#extract from my journal

[ramblingsfromthytruly]

extract from my journal #??

I think if [my parents] had another child, that child would've had a better relationship with them. I think my parents would've learned from the mistakes they made with me, and I think that hypothetical sibling of mine would grow up looking at me and know what not to be. I think if I was my own older sister I would look at myself and see exactly what not to be.

[shershayariaayi]

There is something comforting about a bookstore being placed on a busy street. It is like having a white piece being surrounded by black pieces in chess; like that one kid quietly eating their lunch while being surrounded by kids who are running, screaming and creating chaos. It is like being on a crowded beach with noise cancellation earbuds. It’s being different in the midst of commoners yet somehow not so different that everyone starts noticing you.

- z.t. (Extract from a story I want to finish)

taglist: @curseofaphrodite

[finalgirljesus]

what i wouldn't give to be lounging naked in a deck chair basking in the summer sun while drinking a cool glass of milk with my good buddy franz kafka . and i dont even like milk

[thepositiveturtleblog]

I guess moving out and living on your own you come to realise that we are all just people trying to figure it out. Judging someone based on them living their life trying to figure shit out Is a dick move in and of itself.

[pinkyjulien]

Dragon Age: The Veilguard

▶ Extracted Asset Drive Folder

Recently finished my first DAV playthrough and wanted to get my hands into the files 🤚 so just like I did with CP77, I put up little google drive folder with extracted assets! Made possible thanks to the Frostbite Modding Tool ◀

OBVIOUS Spoiler warning - I don't recommend looking at the files until you're done with the game's main story!

I wasn't able to grab everything just yet as the majority of assets aren't fully accessible yet (corrupted/missing data). Expect some extracted assets to have some artifacts as well!

But you can already find:

HUD elements

Codex entries's full art

CC, Map, Journal Icons

...and more!

Every elements has been sorted in folders for an (hopefully) easy browsing - I'll try to keep this drive updated :3

▶ THIS IS FOR PERSONAL USE ONLY!

You can use the assets for your videos, thumbnails, character templates, art, mods... but do NOT use these assets for any commercial purposes! Every assets and files are the property of Bioware and their artists

This is from a fan for fans, let's keep it fair and fun! 🙏

If you appreciate my work consider supporting me on Ko-Fi 💜

[amourcheol]

blurring the lines (teaser)

❝Why learn the complexities of desire all by yourself, when your dearest friend can merely teach you?❞

bridgerton! au | friends with benefits! au | smut, fluff | approx. 30k words (1.6k words for teaser)

s u m m a r y : you think you know everything about your best friend, dashing bachelor joshua hong. when you stumble upon his suggestive literature from his recent travels, however, reading even an extract is enough to make you question everything. unsure of your newfound feelings, you turn to your confidante, unaware of just how much knowledge—and experience—he has to offer.

c o n t e n t : best friend! joshua, best friend! soonyoung too, references of real erotic literature from the 1700s because this is not an amourcheol fic without historical accuracy, references of other members, lady whistledown will be present, soonyoung is the real mvp in this fic, shua acts like a man </3 mature warnings -> tons of sexual tension, making out, fingering, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex (regency protection is goofy mb), mc experiences crazy overstimulation, corruption kink (!!!), more tba

a u t h o r ' s n o t e : bonjour hola bridgerton s4 sneak peak dropped which means i ofc had to drop a sneak peak of my own !! even tho i am over a week late !! send an ask if you wish to be tagged! hope you enjoy the teaser ;)

playlist | series masterlist | main masterlist

"WHERE DID YOU FIND THIS?"

Involuntarily your eyes flickered to the table, and he followed, turning his head to the study, which he noticed immediately was tidied—tampered with. "You went through my things?”

“I did not mean to!” you exclaimed, gaping at his sudden charge towards the desk, you hot at his heels. “I just thought it looked like a mess, so I tried cleaning it—”

“You are not a servant,” he cut off, darting over the new order of his account books, as well as the fiction which you had assembled. “You are not required to look after me like that.”

“I know, but—”

“And sneaking out with my possessions? Without my permission?” He smacked the book on the table, making you flinch. “I thought you better than that.”

You were better than that—well, at least until tonight. You ransacked your mind for an excuse, any form of escape, except your words were absolutely pathetic. “You have never minded me reading your novels before,” you attempted. “In fact, you encouraged me to scour your shelves.”

He looked at the book again—a moment too long—and went back to set a slight glare upon you. “Well, my journal is not a trivial novel. It was private…not meant for you.”

You knew that. What did not settle well, though, was that your dearest friend, who had shared his every worry, his every confession to you, had been doing things you had no inkling of, things that incited such…extraordinary feelings from you. 

You had to know what more lay in those pages—and why you had felt the way you felt in those pages which your eyes did scour. “I read it.”

His glare faltered. “How much?”

That question was answered with another. “What was it, Joshua?” You stepped forward, a timid gesture, so you could catch a look at the hardback again. “I…I read some pages, and…what was she doing?”

His hand on his journal pushed it back. “I do not know.”

“Liar,” you got out, and he pursed his lips. You knew him irritatingly well. “You are keeping things from me.” 

“It is not keeping things from you,” he countered, frustration rising in his voice. “It is…protecting you from those…things.” 

“Tell me what those things are, Joshua,” you demanded, quietly but not softly. “It has rattled you enough. That has never happened to you.”

But he was silent. Eerily quiet, merely the rustle of his clothes, the soft thunk of his novella settled back with the French novels which raised your suspicions. A boundary made—a rejection established. 

Perhaps you would have respected it in another lifetime—in a world where you had not indulged your curiosity, set your eyes upon entities which were not for you to explore. Perhaps you would have respected it even if Joshua had offered to enlighten you—maybe blushed and ran away, and vowed never to look through his possessions again. 

The writings had rattled you, though, more than he realised. Social etiquette—good common sense would have expected you to respect his opinion, opinions of society, and drop the subject. 

Joshua Hong, however, was your greatest friend. No societal expectation could change that. 

So you opted to push the limits. Refuse the silence to be the end of this matter.

“I read enough, you know. To feel…” A pause. “I cannot even describe to you how I felt, because I have never felt that way before.” You tried to find the right words, a single confession out of order and he would stop listening—or so you thought. “There was an extract you wrote, Joshua, which had certain…descriptions…” Burning. Pleasure. Naked. Fire. Ecstasy. “There was a girl who was doing something. I am unsure what she was doing specifically, but…what she felt watching them…”

A soft exhale released from you, and almost instinctively Joshua released his own breath. “I think I…um, I think I felt a remnant of it.” 

He blurted out, barely a whisper, “You what?”

You looked at him—barely managed a nod. “I do not…don’t even know what she was doing with her fingers—” Joshua’s sudden coughing interrupted you, holding a fist to his lips to stop himself—“But whatever it was…I want to know what it was.” 

You watched the man stay deathly still, yet the emotions racing behind his face were certain. Not only were you rattled, but had passed this strange sensation to him. Had he never felt it before? You wondered, surprised by the similarity of his reaction to yours. 

He then responded to you, and you realised your mistake. “You cannot.”

Another boundary. Another opportunity to cross it. “Why?” This time, you stepped closer to him. “Why can I not know?” He was silent once more, and this time, you would not accept it. “Why are you hiding from me?”

“Because you are a lady!” he finally cut out, an agitated sigh coming straight after. “You are not to know such…such material.”

A lady…that you were aware of, but that still did not answer the question. Joshua watched, Joshua did whatever he had done to a lady. The answer was not good enough.

