#lockdown letter project

[wheredidmydrillgo]

why do people tell me that I love so (and sometimes too) much but it never quite feels like it's ever enough

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Dirty words are politically potent

On OCTOBER 23 at 7PM, I'll be in DECATUR, presenting my novel THE BEZZLE at EAGLE EYE BOOKS.

Making up words is a perfectly cromulent passtime, and while most of the words we coin disappear as soon as they fall from our lips, every now and again, you find a word that fits so nice and kentucky in the public discourse that it acquires a life of its own:

http://meaningofliff.free.fr/definition.php3?word=Kentucky

I've been trying to increase the salience of digital human rights in the public imagination for a quarter of a century, starting with the campaign to get people to appreciate that the internet matters, and that tech policy isn't just the delusion that the governance of spaces where sad nerds argue about Star Trek is somehow relevant to human thriving:

https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2010/10/04/small-change-malcolm-gladwell

Now, eventually people figured out that a) the internet mattered and, b) it was going dreadfully wrong. So my job changed again, from "how the internet is governed matters" to "you can't fix the internet with wishful thinking," for example, when people said we could solve its problems by banning general purpose computers:

https://memex.craphound.com/2012/01/10/lockdown-the-coming-war-on-general-purpose-computing/

Or by banning working cryptography:

https://memex.craphound.com/2018/09/04/oh-for-fucks-sake-not-this-fucking-bullshit-again-cryptography-edition/

Or by redesigning web browsers to treat their owners as threats:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2017/09/open-letter-w3c-director-ceo-team-and-membership

Or by using bots to filter every public utterance to ensure that they don't infringe copyright:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2018/09/today-europe-lost-internet-now-we-fight-back

Or by forcing platforms to surveil and police their users' speech (aka "getting rid of Section 230"):

https://www.techdirt.com/2020/06/23/hello-youve-been-referred-here-because-youre-wrong-about-section-230-communications-decency-act/

Along the way, many of us have coined words in a bid to encapsulate the abstract, technical ideas at the core of these arguments. This isn't a vanity project! Creating a common vocabulary is a necessary precondition for having the substantive, vital debates we'll need to tackle the real, thorny issues raised by digital systems. So there's "free software," "open source," "filternet," "chat control," "back doors," and my own contributions, like "adversarial interoperability":

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/10/adversarial-interoperability

Or "Competitive Compatibility" ("comcom"), a less-intimidatingly technical term for the same thing:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/12/competitive-compatibility-year-review

These have all found their own niches, but nearly all of them are just that: niche. Some don't even rise to "niche": they're shibboleths, insider terms that confuse and intimidate normies and distract from the real fights with semantic ones, like whether it's "FOSS" or "FLOSS" or something else entirely:

https://opensource.stackexchange.com/questions/262/what-is-the-difference-between-foss-and-floss

But every now and again, you get a word that just kills. That brings me to "enshittification," a word I coined in 2022:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/28/enshittification/#relentless-payola

"Enshittification" took root in my hindbrain, rolling around and around, agglomerating lots of different thoughts and critiques I'd been making for years, crystallizing them into a coherent thesis:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

This kind of spontaneous crystallization is the dividend of doing lots of work in public, trying to take every half-formed thought and pin it down in public writing, something I've been doing for decades:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/09/the-memex-method/

After those first couple articles, "enshittification" raced around the internet. There's two reasons for this: first, "enshittification" is a naughty word that's fun to say. Journalists love getting to put "shit" in their copy:

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/01/15/crosswords/linguistics-word-of-the-year.html

Radio journalists love to tweak the FCC with cheekily bleeped syllables in slightly dirty compound words:

https://www.wnycstudios.org/podcasts/otm/projects/enshitification

And nothing enlivens an academic's day like getting to use a word like "enshittification" in a journal article (doubtless this also amuses the editors, peer-reviewers, copyeditors, typesetters, etc):

https://scholar.google.com/scholar?hl=en&as_sdt=0%2C5&q=enshittification&btnG=&oq=ensh

That was where I started, too! The first time I used "enshittification" was in a throwaway bad-tempered rant about the decay of Tripadvisor into utter uselessness, which drew a small chorus of appreciative chuckles about the word:

https://twitter.com/doctorow/status/1550457808222552065

The word rattled around my mind for five months before attaching itself to my detailed theory of platform decay. But it was that detailed critique, coupled with a minor license to swear, that gave "enshittification" a life of its own. How do I know that the theory was as important as the swearing? Because the small wave of amusement that followed my first use of "enshittification" petered out in less than a day. It was only when I added the theory that the word took hold.

Likewise: how do I know that the theory needed to be blended with swearing to break out of the esoteric realm of tech policy debates (which the public had roundly ignored for more than two decades)? Well, because I spent two decades writing about this stuff without making anything like the dents that appeared once I added an Anglo-Saxon monosyllable to that critique.

