work wounds

Alternatives for 25 overused words in writing

1. Interesting- note worthy; thought-provoking; fascinating; attracting; appealing; attention-grabbing; captivating; gripping; invigorating; engrossing; engaging; electrifying.  

2. Beautiful- striking; stunning; magnificent; lovely; charming; gorgeous; radiant; dazzling.

3. Good- acceptable, wonderful, exceptional; positive; brilliant; first-rate; notable; stellar; favorable; superb; marvellous; prime.

4. Bad- awful; lousy; poor; unacceptable; crummy; dreadful; rough; inferior; substandard; atrocious; appalling; dreadful; defective.

5. Look- glance; fixate; observe; stare; gaze; peer; scan; watch; study; browse; eye; glimpse; review; inspect.

6. Nice- lovely; superior; pleasant; satisfying; delightful; likeable; agreeable; correct; adequate; swell; fair; okay; approved.

7. Very- extremely; exceedingly; exceptionally; immensely; tremendously; abundantly; particularly; remarkably.

8. Fine- satisfactory; worthy; respectable; exquisite; suitable; well; imposing; decent; admirable; praise-worthy; decent.

9. Happy- cheerful; delighted; pleased; content; amused; thrilled; elated; thrilled; ecstatic; on cloud 9. 

10. Really- genuinely; truly; honestly; actually; undoubtedly; certainly; remarkably; incredibly; downright; unquestionably; extremely.

11. Sad- miserable; gloomy; devastated; down at heard; distraught; distressed; dispirited; sorrowful; downcast; feeling blue; desolate.

12. Big- massive; huge; giant; gigantic; enormous; large; colossal; immense; bulky; tremendous; hefty; sizable; extensive; great; substantial. 

13. Shocked- taken aback; lost for words; flabbergasted; staggered; outraged; astonished; astounded; stunned; speechless; appalled.

14. Small- tiny; petite; mini; miniature; microscopic; minuscule; compact; pocket-sized; cramped; puny; undersized; limited; meager; modest; minute; pint-sized. 

15. Angry- irate; enraged; touchy; cross; resentful; indignant; infuriated; wound-up; worked-up; seething; raging; heated; bitter; bad-tempered; offended; frustrated. 

16. Know- understand; comprehend; realize; learn; perceive; recognize; grasp; sense.

17. Change- alter; transform; replace; diversify; adjust; adapt; modify; remodel; vary; evolve; transfigure; redesign; refashion; advance; transition; shift; adjustment.

18. Old- aged; ancient; matured; elderly; senior; veteran; decrepit; seasoned; venerable; past one’s prime; doddering; senile.

19. Think- ponder; reflect; conceive; imagine; contemplate; consider; determine; realize; visualize; guess/assume; conclude; envision. 

20. Funny- comical; ludicrous; amusing; droll; entertaining; absurd; hilarious; silly; whimsical; hysterical; joking; witty; facetious; slapstick; side-splitting; knee-slapping.

21. Go- move; proceed; advance; progress; travel; walk; journey; depart; exit; flee; make one’s way; clear out; get underway.

22. Give- grant; donate; hand-out; present; provide; deliver; hand over; offer; award; bestow; supply with; contribute to; send; entrust.

23. Get- acquire; obtain; receive; gain; earn; gather; collect; buy; purchase; attain; score; secure; take possession of; grab.

24. Easy- effortless; simple; clear; smooth; straightforward; uncomplicated; painless; accessible; apparent; basic; plain; child’s play; facile; elementary; cinch. 

25. Fast- agile; brisk; rapid; nimble; swift; accelerated; fleeting; high-speed; active; dashing; winged; hurried; turbo. 

new genre concept: soft apocalypse

the world as we know it has ended and mother nature starts taking back what’s hers. there are no zombies or cannibals or murderous bandits. the most valued members of the community are those who know how to garden and farm, sew and weave, treat wounds, work wood or build with bricks, cook from scratch. 

people bond together to begin rebuilding instead of killing each other. everyone teaches each other whatever they do know and works together to figure out the stuff none of them know. books become incredibly valued resources because they’re often the only way to learn critical information. if someone is elderly, disabled, or otherwise unable to work at the same level as most of the community, they’re taken care of by the others, not told any sort of “survival of the fittest” bs.

as the generations ware on, communities begin expanding into small cities. some of the settlements even find ways to repurpose solar or wind power on a small scale and have electricity in some of their buildings. storytellers wander the countryside telling tales of the old world in return for some hot stew or a place to rest for the night, and the mythos of the new world start to incorporate elements of the past. the only thing that remains constant is that humans survive, and they do it by working together.

