#Plume D. Severs

[oldtvandcomics]

Salut ! D'habitude, je blogue en anglais, mais je viens tout juste de terminer ce livre en français, et je dois ABSOLUMENT en parler.

Le voilà :

Nous Sommes la Poussière, de Plume D. Serves. Photo prise ici avec la recommandation de Les Mots A La Bouche, la librairie queer à Paris. C'est pas là où je l'ai acheté d'ailleurs, mais dans Le Nuage Vert, librairie fantastique à Paris, car Paris est grande et a des magasins spécialisés comme ça (je viens de la campagne, pour moi, c'est du nouveau). J'avais demandé des livres queer des écrivains français (Les Mots A La Bouche) et des livres des écrivains français qui parlent des minorités, surtout queer ou handicapés (Le Nuage Vert), car je lis presque exclusivement en anglais, et je ne sais pas comment trouver le genre de livre que je cherche en autres langues, bien que je sache qu'ils existent de super choses.

Et ce livre-là, il était TELLEMENT BIEN, je ne peux pas dire.

La madame de Le Nuage Vert me l'a vendu comme science-fiction très léger, mais je trouve que c'est mieux décrit comme du réalisme magique. L'idée est qu'il y a cette condition qui fait matérialiser autour des gens un nuage des particules de poussière électromagnétiques, ce qui évidemment va impacter la qualité de vie. Ce qu'est pire, c'est tous les stigmas sociétaux qui viennent avec. En fait, c'est un handicap et traité comme un. Le personnage principal est une jeune femme diagnostiquée assez tard, qui vécut toutes ces discriminations, et s'engage dans de l'activisme pour les combattre. Elle est aussi lesbienne.

Et ce livre, il parle DE TOUT. Je n'ai jamais vu la monde dans laquelle j'existe représentée comme ça avant.

Il parle des difficultés de recevoir une diagnose, le sentiment de voir ta vie se passer sans toi, les différentes difficultés des gens qui sont diagnostiqués comme adultes vs comme enfants, le privilège de "passer", la discrimination que font face les couples handicapés qui veulent des enfants, les difficultés d'organiser un mouvement activiste, activisme violent vs non-violent, la médecine alternative, les difficultés qu'ont les parents à se faire croire si leur enfant a un handicap invisible, l'intersectionnalité des identités marginalisées et comment la société les criminalise... Je ne balgue pas, je pourrais encore continuer avec les sujet auquel il touche.

C'est super clair que l'écrivaine a des expériences personnelles dans ce milieu (son bio dit qu'elle est militante autiste et queer, et c'est vrai qu'on reconnait la communauté autiste dans celle des magnophiles). Je ne suis pas de tout, mais pas de toute une personne à faire des notes dans un livre, mais ici, j'ai passé toute la lecture à vouloir souligner des passages que OUI, REGARDEZ, C'EST EXACTEMENT COMME CA ! (Évidemment, je ne l'ai pas fait. Je ne prends pas de notes dans des livres.)

Aussi, j'aime bien le style de l'écriture. C'est assez léger comme structure, comme ce sont des chapitres courts interrompues de textes encore plus courts dans la première et deuxième personne, qui donnent voix à l'inventeur des mailles qu'ils forcent les gens à porter et a au moins deux personnes anonymes qui sont aussi en train d'essayer de vivre avec leur handicap (ou bien une personne différente chaque chapitre, ce n'est pas vraiment clair). C'est super, parce que ça aide beaucoup avec l'immersion et donne le sentiment qu'on parle d'une vraie communauté de gens, et aussi, ça permet de temps à se passer entre les chapitres. Donc la narrative est plus une collection de petits moments de la vie d'Elias, au lieu d'une narrative stricte qui progresse de A à B à C et puis c'est fini. C'est un bon choix, que rend le tout beaucoup plus réaliste.

En bref, c'est un super livre que je recommande fort de lire à tout le monde. Surtout si tu es un peu dans ce milieu de l'activisme qui se bat pour les droits de minorités. Ou si tu veux lire un bon livre d'un écrivain français.

[plumadot]

several plume outfits for my roles on the server :D and... some extras gkfdjgk

i NEED to turn the guild outfit into a skin now brb

[brineoffire]

Wings and Wires- Chapter 2

I've done it! This time im trying out a switch of pov :> Also! Trying to come up with a posting schedule that works for me, so ill pin that post if i actually figure one out!

Part 1-

Price marches over to the meeting room, a steady plume of smoke rising from the cigar between his lips. Barging into the room he lifts his chin, his tail swaying

gently behind him as he counts all his boys present. Ghost cross armed against the back wall. Gaz sits near the front of the

table, legs crossed on his seat. Soap sits across him, arms crossed behind his head. Lastly, Roach sits just in front of where Ghost stands, picking at his knuckles.

“Right then boys, it's an infalteration.”He says as he moves to the head of the table. The projector clicks on as he wakes up a laptop while he sits. 

"As you all know Los Panteros have been working off the coast for several months now. We've traced them back from Las Vegas and have finally been able to track their leader, Alphonse Velez. He's hosting a party at the end of this month and we're going in.” Price looks around as the others all nod or grunt in agreement. Soap is the first one to sit up and say something.

“A’right then cap’. When we doin’ this?” 

“We’re movin’ to set up recon in two weeks. Roach’ll be on overwatch with you as an escort. There known to have infernal sigils up so Ghost’ll have ta be backup while Gaz and I go undercover.”

“Cap!”  ���Wai’ a sec-” “You?”

Price’s hand raises as all of them speak up at once. “Aye’ easy now you lot.”

“But sir, they’re known dragon dealers! You would be at too much of a risk!” Gaz has his palms down on the table, his wings flaring up as he speaks up.

“Right. Which is why Laswell’s got a spellcaster to cook up a disguise spell. The two dragons ‘es got are always patrolling outside, so Gaz’s scent will cover us enough to get in jus’ fine.” The rest of the room settles slowly as he presses on with his explanation.

“No more fuss now lads. We stick to the plan, get our intel, ‘n everything ‘ll be right as rain.” Soap's pointed ears pin back to his head and Gaz's feathers stay roused. Theres a low humming growl in the back of Roach’s throat as Ghost steps up behind him squeezing his shoulder in reassurance. 

“If things do go south we all move in. We aint leavin’ without makin’ sure yer outta there cap.” Price gives Ghost a nod as his gaze softens, looking from him to Roach.

“We move together. This is just recon fer now. Should be no noise so long as we stick to the plans.” The tension in the room slowly simmers back down, Price stepping over to Gaz.

