#coffee with karissa

[armaan-sana]

[fahrni]

Saturday Morning Coffee

Good morning from Charlottesville, Virginia! ☕️

Well, we’re in another of Virginia’s 12 seasons. Fake Spring is over, now it’s time for Winter Two or Three, I can’t remember the funny names given to them. 🤣 It’s been gray and rainy with thunderstorms all week. ⛈️ After a month of beautiful, mostly sunny days, it’s hard to go back to rain. Oh well, such is life in the Southeast.

Hey, good news! That project I loved so much is extended through the end of June. That makes me super happy. 😃

Gracie and Kolby are fired up this morning. Let’s see if they’ll let me get through this in a decent amount of time. Apparently it’s playtime. 🐶

Hope you enjoy the links.

Campbell Robertson • The New York Times

After a meeting that lasted for hours, the Shenandoah County school board voted early Friday morning to restore the names of three Confederate officers to schools in the district.

Good grief. Just when you think the South is finally making some progress stuff like this happens.

Racist bastards. 🤬

512Pixels

As nice as the new OLED display looks, and no matter how powerful the new M4 may be, the iPad’s problem in 2024 — or another year for that matter — is the software.

Power users continue to basically want macOS installed on their iPads.

I say Federico Viticci should find a way to make his FrankenPad easy to reproduce with a full line of accessories and how-to articles to guid you through the process.

He’d make tens of dollars.

Tim Murphy • Mother Jones

Musk is not a tech visionary with a side interest in politics these days, nor is he just another bored billionaire with a nativist streak; the political activism and the technological ambitions are inseparable. He believes his work is part of a civilizational struggle in which woke progressives pose an existential threat to humanity. And he spends most of his days inside a feedback loop that’s radicalizing him even more.

I think we all know good old Space Karen has been Red Pilled for a very long time. Folks like him and Jack Dorsey slide further and further down the rabbit hole with each passing day.

Good riddance I say. I hope they buy some island, move there, and never come back. 🤡

Diana Ionescu • Planetizen

Data centers in Northern Virginia are using “absurd amounts of water” to power cooling systems, writes Sachi Kitajima Mulkey in Grist, causing concern among local officials.

How is it I live in Virginia and didn’t know it was home to so many data centers?

You’d think all these smart people would figure out how to power everything with good clean energy and find alternative cooling methods. Like building underground or something. 💧

Joan Westenberg

It’s time to wake up, folks. When someone offers you “exposure” or says they want to “empower creators,” keep a firm hand on your wallet. They’re not your friend, and they don’t care about supporting the arts. They care about money, pure and simple, and they see creators as resources to be exploited.

I instantly thought of most YouTubers and Musicians. Sure, there are some who make a killing off their works but most make almost nothing.

I thought, very foolishly, I’d be able to make $200 a month with my Indie Apps. Boy was I ever dumb to think that way. At its high point in 2009 to 2011 I was making about $20 a month from RxCalc. It’s still my biggest money maker between it and Stream. That is, of course, my fault. Making my apps better may result in better income.

Do YouTubers and Musicians feel that way or do they feel ripped off by the platforms?

Karissa Bell • Engadget

Jack Dorsey claims Bluesky is ‘repeating all the mistakes’ he made at Twitter

Dorsey also seems to have been Red Pilled. I’m not really sure what he’s after. It sounds like he wants and no hold barred free for all. What he’s after would turn into a giant garbage fire. A flame war to end all flame wars. It would boil out into the streets. An ultimate chaos machine.

Countries have laws. Those laws are largely in place to protect people.

We don’t need a lawless social network but apparently Dorsey now thinks X is the bastion of free speech. It’s not. It’s become a right wing propaganda machine full of Nazis, white supremacist, and vile right wing extremists with your occasional famous actor or favorite personality. 🗑️

Jean MacDonald

I am leaving my position as Community Manager at Micro.blog at the end of this month.

I wish Jean all the best. She’s been ever present on Micro.blog since day one and she made it a better place.

Cheers, Jean, and all the best in your next adventure! ❤️

Kelly Crandall • Racer

Michael McDowell and Spire Motorsports have announced a multi-year agreement for McDowell to become the driver of the team’s No. 71 Chevrolet beginning in 2025.

This caught me off guard! Michael McDowell seems like one of those loyal to a fault type guys. He’s single handedly kept Front Row Motorsports afloat, in my opinion. He’s been very competitive this year at times and spent time leading races. He even came darned close to winning at Talladega. Apparently he told Dale Jr. he was willing to die to win that race. A bit too aggressive for my blood, but that’s the attitude he’ll bring with him to Spire Motorsports.

Here’s hoping he goes to that next level and wins more races.

Jon Brodkin • Ars Technica

Boeing says workers skipped required tests on 787 but recorded work as completed

I just can’t with this company. How can anyone get on a plane now?

I’m afraid of heights and flying in general. So, yeah, I already had issues with getting on a giant tube held in the air by some magical force. Ok, ok, you know what I mean.

Now I’m really leery of getting on one. 😰

Bill Doerrfeld • The New Stack

Open source software is having a midlife crisis. Open source contributors are struggling to keep pace. Popular open source projects are making restrictive licensing changes. Backdoor threats are placing the open source supply chain in jeopardy. And, no one seems to have a clear grasp on what “open” means in the context of artificial intelligence.

There’s a lot of open source software available for individuals and corporations to use without paying a dime for it. That can come at a price. We’ve seen developers remove their packages from node, breaking developers worldwide, we’ve seen plenty of repositories go dark and watch contributions waste away from but rot, and recently we’ve witnessed a long game infiltration into an extremely important piece of software by what appears to be a nation state.

I have no idea how to fix these problems. I suppose treating people with kindness and respect could help with certain issues but some are going to take vigilance one all of our parts to make sure the things we use continue to work and aren’t used for nefarious purposes.

Sarah Perez • TechCrunch

Meta’s move into the open social web, also known as the fediverse, is puzzling. Does the Facebook owner see open protocols as the future? Will it embrace the fediverse only to shut it down, shifting people back to its proprietary platforms and decimating startups building in the space? Will it bring its advertising empire to the fediverse, where today clients like Mastodon and others remain ad-free?

It’s hard for me to imagine what Meta can do to take over the Fediverse but I don’t have a devious mind.

The Fediverse feels like the place we commoners can make a place to flourish. To date I know we have Mastodon as a Twitter replacement and PixelFed as an Instagram replacement. What about YouTube and the likes of Spotify and Apple Music? Is there a brave enough musician or group of musicians willing to build a music streaming service based on open protocols and API’s?

Maybe Taylor Swift would like to back a small team to build streaming software that federates and gives indies a way to host their own music and their own stores. I don’t know if something like that is plausible? Anything is possible to build given enough will, inspiration, time, and resources.

Maybe we’ll see some new ventures spring out of the Fediverse related to video and music streaming.

Jason Graziadei • Nantucket Currenr

Cyber Stuck: First Tesla Cybertruck On Nantucket Has A Rough Day

Once again the Cyber Truck gets a lot of attention by being kind of a bad truck. To be fair it’s easy to get stuck on a beach but damn I kind of like seeing it fail. And that all stems from my dislike of Tesla’s public face in Space Karen.

[tatahbelline]

📷 4147 por 🎀 Tatah 🎀 Via Flickr: Eyes - Gloom - Vanity Collection @Mainstore Skin - AKERUKA Skins - Maggie Duna @Mainstore - New Info - Akeruka is now releasing also SKINS and they are for AK ADVX heads and LEL EVOX Compatible. Inside of skin pack you will find all tones and the vendor shape . Pose - OG - Getting Coffee will @Dollholic - New Hair - Wasabi - Karissa Earmuffs @Mainstore - New Set - N-Uno - Nonna @Mainstore - NeW Skin - Voguel - Anna Skin FATPACK EVOX @LEVEL - New Info Skin : WITH 30%OFF / LEL EVOX / AK ADVX / BOM / EVOX / 12 VELOUR TONES: FROST, BLUSH, ICY, PORCELAIN, SNOW, CHANTILLY, ROSEKISS, DUNE, VALLE, SIENNA, IBIZA & SUNKISS / BROWLESS OPTION / SHAPE & NECKBLEND INCLUDED ⚠️ Style card and credits are on my Blog. More details in my biography 📌

[datauthorress]

;love me (like you love the sun); [Chapter 3]

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes / Original Female Character Summary: “I should be afraid of you.” she whispered against his lips.                  In which Shelby, a Sensitive with Mediumship abilities and a Guardian Demon, meets Sherlock Holmes, a powerful and alluring vampire. Rating: E

“You feeling okay there, Sherlock?”