What… am… I?

The beast towered over me, perched on its clawed toes, its twisted and ugly flesh covered in layers of sharp, smooth black carapace. It looked oily. Monstrous. It had horns on its head and beady, glowing eyes that bore into mine and seemed so familiar. As familiar as a mirror.

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Healing 101: Different Types of Healing

Physical Healing: Physical ailments create disruptions that affect the energetic body. Having a big wound, for example, would be able to be seen in the energy system and would often times make for complications in the energetic body. This type of healing is most often only effective when it’s paired with help from mundane means and it does not replace it in any way. It can aid in the healing but doesn’t work on its own.

Energy Healing: “Energy Healing” is a broad term that included but is not limited to healing blockages, injuries on the energetic body or energy system, regulating a healthy energy flow, bringing the energies in the body back into balance, and much more. Basically, everything that works on the energy system and usually the other more “physical” layers of your energetic body.

Emotional Healing: Emotional Healing is exactly what it sounds like: The healing of emotions. This type of healing is usually very soft and gentle. Most often it either softens the bad feelings or gives the person that is being healed new, more positive ones that overshadow, eliminate, or nullify the bad ones. For deeper sitting wounds continues work is required.

Soul Healing: These are the types of healings that transcend the pain of one life and focus on healing the soul, or core, of a person. Past life traumas and pain come up and are treated with these healings. They go way deeper into the energy of a person than other types and thus make the one being healed more vulnerable.

Mind Healing: Mind healings focus on treating the mind. This type can aid in the treatment of unhealthy thought patterns and the like, although not replace mundane treatments. Mind healings are often paired with emotional healing.

Metaphysical/Energetic Healing should NEVER replace a doctor, medication, or other type of mundane treatment. If you have a physical or mental illness, see a professional.

Here are my other healing posts so far (will be updated once new ones are made):

Healing 101: Identifying Blockages
Healing 101: Removing Blockages
Healing 101: Helper Orbs

Right Here

Logan Howlett x Reader, angsty fluff. 

“Breath, you idiot.” Logan muttered as he cradled your body in his arms. “Come on, kid.”

Your eyes remained closed, arms limped at your side. Logan’s heart raced and he cursed under his breath just as the Blackbird appeared from the sky, landing down a few yards away.

“About damn time,” Logan stood up with you in his arms and raced toward the aircraft. He was supposed to protect you, but he had turned his back and you were hit in the chest. The bleeding hadn’t stopped and a sinking feeling came over the man. It was stupid, he had promised himself never to get close to another person again. But then you walked right into the mansion, all attitude and grace, knocked him on his ass once while dueling and he felt himself slip. After so many years, he had let you in. And now you were dying in his arms and there was nothing he could do, except hope and shit he didn’t have much of that left in him.

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Why the Hell Am I So Slow: A Process

Discord chat got on the topic of sketching methods, because I’m continuously baffled how a couple of them can finish things in <1hr that would take me about a day at least. So I tried to test myself, using sweet Tessy here as a model. His initial sketch took only about 10m, the oversketch about 30, and then lines 2hr and colors… 3ish? Maybe 4? Hard to gauge since I took a few breaks at that point.

Even had I stopped at the oversketch and did far simpler colors, that would easily be ~2hrs. So my question remains unanswered, but hey. Good to take a critical eye to one’s own process sometimes, right? Something sorta came of it. So have this!

after missing out on three consecutive HP-related days of celebration (20th anniversary, Harry’s birthday, and 19 years later) due to long work hours and poor health, i must admit I feel like a sort of failure as a fan artist. let me seeth in my self pity and sense of isolation from the rest of you partying folks with a doodle of Albus doing the same thing

The Poison in the Wound

Summary: Feyre and Tamlin meet to try and finally clear away some of the bad blood between them.

