#and given my laptop is not working any new stuff will have to wait a bit

[bluepallilworld]

HEY I MADE A BAD GUYS MUG THAT DOES NOT GIVE AWAY YOU'RE AN UTMV FAN :D

If you want it, I know have a society6 account :3

https://society6.com/product/dark8445873_mug?sku=s6-27459703p30a27v199

@shinechermont hehe it is the project I was talking about (thanks for the inspiration for what objects to use)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 22

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: Sinuses are trying but I'm fighting!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

"There you are. Lots to go around," Frigga seals the top of another container. "It'll be a nice surprise, eh?"

"Uh, thank you," you offer a fragile smile.

"Of course, dear. I know how stressful it can be to care for the sick. Odin, my husband, had a scare a few years back. A heart episode..." she explains as she puts the large containers in a cloth bag, "it was a rather eventful family dinner, to say the least."

You let your smile fall. You're reminded of your father on the floor, lifeless, your mouth over his as you desperately tried to breathe life into him. The kitchen blurs around you as you revert to the horror of that moment.

"Darling," Frigga frightens you with a gentle squeeze on your forearm, "apologise if I said something."

"No, no, my dad will be happy," you roll the tension from your shoulders. "Leslie too."

"Leslie?" She prompts curiously.

"His nurse. Sometimes she cooks dinner so this will save her some work."

"Ah, a nurse. That must be expensive."

"A little," you admit, "I have some stuff to finish up on still..."

"Oh, don't let me keep you any longer. I know how demanding my son can be," she pats the bag and slides it to the corner of the counter, "this will be waiting for you."

"Thank you. Again."

You turn to go, little, reluctant steps as you venture back into the large house. Dread slows your feet like a ball and chain as you climb the staircase, pausing every few steps to listen. Mr. Laufeyson is lurking somewhere, like a snake in the grass, you know it.

You turn towards the library and pass the open study door. You peek inside and find it empty.  You press on and knock before you enter the library. Alone, you shut the door and let out a heavy breath.

Your heart is racing as if you've escaped some terrifying race. You go to the desk and sit, leaning forward to plant your elbows in front of the closed laptop and cradle your head. What is happening? You can't handle all this. You need to get it together. But how? You've never dealt with any of this before; the spreadsheet, the woman coddling you, and the man who looms in the shadows.

Shoot! You forgot about Ronan. He's due to finish soon. You should go check on him. You stand up and spin, stopping short as a figure fills the door frame between the study and library. You stare at Mr. Laufeyson like a doe caught before a speeding car.

"You have some time," he raises his wrist, checking his watch; the black band and the blue face, that little accessory that caused so much trouble.

"Um, yes, I was going to see the carpenter--"

"I've dealt with him. He's loading up his truck now," Laufeyson slithers forward, "you needn't worry about him."

"Oh, thank you, Mr. Laufeyson," you look down and open the laptop, stunned by the image on the screen. 

You expect your screensaver to cascade down but instead, there's a woman in a rather scant black and white outfit. Your lips part and you slam shut the computer. Your fingers rest on the lid as Mr. Laufeyson strides closer.

"Hope you don't mind I borrowed your laptop, my own was charging," he purrs, "bit of online shopping, seeing as my mother's hard work should save us some cost on culinary services."

"Mr. Laufeyson," you tremble, staring at the desk, "what..."

He hums and leans in, his fingers splayed wide as he places his hands on the wood, "what...hm?"

You steel yourself and force yourself to look him in the eye. You flinch at the darkness there and stutter. "Wh-what are you doing?"

He snickers and tilts his head, "I simply thought you earned a bonus with all your hard work," his tongue pokes out as he smirks. "It should suit you well..."

You take a step back, nearly falling into the chair as you collide with it. You can't hear above the pounding in your temples. No, it can't be what you think it is. He's not saying that. He can't expect you to wear that... that... thing. You stumble around the seat and scurry to the door, fumbling with the handle as his calm pursuit trails after you.

As you pull the door inward, it snaps back shut. His hand is above you on the wood as he pens you in against the door. You whimper and clutch the handle tightly, pressing yourself to the door as your heart hammers against your ribs. You shudder as his other hand curves around your waist.

"When it arrives, you will put it on," he commands, "and you will begin your duties as always."

"Mr. Laufeyson, please, I'm scared--"

"You needn't be," he purrs as he leans in to inhale your scent, his breath grazing your scalp, "you take orders rather well. I trust you will continue to do so."

"I don't--" you wisp as you brace the door, his fingertips poking into your side as he grips you tighter, "I don't want to..."

"Mm, pet, you should know by now," he loosens his hold on you and lets his hand stretch across your stomach, dragging it up to your chest as he brings himself flush to your back, "this isn't about what you want." He bends and nips your ear with a growl, "you wouldn't want to let dear old dad down, would you?"

You whine and twist the handle frantically. You're pinned to it as he continues to grope you, rolling his body against yours from behind as he groans. You're mortified as heat radiates from his touch and floods your veins. The flames lick at you and have you tingle as nuzzles you breathily.

"Didn't think so," he rasps and slowly draws away.

He backs away as your knees buckle and you slide down the door, crumpling against it. His shadow struts away as your hands shake and you watch them in a haze of shock. You're weak, you're stupid, and you're worthless.

You could scream for help, you could run out, you could try. But you won't because he's right. You can't. You need him more than he needs you.

💄

Mr. Laufeyson opens the door ahead of you, waiting patiently as he turns to watch you. You carry the bag of containers against your work bag down the hall as Frigga trails you. She informs you that she put a few extra goodies in as a surprise. You nod and thank her, trying not to show your discomfort as you near your employer.

"Thank you, mother, but I'm certain she is eager to be away," Laufeyson intones, "she has a loving father waiting for her at home."

You flinch. You still wonder if he'd witnessed that pocket dial or not. He's hard to read even when he's spelling it out clearly. You bid a final goodbye but scuff to a halt as Laufeyson stretches out an arm.

"Allow me," he takes the bag from you, his hand brushing yours before closing around the straps.

"Aw, Loki, my gentleman," Frigga preens, "darling, you have a good night."

You let him take the tote and your work bag. You precede him out the door, fluttering your fingers as if to shake away his touch. He follows you as his mother watches from the door. You keep your head forward as he comes close, sidling around you to open the passenger door before you can do so yourself. His behaviour sets you even more on edge. He's taunting you.

You get in and make yourself as small as you can in the seat. You refuse to look at him as you buckle in. He shuts the door and opens the rear one, placing the bags on the backseat before he diverts around the hood. He claims the driver seat, the car shifting slightly with his weight. He pushes the ignition and the car whirs to life. You fixate on the dashboard, trying to tamp out his presence and the memories nipping at your mind.

He clicks his belt into place and adjusts the mirror. He takes his time. You can tell it's deliberate. You don't understand him, but you're starting to. Everything he does is for his own delight, which he seems to draw only from your distress. You've never met anyone like him.

"A lovely day," he declares as he shifts gear, "wasn't it, pet?"

You blink and look at your lap, tracing a line on your palm.

"Now, don't be rude, I asked a question."

"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson," you mutter.

"You must be tired," his hand wanders from the stick to your knee, "why don't you close your eyes and enjoy the ride?"

"I'm okay," you fold your arms as he squeezes your leg.

"What is the matter, hm? You seem perturbed, pet."

You shudder and put your hand on his as it starts to crawl higher, "Mr. Laufeyson, please stop calling me that."

"I'm tired of your little game," he pinches the tender flesh of your leg.

"I'm not--"

"I've made myself very clear," he taps your leg before slipping his hand out from under yours, "I am interested and that's that. I am wealthy, attractive, I hardly see how it would be an issue..." he steers with one hand as he speaks to the road, "especially for someone like you."

It hurts. To have it said aloud. Not his intent, no, but your worth. Or, what you lack. Who are you to be picky?

You wiggle your nose and turn your face away. You don’t respond as your gaze pans through the window. Your eyes singe and your nose tingles. You feel like the little girl standing against the wall again. The whispers swirling all around you, fingers pointing, voices jeering…

The silence stretches the minutes to eons. You watch the streets pass and lean into each turn. Finally, he steers onto a familiar road. You’re almost there.

He slows and pulls against the curb outside your father’s house. You unbuckle the seat belt and he does the same. You glance up at him but he doesn’t notice. He gets out on his side as you hesitate. Before you can even get your door open, he’s halfway around the car.

You climb out, nearly colliding with the rear door as he swings it open. You sidestep it as he bends to reach within. He pulls out both bags, elbowing the door shut carelessly before stepping up on the pavement. You reach for your work bag and he evades your grasp.

“Ah ah, I insist, it wouldn’t be very nice to let you struggle with all of this.”

You pout. Nice? When has he ever been nice? He’s mocking you again.

“Mr. Laufeyson, please,” you beg, “I can handle it–”

“Go on, pet,” he motions ahead of him with the square tote, “it’s rather rude to refuse an offer of help.”

