#lfic

[thekracken]

okay but also I really need a fic where eliot is sitting in the food truck passenger seat, smiling, beaming, feeling filled to the brim with light. because his dad is proud of him. and wants to see him again. and it’s so much more than he thought he’d get. (because he always imagined it cold and dark. imagined being shut out and ignored with the only option of leaving his pleas and his sorrow through the cracks in a closed door).

but then, unbidden, tears are running down his face and he’s not smiling anymore and he doesn’t even know when it happened. between one heartbeat and the next, he’s choking on air around sobs he’s desperately trying to keep silent and breanna goes stiff beside him, putting her feet flat on the floor and sitting ramrod straight.

its too late to hide, but still he tries.

he stands abruptly. the truck swerves as parker looks over and reaches for him but he twists to avoid her reach and pushes through the curtain into the back.

harry is sitting in one of the office chairs and sophie is leaned against breannas desk. they look up when he enters. he wishes he could jump out the back.

harry opens his mouth and eliot can hear the whisper of a word forming before sophie cuts him off, pushing his shoulder and straightening.

“go,” she orders softly and harry moves without comment. eliot moves with him, they barely touch shoulders as harry moves into the cab and he doesn’t know what’s happening, feels like he’s free falling, until sophie wraps her arms around his shoulders and pulls him close.

“its okay.” she says, and he grips onto her shirt, holding on like a child. “its okay, eliot.

and he cries. he cries for the 18 year old who lost his mother and his father. he cries for the man who was welded into a weapon, who was used for atrocities he can’t even fully talk about. he cries for the 32 years, lost. he cries for the mother he didn’t get to say goodbye to. he cries because his dad got to meet parker and sophie and breanna and harry. he cries because his dad didn’t get to meet hardison. he cries because his dad hasn’t met hardison yet.

he doesn’t know when sophie maneuvered them onto the floor but when he comes back to his body, they’re situated together and his knees ache, his back aches, his shoulder aches, but he feels better.

it takes him a few moments of silence before he realizes the truck isn’t rumbling under them and unease sinks into his gut because he didn’t notice-

but then he breathes in, because sophies arms are still wrapped around him and he knows, even if he can’t hear them, parker and breanna and harry are keeping a lookout.

sophie seems to know when he noticed the truck is off and she rubs her hand across her shoulder before leaning back.

“parker pulled off at a rest area,” she says. “gave us a little privacy.”

us. like it wasn’t an act done solely for eliots benefit. us because they’re a team and a family and if one hurts, they all hurt. if one heals, they all heal.

sophie gives him the space to ground himself and when he’s ready, he pushes himself to his feet, wincing at the pain and stiffness in his joints. he holds out a hand and helps pull her up. she looks at him fully, for the first time, and raises her hands to his face, wiping away the remaining wetness lingering under his eyes and she gives him a small nod in silent question that he returns. she smiles at his silent answer and drops her hands and moves gracefully towards the front of the cab, as if she hadn’t just been crumpled on the floor with him for who knows how long.

eliot waits a moment before following. he shakes out his shoulders and rubs out his knee. when he pushes away the curtain dividing the cab from the mobile office, he watches his family through the window; watches parker and breanna sitting on a park bench talking, watches harry leaned against the hood of the truck people watching, watches as sophie stands unnoticed surveying the same scene.

something solid and warm settles in eliots chest, a feeling so deep he hadn’t even realized he was cold before.

eliot steps outside and thinks of laughter, of dusty vents, of the heat of a computer, of the sounds of knives on a chopping block, of a bar and a brewpub and an abandoned jazz bar. of pretzels and robot bodies.