**This fic is independent of my other works, and after writing so many adult fics in a row I feel the need to specify— this is very much rated PG :)

Originally posted by xlovestudioghibli

My Other Ficlettes: An Elucien Epilogue || What Rises from the Ashes || A Cure for Nightmares (NSFW Manorian) || Alone in the Townhouse (NSFW Nessian) || Alone in the Garden (NSFW Elucien) || Nessian: The Mating (NSFW Nessian) || Nessian The Mating: Part 1, The Wedding || Nessian The Mating: Part 2, The Cabin (NSFW)

**If you are on mobile, you cannot see the “Keep Reading” tag half the time. Just scroll up to the top of this post and click my URL, it will take you to the whole post :)

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I’m going to Planned Parenthood for my yearly exam today, which reminded me of the happenings of last year. In the interest of oversharing, I thought I’d let you in on that too.

So, you know, you’re supposed to like, get naked and put on the paper vest and put the paper blanket over your lap, right?

Uhhhhhh well somewhere in the process of this, I was like, “instructions unclear. Tried to wear paper vest as pants.”

Which didn’t work. I wound up accidentally tearing the thing in half in my attempt to make something pants that clearly wasn’t pants. Then in my haste to fix my egregious errors, I managed to rip the paper blanket too, so when the doctor comes in I’m basically just clutching scraps of paper to my naked body and trying to explain myself.

They also have these bowls of condoms out, right? But most of them are in places where people are gonna see you if you take them. So I’ll be checking into my appointment like, “Condom? No I couldn’t possibly. Haha not me. I am pure.”

Cut to me in the bathroom stuffing condoms in my purse cuz they got a drawer full of them in there. Because, I mean, hey, if a miracle happens, you gotta be prepared.

But we got Planned Parenthood themed chapstick and a year’s worth of good ol’ birth control, so all in all a good trip.

our wounds will scar.

anonymous asked:

Could you do a scenario of Genji or McCree flirting with Mercy's medical assistant/apprentice while they are getting treated for minor injuries post mission?


The familiar smell of antiseptic of the medical room greeted you as you entered, carefully carrying the latest box of supplies which was sent over for Dr. Zeigler. However, unlike the usual quiet hum of the machinery that would usually greet you when you took your shift, it was a loud argument that welcomed you to the room. Noticing a few drop of blood on the pure white floor, you quickly checked your watch. Of course. A group of agents must of just returned from another mission. Setting down the box on the supply cupboard, you quickly tugged on your white lab coat, hurrying over the where you could hear Angela’s voice arguing with a male one. 

“I will sedate you if you keep arguing with me! Even though it is a minor wound, it could get infected and I will not have you out of action just because of it!” The doctor scolded. 

“That’s why I came to get a band-aid from you!” The voice protested. 

Angela made a sound of pure exasperation before appearing in your line of sight, rubbing the bridge of her nose. She started slightly at the sight of you before sighing in relief. 

“Oh thank goodness. Please deal with him, I’ve known him too long to put up with anymore of his shenanigans.” Angela whispered to you, placing a chilled hand on your shoulder before looking back over her shoulder, saying in a louder tone: “ My apprentice will be taking care of that wound for you. And then, only then, may you leave.” 

“Hm? The cute one? Why didn’t you just say so, I’d have come sooner!” 

Angela sighed before giving you an apologetic look and walking over to the supplies you brought in, starting to pack them safely away. You took a breath and walked over, behind the privacy curtain, to the patient’s bed where the man was sitting, waiting. 

Jesse McCree

The cowboy reclined comfortably on the bed, the sleeve of his still intact human arm rolled all the way up to his shoulder, showing a large, deep, bloodied gash from the elbow to the top of his arm. Dirt still clung to his darkened clothing and his serape, which he folded neatly on the chair next to the bed. He had taken his shoes off, as to not stain the bed sheets with blood and filth, as to not annoy Angela further. Smart man. 

He was whistling softly as you shut the curtains and turned to him, giving him a small lukewarm smile. 