“Come now birdie.” He rests a hand on the back of the harpy’s neck. “You'll be right there with me.” Gaz relaxes into the touch, his feathers smoothing out as he looks Price in the eye. His feathers ruffle up softly this time as he nods along with Price's reassurances.

"Aye cap. Up ta me ta keep ya’ safe then, yeah?” Various laughs and chuckles sound out around the room. Price crouches down to get eye to eye with him. One hand settles on Gaz's knee, the other cupping his cheek, clawed finger tips tickling his neck.

"Ata’ boy. We run this tight, get in an’

out, ‘n flush out the rats.” Gaz's wings settle on his back as he leans into Price's hand. He nods again and Price steps up to his feet again.

“Alright then. Rehearsal time lads.” Headed back to the head of the table he flips the laptop to the next slide. “The compound we've linked ‘im to is just off the North coast. Looks like a warehouse but the inside is modified into what looks like a dining hall. With what we've uncovered we know the dragons under his command are used as guards. They patrol outside during events, starting an hour before and staying out two hours after each one.” He looks over at them, catching each of their glances to make sure there are no questions. 

“Gaz ‘n I'll have false identities that Lazwell an’ ‘er team have been cultivating. Weapons dealers from overseas, setting up in the U.S. much like Alphonso has done ‘imself. I want you you all ta keep yer wits about you.We’ve got two weeks between then and now so lets get prepped for the usual.”

“Understood cap.” “Yssir.” “Right.” They all sound off their agreements, Roach even letting off several clicks of approval. They discuss ammo stocks before breaking off separately. Roach heads off with Ghost leaving Soap and Gaz to set up their restock. Price watches them go with a smile on his lips, his tail swaying contently as he lets off another puff of his cigar.. 

The weeks pass quickly, all of them keeping busy and triple checking their equipment until they finally pooled their vehicles. It only takes

about eight hours to drive to their temporary base, and setup only took another half hour. Soap and Roach focus on their electronics. Tapping into city cameras and setting up their comms. They take extra care to keep them all connected, making sure each line has a strong connection tied to communication spells as a backup.

Once it's all set up they spend the rest of the day in each other's company. Price does his best to keep the nerves down, but even with his constant reassurance and firm touches Ghost and Roach are on edge. He finds them scanning over the surveillance cameras for what could probably be the fifth or sixth time in the hour. He sets his hands on both of Ghost’s shoulders, squeezing gently and he rests his chin on the other's head.

“Easy there boys, nothins guna’ change enough for either of you to be stressin’ this much. Take a breather Si, I need both a you to save it for tomorrow night.” Roach lets off a few low chirping sounds as Ghost leans back into Price’s touch. He reaches over to Roach, his hand gently squeezing the back of his neck. 

“You’ve done more than enough for now. Take a breather fer now.” Ghost sighs but relents, turning his chair from the monitors and facing Price. 

“It’d be much easier ta relax if they didn’t have sigils up. Can’t see a damn thing through those fuckin’ walls. These are strong enough to block scents too so once Gaz and you are in there I’m cut off.” Roach trills softly, setting a hand on Ghost’s arm.

“I know, I know, but we don’t have any way of countering these sigils without our cover bein’ blown. Our comms are reinforced with sending spells so we got ears at all times. Like I said, we stick to the plan an’ theyll be nuthin ta worry about.” Ghost gives a nod and takes a deep breath. “Now cmon, the both of ya’.” Price pulls the two of them up from their seats, a hand on both of their backs leading them to the sofa that Gaz and Soap have already sprawled out on. They all shift around, Ghost ending up with Soap over his lap, Price leaning on an arm rest, legs over the length of the sofa with Gaz and Roach sitting on them as they lean on each other.

Their closeness slowly eases the rest of the tension as they wait for their window to open, a large television playing some cheesy rerun of a show they’d seen together beforehand. The time passes slowly as they all mellow out, Soap’s chatter eventually drowning out the television. Laughter fills the room as Ghost's attempts to silence him with a sofa cushion only leads to a face full of wolf drool and a high speed chase through the base. Price chuckles and pulls Roach and Gaz further onto his lap, choosing more relaxation over chasing after his rabid dogs. They all end up spending the night together in the same bedroom, Ghost dragging in a smirking Soap by the scruff as they spend the rest of the night in soft silence.

[aylish91]

Mafia! Nightmare x Reader?

After being cursed to never sit down, and a long wait, we finally get to see a bit of the man himself! Hope you enjoy!

~ ~ ~

When Challengers Fall

“W h a t...”   

The phone creaked dangerously within a black skeletal hand, body unnaturally still in its seat at the desk. Even Killer stilled from the sudden change in his boss. Though he thought he’d seen it all, something much more sinister began brooding within the Don. It had him on edge. Whatever this was, it wasn’t like the rage or anger that normally occurred in this line of work. This, was something else completely.   

It caused sweat to bead on his skull with dread.  

Kingpin Lord Don Nightmare had more than earned the moniker after becoming the undisputed head of the mafia currently in and around Ebbot City. Though he was far from allies with the other factions, his reach was far and hold strong.  

A true king of the Underground. Unyielding and unmovable.  

Something, was very wrong.  

In eerie calmness, the phone was placed back onto the receiver. Then with a slow breath and a steepling of fingers, the dark lord opened his one good socket to a blazing and sharp eyelight.   

“Contact Error. I wish to make a  d e a l.”   

~ ~ ~  

You had to grit your teeth against the stings and aches as you were half dragged through multiple rooms and hallways into a more secluded part of the building. Multiple men followed behind while more ran ahead to unlock any door that got in your way. Dark hair did little to hide the furious brown eyes of your tormentor as you went, the fresh cut across his cheek and ear making you uncomfortable.  

You were still bound when he came for you, chaos already spreading throughout the building. You hoped it was help. Prayed it was salvation and not a rise before a fall. The only thing going for you at the moment was the fact you hadn’t been outright killed as soon as he showed up. 

But things could always change. 

An explosion somewhere behind you had a few men cursing, plumes of smoke billowing down multiple hallways. Manic glitched laughter could be heard over muffled panicked screams. It made your group move faster. With only a few more turns to make it to a recessed keypad that opened a hidden elevator, the laughter growing unsettlingly close as everyone attempted to fit inside the small space. It wasn’t much longer that you arrived at an underground garage.  

The grip on your upper arm tightened.   

It was quiet, a single light the only thing keeping the darkness at bay. You were surprised to see several bodies littering what little you could see of the area, some disappearing within the shadows.  

Slowly, the first few exited, guns drawn and ready.  

“I’m curious. Did you really think I would roll over so easily?”   