         Red eyes glowered at her from over the top of the newspaper Sherlock was reading through. Shelby only took a large gulp of her coffee and smiled at him.

         It had been almost a month since their first case and Sherlock had been annoyed since about a couple of weeks ago.

         Shelby lightly nudged her foot against his shin. “We’ll get a case soon.”

         Right on cue, Sherlock’s phone buzzed and he looked at the message, before a grin broke across his face. “We have a case! Get dressed! Lestrade wants us to meet him at the cemetery!”

         “That’s not the first time I’ve had a case in a cemetery.” Shelby chuckled, getting up to put on her proper outfit. She went with something more professional than what she usually wore, wanting to make a good impression on the squad.

         She and Sherlock hailed a taxi to the cemetery, which was already surrounded by a couple of ambulances and around five squad cars. Lestrade was standing at the entrance, looking distressed.

         “What have we got, Lestrade?” Sherlock questioned once they approached.

         “Karissa Worthington, 25-years old, self-inflicted slashes to both wrists. She hit a major artery, causing death within moments.” Lestrade explained as they walked towards the crime scene.

         “So it’s a suicide?” Sherlock asked, arching an eyebrow. “There has to be something more to this,”

         “There is,” Lestrade sighed.

         They arrived to the crime scene and they approached the deceased body of a young woman, slumped against a broken tombstone with her head tilted to the side, eyes barely open and wide open gashes in both of her wrists.

         “Christ,” Shelby whispered. “Was there a note?”

         “Yeah,” Lestrade replied, receiving a bloodied note from Anderson. “It’s addressed to you,”

         Shelby furrowed her eyebrows, before she held the note up and began to read. “Miss Shelby O’viere, I’ve been trying to find a way to get your attention. I’m not sure what else to do. I’ve been plagued by violent nightmares for the last month, nightmares of a place I can only call Hell. Something wants you, and I’m not sure what or who it is. This is it for me. I woke up earlier today and found out I had murdered both of my parents, and don’t remember a single second of it. I feel so horrible, awful and I don’t deserve to live. By the time you receive this letter, I’ll already be dead. I hope this helps you and maybe you can find some peace for my soul. Sincerely, Karissa.”

         “That sounds familiar, wanting you.” Sherlock commented. “That snake-demon you banished a month ago said that Lucifer was obsessed with you.”

         “Maybe, but that doesn’t mean Lucifer is behind this. There are other demons that are far eviler than him.” Shelby sighed. “Her parents’ souls would have gone to Heaven, but Karissa’s soul is most likely on its way to Hell right now.”

         “I thought people who committed suicide didn’t go to Hell?” Anderson asked.

         “They don’t, normally. Now if they do something worse before ending their lives, then yes, they do go to Hell.” Shelby explained. “But in this case, something forced her to murder her parents and found a loop hole to send her to Hell. Which means, I have to go there.”

         “Go? You mean….wait, what?” Donovan breathed.

         “I have to go to Hell, just the first Level. More than likely Karissa’s soul is in Limbo, which is the first Level of Hell.” Shelby said. “Which means, we need to find a Witch.”

         “Why?” Sherlock asked.

         “Because only Witches know a spell that will allow my spirit to travel to Hell.”

         Sherlock pursed his lips. “I know one, but you might not like her.”

         “Well, we’ve got a soul that needs saving, so, let’s go.” Shelby said.

         ~ ~

         “Sherlock Holmes. To what do I owe this dubious visit?”

         The beautiful Witch in front of them was smiling, her painted nails lightly drumming on the doorframe. Sherlock shifted his weight onto the other foot. “Irene,” he spoke. “This is Shelby. We’re working together on a case involving a suicide.”

         “I see,” Irene said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Shelby. How can I help you?”

         “I need to travel to the first Level of Hell.” Shelby began. “A young woman’s soul was manipulated into going to Hell, instead of rising to Heaven. She left a letter for me, saying that someone wanted me. A demon, perhaps, or even Lucifer.”

         “How interesting,” Irene smiled, green eyes gleaming with amusement. “I know the spell, but it will cost you.”

         “How much are we talking?” Shelby asked. “Money isn’t an issue,”

         “Oh, I’m not speaking of money, sweetie.” Irene cooed, turning her gaze to Sherlock. “I want a kiss from Sherlock. And he has to instigate it, not me.”

         Shelby went quiet, feeling a surge of jealousy power through her. She normally didn’t get jealous and while she and Sherlock weren’t exactly a couple yet, but it made her want to forgo this and find another Witch.

         “Fine,” Sherlock said. “But you’ll help us?”

         “One more thing,” Irene said. “You have to kiss me like you kiss Shelby.”

         Busted. Irene knows.

         Sherlock didn’t reply to that statement. Instead, he moved closer to Irene and reached out with both hands, grasping her face gently, just like he would Shelby. He leaned forward, and pressed his lips to Irene’s, kissing her with a passion that he had only shown Shelby in the past month. Irene released a soft moan into the kiss, her hands grasping Sherlock’s curly hair, running her fingers through it. Shelby had to look away, her grip tight on her cane.

         But she had to let it happen, because she needed to travel to Hell.

         After a moment, Irene pulled away from the kiss, some of her lipstick on Sherlock’s mouth. She smiled, brushing it away with her thumb. “Alright,” she said. “I’ll help you. Come in and we’ll start preparations,”

         Irene went back into her flat. Sherlock turned to Shelby, who had a stressed expression on her face. “I….Shelby, I….”

         “It’s okay,” Shelby said softly, reaching forward to take his cold hand in her warmer one. “I already knew you had history with her. It’s okay, really. Now, let’s go. We got work to do.”

         They met up with Irene in the living room, which was covered by beautiful wooden panels. Irene had a multitude of supplies on the table. “Now,” she began, turning to them. “How long are you wanting to stay in Hell? Fifteen, twenty minutes?”

         “An hour.” Shelby deadpanned.

         “A…an hour?!” Irene gaped. “No one has stayed in Hell for more than twenty minutes. Your body will burn.”

         “It won’t.” Shelby said. “I have protection for it and use plenty of ice, and icy cold water.”

         “Have you ever done this before?”

         “I almost got dragged into Hell once, but I’ve never traveled.”

         “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Irene sighed. “Do you know what to do?”

         “Yes, trust me. I’ve done research on this.” Shelby nodded.

         “Alright…. let’s get you prepared.”

         Sherlock sat next to Shelby on the living room floor as Irene prepared her for what was to come. Irene drew White Circles on Shelby’s forehead with white body paint and a White Circle each on both of her palms. “These will be helpful in repelling any demonic beings if they get too close, or grab ahold of you.” Irene explained. “Lay down and lay your head in Sherlock’s lap.”

         Sherlock stayed sitting with his legs crossed and Shelby laid down, resting her head in his lap. He reached up and brushed some of her hair away from her forehead, causing her to smile gently.

         “Once the last word of the spell is read, you will fall, your spirit falling out of your body,” Irene explained, sitting on her knees next to them. “A timer will be set for one hour as soon as the spell is finished. We’ll keep your body from getting too hot and we’ll probably have to throw you in an ice bath afterwards. I’ve never known someone to last more than twenty minutes in Hell.”

         “I understand,” Shelby nodded.

         “Are you ready?”

         “Yes,” she nodded.

         Irene took a deep breath and began to recite a spell in Latin.

         Shelby glanced up at Sherlock as Irene spoke the spell and he squeezed her hand gently. “Be careful,” he whispered.

         “I will,” Shelby nodded.

         Irene spoke the last word of the spell and immediately, Shelby felt the floor give underneath her and she fell backwards, the sight of her own body disappearing from view. Everything around her was dark and all she felt was air pushing against her back. Her eyes closed for the briefest of moments and then she was colliding with a hard, rocky surface. She groaned, pain rushing through her body before her eyes fluttered open. Immediately, she saw the glow of red and orange around her and the rushing wind.