“Howdy.” Jesse gave you a wolfish grin, tilting his head slightly like an overgrown wolf cub. 

You hummed a greeting, opening up the bedside drawer and took out bandages, a pair of scissors, antiseptic spray, cleaning cloth and a single band-aid. Jesse chuckled softly at the sight, sitting up so you could attend to him better. 

“You do know I was kidding about the band-aid, right sugar?” McCree asked, eyes watching you bemusedly. 

“Yes, but all kids like having a plaster on their owies, don’t they?” You retorted, using the cleaning cloth to lightly clean up the excess blood around the wound. 

Jesse snorted loudly, obviously amused. 

“So, you think I’m like a big kid.” 


“Well, I ain’t bashful to tell ya, the things you’re making me think of ain’t kid-friendly at all.” Jesse purred playfully. 

You nearly dropped the bloodied cloth as you threw it in the dustbin, a slight colored tinge coming to your cheeks. You cleared your throat, picking up the antiseptic spray and, without warning, spraying it on the wound, making McCree jump. 

“Shit!” He growled. “That stings!” 

You smirked idly, starting to wrap the wound in bandages, feeling his narrowed gaze on you as you worked. He leaned forwards slightly, humming in your ear, hoping to distract you with his short distance from you. You momentarily lost concentration, opting to hurriedly redo the bandage, as McCree chuckled. You shot him a glare and tightened it abruptly, making the cowboy jump again. 

“Damn, doll, you’re sadistic to your patients. Are you like this all the time?” Jesse huffed, casually sliding his leg in between yours. 

“I learned from the best.” You shrugged, the thought of Angela approving of your harsh treatment of Jesse making you grin. 

“Well, your bedside manner is shit, but if you’re this mean in bed, I’d forgive it.” Jesse murmured, low so Angela wouldn’t hear. 

You accidentally cut your finger as you snipped off the end of the bandage which stuck out, startled from Jesse’s remark. You hissed a soft swear as you placed the scissors down, but was quickly silenced by McCree taking your hand and casually licking the cut, making you start. 

“Shit! That stings!” You pulled your hand away. 

Jesse smirked lazily, pleased with the quick karma. You huffed, picking up the band-aid and sticking it to his uselessly to the bandage around his arm. 

“There. Do you want a lollipop as well?” You hummed, going to the sink and running the cut under cold water. 

“Nah, but, uh, do you have any rubbers around here?” Jesse asked, sliding off the bed. 

For some reason there was a sinking feeling in your stomach. Shaking off the feeling, you strode over to the supply bench and pulled out a condom for him, giving him an unimpressed look. 

“Doll, what makes you think I’ll only be needing the one?” McCree chuckled, pulling his shoes on. 

You turned around, sighing and picked up two more, showing him the 3 little packets, Jesse nodding his approval. Standing up he took the edges of the condoms between his teeth, wrapping his serape around his shoulders, before pocketing them. 

“I’ll be back later, sweetheart!” Jesse called over his shoulder. 

“Don’t tell me you’ll be needing more.” You answered flatly. 

“Nah, I’m hoping on actually using them when I visit next time.” McCree grinned his wolfish smirk at your flushed cheeks as he shut the door behind him. 

You could hear his cheerful whistling all the way down the hall. 

Genji Shimada 

The cyborg was sitting boyishly on the bed, cross legged, resting his chin on the palm of his hand, a bored air about him. He straightened up slightly at your arrival, his vents exhaling a small amount of steam. You glanced at his body, trying to find the wound which Angela had lectured him about. 

“So, where’s this injury that can’t be helped with a band-aid?” You asked, watching the cyborg. 

Genji hummed, suddenly propping his leg up on the headboard of the bed, looking as if he was stretching for a ballet class.  There, underneath the damaged plating, was a large gash along his inner thigh. 

“Did you and Reaper try to get freaky and he forgot he still had his gloves on or something?” You asked, bemused before leaning in, examining the tear closely. 

“Ah no, it was Hana’s Ult gone wrong.” Genji laughed, amused at the thought.

