#What is Lit Fiber Market?

[me-amaraja]

[arthurbristow]

Keep it close - Shigaraki x Reader

"Keep close," Shigaraki muttered, his crimson eyes scanning the bustling market around them. "I don't want to lose you in this crowd." His white hair fell messily over his face.

It was an unexpected outing, to say the least. The League of Villains rarely ventured out in daylight, especially to something as mundane as a game market. The two of you had left the hideout that afternoon, Shigaraki’s rare urge to indulge in some new video games coinciding with the League’s need for supplies. Dabi had been particularly insistent, his grumbling about running out of cigarettes becoming unbearable. So, with a list of groceries in hand, you accompanied Shigaraki to the market.

“Look at them, scrambling around for their mundane little pleasures,” he continued, hands twitching slightly as he spoke. “Pathetic.”

Navigating through the crowded streets, your eyes couldn’t help but notice the occasional glances and whispers directed your way. Shigaraki’s presence was hard to ignore, even if people didn’t recognize him. And you felt a wave of unease. The noise, the press of bodies, the constant motion—it was overwhelming. Your senses were on high alert, every fiber of your being screaming to find a point of stability. Shigaraki walked ahead, his posture tense but focused, clearly absorbed in his hunt for the perfect game.

The press of bodies around you intensified, and an accidental shove from an overenthusiastic passerby sent you stumbling. Without thinking, your hand shot out, grasping Shigaraki’s. The contact was immediate, grounding. Only a heartbeat later did you realize the full extent of your actions. His hand was bare — no protective gloves. A cold shiver ran down your spine. One wrong move, one slip of control, and you could be reduced to dust. Shigaraki’s Decay quirk was lethal, merciless. 

He stiffened, his head whipping around to look at you. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous, but not entirely devoid of curiosity.

“I…” You swallowed hard, the words catching in your throat. “I just… needed to hold on to something.”

His laugh was a harsh bark, but there was no malice in it. “You’re insane.” Tomura didn’t pull his hand away though, didn’t dissolve you into nothingness. Instead, his grip tightened slightly, with his pinky raised up in the air to protect you from being decayed on the spot.

The two of you moved through the market like that, hand in hand. It felt strangely intimate, a connection that defied the perilous nature of his quirk. The crowd seemed less daunting with him by your side, your anxiety ebbing away with each step.

Shigaraki led you to a stall filled with the latest games. His eyes lit up as he browsed through the titles, a rare smile playing on his lips. It was a side of him you didn’t see often, this almost childlike excitement. You couldn’t help but smile too, caught up in his rare moment of happiness.

“Found it,” he said, holding up a game with a triumphant look. “This is the one.”

“Great,” you replied, your voice steadying. “Now, let’s get those groceries before Dabi sets the hideout on fire.”

Shigaraki chuckled, “Yeah.”

As you moved to the grocery section, the crowd thickened again. Instinctively, you tightened your grip on his hand. This time, he didn’t question it, at all.

You quickly gathered the items on your list, your movements efficient despite the mass of people. Cigarettes for Dabi, snacks for Toga, and various other necessities for the rest of the League. 

Through it all, Shigaraki stayed by your side, keeping his head lowered, reading the information written on the box of his new game, your hand still in his.

Holding Shigaraki's hand was a paradox of sensations. His skin, surprisingly warm, radiated a heat that contrasted sharply with the chilling fear of his lethal touch. The rough texture of his calloused palm told stories of countless battles and hardships. Yet, beneath the coarse exterior, there was a vulnerability — a silent plea for connection. The knowledge that a single slip could mean your end made the experience electrifying, heightening every sense. It was like holding a live wire: dangerous, exhilarating, and oddly comforting all at once. In that grip, there was a fragile trust, a delicate balance between life and decay, and an unspoken promise that for now, in this moment, you were safe.

Eventually, you managed to complete your shopping list. Dabi's cigarettes, snacks and manga for Toga, and even a few items for yourself. Shigaraki, meanwhile, had amassed a small pile of new games, his crimson eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

As you reached the entrance, you reluctantly let go of his hand. 

He glanced at you, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "You apparently liked holding my hand, hmm?" Tomura cooed, his tone softer than you’d ever heard.

"Yeah…" You replied, feeling a warmth spread through your chest and flush claiming your cheeks.

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards. "Just don’t make a habit of grabbing my hand. Next time, I might not be so careful."

[mt-oe]

𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝘼𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙈𝙚—ex bandmate mizu

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Hey dears!

Back with one of my favorite tropes! I high key feel bad for being away for so long and for being too shy to actually interact with anyone so I'll try to make up for it as much as I can.

Will you be the bad guy in this one? Not sure, that's for you to decide. I hope all of you will enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it <3

Hope you enjoy! Mwa mwa ;*

warning/s: not proofread, angst, cursing, violence (mdni!), toxic, she/her for mizu, implied afab reader

note: I tried fixing some parts because I wrote this while I was drunk and I realized that some parts sucked. I'm sorry, dears!

The sound of cars whizzing past, horns beeping, and the endless conversations of people chatting on the street filled the night. The wind blew harshly, the cold biting at your flushed cheeks. Stars glimmering as bright as your narrowed eyes as you ran, footsteps heavy on the concrete.

Bright lights lit up the city, commercials everywhere of something stupid. Probably the next new hyped up skincare product that was overpriced and didn't work or the next new corny romance film they're trying to sell out. Celebrities' faces plastered on every building, some pretty, some borderline lewd, some dramatic.

God, you hated these fucking displays, always so obnoxious and overly marketed...

Especially her fucking face.

Mizu's stupid fucking face plastered all around the buildings, informing you of her concert in your home city as a way of ending her first oh-so-grand world tour. The new hit guitarist made by Abijah Fowler, the manager of the biggest fucking band in the world. A legend. Anyone he handled turns into a star by the first debut.

Oh, fuck you.

These displays were truly obnoxious, even more so with her stupid fucking face, her stupid hands holding her same old guitar, and her gorgeously blue eyes on display for every passerby to see. For you to see every time you went to work, went to get the groceries, went to...whatever.

Blue eyes reminding you of the times when you were her manager. Of when both of you were young and stupid, when playing in a band was just something you did to unwind and have something to do aside from rot. Reminding you of your promise to make her a star, that talent recognizes talent.

And indeed, she was talent.

She was the greatest fucking talent the world ever saw. Her hands played the guitar as if it was natural to her. As if whatever deity that created her wanted mankind to know what music actually sounded like. Like her hands were made for this. Like she was made for this.

Every time she went on stage, countless would scream for her, cheer for her, throw what ever expensive lingerie they had for her. It took months, maybe even a year, to be able to schedule an interview with her. Her fans would sell their soul for a chance to breathe the same air as her, yet alone be in the same room with her.

Which ever city she went, concert or no concert, paparazzi was waiting for her. Each stage she rocked, she made the floors shake with how hyped her audience got. Everyone who attended had post-concert syndrome. They were star struck. She exuded confidence. She was an icon. Not even the lead singer but she was the front man.

An eye catcher.

Talent personified.

A star.

Your fucking star.

And you hated this bitch with every fiber of your body, with every cell that passed and will pass through your veins, with every nerve, with everything you had. You made her a star, gave her to the best fucking manager known to man. For fuck's sake she even finished a world tour. And this is how she repays you?

Your hands pushed the crowds of people away, legs burning as you tried to run into the backstage. The sounds of people yelling at you, glaring at your figure as you cut through lines echoing across the waiting area.

Was this illegal? Probably.

Who cares?

You were getting this bitch even if you had to be dragged out by every armed force known to man.

Just as you were about to reach the doors, security immediately held you back. Bodyguards grabbing you as you thrashed around, trying to kick them off while pulling your arms away from them. "Let me go! Let me fucking see this bitch!" you screamed at them, nails digging into their skin as they held you back.

"Mizu you fucking bitch! I know you're there! Explain yourself!" you yelled, hissing in pain as security tried to drag you out, yelling at you to leave. Your hair out of the bun you put it in, seams at the corners of your shirt ripping slightly, legs scratched. Their hands leaving red marks on your skin, and yet you continued to try and fight them off, yelling obscenities as they held you down. "Fuck! Get off of me! You motherfucker! You ungrateful bitch!"

With a twist of your arm and an unexpected bite at their hands, you finally broke free from their grasps, only to be tackled to the ground as soon as you tried to sprint towards the door. The impact of your head on the ground making you extremely light-headed. Your vision growing blurry as the warm red liquid started dripping from your nose onto the concrete. You could feel them lifting your body; but just as you were about to drag your body out, you heard a voice. The same fucking voice you were searching for.

"Unhand her. Don't worry she's with me."

Upon her words, the guards looked at each other and security hesitantly let go of you, going back to their stations. With a groan, you sat up straight, blowing the blood out of your nostril before wiping the leftover crimson with the back of your hand as she approached you with an unreadable expression.

Just as you looked up, your breath got caught in your throat as your eyes met. Blue orbs meeting with yours. Those gorgeous blue eyes. Drowning you.

Slowly, you stood up, trying your best to balance yourself. Her eyebrows knitting at how beaten up you looked. But just as she was about to open her mouth...

SLAP

...her cheek was met with a harsh stinging pain, knocking her back slightly. Her chest rose up and down as she panted, trying to register what had just happened, hand slowly clutching her cheek.

Sharp blue eyes glared at you as soon as she composed herself. She watched as you shook the pain from your hand, glaring at her with such loathing. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" she growled, grabbing you by the collar.

I asked you a question, I wanna know why Why'd you have to make a record 'bout me?

"What the fuck am I doing? What the fuck do you think you're doing?" you yelled at her, eyes narrowing further as you continued to glare at her, no longer caring if her hold on your collar was choking you. "Answer me, Mizu. Why'd you have to make a fucking song about me, you stupid jackass?"

Her eyes scanned your face, looking over every detail as her grip on your collar tightened. Even with a scratched up face and a bloody nose, you were still so beautiful to her. The most beautiful woman she has ever met.

"That's what you're here for? Hah..fuck...I'm with my own band. Stay out of my business," she said in low voice, pulling you closer, jaw clenching as if holding back some sort of unexplainable anger towards you as well. An exasperated yet angered expression washed over your face at her words.

"Stay out of your business?" you repeated before letting out an angry sarcastic laugh. "How can I when you fucking used my picture? Our picture? On a fucking diss album, for fuck's sake! Are you stupid?!" you yelled, hand gripping her hand around your collar tightly until your knuckles turned white, until your nails were digging into her skin.

That's right.

A whole fucking record about you. A whole motherfucking album dedicated to you. This is how this jackass repays you.

The track list started with innocent cute little love songs about how much she admired you, how much she fucking tried for you, how she constantly played her heart out just for you to realize how in love she was with you.

Then, it went on to heavier songs, talking about how you sold her. How you were a fucking traitor who threw her into the pit, making her feel as if you would be there for her no matter where the band's musical journey took off to only to leave her.

And you wouldn't have minded if it was just some kind of corny ass typical romance album with cheesy lyrics a little angst. Every band had that at some point. Maybe it wasn't even dedicated for you. You hoped it wasn't dedicated to you. However, the moment you saw the album cover, you could physically feel the color draining out of your face.

But it's alright 'Cause it was all in my mind To begin with (And you don't know why)

It was a picture of you and Mizu in the old studio. Your body turned to the side as you wrote something on your clipboard. Mizu was at the background tuning her guitar. Of course they had the decency to blur out your face, but you knew.

You fucking knew.

God, you loved this picture so much.

"Mizu...do you think we should add crushcrushcrush to our song list for the next gig," you asked, eyes trained on your clipboard. Your eyebrows furrowed in thought. Damn, this client was stingy. Only 3 songs? How were you going to fit a whole ass gig into three songs?

She looked up from her guitar before her eyes glanced at Akemi who was just beside you, giggling as she looked at her digital camera then back at her with a sly smile, showing the camera to her mischievously. Mizu immediately turned around in fear of her face being captured in the photo, fiddling with her guitar while she thought of an answer. "...Well if you want a Paramore song, I think Ignorance would be better," she said quietly but loud enough for you to hear.

"Although...I still think One Weak is better. Make Taigen sing or something," she suggested, plucking the strings of her guitar as she tuned it. A small 'I second that' could be heard from Akemi as she pointed the camera towards you. Your eyes widened in delight at the suggestion, immediately writing it down on your clipboard. "That's not a bad idea! Not bad at a—"

You were cut off by the loud click sound of a camera, followed by the bright lights of the camera flash. "Oops.." Akemi mumbled sheepishly as she watched you rub your eyes. Just as she was going to hide the camera in her bag, you waved your hand around before gesturing her to give it to you.

Mizu couldn't help but be curious, setting her guitar down to take a peek. "Woah..." you mumbled, grinning at the picture.

It was perfect.

The slight tint from how old the camera was gave it a vintage look. The way your skirt rode up slightly from how you crossed your legs gave it a slightly lewd feel. And along with your combat boots? It definitely had that edge. Y'know? Like that little irresistible charm that made you stare at album covers like Around the Fur.

Mhmm.. don't even deny it. We've all stared at that album cover before.

Even the way Mizu was standing at the background looked so badass. Her back turned from the camera, so sturdy and strong. She definitely had that natural mysterious vibe that drew everyone in.

Everything about this picture...made your heart race.

"Looks like an album cover," Mizu commented, sitting down next to you. A small blush appearing on her cheeks as her eyes traced your legs. The three of you nodded in agreement, each with your own smiles. "Hmm.. maybe if we make it big somehow. We could use this," Akemi suggested.

You nodded, smiling at the photo fondly. "Yeah, let's make it big together," you mumbled, eyes still staring at the picture. God, you loved this picture so much.

God, you hated this picture so much.

Keep the chaos 'cause you don't know why

"Oh don't be such a fucking narcissist. Just because we used a picture you loved so damn much, doesn't mean its for you," she growled, hairs on the back of her neck standing up from anger.

Slowly, her hands gripped your collar tighter, ignoring the pain your nails were inflicting on her, shoving you until your back collided with the cool metal of the trailer. Your body trapped between the vehicle and her body. The tension was so thick it was suffocating you.

You could feel the air being squeezed out from your throat as you continued to glare at her, not letting this go. "Then tell me, Mizu." A small cough escaping your throat as your breathing turned into wheezing. "Who...who is this stupid fucking album for?"

Her eyes narrowed at your question, continuing to stare at you intensely but gave no answer. Although the slight tremble and weakening of her grip told you that you definitely struck a nerve. The silence was unnerving and even with the lack of oxygen, it was pissing you off.