         Shelby grunted as she stood up, her hair whipping in her face in multiple directions. She glanced all around, seeing that she was in the middle of London, but it was absolutely devastated. Buildings crumbled, destroyed, and even just about completely gone.

         “Karissa?!” Shelby called, making her way down the ruined street.

         Shelby didn’t know how long she walked down the street, calling out Karissa’s name. But when she rounded the corner, she heard the cry of a female voice. Shelby ran down the street, ignoring the pain in her leg as she ran towards the source of the noise. She rounded another corner and saw a young woman, Karissa, being dragged down the street by a lower-ranked demon. Nothing but skin and bones and hollow eyes.

         “Hey!” Shelby called out and ran towards them. Once she was within arm’s reach, she touched the demon’s arm with her palm and it screeched in agony, releasing Karissa’s arm and flying quickly into the air.

         “Hey, it’s okay. It’s gone.” Shelby said, comforting the young woman who was completely terrified. “Karissa, right? I’m Shelby. I received your letter.”

         “O-oh, thank you! I….I didn’t mean to hurt them, they….” Karissa was at a loss for words, tears rolling down her cheeks.

         “I know, I know.” Shelby said. “But it’s gonna be okay. I’ll get you out of here,”

         “S….I won’t stay here?” she whimpered.

         “No, sweetie. What happened was not your fault. You were controlled,” Shelby said, taking Karissa’s hand in her own. “Come on. We have to find a way out of here. I can help you rise out of here.”

         ~

         Sherlock pressed a cold rag to Shelby’s forehead, and another one to the back of her neck. Her body temperature had risen to 101 degrees in a span of twenty minutes.

         “She indeed has protection after all,” Irene said softly. “She has a Guardian, although it’s very secretive. Normally anyone who travels to Hell would only last twenty, maybe thirty minutes at most before their body would burn up.”

         “Burn up how?” Sherlock asked, keeping the cold rags pressed to her skin.

         “Their body temperature would rise to fatal levels and basically cook them alive,” Irene replied. “I’ve seen it happen plenty of times and it’s not pretty to watch.”

         Sherlock made a face and glanced back down to Shelby. She moved her head slightly to the side, small puffs of air leaving her mouth. “Be careful,” he whispered.

         ~

         “We’re almost there,”

         Shelby kept up her pace with Karissa, as they hurried towards the light that had begun to form in the fiery sky above them. The first Level of Hell pulsed all around them and then a loud booming sound erupted, as a giant pillar of light came down to the ground, connecting to it and any demon that was in the vicinity had either been repelled away or disintegrated in the light.

         The girls breathed harshly as they finally reached the pillar of bright light. The wind whipped all around them.

         “Here we are,” Shelby said above the wind.

         “Is that…?”

         “That’s Heaven,” Shelby nodded. “Your family is waiting there for you. They’ll understand, I promise.”

         “What about you?” Karissa asked, turning her gaze to Shelby.

         “I have a way of getting back. I’m not dead,” Shelby replied with a slight shake of her head. “Go!”

         Karissa threw her arms around Shelby in a tight, quick squeeze before she ran into the pillar of light. Once she did, it disconnected from the ground and flew up, disappearing almost as soon as it appeared. Just as soon as the pillar vanished, a scalding hot hand grabbed onto her wrist, causing her to yelp as it burned her flesh.

         She thrusted her hand at the demon, which screeched and released her. Another hand grabbed her other wrist, then her shoulder and her other wrist, preventing her from using the White Circles to repel the demons.

         “Haha, we caught her!” a low-ranked demon cackled in her ear, its hands holding onto her waist.

         “Get off me!” Shelby shouted, kicking at the demon’s stomach.

         It growled and reached up with a hand, its scalding hot palm colliding with her face in a harsh slap. She could feel the cuts forming on her face, blood already beading up and seeping from the wounds.

         “We should eat her!” a demon laughed from behind her, and she hissed in pain as it’s burning tongue lapped at the side of her neck.

         “No! I want to play with her first!” another demon by her legs protested, a hand burning into her leg through her jeans. “I want to hear her SCREAM!”

         The demons cackled in her ears and then, a sonic boom echoed through the realm. The demons all went silent, looking into the direction of the noise. They gasped and all at once, tossed her into a car before flying off quickly. Shelby’s head broke the glass of the already trashed car and she toppled to the ground, her ears ringing and black spots in her vision. She could feel a presence approaching her, but she could barely move. She was able to make out the presence of a man, wearing black shoes as he walked into her vision.

         “Tsk, you’re really itching to get killed, aren’t you?” a man’s voice echoed, powerful and booming all at once.

         “I had to save her,” Shelby said quietly.

         “I know,” the man hummed. “But it’s not your time. Not yet, at least.”

         She felt strong arms moving underneath her body and scooping her up, letting her lean up against a strong, warm chest. The man walked a few steps before he stood at the edge of the bridge, where nothing but a black pit resided. “Go back to Earth. I’ll see you there,”

         Before she had a chance to look up and take in the man’s features, he held her out and promptly dropped her over the bridge. Wind rushed at her back as the fires of the first level disappeared from view.

         Her eyes shut-

         And then snapped open in shock, a loud gasp escaping her parched mouth and a violent fit of coughs.

         “She’s back!” Irene exclaimed, quickly getting up. “Sherlock, bring her upstairs, quickly. She needs to cool down her body temperature!”

         ~

         Shelby shuddered violently as she was finally pulled out of the tub, her clothes soaked and clinging to her body. Sherlock and Irene were drying her off, while Irene was checking her body temperature. “She’s down to 98.9, we’re good now.” she said, nodding. “I’m grabbing some clothes for her, so get those off. She’s staying here tonight.”

         “G-go a-ahead,” Shelby nodded.

         Sherlock was careful as he peeled the cold, soaked clothes off of her form. Wherever the demons had grabbed her, there were black soot, bruise-like marks. They were all over her body, including on her neck. Once her clothes had been peeled off, Sherlock wrapped her body in a massive, fluffy towel.

         “Are you alright?” he asked her, running a hand through her damp locks.

         “Mm,” she nodded, leaning against him with her head tucked underneath his chin.

         Irene came back into the room after about five minutes, holding a pair of warm, clean clothes. She was about to ask if she could dress Irene, but Shelby said she was comfortable with Sherlock helping her dress. Irene left to give them privacy, and Sherlock helped the young woman stand, helping her dress while also being respectful to not let his eyes linger on her body longer than necessary. After she was dressed, Sherlock carried her to the bed, where he set her down.

         Shelby stretched her sore limbs and Sherlock noticed the intensity of the scar on her right leg, of the damage that her leg absorbed and caused her to walk with a limp.

         “Tired?” he asked, smoothing her hair away from her face.

         “Yea,” she said softly, sliding underneath the covers. Panzer jumped onto the bed and circled twice before laying down beside her, his head on her belly.

         “Get some sleep,” Sherlock told her, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to her lips.

         Shelby returned it for a few moments before her medicine kicked in and she was asleep shortly after. Sherlock scratched behind Panzer’s ear before leaving the room, closing the door behind him.

         Irene leaned against the wall; her arms crossed over her chest. “You never cease to amaze me, Sherlock Holmes. And you once told me you would never be with a human.”

         “Obviously, I was wrong.” Sherlock said.

         “For once,” she teased.

         Sherlock rolled his eyes, walking past her so he could head to a Feeder Facility to feed.

[coupletshirts]

All you need is love and more coffee!

[the-loserly-misfits-of-bca]

Karissa™ Moodboard

[aquietwritingcorner]

Writers Month Day 2: Cold/Coffee Word Count: 2203 Author: aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl Rating: G/K Characters: Major Miles, Olivier Mira Armstrong, Captain Buccaneer Warning: NA Summary: Ephraim Miles has been transferred to Fort Briggs, and is more than a little unsure of his position there. Notes: I know that the idea of Miles being married and having a wife is due to an early fan translation and not the official translations of the manga, but I find it fun to play with! AO3 || ff.net

 _________________________________

 Cold/Coffee

 Whoever had told Ephraim Miles that Fort Briggs was cold had been wrong. Fort Briggs was colder than the underside of an ice cube. He had never felt a cold as deep as this, which, he supposed was part of the reason he was here. Miles was under no illusions as to why he had been transferred not only to the north, but specifically to Fort Briggs.