You pushed your hair out of the way, trying the see where the most damage had  been caused, leaning in closer and squinting. Genji tilted his head, watching you get pretty close to his crotch. He chuckled to himself and, straining to hear if Angela was coming back, he pushed your hair out of your way, keeping his fingers tangled in it. 

You hummed a thanks. 

“Genji, you’ll need to g- What are you two doing?!” Angela pulled the curtain back, starting at the sight of you two, Genji holding your hair, your face practically buried in his lap. 

You jumped and looked up, puzzled, at Angela. Genji muffled his boyish chuckling, vents exhaling steam once more in glee. 

“I thought…” Angela’s cheeks gained a small amount of color, realizing she had leapt to conclusion. 

“Yes, doctor?” Genji purred happily, resting his hand on your lower back. “What did you think was happening? Must of been something that looked like it breached doctor-patient rules.” 

“N-Nevermind that!” Angela snapped. “I was just going to say that after the wound has been patched up, you should go along to Torbjorn to get the armour plating patched up!” 

Angela quickly disappeared with a huff. You glanced down at Genji quizzically to which he only giggled in response. 

“You’re cute when out of your element.” Genji remarked, leaning back on his forearms. 

Your cheeks colored momentarily, quickly grabs forceps, cleaning cloth, antiseptic and other medical instruments out of the bedside drawer. You pushed his inner thigh so you could better see the damage and got to work, cleaning the wound. You were being incredibly careful, as to not irritate the old scars the you brushed over, but still, Genji would grip the sheets a few times, huffing softly. You were just dabbing ointment along where skin met metal when your hand briefly slipped and accidentally pressed against the sensitive wounds. Genji gave a yelp of pain and you quickly pulled back. 

“Sorry.” You muttered. 

“You might as well kiss it better.” Genji hummed softly, tilting his head. 

“What? No!” 

“You should.” Genji’s gaze never broke away from your face. “That did hurt quite a lot.” 

“It’s unhygienic.” You said, flatly. 

“Well, kiss somewhere else then.” Genji suggested, a sultry tone entering his voice. 

“Y-You’re done here. Go to Torbjorn.” You quickly changed the path of the conversation, throwing away used cloths and washing the forceps you used to help clean the wound. 

Genji gingerly stood up, stretching his back so it clicked. You strode out, placing the now washed forceps back into the supply cupboard. You didn’t hear Genji come up behind you, until you felt his chin rest on your shoulder. 

“We’ll talk later about where you can place that kiss, hm?” Genji murmured. “I’m looking forward to it~” 

I was reading an interesting article today about relatives of famous people- or relatively famous- and it was talking about Dr. Charles Pepper, who the soda is named after. He was the oldest son, but he had a much younger brother, James Pepper. Their parents died when Charles was finishing his degree, so while the older brother got to go to college, James couldn’t afford to. This was just at the beginning of the Civil War, so James ended up volunteering to fight for the Union. As his brother was a surgeon for the Confederacy, this led to some tension in the family.

James was a fairly successful (and lucky) soldier. He joined up with the Army of Northeastern Virginia, which became the Army of the Potomac, and lasted longer than basically any general who led it. He fought at both Battles of Bull Run, Antietam, and was even present at Appomattox when Lee surrendered to Grant. He was injured during the war a few times, but never suffered any serious wounds. James worked his way up to an NCO position, and a lot of his soldiers looked at him as a good luck charm as they went into battle. He had some remarkable numbers when it came to keeping his men safe.

After the war ended, James stayed with the Army, even though he was advised that he wouldn’t likely ever advance into the ranks of full officer. It had effectively become his home by that point. Though he did struggle a little in the post-war military. Where his service and success was enough to keep him in his command’s good graces, the post-war military required more social maneuvering and politics. He had problems with this at first. A lot of it all took place in social clubs over card games, and during the summer of 1865, he was reprimanded and nearly cashed out of the Army over a fight he got into one evening with an officer. In the end, he apologized, he was told not to return, and that was it to settle the issue. He learned from it, and became much more mannerly and well-behaved in the circumstances.

So, all in all, that was Sergeant Pepper’s only Hearts Club ban.