[prince-liest]

some personal thoughts on Talk Show 666: Anger Management, partly stolen from my own comment replies to other people:

It's kind of interesting to me every time people perceive Alastor's words to Vox when he's saying things specifically to humiliate him in the context of sex to be excessively cruel, or something to feel bad for on Vox's part. I never intended to write them as something that Vox wasn't, like. Blatantly enjoying, in a very kink-specific way. Granted, it's not the usual humiliation kink dirty talk, because Alastor's idea of dirty talk started at "your bones would look super pretty carved out of your chest" and Vox never corrected him except for to react positively to getting humiliated…

However! Similarly to the way that Alastor wants and enjoys being forced into distress and helplessness as in Livestream 666, Now Presenting: A Love Potion Makes the Medicine Go Down, Vox likes being hurt by Alastor's words. At least, he did until they reached this moment in Talk Show 666: Anger Management where he gets upset with Alastor for talking about how disgusting he used to think Vox's interest in him was. There's a difference between saying "You are [insert humiliating kinky insults]" vs "I think badly of you," especially framed in the context of a time in the past when they actually ended up on bad terms…but Alastor doesn't know what Vox is getting out of this in the first place, and so didn't know this, either.

On the other hand, I do think that some of that perception of feeling bad for Vox probably comes from the same place as people who did read the CNC fic and perceive it as genuine non-con - despite Alastor's repeated initial consent, Vox's check-in, Alastor's utter lack of using any force whatsoever to attempt to escape, and his satisfaction with how things went after the fact. Sometimes you just truly cannot relate to how another person would experience something, especially if you personally find that thing to be a negative experience.

Additionally, at no point has Vox done anything other than encourage the monologuing, including actually discussing it and what he gets out of it. Alastor's been pressing that button like a "say mean things and Vox gets off on it" generator without really having a deeper understanding of why that is, because "I don't get this Sex Thing but it seems to work for him" is how he handles a lot of what they do together in general. That is the intersection where Vox's frequently shitty communication tactics combined with this situation to explode the whole thing in their faces. It was going to happen eventually! Best it happened now, after they did so much processing to get to where they are.

No murder attempts, that's already good!

[littledrummeraussie]

a rare appearance of dom luke please 🧎���♀️

This is my first ever Luke piece (took me what? 3 years?), and let me tell you, this one was a ride I did not expect at all. The idea came to me almost immediately, but I'm glad I took the time with it because I'm actually really happy how it turned out.

When I was coming up with the title, Personal Jesus came to my mind for maybe obvious reasons, but it did not really fit with the whole story. Until I remembered the version Hilary Duff made out of it, and let me tell you, that was the perfect fit.

This might not be everyone’s taste so I’m sorry? Also, I was heavily inspired by this Luke:

masterlist. | want to be added to my taglist? | Christmas Blurb Fest 2022 / I want a blurb too!

reach out & touch me (before i go insane). [a dom!Luke blurb]

warnings: daddydom!Luke. subfem!reader. pet names. daddy kink. fingering in front of a mirror. one little spank. a moment of breath play. Luke is both praising and taunting the reader during their play time. (let me know if I missed anything???)

word count: 1836

----------

“You’re so easy, Angel.”

Luke softly nipped your earlobe, hot puffs of air tickling your skin, making you shiver at every little touch. It always made your knees weak when his voice turned deep and scratchy, so easily switching modes, slipping into the dominant role that he rarely showed to the world. A role that was only reserved for you.

“Lu– please…”

His messy blond curls hung over his forehead, traces of glittery makeup still painted on his skin from the time he was performing. He was still high on adrenaline when he got back home – rushing through his veins, making him dizzy with want and need for you: to touch and tease, to give and take, to wreck you before the night ended.

“That’s not my name.”

It only took him a second, just a look with those darkening blue eyes to have you on your knees, obediently waiting for his orders, always wanting to please him when this side of him came out to play. A little chuckle left his lips, something between sweet and satisfied before crouching down to you to tip your chin up, pressing a kiss on your parted lips. He breathed against your ear, telling you to go to the bedroom and wait for him.