You cringe and shrug helplessly, throwing your hands up slightly. What else can you do but obey? He knows you have no other choice and he basks in that fact.

You turn and slouch, dragging your feet up the walk as he follows you. You search for an excuse to keep him outside. Some sort of out. He has to understand, your father is sick!

He trails you onto the porch and you stop at the door, facing him.

“I can get it from here,” you eke out.

“Nonsense, I don’t mind–”

“Please, Mr. Laufeyson, my father doesn’t feel well most days. He’s not fit for visitors.”

“I’ve come all this way. I know manners are hardly in vogue around these parts but it is only polite to invite someone in,” he reproaches.

You whimper. Why are you doing this? You don’t ask. You know already. He’s doing it because he can. Because you won’t stop him. You can’t.

“I don’t want you to go in,” you confess as you look down, “please don’t go insi–”

You hear the door, the loud groan of the squeaky hinges before the screen door hits your shoulder. You sidle out of the way and turn to Leslie as she pokes her head out. Her eyes flick up to Mr. Laufeyson and her forehead ripples in surprise.

“I was wondering what all the chatter was,” she opens the door wider, “what’s all this?”

“Um, Leslie,” you gulp, “I…” you blink and look at Mr. Laufeyson, “this is my boss. He just drove me home.”

“How nice,” she remarks, “that’s… him?” She steps out completely, “he’s your boss?”

“Loki,” he introduces himself, “charmed.”

“Me too, me too, I… Leslie, I help her father, I’m the nurse,” she explains.

“We brought dinner,” Laufeyson lifts the tote higher, “my mother wanted to send her well wishes. She heard about her father and wanted to help out.”

“That is so sweet,” Leslie fans herself, “please, sir, come in, come in, Charles will be so happy to meet you.”

Doom crashes down on you. You stand back as Leslie holds the door open and you only vaguely hear Laufeyson’s insistence that you go first. You move in a fuzzy sludge, barely aware of the world around you as your legs carry you on habit alone. 

You stand in the front entryway as Mr. Laufeyson hands over the bag. Leslie takes it with glee and hurries away. You sway and touch your forehead. You wince as he touches your arm.

“Mm, this place is… vintage,” he muses as he nudges you, “please, introduce me. I’ve heard so much.”

You breathe out shakily and curl your fingers into fists. You give a pleading look. You’re already too embarrassed to tell him the truth. He doesn’t want to meet your father and your father doesn’t want to meet him.

You surrender and turn cautiously. You meekly pass through the entryway, your father’s shoulders hunched over the table as he works on the puzzle. You shuffle closer, standing just behind the corner of the couch.

“Dad,” you utter, “um… this is my boss, Mr. Laufeyson. He, er, he brought us some food.”

“Eh, is that what she was going on about?” He snorts into a cough and covers his mouth. He makes no move to rise as he reaches for another piece.

“Charles, is it?” Laufeyson steps forward, stopping just beside you, “I prefer Loki. It’s a pleasure to finally meet.”

“Chuck,” your father snarls, “call me ‘Chuck’.”

“Of course, Chuck, I didn’t mean to presume.”

Your dad tosses the peace and scoffs. He coughs again and stands, adjusting the tub below his nose as he rounds on his visitor. Mr. Laufeyson doesn’t waver as your dad scowls in his direction.

“Wonderful home you have,” Laufeyson offers his hand.

Your father looks at his fingers then narrows his eyes at his face. Mr. Laufeyson is a head taller, though your dad is wider. He claps his hands against your boss’s and tries to jerk his hand. The effort teeters your father but does not affect the other man.

“You’re the one dressing her up like your little whore,” your dad sneers.

Mr. Laufeyson laughs curtly, “pardon?”

“Look at that skirt,” your father spits.

“Better than the rags you supplied,” Mr. Laufeyson retorts without pause, “I can see she didn’t get her manners from you.”

“What did you say to me, boy?” Your father’s face contorts with rage, “you come into my home and– and– and–” 

Your father coughs between each word until he’s racked and quaking. He grips the armrest as he leans forward and covers his mouth, unable to stop the fit. You go to help him but Mr. Laufeyson blocks you with his arm.

“He has his nurse,” he says brusquely.

“Please,” you beg.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you are,” Laufeyson lowers his voice dangerously as your father heaves, clutching his chest. 

“Fuck off,” your dad chuffs out.

Laufeyson snickers and sighs, “are you always so hospitable, sir?”

“If I wasn’t chained to this thing,” your dad clutches the tube trailing down his chest.

“Alas, you are,” the taller man shakes his head, “let’s not. We have a lovely dinner waiting for us. A real man might even be grateful.”

“I’m not hungry,” your father turns and drops onto the couch. “Choke on it.”

Mr. Laufeyson lowers his arm and takes your hand without a look. He drags you away from the couch. He pulls you level with him and commands you to lead him. You take him into the kitchen where Leslie stands by the stove, the radio buzzing on the shelf.

“Just gonna pop it in the oven for a couple,” she smiles, “hon, why don’t you grab some plates?”

“Yes, why don’t you,” Laufeyson urges, “we’ll sit down and have a lovely family dinner.”

[takiki16]

Hey so I am starting to get into Jupiter Ascending fandom (a couple years late but what can I say). I was thinking of writing a fic. Do you have any resources for JA extra information?

Thanks in advance. Also I am loving your fic (it's how I started getting into the fandom lololol). can't wait to reread!!!

HOOOOOOO BOY!!!!

I'm paging @bemusedlybespectacled, @gallifreyburning, @vr-trakowski, @sorrelchestnut, @florentinequill, @fuckyeahjupiterascending, @vrabia, and honestly ANYONE ELSE who wants to chime in here, bc HOOOOOOO BOY!

(I made that sweet puppy in fucking 2015 on my dying laptop in the travel study dorm in DC, JUPITER ASCENDING HOW I LOVE THEE)

The eternal fucking tragedy of Jupiter Ascending is that the wider world doesn't love it like we do. Does it have every single thing that turns my crank, id-wise? Sure! Does it have gorgeous over-the-top sequined costumes and extravagant set pieces that remind you at every minute that this movie specially thanked Swarovski Crystal in the credits? Sure! Does it have theeeee single most pinpoint reading of MY PERSONAL FEMALE GAZE that Channing Tatum has ever done? (sorry mister Magic Mike, but you do not even come CLOSE to "may I kill him?" in terms of sexy) SURE! Was this movie a commercial or critical success? Absolutely not 😔

There isn't, as far as I'm aware, an art book. There isn't an official novelization. There isn't even an actual script posted to the usual internet databases that isn't just an automatic shitty talk-to-text rendition of the movie dialogue. There are concept art paintings and old cast interviews floating around, and this auction website where the Wachowskis auctioned off some of the props from the movie, but as far as canon resources and extra material beyond the movie itself there isn't much. A quick duckduckgo search would probably be more helpful to you than anything else, if any of the websites still have the articles up - it WAS eight years ago, and doesn't that just break my fucking heart.

My corner of tumblr LOVED this movie. In 2015, there were TONS of posts gathering interviews, posting concept art, making cosplays, all the signs of a small but healthy fandom ecosystem. However, we call this the blue hellsite for a reason - not all of those resources are still there, and the ones that survived time and incompetent archival site coding are probably difficult to find. I would definitely recommend trawling the JA tags of all the blogs I tagged at the start of this post, as JA introduced me to two of my longest and most beloved of all mutuals. ALL of their insights were key to A Fine Chain.

There is also my own jupiter ascending tag and my more specific jupiter ascending meta tag, although I don't know how bored you are lol. The general JA tag is 105 pages - I would almost recommend just starting at page 105 and working forward from there since it chronicles my descent into kinky space angel werewolf brain rot pretty nicely. There are also my ao3 bookmarks for JA.

I WILL SAY that it has been 8 years, and I have changed into a very different person than the one I was when I first saw this movie. I don't REGRET the first few chapters of A Fine Chain, or any of my breathless meta posts, but I do think that if I were to write any of them over again, I'd hope that my writing style has matured and I'd have lots more extra material to draw from. Actually graduating from law school, writing long fic in another fandom, and generally percolating more as a person has given me lots of new perspectives on JA that make it more interesting even as I still enjoy it (for example, HBO's Succession is ODDLY RELEVANT and I wish there were more JA fanwriters to take advantage of that fact).

...I hope that was helpful? I will ETERNALLY mourn the fact that this fandom wasn't isn't bigger - we haven't even broken 1k on ao3! But EYE MYSELF am here to discuss JA stuff as long as this weird spurt of creative energy sustains me, and my inbox is always open!

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #325

I'm definitely going to need to send my laptop away to get the screen replaced; it has seen much better days:

It's still kinda holding together. But there are lines of dead pixels on the bottom left side, so I imagine it's only a matter of time before the screen goes completely kaput. Lame...