Fire in your blood | SLBP {Inuchiyo}

A/N: I am sorry for all the Toshiie spam I think this will get it out of my system. This is SFW, barely for now. It’s also not very long but JUST long enough to justify a read more.

Inuchiyo had won.

You were…well frankly, you were still attempting to process that information it was so surprising. It seemed improbable. Impossible.

It’s not that he wasn’t smart, or wasn’t strong; you knew quite intimately he was completely capable of great feats, it was just, well, he didn’t always think things through, you supposed. And with the slippery, inscrutable Lord Ieyasu, and the bookishly brilliant Lord Mitsunari, and the ever-cheerfully-calm Lord Hideyoshi all in the same competition Lord Nobunaga had set to his retainers, full of tricky puzzles and twists, it just seemed…surprising that the master of them all had ended up being your childhood friend. The same one who charged blindly into battle by himself, solving riddles and scaling cliffs. Well, that last one, at least, you could believe, but overall—“I can’t believe you won, Inuchiyo.”

Profound annoyance flashed across his features, which had already been drawn into an irritated frown. “The hell do you mean by that?” Oops. You hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but before you could murmur a mostly-meant apology, the annoyed eyes flickered closed, a sigh relaxing shoulders that were clearly tired from the trial they’d endured. “Like I’d lose, idiot.” He was mumbling around a bandage between his lips as he bit off the edge of a it, tearing it from the tie, and automatically your hands reached out to take it from him as he continued, “Did you forget what the prize was?”


Your cheeks seared with a dizzy flip of your gut. You were the prize Lord Nobunaga had offered.

Or more specifically, a place in your bedding.

Your hands froze over the bandage you’d taken from Toshiie, suddenly acutely aware of the heat from his skin and the pound of your heart. It struck you, not for the first time, that they were something to look at, his shoulders.

You remembered the thin, jutted shape of their childhood, a memory only now, but vivid in your thoughts, squared and determined, always between you and even the perception of danger. They weren’t thin, anymore. But they still protected you. Your fingers moved again, slowly, mindlessly tracing the shape of the muscle beneath the bandage, hard and solid as stone, encased in warm, slick silk.

A sudden flick of fingers against your forehead startled you. He was looking at you, troubled, tired smile on his lips. “Don’t look like that.” Guiltily, you started, had he noticed? But he was mumbling, looking away from you already with his head sulkily on one hand and hurriedly you went back to bandaging, blindly reaching for the warm washcloth he’d been using a moment ago. “I wasn’t going to let anyone do anything, and I’m not gonna do nothing to you either.”

The sudden, searing keen of your heart puzzled you for a moment, until you identified precisely what the emotion was that you felt so keenly and abruptly.


You were viciously disappointed.

That was…interesting, wasn’t it?

You found yourself unable to blink, suddenly, hands mechanically, gently wiping the myriad of fresh cuts and reaching for another bandage, even as your eyes trailed down from shoulders to his chest, and lower. Your lips felt dry, and you ran your tongue over them in a quick, nervous dart. The sumptuous, sprawling room the Lord of Fools had locked you both in felt too warm and too small. You heard your voice, and were shocked by the low, breathlessness of it, “Why not?” Your fingers stilled, and you leaned forward, rising to your knees, palm pressing against where your hand had paused, and marveled at the sudden, thundering pace of the heart below where it rested.

“Ah—why, wha—”

The sudden, total scatter of his thoughts, was endearing. Adorable. You lifted your other hand to rest on his neck,tapping your nails against the pulse you found there too, resting your palm against it and feeling daring and beautiful in his eyes, flickering in the lantern light. You were reflected there, only you, as they swam from shock to unmistakable, lingering want. You realized you had seen it before, in his eyes, but you hadn’t noticed until it was in your own stare. He jerked away from your hands and, heart sinking a bit, you let them fall in your lap, settling back onto your knees.

“You know why.” He bit off the words, and you adored the blush scattered over his cheeks. Oh, Inuchiyo. It was obvious to you at last, and you felt silly and warm and safe, and it was your turn to look away, glancing down briefly as you blinked away the warmth suddenly behind your eyes.