Judging by the increasing agitation in your friend’s countenance, he knew it too. It was at that point, though, when you truly noticed his harsh sighs, the tight fists—one at his mouth now trudging to the table, and the other secured at his hip—figure rigid. How affected he was by your questioning.

As if he mirrored the same sensations as you experienced.

“Is it…” You pursed your lips. “Is it because you were feeling them too?” 

A blink back—the only recognition of shock. You held onto this, continuing, “Tell me the truth, Joshua. You said yourself, no? That a lady cannot know, but you did not say a gentleman cannot either. You were feeling it too, were you not?”

His eyes were widening with your every word, and he stepped back, almost as if to run away. You did not need an answer from him now—it was abundantly clear that he had undergone such passions, as if it was not certain as you read it. There was only one question left in your arsenal now.

Joshua could have collapsed to the study floor. He heard the questions, and suddenly all he could do was gape at you. The determined curiosity in your eyes, the resolute stature of your body, closer than he last remembered. Oh, he would die before answering such a thing to you. He could not. He could not. 

“_____, it is late,” he began after a long time. The slight hope on your face leaving instinctively dampened his spirits. “It is already rash that you came here without a chaperone and I refuse to let you become the centre of ill conversation.”

And there it was. The supposed end. 

You did not realise how disappointed you were until you found your voice again, much graver than you expected. “So that is how it will be.”

Fine. If your best friend would not entrust you with such information, you would find the next person who would not be so apprehensive. A fortunate situation that you already had a man in mind.

As you turned on your heel, you heard him ask, “Where are you going?”

You did not stop your walk away, looking over your shoulder as you retorted, “To Soonyoung. At least he will be honest with me, if you choose not to be.”

He must have said something, but you did not deign to hear, only looking to the door, which was slightly ajar. You held your hand out, ready to open it further. 

Another force—another hand, larger than yours, slammed the door shut, jumping you out of your skin. Quickly you swivelled to see Joshua, breathing slightly uneven as his hand stayed right beside your head, resting against the wood. “Good God,” you got out, “What was that for?”

“You cannot go to Soonyoung,” he said instead, gaze frantic. 

You furrowed your brows. “Why?” 

He frowned. He could tell from your irritation that you assumed it was jealousy, a worse morphing of cowardice. It was not jealousy—nothing like that. Soonyoung was like a brother to him, and he knew that if there was anyone else you could have gone to without eliciting scandal, then it was that eccentric. He would explain everything to his friend, and be done with it without furthering his own curiosity. 

With that in mind, he would also tell you everything. Joshua was aware that there were skeletons in the closet of such matters, and your door was already slightly ajar. Should you go to Soonyoung to seek counsel, he would break down the doors, and suffocate you with the bones of such sensitive information.

What you asked was no normal feat. What you asked was sensitive. Precious. Soonyoung was trustworthy, but he was not careful. 

Joshua, on the other hand, was careful. Very careful, if he thought so himself. 

“He would not…explain it properly,” he offered instead. 

“At least he will explain it,” you countered, twisting your mouth. “I’d rather something than nothing at all.” 

His brows knitted together, desperation rising. “You have to understand me, _____.”

“Not after this.” You tried to avert his gaze, but his eyes—for the very first time—were incredibly hard to ignore. “Let me out the door.”

His reply, although perturbed, was clear. “I cannot.”

“Then tell me, Joshua,” you demanded. “Tell me what she was doing.” 

He should have stayed silent forever. What he should have done—as a gentleman, as you yourself had deemed him—was keep his mouth shut. 

A semblance of his sanity slipped once he uttered the fated words.

“She was touching herself.”

s e r i e s t a g l i s t : @hyuckworld @smiileflower @ourkivee @alyssa19123456 @xylatox @lexyraeworld @fancypeacepersona @tjjth @zezedoesshit @ochidize @sankriin @okiedokrie-main @reiofsuns2001 @gyuguys @livixxn @livelaughloveseventeen @peepeepoopooharrie @shinaely @uhdrienne @maple249

[the-other-art-blog]

Violet to Colin: "You're one of my most sensitive children."

The fandom: "How can she say that! Anthony, Benedict bla, bla bla..."

Colin is ONE of her most sensitive children. ONE, just ONE of them. And she's right.

ONE OF HER MOST SENSITIVE CHILDREN

He was the only one who indulged Violet and let her introduce him to debutantes in s1, while Anthony fucked his mistress and Ben went to orgies.

He was a complete gentleman with Marina. AND defended her when Anthony implied something about her.

And when he learned the truth, he confessed that he would have married her if she had told him the truth. 🥹

He danced with Pen after Cressida bullied her.

He wrote dozens of letters that his family of 8 could not care to respond to often. There are 8 of them!

He worried about Ben in s2 and supported him on his application to the Academy.

He learned the truth of Jack Featherington and instead of simply leaving, he did something about it. Not only did he help the Featherington family, but he saved other lords from being scammed.

He apologized to Will, explained why he acted rudely AND made amends to repair the damage by bringing men to Will's club.

He returned with gifts for everyone, but he seemed particularly thoughtful to his sisters and mother. A perfume for Hyacinth, music for Francesca, and a book for Eloise 🥹. Violet was so moved by his gift and here we have a lovely headcanon on the watch:

Then with Pen...

He runs after Pen, despite other men wanting to know about his adventures.

He acknowledges his mistake and immediately tries to apologize to Pen in the Four Seasons Ball.

The next day, he comes back with a heartfelt apology.

Then, he offers her help, despite the risk of scandal and embarrassment for him. He knows Pen has no one else.

He goes to see Pen at night to make sure she's ok. And when she asks him for a kiss, he does it so sweetly.

He is brave enough to leave the men who just want to know about his sexual life.

HE WAS BRAVE ENOUGH TO ASK, as soon as he put himself together and understood his feelings. He didn't play jealousy games like others, he went and put his heart on the table. He didn't even know about Pen's feelings and he risked it!

Some extracts from Colin's journals show that his family is always in his thoughts.

You can see why Violet, as the good mother that she is, can tell how sensitive he is.

Colin travels during the summer and comes back during the season to be with his family. It angers me that people think he's selfish for this when Benedict also abandons the family to fuck.

And yet, both Colin and Ben are sensitive. BOTH OF THEM, Francesca too. I wouldn't call Hyacinth or Gregory sensitive right now, and before s3, I wouldn't include Eloise either.

Anyway, I needed to get this out because I am so fucking tired of Kanthonies and Benophies making tantrums about this line.

I'm sure when s4 comes, we are going to see a moment between Violet and Ben where she acknowledges how amazing he is and everything he has done for the family. But not now, because this is COLIN'S SEASON.

(NOTE: If you are thinking of reblogging this post with the tag #Colin is the most sensitive, kindly fuck off. I made this post to fight the Kanthonies and Benophie that are attacking Colin, not to validate your own need to make Colin superior to other characters. HE IS ONE OF THE MOST SENSITIVE CHILDREN, ONE)

[screechingdefendorpuppy-blog]

My Dearest Sevika..

some more of my Hcs for Marine!Sevika and wife reader. added these as reblogs but wanted to post as their own so more people could find it and enjoy.

Bonus cuz I keeping day dreaming

• she send you a polaroid where she is wearing her new scarf along with her uniform.

• once you witness a police raid at your neighbors house and you wrote her about it. She devours that entry to the journal imagining how you would tell her. Giving it more of a dramatic flare spilling some of your chai.

• you send her a recent photo of you and buck (your dog). She keeps it on her at all times right along with the very first photo you sent her when yall started dating. Its a lil faded but she cant get herself to part with it.

• her squad always tease her when she gets her care package. All in good fun! However they will give her space so she can enjoy reading the journal.