“I–”

You’ve tried to be patient as you kneeled at the end of the bed, waiting for Luke to finally come after you. It felt like an eternity, but finally you heard his steps coming up the stairs, taking his time as he strolled down the hallway, leisurely kicking his boots off like they didn’t cost thousands of dollars. He stopped in the doorway, throwing his suit jacket over a table or a chair, you weren’t sure, just that he towered over you, calling your name to look up at him.

“Say it.”

He looked like a god, or something else out of this world, looking at you like you were a precious little thing that pleased him, something picked out from the masses, so special and beautiful, only fit for a man like him. His thumb ran over your bottom lip, pushing into your mouth and against your tongue, letting you suck it just for a second before he pulled his hand back. A low whine slipped out of you, doe-eyes searching him, pleading to let you get close to him again, to feel him against you, however it pleased him. Luke gave you a sympathetic little noise, almost something like a chuckle or a chiding, your name falling off his lips softly – it made you shiver from head to toe. Luke finally took pity on you and stepped closer, the bulge straining his pants right in front of you as he asked you to help him strip without being too touchy. After all, good girls do as they are told by their–

“Daddy.”

With trembling hands you reached for the button on his pants, tugging down the zipper that was pressing against his boxers, his cock so close and inviting, you just wanted to wrap your lips around the tip that already soaked the thin material right in front of you. You bit your lip to keep those thoughts at bay, always wanting to be so good for him, and instead you pulled on the legs, the pants sliding down on Luke’s hips, pooling around his ankles. He kicked them away, motioning you with just a nod of his head to stand up and help him out of his tank top. Your fingers curled into the hem of his shirt, lifting it up slowly, palms sliding against his warm skin for a second, just to feel him. He grabbed the top and pulled it over his head, throwing it away, standing in front of you in all of his glory. His head dipped down, lips whispering against yours, only a thin circle of blue around his dark pupils.

“Good girl.”

.

Luke’s back way resting against the foot of the bed, long legs stretched out, toes almost touching the mirror standing in front of you. You leaned against his chest, your own legs thrown over his thighs to keep them spread, your panties long forgotten along with Luke’s clothes. He was still wearing his boxers, his cock rubbing against your ass as your hips moved, trying to get him to move, to touch you, to take away the ache deep inside you.

“You’re so easy, Angel,” Luke softly nipped your earlobe, hot puffs of air tickling your skin, making you shiver at every little touch. “Ask nicely.”

“Please, Daddy.”

“There you go, Angel,” he traced his nose against your cheek, kissing it sweetly. “It wasn’t too hard, was it?”

You choked on a moan as his fingers curled against your sweet spot again, his thumb rubbing over your clit in small circles. Your pussy was soaked from the way he teased you, from the way he edged you, the wet noises filling the room and your ears as Luke’s fingers moved in and out of you. Your nails dug into his thighs, eyes closed tightly as you chased your pleasure, head thrown back onto his shoulder as your pleas spilled from your tongue.

“Look at yourself,” he pressed a kiss on your temple, teeth grazing the top of your ear. “Come on, open your eyes and look at yourself.”

For a moment you needed to bury your face against his neck, knowing the sight will make you feel embarrassed and turned on at the same time. Luke was right – you were so easy to play with. You loved him for bringing out this side of you. With a soft whine you finally opened your eyes, looking at your reflection in the mirror, your walls clenching around Luke’s fingers at what you saw.

Your eyes flickered between your boyfriend’s face as he watched you in the mirror and his hand moving between your thighs, fingers pulling out of you and spreading you open, your lips puffy and the most beautiful shade, drenched with your arousal. He pushed back in again, his rings cold against your sensitive skin where you were wrapped around his fingers, making something tighten in your core. He must have felt it too, suddenly teasing a third finger against your hole, making you grind against his palm.

“Daddy… Daddy please, please… I wanna… I wanna… Please Daddy…”

Luke growled at your begging, hips bucking forward at his name, rubbing his hard dick against your ass, the wet spot growing where the precum soaked his boxers. The fingers on his free hand curled into the top of your sleep shirt, tugging it lower on your chest, his grip so strong that soon you heard the thin material rip, your tits spilling out. It made you trash against him, so lost in your pleasure, not sure if you wanted to press forward against his hand or fall back and melt against his chest, giving up all control and letting him do as he pleased.