I wasn't nearly as productive today as on previous days. I think doing all that cooking and all those dishes really pissed off whatever's wrong with the upper right quadrant of my body (at this point, I suspect serratus posterior superior dysfunction of some kind...). When I went to PT today (weird day of the week for it, I know...), the trapezius and the rhomboids on my right side got mashed up, and now the whole area is super pissed, and it's kinda hard to move or breathe or do anything.

On the bright side, I did get to talk with that Canadian immigration lawyer today. I'll tell you all about him, but after I get his permission to do so in this space.

Still, I have the first few steps of the process of getting out of here outlined. First, we have to take an English test called an IELTS, and also get our academic credentials evaluated by a Canadian company of some kind, in order to make sure they're up to snuff for Canadian employers.

Well, as it turns out, we cannot take the IELTS without passports. And, though J and I have ours, M's expired over a decade ago, so we had to go to an appointment to get a new one. It's not going to get to our house for another 6-8 weeks, though. We'll have to wait before we schedule the test. But we should be able to get our academic credentials evaluated. I'll look into that process tomorrow.

...I forgot to eat for most of today. Before leaving for physical therapy, I did stuff a couple slices of cold cuts into my mouth, but that's hardly substantial. My appetite has been kinda weird these last couple days. At around 7pm or 8pm, though, I remembered that my body needs fuel. So I made a salad:

It's got mixed greens, tomatoes, onions, black beans, goat cheese, scrambled egg, and crushed Fritos in it. And then I put ranch dressing on top. Want some...?

I made some tea to go with it; that vanilla bean macaron tea. Here:

...These aren't the best swirls, I know. I think the focus must have been off, and I didn't notice until it was too late. Sorry about that.

…

...I spent most of the rest of today just floundering, partially numb, and foggy of brain. I wanted to play Oddworld, but... I just couldn't bring myself to. I wanted to doodle, but... I dunno. Even with a plan spelled out and things to tentatively look forward to, it's still kinda hard to think.

I guess I'm still a little sad that so many people voted for someone who wants to kill me and my little family and almost all of the people I love.

...I just... want to live a life in which everyone gets to be happy and safe. And I know that this could happen if everyone worked together, but there's so many different people with so many different kinds of trauma, and all of them have their own ideas about which kinds of people do and don't deserve to live (there's no such thing as a person who doesn't deserve to live). I wish for a world in which it was easier for folks to cast aside the conditioning they received that teaches them to associate the worth of themselves and of others with silly, arbitrary things.

We are all the same in that we want to live in peace with people we love. And given that everyone wants that, it shouldn't be so hard to do, but... a lot of people get taught that the only way they can live happily is if some other group of people defined by arbitrary characteristics didn't exist, and... I think that's really sad. It's really sad that some people truly do believe, for example, that the only way they can be happy and safe is if every single person with dark skin and every single person who was ever at any point related to someone with dark skin ceased being alive.

...I just wanna live someplace where we aren't near people who would be happy to kill us. I think everyone wants that. And this shouldn't be a difficult thing to find in my world, but... here we are.

...Well. One step at a time. We'll follow the immigration process one step at a time, and hope for good things. But... ya know. If there's any chance you can just “zoop” us all over to where you are... I certainly wouldn't be opposed. You could use the company. And I could use a nap.

No, I know; it's impossible. I know. But it's still nice to think about. I'll just keep making preparations to protect my little family, and I'll do whatever I can for the others around me in the meantime. I'll write the steps to the immigration process as we go through it; maybe it'll help someone else, somehow.

Suppose I'll stop writing for today. I feel like if I keep going, I'm gonna ramble on ya (if I haven't already). And I feel like I'm a bit too weird in the brain right now to express myself particularly well in any case.

Don't worry. I'm tired and feeling kinda sad and lost, but I'm not down for the count – not while I have people to protect.

Tomorrow is when M and I decided to celebrate our wedding anniversary this year. It'll be our 10th year of marriage, though we've been together for 12. I can't believe how quickly the time has passed. I can't believe he hasn't gotten tired of me yet, hahaha...

We're gonna go to a sushi place to celebrate. It'll be me and J and M all together at the place we ate on the day we got married. Maybe I'll tell you more about that tomorrow.

I love you a whole lot. And I'll write again tomorrow. So please stay safe out there, okay?

Your friend, Lumine

[dwarfsized]

author quastions

tagged by my beloved @aevallare i love you. mwah mwah mwah

When did you start writing?

I've been telling stories since forever. I have notebooks upon notebooks, going back to when my handwriting was illegibly terrible, with stories that were also. terrible. but baby leetle was trying. and bigger leetle is still trying.

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

I think i wouldn't want to try writing a pure sci-fi story? and i love reading those.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

uh maybe Mary Oliver, the poet? i come back to her work over and over again. I also love Tamsyn Muir's blend of absurdism and gut-punch. I'd be very happy if someone compared me to either, but I try to just be myself when I write.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I write in my living room on my laptop, curled up like a shrimp on the couch. this is bad for my back (and the rest of my body) but if i sat Correctly i think i'd die.

I also write on my phone Whenever and Wherever i have an idea.

What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?

:') go do stuff. read books and poetry, watch movies, take a walk, see your friends, go to a new grocery store, experience something. you can't pour from an empty pitcher, and you can't write when you have nothing in the tank. At least, *I* can't write.

If you just want to be putting words down every day, you can also try having multiple projects. This wont mean that any of them get finished. But you'll be able to pick and choose what you work on and possibly muster up creative zest for something on any given day if you have several irons in the fire.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

That you will change and you can't do anything about it. That you can't go back, not really. That everyone is working with their own information and biases and that fucks things up, even when they mean well.

The one that surprised me was "looking for a sense of belonging" because, hey. Can I stop putting that in stuff, please.

What is your reason for writing?

Because I have to. I have no other choice. The stories have to come out.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

All comments rule but there's something really special about ones that quote something from the fic that they liked in particular.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

"wow she's really a freak about this concept huh (affectionate)"

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

i think my internal monologue rules and i think about worldbuilding a lot

How do you feel about your own writing?

i like it. i can see the cracks but when i put something out there for people to read, ive really worked hard on it. I'm proud of the effort i put in.

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

mostly its about what i want to write, because i cant stay motivated otherwise, but things like troubled thoughts that are love letters to people (hi alex) are total joys. that was so fucking fun. cant wait to finish parts 2 and 3. :)

i tag @mutualcombat and @again-please and @lyzelky and @kittenintheden and @septemberskye sorry if you've been tagged already im in a con vortex rn

[moonlessmondays]

Sailing Close to the Wind|| One: Chasing Rainbows and Spinning Dreams

*takes a deep breath* *opens laptop* *blows ever so softly*

*coughs*

Hello everyone, I bet you didn't think I would ever come back to write more Downton stuff. Maybe an update from me isn't in your 2024 bingo card. Not gonna lie, I'm just as surprised as you are. I've been gone for far longer than I ever was here, but I guess, prodigal children always find their way home.

YES. This is an update. I know.

In light of the new movie announcement, I made a trip down memory lane, and was inspired by one of my old fics. Not that my writing from five years ago was ever inspiring, really. Anyway, it was supposed to be a one shot, and so I felt like I was in under no obligation to add more, but add more, I shall do.

*steadfastly ignores the 300 other cobert fanfics I am supposed to update*

To my surprise as well as yours, this one had an interesting and very polite demand for more, and honestly, if I wasn't so neck deep in law school, I would have given this a go earlier. Of course, I chose the most inopportune time -- when I'm in over my head, drowning, in bar review and prep -- to finish this piece. But whatever. It was therapeutic. I do suggest you read the prologue first, again -- here or here-- because I doubt any of you still remember this. This one's a long one that I just had to get out of my system, because studying about my country's system is the equivalent of pouring bleach all over my brain.

I would like to say as early as now however, that as I have already mentioned earlier, I am in the middle of bar prep, so the updates are probably going to be few and far in between, if at all, towards the middle of this year. Not that it's anything new where I'm concerned. But I shall endeavor to finish before the end of year or the end of the world, at least, whichever comes first.

.::.

One

Chasing rainbows and Spinning Dreams

"Can it possibly beThe future for me is you…Wait until I can tell you all my schemesChasing rainbows spinning dreamsTell me please your name”  - Tell me your name, Jose Mari Chan

The silence in the room was so loud that one could hear a pin drop – as the old adage went, anyway, – and for one brief second, Cora found herself questioning if her boss was all right in the head. Maybe she had lost her mind after all the stress and was now clinically insane. 

That, after all, was the only logical explanation to her even remotely suggesting this.

Cora looked away from her boss, wondering what she should do or say next, when her gaze met the eyes of the man on the other side of the room. Robert, that’s what Rosamund said, but Cora already knew that. There was nary a soul in this entire company who didn’t. He rarely made any appearance, but he’s never missed one company party and his name was always on everybody’s lips. 

