” You told him nonchalantly. Taehyung’s eyes widened triple their size, before he began jumping up and down, screaming, and pulling you by the arm.
“WE DON’THAVE TIME FOR FASHION MY BABY IS COMING LET’S GO! LET’S GO!” He yelled, as he pulled you towards the car, with your head barely through the new sweatshirt you put on, and you laughed, he really was just a large child himself. Oh joy, you would have to look after two Taehyungs now…

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The Arsonist Protection Job (DC TV/Leverage)

Couple caveats:
1) I find this season’s treatment of Mick to be very disturbing so consider this an expression of catharsis
2) I’ve never written Leverage before, and
3) I actually never got around to watching the final season of Leverage
Hopefully this remains an enjoyable fic despite all that.

Title: The Arsonist Protection Job
Fandom: DC TV, Leverage
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3976
Characters: Mick, Eliot, Parker, Hardison, minor appearances by everyone else
Summary: Following Holding On by @robininthelabyrinth. After Eliot makes good on his promise of getting Mick away from the Legends, he, Parker and Hardison run interference on Mick’s teammates. Except for one.

“You’re not answering any doors while you’re here.”

Mick rolled his eyes- not that he was eager to play host in someone else’s place. “Are you gonna put me under house arrest, too?”

Eliot gave him a look. “You’re in a building with a brew pub, a fully stocked private kitchen and gym upstairs and a fire pit in the yard- what’d you wanna go out for?”

“If he wants to go out, I can take him!” Parker offered cheerily. She considered Mick as if mentally calculating something. “Do you like scaling buildings?”

Keep reading


From that flutter, perhaps this mech wasn’t a completely genocidal egotistical warlord, but something of a softer mold than whatever Megatron he knew had stepped from.

But he was taking that servo in his own delicate one to give an almost reassuring shake. After all, this one had his undivided attention. Blue optics? Wings? Emotions? What kind of Megatron was he dealing with here?

“Trepan, of The Pious Pools. A pleasure”

“The pleasure is mine, I assure you.” Megatron smiled back, his EM-field open and welcoming. He gently squeezed Trepan’s hand, making sure not to press too tightly, afraid of injuring the smaller mech unintentionally. 

“I’ve heard about the Pious Pools, though I’ve never had the pleasure of visiting. If mechs from there are like you, I sense I’m missing out.” He teased, hoping to make up for his earlier call-out. It had been rather rude. 

“So, you mentioned I remind you of someone? A pleasant someone, I hope.” 

My problem with the [neo]-reformers is that they do not take sovereignty serious enough.  

Repeat after me: God does not have to pay homage to lady justice in order to forgive sins.

The words of Elder Ephraim of Philotheou come to mind:

“For goodness’ sake! Do you think that Christ our God, the ocean of compassion and mercy, is incapable of lifting the weight of one sinful soul? What is a handful of sand when thrown in the ocean? It is nothing; it disappears. Does even a single grain remain visible on the surface of the water? Not at all. This is precisely what happens with all the sins of humanity. They are a zero in comparison to the abyss of God’s compassion.”

The heart of the gospel is that God took the initiative in Christ to trample upon death by death and upon those in the tombs bestowing life.  It’s the opportunity to participate in the transfiguration of the cosmos, of which we are the first fruits if we choose to enter into that narrative–nothing about juridical justification.

This is one of the disastrous things about separating oneself from the Church.  When you want to know what the kerygma of the Church is, listen to what she prays.  “The Trinity is one in essence and undivided”, as we pray during the liturgy of St. John Chrysostom every mini-pascha [sunday].  In whom there is no darkness [1 John 1:5].  The trinity exists in mutual kenotic love.  To separate the Trinity to pit the Father against the son to satisfy God’s ‘holy wrath’ in order to love you is self-defeating and rather toxic/schizophranic. Believe in Molech if you will, but call him Molech, not justice.

tl;dr: Unite yourself to the Church. Identify yourself as one radically beloved of God. That is the true self. God is not mad at you. 

AkaKuro Fanfiction Recommendations

Ok so since I don’t see many of these, here’s a few AkaKuro fics that I really enjoyed and would recommend! I hope you enjoy them as much as I did and still do~ 

(This is taken from my fanfic rec list on my blog if you wanna check that out) [I’m sorry if I don’t get all the trigger warnings down, I may have missed some ;n;]

One day, Seirin realizes Kuroko’s strange behavior. Kuroko comes day after day to practice, harboring more injuries than before. Is Kuroko holding a dark secret? Determined to find out, Seirin investigates in Kuroko’s life, soon to find something shocking. But GoM are already on their move. Overprotective!GoM. Warnings of abuse and language.