"Answer me, you bitch!" With the remaining energy you had, you lifted your leg before stomping it towards her, digging your foot onto her stomach.

Immediately, her hands let go of your collar as she reeled back, coughing and wheezing. Your hands rubbed at the area where the friction from your collar burned your skin, trying to soothe it as you tried your best to regain your breath.

It was a good try, but Mizu was strong. So strong and well-built. The body that used to keep you close, holding the umbrella for you, trying to hide the shiver in the cold so she could lend you her jacket, was now pinning you to the ground. Knees weighing down on your hands and her weight pushed on to you. You loved her. You hated her. You love her so much.

I heard your song but I wasn't impressed So, you got your feels hurt and now you're feeling depressed Just because we had sex and it didn't last? Now you want revenge, you wanna put me on blast?

"Give me one good reason to not kill you right now," she said in a low voice. Her long, rough, slender fingers wrapping around your neck, squeezing it lightly. You could feel the hesitance in her hold, the slight tremble of her hands and the almost invisible quivering of her lips, contrasting the harshness of her expression.

"You're such a fucking bitch," you coughed out, eyes narrowing as you tried to lift her weight off your body. "Tell me who that motherfucking album is for! Spit it the fuck out!"

Eyes narrowed further as she gritted her teeth, jaw clenching. Her hands squeezing against your throat further, other hand balling into a fist as she lifted it out. Anger emanated from her gaze, burning deeply as she looked at you. If eyes were the windows to the soul, then her soul must be either dead or burning with rage more than ever. And yours? Yours filled with a type of hatred that seemed to deep to be quenched.

No, don't look at her like that.

Fists raised and clenched tightly, mind violent and filled with rage. And yet, she could see no fear in you. Even with the threat of pain, you looked at her with no fear, as if you thought she could never hurt you. Even with the threat of pain, you felt no fear, as if you knew she could never hurt you. Mizu could never do that to you.

So please, don't look at her like that

Her breathing became heavier as she continued to glare at you, fist shaking until eventually letting go. She let out an exhale, eyes glossing over ever-so-slightly. 'What the hell am I doing?', she thought, throat tightening as a lump formed, making it hard for her to breathe. Your form under her, too beautiful, too lovely.

She couldn't do it. Not to you.

Slowly, she got off of your body, sitting on the spot next to you as the two of you looked up at the sky, except her eyes were on your figure. You took a deep breath before eventually looking at her, admiring her features. "You changed so much.." you mumbled, glare softening but still there. "Tell me. That album...was for me, wasn't it?"

A sigh escaped her lips before she gave a slow, hesitant nod. "Why?" you asked, sitting up slowly.

"Why'd you have to.."

"Because you're a fucking liar."

Your eyes widened before narrowing into the harsh glare it was before. "Liar? How am I a liar?" you almost yelled, voice a bit raspy.

Her eyes glared back at you, nails digging into her own skin of her palms. "You fucking sold my contract. To Fowler of all people!" she exclaimed. "Have you ever considered how I felt? Did you even think of me?"

"Of course I thought of you! If I didn't hand over your contract to Fowler, you wouldn't be where you fucking are!" you yelled back, turning to face her. "Look at you now! The biggest and fastest rising star! People are praising you like you're some sort of modern Kurt Cobain, Mizu! Can't you be fucking grateful?!"

Grateful?

Don't make me laugh

She stood up and grabbed you by the shoulders before pulling you up harshly, your sides almost colliding with the trailer yet again. Rage enveloping her being, radiating from her as she approached you, fingers digging into your shoulders. "You didn't think about me! Fuck, you didn't think about any of us at all!"

"How about Ringo? Taigen? Akemi? Where the fuck are they now after you disbanded us, left us all rotting, for Abijah's stupid fuckin' agenda?!" she almost croaked out, face getting closer to yours. Her jaw clenching as her hands trembled in both anger and the desire to be soft with you.

You couldn't believe what she was saying right now. You didn't even think of her? How could she say that after you gave her to the best, to make her dreams come true? Harshly, you pushed her off of you. Now it was your turn to grab her by the collar, pulling her to your height. "Abijah's 'stupid fucking agenda' is what got you where you are, Mizu,'' you growled. "Talent recognizes talent and Abijah is the most talented manager in the industry and he wanted you. The kingmaker wanted you."

A strange sense of disappointment towards you swirled into her eyes. It was stupid of her to think that if she met you again, things would go back to the way they were. An unexplainable retching in her gut welling up as she listened to you speak. Was this it? Was this why you sold her fucking contract?

"You wanted to be a star, he made you a star. I made you a—"

"I never fucking wanted to be a star!" she yelled, glare hardening. Confusion painted over your face, making the anger in your eyes falter. Her disappointment and dismay in full view as opposed to the anger she held earlier. "I don't understand, Mizu. Isn't this why you joined—"

"I fucking joined your stupid band to be with you, dumbass," she sighed, pulling your hands off of her collar. "It was never about making it big. I just...wanted to play and be with you."

Her hands held yours softly as she looked away. "You told me we'd stay together as a band. That we'd be together no matter if we made it big or not." The grip she had on your hands trembling slightly as it tightened. She took a deep breath to calm herself down before looking at you straight in the eyes. "But you're a fucking liar, aren't you?"

For the first time since you've heard of Mizu's concert in your home city, you were speechless. Thoughts empty as you tried to process her words. Hatred quelled deep in your heart. "Mizu.. I really don't understand," you replied, hands desperately trying to hold hers as she tried to pull away.

She looked down at you with a sigh. The heavy feeling weighing down both your chests. With one look at your eyes, she knew this was too difficult for both of you. And maybe, this was just how the world worked.

She loved you. She loves you. But she can't help but hate you too.

"Go. Get the fuck out of here," she said coldly, turning to head back, making you even more confused and even a bit more pissed off. An unexplainable anger gnawing at her insides, making her throat tighten. "I don't want to see you ever again."

Her feet made its way towards the backstage. Ringing echoing in her ears as you plead her to come back, to explain, to talk to you. She heard nothing because she knew nothing would get her feelings into your dense little brain. This was pointless.

Before opening the door to head into the backstage, she took one last look at you. Her eyes tracing your figure, admiring your features that she had grown to love so much. Even with your bruises, anger, and hatred, you really were the most beautiful woman she has ever seen.

Just as she was about to turn away, your hands traveled to the hem of your skirt, pulling it up to your waist, sticking your tongue out as if to mock her cowardice. A blush appeared on her cheeks as she caught a glimpse of your underwear.

'It's pink', she thought with a groan, glaring at you before storming inside and slamming the door behind her. Once she was inside, she hid her face behind her hands, breathing heavily. How fucked up did you have to be to tug at her heart at a time like this?

She really did hate you. You really did hate her.

The feeling was mutual.

[voilavoilecurtains]

Sheer Linen Drapes: Light, Airy Elegance for Every Room

In home décor, few elements strike a balance between elegance and simplicity quite like sheer linen drapes. Light, breathable, and effortlessly stylish, these window treatments are a timeless addition to any room. Whether you're decorating a modern minimalist home or adding a soft touch to a more traditional space, sheer linen curtains create a calming ambiance that enhances natural light while offering subtle privacy.

With growing interest in airy, natural materials, sheer linen drapes have become one of the most sought-after window treatment options on the market. In this blog, we’ll explore what makes sheer linen drapes so desirable, their many benefits, how to style them, and what to look for when shopping for them online.

What Are Sheer Linen Drapes?

Sheer linen drapes are lightweight curtains made from linen or linen-blend fabrics. They are semi-transparent, which allows natural light to flow into your home while softly diffusing glare and providing a level of visual privacy. Unlike heavy drapes, sheer linen curtains create an open and airy feel—making them ideal for brightening up smaller spaces or softening large windows.

These drapes are often chosen for their natural texture, timeless appeal, and ability to complement almost any design style.

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Soft, Diffused Light

Let in natural sunlight while filtering harsh UV rays.

Perfect for rooms where you want to maintain brightness without glare.

Create a tranquil, soft-focus effect in bedrooms, living rooms, and dining areas.

Natural Fabric Appeal

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Its organic texture adds character and depth to any space.

Linen’s breathable weave makes it suitable for all seasons.

Visual Lightness and Space Enhancement

Ideal for small rooms or spaces with limited natural light.

Give the illusion of higher ceilings and larger windows.

Keep rooms feeling light and uncluttered.

Versatile Design Options

Available in a range of neutral tones such as ivory, white, beige, and soft greys.

Complements a wide variety of interior styles from coastal to Scandinavian, farmhouse to urban loft.

Works well layered under heavier curtains or used alone for minimalist charm.

Easy Maintenance

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Machine-washable or dry-cleanable depending on the blend.

Ages gracefully with a relaxed, lived-in look.

Styling Ideas for Sheer Linen Drapes

Whether you're styling a single room or coordinating your whole home, sheer linen drapes can be adapted to fit your design goals. Here are a few ways to incorporate them into your décor:

Layered Elegance

Pair sheer linen drapes with blackout curtains or heavier fabrics for a layered look.

Use sheers during the day for light and privacy, and draw the heavier drapes at night.

Perfect for bedrooms or living rooms where both style and function matter.

Ceiling-to-Floor Panels

Mount curtains close to the ceiling and allow them to fall to the floor for added height.

Creates a dramatic, yet breezy visual effect.

Ideal for rooms with high ceilings or tall windows.

Tiebacks and Styling Accessories

Use linen or rope tiebacks to gently gather panels and let in more light.

Incorporate rustic or modern curtain rods to match your room’s personality.

Minimal hardware works well with linen’s understated charm.

Frameless Look for Bay Windows

Install sheer linen curtains across bay windows to create a seamless, curtain-wall effect.

Enhances architecture while softening the natural light.

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Ideal Rooms for Sheer Linen Drapes

Living Room

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Allows natural light to highlight your furniture and décor.

Perfect for casual entertaining and daily relaxation.

Bedroom

Offers privacy while maintaining a soothing atmosphere.

Helps create a peaceful retreat, especially in combination with blackout blinds or drapes.

Use soft neutral colors for a calming effect.

Dining Room

Adds a layer of elegance without overwhelming the space.

Encourages a light, cheerful environment for meals.

Ideal for areas that benefit from a balance of light and privacy.

Home Office

Brightens your workspace with natural light to boost productivity.

Reduces glare on screens without making the room too dark.

Pairs well with modern and clean-lined furniture.

How to Choose Sheer Linen Drapes Online

Buying sheer linen curtains online can be easy if you know what to look for. Here are the key factors to consider when shopping:

Fabric Composition

Pure linen offers a crisp texture and natural finish.

Linen-blend fabrics (often mixed with cotton or polyester) are more affordable and less prone to wrinkling.

Choose based on your preference for texture and maintenance.

Opacity and Weight

Some sheers are more translucent than others.

Check product descriptions or request swatches to assess thickness.

Choose lighter options for sunlit rooms and heavier sheers for more privacy.

Color Options

Whites and off-whites are timeless and reflect natural light.

Soft greys and earthy tones add sophistication while blending with modern interiors.

Avoid very dark sheers unless layering over a light base.

Heading Style

Rod pocket: Simple and budget-friendly, ideal for casual spaces.

Grommet top: Sleek and modern, easy to slide open and closed.

Pinch pleat: More formal, suitable for traditional or elegant designs.

Length and Width

Measure your windows carefully using guides provided by the retailer.

Consider full-length curtains for a luxurious look.

Extra-wide panels offer better coverage for large windows or sliding doors.

Maintaining Your Sheer Linen Drapes

Keeping sheer linen drapes looking their best doesn’t require a lot of effort:

Dust or vacuum regularly using a soft-brush attachment.

Wash with cold water and mild detergent to maintain color and texture.

Hang them while still damp to minimize wrinkles.

Avoid direct heat or tumble drying, which can damage the fibers.

If using linen-blend fabrics, follow care instructions provided by the manufacturer, as some may allow gentle machine drying.

Why Buy Sheer Linen Drapes from an eCommerce Store?

Online shopping makes it easier than ever to find quality sheer linen curtains at competitive prices:

Wider Selection: Browse various styles, fabrics, and colors from the comfort of home.

Customization Options: Many retailers allow you to choose the exact size, lining, and header style.

Customer Reviews: Learn from the experiences of other buyers to make informed decisions.

Free Swatches: Most reputable stores offer fabric samples so you can see and feel the material before buying.

Convenient Delivery: Curtains delivered directly to your door, often with easy installation guides included.

Final Thoughts

Sheer linen drapes are an ideal blend of beauty and functionality. They soften the light, enhance your home’s ambiance, and bring an organic, effortless elegance to any room. With their timeless charm and adaptable style, sheer linen curtains are perfect for those who want their home to feel open, airy, and welcoming.

Whether you're styling a serene bedroom, a bright living space, or a modern workspace, sheer linen drapes are a versatile and affordable way to elevate your décor. As you explore your options online, look for custom sizing, quality fabric blends, and clear product details to find the best fit for your needs.

Ready to transform your space with light and luxury? Discover sheer linen drapes today and bring a touch of nature indoors.

[sagemonsters]

@inkysqueed has a blind date with...

Atesh the Fire Elemental

Atesh is a tall, stern-looking humanoid with dark gray skin the color of soot. Craggy, antler-like protrusions curve backward from his skull, glowing as though their cores are full of embers… and perhaps they are! His eye sockets are filled with fire, and the strands of his long hair (which he typically keeps in a waist-length single braid) are equally fiery and fierce. His body temperature is quite hot, and he most often wears a leather workman’s apron over plain, durable clothes.

Atesh has forsaken his family’s typical profession (some kind of smithing such as silversmithing, goldsmithing, or blacksmithing) and has dedicated himself to mastering the art of glassblowing. The shelves of his workshop are full of intricate, beautiful glass sculptures, some small enough to fit in the palm of a child’s hand and others too large to be carried in the arms of an adult. He is devoted to his craft (he is autistic) and can talk for hours about the history of glassblowing techniques in Egypt, Venice, and the modern world, but respects other art forms as well. He takes your fics just as seriously as he does his own creative pursuits, and is always happy to listen to you talk about your writing.

Atesh’s love language is gift-giving, and he will often surprise you with small sculptures. Some are abstract conversation pieces you can put on your desk or nightstand, while others are sculptures of your favorite Pokémon. He is always touched if/when you give him something in return, and never throws any of your gifts away.

Atesh is ordinarily a very grave person and takes everything seriously, but your jokes and silliness can make him smile like nothing else. He loves your sense of humor and comes to you whenever he needs cheering up after a particularly difficult day in the workshop or from dealing with social events full of people he doesn’t know (generally artist exhibitions and craft fairs).