It was because of his Ishvalan blood. It was because he was a risk to the military. It was because they were suspicious that he could be a traitor to the military in favor of Ishval. (Could he be sure that they were wrong? Even he wasn’t sure.)

He had settled his wife and daughter in a home in North City. It wasn’t much, but it was what they could find at the time. People weren’t as willing to rent or sell to him when they saw his looks. It had been difficult. Karissa was going to look for them a better home while he was gone. She was a smart, strong, shrewd woman, and Miles has confidence in her abilities. He trusted her judgement. She would be alright. His daughter would be alright.

He just hoped that he would be alright.

Miles squinted and looked out at the frozen ground beyond him He had been dropped by the transport at the beginning of the road that led to the fort. Apparently, he was to walk the rest of the way. Well, so be it. It wasn’t as if complaining about it would make any difference. Shouldering his pack, Miles began the journey.

The wind cut through him as he walked, freezing him down to his bones. He distracted himself by going over what he knew about his new posting and his new commander. Fort Briggs was, basically, a giant wall that stretched from mountain to mountain in one of the more passable areas of the Briggs Mountains. For about five miles or so beyond it, the land was contested between Drachma and Amestris. Both countries claimed it. Neither had been quite willing to start a war over it. Both had people on it. There were regularly skirmishes on it.

The fort was currently under the command of Brigadier General Olivier Mira Armstrong. She had been in command of it for the past three years. Within those past three years the fort had gone from being regarded as little more then cannon fodder that would allow time for an alert to be raised and Northern Command to be mobilized to a force that would hold its own and beyond, giving no quarter, leaving no weakness, and using Northern Command as their back up.

The change could be laid at the feet of General Armstrong. She was one of Amestris’s elites, blonde haired, blue eyed, and, according to rumor, ruthless and cold. She came from a noble family, a wealthy family, who could trace its roots back to the founding of Amestris. Her family had a strong military tradition. She, herself, had been a member of special operations units, worked undercover missions, led troops in the west, and was successful in all that she did.

…Which made Miles wonder just what she was doing up here.

That wasn’t really his concern, though. He knew why he was here, and why she was here wasn’t important. What was more pressing to him, was what she would think of him. He had been sent to be her adjunct, and that meant that they would need a good sense of trust. And that was where his concern came in. She was a pure-blooded Amestrian with a pedigree that was impeccable. He was a mixed-breed mongrel with obvious roots of an enemy the military was fighting. He couldn’t discount the possibility that she would look at him, sneer, and immediately dismiss him.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

He could only deal with scenarios that could be for so long. He had braced himself for the worst and spent the rest of the time focusing on the landscape around him. He had been warned to stick to the road, and so he did. There was snow everywhere. It was an icy landscape, although, he noticed, not a barren one.  There were enclaves of trees dotting the landscape, and here and there he could see animals or the traces of where animals had been. The land itself had small dips and rolls in it, hard to see in the pure whiteness of the ground around them. They left him with the uncomfortable feeling that he was being watched, followed, and to be honest, he wouldn’t be surprised if he was.

It took him a few of hours of slogging through the snow to arrive at Fort Briggs. Learning to move through it had been tricky at first, but it really wasn’t that different then sand, once he got the hang of it, at least as far as the slickness of it. The difference was that in some places his footsteps sunk down in the snow as he walked. He quickly learned how to look for the places in the snow that looked either packed down or iced over enough that he wouldn’t sink. By the time he arrived at the fort, he was exhausted, sweaty, and absolutely freezing.

The fort itself was the most imposing building that he had ever seen. It had looked big when he got his first glimpse of it. It had grown larger and larger, rising to impossible heights. But more imposing than that was the woman who was waiting on one of the landings of the Fort.

She stood there, her hair down, her coat open, both blowing in the wind. A sheathed sword was in her hand, the sheath resting on her shoulder, and he had the distinct impression that she knew how to use it well. Her full lips were pursed, scowling, and her blue eyes pierced him, somehow colder than even the snow that was pelting his face. Behind her stood a hulking giant of a man, black hair in a mohawk that ended in a braid, a thin mustache, and a look that immediately told Miles where his loyalty lied

“We expected you sooner, Major,” her voice rang out, and command in it was clear. This was a woman used to commanding people and having orders followed. Her eyes swept over him.

Miles immediately saluted. “Apologies, General,” he said. He offered up no excuses or reasons for his apparently late arrival. He had none, and she didn’t think that this woman would accept them anyway.

For a moment, she said nothing, then just snorted and turned away. “Buccaneer! He’s all yours.”

“Yes, General, sir!” the hulking man said. He grinned down at Miles even as General Armstrong walked away. Somehow, Miles was not reassured. “Welcome to Fort Briggs, Cub,” he said. “Let’s see how fast you learn.”

Fort Briggs, Miles quickly learned over the next few weeks, was brutal. The rule of the land was survival, and the force driving everything was General Armstrong’s iron will. She was a terrifying woman, and he had barely had any interactions with her yet. He couldn’t figure out if that was because she rejected him as her adjunct, which meant that he shouldn’t count on staying here for long, or if she was just waiting for him to get through with his training period.

Miles had learned from Buccaneer that everyone who arrived at Briggs went through a six-week training period. It taught them the dangers of the mountains, of the winter, and the workings of the fort. Survival skills were heavily emphasized, as was an intimate knowledge of the fort. General Armstrong insisted that everyone know how the fort functioned so that in emergencies anyone could step up. According to Buccaneer—who wasn’t a bad fellow, just a little rough around the edges, and demanding in his requirements—even the general had gone through the same training when she arrived. It wasn’t an order then, though. She had chosen it herself, so that she would be able to understand and command effectively.

Miles could respect that.

However, the woman was still confusing to him. She clearly commanded the loyalty of her troops, almost to a fault. The men were both terrified and in awe of her. The only bad things anyone had to say about her were actually compliments from them, or things that they just brushed off, as one did a minor inconvenience.

She still had barely done more than glance his way.

Today, though, as he trudged back inside the fort, he stopped short in surprise. General Armstrong was standing there, looking over the troops as they came back in. Her eyes immediately darted to Buccaneer, who was being helped in by Stodds and Worshel, even as Lieutenant Jamin was speaking quickly to her. Her eyes met Miles’s for a moment, and he felt as if he were being assessed. Then the moment passed, and he was seeing to the rest of the patrol coming in and she was issuing orders.

The fort was locked down tightly. Everyone went on alert. Northern Command was contacted and anyone coming was ordered back. No unnecessary communications were permitted. It was standard procedure after a patrol was attacked by a Drachman patrol. Miles stayed up most of the night, writing his report on the incident and checking up on Buccaneer, who, Doc assured him, would be fine. He took his turn on the top of the fort during the coldest hours before daybreak. Aside from feeling as if he were freezing his sideburns off, nothing happened, and when he was relieved of duty, he gratefully came back inside. He was barely a dozen steps in, however, when he was suddenly stopped.

“Major.” He blinked, looking over at General Armstrong. She stood there, as if she had been waiting on him. “Walk with me.”

All he really wanted to do was find something warm to drink and go to bed, but all he said was “Yes, sir,” and followed her.

For a few moments, they walked in silence.

“Buccaneer told me what happened out there,” she said. She glanced at him. “He was rather complimentary of the way you took command.”

“Very kind of him, sir,” Miles commented back, non-committally.

She hummed. “Your training period is almost up,” she said. “You were assigned here to be my adjunct. But I don’t take commands on assignments in my fort from anyone.”

Miles just gave a neutral sounding noise. Here’s where it came. She was going to dismiss him or reduce his role. At least if he worked in the lower levels he’d be warmer. He hoped Karissa hadn’t put in an offer on that house yet.

“Instead,” she continued, “I wait until the training period is over, look at the data and recommendations, and then make the assignments from there. Just because Command thinks someone will work in a position doesn’t mean it holds true here at Briggs.”

That, Miles had to agree, was probably true. Briggs was definitely its own ecosystem, and there was no way that Command could accurately assign people to it.

“However, based upon your performances and Buccaneer’s recommendation, I have already made my decision on you.” She paused. “For the last week of your general training, after you finish, you will report to me for your training in how to be my second in command.”