You suddenly felt empty, his fingers disappearing from inside you, and a whimper escaped you at the loss of his touch, your brain already trying to string together a sentence or at least a fragment of it to beg him for release. Not even a second later Luke’s hands curled under your thighs, gripping you and pulling your body back against his chest, and somewhere in the back of your mind you realized you must have slipped down, not being able to keep yourself up anymore. His palm was running all over your skin, one hand finally settling back between your thighs, fingers massaging your clit, while the other grabbed one of your tits, pinching your nipple. Teeth bit down on your neck, leaving a faint mark as he hungrily kissed and licked the soft skin, his fingers never stopping on your body.

The hand on your tit gave one last pinch to your nipple before sliding up on your sternum, fingers wrapping around your neck, and you choked on your next words as Luke softly gripped your throat, leaning closer to your ear, his whispers so close it was like he became the voice inside your head.

“Lu– Daddy, please, I’m–”

“What’s that, Angel? Hmm?” his voice was syrupy and warm like honey, sucking your earlobe into his mouth. “Is my baby not satisfied? Does she need more? Oh baby, is it not enough, what Daddy already gave you? So insatiable.”

His fingers tapped your clit before suddenly giving a quick little spank to your pussy, the pain and the pleasure travelling up your spine and making your thighs clench together, if it weren’t for Luke’s legs keeping you spread open. A second later his fingers slipped back inside you, steadily going in and out as his other hand travelled up to your face, grabbing your chin and squishing your cheeks, your lips falling open in a perfectly shaped O.

“Keep your eyes on me, Angel,” Luke’s lips dragged against your temple, leaving an open-mouth kiss on your hair. “And cum for me.”

It felt too much, the way his fingers were rubbing your sweet spot, palm grinding against your clit with every stroke, how he kept your head in place against his chest, eyes locked in an intense stare, those baby blue eyes now dark and full of lust, his words praising and taunting you at the same time until your vision blurred, back arching and toes lifting off the floor, hand grabbing at his wrist between your legs as you finally came, your whole body shaking from the powerful orgasm rushing through your veins.

“There you go, Angel. So beautiful,” Luke’s voice was soft around the edges, fingers slowing down as he worked your through your pleasure, helping you start to come down from your high. “Look at you, such a piece of art, baby.”

You sagged against his chest, feet finally lowering and resting against Luke’s legs as you tried to find the willpower to open your eyes, still shaking from the way his fingers were softly playing you. When you finally looked up you could see in the mirror how wrecked you looked, spread open in Luke’s lap, his fingers petting through your soaked folds, red nails glistening with your arousal, the shade against your pussy looking like an art piece, just like your boyfriend said it.

He left soft, sweet little kisses on your cheek and jaw, fingers running through your hair as he cradled you in his arms, his words praising you for being his good girl, such a perfect Angel, so absolutely beautiful for his Daddy. You whimpered softly when your felt his caresses on your thigh running too close to your pussy, his pinky finger brushing against a spot that instantly made you shiver. Luke chuckled above you, voice even lower than before as he breathed against your ear.

“Aww, sensitive?” he tutted lightly, lips pressing against your temple as he whispered. “Too bad, Angel. We’re just getting started.”

----------

@mymindwide @fuckyeah5sostakemehome @suchalonelysunflower @talkfastromance4 @ashtonsunflower @in-superbloom @wiiildflowerrr @lovelywordsblog @heyitskelseaj

[windor-truffle]

the inspiration for my most recent WIP, some good ol angsty hurt-comfort for a Richard who's trapped in the form of the monster he let himself become

[emeralddoeadeer]

1, 6 and 23 for the writing asks!

Hello, Thanks for the ask :)

1 - the last sentence you wrote

Between them, they sample a little of everything.