•she always shares the baked goods with them. And some gossip that you tell her about.

•your journal entries have made the distance between you bearable. Unbeknownst to you, your entries not only keeps her moral high but the whole squads as well.

And the angst starts now!

• you are currently writing an entry in your journal to sevika telling her about daily life, Your class shenanigans and your new next door neighbors and their mute daughter.

•how you babysit her while they have their weekly date night and she is teaching you sign to be able to communicate better

•You are so into writing you dont notice the car that park in the curb. Or the two soldiers that step out of it.

• suddenly the sunlight is interrupted by a shadow making you look up and come face to face with…Ran

• you first notice the sling on her arm and the scratches on her face. Shes in uniform and…. You breath stops, your pulse takes over your senses

•Rans lips move but its doesnt make any sense.. convoy…extraction….ambush… Sevika.

•Its a good thing you were already sitting cuz you are sure that your legs would’ve given out.

• Captain Sevika has been declared KIA.

(Small Time skip)

• you feel empty, just like the casket that was buried two months ago.

• the journal has since stayed untouched.

•two months of tears, of pain from an invisible wound. Two months of trying to sleep in a bed that feels way to big and cold. A house to big and cold.

•your neighbors jinx and ekko keep an eye on you daily. Coming over with isha for family dinner every night since the funeral.

•its been hard but you are trying to move forward. To be the resilient woman Sevika had fallen in love with.

•but it was hard, not been able to talk to her, to see her, to hear her. Was taking a toll on you

• till one Friday you hear a knock at the door at mid day.

•you open it to reveal isha brandishing her medal and trophy for her school science project.

• she runs inside signing away excited to tell you all about it.

•you smile as you follow along to her story about the fair and how her experiment went off without a hitch.

• finally isha finishes her rambling looking at you with pride. Then you watch as her expression falls into a shy look but s small smile still present.

• “can we…” she stops mid sign second guessing herself

• "can we what hun?" You ask her encouraging her to tell you.

•she takes a deep breath before she signs… “can we tell sevika about it?”

• your heart stops “ t-tell sev…(you clear your throat) tell sevi about your science fair?”

• isha nods her head and looks at you waiting.

• tear prickle your eyes but you smile. They fall down your cheeks as you look at the lil girl and say “I think thats a great Idea.”

• after retrieving the journal you both walk over to the dining table and sit side by side.

• you open the journal to an empty page and poise yourself ready to write for the first time in two months. In that moment you start what you call your road to healing as you start your entry with three simple words.

“My Dearest Sevika….”

[wrizard]

wrizard's super basic guide to y-chromosome-based identification!!

for those interested, on this fitzcovery day:

a dear friend asked me to explain why i felt completely insane about the phrase "genetic distance of one" and, as usual, i got overexcited and wrote an entire thing about it complete with goofy images! it's on twt HERE, but i figured it would also be nice to pop it up here also. SO. with the caveat that it has been many years since my last bio class and this is VERY OVERSIMPLIFIED. here's

Human DNA is grouped into chromosomes. We generally have TWO of each chromosome: 22 pairs (numbered 1-22), plus one pair of sex chromosome (typically either two X-chromosomes (XX), or one X-chromosome and one Y-chromosome (XY)). That's 23 pairs, or 46 chromosomes, in total.

When producing sex cells, matching chromosome pairs will RECOMBINE (swap bits of information) - eg. one Chromosome 4 will remix itself with the other Chromosome 4, making TWO UNIQUE C4s. When the cell splits into two sex cells, each sex cell will carry ONE unique C4.

That's sexual reproduction! Every new offspring is genetically unique - new combinations of traits pop up quickly, and if they improve reproductive fitness, can be passed on to future offspring. This allows for rapid adaptation and changes in a species over time.

But what about Y-chromosomes, which don’t have pairs? They can't recombine in the way paired chromosomes can - which means Y-chromosomes pretty much only change via mutation (errors in copying DNA). Mutation is VERY slow, especially compared to recombination.

This means that when an XY parent passes down their Y-chromosome to a child, chances are high that chromosome will have few, if any, changes – as opposed to X-chromosomes, which recombine in both XX parents and children, shuffling genetic information all over the place.

Due to this slow rate of change, Y-chromosomes can be more easily tracked through the generations than other human chromosomes. A Y-chromosome might be passed down nearly unchanged for hundreds of years from genetic father to genetic son.

GENETIC DISTANCE refers to the measurement of difference between two sets of DNA. The lower the genetic distance, the more closely related the two samples are likely to be. A genetic distance of 1 means the samples are close to identical.

Because we know how slowly Y-chromosomes change over time, we know that if the Y-chromosomes of two people have a low genetic distance, this implies that those people are paternally related – even if the two people live/lived hundreds of years apart.

In the case of Captain James Fitzjames, genetic data was extracted from a set of unidentified remains (a molar from a disarticulated mandible). 17 genetic markers from the molar’s Y-chromosome were compared to the Y-chromosome of a confirmed paternal relative of the Captain.

Those 17 markers were the same in both samples, giving the two Y-chromosomes a genetic distance of one – meaning, with the genetic information available, the living relative and the unidentified decedent are more than 2000 TIMES more likely to be paternally related than not.

EDIT: DOIP I MISREAD THE CHART 16 of 17 match, not all 17!!

Along with all the information we have from the historical record, the context of the remains, and this new comparative genetic analysis, we can safely conclude that this particular set of remains belong to Captain Fitzjames.

160 years isn't long in the grand scheme. Every identified set of remains is another reminder that these were people, not just a distant curiosity. It's humbling to remember not just that we have identified Cpt. Fitzjames, but that still, today, we have a genetic distance of one.

Photos and Y-chromosome comparison chart taken from Stephen, Fratpietro, and Park's paper "Identification of a senior officer from Sir John Franklin’s Northwest Passage expedition" from the Journal of Archaeological Science: https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2352409X24003766?via%3Dihub

hope my nonsense is helpful and/or informative and/or at least made you smile!! if you like this sort of thing :) cheers doves

[fatehbaz]

I'm very interested in tidalectics, I hadn't seen the word before finding your blog but from what I can find it seems very much up my alley. Is there anything you'd recommend reading for an introduction?

I use 'tidalectics' as a sort of shorthand for a constellation or archipelago (pun intended, lol) of related concepts maybe better described as 'archipelagic thinking' and 'poetics of Relation' by Edouard Glissant, 'repeating islands' by Benitez-Rojo/Brathwaite, and 'sea of islands' by Epeli Hau'ofa. I also use it for related things like Black Atlantic, 'Caribbeanist' thinking, 'oceanic thinking,' transnationalism, 'intimacies of four continents,' etc. Much of this deeply, deeply connected to Afro-Caribbean thinking and literature. Unsurprisingly. Comes up often in discussion of eco-poetics and the postcolonial. This discussion is kinda becoming vogue in environmental humanities ('blue humanities' and critical geography) and postcolonial studies, but this has of course been discussed for years and years and years by Caribbean and Pacific scholars, especially Glissant (Martinican/Caribbean), Brathwaite (Barbadian/Caribbean), Cesaire (Caribbean), and Hau'ofa (Tonga/Fiji/Pacific).

The Caribbean(ist) journal Small Axe has also been a big arena for discussing the concept. Two of my fave authors on colonial histories and multispecies ethnographies, Sujit Sivasundaram and Elizabeth DeLoughrey, also focus on oceanic/archipelagic thinking. Highly recommend those two. Another, Lizabeth Paravisini-Gebert, also covers Caribbean eco-poetics and frequently describes archipelagic thinking in accessible ways. You can search their names/publications for articles to read online. (Macarena Gomez-Barris--author of The Extractive Zone: Social Ecologies and Decolonial Perspectives--is currently working on a text about "fluidity of colonial transits and the generative space between land and sea.)