Not expecting that, Miles’s feet stuttered, not exactly tripping, but definitely not a steady gait. “Sir?” he said, questioning.

She didn’t miss a beat. “You’ve proven yourself capable from the beginning. When you first arrived, you were late. It was because you were not provided with the proper equipment. Your coat was substandard, and you were not given snowshoes as you should have been. And yet you persevered and gave no excuse for your tardiness. It was ignorance on your part, I know, but your determination was still impressive. You approached every ounce of training with focus and attention, learning the workings of the Fort as well as survival here in Briggs quickly and without complaint. You’ve proven that you are intelligent and think on your feet. You are capable of accomplishing tasks even without the right tools.”

She pushed open a door, and gestured for him to follow her, continuing to talk. “You are exactly the kind of man we need here at Briggs, and the kind I need at my right hand. It will be a demanding job, but you are up to the task.”

They were in her office now, he realized, and she was waiting on something from him. There was, really, only one thing that he could say to that. He saluted. “Sir, it would be an honor.”

One side of her lips tipped up, as if she had been expecting this. “Good.” She turned away for a moment, and then faced him again, holding out a cup of coffee to him. “Let’s discuss your new duties.”

Miles took the cup, letting its warmth spread out on his hands. Maybe, just maybe, this was going to be a better posting than he thought.

[tomhollandstrash]

You Broke Me First

Fratboy! Tom x Reader 

Hi y’all! Here’s one of my first pieces of writing that I’m posting. Honestly, I love to read angsty things, so I thought I’d try my hand at it! This one hurt to write, so I hope y’all enjoy. Let me know what you think and if you have any requests, please feel free to send them in :’)

This one is kind of open ended, so I’d definitely be willing to write a second part if that’s something people are interested in!

xx, 

Karissa 

Warnings: some cursing, big boy angsty times ahead

Word count: 1.3k words

p.s. listen to ‘you broke me first’ by tate mcrae while you read this. i was listening to it the whole time i was writing haha. 

--

You sighed and looked at the ceiling. The sound of your phone vibrating next to your pillow pulled you out of your thoughts. You sighed when you saw who was calling. Begrudgingly, you picked up the phone. 

“Hi Tom,” You sighed into the phone, putting your palm against your forehead. 

“Hey, darlin’,” Tom greeted you. 

You and Tom had met during your first year of university. You were running back to your dorm when you ran into Tom, nearly avoiding sending both of you to the ground. Breathless apologies turned into coffee, which turned into spending all your free time together, which turned into sweet kisses and gentle ‘I love you’s. 

Unfortunately, these days those moments feel like distant memories. You can’t remember the last time Tom told you he loved you and it felt like he meant it. It felt like even longer since the two of you spent any actual time together. 

“What do you want, Tom?” You grumbled, sitting up in your bed. 

He drew in a breath, letting out a slight chuckle when he exhaled. 

“I’m hungover, can you come over?” He asked with a small groan.

“Tom, really? Again? It’s a Tuesday morning,” You sighed. 

“Please? I’ll never ask you for anything ever again,” Tom whined into the phone. “Besides, I missed you last night and I want to see you,” 

You really did consider hanging up and going back to bed, but damn Tom Holland and his missing you. You couldn’t say no to him no matter how much you wished you could. 

“Fine, I’ll see you in 20,”

--

As Tom became more involved in Greek life, he started relying on you for more and more. Slowly but surely he was becoming a version of him you weren’t sure you liked. Sure you still loved him and cared deeply for him, but being expected to always be there for him with no reciprocation was exhausting. If he wasn’t calling you to help him nurse his hangover from last night’s party, he was calling you to help him with something else. All you ever got in return was a “Thanks, love” with a boyish smile. And while those boyish smiles used to fill your tummy with butterflies, they were now wearing down on your heart little by little. 

You stood in front of Tom’s bedroom door, debating whether or not you still wanted to address how you were feeling. He was hungover, maybe it wasn’t the best time. Maybe you should wait until he felt better. You shook your head and knocked on the door. If you didn’t do it then, you weren’t sure you’d ever do it. You’ve been putting his needs before your own for far too long. 

“I brought you ibuprofen, some tea, and a chocolate chip brioche bun,” You gave him a tight lipped smile and placed the items on his bed side table, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Rough night?” 

“You could say that,” Tom propped himself up on his elbow and gave your arm a gentle squeeze, giving you a sleepy smile. 

You nodded your head, avoiding his eyes. An awkward silence that only you seemed to notice settled over the room. Not even a simple “thank you” this time. You smiled bitterly to yourself. Tom picked up his phone and began scrolling through its contents, reaching over to sip his tea. You bit your lip and took a deep breath. Despite being unbelievably frustrated by Tom, you still had a soft spot for him. The first six months of your relationship were everything you could have ever wanted. 

The two of you used to be practically attached at the hip. He would always meet you after your classes ended for the day and the two of you would explore the city. Whether you just decided to take a walk together or grab dinner, it was always time well spent enjoying each other’s company. Every day was filled with affectionate touches, sweet glances, and breathtaking kisses. Now you were lucky if you could get a simple call or a text when he didn’t need something from you.

“Tommy?” You asked, playing with the corner of his blanket. 

“Hmm?” He hummed, still looking at his phone. 

“Can we talk?” You looked over to him, frowning when you realized he was paying more attention to the device in his hands than you. 

“Sure,” Tom said, reluctantly putting his phone down. “What did you want to talk about?” 

“There’s no easy way to say this, but I,” You paused, trying to find the words to express what you were feeling. 

Tom sat straight up, suddenly extremely alert and forgetting about his raging hangover. 

“What’s on your mind, y/n?” He asked, heart dropping into his stomach. 

Tom didn’t know what it was you wanted to talk about, but he knew it couldn’t be good. He silently hoped that you weren’t thinking about leaving him. He was still deeply in love with you, he needed you.

“It’s just... these past few weeks...” You trailed off, playing with your fingers. “It feels like we barely see each other, and- I’m sorry, I just don’t know if I can keep doing this,” 

You stood up and walked toward the door, tears threatening to spill, looking back at Tom to see his reaction. His fingers carded through his messy brown hair as he got up and cautiously stepped closer to you, grabbing the hand that was hanging limply by your side.  

“You don’t want me anymore?” He asked so quietly that it was almost inaudible, lower lip trembling slightly as he gently ran his thumb over your knuckles. “You know how I feel about you,”

God, you hated seeing him like this. On the verge of tears and holding your hand like you would disappear at any moment. It broke your heart even more. This was the first time in weeks you’d heard him say anything to you that felt even remotely sincere. You bit your lip and avoided his eye contact. 

“Do I? Tom, I want you more than anyone, but I can’t deal with this anymore. It seems like you only want me when you need something. It’s always ‘I need this’ or ‘help me with that’- and while I don’t mind helping you, I just feel like you don’t care when I’m here. Do you even care that I’m here right now?” You looked at him, eyes glistening with tears. “It’s just that when you tell me you love me, I don’t know if I believe you anymore. We never talk anymore, and you only ever reach out if you need something from me,” 

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

Tom blinked, at a loss for words. Was he really treating you that badly? Sure, he’d been spending more time around his friends and working on frat stuff, but he thought he was making time for you. Maybe you weren’t spending as much time together as you used to but both of you were so busy. At least, that’s what he always told himself. Come to think of it, he didn’t really know what you were up to these days, because he never really bothered to ask. 

He fell to his knees as he realized how much he fucked everything up, wrapping his arms around your legs tightly, and burying his face into your side. If he would have reached out to you, made you feel more loved- if he had just been better, maybe he wouldn’t have found himself in this situation. He hated realizing that he was hurting you. 

“I’m so sorry, y/n,” Tom whimpered, his tears making your shirt damp. 

You opened and closed your mouth in shock, tentatively putting your hand on top of his head and gently playing with his hair. The two of you stood like that for what seemed like hours with Tom whispering apologies into your side. 

As his sniffles started to subside, he slowly stood back up and looked at you. 

“So, where do we go from here?” 