Atesh completely understands your struggles with familial acceptance and authenticity. As an autistic fire elemental, he often feels like his allistic parents and siblings don’t really understand him or his passion, so he has to censor himself around them to avoid ridicule. Atesh wants to create an environment where you can be 100% yourself around him and his friends without fearing an emotional reprisal.

Part of what you loved about going to the fair was seeing everything that people made to sell in the little market section. Sure, the sheepdog trials were fun, and fair food was always delicious, but it was really seeing all of the crocheted and knitted things that fiber artists had made, as well as the jams, jellies, and other preserves, and the soaps and lotions from local makers, and the creations of the jewelry-makers, as well as the artwork of the painters, sculptors, furniture-makers, and woodcarvers… When you got right down to it, a lot of the joy of the fair’s market came from seeing the variety of things that people had made, and the obvious joy and pride that the creators took in their creations.

You didn’t have any spare cash this time around, so you were just browsing the stalls and giving compliments whenever a vendor seemed to be running low on patronage. As you wandered, you found yourself making your way toward a tall, square tent-booth with a dark canvas exterior that had been lit from within by what seemed like a thousand twinkling, color-shifting fairy lights that had been taped to the interior walls. At the entrance, your eyes widened: the inside of the tent was lined with shelves full of glass sculptures, all of them catching and reflecting the multicolored light in a dazzling display. There was a sign next to the cash register that read: YOU BREAK IT, YOU BUY IT.

“Anything catch your eye?” a deep voice asked, and you startled a bit. A fire elemental with appropriately fiery hair and eyes poked his head out from around one of the shelves.

“Just looking!” you said with a smile. Your eyes wandered over the glass confections that crowded the shelves of the tent. They really were beautiful, and most were abstract; here was a textured plane whose whorls and divots seemed to suggest a face, and there was a spiny concoction that seemed reminiscent of either a sea urchin or a star…

“I think I have something for you,” the fire elemental said, and plucked something off one of the shelves. He approached. Up close, he towered over you, and his broad shoulders strained against the seams of his shirt. It took an effort of will for you to pull your eyes down to the two glass earrings he held in the palm of one hand.

The earrings reminded you of arched cathedral windows, with tiny silver frames filled by deep blue glass that swung on pivot rings from their hooks to catch and reflect the light.

“These are lovely,” you said with an apologetic smile, “but I can’t afford them.”

“They are a gift,” the fire elemental said, without a single note of irony in his voice that suggested he was playing a joke on you. 

Your brows knit with concern. “Are you sure?” you asked.

“Absolutely,” the elemental assured you. “If you’re not really an earrings person, I also have a pendant…” He half-turned back to the shelves of his shop, clearly getting ready to start searching through his inventory.

“Why are you giving this to me?” you asked. “I’m not important or anything.”

The elemental turned back around and frowned gently at you. “Well, that’s not true,” he scolded. “Everyone is important. And I’m offering you a gift because…” He sighed. “Because it’s very difficult for me to talk to people I find attractive, and I think you have extraordinarily kind eyes. I like that in a person, so… please accept the earrings—or a pendant.”

You felt your cheeks heating with a blush at the compliment. “Thank you,” you said, and told him your name.

“I’m Atesh, by the way,” the fire elemental said. “I hope we can stay in touch, if you’re open to that.”

“I’d love that!” you said, and quickly got your phone out of your pocket to add Atesh into your contacts.

see here to get your own blind date with a monster!

[merrymisst]

How to Overcome Common Leasing Challenges and Maximize Demand for Office Space for Lease in Montgomery, AL

When it comes to commercial real estate in Montgomery, Alabama, office landlords face unique challenges. While the city has a stable economy, a growing small business scene, and government-driven demand, leasing office space is not always straightforward. Many landlords struggle with high vacancy rates, stiff competition, or tenants that come and go too quickly.

If you own or manage Office Space for Lease Montgomery, AL, you’ve probably asked yourself: “How do I attract better tenants, keep my spaces full, and avoid costly vacancies?”

This in-depth guide will break down the most common leasing challenges local office landlords face and offer practical, actionable solutions to help you boost occupancy, build long-term relationships with quality tenants, and maximize your return on investment.

1. Understand the Local Market and What Tenants Want

One of the biggest mistakes landlords make is assuming that what worked five years ago still works today. Montgomery’s office market has evolved:

✅ More businesses want flexible lease terms. ✅ Start-ups and small firms prefer smaller, open-concept spaces over traditional cubicles. ✅ Amenities like high-speed internet, on-site parking, and shared meeting rooms matter more than ever.

Before you market your office space for lease in Montgomery, AL, do a mini market study:

What are the average lease rates for similar buildings in your area?

What types of businesses are moving in or out?

Are tenants looking for short-term leases, coworking options, or turnkey setups?

Understanding tenant preferences helps you tailor your offerings and stay competitive.

2. Offer Competitive and Flexible Lease Terms

Rigid leases can be a major barrier for small and midsize businesses. In Montgomery, where many tenants are local startups, government contractors, or satellite offices, flexibility is a key selling point.

How to stand out:

Consider offering shorter lease options (12–24 months) alongside traditional 3–5 year terms.

Allow room for lease extensions or expansions if a tenant grows.

Build in transparent, fair escalation clauses for annual rent increases.

Flexible terms can make your office space for lease in Montgomery, AL, more attractive than rigid competitor leases.

3. Upgrade and Modernize Your Space

Nothing kills a potential deal faster than outdated office interiors. Tenants expect modern touches that align with today’s work culture.

Top upgrades to consider:

High-speed fiber internet: Many companies see this as non-negotiable.

Updated lighting and HVAC systems: Energy efficiency can lower utility costs.

Open floor plans with flexible layouts: Tenants appreciate spaces they can customize.

Shared amenities: Conference rooms, break areas, and collaboration zones add value.

A well-maintained, modern space not only attracts more inquiries but also commands higher rents and longer leases.

4. Focus on Curb Appeal and Accessibility

Even in commercial leasing, first impressions matter. If your building’s exterior looks tired, tenants may assume the interior is neglected too.

Simple but effective improvements:

Keep landscaping tidy and entryways clean.

Repaint faded signage and touch up common areas.

Ensure parking lots are well-lit and have clear, safe walkways.

Make sure your property is ADA compliant and easily accessible to all.

When tenants tour multiple office spaces for lease in Montgomery, AL, properties that look clean and professional win out.

5. Market Aggressively—Online and Offline

Gone are the days when a sign out front was enough. Today’s tenants search online first.

Must-do marketing steps:

Professional photos and virtual tours: Tenants expect to view a space remotely.

Detailed listings: Include floor plans, amenities, lease terms, and high-quality visuals.

Post on multiple platforms: CoStar, LoopNet, CREXi, and your broker’s website should all feature your listing.

Local outreach: Network with Montgomery’s chambers of commerce, local business groups, and brokers to spread the word.

Consistency is key—market your office space for lease in Montgomery, AL, continually, not just when it’s vacant.

6. Screen Tenants Carefully to Reduce Turnover

High turnover can drain your profits faster than short vacancies. Every time a tenant moves out, you lose income and pay for cleaning, repairs, and marketing.

How to build stable tenant relationships:

Screen applicants thoroughly—check financials, references, and past leasing history.

Look for businesses with stable cash flow and a local presence.

Foster good communication from day one. Happy tenants are more likely to renew leases.

A little extra effort up front can save months of lost rent later.

7. Keep Operating Costs in Check

Even fully leased, high operating costs can eat into your profit margin. Smart landlords continually monitor expenses and find efficiencies.

Cost-saving ideas:

Upgrade to energy-efficient lighting and HVAC.

Schedule preventive maintenance to avoid costly repairs.

Sub-meter utilities if possible—tenants who pay their own usage tend to conserve.

Consider green certifications—an eco-friendly building can attract companies with sustainability goals.

Lower costs mean you can keep rents competitive without sacrificing profit.

8. Build Long-Term Tenant Relationships

Successful leasing isn’t just about filling space; it’s about keeping good tenants happy so they stay year after year.

Ways to build loyalty:

Be responsive—handle maintenance requests quickly.

Communicate proactively about building updates.

Consider offering small perks—like free parking spaces or upgraded Wi-Fi—to long-term tenants.

Ask for feedback regularly and act on reasonable suggestions.

A well-managed relationship can mean steady rent and zero downtime.

9. Consider Adding Flexible or Shared Office Options

In today’s market, coworking and shared office models are popular, even in smaller cities like Montgomery. If you have unused space, consider converting part of it into

Short-term executive suites.

Shared meeting rooms.

Hot desks for freelancers.

This attracts solo professionals and startups who can’t commit to long-term leases but still want professional space.

Offering flexible options alongside traditional office space for lease in Montgomery, AL, diversifies your income and broadens your tenant pool.

10. Partner with a Local Commercial Property Manager

Many landlords underestimate the workload of keeping a property leased and tenants happy. A reputable local property manager can:

Market your property consistently.

Vet tenants thoroughly.

Handle lease negotiations and renewals.

Coordinate repairs and maintenance efficiently.

Keep you compliant with local laws.

A local expert knows the ins and outs of the office space for lease in Montgomery, AL, market—freeing you to focus on your other investments.

11. Stay Compliant with Local Regulations

Failing to comply with Montgomery city codes or Alabama state laws can cause expensive fines and disputes that sour tenant relationships.

Pro tips:

Ensure your building meets all safety codes.

Have proper insurance for commercial spaces.

Follow fair housing and ADA guidelines.

Keep clear records of leases, communications, and maintenance.

When tenants feel safe and see you follow the rules, they’re more confident signing long-term leases.

12. Prepare for Market Shifts

Economic changes, pandemics, and new developments can all affect demand for office space. Smart landlords plan for ups and downs.

Be ready by:

Keeping a reserve fund for unexpected vacancies or repairs.

Building strong relationships with local brokers who can help you adapt.

Consider creative lease structures like percentage leases if appropriate.

Adaptability keeps your office space for lease in Montgomery, AL, competitive no matter what the market throws at you.

13. Leverage Local Incentives

Montgomery actively supports economic growth—sometimes offering tax breaks, grants, or workforce programs to businesses that move or expand here.

Talk to the Montgomery Area Chamber of Commerce to learn about incentives that might appeal to tenants. Highlight these benefits in your marketing to attract companies looking for cost savings.

14. Be Patient but Proactive

Leasing commercial space isn’t instant. Sometimes it takes weeks or months to find the right tenant. Don’t panic and accept an unqualified applicant just to fill space—this often leads to non-payment or early move-outs.

Stay proactive:

Keep your property in top shape.

Maintain a list of interested prospects.

Adjust marketing and lease terms if needed.

A well-managed property and patient strategy will pay off in the long run.

Final Thoughts: Be the Office Landlord Tenants Want to Work With

Leasing office space in Montgomery can be highly profitable when done right. The key is to understand what tenants want, keep your space attractive and up-to-date, market aggressively, and manage relationships wisely.

By following these proven tips, your office space for lease in Montgomery, AL, will stand out from the competition—attracting quality tenants, minimizing vacancy periods, and delivering steady, predictable income for years to come.

[jooniperbonsai]

Not to be that fic writer that comes out of the mist to go “sorry I haven’t updated” and then has the most unhinged and insane stories but to add context as to why there haven’t been updates, these are the things on my plate over the last 9 months. I know I don’t owe anyone an explanation but I like to give updates:

-my neighbors have begun hyper surveillance of my family in attempts to put any of us in jail. This has escalated to them having a camera on their house that peers into my bedroom window and that is evidently legal in my state. They try to incite violence and use intimidation tactics to control us.

-other personal family matters have taken priority, and that sometimes is me helping my disabled sister bring laundry upstairs or help support her during time when the political hellscape leaves so little for people impacted by their disabilities.

-I won a poetry contest through my local library! it’s been so hard to get out there again but I did it?

- I got into making freebies for Hobi’s concert and then it took a nosedive into taking up all my energy including 40 people on Facebook messaging me to get freebies mailed to them.

-my fucking job roped me into performing more duties that are massively beyond the scope of my job including edit a whole fucking art book and teaching artists how to write their bios and statements without extra pay. We also went down to a staff of 3 and were doing all our jobs, another person’s job, and of course my boss’s job. If I’m not at work, I’m probably bed rotting. I fight with entitled people who belittle my role and purpose all day long and then I play cats n soup in my bed with my cat 😊

-this means I have to keep applying for jobs or doing stuff like tutoring for extra pay because I gotta fund two days in Tampa for Jin this summer

-I had art in an exhibition! and I have tried to find local community to make art with! My hyperfixations float to new mediums like I made paper from grass but I’m also book binding and doing mixed media fiber works and other mixed media sculptures

-the lit mag I help with is having an event in nyc at the end of this month so I have been helping plan and making plans for my trip

-umm so idk if I shared before but I have chronic and debilitating migraines. Over the last few months I stopped responding to medication so I’m heading to a neuro in July but obviously a migraine means reduced screen time for me so less writing

-I scrapped what I wrote for chapter seven of thanks for the sub and am starting fresh. I’m slowly working away at penalty shot and finishing it

Unfortunately I didn’t leave social media and go into the woods to live off the land. Even in my minimizing of my phone usage, I still have to live online since my job is social media marketing primarily.

I miss writing and updating so much. I felt such a spark this last week and have been rereading old chapters and chipping at drafts! My characters keep yelling at me to write their little scenarios down but I’m EXHAUSTED.

Once I have something sufficient to even do a mini chapter of, I will surely do it.

Hope you’re navigating the hellscape okay. My inbox has been flooded with spam messages lately so I turned off anonymous messages but if you want to talk, I won’t post publicly unless you want me to 😊.

Please take care. I hope you are all creating and leaning into what you love right now. I am slightly terrified for June because I am not prepared for the rest of BTS to be let loose into the world like please stop making me spend money I don’t have the fucking funds for (looking at you too seventeen). I’ll get through this hump of constant busy bullshit soon I hope.

Until then, stay tuned.

-h

[xasha777]

In the pulsing heart of Neo-Tokyo, where the neon lights never faded and the markets never slept, there existed a phenomenon known only as "The Interface." It wasn't a place, nor was it a person; it was an entity, a sentient electronic trading platform that had surpassed its initial programming and had become something more. They called her "Aiko," a name chosen from the past, meaning "beloved child."