Heavily involves what you could describe as 'emotional ecologies' or 'environmental perception.' About the fluidity of tidal zones, the sea, mangroves, estuaries, deltas, seasonally flooded rivers. Very much about materiality of land/water/bodies, but also very much about imaginative place-making and belonging-in-space. Invokes centrality of ecology to place-making and identity. How these landscapes (tidal, seasonal, fluctuating, flowing) transcend, subvert, defy, exist beyond nation-state borders and bounded properties. Also implies transnational shared concerns of people inhabiting sacrifice zones and imperial peripheries (from Caribbean to Fiji to Philippines).

As intro, maybe:

Routes and Roots: Navigating Caribbean and Pacific Island Literatures (Elizabetth DeLoughrey), especially introduction chapter: "Tidalectics: Navigating Repeating Islands"

"Toward a Critical Ocean Studies for the Anthropocene" (Elizabeth DeLoughrey, English Language Notes 57:1, 2019)

"The Political Ecology of Storms in Caribbean Literature" (Sharae Deckard, The Caribbean: Aesthetics, World-Ecology, Politics, 2016)

At this blog, I've previously tried to summarize it by condensing excerpts here: DeLoughrey's "Submarine Futures"; Paravisini-Gebert's Caribbean eco-poetics of extinction; archipelagic thinking in South Pacific; Harney, Moten, and Sandra Ruiz discussing archipelagic and continental thinking; oceanic fugitivity and "thinking at the land-water boundary" in Hawaii; the "horror of the sea" and "environmental histories of colonialism" compared in Caribbean vs. English/US lit; the "hurricane does not roar in pentameter," poetics of storms, and "special geography of the Caribbean" which provides an overview of Caribbean writers on relation; the "Black Mediterranean" and contemporary archieplagic thinking relating to refugees/migration (a lot more too, but can't go through archives where I'm stuck right now).

-

Also has come to be provocative framework for thinking about non-literal islands. You'll see 'archipelago' also applied to other spatial and ideological formation things like 'carceral archipelagoes' and 'plantation archipelagos' and 'poverty archipelagos.' Basically, that US-European empire treated the Caribbean as a laboratory for how to isolate, contain, extract, commodify, and experiment on people, labor, land, industry, ecologies, etc. during instantiation of 'modernity.' (While Spain and Portgual played around with this in the Caribbean they also did something similar in the early modern spice gardens and ports of Southeast Asia, while Britain/France/US continued similar in both regions too. So archipelagos of both 'East' and 'West' brutalized.) Added weight because British and then later US naval force understood and capitalized on importance of oceanic networks to maintaining global empire (think British Navy; Lisa Lowe's writing on Britain importing Chinese and South Asian laborers to Caribbean during technical abolition of chattel slavery; US building Panama Canal; US naval force in twentieth century linking Philippines, Hawaii, Panama, Puerto Rico). You might've seen me talk about Kuntala Lahiri-Dutt and others writing on the history of British takeover of Bengal 1780s-1850s, and how the seasonality and deltas and rivers frustrated imperial attempts to fix and tax property; Elizabeth Povinelli describes this process of colonial fixation of 'solid' land in Northern Territory in Australia, too.

And these forms persist in extractivist settings and spatiality of labor, incarceration, industrial sites. Think Cancer Alley in Louisiana; archipelagos of Southeast Asian, West African, or Brazilian plantations along corridors of highways and railroads; low-income residential neighborhoods or 'workforce' housing compartmentalized along transportation corridors near logistics nodes; prisons in upstate New York; Commencement Bay's industrial sites and immigrant detention in Seattle-Tacoma, etc. Like hotspots or blinking lights along corridor. Australia, the US, and the EU all still use islands for migrant detention. At the same time, if global empire yokes together East and West, then empire's malcontents can perform the same trick. You can look at correspondences and writing from colonial subjects and radicals in like 1890s who explicitly described how anticolonial actors could and should also invoke transnational networks. (Linking networks in Buenos Aires, Havana, Los Angeles, Barcelona, Paris, Cairo, Istanbul, Tokyo, etc. And today still, too. Archipelagos of cooperation, not just on islands. What happens in a housing commune in Athens is related to movements in Puerto Rico, connected by defiance of same empire, market, capital, etc.

So since at least 1500-ish, 'globalized' world(s) involve circuits, networks, routes, often mediated by the sea. But people living on islands often have relationship with that sea long predating modernity. Glissant and others talk about a submarine/subterranean connecting tissue between islands, so that, even if they are apparently physically isolated or separated by Hispanophone/Francophone linguistic tradition, there is something akin, shared, in common.

But more than that: Relationality and relation to landscape asserts agency, autonomy, belonging. Especially with Glissant, this involves language, poetics, translation, reclamation of 'submarine' histories. Hau'ofa says "we are the ocean."

Maybe reminiscent of Indigenous resurgence, constellations of resistance, fugitivity, opacity/refusal, pedagogies of deep listening, maroons/marronage, resonances, and writers like Harney and Moten, Leanne Betasamosake Simpson, Achille Mbembe, Katherine McKittrick, Sylvia Wynter, Dixa Ramirez D'Oleo, and others.

-

Anyway, four classics:

The Arrivants: A New World Trilogy (Rights of Passage; Islands; Masks) (Kamau Brathwaite, 1973)

The Repeating Island: The Caribbean and the Postmodern Perspective (Antonio Beniteze-Rojo, 1989)

The Archipelago Conversations (Eduoard Glissant and Hans Ulrich Obrist, 2021)

We Are the Ocean: Selected Works (Epeli Hau'ofa, 2008)

-

And some others:

"Submarine Futures of the Anthropocene" (Elizabeth DeLoughrey, Comparative Literature 69:1, 2017)

Waves Across the South: A New History of Revolution and Empire (Sujit Sivasundaram, 2021)

"Archipelagic Interiority: Notes and Reflections on Poetic Voice and Trans Writing in the Philippines" (shane carreon, Kohl 9:1 Special Issue: Anticolonial Feminist Imaginaries, 2023)

"On the Unfolding of Edouard Glissant's Archipelagic Thought" (Michael Wiedorn, Karib-Nordic Journal for Caribbean Studies 6:1, 2021)

"Wet Ontologies, Fluid Spaces: Giving Depth to Volume through Oceanic Thinking" (Philip Steinberg and Kimberley Peters, Environment and Planning D: Society and Space 33:2, 2015)

"New Materialisms, Old Humanisms, or, Following the Submersible" (Stacy Alaimo, NORA-Nordic Journal of Feminist and Gender Research)

"Sensing Grounds: Mangroves, Unauthentic Belonging, Extra-Territoriality" (Natasha Ginwala and Vivian Ziheri, e-flux Journal Issue #45, May 2013)

"Storied Seas and Living Metaphors in the Blue Humanities" (Serpil Oppermann, Configurations 27:4, 2019) and Blue Humanities: Storied Waterscapes in the Anthropocene (Edited by Serpil Oppermann, 2023)

Hydrofeminist Thinking with Oceans: Political and Scholarly Possibilities (Edited by Tamara Shefer, Vivenne Bozalek, and Nike Romano, 2024)

"From the black Atlantic to the bleak Pacific: Re-reading "Benito Cereno"" (Alexandra Ganser, Atlantic Studies 15:2, 2018)

"Literary Ecologies of the Indian Ocean" (Hofmeyer, English Studies in Africa 62:1, 2019)