[shynamon]

Sometimes I Hear Them ♥ | Blog Post 254

View full pic on Flickr

Head: Genus Project - Genus Classic Face  

Body: Maitreya - Lara Mesh Body

Hair: DOUX - Tisianna Hairstyle

Top: Catarsis - Silencio Top

Pants: ROULY - Bounce Spandex Leggins *NEW* @ Level

Pose: Sweet Art - Freya Pose *NEW* @ Vanity

*SCENE*

Backdrop: MINIMAL - Corinna Backdrop (Balcony) *NEW* @ C88

North Oak - Living Room Essential Collection

Bird of Paradise

Karissa Velvet Couch (pink)

Sigrid Coffee Table

Sigrid End Table

Vatos Lamp

Pitaya - Alfazema Set *NEW* @ Anthem

Ornamental vases - Long (laveneder)

Ornamental vases - round (laveneder)

Basket with Lavender

Frames 

Pitaya 

Cushion Collection Part I (White)

InsurreKtion - Vintage Birds Houses Set *NEW* @ Mainstore

Vintage Birds House A

Vintage Birds House B

InsurreKtion 

Kawaii Animal Puff - Giraffe

Spring Deco Set 01 - Books

MishMish - Pigeon Deco

[atticusm]

*clears throat* hi, is this thing working? i’m candy, broadcasting from aest and i go by she/her pronouns. may i present my baby atticus! i did not intent for this introduction to get as long as it has, so i am sooOOOooo sorry about that. in short, this is my kindergarten teacher that takes a while to warm up to people but likes to talk ... take that as you will. he likes to have fun when he’s in the mood and loves his job and will do anything for his loved ones. give this a like if you’d like to plot and i’ll head to your dms, or hmu either or! stats, wanted connections and all that jazz to come i’m just to excited. ENJOY :’) @mapleviewstarters​

full name : atticus james maitland  nickname(s) : ace , atta , atti ( rare ) birth date : october twenty-seven zodiac sign : scorpio age : twenty-seven   gender : cis male pronouns : he / him / his sexual orientation : bisexual romantic orientation : biromantic education : high school diploma , bachelor of arts in elementary education , teaching license/certification

tw: infidelity. 

BACKGROUND

born three years after his older brother, atticus was brought into what seemed to be a happy, stereotypical “ everyday ” family  - yet by the age of two karissa and heath maitland’s mariage was anything but a joyous one. to the outside world the maitland family were the one’s that would be there whenever someone needed a helping hand, would be the first to put their hand up for community activities, be seen smiling and have no qualms. behind closed doors, however, that was not the case. 

atticus grew up with his mother and father arguing profusely or even barely speaking to each other on a regular basis. there were times that they got along, of course, but atticus always looks back on his childhood filled with tension. like he was walking on eggshells. the most he had fun with his family was when they went on holidays or were out and about in general, simply because his parents would put on an act. dare anybody in mapleview know what was going on between them. 

when atticus began to find his voice, he began to step in when his parents would argue; telling them to stop though it would only get him so far. sometimes they wouldn’t hear him when he was very young, or they would demand him go to his room and they were having an adult discussion. as time went on, karissa would back down and she, atticus and his brother would often go for a walk together. they would often talk about everything about anything, would find something to do together and she soon became his favourite person. 

when it came to school, he went through phases of loving it, then hating it and then coming around to loving it again. this didn’t change much all the way through to the end of high school. there was a lot he liked about school as he got older - mainly because he could get out of the house and talk to people, find new things to do and explore new interests. some interests his parents wouldn’t be too happy to hear about, like getting his first stick and poke tattoo at sixteen in his best friends basement.

around the start of his final year of high school, a fight between karissa and heath broke out as per normal in the early hours of the morning. it had woken atticus from the slamming of doors and screaming between them, but what took him from his bed was the sound of their family car leaving the driveway. he doesn’t ever remember seeing his mother cry before that point, and seeing her sitting on the back porch in the moonlight trying to muffle her crying broke him. 

turns out heath had been had been having an affair, and it wasn’t the first time he had cheated on karissa. it had happened when he was seven, though they had agreed to work through it for the two boys - much to atticus’ disgust. he sat with her that night, and although she didn’t want to to begin with, she let him comfort her and she talked about it all to him. 

by the end of his senior year, his parents had were living in separate houses and filling for divorce. and atticus was all for it as much as it hurt him. he knew it would be for the best. they couldn’t stay together any longer and the fact they stayed together for him and his brother riddled him with guilt. not only did he feel guilty for being the reason they stayed together, he also felt bad for how people would’ve seen their family after the divorce was finalized. 

COLLEGE/TEACHING

atticus went straight to college, not wanting to muck around and waste time in getting his degree. he studies hard, but that didn’t mean he didn’t party hard. one third of college was spent drunk/hungover, another was spent with his head in the books and the other was on practical work placement. the minute he stepped into a classroom on his student teaching placement he knew there was no turning back ( not that the debt would be a deterrence ). 

he graduated at twenty-two, spent one school year as a teaching assistant at the elementary school and applied the year of his twenty-forth birthday. luckily, he got the job as a kindergarten teacher. this will be his third year teaching kindergarten. 

atticus has always loved children and has always been interested in the idea of teaching, specifically younger children. he loves always learning new things, which teaching can certainly do for him, but mainly he wants to be able to impact the lives of children in a positive way and make a difference. children are the leaders of tomorrow and if he can make that difference, make a child smile or make coming to school fun, then he feels like he’s accomplished something in his life. he knows that he remembers his teachers that made him feel like he could do anything and be who he wanted to be. not only that, but he certainly needed a positive adult figure at that age when home life was filled with such tension.  

PRESENT

at the moment, atticus is renting a nice little house in chestnut drive while he saves for his own house. he is very comfortable with who he is and whoever thinks otherwise is free to their opinion, but he doesn’t care for it. 

he is not on speaking turns with his father, and hasn’t been since mid college. he would rather chew off his own arm than speak to him. atticus is well aware he is holding a gruge, but he doesn’t care; maybe in ten years time he’ll loosen up but not any time soon. thankfully, heath moved out of town so not speaking to him makes it easier.

this is all i have for now but let’s build on this by plots!

PERSONALITY

atticus can have a lot of fun, you just have to get him in the right mood. he won’t go out for night on the town if he’s feeling low because he’s just going to have a depressive come down and how self destructive he can be. he had his reckless days, and he’s more aware of the consequences his actions cause. 

with that being said! he’s very social, loves to talk as long as it’s not about himself too deeply. will be that guy that won’t leave you sitting alone and will engage in conversation with anyone about almost anything.

his moods can be very up and down, leaving him to be very unpredictable. one week he’ll be very happy and cheery and the next he’ll be extra reserved, keeping to himself and his thoughts. 

atticus keeps people at a distance and will be very suspicious of those he doesn’t know. there are times he honestly wishes he could be a mind reader because it would put him at ease ( at least a little bit ). it takes him a long time to warm up to people and when he does, he forms very deep connections with them. he has a lot of people he knows, but few close friends. 

touching on that, he will do just about anything for those he cares for. he is vengeful, cunning and will bide his time to take out his payback if need be if someone hurts his loved ones. he will always keep his job in the back of his mind, and if he needs to, he will get someone to do his dirty work for him ( don’t come at me for it ). when he cares for you, you’re basically like family to him. 

he is a very caring, loving gentleman and affectionate deep in his core. whenever a child comes in upset, after making sure the class is working away in groups, he’ll talk to them. or whenever they’re hurt, he’s the first one they call over. in his personal life, atticus is definitely the person you can ring in the middle of the night if you need help and he will be there one he’s made a quick instant coffee for the both of you. 

very very passionate about his job! atticus stays up late some nights looking for new work ideas, stays back late to hang up artwork, is in early more often than not to make sure the classroom is set up just right. 

he loves to express himself through his clothes; wearing colours and patterns and flared pants. much like harry but tries not to go too over the top for the workplace. catch him after work showing off those tattoos ( that i will write about on his stats page ) with low cut tops and patterned vests, or silk pants, ruffled blouses. that is where his money goes. 