The familiar voice had your hope rising in your chest, unshed tears threatening to fall as you thrashed against your restraints and called out. During your struggle, you ended up between the open doors, forced to your knees by your hair with a gun to your head. Tensions were high as your captor cursed you and gave your head a firm shake.  

“I’m getting tired of these games, Nightmare! All you had to do was give me what I wanted! Now I’m tempted to put a nice pretty hole in your little sunshine’s head. Your parlor tricks don’t affect me!”  

Nightmare’s reverberating growl echoed through the garage as the darkness around the light shifted. “Damn fool. You have failed to account for a great many things, Reed. I didn’t get this far by giving orders from the safety of closed doors, nor listening to whelps like you!” 

Everything moved at once. 

Nightmare formed from the void, fur-trimmed overcoat elegantly slipping from his shoulders as black sharpened tentacles sprang from his back. His once gentle and saccharine smile was now sharp and contorted, almost crazed as he bore his teeth in anger. His eyelight was the brightest you’d ever seen. Dust had appeared from the right, a volley of sharpened bones already formed with his raised gun, Axe charging from the left. 

Just as bullets, magic, and tentacles converged, the light shattered.  

The doors closed.  

Only a couple of other men remained inside with you, frantically trying to get the buttons to work. Reed pushed you over to slam a fist against the doors in his rage. Turning back to you, a sick expression of glee formed on his face as he raised his gun, only stopping when the elevator shook with a bang. 

“Surprise!” 

The upper panel flew open as blue strings snaked in, Killer effortlessly sliding down while simultaneously kicking one man in the face and then stabbing the other in the chest. He was fast, making short work of the two stragglers before turning his attention to Reed. Dodging a round, he pushed forward to use his shoulder to slam him into the far wall, effectively disarming the man. You maneuvered yourself as best you could out of the way while Killer leveled a gun back at Reed's chest.  

With a smug grin and a snap of his fingers, the doors to the elevator opened, grin ticking higher at the sight of his freshly stained boss patiently waiting just outside. “Unfortunate really. I won’t be able to finish the job. Seems the Boss wants a word.”  

Reed wasn’t even able to retort before black tendrils wrapped around his neck and body, dragging him out and squeezing. Admiring the struggling figure dangling above the floor, he waved a hand at the others. 

“Watch over them. I have business to attend to. I think it's time to show the others what awaits them If they DARE touch what’s  M I N E.” 

… 

Tainted but safe arms took you home and away from that hell.  

...  

You weren’t allowed to watch or read the news for a month. You figured you didn’t need to know about it anyway. 

Grandmaster Post Mafia Master

[uwmspeccoll]

Steamy Saturday

Most men fall in love with women. But some men fall in love with themselves.

Jerry Carpenter . . . was flattered to accept a "body beautiful" photographer's offer. . . .

And when he found out the manner in which his photos were being touched up and peddled to perverts, he knew he had to break away. . . . But then he was already in too deep!

MUSCLE BOY, a novel that bares the naked truth about the Beefcake Kings.

Bud Clifton's Muscle Boy may not have a whole lot of romance, but it is steamy for all kinds of other reasons. Published in 1958 by Ace Books, the story centers on the travails of teenage bodybuilder Jerry Carpenter who is naively seduced by an unscrupulous photographer into the netherworld of gay beefcake publications. Along the way, Jerry encounters a full cast of nefarious noir-inflected characters keeping him rooted in the seedy underbelly of light porn. It seemed like easy money, but now he wanted out. Oh, the shame of it all! But all is not lost; there's still his young sweetheart who still believes in him.

Bud Clifton is the pen name of American novelist David Derek Stacton (1923-1968), who under his own name wrote several well-received novels, mainly historical fiction, and works of non-fiction. In his short 15-year career, Stacton published 14 novels and three lengthy non-fiction works. The Guardian called him "the most unjustly neglected American novelist of the post-second world war era." Reportedly gay himself with a penchant for drag, his pulp novels under the Clifton nom de plume, with lurid stories of violent youth, proved particularly popular and were top sellers for Ace. Wikipedia notes this about Muscle Boy:

Muscle Boy, which features in many histories of gay pulp fiction, was inspired by an actual crime ring based in San Francisco, but Clifton transplanted the action to Muscle Beach and populated it with an assortment of flamboyant party boys and hustlers. The reaction of the real life figures identifiable in the novel was one reason he left the San Francisco area, more or less permanently, in 1959.

Ace Books is especially well known for its line of science fiction paperbacks, but in the 1950s it also ventured into a line of juvenile delinquent novels in its now quite collectable "D" series. Muscle Boy is D-330 in the series and bears original cover art by American painter and prolific crime noir cover artist Robert Maguire (1921-2005).

View other gay fiction posts.

View other pulp fiction posts.

[vixensdungeon]

Adventurers from far and wide across the Flanaess have gathered in the Free City of Greyhawk, hungry for gold and glory, all eager to participate in

DelveCon '76!!!

The object of the convention is to delve into the depths of the dungeons beneath Castle Greyhawk and emerge as living legends! Songs will be sung of the exploits of the participants!

Unfortunately there has been an unforeseen complication: Castle Greyhawk is closed for renovations. Rumors abound of something called a "film studio," whatever that is.

And so it came to pass that several of the adventurers in attendance decided to instead seek adventure elsewhere.

You are one of them.

The adventurers, along with their various men-at-arms and the hopeful local adventurers they've hired as henchmen, are gathered outside the city, a small army ready to wreak havoc across the countryside in their search for loot. All they need now is direction.

(this is mostly just a silly thing to demonstrate some of the procedures of AD&D that will either make you recoil in horror or, if you're like me, salivate)

[annabtg]

Hi! For the emoji asks :)

💖 Which of your fics is your pride and joy?

👩‍🏫 - James! Pick a character and I'll tell you their favorite season and why.

Hiii! ❤️

💖I have several I'm really proud of, but I think the crown goes to Nom De Plume!

👩‍🏫I have a real life headcanon that people tend to prefer the season they're born in xD so for James I'd say spring, but I think it would have to be late spring, close to summer! He likes sunshine, when the weather is good for Quidditch ;D and he can spend most of his time outside! He loves to see the nature in bloom, and it's also more fun for Prongs! And he doesn't like to wear many layers of clothes nor does he like Lily to xD.

Fanfic writer emoji ask game part II here!