Adding "enshittification" to the critique got me more column inches, a longer hearing, a more vibrant debate, than anything else I'd tried. First, Wired availed itself of the Creative Commons license on my second long-form article on the subject and reprinted it as a 4,200-word feature. I've been writing for Wired for more than thirty years and this is by far the longest thing I've published with them – a big, roomy, discursive piece that was run verbatim, with every one of my cherished darlings unmurdered.

That gave the word – and the whole critique, with all its spiky corners – a global airing, leading to more pickup and discussion. Eventually, the American Dialect Society named it their "Word of the Year" (and their "Tech Word of the Year"):

https://americandialect.org/2023-word-of-the-year-is-enshittification/

"Enshittification" turns out to be catnip for language nerds:

https://becauselanguage.com/90-enpoopification/#transcript-60

I've been dragged into (good natured) fights over the German, Spanish, French and Italian translations for the term. When I taped an NPR show before a live audience with ASL interpretation, I got to watch a Deaf fan politely inform the interpreter that she didn't need to finger-spell "enshittification," because it had already been given an ASL sign by the US Deaf community:

https://maximumfun.org/episodes/go-fact-yourself/ep-158-aida-rodriguez-cory-doctorow/

I gave a speech about enshittification in Berlin and published the transcript:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/30/go-nuts-meine-kerle/#ich-bin-ein-bratapfel

Which prompted the rock-ribbed Financial Times to get in touch with me and publish the speech – again, nearly verbatim – as a whopping 6,400 word feature in their weekend magazine:

https://www.ft.com/content/6fb1602d-a08b-4a8c-bac0-047b7d64aba5

Though they could have had it for free (just as Wired had), they insisted on paying me (very well, as it happens!), as did De Zeit:

https://www.zeit.de/digital/internet/2024-03/plattformen-facebook-google-internet-cory-doctorow

This was the start of the rise of enshittification. The word is spreading farther than ever, in ways that I have nothing to do with, along with the critique I hung on it. In other words, the bit of string that tech policy wonks have been pushing on for a quarter of a century is actually starting to move, and it's actually accelerating.

Despite this (or more likely because of it), there's a growing chorus of "concerned" people who say they like the critique but fret that it is being held back because you can't use it "at church or when talking to K-12 students" (my favorite variant: "I couldn't say this at a NATO conference"). I leave it up to you whether you use the word with your K-12 students, NATO generals, or fellow parishoners (though I assure you that all three groups are conversant with the dirty little word at the root of my coinage). If you don't want to use "enshittification," you can coin your own word – or just use one of the dozens of words that failed to gain public attention over the past 25 years (might I suggest "platform decay?").

What's so funny about all this pearl-clutching is that it comes from people who universally profess to have the intestinal fortitude to hear the word "enshittification" without experiencing psychological trauma, but worry that other people might not be so strong-minded. They continue to say this even as the most conservative officials in the most staid of exalted forums use the word without a hint of embarrassment, much less apology:

https://www.independent.ie/business/technology/chairman-of-irish-social-media-regulator-says-europe-should-not-be-seduced-by-mario-draghis-claims/a526530600.html

I mean, I'm giving a speech on enshittification next month at a conference where I'm opening for the Secretary General of the United Nations:

https://icanewdelhi2024.coop/welcome/pages/Programme

After spending half my life trying to get stuff like this into the discourse, I've developed some hard-won, informed views on how ideas succeed:

First: the minor obscenity is a feature, not a bug. The marriage of something long and serious to something short and funny is a happy one that makes both the word and the ideas better off than they'd be on their own. As Lenny Bruce wrote in his canonical work in the subject, the aptly named How to Talk Dirty and Influence People:

I want to help you if you have a dirty-word problem. There are none, and I'll spell it out logically to you.

Here is a toilet. Specifically-that's all we're concerned with, specifics-if I can tell you a dirty toilet joke, we must have a dirty toilet. That's what we're all talking about, a toilet. If we take this toilet and boil it and it's clean, I can never tell you specifically a dirty toilet joke about this toilet. I can tell you a dirty toilet joke in the Milner Hotel, or something like that, but this toilet is a clean toilet now. Obscenity is a human manifestation. This toilet has no central nervous system, no level of consciousness. It is not aware; it is a dumb toilet; it cannot be obscene; it's impossible. If it could be obscene, it could be cranky, it could be a Communist toilet, a traitorous toilet. It can do none of these things. This is a dirty toilet here.