Cora could still – though she would never say it out loud or admit it – remember the first time she had seen the esteemed Mr. Robert Crawley. It had been during her first company Christmas party. She was new, a new hire fresh from her internship, and she’d been so young and so infatuated by the piercing blue eyes that barely looked her way even once in the party. He’d been caught up, talking to the big wigs, to his sister, and their other colleagues and didn’t have time for the little Miss Americana that was Cora. Not that Cora had minded very much, she was content with sipping her wine and admiring Mr. Crawley from afar. 

He was handsome and his laugh was loud and boisterous, although hardly offensive. He spoke to Mr. Carson and his wife, Mrs. Elsie Hughes-Carson, who both worked with them at the company, like they were old friends – with respect and authority, but with clear affection. Cora could have only hoped, at that time, to be treated the same.

Now, here she was, sitting in the office of her boss, having been just told that she should marry the CEO of the company she’s working for so she can stay in London. She felt like she needed more ruminating about the “brilliant idea” of the boss in question, but she figured there wasn’t really even enough time to ruminate that. It was insane. That, in her mind, should count as a red flag right? That her boss was insane?

“Well?” Rosamund started to speak, though she looked just a little bit nervous, or anxious, or maybe it was self-realization – Cora could only hope for the last. “It’s such an unmusical way of putting things, brother.” She cleared her throat and nodded anyway. Clearly, any hopes of sanity were dashed at this point. “I was suggesting a convenient marriage with a deadline…if you’re amenable, of course.”

More here or here.

[linipik]

FAR OUT AT SEA

"Shiro is determined to know if the new human research base is a risk for his fellow merfolk with the help of a marine biologist and research intern Adam."

rating: T

pairing: Adam/Shiro

tags: Adam (Voltron) Shiro (Voltron), Keith for half a line but he is there, Merman Shiro, Everyone lives, First Meetings, plot-driven action, Alternate Universe Merpeople, Canon-Typical Violence

This fic is part of the Once Upon the Seashore PDF (get it for free on my Ko-fi)

Chapter 2 of 4

Previous Chapter

Although Shiro was so sure he had not given anything away during their conversations, Adam was observant enough to notice Shiro asked too many questions about things he should already know, given the information shared in the application process. He was convinced Shiro was plotting something off protocol, maybe something against the superior officers, even, yet he just couldn't bring himself to openly confront him or become a snitch. He could not imagine “Takashi” would do anything harmful, after all; he was a bit impulsive maybe one of those diehard conservationists with their head way out of the bureaucracy of laboratories and Adam couldn’t blame that passion, but the Shiro he met wouldn't purposefully hinder the ongoing research or hurt anybody. After some thought, Adam decided to keep quiet and figure out Shiro’s intentions bit by bit.

He didn’t have to wait much. Shiro confessed that he suspected there were undercover operations going on at the deepest levels of the base, which used the excuse of oceanographic research to do something else, maybe weapon development or oil exploration. Adam wouldn’t say Shiro’s suspicions were too unfounded and he never signed up for something like that, And when Shiro asked Adam's help to infiltrate that area in order to confirm such suspicions, to which Adam, agreed with no hesitation.

That was how it started or ended. The challenge was demanding and exciting at first, but once they went over all the unsupervised laptops and offices left without keys, they realized there was a wall.

The juiciest stuff was locked under top-quality security systems and the best equipment, as two mere interns, there was nothing they could do.

Despite the overwhelming evidence of their defeat, Shiro was adamant about finding a way to bypass the security measures as soon as possible. Choosing his words carefully, Adam tried to talk him out of it. He told Shiro that, although he was completely right in that breaking into grade A military secret files was the responsible thing to do, right at the moment they were at a disadvantage. They would fare better by ascending first, they needed more time and a real plan to uncover in any meaningful way what was going on, they were also in a position of power that allowed them to make sure this clarence problems on the research they were supposed to work didn’t happen. He asked Shiro for patience.

– o –

It was another afternoon in the cafeteria after another dead end looking for the relevant classified data.

 “Whatever they are doing, it has not caused noticeable damage so far, so they must be calculating it carefully,” Adam insisted, “it would not be convenient for them to just destroy a whole ecosystem in a day or something.”

“Yeah, I guess” Shiro replied, unable to hide his scowl, The same exploitative human practices that have always worried him, that keep merfolk hidden, “They think they have the right to do anything they want with what they find just because it’s unexplored for them, it’s not fair” 

There they were again, the same stubborn passion, the same edge in his words that set Shiro way apart from others to Adam, like there was something bigger out there.

“I totally get you, but we gotta play our cards right. What if they get us trying to hack the security system and they kick us off or send us to jail? In that case, we are not ever going to figure out anything.” Adam’s tone was calculated and yes, he was reasonable.

Shiro took a moment to think, averting his gaze toward the window. The skies outside looked gloomy. There was no storm alert, but they would probably have rain later.

“I guess you are right.” 

Adam wanted to say something more, maybe suggest they do something different for a change, let go of the stress of the last few days with like… a date? But before he could gather the courage to ask, Shiro nodded with a tired smile and disappeared down the corridor toward his room.

Righ. He most likely wanted to recover some sleep. The date idea would have to wait.

– o –

Shiro, however, didn't have “rest” or “sleep” anywhere in his mind. His duty was first to discover if merfolk were in any danger and he couldn’t clear his suspicions in a human way, not with Adam by his side.  After gathering some tools, he sneaked out of his room and left the residential area, careful to no bring attention to himself on his way to the deck. He knew Adam would disapprove… or worry if he went looking for Shiro and didn't find him in his room. He felt as if he was betraying the unspoken thing they had going on. That thought almost made him turn back. Almost.

Once he considered he was far enough in the loading docks and thus safe from onlookers and obscured away from the security cameras, Shiro silently jump in the water and was again a merman, now underwater he felt more clarity than the days before. He had postponed his mission enough. No matter what kind of mission the military was running undercover, they could not be anything good and it was Shiro's duty to stop them for his people. After all, he was one of the few who ventured far into human territory and he knew how terrifying they could be. 

Stealthily swimming back to the base, Shiro snuck through one of the underwater gates and began destroying all the underwater equipment and submarines he could find. That should get the officers distracted so he could have the time to finally get to the deeper levels and deal with whatever they are really doing there.

----

Far Out at Sea is complete on PDF >> GET IT HERE <<

[okskz]

Break.

elsy + chan

chan and elsy hit a point in their relationship that they never imagined, causing them to start having conflict.

this is part 1 of this elsy series. not too sure how many parts I’ll have but in the mean time just enjoy :) please feel free to leave feedback because it is always appreciated!

[8th member of got7/soloist]

elsy stood eagerly in the elevator as she waited for it to get on the floor chan’s dorm was in. it had been awhile since the two had seen each other, chan being busy with his schedule and traveling all over. but now, chan had a bit of free time to spend with the girl.

elsy had took a break from music after leaving her company. she left mainly at the fact she wasn’t given the proper support as she had in the beginning. she hadn’t been able to release new music and her only option was to leave. elsy felt as if she was letting her career go to waste if she continued to stay.

elsy was now walking fast and she was almost to chan’s dorm but before she could make it, chan was already walking out. “bang chan!” she exclaimed, smiling brightly at him. chan turned to her direction and instantly smiled when seeing elsy. the girl jumped on chan, wrapping her legs around his waist. “elsy! my love.” elsy hugged chan tighter, not saying a word. she missed being around him and it felt nice having him right in front of her.

chan put elsy down, the two going in for a kiss. “I’ve missed you so much.” she said, kissing him again. “it’s so nice to finally spend time with you.”

chan giggled, kissing elsy on the forehead. “I’ve missed you way more.”

“how are you doing?”

“great.” chan answered. “very tired of doing these schedules though. but it’s all worth it.” he smiled. “and you? what have you been up to?”

elsy sighed, “nothing if I’m being honest.” she answered. “I‘ve mostly been home. and also been hanging with yugyeom.”

“no new music?”

elsy shook her head. “as of right now, no.” the girl sighed again. chan gave her a reassuring smile. he knew she wanted to make music and perform again, and he knew how unfairly she was getting treated. “it’ll be okay, els.” chan said, giving her forehead another kiss.

“enough about this.” elsy clapped. “what do you feel like doing? we can go out to eat, maybe catch a movie, go shopping. you name it. I just want to spend time with you.” she smiled, wrapping her arms around chan’s neck.

“I’d love to do any of that stuff with you, els. but I have to work on new music. care to join me?” chan smiled.

elsy felt her smile drop. “you have to work on new music already?” she asked. “don’t you want a little break?”

“I can never take a break on music, els.” chan chuckled. “I enjoy it too much.”

elsy sighed. “you’ve been sighing a lot.” chan pointed out. “it’s okay if you don’t want to join me, els.”