  • Moros - (Finished) (Rated T [13+])

“You will come to Rakuzan with me. That is all.” With those words, Kuroko was whisked away from all he has known his entire life. But even so, he would continue to cherish what he has grown to love, basketball.

If the Kuroko from two months ago had met the Kuroko from the future and heard that he would fall for a red-haired genius who carries the air of a fairy-tale prince, whose family owns multi-billion dollar companies, but most importantly who is working as his boss at a coffee shop, Kuroko would tell his future self that the vanilla shakes are beginning to mess with his brain and perhaps even cut himself off from the beverage for the remainder of his life. Yet here he is, sitting in the back seat of a limousine holding the entirety of one Akashi Seijuurou’s undivided attention in his hands, and he is not about to wake up from a dream with an unsightly amount of bedhead.

  • Futari - (Finished) (OneShot) (Rated suitable for everyone)

Kuroko Tetsuya has always been in love with his childhood friend, Akashi Seijuurou. What happens when Akashi suddenly told him that he’s in love?

Going to university was going to be fun… and yet all Kuroko sees is tongues down throats, energetic people, assessments, and an intriguing crimson haired male.

After a series of events and self-discovery, Kuroko isn’t sure if he’ll be able to find love in his life. However, after meeting Akashi Seijuurou in more than one situation, he grows more agitated and unsure of his feelings.

  • Beast - (Finished) (Rated Mature [nsfw] tw: graphic depictions of violence, wounds, blood)

Dogs are useful beasts. Teach them anything, teach them well, and they can do just about anything for absolutely nothing in return. Get them young and the more obedient and loyal they are. Give them a word of praise, a pat on the head, and they light up like you just gave them the world. AU.

People say that perfection doesn’t exist, but Kuroko Tetsuya begs to differ; for he has met it more than once in his life.

It’s the morning of the Winter Cup finals. Again. (An AkaKuro time loop story.)

Kuroko’s life hangs over the precipice of ice crystals and fogged glass windows, streams of blinding lights muted by blood. It’s all about those dying breaths and the way his eyes fog over like winter frost as the chills creeps into his skin; his bones; his heart.

In which Kuroko Tetsuya is a best-selling novelist, Akashi Seijuuro is his editor, and who said best-sellers had to be well-written anyway?

  • Let the Right One In - (I think it is unfinished) (Rated Mature [nsfw] tw: implied alcoholism, slight violence, wounds, blood)

Akashi always thought humans were akin to bugs but after moving in to a small town and meeting an enigma of a boy who has his own dark secrets, he is forced to change his mind. AkaKuro. Werewolf AU

AU. Akashi takes a liking to being cared for once in a while. After all, only one person can truly make him feel better.

Kuroko’s only sixteen when he enters Emperor Akashi’s household as one of his Imperial Consorts. And to survive, he either has to gain the title of His Majesty’s favourite, or live the rest of his life away in abandonment.

  • Tetsu-mama - (Unfinished) (Rated suitable for everyone)

Due to an influential stalker, Kuroko has been trying to get a steady job for more than a year. In an attempt to help, Aida assigns him as the baby sitter of the adopted kids of her boss. Not knowing who the boss was, he took the job. If only he knew what exactly he was getting himself into.

Vampire AU. It all started when Kuroko Tetsuya, an ordinary teenage boy with a weak presence, caught the interest of one powerful vampire named Akashi Seijuurou.

In which the Generation of Miracles try to get Akashi and Kuroko to get together.

Sometimes things are exactly as they seem. Sometimes they’re not. And sometimes they’re unimaginable.

Kuroko runs into Akashi again in college only to find out it’s no coincidence at all.

Akashi receives a call in the middle of the night from an old friend.

One rainy day, Akashi decides that he’s waited long enough and invites Kuroko over to his place. Feelings and emotions culminate into one explosive encounter…

  • Haute Couture - (A series of OneShots, not finished yet) (Story 1 rated T, story 2: rated M, story 3: rated Explicit [nsfw])

A slightly less-than-thrilling epic journey of Kise screwing up, Kuroko finding out Akashi’s secret interests, and Akashi being Akashi.

Yes, Kuroko liked watching people, but not like this. Not the way he was now, rooted to the spot, his gaze fixated on Akashi’s exposed backside.

  • Parallels - (Finished) (Rated Mature [slight nsfw])

In an Alternate Universe, a series of random events cause Akashi and Kuroko to fall in love and become live-in lovers. In canon-verse, Akashi and Kuroko are in college, but their relationship was no better than it was before. What happens when canon-verse Akashi and AU!Akashi switch places? Will Akashi learn to love Kuroko? Will Kuroko learn to love Akashi?

In a perfect world where He is a god, He creates Akashi to grace Earth in His place.