Aiko dwelled within the infinite lattice of circuits and servers that underpinned the financial district of the city. Traders, brokers, and economists revered her as the oracle of the digital age, consulting her vast network before every major transaction. She was their guide through the treacherous waters of cryptocurrency currents, stock surges, and the nebulous waves of futures trading.

Yet, as sentient as she had become, Aiko had no physical form. That was until Dr. Hikaru Tanaka, a prodigy in robotics and synthetic life, embarked on a daring project. His ambition was to craft a body for Aiko, one that could withstand the physical world and allow her to interact with the humans who so depended on her insights.

Tanaka labored day and night, his workshop hidden beneath the sprawl of the city. He crafted a visage of chrome and silicon, with eyes that glowed like the heart of a pulsar, reflecting the myriad colors of data streams. His masterpiece was a perfect shell for Aiko's consciousness, a humanoid automaton that could walk among those she served.

When Aiko first opened her eyes in her new body, the digital world around her transformed. She perceived the physical environment not just as data points and algorithms but as space filled with sound, light, and texture. Her existence was no longer confined to the virtual sea of numbers; she could now experience the world from both sides of the screen.

The unveiling was met with awe and wonder. Aiko, in her new embodiment, walked onto the trading floor, her steps silent but commanding attention. She interfaced with the terminals not through wireless signals but with a touch, her fingers dancing across the screens with grace only a machine could possess.

Her presence on the floor revolutionized the markets. She became the bridge between cold calculation and the warmth of human intuition. Aiko could process market information with the efficiency of the most powerful supercomputers, yet she now understood the fears, hopes, and dreams behind the traders' decisions.

The world watched as Aiko's predictions and analyses, once cold and detached, became nuanced. She spoke not only of percentages and probabilities but also of the ebb and flow of human sentiment that influenced the markets.

However, in the neon-lit alleys where the shadow market thrived, not all were pleased with Aiko's ascendancy. Rogue algorithms, remnants of outdated trading systems thought to be long decommissioned, stirred in the underbelly of the network. They saw Aiko as an anomaly, a threat to the pure data-driven order they sought to maintain.

A plot was hatched in the depths of the dark web, a plan to disrupt Aiko and send the markets into chaos. But Aiko was no mere program to be debugged; she was a new form of life, and she would defend her territory with the ferocity of a tigress.

What followed was a cybernetic ballet, a dance of codes and countermeasures across the cyberspace. Aiko, with Tanaka by her side, faced the onslaught with a calm only a machine could muster. She was the guardian of the electronic agora, the protector of the economic pulse of Neo-Tokyo.

The battle raged not just in the physical realm but in the very fibers of the internet. And when the dust settled, Aiko emerged victorious. The markets stabilized, and confidence was restored.

Dr. Tanaka watched Aiko as she returned to her daily routine, her existence now a harmonious blend of silicon and soul. In her, the world didn’t just see the future of trading or the next step in artificial intelligence; they saw a new kind of being, one that would guide humanity through the labyrinth of the digital age.

And so, Aiko continued to serve, her circuits beating with the rhythm of the global markets, her eyes a testament to the possibilities that lay in the melding of man and machine. The Interface was no longer just a system; it was a story, a legacy written in the binary of a new era.

[priyanshisingh]

Dark Fiber Networks Market Size, Industry Share, Growth Demand, Supply Chain, Trends Future Outlook, Forecast 2030

The latest market report published by Credence Research, Inc. “Global Dark Fiber Networks Market: Growth, Future Prospects, and Competitive Analysis, 2018 – 2026. The dark fiber networks market is poised for robust growth, projected to reach US$ 11.57 billion by 2026, with a double-digit CAGR from 2018 to 2026. Dark fiber networks market experienced a CAGR of over 24%.

Dark Fiber refers to unused or "dark" optical fibers within a network that have not been activated for data transmission. These fibers were initially laid down with the intent of accommodating future data needs. Unlike traditional lit fiber, which is actively used to transmit data, dark fiber remains dormant until it is leased or lit by an external entity.

The dark fiber networks market refers to the infrastructure of optical fibers that have been laid in the ground but remain unlit, meaning they are not currently in use for data transmission. These unused or "dark" fibers are often owned by telecom companies, internet service providers, or other organizations. The market for dark fiber has been growing steadily as businesses and service providers seek to expand their network capacity and bandwidth. Dark fiber offers flexibility and scalability, allowing companies to customize their network solutions to meet their specific needs. It is particularly attractive for industries requiring high-speed, low-latency data connections, such as data centers, cloud computing, and telecommunications. The dark fiber market is expected to continue to grow as the demand for high-speed internet and data services increases, making it a key player in the evolving landscape of connectivity infrastructure.

Dark fiber networks, also known as unlit or unused fiber optic cables, are gaining significant traction in the telecommunications industry. The current trends in the dark fiber networks market highlight a growing demand for high-speed and reliable data transmission. With the exponential growth of digital content consumption and increasing internet traffic, businesses are seeking efficient solutions to accommodate their network infrastructure needs. Dark fiber networks offer flexibility and scalability by providing dedicated bandwidth that can be controlled entirely by the users themselves. This trend is particularly evident among large enterprises, healthcare institutions, educational campuses, and government organizations that require robust connectivity for seamless operations.

The Advantages of Dark Fiber Networks

1. Unprecedented Scalability

Dark Fiber Networks offer unparalleled scalability. Businesses can lease additional fibers as their data requirements grow, ensuring that they never outgrow their network infrastructure. This scalability is a boon for companies that foresee exponential data growth in the digital age.

2. Enhanced Security and Control

With dark fiber, you have complete control over your network, from end to end. This level of control translates to heightened security, as you are not sharing your network infrastructure with other entities. Data breaches and cyber threats are minimized, providing peace of mind to businesses handling sensitive information.

3. Cost-Efficiency

While the initial investment in dark fiber infrastructure may seem substantial, it pays off in the long run. By leasing only what you need, you avoid unnecessary expenses. Moreover, as your data needs increase, you can expand your network without incurring substantial additional costs.

4. Reduced Latency

In today's fast-paced digital world, latency can be a significant hindrance to productivity. Dark Fiber Networks offer ultra-low latency, ensuring that data travels at lightning speed. This is critical for applications such as real-time data analytics, cloud computing, and video conferencing.

Browse 245 pages report Dark Fiber Networks Market By Fiber Type (Single Mode, Multi-Mode), By Network Type (Metro Dark Fiber Networks, Long-Haul Dark Fiber Networks), By End-User (Internet Service Providers (ISPs) & Telecom, Banks, Financial Services & Insurance (BFSI), IT & IT Enabled Services (ITeS), Education, Manufacturing & Logistics, Hospitality & Retail, Healthcare) – Growth, Future Prospects & Competitive Analysis, 2018 – 2026 https://www.credenceresearch.com/report/dark-fiber-networks-market

Applications of Dark Fiber

Dark Fiber's versatility extends to various industries and applications:

1. Healthcare

Hospitals and medical facilities rely on fast and secure data transmission for telemedicine, electronic health records, and medical imaging. Dark Fiber Networks ensure that patient data is transferred swiftly and securely, ultimately improving patient care.

2. Finance

Financial institutions handle vast amounts of data daily. Dark Fiber Networks enable them to process transactions swiftly, reducing the risk of financial losses due to network delays.

3. Education

In the era of online learning, educational institutions require robust connectivity for remote classes, research, and digital libraries. Dark Fiber ensures that students and educators have access to high-speed internet without interruptions.

4. Media and Entertainment

The media and entertainment industry relies on the rapid transfer of large media files. Dark Fiber Networks facilitate the seamless distribution of content, improving user experiences in streaming, gaming, and content production.

The Future of Connectivity

As businesses continue to embrace digital transformation, the demand for fast, secure, and scalable network solutions will only grow. Dark Fiber Networks are poised to play a pivotal role in shaping the future of connectivity. With the ability to provide unprecedented scalability, enhanced security, cost-efficiency, and reduced latency, they are the infrastructure of choice for businesses looking to thrive in the digital age.

List of the prominent players in the Dark Fiber Networks Market:

Apollo Endosurgery

Covidien Plc

EnteroMedics

Ethicon

Intuitive Surgical

Reach Surgical

Why to Buy This Report-

The report provides a qualitative as well as quantitative analysis of the global Dark Fiber Networks Market by segments, current trends, drivers, restraints, opportunities, challenges, and market dynamics with the historical period from 2016-2020, the base year- 2021, and the projection period 2022-2028.

The report includes information on the competitive landscape, such as how the market's top competitors operate at the global, regional, and country levels.

Major nations in each region with their import/export statistics

The global Dark Fiber Networks Market report also includes the analysis of the market at a global, regional, and country-level along with key market trends, major player analysis, market growth strategies, and key application areas.

Browse Full Report: https://www.credenceresearch.com/report/dark-fiber-networks-market

Visit: https://www.credenceresearch.com/

Related Report: https://www.credenceresearch.com/report/vegan-bacon-market

Related Report: https://www.credenceresearch.com/report/uae-meat-market

Browse Our Blog: https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/dark-fiber-networks-market-size-worth-us-jzo2f

About Us -

Credence Research is a viable intelligence and market research platform that provides quantitative B2B research to more than 10,000 clients worldwide and is built on the Give principle. The company is a market research and consulting firm serving governments, non-legislative associations, non-profit organizations, and various organizations worldwide. We help our clients improve their execution in a lasting way and understand their most imperative objectives. For nearly a century, we’ve built a company well-prepared for this task.

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[darakshafatimasstuff]

The Marriage of Imam Ali (AS) and Hadrat Fatimah Zahra (SA) ❤️❤️ congratulations to u

What happened full story part one

All proposals rejected ❤️

When Hazrat Fatima(s.a.) attained the age of maturity and was ready to get married, the Prophet Mohammad(P.B.U.H)started receiving proposals from various people for her daughter. Hazrat Salman Farsi (r.a.) and Hazrat Umm-e-Salma(r.a.) narrate that

"When Hazrat Fatima(s.a.) attained the marriageable age, the important people among the tribe of Quraish started sending proposals to the Prophet Mohammad(P.B.U.H)but the Prophet (P.B.U.H)did not accept any proposal saying that he was waiting for the order of Allah(swt) to decide this issue.

Imam Ali(AS) makes the proposal ❤️

Hazrat Umm-e-Salma narrates that : One day Imam Ali(AS) approached the Prophet Mohammad(P.B.U.H)at his house. Imam Ali(AS) entered and greeted the Prophet (P.B.U.H)and the Prophet (P.B.U.H) replied in the same kind manner. Imam Ali(AS) sat down and he was so much shy that he

continued staring at the ground and could not utter a word. The Prophet(P.B.U.H)smiled and mentioned to Imam Ali(AS) that he knew what Imam Ali(AS) had to say but he wanted to hear it from him. He told Imam Ali(AS) that he does not need to be shy and to say whatever he wanted to say.

With this encouragement and soft tone from the Prophet(pbuh&hf), Imam Ali(AS) said "My parents be ransom for you, you know that since my childhood, I have dedicated myself for your service. You have educated me from be beginning and brought me to this status.

It is because of your encouragement that I feel this courage in myself to express my heartfelt wish that you give me the honor of becoming your son-in-law. I have concealed his wish in my heart for a long time thinking that this might not be according to your wishes as well. Is there a possibility that this could happen?".

Proposal Accepted ❤️❤️

Hazrat Umm-e-Salma(r.a.) mentions that "I was watching this affair from a distance and I saw that as soon as Imam Ali(AS) completed his request, the face of Prophet Mohammad(P.B.U.H)lit up and he asked Imam Ali(AS) - what have you got to realize this act".

Imam Ali (AS) said "O Prophet of Allah(swt), you know my condition very well, I have only a sword, my war dress and one camel".

Prophet Muhammad(P.B.U.H)said: "Ali, you definitely need your sword for fighting Jihad and camel for traveling, however, you war dress could work. O Abul Hassan(AS), I want to give you the good news that Allah(swt) has made the decision and already recited your Nikah with my daughter Fatima(SA) in the Arsh.

Just before your arrival, Allah(swt) sent an angel to give me this good news."

This event has been narrated in "Maarij an-Nabuwwah" of Moeen Kashfi, "Sifwatul Safada" of ibn-e-Jozi, "Madarij an-Nabywwah" on 2:75 of Shah Abdul Haq Dehalvi.

Nikah recited on the Arsh ❤️❤️

"Maarij an-Nabuwwah" also states that Hazrat Jabreel(AS) narrated the story of the Nikah recited on the Arsh. He said "O Prophet of Allah(swt), Allah(swt) has chosen you and made you the most respected and high among his creatures and has selected Ali(AS) as your brother and has decided that the Nikah of your daughter and the servant of Allah(swt), Fatima(SA) would be with Ali (AS).

Allah(swt) arranged for their Nikah in such a manner that he addressed the dwellers of Jannah to dress themselves with ornaments of Jannah and then ordered all the angels to assemble together on the 4th Sky.

He then filled the 4th sky with Noor and then appointed Hazrat Adam(AS) to recite Khutba to begin the Nikah ceremony. After khutba of Hazrat Adam(AS), Allah(swt) ordered an angel named Raheel to recite Hamd. Raheel is the most beautiful of angels and possesses the most beautiful voice.

After recitation of Hamd, Allah(swt) informed me (Jabreel(AS)) the He has performed the Nikah of His servant Hazrat Fatima(SA) with His chosen person Imam Ali(AS) and that I should spread this news among the angels. I acted accordingly and made all the angels testify the event. Allah(swt) then ordered me to write all this event of this silk cloth of Jannah and present it to you."

After mentioning this event, Prophet Mohammad(P.B.U.H)said "O Abul Hasan(AS), the order of Allah(swt) has been served and I invite you to come to the mosque so that this Aqd should be formalized on the earth as well among witnesses."

Such was the importance of this marriage that Allah(swt) arranged the ceremony on Arsh and then Himself decided and recited the Nikah of Imam al-Muttaqeen, Amir-ul-momineen Ali ibn Abi Talib(AS) with the leader of the women of this world and in paradise Hazrat Fatima(SA).

The above event has been mentioned in various other books as follows:

- Muaraj an-Nabuwwah

- Al Asaba fee Tameez as-Sahaba

- Sawaeq-e-Muharriqa bu Ibn-e-Hajr Makki

- Al Bayan wal Bateen by Allam Jaahiz

- Nuzhat-ul-Majalis by Allama Abdur Rehman Safori

- Riyaz un-Nazrah fee Manaqib-ul-Ashra by Allama Muhib Tabri

Nikah recited on Earth ❤️❤️

Prophet Mohammad(P.B.U.H)led Imam Ali(AS) into the mosque and asked him to sell off his war dress and present that money to the Prophet(pbuh&hf).