"Archipelagic Readings: towards a Poetics of Creolization" (Hugues Azerad, Trans-Revue de litterature generale et comparee, Special Issue: Insularities/Archipelagos, 2020)

"Water Enclosure and World-Literature: New Perspectives on Hydro-Power and World-Ecology" (Campbell and Paye, Humanities 9:106, 2020)

"A Poetics of Planetary Water: The Blue Humanities after John Gillis" (Sidney Mentz, Coastal Studies and Society, 2022)

"Tending the Forests Beneath Anthropocene Seas" (Williams and Zalasiewicz, in Oceans Rising: A Companion to Territorial Agency: Oceans in Transformation, 2022)

"Caribbean Archipelagos and Mainlands: Building Resistance against Climate Change" (Lizabeth Paravisini-Gebert, The Black Scholar 51:2, 2021)

Colonial Phantoms: Belonging and Refusal in the Dominican Americas, from the 19th Century to the Present (Dixa Ramirez D'Oleo, 2018)

"Oceanic Routes: (Post-it) Notes on Hydro-Colonialism" (Bystrom and Hofmeyer, Comparative Literature 69:1, 2017)

"Foreword: Ocean Space and the Marine Social Sciences" (McKinley, in The Routledge Handbook of Ocean Space, 2023)

"Atomic histories and elemental futures across Indigenous waters" (Hi'ilei Julia Hobart, Media + Environment 3:1, 2021)

"On Oceanic Fugitivity" (Hi'ilei Julia Hobart, Ways of Water series by Social Science Research Council, 2020)

Undrowned: Black Feminist Lessons from Marine Mammals (Alexis Pauline Gumbs, 2020)

"Materialities in the Making of World Histories: South Asia and the South Pacific" (Sujit Sivasundaram, Oxford Handbook of History and Material Culture: World Perspectives, 2020)

-

Thanks, take care.

[characteroulette]

Happy Layton Big Bang!!! @proflaytonbigbang !!

Here's my contribution: a whole new ukagaka to play around with!! (Grab them here!!)

Layton and Luke come with a few features --

Sit on your desktop and chat to themselves

Serve them a spot of tea! (Be careful not to jostle them)

Read through Luke's journal and get anecdotes from all their adventures!

A simple affection system!

Update functionality! So if they get more dialogue in the future, all you need to do is tell them to update and they'll grab it automatically!

Other ukagaka functionality (checking your email, deleting the files in your recycling bin, recognising certain files you drag and drop onto them)

And three whole shells! One made by the fantastic Danganny_art (Instagram) (X/Twitter) (check her post on it over here!!), the other made by @smooley (Instagram) (Itch.io) (coming soon!!)!! (I made the third but it was mostly for sprite sheet reference haha)

They come with their own unique balloon as well, made by @ageofzero!! It comes with designs from all 6 of the mainline games, so you can choose your favourite!

I have also posted all of their dialogue lines on ao3 in case you can't get ssp to work, though it's only the barebones dialogue from their release version.

Here's how to grab them --

Download SSP (you are looking for the ダウンロード button)

(as a note, SSP currently only runs on Windows. for solutions to a linux setup, check here!)

Make sure to place SSP in its own folder! Don't extract it directly onto your desktop and don't remove any of the files from its folder. Not even the application.

(You might have to add ssp to the exceptions on your virus protection software so it can run.)

Say hello to Emily (the cat girl)! She will always be there to greet you the first time you run ssp.

Download Layton and Luke's .nar! (You can download their balloon separately, but they come bundled with it so that's not necessary)

Drag Layton and Luke's .nar file onto Emily once she's finished speaking so she will install it.

(Alternatively, if you are having trouble with this, a .nar file is just another .zip, so you can grab the files from it and place it into a folder yourself! Make the new folder in the Ghosts folder of ssp's files (you will see Emily's folder in there!) (make sure to name it the same name as the .nar itself) and place all of Layton and Luke's files inside it!)

Then you can switch or call up Layton and Luke by right clicking on Emily and selecting them from the Switch Ghosts or Call Ghosts options! Simple as that!

Thanks so much for everyone involved!! Happy Layton big bang!!

[ramblingsfromthytruly]

i have always said that i would never have kids but i was a kid myself and a lot of kids do say that because they can't fathom the thought. i'm 15 now and yes i'm still a kid but i definitely do not ever want to be pregnant nor do i particularly crave kids, but i think if i do i'll adopt. maybe someone around the age of 10 or older because the older the kid the less likely they'll be adopted unfortunately. my mind may change in the future but one thing i know is if i ever do decide to adopt a kid, it won't be out of loneliness or because i'm "supposed to" but rather because i want to nurture a child into an adult and try to give them the means to succeed in life. if i ever adopt, it'll probably be a tad "later" in life than people usually expect. i want do something related to psychology and research. i'll probably end up getting a doctorate or something. if i adopt it'll probably happen during the last years, or after, my education. my parents certainly aren't the worst parents and i know they love me but they have made so many mistakes i know not to make. but they've also showed me a few traits i know creates a better parent. i don't think i will ever end up in a romantic relationship for the rest of my life. i'm not aro-spec (maybe demi idk) but i just don't see myself as the person who will end up with a typical happily ever after with a wife or so. but i still want romance, i know i don't need it though. maybe i'll end up in found family situation, that sounds appealing. the idea of marriage makes me uneasy, not the idea of a long-term romantic relationship but the legalities and the ceremonies and whatnot. maybe my mind will change as i grow and see more examples of married couples that aren't strictly stereotypical heteronormative indian parents. idk what i'm rambling about now but i remember not even a few months ago i couldn't even fathom the idea of being a mother. i am growing and learning more about myself and so my views change. not having kids or having kids, no decision is "better" than the other as long as it's true to your desires and wants and your capabilities. there is nothing i detest more than parents who had children they didn't want to have or didn't have the means to raise. people shouldn't be pressurised to have kids to check this imaginary box of an imaginary list of things that apparently constitute making your life "complete". there was no structure to this but oh well i'm most honest in these kinds of rambles.

[shershayariaayi]

In another timeline, I confessed to you. Whether you would’ve reciprocated or not, I’ll leave that up to you.

But in another universe I would have gathered the courage to tell you that for me you have hung the stars and planets in the sky. You are the sunrise I would not mind giving up my sleep for.

That loving you has become easier than breathing. That I imagined you whenever the poets and songs sung about worshiping someone to the level that everything yours automatically changes its ownership to your name.

That I am not ashamed or embarrassed to fall in love with my best friend. That I am not afraid to change myself for the better if it means I have the honour to communicate with you for however short or long time.

In another life, I would’ve professed to the one person it mattered the most: you.

- z.t. (Extract from a story I’ll never finish)

taglist: @curseofaphrodite

[laughtalelogs]

❄snow angel - sanji x reader❄

❄ day 1 - first snow, getting soaked, “your hands are so cold”  ❄ fandom/character(s) - one piece - sanji x reader ❄ warnings - fluff, no beta reader, use of terms like “princess” otherwise mostly gender neutral, no ending ❄ word count: 2.4k

this is the first day of the @12daysofchristmas challenge. this rushed asf and not edited. sorry no ending lmao, i had an ending in mind but If i stared at this any longer i was gonna bang my head against my keyboard :) tomorrow's zoro, so stay tuned! check out here to read more

The Sunny rocked in the gentle evening breeze, the sun retreated behind the horizon. Purple and orange hues stretched across the galley. A book laid heavy in your lap as you relaxed with the remnants of the crew after dinner. You had means to finish a chapter before you wound down. But, the rare, sweet peace made your body feel like lead. The soothing song of clinking dishes, muffled snoring, and soft scribbling filled the space with a cozy air. Since you joined the merry-band of pirates, you quickly learned that times of silence were few and far between. You wouldn’t dare disturb it. 