[armaan-sana]

[honestsm]

RULES: Answer 20 questions, tag 20 bloggers (i’ll probably only tag a few) you want to get to know better. I was tagged by @adelaidestreets ❤️

name: karissa

nickname: krissy, karis

zodiac: taurus

height: 5’9

language: english, tagalog

nationality: american

fav season: autumn

fav flower: aubrieta

fav scent: vanilla (i’m basic ik)

fav colour: pale or golden yellow (not just ‘yellow’ alright)

fav animal: sloth

fav fictional character: steve rogers/captain america

coffee, hot tea, or hot choco: coffee, i can’t function without it

avg sleep: varies, usually 2-4 hours, 6 hours on a good day (my sleep schedule is wack 🤪)

dog or cat person: dog person

no. of blankets: 1-3 blankets always, but never 0!

dream trip: japan with friends <3

blog established: august 2019

followers: a couple of hundred 🤫

random fact: i have the most subtle lazy eye, you can’t really tell unless you just focus on trying to see it lol

tagging: @rainbowshawn @illumecherry @giveuthisrose @clownmendes @flweralessia

[sciencepainted]

Excited to be part of this show! Details below. See you Friday, Portland!

FREE SPIRIT NEWS: FOURTH DIMENSIONAL ISSUES CO-PRESENTED BY ADAMS AND OLLMAN AND MELANIE FLOOD PROJECTS AT MELANIE FLOOD PROJECTS 420 SW WASHINGTON STREET, #301 PORTLAND, OR JULY 12—AUGUST 12, 2019 OPENING RECEPTION: FRIDAY, JULY 12 FROM 5—7PM   Adams and Ollman, in collaboration with Melanie Flood Projects, is pleased to present an exhibition with the artists and contributors to the zine Free Spirit News. Founded in 2008 and based in Portland, Oregon, Free Spirit News is a free local publication that embodies collaboration and participation from a wide array of artists, writers, thinkers, other “free spirits" from around the world. With idiosyncratic content and a penchant for the nonsensical and the absurd, each issue includes a raucous mix of comics, doodles, jokes and poetry.   Their exhibition, Fourth Dimensional Issues—other titles in the running included Bumbling Through Life, Idiots Guide to Cartooners for Dummies, G.O.O.F.S. (The Galleristic Onanism of Free Spirit) and Rag Against The Machine—will be on view July 12 through August 20 at Melanie Flood Projects in Portland, Oregon. Inspired by radical and counterculture magazines, comics and street theater groups such as Mad Magazine, Zap Comix, Mothers News, and the Diggers of San Francisco, Free Spirit News offers irreverence and creativity as the “news of the spirit” available free of charge to all who come across it at local coffee shops, records stores and bars. Twelve collaborative editions have been published since its founding and each thematic issue has challenged dominant modes of communication, commerce and image-making. United by a shared graphic sensibility and commitment to inclusion, the artists represented in the exhibition deftly skewer and satirize all aspects of life, politics and popular culture. The playful content and lo-fi aesthetics of Free Spirit News translate to the gallery space in this exhibition that will include painting, drawing, sculpture and animation from the Free Spirit News editors and a wide circle of contributors and friends. Additionally, performances and events will be held in conjunction with the exhibition including a live drawing and dance party with Spoiler Room, an audiovisual media collective that creates site-specific “TV parties” and a seminar by Dawn Riddle in collaboration with Joel Stotesbery on "Harnessing Marketing Potential in the Multiverse Age.” Artists included in Fourth Dimensional Issues include: Adam Amram, Sean Christensen, Espen Friberg, Leif Goldberg, Natalie Ann Howard, Dave Hubner, Dylan Jones, Maren Karlson, Joshua Kermiet, Jeffrey Kriksciun, Corey Lunn, Eric W. Mast, Dino Matt, Kevin McNamee-Tweed, Nick Norman, Mike Olson, Dawn Riddle, Maya Rose, Karissa Sakumoto, Raf Spielman and Lasse Wandschneider.                        

[ororowrites]

Erik Stevens x OC: Christmas

Pair: Erik x OC 

Warnings: Light smut 

I also have a T’Challa and Storm Christmas fic. You can find that here. 

“Christmas is on you,” Mrs. Thomas told her only child on Thanksgiving. 

Since that day, Karissa was prepping a Christmas dinner menu and decorating her townhouse to get into the holiday spirit. Christmas dinner had been a tradition in her family for as long as she could remember. So, she had a big job on her hands. Since she was an adult with her own spot, the Thomas Christmas dinner was now a major part of her holiday break from school. 

But, dinner and entertaining 5 of her family members wasn’t the only thing on Karissa’s plate. Her boyfriend, Erik, was meeting her family. He didn’t seem to be bothered, but Karissa’s family had no filter. Her grandmother didn’t know when to keep her mouth shut and often said something embarrassing to run off whoever Karissa was dating.

“Where do you want this ugly nigga,” Erik asked, holding up the black Santa she had just purchased a few days ago. 

“Don’t call my shit ugly. Put him on top of the coffee table with the elf,” Karissa pointed towards the living room while she stirred her homemade gravy. The recipe had survived four generations and she prayed she got it just right. “Baby, I think I’m going to need more butter and brown sugar.” Karissa knew as soon as she said that, Erik would have a smart remark ready. 

“You used those two sticks I got last night,” he questioned, stepping back into the kitchen. His short dreads needed some TLC, but she’d have to worry about that later. “What the hell are you cooking?” 

“First of all, we are black. Those two little sticks weren’t going to do anything in the first place. Can you please help me out and go get a few more boxes,” Karissa poked out her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. 

“You owe me,” Erik said, planting a kiss on Karissa’s lips before grabbing his keys and phone. 

“Love you,” she yelled before he shut the door. To stay on schedule she moved on to items on her menu that didn’t require butter. 

Once Erik returned with the sugar and butter, Karissa finished up dinner while Erik straightened up the space. “I’m tired as hell now. I hope they don’t stay over too long,” she complained, throwing herself on the sofa and putting her feet up on the ottoman. Erik returned the vacuum to the coat closet and joined his girlfriend before pulling a blunt out of his pocket. He lit it and offered it to Karissa after he took a long drag. “You must be nervous about meeting my folks?” 

“Nah,” he lied, leaning his head against the wall. Karissa stared at him until he chuckled, “Maybe a little.” 

“Awww, baby,” she sang, playfully pinching Erik’s dimpled cheeks. “Don’t be nervous, I told my dad to leave the gun at home.” Karissa joked ,earning a side eye from her boyfriend. 

“I ain’t never met a girl’s family so I must be doing something right, huh,” he added, reaching over to grip Karissa’s thigh. Even after almost a year of dating, those butterflies still formed in her stomach from his touch. 

“I guess. You’re cute, that helps you out a bit,” she teased, passing the blunt to Erik and resting her head on his shoulder. “I’m worried about my grandmother flirting with you though. Whatever she says, ignore it.” 

“Damn, is grandma a cougar? You better watch out baby, I may be leaving you behind if grandma’s mac n cheese is hittin,” Erik replied, catching Karissa’s hand as she attempted to slap his arm. “I’m joking, damn!” 

One hour later, the family of five had arrived at Karissa’s small townhouse. Her father, mother, two baby sisters, and grandmother were all standing in the dining room when Erik appeared. They had been wanting to meet him ever since Karissa returned to Chicago glowing and smiling all over the place. Her sisters had been stalking his social media, showing their mother pictures when Karissa had nicely asked them not to.

“This must be Erik,” Mrs. Thomas said, grinning from ear to ear. Mr. Thomas was right behind her, thinking up some questions to pester Erik. 

“Nice to meet you Mrs. Thomas,” he extended his hand but Karissa’s mother pulled him into a hug. 

“We hug around here,” she hummed, stepping aside to let Mr. Thomas meet his daughter’s boyfriend. “Now be nice, Charles,” the wife warned, patting her husband on the chest. 

“How ya doin’, son? I’m Charlie, Karissa’s dad aka Protector,” the father greeted the 5′11, muscular man with a sturdy handshake. 

“Nice to finally meet you, sir,” Erik said, trying to hold his laughter when Karissa rolled her eyes dramatically. 

“I don’t see how your little fine self hasn’t knocked up my grandbaby. Honey, you did good, Nana approves,” the matriarch of the Thomas family blurted out, not caring about her granddaughters hiding their faces in embarrassment. “Come here, baby.” Erik followed her instructions and stepped into Grandma Thomas’s tight hug. Karissa and her sisters couldn’t help but shake their heads at their grandmother’s lack of filter. 