Nobody can offend you by telling a dirty toilet story. They can offend you because it's trite; you've heard it many, many times.

https://www.dacapopress.com/titles/lenny-bruce/how-to-talk-dirty-and-influence-people/9780306825309/

Second: the fact that a neologism is sometimes decoupled from its theoretical underpinnings and is used colloquially is a feature, not a bug. Many people apply the term "enshittification" very loosely indeed, to mean "something that is bad," without bothering to learn – or apply – the theoretical framework. This is good. This is what it means for a term to enter the lexicon: it takes on a life of its own. If 10,000,000 people use "enshittification" loosely and inspire 10% of their number to look up the longer, more theoretical work I've done on it, that is one million normies who have been sucked into a discourse that used to live exclusively in the world of the most wonkish and obscure practitioners. The only way to maintain a precise, theoretically grounded use of a term is to confine its usage to a small group of largely irrelevant insiders. Policing the use of "enshittification" is worse than a self-limiting move – it would be a self-inflicted wound. As I said in that Berlin speech:

Enshittification names the problem and proposes a solution. It's not just a way to say 'things are getting worse' (though of course, it's fine with me if you want to use it that way. It's an English word. We don't have der Rat für englische Rechtschreibung. English is a free for all. Go nuts, meine Kerle).

Finally: "coinage" is both more – and less – than thinking of the word. After the American Dialect Society gave honors to "enshittification," a few people slid into my mentions with citations to "enshittification" that preceded my usage. I find this completely unsurprising, because English is such a slippery and playful tongue, because English speakers love to swear, and because infixing is such a fun way to swear (e.g. "unfuckingbelievable"). But of course, I hadn't encountered any of those other usages before I came up with the word independently, nor had any of those other usages spread appreciably beyond the speaker (it appears that each of the handful of predecessors to my usage represents an act of independent coinage).

If "coinage" was just a matter of thinking up the word, you could write a small python script that infixed the word "shit" into every syllable of every word in the OED, publish the resulting text file, and declare priority over all subsequent inventive swearers.

On the one hand, coinage takes place when the coiner a) independently invents a word; and b) creates the context for that word that causes it to escape from the coiner's immediate milieu and into the wider world.

But on the other hand – and far more importantly – the fact that a successful coinage requires popular uptake by people unknown to the coiner means that the coiner only ever plays a small role in the coinage. Yes, there would be no popularization without the coinage – but there would also be no coinage without the popularization. Words belong to groups of speakers, not individuals. Language is a cultural phenomenon, not an individual one.

Which is rather the point, isn't it? After a quarter of a century of being part of a community that fought tirelessly to get a serious and widespread consideration of tech policy underway, we're closer than ever, thanks, in part, to "enshittification." If someone else independently used that word before me, if some people use the word loosely, if the word makes some people uncomfortable, that's fine, provided that the word is doing what I want it to do, what I've devoted my life to doing.

The point of coining words isn't the pilkunnussija's obsession with precise usage, nor the petty glory of being known as a coiner, nor ensuring that NATO generals' virgin ears are protected from the word "shit" – a word that, incidentally, is also the root of "science":

https://www.arrantpedantry.com/2019/01/24/science-and-shit/

Isn't language fun?

Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/14/pearl-clutching/#this-toilet-has-no-central-nervous-system

[arkhammaid]

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ DEFINITIONS OF MUSIC.

fandom. formula one

pairing. charles leclerc x professional pianist fem!reader (fc: none)

about. y/n y/l/n is one of the celebreties who has gone viral during lockdown. when she publishes her first album, she raises a few eyebrows with a featured artist

content warnings. social media au, not edited/proofread

notes. this is a very self-indulgent fic... so you all better love it or else 🫵

YOURUSERNAME AND 3 OTHERS

liked by zendaya, hanszimmer and 14'083'874 others

yourusername and 3 others we're proud to announce the album DEFINITIONS. each of the 26 original composed pieces embrace the title itself, the feeling of these words. they're defined by our language and passion, a gift from us to you.

yourusername so happy our baby is finally out, thank you adrian, charles and jamie, for this partnership. i couldn't have done this without you!

hanszimmer This is music.

charles_leclerc And it's finally here! I had so much fun working on this, thank you @/yourusername for allowing me to be part of your project🥰

jamieduffyy absolutely incredible!! stream definitions now!!!

zendaya I'm sobbing over the whole alphabeth, who would've thought... this is 🤯🤯

user holyyyyy shittttttt

user 26 SONGS??? AND MOST OF THEM ARE OVER 4 MINS LONG WE'RE GETTING SPOILED FR

haileybieber listening this on repeat and still getting shivers, this is incredible work 💗

user the butterfly effect is so real here...

⤷ user if you told me i'd follow this one tiktoker because she went viral with her piano only to become a fan of men who drive in fancy circles...