6 - the word that appears the most in your current draft (wordcounter.net can tell you)

Sirius and when appear within 2% of each other... (From the next chapter of no place like home)

23 - pick three keywords that describe your writing

answered here <3

Fic writer asks here!

[boyinafandom]

PLEASE I. A T WITH THIS FUCKIB. LFIC BRO

[atclocks]

🔐ATC now offers Large Format Interchangeable Core master key systems and re-keying services. Call us today! #lfic #sargentlfic #masterkey #masterkeysystem #iccore #professionallocksmith #mobilelocksmith #commerciallocksmith #eatontonga #eatontongeorgia #milledgeville #milledgevillega #milledgevillegeorgia #customersatisfactioniskey (at Putnam County, Georgia) https://www.instagram.com/p/CF6BuPYg4HI/?igshid=11hbrjmryp8n

[mayiayi]

Modern day Wangxian where Lan Wangji is peer pressured into downloading tinder by his own brother. At first it was really boring- what is the use of swiping based off of looks? If anyone asked Lan Wangji, tinder was bad for mental health. So he eventually stopped using it, he couldn’t even remember if he swiped correctly, he didn’t really care for looks, he didn’t even care to date if he was being completely honest with himself.

“Have you found anyone you are interested in, Wangji?” Lan Xichen had asked Lan Wangji one day. They were sat facing each other, both eating a new dish that Lan Xichen has learned during one of his cooking classes that he so spontaneously decided to take. Something Lan Wangji would never do.

“No.” Was the answer Lan Wangji gave to his brother. Lan Xichen didn’t hide his small smile. He loved his brother, he hoped tinder would be a good way to help him find friends and maybe even a lover.

That night, Lan Wangji decides to give tinder another shot. He opened up the app, and despite how he disagreed with judging people by their looks, he swiped right in the people he bought we nice looking or the people who had interested bio’s. When he was about to exit out of the app and go to sleep, the guy with a big smile caught his eye. Wei Wuxian. That was his name. Lan Wangji stared at the picture feeling a little gross at how he felt a little excited.

Wei Wuxian is the name. If you like cuddles and movies, swipe right. Let’s get together for some drinks and movie watching. I hope you aren’t allergic to bunnies because I have two.

Lan Wangji immediately swiped in a bit of excitement. He felt his lips tug into a smile, he hoped this guy would match with him.

The smile wiped off of Lan Wangji’s face when he realized he accidentally swiped left instead of right. Lan Wangji has never cursed in his life. In all of his 23 years of life, he had never once even thought of letting out a string of curses- tonight however, Lan Wangji let out a loud “fuck!”

He swiped left on the guy who managed to give him hope that this app wasn’t a bad idea after all.

Wei Wuxian. How was he going to find him now?

[outerspace-iiinnerspace]

WIP Sunday

Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs. 

tagged by @a-big-apple (sorta)

i am really Not a writer except for fr stuff so a lot of these are never intended to be finished/published so yknow. why not why not!

- lfic

- the tea party

- not gonna finish this one but i dont wanna delete it either

- AML

- LX

- the gang’s all back together again

 - GAY REBELS IN A POND

- Lk deleted scene

- Bon1

i am also wimping out on the tagging thing so if you want to do it please consider yourself tagged! if you say i tagged you i will send an ask for Sure

[thekracken]