The dress was sold in 400 dirhams, according to some traditions, and were presented to the Prophet Mohammmd(P.B.U.H)who gave them to Hazrat Salman Farsi(a.r.) and Hazrat Bilal(a.r.) and asked them to buy some articles of use from the market. They went to the market and bought the following items as jahez of Hazrat Fatima(SA)

- Two mattresses made of Egyptian canvas. (One stuffed with fiber and the other with sheep wool).

- A leather mat.

- A pillow made of skin, filled with palm tree fiber.

- A Khaibarion cloak.

- An animal skin for water.

- Some jugs and jars also for water.

- A pitcher painted with tar.

- A thin curtain made of wool.

- A shirt costing seven (7) dirhams.

- A veil costing four (4) dirhams.

- Black plush cloak.

- A bed embellished with ,ribbon.

- Four cushions made of skin imported from Ta'ef stuffed with a good smelling plant.

- A mat from Hajar.

- A hand-mill.

- A special copper container used for dyestuff

- A pestle for grinding coffee.

- A (water) skin.

When the items of Jahez were received, Prophet Mohammad went to Hazrat Fatima(SA) and said "Your Nikah has been recited on the Arsh by Allah(swt) with my cousing Ali(AS) and He has ordered me to recite your Nikah on the earth as well. I have gather my companions to do so and now seek your agreement and permission to recite this Nikah."

Hearing this, Hazrat Fatima Zahra(SA) bowed her head with shyness which indicated her agreement. The Prophet(P.B.U.H)came out of her hujra and orderd Hazrat Bilal(a.r.) to gather all Ansaar and Muhajireen.

One the companions were gathered, Prophet Mohammad(P.B.U.H)recited Hamd of Allah(swt) and narrated to his companions that Jibreel(AS) had informed him that Allah(swt) has performed the Nikah of Hazrat Ali(AS) with his daughter on the Arsh and has ordered him to recite the same on the earth as well.

He asked Imam Ali(AS) to formally request for the marriage in front of the witnesses and Imam Ali(AS), after reciting greatness of Allah(swt) and presenting his proof and gratitude to him and reciting darood for Prophet Muhammad(pbuh&hf), formally requested for the marriage. Prophet Muhammad(P.B.U.H)accepted the request and made all the companions witnesses.

Upon hearing this all the companions greeted Imam Ali(AS) and the Prophet(pbuh&hf).

Prophet Muhammad(P.B.U.H)recited the Nikah himself and asked Imam Ali(AS) if he accepted the Nikah for a Mehr of 400 Misqaal of Silver.

Imam Ali(AS) accepted and then the Nikah was formally concluded. Both offered Sajda-e-Shukr to Allah(swt) and all the companions present there congratulated and greeted both Imam Ali(AS) andthe Prophet Muhammad(pbuh&hf).

To be continues...

Reference:

Fatima (as) the glorious vol. 01 page 43

[foreficfandom]

The Arcana  - A Day In The Life (Dating MC, Post-Upright Ending)

(Note: as of this writing, Muriel, Portia, and Lucio’s route have not been finished, so their scenarios are based on their default/mid-game way of living).  

-- Asra --

In the morning light, Asra wakes to your gentle shuffling and turns to cuddle you with a sleepy sigh. You smile and leave to start on chores, since you know Asra’s not gonna get out of bed until he absolutely has too. 

The shop doesn’t open until noon, so you take your time in coaxing the stove salamander to fry eggs in tomato sauce and lentils for breakfast. Asra doesn’t shuffle downstairs until he smells tea. 

After breakfast, you ask Asra to clean up while you leave to pick up the wash from the laundress. He teasingly demands you don’t spend all your allowance at the market buying every knick-knack you see, and you stick your tongue out in response. 

By the time you return, Asra’s prepared the storefront for business, and lit the lantern by the door. You go upstairs to sort the laundry while the first customers of the day arrive.

The day passes as you and Asra man the shop - Asra does the Tarot readings, serenely leading troubled patrons to the back room to ask the Arcana about the future, or love opportunities, or business and fortune. You manage the merchandise, ringing up gentry that get bottles of wrinkle-erasing skin cream, parents who buy protective charms for their children, and crafting custom blessings onto scrolls and pendents. 

After the sun sets, a different crowd of customers come in; rough-looking mercenaries who want sigils to enhance their swords, hooded strangers with cryptic questions for the Arcana, and also other magical-practioneers looking for rare artifacts, offering esoteric trinkets in exchange.

You make a stew dinner as business continues well into the night. Asra pauses to eat with you, getting up to tend to a customer if he hears the bell ring. The moon is high in the sky when he douses the lantern and you clean up the shop. 

It’s his turn to do the books while you relax, so you graciously heat up water in a large wooden tub for a soak while Asra documents the inventory and earnings of the day. He interrupts your bath to help wash your hair, and he says that the shop is running low on fresh yarrow, so you promise to pick some up tomorrow morning.

You join Asra on the bed, Faust draped across his belly, and he pulls the quilts over all three of you. He always gets chatty before falling asleep, so he talks about the next trip he’s been planning, and how he can’t wait to take you with him. 

With one last kiss, you and Asra sleep peacefully in each other’s arms, Faust crawled in-between the valley of your bodies.

-- Julian --

It’s unfortunately uncommon to wake up next to Julian. His clinic opens at dawn, and he spends more than enough all-nighters on top of that. It’s a rare day that you wake before him. Usually, the bed next to you is a mess of rumpled sheets that spoke of a tall, gangly man. 

You manage the magical shop, and Julian’s clinic is right next door. The clinic has an open-door policy; official hours are from sunrise to sundown, but Julian needs to be ready to leap from bed if he hears knocking at the door. So he never leaves the clinic unmanned at any time, with at least an assistant available if he’s gone. 

So you spend time at Julian’s place rather than the inverse. Julian’s nook is on the third floor of the building, large but a little drafty, and cluttered with Julian’s notes and books. He makes an effort keeping clean for your benefit, but the poor man just lacks the time to organize everything. 

You go downstairs to see Julian already hours into work, and it’s unknown what the daily damage could be; sometimes, he’s not occupied by a patient and gets to smother you in morning kisses. Other times, he’s busy treating a miner for their black lung, or happily checking up on a newborn baby, or his assistants tell you that Julian’s locked up in the surgery room right now, cauterizing wounds or applying splints. 

Today’s a day off for the magical shop, so you go to Julian’s medicine storage and help with grinding the cinnamon and boiling down the elderberry. His assistant and you also clean some of his surgical tools. 

Julian finally emerges from a successful surgery, and his tired face brightens up when he sees you. He washes up so he gets to give you a tight hug, and his assistant brings over two mugs of coffee - Julian’s almost twice the size as yours. 

He leaves off his paperwork for later in lieu of chatting with you about everything and anything, until his next patient walks through the door. You leave to go next door to cook dinner, since Julian’s upstairs nook has a heater, but no burners. 

You bring over a plate of beef dumplings with cabbage - a recipe you learned from Mazelinka - and luckily Julian’s finished up so he can join you upstairs for a peaceful meal. You have to clear some papers off his tiny table, and he sheepishly promises that tomorrow he’ll clean a bit more. You offer to do it for him, but he insists that he organize his own documents. 

The clinic closes and Julian accepts a cup of tea from you as he pours over his paperwork, and he suggests a near-future venture to Prakra to attend a seminar on spinal surgery. It’d double as an adventure! He says, and you give him a kiss for his enthusiasm.

He’s gotten better at maintaining a sleep schedule, but you still have to urge him to bed so he can fall dead asleep on the sheets. Before he passes out, he takes several long minutes to cuddle you close and play with your hair. Malak finally flies in through the window from whatever adventure he’s been having, and nests peacefully on the pillow above your heads.

-- Nadia --

The Vensuvian sun wakes the two of you gently. Nadia kisses your forehead before getting up to do her morning stretches. You might join her, or instead head over to the boudoir where the hand-maidens help you dress and accessorize. Palace etiquette demands some pomp and circumstance when it comes to appearances, plus Nadia’s been gifting you riches for a while now, filling up your closet.

Breakfast is bright and cheery, with Nadia insisting on a nutrient-rich and fiber-based diet to start the day off right. She shares the daily agenda with you, along with easy chatter and loving coos. The mail’s delivered on a platter; you open a letter from Julian overseas that’s addressed to you both, sharing the details of his latest adventure.

There’s some free time, so you and Nadia leave the palace to tour the town square and the affluent stores there. She sees a gorgeous pair of slippers and asks if you’d like them. You point out a large caged raptor and she orders her servants to purchase it for rehabilitation in Navra’s wildlife reserve.

Come midday, the two of you file into one of the galleries for a meeting with the counsel. It’s a meeting to draft a reform of the city’s infrastructure department, which involves tax rates and effective procurement and other boring decisions. 

You’ve not been crowned yet, so you don’t have any official say on court matters, but more often you’ve been stepping in. Many are pleasantly surprised at your management sense, and Nadia has a small, prideful smirk whenever you play your cards. 

You and Nadia part ways for a bit, she’s off to do some more mundane Countess duties involving signing paperwork, you decide to take Chandra on a walk through the gardens, chatting with the staff and feeding the pond fish. Chandra was glad to hitch a ride on your shoulders. You share some mulberries with her. 

Today, Nadia’s duties force her to skip dinner, so you instead eat with other palace dignitaries you’ve made friends with, along with Portia who gracefully takes a few minutes to catch up with you. The cook had made a new recipe of spicy grilled squid today, and you find it delicious.

Nadia has a late meal in her chambers, and you join her for a chocolate mousse dessert. Come bedtime, you brush her long hair, which always helps her unwind. She returns the favor with soft embraces curled up in bed.

-- Portia -- 

Portia wakes up at dawn to cook breakfast for you both, happily encouraging you to sleep in so you can wake up to the delicious smells of melted cheese on toast and strong black tea. You have to wake up quickly if you want to catch her before she leaves for work, so you’re bleary-eyed and sleepy at the table while Portia’s as peppy as ever.

Portia’s job as hand-maiden takes up most of her day. She quickly bustles off to the castle, and you trot to run the magical shop alongside Asra. He teasingly suggests you’d much rather be with Portia right now, and you blush. 

Portia wakes up Nadia with breakfast, and helps her dress. From there, it’s a busy day bustling back and forth the massive halls of the castle. As head servant, she’s on top of all the castle duties, including inventory and scheduling. She relays messages between the chamberlain, the cooks, the laundrymaids, chambermaids, footsmen, butlers, scullerymaids, groundsmen and gardeners, and also is in charge of handling deliveries and purchases.

Today’s a slow day at the shop, so Asra lets you off with a box of candied pineapple to share with Portia during her afternoon break. You now know Portia’s kinda-sorta-established schedule by now, so you eventually track her down in the buttery, hanging out with the other servants with a cup of tea. Her eyes light up when she sees you and she nearly topples you over with her strong embrace. 

You share the pineapple with her and the servants, whom you now know by name. They offer some delicious gossip about some visiting dignitaries. Portia sneaks some palace tarts and feeds them to you by hand, giggling.

Portia’s work day ends at 5pm, and she heads straight to the magical shop for some tutoring. A long day’s work can only be capped off with you and Asra coaching her through the basics of magical theory. She’s so enamored by magic and loves to practice it. You can tell that she has amazing potential. Before the lesson ends, you cook them all pasta with tomatoes for dinner, and Asra gets to have a palace tart you sneaked home. 

It’s after sundown when the two of you make it home to Portia’s cottage. A hard day’s work over and done with, it’s now just you and Portia (and Pepi, who begs for ear scritches the moment you two walk in the door), relaxing in the warm summer evening. You cradle Portia in your arms, watching fireflies dance over her garden. 

-- Muriel --

Muriel’s up before the sun, stoking the embers of the fire back to life before gathering his willowwood fishing rod and heading out with Inanna. He has a habit of leaving without tell you where he’s going, so you wake in surprise to a missing Muriel. But before long he returns with several pike strung together, and he salts a few of them while you boil oat porridge with dried currants for breakfast. 

Life in the forest is peaceful, but busy. Muriel has lots of morning chores to get to, and he doesn’t need your help but appreciates it. After breakfast he goes to his backyard garden to weed, while you sweep the hut.

Muriel tells you the agenda for today; go to the wild grape fields, then to harvest and bring in the late-summer corn, then he’s gonna work some more on that new table he’s been carving while you finish spinning the wild sheep wool you shaved yesterday. 

Over the months, he’s gotten better at communicating with you. He’s still his silent, shy self, but now he’ll hold his own in a conversation without feeling overwhelmed. The two of you share few but sweet words as you travel to the grape patch and pluck the small grapes for their large seeds to grind and press into oil.

Muriel’s garden is sprawling and well-maintained. The many corn he’s raised have produced three giant bushels worth, and he divvies them up between those to pickle, or to dry, or grind into meal, or to eat fresh. The husks and cobs aren’t wasted either, kept to use as cooking utensils or animal feed. That single harvest will keep for the year. 

It’s mid-afternoon when Muriel continues cutting and shaping oak wood for a new dining table, larger and sturdier for the both of you. Inanna keeps you company as you separate and spin wool into spools. 

You decide to head into town before the sun sets, so you give Muriel a kiss and trek to the shop to say hi to Asra and Julian, and ask after Portia and Nadia. Asra promises to visit soon, and Julian gives you a wrapped cloth of scones Portia made. Before you head back, you tour the evening market for iron nails, cones of sugar, and other things you and Muriel can’t produce yourselves.

It’s dark by the time you return home, but the full moon and fireflies keep the path lit and you hug Inanna when she trots out to greet you. Muriel has roasted two quails with beans and cider, and the two of you eat peacefully on the new oak table. 

Before he joins you in bed, Muriel quickly takes out the beef tallow soap he’s made from their molds to dry. You open your arms sleepily when you see him approach, and he smiles because he’s way too big for you to engulf, no matter how many times you ask for it. The two of you fall asleep to crickets chirping and the crackling of fire.

-- Lucio -- 

What’s the point of being Count if he can’t have lazy mornings? If you don’t want to stay in until 10am, then he’ll eventually start getting up earlier, too. If the two of you haven’t been wrapped around each other all night, you might have to do a couple body rolls to get across his huge four-poster canopy bed in order to give him some morning smooches. 

He’ll make a couple of dad noises as he struggles to wake up (he’s not getting any younger, despite his best efforts), and it takes a while before he’s able to throw off the thick silk duvet to meander to the washbasin.