The shoulders you had been watching so close were tense now, jumpy. The lantern cast curious shadows across his skin, stretched in scarred stories over a shape you knew but had never seen quite in this light. Suddenly nervous, you dabbed the bandage in sake, and brought it to your lips, licking away the extra drops.

It tasted like fire.

The movement caught his gaze, and, fascinated, you watched his eyes darken to an unrecognizably deep color. That was…that was interesting, wasn’t it? You wanted to try it again, but opted for something else. The fire was in your blood already, crackling and quiet, like a spark not yet fanned free. “Let me,” breathless, you leaned in, too close you knew, but he didn’t flinch, merely froze as your wrapped your hand around him, using it to guide the soaked bandage around a wound he’d earned for your sake. You couldn’t quite reach all the way around him from where you were, and you watched the shadows dance once, twice, and then hiked your skirts and slid across his lap, straddling him to tug the bandage tight.

“Hey, what are you—”

You let your hands stop at last, tying and tucking the ends. You stared at your handiwork, letting your fingers pause above other scars, and wondered if this too would leave one.

If you would leave one.

You couldn’t seem to catch your breath, even as you watched his chest rise and fall in labored surprise. Your hands splayed, feeling the warmth of him. “Inuchiyo…” No, you shook your head, “Toshiie…”

“Ye…yeah?” He sounded dazed, drunk, though uncharacteristically, he hadn’t let a drop pass his lips after his win had been announced.

His heart beat under your hands, and yours was in his though he had no way to know it, yet. You were quiet, for a moment, and then felt his hands come to rest on your hips, as thought to lift you off, and you curled your fingers and yanked your head up to meet his darkened stare. “I think…you should claim your prize.”

More of Lee’s rambles (or click the link in my profile description)

Made of Skin and Bones

(not my gifs!)

Pairing: Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader

Warnings: Language, A/B/O dynamics, make out

Summary: Due to the premature death of the King of your clan, his son, the alpha James Barnes, must assume his destiny and lead his people. As the tradition commands, he must choose some worthy omegas to make their his wives and with which he will ensure the subsistence of your clan. All the omega women are obliged to appear before their king, including you. Luckily for you, you would never be chosen… right?

Tags: at the end. ARE NOW CLOSED (sorry guys) I wrote them again one by one I really hope this time they work

A/N: So sorry guys for the delay, here I’m again! :)

9. Shore

Arrows whilst around your heads making you wince and yell every time you hear them nail in some surface. James is dragging you running through the trees, zigzagging and dodging the sharp arrows with difficulty. Your lungs hurt from the effort and the panic.

Suddenly James pushes you under a great hollowed root and covers your mouth with one hand. It is difficult to keep silence because of your laborious breathing and he presses your head against his chest trying to quell the little noises coming out of your mouth. You’re sure your heart is about to explode and you want to cry, who the hell is trying to kill you?

- Shhh - he tries to calm you down 

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Occasionally we let someone in, we open the folds of our insecurity and give access to the darkest parts of us. We hand over the key, and it’s terrifying. And sometimes they bump into a raw nerve, they say a callous insensitive remark, they ridicule a strange notion we have, they poke at our dreams just a bit. It hurts pretty bad and we push them out and fold up fast. We remind ourselves, “This is why I don’t let anyone in.” And we run.

It’s right here that most people apologize like crazy. They feel terrible. They were trying to figure out how to navigate the labyrinth of your wonderful story. It’s like holding a tiny flash light in a cave of a new world. They didn’t mean to provoke those old wounds. They didn’t mean to poke fun at your dreams. They considered it an honor that they held the key, even for a few frenzied moments.

Intimacy takes work, trust, wounds, hurts, sculpting in the dark: and that takes time. It takes more than a single chance. Of course we can close the doors, at any second, when we know it just won’t work. But there are many opportunities if we had trusted a little longer, reset the tempo, and spoke up louder: it would’ve been okay. Bridges would be built. New stories are made. You find your hand closing around theirs. They begin to traverse the folds of your heart with ease, and they learn to say those things which give life, which give freedom, which grow dreams. Intimacy is formed out of stumbling, but further down the path: there is so much light, so much laughter, so many steps to the horizon together.
—  J.S.
I’ve Never Been In Love Before (Owen Grady x Reader)

Originally posted by jurassicparkfilms

As requested by anon: could you please do one where reader is out in the park when I-Rex gets loose and is in the jungle with Zach and Gray & Owen’s going crazy & when he and Claire find them reader gets SUPER badly injured & Owen freaks the frick out because I need some protective/worried/loving angsty Owen in my life!