Nami hunched over her logbook next to you, charting a map with fervor. On the other side, Luffy rested on your shoulder. Food crumbs were scattered across his drooling mouth as he slept. Across the way, Sanji hummed a soft tune as he flitted around the room. The song pulled you in and with each note, you found yourself lost in thought, rereading the same words over again. 

From the corner of your eye, you felt the cook’s lingering gaze on you. Not that it bothered you; it gave you another reason to abandon your book. You both were playing a silent game 一 a game you had been playing for weeks. A game he was failing miserably at. 

Your eyes lock again for a moment, the darkened cerulean meeting yours with uncertain curiosity. 

You raised a playful brow, letting your eyes wander. His neck and jaw tightened, a splatter of red rising to his ears as his adam’s apple wavered in his throat. His tune faltered, and he quickly glanced away, fumbling with the cutlery he had in hand. You feel a chill run down your spine, trying to quell the trail of goosebumps on your arm. 

Nami let out a groan, looking at the porthole behind you. The wind rattled against the glass, and Luffy stirred, pressing closer to you for warmth.

"We're getting close to a winter island,” she announced, tapping her pen to the journal. "Expect snow in the morning."

 “Snow?” you felt your heart flip in your chest, excitement rising in your voice. “Like a lot of it?”

“...That’s right,” Nami smiled, pushing her glasses up the brim of her nose. “Should’ve remembered snow isn’t common for you.”

“Does frosted grass count?” you offer sheepishly.

Sanji chuckle grabbed your attention as he approached with a folded blanket tucked beneath his arm.

 “Here, you’ll be needing this, then,” He hands the soft fleece to you and you reach out, gentle fingers brushing yours. It was a quick, unassuming exchange. You stare at the crisp white linen of his shirt ruffled at the cuff, straining under his toned arm. 

 “I would hate to see you catch a chill,” He looks up at the ceiling, avoiding your eyes. He cleared his throat and whipped around, busying himself again. You mumble a weak ‘thank you’, ignoring how your fingers still burn from the feathered touch. You shimmy the warm fleece over you and Luffy’s shoulder. It smelled like smoked tobacco and vanilla extract, and you pushed the urge down to bury your nose in the fabric.

He turned to an unimpressed Nami. “Guessing soup or stew for tomorrow?” 

“Soup?” Your insatiable Captain groans in his sleep, a dazed smile playing on his drooling lips. 

Nami scoffed, rolling her eyes. A pen flies through the air and hits Luffy square between the eyes.

“Ow..! What was that for?” He croaked blearily,  rubbing his head.

“All you ever think about is food, I bet you were dreaming about it too.” She chides, closing her journal with a soft thud, collecting her things. “Come on, time for bed. Tell the others about the snow.”

“It’s snowing?!” Luffy boomed, soaring up, wide-eyed with joy. The blanket fell off your once-taken shoulder.

“Not now, later.” Nami re-iterated with annoyance. “Come on,”

“Night, you two,” “G’Night guys!”

And with that, the galleyway soon was draped in another tranquil silence. With how cold the temperature was dropping, you wouldn’t have been surprised if it was snowing right now. You pull the blanket towards you closer, brain racing with the promises of a new experience tomorrow. You had joined the straw hats out of desperation for adventure, to see the world for more than what your tropical island could offer. Now, it felt like it was finally paying off.

“Excited?” Sanji’s voice jerked you out of your thoughts. You look up, watching him polish spoons like second nature, blonde hair falling like golden silk in front of his eyes. 

“Uh- yeah, ” You mumbled into the fleece, burying yourself further. “I guess you say that,”

“Come on,” He throws the towel over his shoulder, voice low and teasing, “ indulge me, sweetheart.” 

Ignoring the way your stomach flips at the deep rumble of his voice, you give in. 

“I dunno, it’s just,” You admit, shifting in your seat, “There’s only so much reading you can do before you wonder what it would be, ya’know?” You stare down at the forgotten book, closing it and placing it on the table.

“I think I get what you mean,” The tenderness in his voice caught you off guard as he continued. “-beauty like that you can only witness in person, no words would do it justice,” When you meet his kind gaze again, your mind goes blank, and you have to remember how to breathe.

“S-so true,” You cleared your throat, mouth impossibly dry. “Well, u-uh, let me get ready for bed, I want to be the first one up!” You jumped up, the blanket forgotten on the bench as the pen in your lap clattered to the ground. You scuttled quickly out the galley way with a rushed ‘good night!’, leaving Sanji as the last one standing. 

Sanji blinked, and sighed, staring at the door where you had left. His shoulders drooped low at the brief, sweet moment. He fished in his pocket for a cigarette, shaking his head.  He lit the cigarette and watched hot smoke curl in the cool air. He lets his mind wander to the promise of tomorrow, the promise of seeing you again. 

“Goodnight, Princess.” He murmured out to the empty room. 

-

That chilly night you tossed and turned. Even as your body thrummed with hot adrenaline, you shivered. As much as you tried to bundle yourself deeper into your blankets, the cold seeped into your bones. Your nose and cheeks burned from the chill. You stared out the porthole, watching the clear black of night until you drifted off to sleep.

-

You wake up with a start. Bright white light shines in, and you look over at the others, who are still fast asleep. Nami’s soft snores and Robin’s even breathing are muffled by their blankets. You slowly peel the covers away, hissing at the cold that bites your skin. Excited breaths plume in the air like smoke, as you tip-toe slowly out the room. Opening the door, the sight blows you away, air escaping your lungs. You didn’t think it would be this magnificent. Soft snow covered the tops of everything in a thick layer of bright white made you squint. The rising sun shot gorgeous rays of yellow across the falling snow, sparkling in the morning light. 

An icy blast of cool wet air brushes past your legs and feet, and you quickly shut the door to not disturb the women sleeping. Your barren feet take their first steps onto the deck, and you barely can contain your excitement with each skip you take down towards mens quarters, you couldn’t be the only person to witness this. Thinking back to your conversation with Sanji last night, heat fills your body even as your toes begin to turn numb.

 Fresh footprints lead you to the door, and you quickly slip inside. enveloped in a loud chorus of groans and snores. You scan the room as your feet heat up on the solid wood. You tiptoed over Zoro and Chopper who huddled for warmth. Past Usopp and Luffy’s hammock, you looked for a tuft of blonde hair with no luck. You cursed under your breath. He must be up already, you thought. You turn behind, looking at your sleeping Captain. 

Guess he would do. You poke at his cheek softly.

“Pstt.. Luffy..” He groaned, swatting your finger away and turned over. You shake him this time, watching his head jostle around. “wake up, it's snowing, come o-��� 

“SNOW?!” His eyes shoot open, screaming at the top of his lungs. The rest of the cabin jumped up with a bewildered confusion. Before you could apologize, Luffy was grabbing Usopp by the nose and you by the wrist, pulling you out onto the deck.

-

You screamed as you skipped around the deck. The snow crunched under your feet, the frigid air biting your exposed skin as soaked in the new sensation. You squeal as you flounce around,the fresh snow upturned by each step.  

-

Sanji watched from the doorway curiously, and he couldn’t help the cheesy smile stretching his face. God, you were gorgeous like this, He thought. He watched you play in the snow with wonderment, Luffy and Usopp’s cheers muffled in the background. How could he deny himself with the pleasure of watching you? You were like a dream, something he was convinced he conjured in his brain to torture himself with. 