[chic-a-gigot]

La Mode illustrée, no. 31, 4 août 1878, Paris. Toilettes de Mme Bréant-Castel, r. du Quatre-Septembre, 19. Chapeaux de Mme Deloffre, 4 rue d l'Echiquier. Ville de Paris / Bibliothèque Forney

Robe en cachemire écru, dépassée par un volant plissé en faye nuance bronze. Tous les contours sont bordés d'un triple feston de trois tons bronze. Le bord inférieur et l'un des côtés par derrière sont ornés en outre d'une broderie de plusieurs tons bronze, jusqu'au blanc. Larges poches ornées de même broderie avec nœuds en ruban étroit bronze et écru. Grand corsage en même cachemire. Manches ornées de broderie et de nœuds. Chapeau de paille écrue doublée de faye bronze avec plume nuancée du bronze à l'ècru.

Robe en faye olive, garnie sur son bord inférieur d'une large ruche plissée que surmonte une ruche de gaze fond blanc écru, à dessins rouges et olive, doublée de faye rouge, chaque pli séparé par un nœud en ruban étroit olive et même ruban rouge. Sur la jupe deux écharpes en même gaze bordées d'une dentelle blanc-écru, brodées en rouge, relevées sous des flots de ruban rouge et olive. Corsage très-long en même gaze, garni en plastron de biais olive et de nœuds en ruban rouge et ruban olive. Manches en faye olive. Chapeau de paille orné de cerises et garni de ruban olive. Ombrelle de faye olive, doublée de rouge.

—

Dress in ecru cashmere, surpassed by a pleated flounce in faye bronze shade. All contours are lined with a triple festoon of three bronze tones. The lower edge and one of the sides from behind are additionally decorated with embroidery in several bronze tones, up to white. Large pockets adorned with the same embroidery with narrow bronze and ecru ribbon bows. Large bodice in the same cashmere. Sleeves adorned with embroidery and bows. Ecru straw hat lined with bronze faye with bronze to ecru nuanced feather.

Dress in olive faye, trimmed on its lower edge with a large pleated ruffle surmounted by a ruffle of gauze on an off-white background, with red and olive designs, lined with red faye, each pleat separated by a bow in narrow olive ribbon and the same ribbon red. On the skirt two scarves in the same gauze edged with white-ecru lace, embroidered in red, raised under waves of red and olive ribbon. Very long bodice in the same gauze, trimmed in olive bias plastron and knots in red ribbon and olive ribbon. Olive faye sleeves. Straw hat decorated with cherries and trimmed with olive ribbon. Parasol of olive faye, lined with red.

[slightlyunconventional]

ok ok but picture N/ina trying to help K/az hold back because they have to be quiet on a heist or something (maybe a good old sneezing-while-hiding type thing) and then when they’re out of the situation she releases her powers and he just ERUPTS…could you imagine…😍

i am doing more than imagining UGHHH this was literally too god not to write into a fic

(anyone who wants to disprove any of the h/eartrender science can argue with the wall. who care about canon) Also the intro to this is a bit long sorry

tease (subjecting k/az b/rekker to the classic sneezing while hiding treatment)

K/az and N/ina stuffed themselves into a wardrobe, backs pressed against the wall, panting hard. They had just narrowly escaped several armed guards who tailed them through the winding corridors of the mansion they'd broken into. A 500,000 kruge job - all they'd had to do was infiltrate Herr Frühling's (a rather obnoxious nom-de-plume) manor, and pilfer an expensive jade brooch from his personal safes. Obtaining the brooch had been plain sailing. The latter half of the heist could not be said the same for. I/nej had recorded the guards' schedules the evening prior, but the ostentatious gentleman of the mansion just so happened to refresh the rotas mere hours before their arrival. What K/az thought was the perfect window to sneak in had actually turned out to be the very minute the guards came back on duty.

Now, they were split up. Inej made her own way out, of course, Jesper, Wylan, and a reluctant Matthias chose a rather gunshot-explosion-heavy escape route, so Kaz ended up with Nina, thundering down Frühling's pristine hallways, three guards hot on their heels. Nina had managed to slow the guards for a brief period with her powers, though not for long - there wasn't a whole lot a Grisha could do while running through a house as fast as possible. This had allowed them an advantage, though, as they stormed through the nearest door into what appeared to be a guest bedroom.

The closet was surprisingly spacious, possessing enough room to allow both of them to collapse to the dusty wooden floor in exhaustion.

Nina watched Kaz set his cane down to the side of him and grimace as he bent his knees up in front of him.

"Saints, what a dick," Nina breathed, clearly referring to Frühling's ridiculousness. Much to his dismay, Kaz had had to be the distraction to keep the gentleman away from his safes, while Inej's limited lockpicking skills were put to the test obtaining the brooch. The balding man showed clear interest in what he called Kaz's "little finger tricks" - what really was just sleight of hand. Kaz had humoured him, however, entertaining the idiot with vanishing coins and cards.

"Is it bad I never want to do a magic trick again?" Kaz said.

"Don't blame you," Nina replied with a snort. "Reckon this guards have gone yet?"

Kaz listened for a moment. "Not sure. I haven't heard them pass, but they might still be knocked out."

He shifted in place, grimacing.

"Has this closet ever been cleaned? God, all I'm breathing is this fucking d-duhh-!"

"Dust?" Nina finished with a smirk.

He breathed in sharply. "hahH!- hah'kkschh! huh'kxxsch! Fuck..."

Nina raised her eyebrows, quietly laughing. "I didn't think you could sneeze."

"Zip it, or I'll- hhuh.. I'll--huH'KSChhiew!" Three sneezes in and they were already rising in volume and pitch.

"Or you'll what?" Nina teased, "Sneeze at me?"

She snorted again seeing the way his glower quickly went slack, overtaken by an impending fourth sneeze.

"hUH'iSHHhiew!"

"Crap." Nina's grin dropped.

Kaz emerged from his elbow. "What?"

Three sets of footsteps entered the room. He and Nina turned to each other, eyes wide.

"Shit." Kaz said, voice barely a whisper, "Can you access them from in here?"

Nina shook her head. "We just have to hope for the best.."

The footsteps slowed down; the guards were scanning the room. Nina heard Kaz's steady breathing begin to snag. Oh, Saints, not now she thought.

"hihH-!"

Nina nudged him urgently with her elbow. All he could do was look back helplessly as he struggled against the need to sneeze.

Then, she had a thought. Sure, she couldn't access the guards' pulses from inside the closet, but maybe she could access Kaz. She'd messed with people's breathing before, drawn air from their lungs to leave them gasping and coughing, so how hard could it be to simply, stop someone sneezing? She thought it was worth a try.

Nina raised her hands and drew them together, feeling the thrum of Kaz's pulse and the rise of each desperate breath. She took his breath, and held it. Not so much that he couldn't breathe, but enough to suppress any oncoming outbursts.