“I haven’t seen you in awhile, of course I want to join you. but I was thinking we do other things besides being in the studio.”

elsy has always supported chan with everything he did, from work and just the person he is. she was always in the studio with him when he’s by himself and it’s late at night. she was always there for him. but recently, she felt like that’s all they ever do now. she wanted to do other things besides sitting in a studio all day or night.

elsy never said anything though, knowing how dedicated chan was to his work. but she knew she had to at least tell him how she felt.

and after spending almost all day there with him, elsy was growing a bit inpatient. “bang chan.” elsy said. the boy was too focused on his laptop to even pay attention. “bang chan.” she said again. still no answer. elsy sighed, walking over to him from the couch. “christopher.” he shook his shoulder finally getting his attention.

“w-what.” he said startled. “something wrong, els?”

“no. not exactly.”

“hm?”

elsy closed her eyes for a second, gathering her thoughts before talking again. “it’s just, we’ve been here all day. don’t you think we can do something else?”

“but I’m not done-“

“I know you’re not done, chan, but we can’t just always hang around in the studio. I don’t mind doing it once in awhile but all the time? you just have me here and we don’t do much.”

chan sat there, blank expression on his face. he wasn’t understanding. and that made elsy a bit ticked off with him. she missed the times where they would actually go out, not just sitting around while chan worked. “look, I’ll just go-“

“no!” chan shouted, startling the girl. “we can do something after I’m finished.”

“bang chan, we’ve been here for hours, let’s go out right now. you can save the work for later.” elsy said. she checked the time, seeing it was night time already. meaning she had wasted an afternoon.

“okay, at least let me finish-“

elsy shook her head. “no, chan.” this time she sounded stern. and chan took notice of her voice changing, staring back at elsy. “what’s wrong? you’re never like this, you’ve never had a problem being here with me-“

“because I keep it all to myself to not make you upset.” elsy cut in.

chan was taken back from elsy’s outburst. the girl could see how slightly upset how her boyfriend got. “what are you saying?”

elsy closed her eyes, sighing heavily as she opened her eyes. “what I’m saying is, I’m tired of being in the studio with you chan.” elsy answered. “this is all we do now, and I’m getting tired of it. I want to do more than just this. I enjoyed it the first couple of times but I don’t want to do this all the time.”

“but elsy, it’s my job.”

“I know it’s your job! but for once can you put your job to the side and put me first? you’re either away traveling or preparing for something. and the times you finally have some free time you just want to do this, chan.” elsy said, she stared into chan’s eyes intensely. “when’s the last time we’ve been on a date?”

chan was silent.

and that made elsy let out a small laugh of frustration. “wow, you can’t even name the last time we’ve had a date.” elsy could feel tears wanting to come down her eyes but she held them back as much as she could.

“I just care for my job elsy.”

“yeah, a little too much.”

“you just don’t understand.” chan said. elsy raised an eyebrow. “what do you mean I don’t understand?”

chan was silent again, eyeing everything but elsy. he knew she was staring at him, wanting an explanation of what he meant. and chan let the words slip out of his mouth. “you don’t understand because you haven’t been doing anything.”

elsy furrowed her brows. “what?” she said. “did I just hear you correctly?” it felt like a slap in the face for elsy, she knew chan knew her situation on why she wasn’t working.

“no, that’s not what I meant, that came out wrong-“

“so what exactly did you mean, bang chan?!”

chan could see the hurt in elsy’s eyes. but chan just couldn’t back himself up. he stood there, hesitating which only hurt elsy more. “please, elsy. I don’t need this right now.”

“oh poor you bang chan.” elsy shook her head in disbelief. “I’m so sorry I just want to spend time with my boyfriend. but I guess you’re not on the same page since all you care about is your job.” elsy knew how much chan put effort into his work, and she didn’t want to sound selfish. but she missed chan. she missed how things were.

“I’m sorry too elsy, but I just can’t have distractions right now.”

“oh my god?!” elsy exclaimed. “so now I’m a distraction?” tears began to fall down elsy’s face. “I can’t believe you right now.”

chan realized he screwed up more as he was mentally face palming himself. “no, no-“

“I don’t want to hear it.” elsy grabbed her purse and keys to get away from chan.

“elsy, come back please.” chan grabbed her wrist but elsy shook him away. “let’s talk this out.”

“no! you said what you said bang chan.” elsy snapped. “I’m leaving since you don’t want any distractions. have a nice night.” elsy slammed the door shut, leaving chan inside the studio alone.

and he was pissed and frustrated, more at himself for not thinking everything he said through. because now he hurt elsy, and hurting elsy was something he never wanted to do now that he was in a relationship with her.

elsy on the other hand, went inside her car crying her eyes out. her and chan never really argued in their relationship so this was a first one. she didn’t know what to do.

she was confused and hurt. how did her wanting to spend time with chan and letting him now end up to this?

[gottalovetumbler]

Small info dump!

Just wanted to assure everyone waiting for a new/second chapter to some works of mine. I promise I haven’t given up on them, I just don’t have any ideas yet!!

I’m not kidding when I say I post stuff immediately. I typically get an idea for a Drabble/fic and then write said idea within 24hrs. It’ll take me 1-3hours to write said thing and then after a very very quick and not through look for spelling errors, I post it.

So I can 100% promise that when I get an idea it’ll be essentially immediately posted. For example, Does he even love you? Was thought of, written and posted within 2 hours. So I promise I’m wanting to continue everything, I just gotta wait for the ideas.

Also I’m still fighting my damn phone and the fact that I can’t link anything so when I get off my ass and open my laptop that’s 2 feet away from me, I’ll update the lists!

That’s all! Have a good night/day!

[jamiesfootball]

You need a distraction while waiting for a laptop charger and I need a distraction while dealing with some crap on my end, so this is a match made in heaven. ;) For the ask game: 👻❤️, please and thank you!

👻Is there a scene that you find intimidating that you have yet to write?

All of them.

There is a bit in oh god, you're gonna get it (you have not been given love) where Roy and Jamie tip toe around to talking about when Roy offered to train Jamie and then smacked the fork out of his hand. That is not the point of the scene, but it feeds into a larger theme that Roy has been wrestling with, and it ends up being a bit of an eye-opener for both of them. For Roy, it's finding a new perspective on how to approach a problem. For Jamie, it's the somewhat overwhelming realization that sometimes people who care for you will actually listen to your problems and then try to help make that problem easier on you by changing something they do.

💗Is there a scene you can’t wait to write for a WIP?

Also all of them.

There is a chapter in the middle of oh god, you're gonna get it (you have not been given love) that bounces back and forth between when Roy started training Jamie and where they are now. One of those scenes is a sort of sped-up montage of Roy learning how to train Jamie, testing out what works and what doesn't, learning what type of athlete Jamie is from a training perspective. It is actually a super fun set of scenes with a lot of humor built in. The chapter as a whole acts as a sort of intermission, giving us a chance to breathe and relax before things get emotionally devastating again.

While the training is happening, Roy is also subconsciously beginning to look back at his own upbringing through the academy, and how he learned all of this stuff, and how it felt bearing the brunt of his coach's high expectations of him growing up. He finds himself making small adjustments along the way as he learns how to make Jamie better without giving him any of Roy's issues to go along with it. Because Jamie isn't Roy, and Roy doesn't want him to be either.

[red-ropes-of-avalon]

Chapter 2- Girl of the Snowfield

Series Summary: You’re a sophomore Forensic Science student in Teyvat University. Ayato is a Junior Business major at the same school. You never knew one of your best friends had a brother until you happen upon each other. You end up bringing the best out in each other.

Chapter Summary: Ayato is desperate to find out who the stranger who smiled at him without a care is. The girls get an emergency switch placed into their vacancy with no guarantee of their safety with this new room addition.

Content Warnings: A little talk of violence but nothing graphic.

prev | masterlist | next

Ayato sat at the desk in his room, phone face down, closed eyes, remembering the face and more importantly the smile. He could only hope for another chance encounter, or he would find a reason to visit Ayaka's dorm. He didn't expect the very next day to present an opportunity to see you again.

"Don't you love not getting any information about this" Mobius seethed as she sat on her desk, twirling her pencil in her fingers. You sat on your own desk laptop in hand, homework pulled up in the main tab- it was Friday after all and the work of a STEM major never ended. Ayaka sat on the couch, prim and proper scanning over all the information she could get. A knock on the door, had you sliding off your desk to open it. Outside stood the building director, Faruzan, "Hi girls, are all of you here?"

"Actually no, Yoimiya Nagonhara, my roommate isn't here," Ayaka spoke up. "Well that's unfortunate, but given it's an emergency situation, we can't wait for all of you to be here." Mobius and you exchanged a worried glance. "She's in my office currently and will be up shortly to see the room and begin moving in." The three of you made a noise of affirmation. As Faruzan closed the door, you moved to the couch, Ayaka opening her arms to allow you into her arms. "We won't let anything happen to you ever again," Mobius hissed out from her spot, perched to watch the door. After a short wait, a knock was heard again, Faruzan entered the room followed by an average-height girl, her hair was curly, and she looked utterly uninterested in the three of you. Instead, she was eyeing the room, assessing the space.