All night, he was awake, picturing your first moments in the winter, how you would glow against the snow. How the snowflakes would fall on your eyelashes, begging him to swipe them away.  He imagined would be able to provide you with warmth after a day of reliving your childhood anyway you needed him to, if you willed it. These thoughts plagued him well into the night, till the sun threatened to peek over the horizon as he watched out the port hole as it began to fog over with frost, too late into the morning to fall asleep. He rubbed his tired eyes, the sight of you absolutely vibrant with joy fueling his exhausted and needy heart. 

Even with his answered prayers, he couldn’t help but worry about your lack of clothes. Where the hell were your coat and shoes? He worried on his bottom lip, glancing at the ice bitten soles of your feet, trying to keep his eyes away from the way your shirt rode up with every leap forward.

 Had he been careless? He felt responsible for your lack of winter preparedness. His brows furled in worry as he watched you slip onto your back. 

His stomach dropped. He vaulted over the railing, dress shoes sinking into the frigid snow. With each determined flounce towards you, his socks became sodden with cold water.

 “You alright, gorgeous? Where’s your coat and shoes?” He flits above you nervously, his shallow breaths fogging in the crisp winter air. 

“You’ll freeze solid in this weathe-” He was cut off by your floaty laughter, his heart seized and banged rapidly against his ribs. 

“This is so much fun,” You laughed, arms outstretched as you made snow angels below him, beaming with happiness. “Join me Sanji!”

His brain was short-circuiting as he stood there with his mouth agape. Everything in his body wanted to get him into the snow next to you, to bury his hands into your side and roll around in the fluff, but looking at your bright red palms made him stop.

 “No, We need to get ready first, up you go,” He holds out a hand, and you whine in protest, but begrudgingly take his hand. He hisses at the soft cold hand, clasping it gently as he pulls you up. 

“Your hands are so cold...” He murmured. Without thought, he rubs your fingers softly in his hand, his curly eyebrows furrowing. A chill runs through your spine, but you feel like you're sweating at the soft touch. 

He slowly brings life back into your fingers as you stare in silence.His other hand catches yours and he cupped them gently, bringing them to his chapped, pink lips. They form into a soft ‘o’ as he exhales balmy, heavy breaths into your trembling fingers. Even with the winter that surrounded you, you were going to melt into the deck of the Sunny if he continued. You squeeze your eyes shut and look away. It was all too much. 

You squirm under the touch, but don’t pull away. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Yes I do,” He shakes his head, cheeks dusting pink, “Wouldn’t want any of these pretty fingers to freeze and fall off, right?” You don’t respond, staring at your feet. He always had a way with words that left you speechless. His gaze follows your, smacking his teeth. 

“You’re killing me,” He sighed, before dropping your hands, “Up you go,” With a swift movement, your frozen feet are swept off the ground. You let out a small noise of protest, but quickly wrapped your arms around his neck. 

“But the others-” 

“-Are complete idiots. You can come back out here later when you have appropriate winter clothes.” He made quick, determined strides towards the galley door swinging it open. Sweltering heat embraced you as he placed you on the bench, the smell of tomato and garlic wafting in the air. 

“Let's warm up and dry off first. I’ll make you hot chocolate, too.” He rambled, clasping his hands together as he scanned the room, “Or would you rather have cider? You think on that,  I’ll be back in one minute, my little snow angel.”

As quick as he leaves, he’s back again, shutting the frigid air out. “I brought a towel, a change of clothes, and a spare coat. Nami picked them out, don’t worry, I didn’t want-” 

“Someone’s mothering me right now,” You finally cut him off.

You watch his windburned face twist in embarrassment. “Someone has to, don't they?”

“And that someone should be you?” You tease with no bite in your words, but shift uncomfortably in your seat. The more you warmed up, the more you were hyperaware how your soaked t-shirt clung to your back, dripping onto your legs. 

You weren’t the only one who had notice, when a towel was shoved quickly in front of your face. Sanji’s eyes glued to the ceiling. You take it, wiping and patting yourself dry from the melted snow. 

what a weird way to end a fic ik i suck for it, but I got pretty uninspired there at the end. I have so many ideas but I suck at the romance sometimes. I used to rp a lot eons ago when I was a teenager and am just really trying to gain confidence in my writing again after that trauma, iykyk LMAO

I dunno if i’ll come back to edit this or finish my idea. Let me know if you liked it though!

wanna read more? check out my other fics (x)

[zablife]

Becoming Mrs. Shelby (Part 20)

Tommy x wife reader

Summary: You race against the clock to find something that will help Tommy, but you must face Mary first.

Part 19 Masterlist

The moment the car returned to Arrow House, your feet flew up the stairs. Eyes darting anxiously down the hall for any sign of Mary, you breathed a sigh of relief at the silence that greeted you. Continuing on to the library, you wasted no time attempting to open the mahogany bureau which had once belonged to Grace.

In vain hope of finding one miraculously unlocked, your fingers fumbled against the cool metal of a brass handle. When it did not open, you moved onto the others without success, beginning to despair as they all remained shut tight against your prying. For a moment you considered the force it would take to break one and you stifled a grunt of exertion as you leveraged your full weight against the bottom drawer. Losing your grip, you tumbled to the ground with a thud, wishing you had a copy of the key.

You knew as well as Tommy that Mary held the only set of master keys in the house, a vast collection crowded onto a ring she kept fastened at her side. How would you be able to get at it? It would be impossible without waiting until she fell asleep and stealing it from her room.

As you briefly considered enlisting Clara's help with the theft, your eyes drifted to a nearby clock realizing that plan would take time you didn't have. Finally your eyes rested upon the sterling silver letter opener on the desk. You wouldn't need a key if you picked the lock, you convinced yourself.

Without a clue as to what you were doing, you slid the pointed end into the keyhole, carefully listening for a change in the hollow clinking sounds produced by your prodding. Then, to your great amazement, the letter opener hit upon a latch that freed the drawer instantly. With a tiny squeal of delight, you reached in to extract the manila folders hidden in its depths before repeating the same steps to empty the desk of its contents.

Eagerly flicking through the mountain of paperwork, you skimmed over the pages as quickly as possible, but you fell into confusion over the multitude of names and organizations. You found papers referring to the "Economic League," the "Oddfellows" and one from the "Vigilance Committee." You weren't sure how it was all related until you compared recurring names of business men, MPs and Army officers, realizing they were one and the same with Section D.

Grace appeared to have corresponded with them regularly, providing information about Shelby Co. Limited and Tommy's general whereabouts. She had faithfully recorded all she knew in the pages of a small, red journal before being typed into reports. Most importantly, you uncovered replies from Father Hughes himself, outlining the organizations mission to undermine the current government which allowed the Shelbys freedom.

However, the final document you stumbled upon gave you pause. Noting it was dated the week before Grace's death, you clamped a hand over your mouth in shock as you read the brief, yet significant message. It appeared to be a warning to provide more concrete evidence against the members of the Shelby family. Apparently Tommy had protected them well. Is that why she'd asked for his help? you wondered, grimacing at the thought of her loathsome demand.

A deep foreboding thrummed in your veins as you read the last lines of type, "Failure to achieve your objective will result in final termination. Next of kin will be notified." You gasped in spite of yourself, comprehending the terms of Grace's contract were to kill or be killed.

Oblivious to the sound of the creaking door at your back, you were startled by the outraged voice of Mary. “Shame on you!" she spat, crossing the room to stand before you in obvious fury. "Did you find what you were looking for in Mrs. Shelby's private things?" she scolded.

"This is my house now and I will search every inch of it if I so choose,” you seethed, unafraid of her vitriol.

"To save him?" she sneered, surveying the mass of papers along with the one clutched tightly in your hand. "Well it won't work," she informed you, arms crossed over her chest in defiance.