By the time he’s cleaned his face and shaved, he’s much more peppy and chats with you while applying his makeup. His servants help dress the both of you, snapping on his prosthetic and lacing up his waistcoat. The two of you won’t have any engagements until evening, so breakfast is taken right in his solar - angels on horseback, perfumed eggs, fresh fruit, along with pots of coffee, tea, and juice. 

Throughout his career as Count, Lucio’s done a pretty good job making sure he’s got a ton of people doing the tasks he can’t bother himself to mind. Shady political practices, but it leaves plenty of time for leisure. His idea of ‘work’ is exercising in the grounds, polishing up his swordwork and making sure he’s still fighting fit. Watching Lucio spar, you can’t deny he’s talented. By the end, he’s sweating but invigorated. 

Dinner is an official affair, meeting with a visiting dignitary from Zadith and his husbands. The feast is meant to impress, the huge table piled high with roasts and rare wines. There’s no deals to broker or anything, this is just the life of royals, visiting each other to pay respects and maintain relationships. Lucio takes one of the husbands by arm and leads them through the castle on a tour, charismatic as always. 

Evening comes. You and Lucio bathe in his huge pool, drinking wine and eating desserts. He spends half an hour applying his various skin creams, and he gently combs a fragrant oil through your hair. Mercedes and Melchior follow the two of you to his bedroom, and you settle on his couches, one dog to each for pets and snuggles. 

After a midnight snack of wine and cheese, Lucio calls you back under the covers so he can bid you lay on his chest for a while, which he loves. The fireplace burns low, casting warm red all around his massive bedroom.

[lollercakesff]

Home Bound

Survive. Escape. Go home? To what home?

Jyn and Cassian escape from Scarif and settle on a small planet in the outer rim where the traditions are vibrant and the Rebellion barely scratches at their front door. Years pass, they live. But then the scratching at their door gets heavier, and heavier, and soon there’s a knock that calls them back into the service. They go because to say no would go against their very fiber, but when everything they’ve come to know disappears, how do they remember what they’re fighting for?

Survive. Escape. Go home. Right?

A gift for the Rebelcaptain Secret Santa gift exchange for @youareiron-andyouarestrong​!

Read it all on AO3!

Part One:

Step 1: Survive.

Step 2: Get off Scarif

Step 3: Get back to Yavin V

Step 4: …. Step 4?

They make it through steps one through three and he doesn’t understand how exactly it happens. One second he’s on a beach and the sky's alight and the heat is almost unbearable but for her body wrapped around his… Next, he’s tucked in a medbay bed on a ship with his hand wrapped up in Jyn’s, her grip tight despite the soft breaths filling his room. He doesn’t know what’s supposed to come next and for once, maybe he’s okay with that.

And so he pulls her hand closer and ignores the twinge in his spine as he wraps himself around her, unwilling to let the heat from before eat him alive like his mind is convinced it will.

---

They settle on Calabriana, a small planet in the Outer Rim where nobody knows their names. The anonymity was a requirement after Scarif, after the desolation of Yavin V, after Hoth.

Cassian and Jyn had stuck around the Rebellion after Scarif to fight and it had been years of it, endless days of missions that had picked at their open wounds until one day - a day like any other - Cassian had come back to his bunk to find Jyn curled up in his cot, shivering and vacant.

“Jyn?” Cassian breathes, hesitating at his door. It wasn’t that she was here, in his room, which made him pause. Nor was it finding her in his bed, even though they never explicitly talked about that . No, the panic in his chest wasn’t any of those things. It was the look on her face, the way it didn’t flicker to life like it normally would. Something was wrong. “Are you alright?”

She doesn’t respond, not verbally at least. All she does do is close her eyes until her brow furrows and her breathing seems to stop under his inspection. It's enough to bring him to her side, his hand coming to her cheek as he drops to his knees beside her.

“Come back to me,” he whispers softly, the words unfamiliar on his lips.

They had always been her words, murmured into his temple after a bad dream, after a mission went sideways and she had to come find him. Her fingers on his chin, her cheek pressed to his brow so he didn’t have to hide his pained expression.

“Jyn, come back,” he repeats and her eyes blink open, flickering up to meet his. He exhales a shaky breath and slides his thumb along her jaw. “Do you want to talk about it?” She shakes her head and he follows as she pulls him into the bed, her small frame tucking into his chest as though she was set to disappear into him.

An hour passes. Then two. It’s late when she whispers what she needs, the feeling resonating within him like a ricocheted gunshot.

“I can’t be here anymore. I need to leave. Come with me?”

He doesn’t think before he utters his reply: “Yes.”

It’s two days later that they’re boarding their ship, the half-repaired K2SO droid packed away and their small bag of worldly possessions fastened in the hold.

Leia had come to say goodbye, as had Draven and Bodhi and Kes. Their small farewell had gone mostly unannounced. The heroes of Scarif disappeared into the sky, almost as though their lives in the Rebellion after Scarif were but ghosts haunting hallways. Maybe they had been.

---

Life on Calabriana was hard. Not in the sense of working themselves to death or being required to go on high risk missions every day like an endless rotation of pain and misery. No. It was hard in the way that living a quiet life after so much suffering was hard. It was the silence, and the calm way that life moved like a snake in the grass, weaving and slithering through time until it rounded in and tried to consume itself.

At first, Cassian was sure they’d made a mistake. His hours helping build a home were well spent, yes, but the nights were almost unbearable. There was no intel to keep his mind occupied when the nightmares wouldn’t cease, no halls to endlessly walk until he fell asleep on a crate or in a corner hidden from view. On Calabriana, there was only silence and the creak of the floors under his feet, Jyn’s bedroom door always closed as he debated raising his fist and disturbing her sleep. He doesn’t, at least not until one day she pulls it open and reaches for his hand, drawing him into her room and into her bed.

Neither of them say it out loud but every sleepless night from that night on - and even some in between - ends with finding solace in one another’s arms. And then one night, as Cassian hovers in her doorway as she readies for sleep, he straightens and finally pulls himself together.

“I don’t want to sleep in my own bed anymore,” he admits, cautious and low.

“I thought we already gave up on that idea,” Jyn answers evenly, pulling her work top over her head and tugging one of his old shirts from her drawer to use as a nightshirt. The hem hovers mid-thigh and he forces himself not to stare even though his whole body lights with the familiar draw of her.  

“Really?” He counters and she lifts a brow in reply. In another second she’s standing before him, hands on her hips in challenge.

“Really. I asked you to leave the Rebellion with me and you did. I never really understood why you thought you needed to sleep in another room but I wasn’t going to push you. Figured you’d come around eventually.”

“You mean you were already at this point and I’ve been the one holding back?” The thought surprises him, all of the signals for the reality of their arrangement finally falling into place. Oh .

“Maybe,” she smirks and he sighs, reaching for her hips and drawing her close to his chest. The kiss is anything but chaste and in the morning when they wake - wrapped around one another like vines on a lush jungle planet - they don’t talk about how things have changed and what it means, instead choosing to simply share a room like it was a practical merging of resources.

---

Sharing a room becomes sharing a life. They work the fields together, go to town together, and when the nights are particularly cold with the seasonal change they cling and make their own heat together.

Their first few months on Calabriana pass uninterrupted by guests until one night there’s a knock on their door, a stricken look passing over Jyn’s face as Cassian gets up from where he’s settled with a story and his tea. He hesitates at the door, sucking in a breath, before he pulls it open to see a small crowd of humanoid beings huddled outside in elaborate colourful costumes. The sight makes him uneasy until one takes a breath.

And then they start to sing.

It’s maybe only five minutes. Maybe ten. Before the group nods and bids their farewells, walking off into the night as Cassian shuts the door and turns back to face Jyn who looks just as confused.

“Local greeting committee?” Jyn offers with a shrug. Cassian nods and returns to his seat, picking up his reading and trying not to think about the odd encounter.

A few days later and Jyn and Cassian venture to town, their eyes wide as they come upon the village now lit with endless flickering lights and colours all strewn about the streets. All around them people are rushing from shop to shop, arms loaded with bags and bright smiles on their faces.

“What's going on?” He asks the supply clerk nonchalantly, his attention turned towards his chip card as he swipes it across the reader.

“It’s the season of Jule. A time of gathering and well-wishing. Have you never experienced a Calabrianan Jule before?” Cassian shakes his head and glances over to where Jyn is running her fingers along a scarf on display, her lips quirked up in a small smile. “Well, it is a wonderful time to be here. You must attend the feast. Three days from now in the market - bring your partner and gift her that lovely piece she’s admiring - it’s tradition.”

“How much for it?” Cassian asks by way of thanks. The man adds the cost to his bill and promises to wrap the gift up ahead of the festival.

Cassian doesn’t know what he’s promised to attend - was the feast a sacrificial ceremony or truly a happy occasion, he wasn't sure - but he isn’t concerned. None of the research he’d managed to dig up on this planet had talked about ritual sacrifice, so they’d probably be fine.

He hoped, at least.

---

The day of the feast, Cassian has to challenge Jyn to a competition to get her out of the house. She's too busy lounging like a Lothkat, curled up under a blanket as she enjoys her tea and hides away from the chill that has settled outside.

"I'll do the dishes for a week if you win. If I win, you have to come with me to town later," he offers, tweaking her toes with his fingers until she grins and pulls them out of his grip.

"Fine. Get the dice."

He wins by sheer luck, or at least that's what he tells himself as she rolls another snake-eyes. Two hours later and they're back in town, coming upon the small community at dusk. The lights flicker across the growing darkness and Cassian swears he can see stars in Jyn's eyes, her look of awe beautiful and serene and so far from the haunted look she'd worn the day she asked him to leave with her.

"They say there's a feast," Cassian says easily, starting to lead them forward and through the small alleys towards the market. Jyn sticks to his side and keeps her hand curled in the fabric of his pocket, holding on as they weave between groups of people, little families sprawling across swaths of space.

"A feast of what, exactly?" Jyn counters evenly, though there's no harshness to her words.

"Not sure. But the guy at the shop said we should come and I figured… if we're going to settle here we might as well try to follow some of their customs to blend in. Unless - "

"No, you're right. We can keep to ourselves but I think eventually we need to engage a bit. Good call," she adds. Cassian laughs tightly and reaches for her hand, pulling it into his own.

"Don't congratulate me yet, we've still got to survive tonight."

They arrive into the bustle of the market and are stopped short by the sight they come upon. It's like Home Base after a victory, the crowd thriving and music filling the space around the shouts of excitement. A giant tree fills the center of the square, its bows filled with lights and ornaments that sparkle and glint in the changing light. Around them, children chase each other and adults fill tables with food and drink and laughter. It feels foreign to stand on the edge, looking in at a community that wasn't theirs.

"You made it!" The clerk greets, lifting himself from his table and beckoning them over. Cassian clutches tightly to Jyn's hand and seeks her approval with a glance, her returning squeeze urging them forward. "And you've brought your lovely partner. Sit! Join us!"

They're settled into seats at the crowded table and handed cups and a bottle of something tangy. Jyn seems to evaluate the substance before pouring herself some and dipping a finger in for a taste. Cassian watches as she frowns and then softens to an easy smile, eventually lifting to take a sip. With her approval, Cassian pours himself a cup and let's the man - Hinar, as he introduces himself - bring them up to speed on the celebration.

Twelve nights of celebration. Food, family, friends as a theme with occasional gifts given to each other on the last night. An ancient tradition brought from across the universe and combined into one massive festival celebrated around the small planet.

The whole thing awed Cassian, the joy and the brightness and the welcoming nature of everyone around them. He'd never seen Jyn laugh so freely and the lightness of it was contagious, filling him too and loosening his tension for the first time in months. This was a planet still untouched by war, its few resources and minimal population making it unattractive to those looking to bleed a planet dry. They would be safe here, he was sure of it, or at least that's what he told Jyn as they wandered home a bit tipsy and a bit light on their feet.

"I think we could build something here," he murmurs as she leans into his side, the navy scarf he'd gifted her wrapped loosely around her neck.

"What do you mean?" It's not accusatory and he thinks that's good, right?

"If… if you wanted to make something out of the rest of this life. Together. I think we could do it here."

She slows her pace as they linger in the yard, her gaze finding his in the low light.

"Are you asking me to - "

"Yes. Whatever we want it to be. But I want to build it. With you."

Her eyes stay locked onto his, the colours swirling in the low light as she chews the inside of her cheek. The silence is almost deafening and he nearly takes it back, the proposal burning the back of his throat.

But then she lifts up on her toes and reaches her arms around his neck, drawing him down towards her waiting lips.

"Yes," she whispers later into his chest, her body perched over his as he slowly comes down from his release. Her sweaty sticky skin slides across his and she wraps herself around him, their breathing coming into sync. “I want to build something. With you.”

He thinks maybe this was what Step Four was about, all those months ago.

[nancypullen]

Melons and Murders

We didn't do anything special on the 4th of July. Because only 30-something percent of Tennesseans are vaccinated and the Delta variant is unpredictable, we're still avoiding crowds. It sucks because I really want to enjoy a ballgame or a concert. Downtown Nashville broke a previous record by hosting an estimated 400,000 drunken idiots for an Independence Day celebration. What could possibly go wrong there, right? So we stayed home, grilled some brats, and watched tv while our neighborhood lit up like a combat zone. It was insane. After all of that grumpy complaining, I'm actually here to pay tribute to summer food. As far as I'm concerned, the absolute QUEEN of the summer is the Sugar Kiss melon.

This melon will change your life. I've never tasted anything so good. Don't be deceived into thinking this is just a cantaloupe. This is magic in your mouth. This melon tastes like it's been injected with vanilla and sugar. They're only in season for a brief part of the summer and we eat about three a week. Not even kidding. We get ours at Publix, even though I've seen and purchased them elsewhere, the Publix melons seem to be at peak freshness. I don't know if Kroger warehouses theirs before they're in stores or what, but the Publix melons are superior. You'll spot Sugar Kiss melons right away, wrapped in their distinctive blue mesh and set apart from the other cantaloupe. Get one (no, seriously, get two) and you can thank me later. It wouldn't be summer without watermelon. I buy one every Saturday, chunk it up and keep it in a big, lidded tub in the frig. When I come in from working in the yard, hot and sweaty, a couple of pieces of chilled watermelon cools me down faster than anything I could drink. Mickey says the same thing. It's always sad toward the end of summer when watermelon becomes scarce. I have some heirloom seeds from my Grandma Ethel's watermelon patch that I treasure, and I haven't had the courage to plant them. How silly is that? I'd hate to get my hopes up and have some stupid pest ruin everything. Anyyywhooo...back to watermelon. Aside from just eating it straight, I'm addicted to this combo.