"If you wouldn't mind, could you show us around the room? It should be ready, as is expected according to the dorm rules. After all, vacancies can be filled at any time." Mobius pursed her lips before pushing off the desk, you following and standing up. "We'll start with the actual room and bathroom." Faruzan guided. Mobius and you easily slipped into the room, with Kyoka following. "So these are our beds, you'd get the vacant one obviously," Mobius spoke matching Kyoka's boredom. Mobius and you had beds parallel to each other, your walls starkly different in decoration. You had vines with flowers and butterflies, while Mobius had neon LED lights, you two had agreed to do contrasting decor as a joke. "There's also only enough space for two people in the closet and we kinda already take it up. Sorry about that. Also, our bedroom door doesn't have a lock inside just as a warning," you added sheepishly. Kyoka furrowed her brows but said nothing.

"The bathroom is pretty simple, the two of us shower at night. Our towels are in here. And our bath stuff is on the top level of the bath shelves, we're the lucky ones to have a bathtub. The other bathroom doesn't." You explained the bathroom situation nervously, opening the door to show it off. Faruzan seemed content with what she had seen, "I'll call you after I have the key for you. Then you can start moving in."

Ayaka stood up as you showed off the kitchen. "We all have our own cupboards, we keep our stuff in our specific ones," Ayaka said before pointing out each person's specific cabinet. "Obviously the fridge is communal, but we don't eat each other's food," she further explained. Kyoka still looked uninterested, you silently made a move to hold onto Ayaka's hand for comfort. "I have to finish packing for a trip I leave for this afternoon, I'll leave you to get acquainted with the room." Mobius left silently returning to the room.

Ayaka politely excused herself, returning to her room, likely to text Yoimiya about how it was going. Now alone, Kyoka's gaze rested upon you a predatory look in her eyes. Her gaze ran across your body before she licked her lips, and you stepped back slightly.

It was going to be a long night for you.

Author Notes: I'm sorry that isn't getting into the romance, gotta set up the conflict. Trust me I got a plan. Next chapter is when it's gonna start getting into the romance. Also, gold star if you get the naming scheme of the chapters.

[aoibhinnslater04]

SOC x ACOTAR

Chapter 2: Who needs enemies?

Chapter 3 out 8th January

I don't think Kaz is planning on not retaliating... the real question should how does a teenager beat a 500 year old Fae?

word count: 1135

Trigger warnings: mention of trauma, kidnapping, injuries

Jesper groaned as he saw the text from Inej to tell him about the early start the next morning. It was still only 10pm, but Jesper had big plans of just drinking and gambling all of his hard earned kruge away before dawn. The man sitting beside him chuckled softly. He wasn’t someone who Jesper recognised, which was odd considering he knew almost everyone at the Crow Club at this stage. He was tall and muscular, like Matthias, but where Matthias was all orderly and fair, this guy was chaos and dark, his black hair long with a bun to keep the ends out of his face. He had a wicked glint in his laughing eyes, and Jesper liked him immediately.

“Let me guess,” the stranger said, tilting his head towards him, “someone called out sick from work and now you have to cover the 5am shift?” Jesper groaned, putting his head in his hands to cover his smile. “You have no idea how close to being right you are,” he responded, laughing. “There goes my plans for tonight.” 

The stranger reached out a hand towards him. It reminded Jesper of Inej’s hand, tough, with calluses formed below his fingers. He was a fighter too. “I’m Cassian,” the stranger told him, his eyes bright.”You don’t have to go just yet, do you?”

~~~~~

Cassian groaned as he finally was able to haul himself up to bed. He had had fun with Jesper alright, but he was almost disgusted with himself for manipulating him. Az was better at stuff like that, he was good at asking the right answers without getting attached. Cassian always made it personal. He hated himself a little for it. The cheery sharpshooter had opened up to him over the night, and he heard about how Kaz Brekker was looking for information on whoever had attacked him. His Wraith was going hunting the next morning, and she had asked Jesper to watch her back. But now Cassian knew….

“Any luck?” Cassian jumped at the sudden deep voice behind him, and turned to find Rhysand there, Mor following anxiously behind. She didn’t like all this sitting and waiting, but until someone attempted to break into their files, she couldn’t help.Her job was yet to come. Cassian sighed, and told Rhys everything.

~~~~~

Inej whistled softly, a gentle noise that was met with a responding whistle. So far so good. She was at the window ledge of Vassa, the local realtor. If anyone had any information on the new gang, it would be her. Vassa had a computer with files on everyone in Ketterdam, and a lot of the rest of Ravkian too. It had been easy getting past the security, and although the wall between Vassa’s house and the guards was high, Jesper was tall enough that Inej only had to climb onto his shoulders  to reach the top. Honestly, she was a bit disappointed, given Vassa’s reputation, but better too easy than too hard, she reckoned. 

She hacked quickly to unlock the laptop and was rewarded when the screen lit up. She quickly started scrolling through files labelled ‘Rhysand’. Saints. This man was the leader of a TOP gang. He was a real threat, then. But why had he come here, of all places? Why start at the bottom of the Barrel instead of staying where he was a king? She kept scrolling, until…Saints. Her eyes widened. Here was a weakness, but she wasn’t sure she would even be able to tell Kaz. Because Rhysand…had a family. He had people worth protecting. He wasn’t going to try to make peace with Kaz, because it would make him look weak. No, he needed to be in control.

Inej started to tread back towards the window, her thoughts whirring. It was probably because of this that a hidden man managed to sneak up on her, and grab her from behind. Her reflexes kicked in quickly, and she shoved a knife into his side. She was rewarded when he let her go with a small grunt, and she rolled away from him quickly, turning to face him. But then there was another at her side, and another facing her. Three of the most beautiful men she had ever seen. Beautiful, but terrifying. 

And then suddenly, she was no longer in control of her own mind. The violet eyes of the man in the middle flashed, and her limbs moved of their own accord, calling her like a siren towards them. Inej fought with all her might, but she had never had to fight someone like that. All of her worst memories were flooding through her, and she was sobbing as she collapsed onto the ground in front of them. The violet eyed male -Rhysand- crouched down in front of her, and gently tilted her head up towards him, to meet his gaze. The strange sense of not being in control of her own body was gone, but it was like she was hypnotised still, his eyes telling her she could relax, she was safe. And when the man with the hazel, kind eyes knelt beside her, and pressed something with an overpowering scent over her mouth and nose, Inej was almost relieved to fall back, limp, against him as she shut her eyes and breathed in.

~~~~~

Jesper was pacing back and forth now, his head imagining all the worst case scenarios that could have happened to Inej. It didn’t usually take her this long to find information and leave, something must have gone wrong. He turned to the wall and jumped, grabbing the small ledge that Inej had climbed earlier, and hauled himself up, before squeezing through the small window in front of him.

His breathing quickened as he saw what was in front of him; three men standing over an unconscious Inej. He knew he couldn’t fire his gun, knew it was stupid, he was crazy, the guards would hear and all their carefully laid out plans would fall apart, but he aimed at the nearest one to Inej and fired anyway. The man turned towards him with a cry, his hand coming off the wound covered in blood, and to Jesper’s dismay, he recognised the face. Cassian! Oh saints, this was all his fault, Inej- 

And then suddenly it was as if he couldn’t think, an unfamiliar voice in his head, taking control. And the small cloth he had seen over Inej’s mouth was then over his, and as he faded into unconsciousness, all he could think about was how he failed her.

~~~~~

Rhys stared at the two unconscious bodies at his feet. They were hardly more than kids. They didn’t deserve this. And then he cursed himself because, no, he was getting soft, they were a part of another gang, they were dangerous too- but he couldn’t help but feel slightly ashamed of himself anyway. He turned towards Azriel. “Go down to the crow club and see if Brekker does anything. And blend in!” Az nodded and leapt out the window, as stealthy as the girl who had snuck in. Rhys had to admit, he was impressed with her. He had set up cameras in every realtor office in town, and she found the correct office the first time. Not to mention it was pure chance he had seen her! The livefeed streaming back from the cameras didn’t even detect motion from her. And she fought well. Unfortunately, Rhys wasn’t interested in fighting fair today. And gods, what she had been through-

And then the other boy, Jesper. He came in, guns blazing, even though he was outnumbered and out-weaponed. He would’ve done anything he could’ve to protect the Wraith. Luckily, Cassian’s bulletwound was already healing, thanks to the lack of faebane. Rhys turned to Cassian, then, and told him to grab the boy. Rhys collected the girl gently in his arms, turned to Cassian, and winnowed them away, just as Vassa’s guards burst through the door.

[sparklylovegiver]

Original writing

So I am gonna start posting my original writing here. This story doesn't really have a name, but the vibe is 'college kids doing college shit', so if you like college AUs maybe this will be your cup of tea. All the characters are mine and this is really my first attempt to find any sort of audience for my own stuff instead of fanfiction so please be nice. That being said, say Hello to Ivy and Brad.