Kaz turned to her in horror despite his lax features. Nina's efforts seemed to be working, because, despite the irritated twitch of his nose, he wasn't sneezing any more. He did though, seem to be stuck in a permanent 'about-to-sneeze' face, which Nina thought was positively adorable. She would definitely be telling Inej all about this.

The footsteps drew closer. Nina's heart pounded. One of the guards was standing right outside the closet door. Nina's grip on Kaz's breathing tightened, and she held her own breath, body tense. Kaz was totally still, eyes barely open, brows drawn together, mouth hanging halfway open. Nina thought she'd never seen anyone need to sneeze that badly before.

"They're not here. Move!" commanded a thick Zemeni accent. The footsteps left the room, fading away in tandem down the corridor.

Nina sighed, never more relieved in her life. A part of her wanted to keep her hands together, hold Kaz's breath until his dignity was in tatters, but she very much valued her skull. She let go, separating her hands.

A series of staggered gasps escaped him as his brows drew closer. Kaz ducked into his elbow, burying his face deep in the sleeve of his coat.

"HahH-hUH-HH'KKSCHHhiew! 'ISHHhuh! huH'SSHHhiew!"

"Is this a new world record? 'Ketterdam local sneezes a trillion times in five minutes?" Nina laughed.

"huh'kKSHhew! Ugh. Shut up."

Nina kicked the closet door open from her seated position and hauled herself up into the glamourous guest bedroom. She groaned.

"Oh, my legs."

Kaz didn't stand up. Instead, he sneezed, a messy triple barely covered by the hand he lifted halfway to his face.

"hih'sSCHHhiew! kxXSCHuh! -huhh... huh'KSHHuhh!"

Nina tried not to laugh again as she offered him an arm to stand up. He ignored it, pushing himself up out of the closet. He was rubbing his nose with his free hand, leather gloves clearly doing nothing to help.

"Fancy that - the Bastard of the Barrel and he's got a dust allergy! Hilarious." giggled Nina.

Kaz strode straight past her, out of the bedroom and down the hallway.

[ilbound]

closed. // @zinbu ( ft. sukuna & kaëltyr )

An old myth presides : a monster made of burning-glory gave unto man the GIFT OF FIRE so he shall never again fear the dark ⸺ Merely a story , of course , unless we are to believe the whispers still uttered as if keeping a most venerable s e c r e t .  For whom else may teach the technique , if not the keeper of the power itself ?

Rare and rarer still , in these last several lifetimes , that Kaëltyr has taken on a d i s c i p l e , an a p p r e n t i c e of any kind.  Long ago , it had ventured to isolation , forsaken itself and the company of the creatures it was ordained to guide and protect.  Humanity , after all , was not born with the tolerance to withstand the presence of cursed divinity ( try as it likes despite the fact , no soul alive has ever survived its companionship & courtship ) .  Yet there were , admittedly , a privileged few which managed to thwart the Design.  This man - Ryomen Sukuna - is one of them , brazenly DEMANDING that the Immaculate impart its wisdom unto him ( if only for a price ; all things in consequence ) .

It watches on , now , ever the stalwart tutor , as he struggles and fails to conjure a proper flame.  Fauny features twist , sharpening at the seams in d i s p l e a s u r e as maw splits and spits in smoke-cinder , ❝ Ock !  Ye feckin’ useless man-t’ing !  ‘Ave ye learned not’in’ thus far ?!  Ain’t ye been lissenin’ ta’ a t’ing Ah said ?! ❞  Lash-plume tail whips forward , sparing no force as it w h a p s him along the backside , correcting his posture to attention from a lax stance.  It sneers down at him in disdain , furred ears pinned to a bristling mane of colorful fire rippling in ire around their effeminately bestial features.  Then , a thought dawns : perhaps , it needs to approach this from a more … HUMAN level , a much more BASIC one.

❝ Fine , we’ll try somet’in’ else. ❞  It rumbles , stepping forward , the air h e a v i n g on its presence as it moves with an uncanny grace.  One hand reaches out , large palm pressing atop his chest , over his heart.  ❝ ‘S a feelin’ , ye understand ?  Fire’s a force , an intention , like any other technique.  FEEL IT , EMBRACE IT . ❞  To help , or perhaps to spite , its own power seeps into him from their hand , spreading outwards and racing through his veins , tangling deep into his marrow and spirit ; a rush of heat , a surge of ferocity and otherworldly strength burning through every essence of his being , hopefully setting him to k i n d l e properly.  

[viktorviolettaenterprises]

Rainbow 6 Siege Twitch +Elite Twitch

@cctreasuretrove @sssvitlanz

Emmanuelle Pichon, codenamed Twitch, is an Attacking Operator featured in Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six Siege Pichon grew up in a family of academics in the historic city of  Nancy, France, where the children were encouraged to excel in Math,  Science, and Technology. Early participation in sponsored computer  programming competitions led to her joining the army cadets at sixteen.  Almost immediately her talent was recognized, particularly in robotics.  Her superiors quickly encouraged Pichon to study engineering while  continuing her career in the military with the GIGN.  From the start, Pichon's focus has been on adaptable technology that  aids soldiers in the field. While there is much praise for her  technological achievements, Pichon's tactical prowess and ability to  problem solve quickly and efficiently make her a crucial operational  asset.

In 2015, Pichon was led by Olivier "Lion" Flament on a mission to Nigeria to assist medical personnel fighting the Ebola epidemic. Tragedy ensued, and the decisions Flament made for safety reasons put him at odds with Pichon and Gustave "Doc" Kateb,  who blamed him for the death of several medical personnel on-site  including Kateb's colleague. Later that year, Pichon's unique  combination of talents made her well-suited to join Rainbow.

In 2016, Pichon met Taina "Caveira" Pereira and had some kind of relationship with her, but to what extent remains  currently unknown. While not deployed on missions, Pichon proved  invaluable for Rainbow's R&D Department. She assisted in the  improvement of the team's equipment and was noted to have helped Elena "Mira" Álvarez in the development of Morowa "Clash" Evans' CCE Shield in 2017. In early 2018, Pichon assisted Rainbow's new CBRN Threat Unit with a situation concerning a mysterious mist on the shores of Sussex.  During the operation, Pichon provided Olivier Flament with a new aerial  drone that allowed him to determine the source of the mist plume. In  2019, Pereira went AWOL in Bolivia in order to search for her brother. Pichon and Meghan "Valkyrie" Castellano subsequently collaborated with Ghost Recon to conduct Operation Archangel in order to recover Caveira which proved to be a success.