Owen vowed never to fall in love. He’d been hurt too many times in the past. Not by partners, though, but rather by the loss of friends during his Navy days and his family that had shunned him for joining in the first place. He was ashamed, in a way. After all, he was supposed to be tough and strong, and yet, under that sarcastic, laid back exterior that he’d built up, he was lonely, scared, and empty. And even worse, he’d been brought down to the point that he was afraid of something he’d never even experienced before: a meaningful, romantic relationship. His raptors offered him some comfort. A distraction. A small presence to ever so slightly fill that gaping hole within him, but he refused to allow himself to love creatures that would happily tear him to shreds if given the opportunity. No. Love was not an option for him in any capacity of the word.

And then you came along.

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anonymous asked:

I just keep thinking about the bay or bae choice but like in the context of the choice the beast gives Wirt at the end of over the garden wall. Like the tornado asking to choose between chloe and Arcadia bay and Max just responding with, "that's dumb" and choosing something else that saves everyone lmao

Haha, I’ve never drawn that comparison but that’s amusing. OTGW is one of my favorite stories in general at this point, though. Thinking on all of this led to an informal essay that helps me ground myself in my own mistakes with other fics I’ve worked on, All Wounds’ planning stages, and how I’m approaching its impending ending.

This one’s a bit of a doozie.

(I will be referencing elements of the endings to Over the Garden Wall, Life is Strange, Steins;Gate, and Oxenfree, in case you’re worried about knowing things you don’t yet want to know)

OTGW and LIS are very different stories dealing with very different themes, and OTGW can get away with a blunt and brusque resolution like that because it’s a dark comedy that’s in many ways subverting or teasing a lot of melodramatic tropes. LIS often introduces tropes and then peels back a layer and asks us to look deeper, which is a whole other sort of deal.

The problem, though, is that its own finale and final climax kind of doesn’t hold up, because it hinges upon a choice that really makes no sense – and a moral-oriented choice, at that, which makes it even harder to swallow.

With Wirt and the Beast, there’s a physical character within the world to confront. To call out. To vanquish or scare off or outsmart. Greg’s disposition can be broken apart and he can be released. The entire story is about mystery and, well

OTGW makes no allusions that its story isn’t supposed to quite make sense, it embraces its mystery, and it subverts things by making ‘reality’ a hidden element until the final act.

The story makes it pretty obvious that this world isn’t supposed to make much sense, too, which leads us to not really question things when it doesn’t.

Wirt is the elder brother, he’s supposed to set an example, he’s supposed to look out for his sibling, and he fails.

And while there’s a lot of darkness to this story, it is, ultimately, a comedy, first and foremost, and most resolutions with the various antagonists are resolved with some kind of clever or amusing tactic. It doesn’t want us to take it too seriously, and it’s often making fun of tropes in dramatic fantasy stories.

What’s happening with Max, Chloe, and the tornado isn’t so physical as being lost, as confronting magical beasts. It’s abstract and unexplained, yet the story wants us to take it seriously and tries (weakly) to ‘explain’ things. This falls short because there aren’t really any concrete, established rules, and yet we’re supposed to buy into everything being Max’s fault when we don’t even know how it’s her fault. This is tricky because within the context of the narrative, it makes the player assume the position and perspective the creators wanted:

Max Caulfield is supposed to choose between the greater good, or what she desires as an individual.

The premise of that choice is great, and it’s what the entire game has been foreshadowing and leading up to. The execution is just very iffy to me because of the dodgy attempt at explanation…without explaining anything. ‘Chaos Theory’ literally does not work the way the game alludes to it. The writers know none of this makes sense, which is why in the finale they unfortunately go as bluntly as to make Chloe say:

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