OH GOD WAIT eliot has the red haze and just words, just names, can trigger intense flashbacks, and he’s hurt and in pain and suffering ptsd and he can’t just leave the memories, not drugged up like this, and he keeps flinching, jerking, tears run down his face and he whimpers, mutters words unintelligible to the crew and maybe when he was lucid and parker rescued him and sophie was in the van, ready to grab him and sits him down beside breanna and he says “get, get her away from me. all of you. get away from me” and that only makes parker get closer and he says “I don’t want to hurt you my heads confused” but parker presses up against eliots side in a way she has a knack of doing and he explains what’s happening to him and his fists clench tight on his thighs and parker watches helplessly, wondering if she should grab his hand, force it flat, but she doesn’t do anything but watch. and maybe, when he’s safe at home and his team is around him and he throws his head back to keep quiet, maybe parker says “do you remember that one winter in boston? where hardison bet you he could build a functioning igloo?” and suddenly, eliots there. he’s watching hardison in his minds eye as he shuffles around the apartment, winterwear thrown everywhere, he’s ranting, waving his arms and parkers beside him, they share a look and a knot forms in his throat in reality. “yeah,” he says, voice raspy like he had been screaming. “yeah I remember” and then sophie speaks up and says “there was a restaurant when we went to new mexico, they had that salsa that-“ “that made you cry” eliot finishes and he’s there, laughing around the table with his family as nate hands over his drink like the carbonation wouldn’t make it worse, while parker is laughing, spooning a huge chipful in her mouth and hardison is asking for milk or sour cream or don’t y’all have dairy here? and eliot lets out a shaky breath in reality. harry and breanna stay silent, while blanche sets up a saline drip to flush the red haze out of eliots system, as parker and sophie talk eliot through their good memories

[batman-mustache]

Diarmuid, son of Donn

Ever since I got into Fate, my favorite character has always been Diarmuid ua Duibhne from Fate/Zero (what can I say, I’m a sucker for tragic heroes). After finishing the series, I was curious about the actual mythology, and starting from his Wikipedia page, I moved on to reading as many variations of The Pursuit as I could. My interest only grew over time and I moved onto his other exploits, like “The Daughter of the King Under-Wave” and “The Hostel of the Quicken Trees.” While there’s contradictions between certain stories, which is to be expected with mythology, there are general core aspects consistent throughout. 

But one aspect of his legend I cannot verify anywhere.

I’ve seen many people assert, as well as Diarmuid’s Wikipedia page itself, that Diarmuid is actually a demigod. They claim that his father is Donn, the lord of the Dead, of the Tuatha de Danann. Which is a neat idea... if I could find a single source backing it up.

Now don’t get me wrong, in every source I’ve found, Diarmuid is always listed as the son of Donn. But, and here’s the important distinction--it never specifies which Donn. There’s loads of Donns all over the place: Donn, son of Midhir, Donn, son of Miled, Donn and Dubhan sons of the King of Ulster--you get the idea. Donn, or the Dark One, is listed as a son or foster-son of the Dagda (although he may have originally been an iteration of him). 

The Dagda is a pretty big deal in Irish mythology, and generally whenever any character is related to him, it’s specified, such as Diarmuid’s foster father, Aengus:

Yet, Donn in the “The Pursuit” is never listed as the Dagda’s son. In fact, Diarmuid is always referred as the grandson of Duibhne (hence ua Duibhne), and his mother, Crochnuit, is listed as the daughter of Currach (although it’s a moot point, as only the father’s father ever seems to matter when they list genealogy). But wait? What if the Dagda was just Donn’s foster father and Duibhne is the real father of Donn. Well, if you can find a source, sure, but I can’t find anything connecting Donn of the Tuatha de Danann to a person named Duibhne. As it is, besides a single website with no source, I cannot find anything corroborating Wikipedia’s claim. Going further, in one version I found, Donn is referred to as Donn O’Donnchudha (grandson of Donnchudha).

No mention of the Tuatha de Danann in that family tree.

One consistency about Donn, the father of Diarmuid, that I’ve found is that he was a member of the Fianna that was outlawed after a quarrel. 

(For some reason he’s called Bonn here)

This makes it even odder if he were the Donn of the Tuatha de Danann, since yes, the Fianna would interact with them sometimes, but they weren’t actually members of the Fianna. They both just kind of hated the Fomorians. 

In one of the most extensive collections of Fenian myths, “Gods and Fighting Men” by Lady Gregory, Donn the Dark One does appear. But he’s referred to in a different way than how Diarmuid’s father is presented.