In June 2020, Pichon and Julien "Rook" Nizan were in Paris, France when two large fires emerged downtown. The GIGN  deployed the pair and several other officers to keep order from the  chaos caused by the fire. Having faced a similar situation during  training under The Program,  Pichon and Nizan suspected the fires had been started in order to  distract from a major bank heist across the city. They tracked and  confronted the robbers who started firing at them. Nizan was shot in the  head but was saved by his helmet. Pichon and Nizan then pursued the  robbers across Paris in a high-speed motorcycle chase and eventually  caught them.

In 2022, Pichon was placed on Rainbow's new humanitarian squad, Wolfguard, under the leadership of Gustave "Doc" Kateb. She and Gilles "Montagne" Touré later traveled to Belgium to recruit Ngoma "Sens" Mutombo into Rainbow. weeks later, Pichon and Doc acted as control for Operation Vector Glare. The pair directed Montagne, Sens, and Olivier "Lion" Flament to rescue of an architect who was being held hostage at a refinery by  local militia. It was believed that this architect held schematics that  would detail how Nighthaven was involved in Masayuki Yahata's assassination. Once the architect was secured, the three operatives rendezvoused with Pichon and the rest of Wolfguard. ✟ Mesh Originally From Ubisoft, Converted to XNALARA By My DeviantART Friend,BlinKJisooXPS and Converted to Sims 4 By Me

✟ HQ  compatible

✟ Custom thumbnail

✟ welcome to tag me [✟] DOWNLOAD HERE

[rainpebble3]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by the marvellous @thequeenofthewinter 

And what a wonderful snippet to be tagged in! I think I would be tagging the same people as her but it just shows my enthusiasm to read their writings :D @paraparadigm, @oblivions-dawn @snippetsrus @rhiannon1199 @friend-of-giants​ and anyone/everyone else who has a WIP they want to share ❤

This is for my Mea fic, Layers of Snow and Ash

Chapter 8 - No title but we’ll call it angst in comic sans.

Nera glanced over her shoulder, wincing at the sheer size of Windhelm. Even after several minutes of constant walking, it was still there, looming over the horizon.

As the sun shone over it, it blinded Nera. Light bounced off the ice and the water, dazzling her. Somehow, the gulls that terrorized the docks were immune to the distracting light and they swooped on the wind, soaring higher and higher before finally diving, presumably to seize a dropped fish or something else edible. As she watched them, Nera shook her head. She had never noticed how bright the sun could be. The immense walls around them always seemed to block most of it out. She shuddered.

Windhelm was a menacing beast at their backs, even from a distance it threatened to devour anything that dared get too close. Nera’s desire to survive once again triumphed over her grief and she quickened her pace. After another few minutes Brelyna stopped suddenly. They had started climbing a small hill where the road drifted alarmingly close to the river as it raged down and out towards the sea. Nera caught her breath while Brelyna muttered quietly to herself, furrowing her brow at the hill ahead. Just up across the river, Nera could see a lumber mill which hummed with quiet activity. Small, dark figures hurried about their business. They weren’t guards and Nera knew she hadn’t committed any crimes, but seeing others around them was jarring. Her heart, which already throbbed from the walk, doubled its speed.

Brelyna sighed, the first noise either of them had made since leaving Windhelm. “We need to cross this bridge and continue west for another few miles.” She folded the map and tucked it into her belt with another sigh, her breath floating up in thick plumes of smoke. She looked over at Nera with narrowed eyes.

“How are you holding up?”

She almost laughed.

How was she holding up? What kind of answer could she give? An easy response would be to say she was tired, and her feet hurt from walking in poor boots. Beyond that, her heart hurt from leaving her family and her chest ached slightly, a residual reminder of Rolff’s attack. Without the walls to block off the wind, it was much colder out here, Nera could feel her fingertips numbing. Eventually she just shook her head, smiling ruefully.

“I don’t know, but it’s good. It’s better than staying there.”

Brelyna made a face while Nera dropped her eyes, staring at her damp boots. Her words had sounded like a lie, even to her own ears. She waited for some kind of comment from Brelyna and held her breath, she had no idea how she felt about all of this. The life that had once brought security was shattered like the patch of ice she had walked over moments before, and normally a hug from mother would fix this, but Nera would never get to have that again.

Mercifully, Brelyna directed her attention to Nera’s thin cloak. “Would it be a waste of time to ask if you had anything warmer to wear?”

Nera unconsciously gripped the slightly frayed edges of her ancient cloak and thought back to the one still lying in her room, that Rei had wrapped around her shoulders. It was a thick woollen, fur trimmed thing and would have kept the bitterest chill out, before it had been tainted. To answer Brelyna’s question, she just shook her head again. Brelyna looked around for a moment.

“Do you need to stop for a rest?”

Irrational panic flared inside her and Nera quickened her pace, frightened that Windhelm would swallow her back up. “No, thanks. I want to put as much distance between us and that city as possible.”

Brelyna shuddered. “You and me both. Just let me know if you need to stop.”

[digitalsatyr23]

Find the word tag

Thanks for the tag, @space-writes! My words are fall, find, wander, and journey.

Fall

Despite the pursuing onoids’ best efforts, the three guards managed to reach the waterfall, but it was a long way down. The three skid to a halt and looked down, and in their hesitation, the onoids caught up. The second survivor dove off immediately while Simon drew his gun, firing on the onoids as quickly as he could. Seeing this, Lucia popped her arm back into place and drew her sword, stabbing into an onoid’s eye as she shouted, “Just jump! Better to die to the fall than to them!”

Find

Though it was rarely relevant to its duty, harvest demons had the uncanny ability to tap into the memories of its host bodies. When it was Degory, it knew where his family slept. As Andre, it remembered the pain and ridicule of being the village outcast, kept prisoner only until he was deemed useful. In addition to the memories of its host, the demon had its own memories. Memories of the abyss, memories of the fallen, of witches, and of their craft. In order to make use of these memories, the demon required a body that was better suited to channeling such magic, and it knew exactly where to find one.

Wander

Many years had passed since Aleisha first began her journey alongside Scheiner. Now he was an old man, and Aleisha was a middle-aged woman of fifty-three long, cold summers. Was this truly the freedom she sought, or was it just another cage with a different coat of paint? She was in too deep now. There was no turning back. With a fresh band of hunters at their side, Scheiner and Aleisha followed the trail into the war-torn land of Besalbrie, arriving just days after the war was declared over. But even as they marched their way through the unknown, there was something oddly familiar about the land. Terrible, dreadful, but familiar. For Aleisha, it was like she had wandered back into those dark woods...