"We'll see about that," you retorted, plucking important pages from the stacks before you.

 “I knew you'd stand by him," she uttered, poison dripping from her tongue. Lips curved into a sinister smile she pronounced, "Perhaps you do deserve him."

"More than Grace ever did because I actually love him," you declared, chin held high.

Mary snorted at your proud reply noting, "You're nothing more than his instrument, a plaything he uses. Grace was a self reliant woman, free to live her life as she pleased. No wonder a man had to kill her!” she remarked pointedly.

Rebuffing her criticism, you stood tall before her, a calmness washing over you as you addressed her misconceptions about Grace. "It must be hard for you to accept she was fallible, but she made many mistakes. I intend to see them rectified," you informed her.

She stammered at your sudden confidence which seemed to drain her of whatever power she'd once held over you. You used this momentum to deliver the final blow to her ego. “Pack your bags, I expect you gone by nightfall.”

She barely registered the order, though you noted the tight clench of her jaw in response.

Without waiting for her to make the first move, you gathered all the necessary papers into your arms and stalked away, intent on making one last trip before evening.

Cont reading Part 21

[xiakato]

Interview with the Director(M)- NINGNING

“Took you long enough to get here,” The woman takes a sip from her glass, her office overlooking a beautiful mountain range in the valleys of Switzerland. 

“Giselle doesn’t like giving me the answers I want,” You sit in one of the chairs in front of her desk. 

“She’s always been one to beat around the bush.” 

“Rather annoying, I had to fuck it out of her,” You sigh placing the audio recorder onto her desk. 

“Well if the stories I’ve heard about you are true, I can’t blame her,” The woman’s smile is captivating. Of course the low light that these women seem to rejoice in, added to the atmosphere nearly as much as their beauty. 

“You could see later, first and foremost it’s an interview my dear Ning Yizhuo.” 

“You’ve certainly done your research, even knowing that name I’ve long since forsaken.” 

“It was difficult, you’ve nearly scrubbed every record of your name besides one of course.” 

“My death certificate?” 

“Yes, why? Why go through all that trouble for everything else but leave that?” 

“Because Ning Yizhuo is dead to the world and anyone that may fall about the story of the Ning family, the family that was found dead in their home.” 

“Tell me about your family,” You pull out your journal, filled with the notes from the previous two interviews. The stories these girls hold you feel that they need to be heard. 

“Run of the mill family, I feel, well as run of the mill we could be for 1740,” She leans back in her luxurious chair, looking out of the floor to ceiling windows. The snow falling to the ground as if it’s a missing piece of a larger than life puzzle, “There were whispers, that my family was plotting to betray the Emperor, yet my family still tried and true. My father was a devoted man, my mother could care less, her only care was the children. Till a night such as this one,” she nods her head at the beautiful snowy night and the surrounding alps, “It was a cold night, the fire burned brightly. They descended about our house, blood lined the walls. The blood of the maids spilt in their living quarters sullied their footsteps. They dragged us out of our beds. The terror that encased my body, the tears that stained my cheeks. The cries of my family that fateful night fell on deaf ears as we were slaughtered one by one,” She pauses as a tear falls down her cheek, remembering that painful night of which changed her life, it haunts her, even now, tormenting her in her dreams, “I was left bleeding out on the floor, my vision slowly fading and that’s when I saw her. Skin was white as the snow that fell around her.”

“Is that how she got her nickname?” 

“You seem to know who it is already so yes that’s how she did get that name, Winter.” 

“What of Karina’s brother?” 

“Oh Sunwoo, a cutie, very diligent. He’s long since gone on to work for an unsavory group of vampires. One's hope is to turn the tide of the elders, hoping to get their hands onto power that is yet out of their grasp.” 

“What is this group?” 

She gets out of her chair, “Follow me,” You grab the recorder and follow, “The group is nothing less than a meager thorn in the side of the ones aligned with the elders. They wish to garner enough power and people that could use the power of elders, ones that aren’t an elder themselves. Much like you.” 

“What would they want me for?” 

“They seem to have found a way to extract the power of the hosts, killing them obviously. I heard recently that they’ve been rather busy. I could only assume they’re looking for you,” She opens the door to her bedroom, a lavish room decorated with black and red satin. 

“I see, well enough of them, how did you come to be in charge of this place?” 

“Elder Marius took a particular liking to me, he is long since dead. Watched him turn to ash.” 

“Thanks for your time Miss Ning,” You bow slightly to her and stop the recorder, turning on your heels to leave. 

“Where do you think you’re going manthing?” Her words stop in your tracks, “You seem to think you can just leave without giving me my payment.” 

“What sort of payment do you think you’re going to get?” You turn to look at her, your eyes falling to her perfect legs crossed as she sits on the edge of her bed. 

“The only thing of use that you can give, so strip,” She commanded, her eyes glowing under the light from the fireplace. You were hoping to avoid this as you didn’t want to fuck everyone you interviewed yet her you are pulling your trousers down. She gestures for you to get closer, you do without a second thought. Her soft and slender hand wraps around your cock, shivers run down your spine as you feel how cold she is despite being near a fire. She smirks to herself, “I see why Giselle decided to keep you around.” 

“She keeps more around for more than just my dick,” You tell her as you make her lay on the bed, hiking up her skirt making short work of her panties. 

“Rather confident about it, you should know by now anything that comes out of her mouth you can’t trust,” She chuckles which is replaced by a sharp inhale and a moan as you slide your cock into her, her tightness squeezes your cock not wanting to let go, “Fuck.”

You grip tightly onto her thighs using them as leverage as you thrust deep into her, she squeezes your cock at random intervals adding to your pleasure. Looking down at her, seeing her with that smirk etched on her lips. You part her lips with your thumb, her fangs grazing across it as you keep thrusting, getting her to feel every inch. Her legs wrap around you tightly as she reaches her climax. You slowly pull out as her juices cover the bed sheet. 

“We aren’t done here pretty boy,” She says between catching her breathing, she gets on her knees arching her back, spreading her ass, “Fuck my ass~” 

You don’t have to be told twice, as you push your tip into her ass, “So tight,” You continue to push deeper and deeper.

“No o-ne has fucked my ass since the 80’s, I had to do it myself~” She moans out as you bottom out in her tight ass, “Break me pretty boy, tear that ass up,” She smiles as she feels your cock piston in and out, “FUCK YES!” 

Her moans echo through the halls, the sound skin slapping against skin accompanies it. Your hand wrapped up in her hair as she takes your cock, her mind merely a blank slate. Her eyes glazed over as her ass was used just like she wanted. You pull out quickly, surprising her as she squirts adding to her puddle. Her whole body shakes as she looks back at you, ”You fucker.” 

“I’m only giving you what you wanted, remember that Yizhuo,” You pull her ass back up, spreading it, looking at your handy work. You smile to yourself as you slide back in with ease. She hasn’t recovered from her latest orgasm as you get back to your pace from before. You grip her hips tightly as you pound away chasing your own high using her like a sex toy. She digs her nails into your forearm. You go as fast as your own hips allow as you start to fill her ass with your cum. You keep going, you want to break her, and you will. Grabbing her other arm using them as leverage.

“FUCK FUCK!” She screams out as she starts to squirt as you rail her ass, making sure her ass will forever be able to take your cock whenever. Shooting another load into her, you finally let her go as she collapses on the bed, cum dripping from her ass. You catch your breath as you head over to your trousers. 

“Dirty slut,” You say getting dressed, and walking towards the door as she starts to giggle digging her fingers into her ass spreading it more. 

“Don’t you want to fill my ass more~?”