Why wouldn’t Diarmuid’s father be referred to the same way? Why would no myth make any allusion that Diarmuid is the son of the Dark One? And since none do, how did this claim come to be? Could it really be that someone saw the name Donn and assumed it had to be the same Donn as the one from the Tuatha de Danann?

In a way, I actually like the idea that Diarmuid’s dad was just a regular dude, meaning Diarmuid had no divine ancestry. He certainly had enough supernatural influences in his life considering he was the foster son of Aengus Og and was trained by Manannan (and potentially the warrior woman, Mongfinn, but I’ve only ever seen two places that claim this, and I can’t find a source for either). I like that he’s just a dude who can slay entire armies. Mythology is full of guys who are just Like That.

Now, I’m not claiming I know everything. Maybe someone out there has the source that shows Diarmuid really is descended from the Lord of the Dead. But for me, I’ve yet to see it.

Sources: 1) “The Pursuit of Gilla Decair” http://www.yorku.ca/inpar/gilla_ogrady.pdf

2) The Project Gutenberg EBook of Gods and Fighting Men, by Lady I. A. Gregory https://www.gutenberg.org/files/14465/14465-h/14465-h.htm

3) Celtic Literature Collective “The Pursuit of Diarmuid and Grainne” https://www.maryjones.us/ctexts/diarmuid.html

4) LibraryIreland https://www.libraryireland.com/celtic-past/pursuit-diarmuid-grainne.php and https://www.libraryireland.com/celtic-past/death-diarmuid-oduibhne.php

5) O’Regan’s Athenry-Athenry History Archive http://homepage.eircom.net/~oreganathenry/oreganathenry/mythology/diarmuid-and-grainne.html

6) Toruigheacht Dhiarmuda Agus Ghrainne https://books.google.fr/books?hl=fr&lr=&id=OrUsAQAAMAAJ&oi=fnd&pg=PA1&dq=Diarmuid+Ua+Duibhne&ots=vJEDhxrrlM&sig=JcBO5BewOUxpvLCZ7J-fU6sqEBY#v=onepage&q=donn&f=false

7) “Pursuit of Diarmuid and Grainne” https://www.sacred-texts.com/neu/celt/lfic/lfic062.htm

8) https://archive.org/stream/truigheachtdhi01sociiala/truigheachtdhi01sociiala_djvu.txt

9) http://cbladey.com/irish/darmuid.html

10) https://bardmythologies.com/diarmuid-and-grainne/

11) http://emeraldisle.ie/diarmuid-and-grainne

12) https://www.uni-trier.de/fileadmin/forschung/projekte/ZAT/CEL/17icm.pdf

13) https://www.connollycove.com/tuatha-de-danann/

[littledrummeraussie]

still have like 6 bullet points to finish, so dom!Luke drops sometimes tomorrow

depending on timezones and stuff

[aqueermenagerie]

Use Your Words by zedi

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandom: One Direction (Band) Relationship: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

based off this prompt: collage au where jock!harry always serenades flowercrown!louis with love songs in their music class. what nobody knows is that harry actually kinda means the words he sings.

But instead it's Louis as the jock and Harry as the flowerchild because I do what I want.

read it on ao3

[argyle-s]

Same anon who butt into the conversation. I get it from a fanfic standpoint. I also have a lot of non-canon ships. On some level, characters get re-written by fans to fit their own perception. That's why fanon stuff exist. I was thinking more of canon and fans' refusal to accept the truth. Also the double-standard. When it was Mon-El doing the shitty things, he got called out on it by the fans. With Lena, it's like rose-colored glasses on steroids. Which led to the character/fandom bias point.

Before people call me out, full disclosure, I ship Kalex and SuperFlash. I only mentioned Mon-El as an example for the fandom double-standard. I agree that the writers are partly to blame for Lena’s shit going largely unchecked. I’m hoping that changes this season since everything is supposed to come to a head. It would be incredibly irresponsible of them not to because it’s like supporting and encouraging bad, borderline abusive behavior. That’s not how friendships are supposed to be at all.