She was already annoyed when she sat down. It had been a long night, her anxiety for the new semester kept Ivy up far later then she wanted.. She pulled her project from her bag, knitting needles clicking away as she waited for class to begin. She glanced up occasionally, taking stock of the others coming into the class when she saw him. The guy was at least as tall as her, not something she saw very often, his blonde hair tucked under the backwards red baseball cap as he spoke intently to the old teacher. As he finished talking to the professor he turned to the room, eyes scanning as if he was taking his own inventory of the class. As he scanned his gaze found her and he stopped, head cocked slightly he almost looked amused. Ivy looked back down at the knitting in her hands, the hair on the back of her neck standing. She stole a glance back up, seeing his approach, and she sat up, her shoulders a little more square, her back a little straighter, her face a carefully trained uninterested as she heard his footsteps continue closer. He didn't sit next to her, instead sliding into the row in front of her, a few seats from the end. He was close enough for her to get a better look, Ivy's eyes being pulled back to him again. The guy had no bag in sight, his feet propped up on his desk as he leaned back, one of those toy spinners in his hands. He was close enough for her to see his jaw shift, chewing some kind of gum, and see white letters across the front of the cap. At a glance she huffed, of course he had picked sitting right in front of her. This kinda guy was the bane of her existence. The teacher began talking, introducing himself and running through attendance, before beginning the expectations of the class and a brief breakdown of the syllabus. Ivy had glanced at it, only half listening at the teacher explained his plans for the class. 

"-and we'll spend probably a week covering the work of Immanuel Kant and transcendental idealism before moving on-" 

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Ivy muttered to herself, stopping her knitting to sigh, "Fuck Kant." As she sat back she heard the guy stifle a laugh and she bit her tongue. 'Just don't engage,' she reminded herself, stealing another glance at him. He had pulled out one of those little cubes, the ones with buttons and switches on each side, but otherwise the teacher seemed to have his attention. Ivy could make out the words on his hat and she paused. 'Make America Skate Again' it read, and she wanted to chuckle. It could have been satire, making fun of the original red caps, or it could be a double back, satire of the satire, it was hard to tell with those kinda guys. She kept one eye on him as class continued, but he didn't turn around, the class taking his full attention. She began to wonder if maybe she had imagined the look he had given her before class, or the chuckle at her comment. When the class was dismissed, Ivy was carefully packing up her knitting when she heard it. 

"Hey," she turned, the voice belonging to the guy in front of her, "what would you say if I asked to buy you a coffee?" He asked, a mischievous grin wide and her heart sank. She had seen grins like that before, right as guys like this pulled the rug from under her feet. It was her own fault, cocky fuck boys had always been her weakness. 

Ivy scoffed, "I'd say 'I've heard this joke before, and I'm not interested in being a punchline again,'" she replied cooly, sliding her laptop into her bag before pivoting, walking out before he had a chance to respond. Her eyes stung but she bit the inside of her cheek. She had been dumb to think, even for a second, he might be different, especially before he spoke, and she was even more dumb to be disappointed. She shouldn't have been surprised, after all, 'asking the trans girl on a date only to stand her up' was a punchline she had felt more than once.

****

Brad was already forming a new plan when she walked away. Ivy. He had been paying attention during attendance, waiting to hear the name she would respond to so he could add it to what he knew. Her aesthetic had been enough to catch his attention, shoulder length dark hair, half pinned up, dark makeup to match. As he had gotten closer he could see her dark aesthetic stretched to her clothes, a knee length skirt, tights, tall boots, along with a band tee-shirt he only vaguely recognized, but what really caught him was the knitting. Whatever the girl was making was bright pink and his curiosity drew him closer. Brad didn't miss the way she tensed seeing him approach, sliding into the row in front of her, rather than next to her. Everything about her body language screaming Do not approach and a tiny part of him felt guilty. He hated the prospect of making any girl uncomfortable, but the bright pink project had caught him and his curiosity wouldn't leave him be. He focused on the teacher, trying to put names to the faces of his classmates and making mental notes over the syllabus when he heard her. 

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He heard her mutter, the clicking of her knitting needles stopping as she huffed, "fuck Kant." Brad stifled a laugh and he could feel her eyes, as if daring him to say something. He fought the urge to turn to her, deciding the first day of class was probably a bad time to start an in depth discussion, but he needed to know more. His attention was divided after that, half listening to the teacher, half waiting for her to say something else. She was quiet the rest of class, the constant clicking of her knitting needles becoming like white noise. He could feel her looking at him and he resisted the urge to turn around. Maybe it was all in his head, but it felt like a test; could he leave her alone, despite his own desire to know more? It was as they packed up, the girl tucking her project into her bag, that his interest won. 

"Hey," she turned, an eyebrow raised as she looked unimpressed. Her expression only stoked him, his grin wide as his heart sped up ,"what would you say if I asked to buy you a coffee?" 

She scoffed, her voice like cold water, "I'd say 'I've heard this joke before, and I'm not interested in being a punchline again'," she replied, walking out before he could say anything.

[pbandjesse]

We are driving back home. The memorial service was thankfully more about supporting each other. I did not cry. If I think about it to hard I might. But I made it through a day that could have been a disaster but worked out because I made it happen. Im only a little proud of that.

I did not sleep great. I fell asleep easier then expected. But woke up with James's alarm and I couldn't fall back asleep. I was anxious about the day. I would get up at 7 when my brother texted me and I had to ask James to handle that while I got ready.

I would feel alright. A little absent of myself. Like I look in the mirror and I'm not connecting to my own eyes. That happens sometimes. But I tried to look good and was happy with my face and hair. The trim I gave myself last night I think helped.

James changed our sheets while I finished getting myself together. Then we hugged and I was off.

I forgot to bring any breakfast and I didn't want to stop anywhere. I also forgot the keys to the art building. But I was not interested in going inside. So I just didn't. I would make it work when I got to camp.

It was a nice drive. And I got there right before 8. And I got to be helpful right away because there was a guy at the bottom of the hill who was lost.

He was there to reseed the field but it was literally his third day and he was a little confused and wasn't given enough info. So I'm glad I was able to help. Once I got parked at the art building I walked down to the office and got Heather on the phone and she told me to send him to the feild. And I was able to help him figure out how to get his truck over there. We walked the feild together and I opened the fence.

While I waited for him to drive around I went to see if we had cake left in the freezer. Which we did so I was excited for breakfast cake. And then I called the doctor's.

They were really nice about it and changed my appointment to 1. So I could stay at camp until 1230. They were really chill about it. Which would be surprising later when I found out that everyone who normally comes on Monday came today because of the holiday (including me) and so they had twice as many patients as normal. And we're training two new injection people. So it was quite a day and I appreciate how kind they were getting my appointment changed.

I would help lawn guy move all the astroturf and collected any sports equipment I could find. And let him know I would be on the porch if he needed anything.

I went down to the office and set myself up at the table. I used my phone's hotspot since I couldn't get on the wifi with the door locked. But that's fine. I ate my, still mostly frozen, cake and worked on my laptop.

I finished tightening up a few things in my lesson plans and making sure the supply list was good to go. I would start making a list of where the tribes were speaking about are on the continent so I could circle that on the different maps. So each program will have a visual for where they are speaking about. Which I think will help them figure out what different natural resources would be available.

Heather would show up around then. She said we need to get me an office key. I'm not to worried about it. I will probably be more worried when it's cold out. Though I was really sweaty and was happy to get some AC.

Heather would help me get on the wifi and showed me how to scan things to my laptop. And then would spend the next hour working on my maps.

Lou, Alexi's dad, would come to talk to Heather about horses. Continues to forget who I am but remembered James. Handsome Jimmy as he call them. We talked about his granddaughter who is maybe going to Temple. For field hockey. So I got to talk about the nice things about philly. That was fun.

I would take a walk to the art building with the extra key. I put away the stuff I brought. And then took a walk to the nature center but it was locked. Heather likes my idea about the snail tank but we need to find the key to the building. Joe probably had it but he wasn't around. Maybe tomorrow I'll figure that out.

Heather would have me start collecting some emails. Which was not as straight forward as I was expecting. But I got some at least. And once I was at a good stopping point me and Heather went on a walk to woodlands.

We would write a list of things that I could work on down there. Painting. Creating. Cleaning. Moving furniture. It was nice to talk through the projects and the spaces. I'm pretty happy about it. But I was also starting to get slightly a little stressed about needing to leave for my appointment.

We would finish up exactly on time though. We got back to the office. Where Elizabeth and Alexi were and I said hello and then goodbye!

I stopped to fill my water and then I drove the 40 minutes to the rhumatologist. I got there 1 minute before my appointment.

Not that it mattered. They had my paperwork at the bottom of the pile, because I'm the last one usually. And they would get me back quick. But I could hear everything. And that's when I heard that they were crazy busy and backed up. So I would have a wait. About 49 minutes. Ah well.