Erik then introduced himself to the twin sisters who were suddenly acting shy like they hadn’t been snooping on his page months ago. 

“Alright, enough of the hugs and kisses, I’m ready to eat,” Karissa announced, clasping her hands together loudly. Her family followed her to the dining room, still gushing over Erik. Well, everyone minus Mr. Thomas who liked to play the tough role. 

“So, Mr. Stevens, do you have any family in town,” Charlie questioned, passing the greens to his wife. 

“No, it’s just me. My parents died when I was a kid and I don’t know of anyone else,” he said, Karissa could detect a hint of sadness but let her father continue when Erik squeezed her hand under the table. 

“Oh wow, I’m so sorry sweetie,” Mrs. Thomas said, holding her chest in sadness. “Well, I’m glad you could join us for dinner.” 

“Me too, I normally spend the holidays working,” Erik explained. “But Karissa told me she was cooking and I couldn’t miss out on that. Right, baby?” 

“Meh, I’m not all that but I got a little something from my mama,” she bragged, flipping her braids. “But I think me promising that apple pie was what got him here. No one can pass up Grandma’s famous pie.”

“There’s more than enough for you, honey,” Grandma replied with a smile. “Looks like you work out a lot so be careful, it’ll pack a few pounds on you.” 

Erik placed a hand on his stomach, “From what Karissa says, I think it’s worth it.” 

“Yeah, if she doesn’t eat the whole thing herself,” Tamia, one of the twins, voiced. “Those pies never stayed in our house for more than one day.” 

“Hush, I saved everyone a piece,” Karissa snapped back, sticking her tongue out at her sister. 

The family continued teasing each other about the famous pie until Mrs. Thomas interrupted the conversation to ask Karissa about her schooling. Suddenly, the mood changed because everyone already knew how much pressure Mrs. Thomas put on her children about school. “How’s Nursing school coming along. I haven’t heard you talk about it since school started back up,” she questioned. 

The truth was, Karissa was no longer in Nursing school and had dropped out earlier in the semester to change her major. Prepared for a big argument, Karissa put her fork down. “Um...I....I’m actually not in Nursing school anymore.” 

The twins gasped, “Girl,” Tonya put her fork down, ready for the blow up that was bound to happen. 

“Karissa! We pay your tuition to send you through the Nursing program. It’s one of the best in the country,” Mrs. Thomas exclaimed, her voice going up an octave. 

“It’s not for me, mama. Would you rather me flunk out or do what makes me happy? I’ve always been into theater and I could go far with it if I-”

“Theater? You think we pay for you to major in something that might not take you anywhere? Do you know how many people actually make it into the industry,” she continued, suddenly losing her appetite. 

“Baby, she’s doing what makes her happy. That’s all that matters, nursing isn’t for every one,” Charlie added, giving his daughter his approval. 

“But it’s all she ever wanted to do as a kid!” 

“Now, Trice, you know that’s what YOU always wanted her to do. This child was putting on shows and dancing everywhere when she was a baby. You ignored that and pushed her into Nursing because you wanted that for her,” the grandmother called her daughter out, causing Mrs. Thomas to wipe her mouth and get up from the table. 

“I’m not about to sit here and let you all gang up on me. I want the best for my child,” the mother complained, glaring back and forth between her husband, oldest daughter and mother. “Do what you want, but I hope you know what you’re doing, Karissa.” 

The table went silent again as Trice walked outside the front door to get some peace of mind. 

“Don’t worry about her, she’ll get over it,” the grandmother voiced, patting her granddaughter’s hand. “Do what you love.” 

The twins went back to eating as Charlie shook his head at his wife’s antics. She was a complete control freak when it came to her children. All of them worked to please their mother but Karissa decided to finally take control of her own life. Her mother meant well though. 

Clearly upset, Karissa began clearing the table and taking used dishes to the kitchen. Erik decided to help instead of sitting in the awkward silence in the dining room. “I’m sorry about that back there. She stays trying to control my shit,” Karissa apologized, taking plates from Erik and putting them by the sink. Hot tears burned in the corner of her eyes. This was frustrating. Theater and performing in general had been her life throughout her childhood. Like today, her mother told her it would be hard to enter the industry so Karissa majored in Nursing. Now she had enough courage to chase her dreams and she was being shot down once again. 

“Aye, come with me for a second,” Erik offered his hand and led Karissa upstairs to the bathroom. He closed the door behind them and grabbea Klennex from the counter. “No need for you to apologize to me. Trust, I’ve seen way worse happen at family dinners. One of my boys’s had his sex tape released at a family New Year’s Eve party. Don’t fret,” Erik laughed, wiping a few of his girlfriend’s tears. “Like your grandma said, do what you love. You know I have you back so that’s not a problem.” 

Karissa sat on the counter, Erik quickly stepping between her legs. “You know I got you, right,” he repeated, this time leaning into her lips. She nodded, tears still clouding her vision as Erik’s lips touched hers. “Hmm,” he moaned, his tongue slowly melting into Karissa’s. 

“Erik...we...they’re right downstairs,” she groaned as Erik attached his mouth to the sweet spot of her neck. “Erik,” she repeated, this time it came out as a moan instead of the stern tone she was attempting to use. But her protests were ignored when Erik locked the bathroom door and continued the assault on her neck and collarbone. 

“We won’t get caught if you don’t get loud,” he warned, reaching under her pleated skirt and pulling her underwear down to her ankles. “Think you can do that?” 

“Hell no, E-fuuuuuuck,” Karissa squirmed when Erik’s thumb met her naked clit. He rubbed the nub while he kissed her, silencing any noise threatening to escape. “Just make this quick.” 

“Aight, I was about to be gentle with your little ass but since you wanted to rush me,” Erik teased, pulling Karissa off the counter and turning her so she was facing the mirror. Karissa assumed Erik was about to break her in two with how hard he was holding her hips,but surprisingly he entered her with a gentle push. She gripped the sink, watching Erik in the mirror. That smug smirk was on his face as he began to move his hips, plunging into her wetness and pulling back out. “Whatchu looking at me like that for,” Erik asked, placing a supporting hand on Karissa’s lower back. 

“Because you’re trying to be romantic and shit,” she replied, whining her hips in sync with Erik’s rhythm. “I know you want to fuck my shit up, don’t you?” 

When she got like this usually Erik would shut her up and fuck her hard like she wanted. “Nah, because your ass can’t be quiet. I don’t want your dad coming up here to take me out,” he pressed, pushing Karissa’s head to the marble countertop. 

A loud moan escaped her lips, causing Erik to shush her as he continued digging into her tightness. His warm flesh tapped her’s over and over, creating a light slap paired with their low grunts. “Shit, Erik,” Karissa’s whispered, unable to keep her hips moving when Erik held them in place.

 A knock at the door made them both jump, “Who in there,” grandma Thomas shouted, frantically banging on the door. 

“Shit, shit,” Erik cursed, quickly pulling out and pulling up his sweatpants. “You don’t have a second bathroom in this bitch?” 

“No! Ugh, how are we gonna get out of here without her seeing you,” Karissa whispered loudly. 

“I gotta shit,” the grandmother yelled again. “That damn potato salad ran right through me.” 

“Looks like we are just going out together,” Erik shrugged, opening the door even with Karissa trying to keep it shut. 

“Well I’ll be damned, that’s where you two disappeared off to,” the elder exclaimed. 

Karissa and Erik pushed past her with their heads down in embarrassment and irritation. Neither one of them got a nut and now Grandma Thomas wouldn't let them live this down. 

“Mmmm, that’s the way you mess around and get knocked up. How you think your daddy got here? Me and Gerald had some moments in that bathroom. Whew chile,” she laughed, finally closing the door behind her. 

“I seriously didn’t need to know that,” Karissa gagged. 

“Maybe we can finish what we started in the backseat of my car? I thought I heard your dad ask about some icecream to go with that pie,” Erik suggested, raising a brow.

Thinking about it for a second, Karissa took off down the steps. “Daddy, did you mention icecream? We can go get some.” 

Merry Christmas, folks! 

[sicariusmeansassassin]

Welcome to adulting with Karissa, my church has these flat stir sticks for coffee and I accidentally sucked on one today and realized that it works like a straw so now I’m blowing bubbles in my coffee because I’m actually a child.