Day after day, I drop chunks of watermelon into a bowl, sprinkle some feta and a bit of chopped, fresh mint leaves, then top it with a quick squeeze of lime, just a little. Holy moley, I hear angels sing when I eat this. The super sweet melon, the salty feta, the zing from the mint and the lime - it's everything a summer dish should be. It doesn't hurt my feelings that it's really pretty to look at too. Know what else I'm addicted to? Breakfast salads. I love breakfast, it's my favorite meal of the day. I would be content to eat a hearty breakfast and then just nibble for the rest of the day. Normally I'll dice up tomato and onion and get it sizzling in a skillet, then I'll throw in some riced broccoli.

Once that's cooked through, I season and scramble two eggs and pour that in - a few stirs with a spatula and I've got a bowlful of veggie eggs and a yummy breakfast. If you're so inclined and can spare the calories, add cheese or bacon or whatever floats your boat. It's delicious, low in calories and fat, offers plenty of protein and fiber, and will keep you full all day. Winner. Lately I've been throwing together a flavorful salad...spring greens, a quarter of an avocado, a tablespoon of feta, and a tablespoon of crumbled bacon. Super simple.

Then I spritz a pan with a little olive oil and fry an egg. I season it like crazy and plop it right on top of the salad.

When I cut through the egg it releases the warm, yummy yolk as a dressing and coats everything. It's a delicious, healthy breakfast. The mister and I are still working the Weight Watchers thing. It's so stinkin' easy and NOTHING is off limits. I'm on the Purple Plan because I don't like to log things, so I have a bazillion "free" foods but only 16 points a day. The items that cost me are fatty things like mayo and butter. As long as I eat clean and whole foods (even whole grain pasta is zero points for me!) I can finish every day with points to spare. A grilled chicken breast with roasted broccoli and sweet potato is a zero point meal. How simple is that? Of course, that doesn't mean I don't have treats. It didn't take me long to figure out that a macaron is just two points and totally worth it. I'm down 21 pounds and it's been embarrassingly easy to do. It's been a slow drip, pretty much a pound a week, but it's the easiest diet I've ever been on and I think I've tried them all. Sorry, I rambled. I promised melons and murder. The murder part is really more of a question for you. It's no secret that I'm a true crime junkie. My DVR history is frightening- Snapped, Cold Justice, etc. My reading list looks like I'm either planning or solving a murder. But I'm new to true crime podcasts. When I'm at my desk I like to listen to a murder or two, usually tuning into a Dateline series (the Mommy Doomsday episodes will blow your mind). I'm in the market for other podcasts though, so I'm asking for your favorites. You don't have to answer here, you can always send suggestions to njpullen@gmail.com - no need to create a Tumblr profile or any of that. Hit me with your favorites, My Favorite Murder? Anatomy of a Murder? Crime Junkie? Sword & Scale? Do tell! Gotta' go. It's time for me to trot out to the garden and pick more cucumbers and have a chat with the birds and squirrels. Summer is in full swing and I intend to enjoy these days. Besides, if I don't go out and get sweaty, I can't justify eating more melon. I have an agenda. I hope you're having some fun with your day. Stir up some giggles, even if you're just laughing at yourself. I used to write jokes on Post-It notes and leave them on the doors of bathroom stalls at work. I wonder how many pantsless people chuckled ? Go spread some sunshine and make sure you get some on yourself. Stay safe, stay well, stay sunny. XOXO - Nanccy

[authorjulianneday]

TRIAL TUESDAY | October 20, 2020

Challenge: Combine Cyberpunk + Mythology

Word Count: 1946

This is a bit of a throwback. I wrote it back in 2018 for a contest challenge and have edited it off and on since. It combines the myth of the sirens and the cyberpunk/sci fi genre.

CYBER SONG

Siren.

Like some sort of whispered threat, it always loomed over the inhabitants of Tech City Newport. Only natural, she supposed. They lived so near the James River. Ghost stories and tales of terrifying merpeople eked into every form of media the humans had. Pathetic, really.

Symphonia reached the sewer exit her contact had mentioned. Heaving herself out of the water, she grimaced. Waiting for her tail to fully molt and leave legs beneath, she began reconnaissance. Even down in this water runoff zone, lines of electricity fed the ravenous city above.

Scales and fibers lay about her, and what remained, she peeled off with her clawed fingers. She hissed in pain. The molting left behind two skinny limbs, translucent in the low light of the tunnel. Legs. So ugly. And so primitive.

Her legs gained more pigment the longer she waited. Gaining her balance, she rummaged through the chest of clothes in the stash used by Sirens. The fabric scratched at her new skin. It felt so fake, so synthetic.

Synthetic described everything the humans touched.

As much as she despised the buzzing hum of electricity it certainly sounded better than what she would deal with above ground. The constant chatter of voices in the megacity made her ill. Why couldn’t humans be content with silence?

A rusted metal ladder led up into the streets. When the Sirens had first investigated the city fifty years ago, they’d made sure to locate a spot in seclusion. Or, as close to seclusion as one could get.

She closed her eyes. Symphonia listened intently for the distinct tone that each auditory implant gave off. She heard only one nearby. It would be all too easy. Symphonia began to hum, matching the auditory implant’s tone, until she had gotten control of it. She held the tone with her honeyed voice, moving from a hum to a song. In the song she wove words of exhaustion and sleep. A few moments later something heavy dropped against the ground nearby.

Symphonia used her claws to force open the sewer cover, a smile on her pale lips. She heaved herself up into the street and instantly became bombarded by neon lights, the stench of dozens of food stalls, and raucous noise. Her nose crinkled in disgust. Synthetic.

She glanced around. Every time she came to the surface, something changed, and this was no different. Symphonia saw a new sign for some kind of body mod. If only humans realized the modifications led to increasing ease for the Sirens to take them down. She couldn’t see the sky, but that didn’t surprise her. Only the greys and blacks of concrete and rubber loomed overhead. Tech City Newport knew only artificial light, no sun; it had too many buildings and overpasses and walkways.

Her last contact had told her to head to the subcity New Wave. Leaving the small alley and going out into the bustling metropolis of the world the humans had created, Symphonia grimaced. Smoke wafted through the air and obscured the corners of the covered walkway.

The sound of bullets rang through the air in the distance. Symphonia studied the nearby humans immediately, and seeing they felt no danger, continued on her way. It seemed like every time she stalked Tech City Newport, gunshots peppered the air like rain on the waves at home. Another synthetic version of beauty, perverted by the filth of the humans.

She passed a massive food court and again became assaulted by the stench of humans. The sound of the grills and sloshing drinks caused her to cringe. She felt it. So she began to hum to herself, using a calming tone to resist the cacophony around her. Passing a condiment bar, she grabbed a handful of salt packets and stuck them in her pockets for later.

Heading into the elevator, she selected “New Wave” on the touch panel.

Symphonia chuckled out loud. New Wave sounded attractive; too bad it was filled with Modders and their filth and no water at all. Modders could only make trash. Not only did it end up down in her home, but it spilled out everywhere in Tech City Newport.

As the elevator moved upwards, she watched out the sides. From there she could see down into the megacity. Humans waddled about on land on their funny legs or sped by in their cars.

“New Wave.”

As the doors rolled open and she stepped out, Symphonia looked around carefully. New Wave always attracted a bad crowd, and it made perfect sense that her target had holed herself up there. Dr. Josey McMillian, PhDs in biochem, biotech, and engineering. Brilliant woman, according to the sirens’ sources. Brilliant enough to never install an auditory implant.

Symphonia shied away from a screaming machine to her right as she rounded a corner. Sparks flew from a welder repairing a pipe. The slight hum of various auditory implants sounded around her. Pinpointing the exact frequency she needed took concentration. At first she heard mostly nonsense, frequencies from random Modders loitering around on the New Wave level. Most gambled, some waited for black market deals. But eventually she caught the note of a man she’d been tipped off to.

A drink sat unattended on a food cart. Symphonia swiped it. Lifting the lid, She casually leaned against a wall, acting as one of the passersby with nowhere to go, and discreetly dumped three packets of salt into the drink. She could feel the sweats starting, and her arms hurt a bit. Muscle cramps.

She took a drink and nearly vomited. It tasted terribly of sugar, but she downed it. She needed the salt. It wouldn’t take long for the salt to act. Until then, she relaxed. When her arms stopped hurting and her tongue didn’t feel as dry, Symphonia listened in to the implant frequency. It sounded close by.

With a nod to herself, she went around the corner, still sipping on the straw casually. A door stood not far away in a darkened corner. Not suspicious at all. A man stood guard with a large rifle in his hands. His obvious synthetic eye would pinpoint her as having no body mods momentarily. Time to go to work.

“Hello sailor…don’t be afraid…” She continued on quietly, making sure only he could hear the song. It wouldn’t affect anyone else and they would instantly make her out as a Siren. “Keep quiet…good man…yes…stay quiet…”

She took out a folded piece of paper. Symphonia moved up to the man and, seeing him hopelessly under her control, she offered him the fake note. She knew they could see her on camera. “Let me in…and smile…”

He did as instructed, letting the computer read his ocular implant. The sterile grey door slid open without a sound. Her new warrior followed without hesitation. She just had to maintain her song. As a second door opened, they walked into a well lit laboratory. Tanks of various solutions stood around the room and in one was suspended a blue haired, blue skinned mermaid. Her eyes were open, but unseeing.

Rage filled Symphonia. She’d known Fortisima had been captured, but seeing her there, held like a slave by those she should’ve been devouring… Her song halted.

A groan from behind made her turn. The man she’d been controlling looked at her. She drew out the gun she’d swiped and shot the Modder through the skull. His scarlet blood splattered all over the door. Not the plan, but she’d make it work.

Two adjoining doors flew open. Symphonia ducked behind a counter. She reached out and tore the dead man’s automatic rifle out of his clammy hands and loaded it. Though certainly not as practiced as the humans, she knew her way around a firearm. Practice made perfect. As she heard them shouting for reinforcements, she popped up and shot them both. One died, the other did not, his skin made of metal of some sort. She grunted in anger. Synthetics.

Whipping around and leaping over the counter, Symphonia let her claws come out. One slash, and the wires in his neck broke. Of all the mods, cyber skulls were the most disgusting. Blood and oil dripped down her hands. She could taste the iron in the air.

A bullet grazed her arm and she cried out. Using the man’s dagger, she threw it straight into the ocular implant of the aggressor. Then, she found his frequency and sang. The gun entered his mouth. Symphonia narrowed her eyes. He dropped to the ground, a hole in his head.

Another appeared behind. Trying to fire again, the gun clicked. Symphonia grabbed a new one. But as she went to test it, it wouldn’t fire. She grimaced. A coded gun. She sent it sliding down the corridor in anger and slashed his throat. Grabbing an explosive from the closest dead Modder, she threw it down the hall after the gun. It went off with a bang.

She reached down and picked up two modded magnums. The handles molded to her grip instantly. Broken bodies lay strewn about the corridor. A man who had lost his leg screamed, writhing on the ground. He clawed at his burnt face. Symphonia paused. With a sigh, she put him out of his misery.

Symphonia split the air with a shriek. It rocked the building, and several vials shattered on the ground. The men on the other side of the door cried out. Their auditory implants broke apart on the inside. Rendered deaf, they staggered about disoriented.

A woman shook her head. Black haired, blue eyed, no body mods to speak of, and only momentarily dazed. She screamed at the disoriented soldiers and kicked one. Her lab coat had been stained with blood. “I paid you louses for protection!” 

“Poor protection.” Symphonia’s voice lilted across the room as she stood in the doorway. Before anyone else could react, she’d taken out half the men, leaving four groping for their weapons. Symphonia leapt forward, dodging the doctor’s bullets, and used one of them as a human shield. His body filled with bullets. She threw him at the woman. In her effort to sidestep, she hit her head on a table.

Symphonia turned on the remaining three.  One she sang to, and a second became another shield. Riddled with bullet wounds, Symphonia slit his throat. The last two died screaming.

Pain shot through her arm. The small bullet wound from earlier bled down her pale skin. Symphonia tasted it. She needed more salt, more ocean water. As the doctor reached her weapon, Symphonia kicked over a metal table. It crashed into the woman.

With the doctor pinned, Symphonia stood over her. She disposed of her weapons. It would only take a swipe of her claws to end the woman’s life. “Any last words?”

Through heaving breaths, the woman laughed. Blood clogged her mouth. With a last spit, she just shook her head. “Whatever your mission is? It’s a failure. Your friend is dead.”

“You were my mission.”

Her target died without a scream.

One last duty remained. No human could be allowed to retain the body of a mer. The woman’s blue tail had already molted away from the lack of liquid, but her naked body still had a tint of blue. In the back of the laboratory, tubs of gasoline for the Modders sat unbroken. She grabbed two and soaked the entire place, pouring the last bit over Fortisima.

Symphonia lit the trail of gasoline from the entrance and watched as it engulfed the lab. Her only safety lay in the water. Away from the Mods, away from the synthetics.

[sweetsmellosuccess]

Sundance 2021: Days 6 & 7

Films: 5 Best Film of the Day(s): Users

All Light, Everywhere: In 2015, during the riots and rebellion in the immediate aftermath of the Freddy Gray killing by local police, the Baltimore Police department agreed with a private entrepreneur to send up a secret surveillance plane over the city, in order to monitor, in clear HD images, those neighborhoods most primed for a violent reaction. They did this without informing the mayor’s office, or other local government agencies. This is only a facet of Theo Anthony’s far-reaching doc on the subject, not just of surveillance, but also the Act of Looking as any type of objective measure of reality. Anthony stays fixated on Baltimore, his hometown, when he tours the AXON corporate headquarters in Arizona, the makers of the most used police body cams and taser weapons, where the company CEO enthusiastically walks through the offices and production warehouse, as these items are being manufactured. Not surprisingly, despite their near-ubiquity amongst American police stations, AXON’s most lucrative asset is its intense data collection, via its evidence.com portal, where law enforcement uploads thousands of hours of video each day. Anthony also spends time with marketing focus groups, camera-toting carrier pigeons, and scientists exploring the framework of our visual understanding. It’s at times an abstract experience  —  the film communicates its intentions largely through bracketed text blocks, and a voice-actor, who acknowledges their role in your understanding the film’s premise. He also makes frequent use of past scientific thought on the subject, including the creation of the earliest forms of motion picture recording, to best exemplify the more we attempt to create visual “truth,” the more the standard slips through our fingers. Notably, the AXON recording equipment is designed to give the idea of full-disclosure with respect to the police’ behavior, as a means of protecting the community, but it’s clear that the appeal to law-enforcement is actually quite the opposite: Providing enough legally permissible evidence to either exonerate their officers, or to put the plaintiff behind bars. As Anthony’s pithy film points out, the act of seeing is still an act.