I’m still going to go back to Investment in the ship.  I *haven’t* read a lot of Karam*l stuff (I’ve read none) but my perception is that it wasn’t the Karam*l shippers calling out Mon-El for the shit he did.  I could be wrong, but my perception of it is that Karam*l got treated by the fans a lot like CaptainSw*n in the OUAT fandom, where the people who shipped it ignored what an ass Hook was 99% of the time.

The difference is, are a *LOT* of Superc*rp shippers.  Superc*rp is pretty monolithic within the Supergirl fandom.  To give you an idea, let’s look at some stats.

Sanvers has 5324 fics tagged on AO3Dansen has 153 fics tagged on AO3Supercorp has 10030 fics tagged on AO3Guardiancorp has 68 fics tagged on AO3Karam*el has 1068 fics tagged on AO3

Of the Sanvers fics, 1637 are also tagged Superc*rpOf the Dansen fics, 44 are also tagged Superc*rpOf the Guardiancorp fics, 37 are also tagged Superc*rpOf the Karam*l fics, 120 are also tagged Superc*rpOf the Karam*lfics, 130 are also tagged Sanvers

for control purposes, we’ll be eliminating double tagged fics for this (which really isn’t the best control, but it is the simplest), which leaves is with:

3557 Sanvers fics109 Dansen fics31 Guardiancorp fics818 Karam*l fics8229 Superc*rp fics

Now, for comparison’s sake, in OUAT fandom, once you control for double tagging, you have:

11567 SwanQueen fics9810 CaptainSw*n fics

Put Simply, Superc*rp comes pretty damn close to doubling the number of fics available for the four canon relationships, two of which are wlw ships.  To come close to the number of Superc*rp fics, you have to add all of the canon ships listed above, plus the other big non-canon ships like SuperCat, General Danvers, AgentReign and Kalex, and once you control for double tagging, I’m not at all sure you’d catch up.

The ship wars in OUAT were vicious, largely because there was near parity in terms of the size of the different fandoms.  A lot of the reason you see less people willing to call out Superc*rp is because it isn’t a ship war, it’s a dog pile.

Lena doesn’t get called out on her bullshit because so much of the Supergirl fandom is so heavily invested in Superc*rp, and so willing to savage anyone who does call out Lena’s bullshit, that a lot of people have just walked away from the fandom in disgust, and a lot of other people have created isolated pocket communities where they can ship in peace (and even some of those aren’t really safe places to discuss how toxic Lena and Kara’s friendship is, because if you start talking about how toxic Lena is, the multishippers will start crying foul).  And honestly, it’s not even limited to pointing out the toxicity in the relationship.  If you point out, if you even imply, that Lena is not the most important relationship in Kara’s life (Alex always has been and always will be), they will pile all.

To give you an example, someone once made a post about Kara overhearing someone talking about how “Supergirl straps” and suggesting the idea that Kara would ask Lena what it meant.  All I did was point out that it was far more likely that Kara would ask *Alex* what that meant, because Kara goes to Alex for questions about human stuff she doesn’t understand.  I got jumped by a pack of Superc*rp fans and got called a “Granny stanning fuck”.

tldr;  People don’t call Lena out on her fuckery because the Superc*rp fandom is full of assholes who will bully and abuse you doing so.

[carlobattisti]

New Year, new Facilitators.

New Year, new Facilitators.

I nuovi Facilitator del Living Future Italy Collaborative.

(English text follows)

Cambio alla guida del Collaborative italiano della rete Living Future. A cinque anni dalla fondazione siamo lieti di dare il benvenuto ai nuovi Facilitator italiani, Marco Rossato e Matteo Dalla Libera, che dopo una procedura di selezione sono stati approvati nel nuovo ruolo per il biennio 2020-2021 dal comitato di…

[peebls]

I was perusing the wing grooming tag on ao3 and I found fan lfic for the holy bible itself and if there's not something so visceral and galaxy brained about that