Journey

As the others had, so too did Belgram suit himself in teron plate armor—sturdier than steel, yet lighter than leather. He adjusted his gauntlets, tightened his armor straps, then put on his great helm topped with a plume of fire beetle hairs, all orange and smelling of cinders. With this, Belgram and Eldessa left the burrow and climbed down Kijihn, meeting the other four at the dock next to their longship forged from fine silver (For such metal is immune to the effects of the Acid Sea). After climbing aboard, Belgram gave the order to one of the crewmen, Ysval, who lit the ceremonial rope that tied the ship to the dock, severing their ties with it (And thus their home) until such time as they would return, skull in hand.

“Raise up the sail and hold fast your oars, for a long journey awaits us! We go now in search of glory, honor, and retribution!”

“It shall be done!” shouted the other tero.

With everyone at their station, Eldessa spoke the holy words and wrapped the longship in a magical barrier to protect them from the poisonous fumes of the Acid Sea, then the six tero headhunters set out on their quest...

No pressure tagging goes to: @gummybugg, @scarlett-olivier, and @faelanvance. Your words shall be blood, heart, food, and death. And obviously if anyone else feels like doing this, feel free. :D

[zoethehead]

the Spy and the Phoenix

(TW's apply: Temporary character Death, regret, mourning, grief, resurrection, Wulf kinda dies but he comes back)

-

-

The sickening sound of flesh being stabbed through echoed through the caves, Wulf looked down, seeing the spiked tendril stabbed through his heart; and the tendril retracted, a pool of blood forming on his clothing. Just then; Wulf started to feel lightheaded and weak, collapsing; he was losing a lot of blood at that moment… Chalakon rushed over, quickly grabbing ahold of Wulf.

"Wulf!" Chalakon shrieked.

Wulf opened his eyes weakly, seeing the concerned and teary-eyed face of Chalakon above him.

"Wulf! Please; you have so much life left to live!" Chalakon pleaded, his voice breaking

Wulf coughed up some blood, reaching up a hand to chalakon's cheek, caressing the Troskos' face.

"D-don't cry…. I'll be fine……Just….. forget that I existed…" wulf said, his voice weak….

Wulf's vision faded to black as he took a few last breaths, succumbing to bloodloss caused by his injuries.

-

Chalakon couldn't believe it, the man who he loved… he was dead.

Chalakon felt tears well up again, he didn't want it happening, he didn't wanna lose the man who cared about him, he just didn't! not after so many close calls and brushes with death!

Chalakon let out a yell; a shriek or wail of grief and rage; he couldn't handle it, he couldn't take this pain, he had to do something….

-

Wulf's eyes opened to a dark abyss, one that seemingly happened to be dark waters; just like so many memories of him being keelhauled.. but it felt more serene, and… more somber to him, adrift and dead in murky waters.

"What was I thinking? I-I should have told him how much he mattered to me, n-not telling him to forget me!" Wulf said as he sunk further down in his purgatory. "Maybe I was a bad boyfriend after all… I guess…." he reflected, tears forming. "Maybe, i deserve this fate, to die and be forgotten…." Wulf said, closing his eyes again as he drifted further.

-

Chalakon let out a scream of pure anguish, getting up from his kneeling position and letting go of Wulf.

Chalakon was slightly changed by this point, his eyes were glowing a more vibrant green, as were his fins and some markings on his body. He dashed towards this creature that had just taken the life of his boyfriend, spear in hand and ready to impale this foul beast several times over with his spear for who it had killed-- a man who had meant most to the one who was now seemingly mourning his loss.

Just then, something seemingly Pulled Wulf out of the murky depths that was the afterlife, bringing his soul into another world, the surface… but still not quite.

"Well; A human's here, this is quite a pleasant surprise." a voice chimed.

Wulf opened his eyes, seeing a towering anthropomorphic bird, one with 4 glowing seafoam eyes and markings in the colors of pink, a golden orange, and yellow, surrounded by orange feathers, the print of a flame at the center of its feathered chest. There were 2 eyes adorning their wings, and a couple of crystals; one on a necklace, and the other on their forehead.

Wulf kind of scooched away, soon wincing as he saw the wound where he had been killed, holding a hand over it.

"It's okay, I don't bite." The Bird-folk said, reassuring Wulf.

"Who are you?" Wulf asked.

"I'm known as Phoenix; god of resurrection, light, and fire." Phoenix said, a plume of light appearing in their hand. "but that doesn't really matter, I am here kind of watching over the afterlife while Goena's doing other stuff besides doing her job." Phoenix said.

Wulf sat down on the afterlife's shores.

"I guess that's it, huh? Dead with the only man who loves me in this world left in despair." Wulf said, holding his legs close to his chest, resting an arm over his knees.

"No, not quite." Phoenix said.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Wulf said.

"I'm dead, I said the most meaningless shit as a last word, and I left my boyfriend in a possible state of anguish, just trying to protect him and the Ozilese!" Wulf ranted.

"I can bring you back, I'm a god of resurrection after all, and I can sense that it wasn't your time when you arrived here." Phoenix said, helping Wulf up.

"I don't understand… I'm dead, and death is supposed to be permanent…" Wulf said.

Phoenix chuckled, "Not in Ecresia, Wulf…" they said.

"As of now, You will be alive again, but that also means you're gonna possibly be a vessel for some of my powers, Even if those are taken away somehow; you will live." Phoenix smirked, holding a glowing light in their talon, holding it up to the fatal wound on Wulf's chest.

"Just close your eyes, everything will be fine now… Wulf…." Phoenix said.

A glowing golden light engulfed wulf's soul, as it arose up from the after life into a light; not a light to show more of the afterlife, but a light that lead back to life….

-

Chalakon had murdered the beast, his eyes still misty from tears, he panted as the anger faded, blackish-green gore covering his hands.

He heard some muttering, turning over to see a golden glowing light, he rushed over, seeing some golden light engulfing Wulf's body, veins of light adorning his body, and bright orange wings made of light also appeared. Chalakon rested one hand underneath wulf's head, holding him up.

Just then, wulf took a breath… air filling his lungs, as he coughed, getting used to being alive again….

Wulf's eyes opened, seeing the blurry sight of Chalakon slightly looming above him…

"Hey…" Wulf said.

"Y-you're alive.." Chalakon said; his voice a mix of astonishment and tears.

"Yeah, I guess that I am.." Wulf said.

Wulf was already exhausted from the bloodloss, with the resurrection topping that, it would possibly be awhile til' he felt well enough.

"Wulf, are you okay?" Chalakon asked, worried.

"He'll be quite out of it for awhile, and it will take some time to adjust to being resurrected." An Ozilese elder said, picking up Wulf and carrying him somewhere.