The nice lady came and did my injections though and they hurt a bit today. But it's fine. I was glad it was done. I made my appointment for next month. And was out the door before 2.

I stopped over at the Dunkin and got munchkins to share with James. And then home.

When I got back to the house I was excited that there were packages. The screen protector came for my tablet. And a new dress I ordered. And a book. I found James trying to iron their shirt but the iron wasn't actually on so that was funny.

I got overheated trying to put the screen protector on. But I did my best and it's mostly correct. I'm just glad it's safer now. I was super sweaty though.

So I took a shower. And got dressed again. James made me a bagel. And I had an hour to just sit and calm down before we had to be on the road again.

We left at 345. And it wasn't a bad drive at all. We didn't have to deal with any traffic. We weren't driving directly into the sun. I was anxious but only a little. I brought my knitting and completed one square. We passed Jess's exit and we waved. We arrived in the town at 530.

We went to Wawa for gas. James felt weird that someone pumped our gas. But that's just jersey. And then we went inside and got sandwiches to eat in the car.

I was mostly just focusing on being with my husband. And that I was looking forward to hugging my family. I couldn't handle the other emotions. Those are very deep and I can't focus on them or I'll fall apart.

When we got to the funeral home I was convinced we were in the wrong place. There were a lot of people and I didn't recognize anyone so I was sure I messed up. And then my mom and my brother weren't answering me so I was sure I messed up.

But thankfully Steve would pull up and my parents and Felicia were with him. Everything was alright again.

And it was a lot of people. Sabrina's friends. Audrey's friends. AA people. Bikers. People in memorial sweatshirts. Which the turnaround in having that made was impressive.

We went in the line to see all the pictures of Sabrina. I forgot how dark her hair was when she was younger. Seeing all the pictures of her with friends. She looked so grown up.

Hugging everyone helped. Audrey and Nadine both kept saying thank you to me and James for coming. For driving so long. But honestly the only thing I could say was I wish I didn't have to be here. I wish this didn't happen. But there wasn't a chance I wasn't going to be here. I moved things to make sure I would be. It was important.

There was no service. I am glad. I would have lost it. Instead it was just everyone talking and supporting each other. It was good to be around all the people who loved Sabrina. And I particularly loved talking to my brother and Felicia. And I missed them both and it was just so nice to talk to them. The little moments feel so important. I am very worried how swollen my brother's hands were. He might have an infection from slamming his hand in a door and also poison ivy?? I hope he sees someone.

I also was glad to be with my parents. To talk to my aunt Nadine and uncle Dave who I love so much.

There was a lot of hugging. A lot of laughing. We were being as ridiculous as we normally are when we are all together. The Lentzs don't know how to now start talking about things that are probably not appropriate. We can't stop laughing when it's probably not appropriate. We supported each other by not talking about it but talking about everything else.

I enjoyed hearing about who was who from mom. And I told Nadine they need to come visit us. They went on a not great bus tour through Baltimore so I hope we can give them a better tour soon!!

But then it was time to go. The memorial was slowing down. People were leaving. We had many hugs. Nadine gave me a rose form the large bouquet. Me and Sabrina shared that middle name. I will dry some of the petals. I'll frame them.

Me and James got in the road. And we are about half way home now. I am going to finish my sandwich. And listen to this podcast. And try to just think about the good stuff. I love Sabrina and I will keep her in my thoughts forever.

I hope you are all taking care of yourselves. I love you all. Goodnight my friends. Until next time.

[razorsadness]

I’m still thinking a lot about Jack and the Inferno and everything that surrounds that.

A few days ago, I was ready to start in earnest on my W/IFS zine, and I went to open the extensive notes I’d already written for it. But they were gone. And not just in the recently deleted folder—no, the file was there, with the title in it—but nothing else. I immediately created another file to try and recreate what I could remember, and I was kinda bummed, but it was also kinda funny. See, when Maggie and I were working on our split zine about the odyssey on which we traveled halfway across the country and met the Friendship Society for the first time, we were both having problems with our laptops, and both of us lost huge chunks of what we’d written, twice, before we were finally able to complete it. So this happening now, almost exactly seventeen years later, when I was going to be writing about some of the same stuff… Well, it coulda just been Mercury retrograde, but it felt a little like Jack being a trickster, his spirit fucking with me, as if to say: you’d do better living more, and commemorating less.

But then the next morning, when I went to open my new note to add more to it…the first note had also reappeared, in full. Very funny, Mr. T’Cloth.

A few days ago I went digging through my zine collection, to find some W/IFS-related stuff for research, but I also found a bunch of other old favorite zines I haven’t looked at in years. Despite losing a huge chunk of my zine collection to the basement flooding at my old house four years ago, I still have a massive collection of zines, going back 25+ years. I’m tired of them being buried in boxes and bags, and we have these built-in shelves in our basement, so I’ve decided I’m going to make some DIY magazine holders out of cardboard scraps and actually display them where they’re easy to find.

I came across my copies of Songs About Ghosts, and remembered the time I was sitting at Paddy O’s reading it. See, in one of the stories in issue 1 of that zine, Jasmine requested of the reader that they read it in a public place. And I had it with me on NYE (my birthday) 2003, and I sat at a table in the back reading it while I waited for my friends to arrive. And this guy walking by stopped and asked what I was reading, and I said: “Songs About Ghosts.” Fast forward to 2016, I posted a picture of that zine on my Instagram, and C.M. said: Oh shit, that was YOU! Turned out he was the guy who’d asked me what I was reading, and he told me he’d been so amazed to see this person reading in a crowded bar on New Year’s Eve that he had to say something, and then when I said the title was Songs About Ghosts that stuck with him even more, and he ended up doing an art piece inspired by that moment… He showed me the drawing, and there I was, reading, with all this surreal imagery swirling around me, and he even remembered what I’d been wearing—my red Dickies dress (my rocknroll nurse dress, my lucky dress) and black and white striped stockings. And he said: “It turns out you’ve been hanging out in my head for years,” and ugh. I no longer really have feelings for him, haven’t even really talked to him in a couple years now, but I can still remember how bad I had it for him in 2016. I just…he made me feel seen, and appreciated, at a time when P. didn’t, and it’s hard not to crush on someone who makes you feel so seen.

I’m feeling a bit of the old summer sadness, and thinking a lot about endings. Summer makes me sad in that it never matches up to my expectations of it; I never get to do all I want in any given summer. And just as it officially starts, it also starts to end. And I’m thinking of that kind of ending, as well as another kind—the kind of endings you don’t even recognize as such until after the fact.

[from a journal entry, 06/12/21]

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary230

5/2-3/2024

thursday - friday

work 2morrow.

the palestine thing went well. i learned some things. a lot of things i knew were said again, convictions repeated in different ways, different vantages on the destruction of what surrounds us, america's colonial force, the racism and classism of the west. what a 'free palestine' might actually mean, in the heart of a poem that, i guess speaking honestly, i did not think was 'good' (is that a stupid notion to have in my head as i am somewhere to hopefully learn of mobilizing, escalating, to something else?), it ended with a powerful turn, a declaration of the fact that a freed palestine is tethered to, an example of, the greatest fear of the colonial forces of the world. that people really become capable of liberating themselves. perhaps to make me think this, the poem is good, just not the kind of writing which moves me. which is fine, there was another poem which did, a man begging for the night to go on a little longer so his execution may grow more distant, more time in live.

the night ended with the mention of the various occupations and struggles across the country, and that the students here are currently waiting for a meeting with the president. this is the thing preventing that from taking place, that he relented to speak to them at some point. if he does, and it works out that they disclose and divest, without bringing the student body (of which i am not a part, though i would involve myself however possible. this is a promise i make to myself. i have to, i really believe that, is that strange? i don't know. i feel very bad about myself. am i a bad person? it's always on my mind in various ways and in some sense, this horrific moralism inside me, it is a bourgeois mind virus, this moralism is not political action, not material, it is not what i believe. it is something else.), to pain/suffering in any excess, it would probably be good.

to talk of guilt and then say:

here are selfies from yesterday:

is ridiculous, but here i am. is my vanity evil? i don't know. i don't know. my gf says i am not a bad person, and that the fact i care, that i try and that i have given means something, but does it. but i don't know. sincerely, it hurts my insides.

but here are my selfies from yesterday. i am thinking about geririsuto again, i must go there. i must be that. a pig came to the poetry thing, someone set an emergency alert off. how baffling. anyhow:

anyways that's me in a shirt and with my bangs that i don't hate as much right now. that is nice, to not be so dysphoric and stuff. i like that shirt, it says something funny which is "wish i was not a girl" on it which is funny for all kinds of reasons that are easy to read into in all kinds of directions.

talking to a friend i haven't spoken to in a while, it's nice to speak to people you may have not spoken to for a long time.

anyway, i need to sleep to work (in all sense of the word) and stuff + my laptop is being backed up to this external hd i got so i can put all this stuff onto the new one... so

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!