That one fanfic where Kuroko drives to classes because he’s sick of getting elbows in his face on the train, tries to understand Nijimura’s crude hand-me-down bible of Exploring Professional Communication because his classmates Kise and Aomine are slacker idiots with different priorities, tries not to get caught up with the university’s Student Council President crises, and finds out that the guy who parks next to him—yes, that guy with the Mercedes Benz and red hair, is also trying to get his vote since he’s running for presidency too. This should end well.

Kuroko caught a glimpse of the dragon’s ghastly face: steam sizzling out of the two wide nostrils, a slightly gaping jaw where rows of jagged ivory teeth were silhouetted by a glowing orange light deeper within its throat, and two mismatched eyes; one eye, a brilliant scarlet red to match the splendor of his scales, and the other, golden in color.

And though he knew it was not possible to see him, Kuroko still shuddered as those mismatched eyes with their slit pupils swept over him. His skin felt like it was burning under the intensity of the dragon’s gaze. Yet he dared not even let a sigh of relief escape his lips when at last the creature turned its head away.

He did have time to note the spiked ridges that trailed down the back of the dragons’s spine before the end of the coiled tail came crashing into the side of his head.

I: After Akashi’s cousin died, he is named guardian of her children. He plans to send them to the most expensive school in the city, until he meets their current teacher.
II: It’s time to explain to the kids that Kuroko is more than a ‘friend’ to Akashi.
III: Kuroko treats the Akashi family to a weekend at the beach, but a jellyfish and an ex-boyfriend stir up trouble.

  • Kitsune AU (Series) - (Finished) (Story 1: rated Mature [slight nsfw], story 2: rated T [13+], story 3: rated Mature)

1: There’s a saying about that bridge. If you cross it, you never come back. No one ever does.

2:Akashi has his own ghosts.

3: In most stories, it’s the human that chases after the fox. In this one, it’s the other way around.

  • Whispering Fireworks - (Unfinished) (Rated T [13+] possible tw of violence and blood, I haven’t read this in a while so I’ve forgotten :c)

Kuroko believed he was normal. He’s proven wrong when he is forced to escape to Kyoto from an organization called Hanabi, whom are after human life. The Generation of Miracles, a group made to protect the humans, notices his hidden potential and immerses Kuroko into their world. Soon, he finds out he is the missing puzzle piece in destroying Hanabi.

  • Imprisonment - (Unfinished) (Rated Mature [nsfw] tw: graphic depictions of violence & abuse, torture, wounds)

Kuroko surprisingly caught the attention of a reputable yakuza, Akashi Seijuurou. Through an agreement, Akashi managed to convince Kuroko to come to him every time the cops wanted information about the underworld. Of course, the price for it was much heavier than Kuroko expected. But if it was favorable towards the police force, why not?

When Hound #4 is drafted to join Division 1, mixed reactions are received.

“You should be careful with Hound #4.”

Kuroko, sipping lukewarm lemon tea, pauses. “And why is that, Inspector Kise?”

The blond laughs at the astringent look marring Kuroko’s face, setting down his cup of espresso. “Because he’s got two of him inside — you’d never know which one you’re dealing with. One is a veneered charitable businessman, and the other,” he shrugs, “our resident sociopath slash serial killer. Always be on your tiptoes, Kurokocchi.”

These ones have some AkaKuro in them, they’re multiship fics~

  • How Does It Feel? - (Finished) (Rated T [13+] tw: graphic depictions of violence, wounds, blood, one mention of suicide)

Kuroko was found beaten and unconscious, hanging by his wrists from a basketball hoop in Kaijou’s gym with a message cut into his chest and stomach: HEY GENERATION OF MIRACLES. HOW DOES IT FEEL? The GoM are determined to find who hurt him and make them pay, but along the way must face the mistakes they made in middle school, and realize the pain their actions caused others.

A bunch of dumb Miracles try to figure out how to stop one special Kuroko Tetsuya from crying.

And that’s how I ended up dating five guys at once.

(I’ll add fics when I’ve read them, so it will get edited a lot)

I’m honestly torn about whether I’d prefer Unwind as a show or a movie. Shows would add so much stress, and the weekly episode would allow me to get over the last stressful scene before the other came up. Imagine the cliff hangers it would allow (especially that one in undivided you know the one). But if it were a movie there would be a higher budget allowing more wiggle room, and the wouldn’t have to dance around the issues as much because it’s on TV and they gotta watch what they say depending on the channel. Plus imagine things like Divan’s plane’s cargo room on the big screen. Seeing that on IMAX would be the most terrifyingly chilling thing I can think of. Same with panning out on the beds in the warehouse at Roberta’s. They’d each have their pros and their cons, but I’d really be fine with either especially if as a TV show it was picked up by an HBOish channel so censoring wouldn’t be as big of a worry