"Wait!" Chalakon shouted, catching up to the elder.

-

It would be minutes, but Wulf's wounds were taken care of, and his body was washed off of any dirt and blood, his wounds were bandaged, and he was laid against a soft queen sized bed.

Chalakon look down somberly at his boyfriend, Caressing the human's cheek with his hand, and planting a kiss on Wulf's forehead.

"Rest well, Wulf.." Chalakon said before he laid down right beside Wulf.

[supernovafeather]

Update about my novel project, click below to get the full post. :D

As my book is coming closer to its ending, I wonder whether or not I should publish it under my actual name or take a nom de plume. I'd be more inclined to use my actual name but at the same time I wonder if a gender neutral name wouldn't make it easier for me as it is sci-fi. Not such a big deal as I do think i'm gonna use my actual name anyway and it's pretty secondary. I'm also starting to work on the cover, the title, summary etc and have several ideas I like.

I'll try to be as independant as possible and go full Internet promotion. It's a risk but I like this challenge. Also I'm about to start creating an Instagram account about it (but keeping it private for now) the time to learn how to promote my work properly. I think I'm going to have to make my own website as well I have several ideas on what to include to give it its own identity and some other work.

The thing is as I'm going to start a new job next week and have to prepare some professional exams in a few months I hope I won't get burned out or something. I have my priorities straight and know what is more important for me but I also know what I love to do and what I do because I have no other choice and as often those things don't combine well. Anyway, that's part of life and I started to accept it a few years ago.

At least if I start having some success with my books (cuz yeah I have other story ideas and all the lore I created is developped enough to write other books in the same universe and I have a few ideas on the themes I could work on) it's going to have some interesting backstory.

Short reminder that it's going to get published in French but I'll try to do it in English as soon as possible (as well as translating the potential future website and my social networks in English at some point). Either translated by myself (what a power move that'd be to write it in several languages myself lmao) or maybe by a professional if I feel unsure about it all. I want everybody to have a good quality work.

So yeah, stay tuned. I hope you can understand that I can't give any precise schedule neither and still have some work ahead (like by a lot). Despite my tumblr audience being 99% English speaking the main support I've received about this personal project went from there, and I appreciate that !

Thanks for reading till the end and have a nice day/night ! <3

[jellimac-sims-stories]

Simfluencer

Jellimac

---

Chapter 2

I love that I live in the city now. Each day brings a new influence. The people, the food, the art, and the architecture. Everything is so different from Oasis Springs. It's exactly what I was hoping for. Every day is so inspiring! Or it could be that there are a lot of things around with an inspiring emotional aura. Either way, I’ve been nonstop painting since I got here. 

What I don'tWhat I don't love is that my pieces don't seem to sell. I tried selling a few of my older pieces to make room for new ones at the flea market outside my building my first weekend here. Only one sold. I left feeling really disappointed. It took me a few days to get over it. Probably doesn't help that I’m trying to sell art outside of the art museum. 

My art style is mainly pop and abstract but only my realism paintings have sold for any significant amount. Back home I used to mostly sell paintings from references of people’s vintage cars from Moonlight Falls and Roaring Heights or landscapes of Glimmerbrook and Old Town. I thought the move out to the city would help me get a new perspective and hopefully new customers. That's all anyone ever talks about when they want to become a famous fashion designer or artist, you know. Going to the city. Becoming inspired in some new way. Gain new customers and become so famous that your pieces sell for motherloads. I`d like to say that money isn’t my motivator but a little padding in the bank wouldn’t hurt.

Jonah is basically the only person who had ever purchased my original pieces. He’s posted about it on his social pages and his fans did like it. Not as much as they liked his shirtless pictures but I did get a few followers from his posts. He’s also donated a few of my pieces to his fans. For him, it's a good way to gain more fame. His fans do seem to love the paintings but I'm sure if it's only because they got them from him. Did I forget to mention that he's a major celebrity? The only one in Oasis Springs. He’s really made a good name for himself and I appreciate all that he does to get mine out there as well.

I’m not completely internet illiterate; I already have an insta, twitter, and a website, but Jonah has been bugging me to make everything more streamlined so after several texts back and forth one afternoon we set everything up. I am now the proud manager of a social media empire named Cosmickitty; since that was already my nom de plume. 

I took my new empire for a test drive. A few photos of my new downtown area, photos of my work around my apartment, inspirational quotes, and some cute selfies shamelessly self-promoting my other pages on each platform as I went. Over the next few days, I watched as twitter followers followed my insta and insta followers followed by twitter. Notification of new followers and likes came chiming in. I guess maybe this wasn't such a bad idea. 

I had almost fifty followers by the end of the first week. The pics of the city got a few likes and the selfies too mostly from tattoo pages saying they like my ink or asking if I could model for them. A few of my posts of me painting got the attention of the other artist flea markets in the area. KryticZeuz invited me to sign up for the flea market in the Spice Market. Thinking it couldn’t be worse than the last flea market, I snagged a street gallery wall for an upcoming weekend and I tweeted that I’d be there. 

The Spice District has a totally different vibe from the Arts Quarter. Honestly, I feel that this should be the Arts Quarter; murals everywhere, everything is so colorful from the building to the food to the people. Looking around I can’t help thinking that I probably should have moved here instead but I knew I wouldn’t want to run into Josh’s ex-girlfriend who lives here. I can’t even begin to tell you how much I don’t like that woman. 

The flea market here was very different from the one near my apartment. Less art and more handcrafted or collected items. The table next to me was full of crystals. I bought a rare alexandrite from Selvadorada while I waited for buyers to come up to my stall. I was beginning to have the same experience that I’ve had in the past in terms of selling but then this one guy came up to my selling wall that I didn’t expect. He didn’t even look like the type to shop at a flea market. He was a few shakes away from tall, dark, and handsome. Yeah, he was tall but lean and perfectly dressed with chestnut brown locs that had the sort of style that is meant to look messy on purpose. Way too sophisticated for my style. 

It’s a borderline heatwave this Sunday but there he was looking fresh and cool in his suit as he perused my art pinned up for sale. He looked as if he’d just come from some important meeting about something really important for someone really important with some important people. He had that sort of air about him even with his suit jacket open and a few buttons on his dress shirt unbuttoned. I took a deep breath, told myself to not be intimidated, and queued up my best sales pitch as I approached him, “Hello sir. I'm glad you've come by my display today. Is there any piece in particular that you'd like to know more about?”

“I like your figure painting but I'm afraid I like pieces that have much more...interesting subjects,” his voice was much deeper than I would have anticipated and I caught a hint of a southern drawl...

Can't wait for more? Read the whole story on my AO3