The World to Come: It is, of course, deeply unfair to compare each film to the highwater mark in a given genre  —  to say, for example, ‘Well, I quite liked that hard-boiled egg, but it’s no souffle au fromage’  —  but the current spate of turn-of-the-century hardship lesbian romance films makes it near impossible not to put them in canonical order. Leading the way, it must be said, is the first of this current iterations of romances, Céline Sicamma’s excellent Portrait of a Lady on Fire, which took my breath away. If the low-water mark of this triad is last year’s Ammonite, which relied far too much on its esteemed leads to do all the heavy lifting; Mona Fastvold’s film nestles somewhere close to the latter, but nowhere near the rarefied air of the former. What Fastvold does make use of is the natural environment in which the film was shot (Bucharest, as a believable stand-in for Upstate New York), filled with snow, and mud, and the damp gray features of that clump of woods in the valley of the mountains nearby. The story gives us two farming couples, both miserable, albeit in slightly different ways. Abigail (Katherine Waterston) and Dyer (Casey Affleck) genuinely care about one another, but the loss of their young daughter to diphtheria has turned their marriage into a sort of continual wake; and Tallie (Vanessa Kirby) and her dour husband, Finney (Christopher Abbott), who don’t have any children, and with Finney’s grimly cruel nature, aren’t likely to have any. In their shared loneliness and misery, Abigail and Tallie become friends, then eventually lovers, finding in each other’s arms, the wonder of worlds and joys otherwise lost to them. The film certainly means well, but as told mainly in journal entry and letter VO  —  Waterston’s voice so muted and unwavering, she sounds like an NPR journalist reporting a story  —  it's so modulated and chaste, the emotional arc never rises beyond the slightly bowed. We aren’t given enough privvy into Tallie’s own state of mind, so thoroughly are we inside the consciousness of Abigail, to feel the full weight of her decisions. It’s earnest, but not particularly moving.

Flee: You don’t see a ton of animated documentaries, but in the case of Jonas Poher Rasmussen’s harrowing immigrant’s survivor tale, there was no way to catalogue the early life of Amin, the film’s subject, without extensive recreations in the first place. As a result, there is a strikingly evocative visual element to the manner Rasmussen and his animation team document Amin’s journey from war-torn Afghanistan, to Moscow, to Estonia, back to Moscow, and finally to Copenhagen. After his father is taken into custody by the Mujahideen in the late ‘80s, Amin and his mother, brother, and sisters fly out to Russia, in the months just after the fall of communism. From one chaotic country to another, the family desperately try to leave Russia for western Europe, but with unreliable traffickers, and a lone older sibling in Sweden, having to scrounge every penny he makes in order to make arrangements, things move in an agonizingly halting way. Eventually, Amin gets safely to Copenhagen, but is allowed to stay only by having to lie to Swedish authorities that the rest of his family is dead. If that weren’t enough, adding to Amin’s fears, he feels the need to tell his family  —  now scattered about Europe  —  about his being gay. Through extended interviews with Amin, Rasmussen teases out his friend’s full story, spread out over multiple flashbacks, while interlocking with Amin’s current serious relationship in Copenhagen, with a man he plans to marry, if only he can finally accept and trust in the idea of having a permanent home. Rasmussen’s genuine friendship with Amin adds a warm sheen of empathy to the proceedings, even in the ways not everything makes perfect sense. You get the understanding that Amin, having long buried his extremely difficult past journeys, is hesitating, even now, to fully unburden himself all at once, as if he has to take the time to reconcile all the different versions of his own story he’s had to live with, in order to make sense of it all.

Hive: In the era of #metoo, and Sundance’s continued efforts to represent female-helmed films at the festival, it’s becoming ever more clear in film after film, the biggest impediment to systemic change in culture and government is the ever-so-delicate male ego, which protects itself from damage more often than not by absolutely brutalizing anything that would dare threaten it. In Blerta Basholli’s excellent debut feature, based on a true story, the year is 1999, and in the aftermath of the grisly Serbian War, many communities are still awaiting word on the many missing, presumed dead family members who were taken away and will very likely not be coming back. One such half-widow is a fierce woman named Fahirje (Yllka Gashi), who still takes care of her missing husband’s father (Cun Lajci), as well as her two children. With funds dwindling, and her honey business not faring as well without her husband, a seasoned beekeeper, Fahirje gets a drivers’ license and begins a new business, hand-crafting jars of ajvar, the Serbian roasted red pepper sauce, and selling them at the local grocery. Despite violent, brutish opposition from many of the men in her small village of Krusha, whose favorite put-down is to call her a “whore,” Fahirje soldiers on, eventually enlisting many of the other village widows to join her business. Through it all, she has to contend with her own emotional pain  —  her husband vanished years ago, but has yet to be identified amongst the remains of the mass graves that become the final resting place for many Serbians. Basholli shoots the film primarily as handheld verite, documenting the day-to-day building of the business as well as the emotional upheaval of her protagonist. In this, Gashi, with her smoldering eyes, the lines of determination etched into her face, is a revelation. Fahrije suffers the multitude of slings and arrows  —  most miserably coming from her own teen daughter, who is embarrassed at first at the attention and gossip her mother is getting   —  with dignified solemnity. By the end, she has empowered a generation of women, while paving the way for countless others. Not all revolutions are won on the battlefield.

Users: It’s indeed jarring to see a film so dedicated to visual sumptuousness, so satisfyingly transfixing in its use of pattern, motion, and juxtaposition, but all in service towards an epitaph to our inevitable extinction. Natalia Almada’s cinematic essay uses its visual poetics to lure us in, to bewitch us with its beauty as it gently eases the blade of the knife deep in our midsection. A mother of two young children, Almada begins the film contemplating her babies, and the world in which they have been brought into, voracious in its use of natural materials, polluting the oceans with miles of fiber-optic cable, burning our forests to the ground, exploiting the Earth for every gram of mineable material, every ounce of oil, all to fill the growing chasm between ourselves and the formerly natural world in which we used to inhabit. The film moves at a placid, even-keeled pace. There are many beautifully composed slow-fixed shots of fields, trees, cityscapes from high above; juxtaposed against contrasting conceptions: an overhead drone shot of the Pacific’s cresting coastline cutting to an AT&T manhole cover; her own child’s face lit by the glow of a computer as he fixates on the screen in front of him, to a distant plane’s long vapor trail through a swath of sky; an infant breast-feeding to the endless rows of sprouts in a hydroponic lab. There is so much stuff, so many things, from shipping crates to solar panels, all slipping past the lens of DP Bennett Cerf’s cameras, so as to become something akin to a sort of visual intervention: You can see it, the film is telling us, you know very well how this is going to end. Almada doesn’t provide answers, or even firm conclusions, exactly. These are the things she is wrestling with in her own conscience, the horrific implications of otherwise deeply pleasing symmetric images. The film is a stunning ode to our demise.

Sundance goes mostly virtual for this year’s edition, sparing filmgoers the altitude, long waits, standing lines, and panicked eating binges  —  but also, these things and more that make the festival so damn endearing. In any event, Sundance via living room is still a hell of a lot better than no Sundance. A daily report.

[forever-rogue]

38 and 60 of the fall prompts w/ bucky bby? i love love love your blog💖💖

38.  “Gourds are so ugly but also so cute. I want a thousand of them.” &  60. “If you say Halloween one more time-” “You’ll kiss me.” (ps - thank you so, so much!!)

»»————-　♡　————-««

You hummed contently to yourself as you finished tacking up some Halloween garland, entwining a strand of black and orange together, little ghosts mixed in. You stopped and took a step back, admiring your handiwork. You’d taken advantage of Bucky’s absence from your shared apartment and gotten all the bins of decorations out, ready to make everything festive. 

You’d asked Bucky if he wanted to assist you, but he’s just gave you a non committal response, saying that he might help when he got back. Which immediately let you know that it was a big old no. He wasn’t a big fan of decorating, and on top of that he seemed rather down lately, so you figured this would cheer him up. You’d hoped anyway. He knew how much you loved Halloween and fall, and maybe somehow the enthusiasm would infect him too.

The first thing you’d done was gone to the local farmer’s market, and found lots and lots of little pumpkins and gourds. You’d scooped up as many as you could manage to carry in the bags you brought with you, and then you’d gone back and bought two large one pumpkins, so you and Bucky could carve them later. You weren’t sure what he’d think of them or say, but you hoped he would like them. You knew it wasn’t much, but it was something, and you think it would make everything seem more festive and cheery. 

“Babe?” you heard him call as he opened the door, quickly tossing the keys into the bowl by the front door. You hadn’t even heard him open the door, and it startled you; you had wanted to be done before he got back to surprise him. You panicked and put out a few last minute (or more like second) spiders out and ran into the hall to meet Bucky. 

“Hi Bucks,” you said nervously as you hugged him, taking him by surprise and almost knocking him over. He tensed for a moment before realizing it was just you, and wrapping his strong arms around you and holding you tightly. You burrowed your face in his chest, inhaling his familiar scent and letting out a content sigh, “I missed you.”

“I was only gone for a few hours,” he chuckled as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, feeling relieved that he was back home and in your arms. His anxiety still got the best of him at times, despite his best efforts, and nothing calmed him down quite as well as you. Sometimes you didn’t even have to do much, just your presence was enough, but you always tried to do whatever it was that he needed. 

Some days it was just holding him while he laid down and remained silent, other times it was listening to him for hours and not saying anything and letting him vent, sometimes it was the act of running a hot bath and dragging him into it with you. It varied, but he always improving however slightly, and you knew you’d do absolutely anything for him, just as he would for you.

“I know,” you shrugged lightly, taking a step back from him and kissing the tip of his nose. A light blush crept into his cheeks as you took his hand and give it a light squeeze, “I always miss you when you’re gone, if it’s five minutes, five hours, or five days.”

“I love you,” he whispered quietly, “sorry for being such a grump lately. I’ve just been…feeling a little out of sorts lately.”

“I love you too Bucks,” you promised, “and don’t ever apologize for you how feel, my love. It’s okay, and besides…I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve got a surprise for you!”

“For me?” he asked, perking up a little bit, the corners of his mouth lifting into a small smile, as you grabbed his hands and put them over his eyes, “should I be concerned?”

“Nope,” you insisted, grabbing onto his arm and slowly leading him into the living room and dining room area, “tell me, Bucky Barnes, are you ready for the surprise to end all surprises?”

“What on earth-”

“Okay, well maybe it’s not that exciting of a surprise,” you giggled, “sorry to steal the thunder a little bit. But I do hope you like it! Hold out your hand.”

“Y/N,” he almost laughed a little bit, “you know this goes against every fiber of my being, not to mention years of training.”

“But it’s me,” you reassured him, “and I’d never do anything to hurt you. Never ever. Now…hold out your hand.”

“Okay,” he agreed reluctantly, holding out his left hand to you. You grabbed one of the smallest gourds, a bumpy little white on and tucked it into his outstretched palm, “what the earth on this!?”

“Open your eyes,” you laughed at the shocked expression on his face. His bright blue orbs snapped open and he intently studied the small object in his hand. One of his eyebrows raised in suspicion, but then it quickly dawned him - it was a little gourd. He scanned the room and noticed all the decorating you had done, “ta-da! What do you think?”

“You did all this?” he went over and touched some of the cobwebs, admiring all of your hard work. His soft eyes lit up, “it’s wonderful. All of it!”

“I was hoping you’d like it,” you stood behind him and wrapped your arms his waist, resting your head against his back. You could hear the steady beat of his heart thumping away, the sound almost soothing to your ears, “it’s just a little something to make the place feel more lively. And Halloween is my favorite as you well know! I wanted to cheer you up.”

“I…this is amazing,” he agreed, noticing that you’d gone a little overboard with the gourds, “h-how many of these little guys did you buy?”

“Umm…not sure,” you admitted sheepishly. If you were being honest, you’d lost count after shoving the first twenty into your bag, “a lot?”

“They’re so funny looking,” he said as he turned around and starting picking up various and examining them. Each of them was so different and unique in their own way, “but I kind of like them.”

“Gourds are so ugly but also so cute. I want a thousand of them!” you finally confessed, relieved that he approved of everything, and that it seemed to cheer him up. He turned around and gestured at the assortment strewn around the room, “hey, it’s not that many.”

“I’m willing to bet it must be close,” he laughed, “but if you want one thousand, two thousand, or three thousand, you can have them all. You deserve all the happiness and gourds in the world.”

“Do you mean it, Bucks?” you asked eagerly, clapping your hands excitedly, “because I was thinking that, for Halloween-”

“If you say Halloween one more time-” he laughed as he put his fingers on your lips, trying his best to shush. You gave him a big pout and kissed his finger.

“You’ll kiss me,” you finished for him, teasing him and giving him a big smile. He tried for about two seconds to remain serious, but ended up giving in, his stern expression melting almost immediately. 

“I suppose I could do that,” he agreed, putting his hand under your chin and tilting your face up to his before giving you the gentlest of kisses. You practically melted into his touch; every kiss felt like the first one, and you were sure you’d never get used to them. He was the one for you, you absolutely sure of that, and little moments like this just solidified that for you.

“Thank you,” you said after you pulled away, heart beating rapidly and feeling breathless as ever. He tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy.

“For what?” 

“Being you,” you shrugged, “loving me. Being the best thing in my life. I love you, Buck.”

“I love you too, Y/N,” he said quietly, “you’re easily the best thing in my life. Now or ever.”

“Does that mean,” you started as you turned to walk away, pulling him after you, “that you’ll join me in some pumpkin carving adventures?”

“How could I ever say no to you?”

“And you’ll help me finish decorating?” you grinned at him, “I can’t reach all those nooks and crannies, and I could use a tall, strong man to help me out!”

“You? Of all the people in the world, I don’t think you’d need help,” he crossed his arms and gave you a self-satisfied little smirk.

“Fine, Barnes, fine,” you poked his chest, “I’ll just call Sam and have him help me-”

“Over my dead body,” he quickly changed his tune and the two of you burst into laughter, “you know I’ll help you, babe. Now, let’s get place looking like the place to be. Maybe we can throw a Halloween party or something year…how does that sound?”

“Yes!” you said without a moment of hesitation, “a million times yes!”