⤷ user SO I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO'S NOW AN F1 FAN??

user sobbing over nepenthe on repeat

user CHARLES WITH LEMAN?? HELLO??? AND THEN ALSO PHILOCALY??? MY MAN STAND UP AND STOP WRITING LOVE LETTERS

⤷ user what.

⤷ user for the love of god, please look up what the words mean... charles really thought he was slick with this one

⤷ user oh my god.

load more comments

Y/N Y/L/N SHOCKS MUSIC WORLD WITH CLASSICAL ALBUM AND FEATURED ARTISTS! FIVE PIECES OF THE 26-PIECE ALBUM ARE IN THE INTERNATIONAL CHARTS. EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT 'DEFINITIONS'.

From Viral TikToker to Record Holder, Y/n brings Classical Music back in Trend.

By Sara Ristan | Published February 24, 2024

If you know anything about music, you know the current trends. Pop and Rap is what the current generation likes, with a few outliners. From the very beginning, Y/n seemed to be one of them as well. Her first release, 'A Sailor's Wish', has been trending along with 'Solas', by her fellow artist Jamie Duffy for many weeks.

Her other composed pieces never hit the same numbers, that was until she released a full album. 'Definitions' has 26 original composed pieces, mixed with piano and full orchestra. It's an album full of masterpieces, fully deserving the high praise it has been receiving the past few days.

Every piece in the Album is named after a rare word, each one of them beginning with a letter of the Alphabet. Most of them were composed by Y/n herself, her signature moves regognizable, if you're familiar with her music. If you wish to read a full analysis of the whole album, click here.

Notable, besides the mindblowing compositions, are also the featured artists. We have Adrian Berenguer, Charles Leclerc and Jamie Duffy- each of them well known in their niche. What has raised eyebrows however, is that unlike Adrian and Jamie, Charles himself. He's an athlete, a Formula One driver in fact and very well known. While his fans knew about his releases, singles and even an album with Sofiane Pamart, no one was prepared for the partnership with Y/n.

Especially the titles of the pieces, two of them speaking about love, one is even titled as 'Leman', which means lover. Are these two trying to give us hints?

Beside that, five of the 26 pieces are currently in the charts, having already gathered millions of streams within days. Absolutely mindblowing!

click to read more

CHARLES_LECLERC

liked by yourusername, zendaya and 3'099'738 others

charles_leclerc P1 in Driver Championship Standings, P1 in International Charts, P1 in your heart... I love you, mon amour

yourusername ugh, ugly sobbing crying rn, no one talk to me

yourusername i love you too you sap

⤷ charles_leclerc Guilty hehe

⤷ charles_leclerc Doesn't stop me from loving you, cherié

⤷ yourusername i never told you to stop

jamieduffy fucking finally

zendaya @/tomholland2013 why don't you write you love songs for me??

⤷ tomholland2013 you're the one who sings?

user WE WON!!! Y/N NATION WE FUCKING WON

user if you squint you can see me fucking dead BECAUSE WTF IS THIS THEYRE ACTUALLY TOGETHER I CAN NOT IM DEAD OH MYGOOODDDDDD

⤷ user lmao felt

user now we know how charles even agreed to y/n asking for a collab... he has always been down bad for her

⤷ yourusername you're so right

⤷ user OH MY GOD???

load more comments

taglist. @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @aimixx , @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @lupicalbestwolf , @akiraquote , @lpap , @lilypadlover , @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie , @namgification

DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE TAGLIST? please send a non-anon ask to be added to the taglist. taglist can be general taglist (all fandoms and all works), fandom taglist (all works within the fandom), series (all works for specific series) or nsfw taglist (all nsfw works and all fandoms).

crossed off tags mean i can't tag you!

ARKHAM MAID 2024

[specialagentartemis]

Coming skidding in just under the wire for @boombox-fuckboy’s Fiction Podcast Zine September!

This was an idea I had since the zine event was announced, but it felt very personal and I didn’t quite know how to go about making it. But I did want to reflect on what fiction podcasts have Meant To Me. And my delicate emotional state during 2020, lol.

Plain text transcription:

Cover: The Podcasts That Got Me Through COVID Lockdown.

Spread 1: In 2020, I was part of the lockdown contingent. [Drawing of a house] I chose a Masters Degree project I could do from my parents' basement, 2000 miles away from my university. I attended my MA graduation ceremony on Zoom in my dining room.

The loneliness and disconnection in ars PARADOXICA spoke to me. I recognized myself in Sally Grissom: asexual, of course; lonely; throwing myself into my research; clinging to friends far away. [A drawing of a brown-haired woman in a blue sweater, hunched over, writing.]

(I cried over Sally Grissom in the park.)

Spread 2: I lived - and locked down - in Metro Boston: not Boston proper, but close enough. I would go for a walk every morning, and the familiar Boston skyline greeted me. [Drawing of the Boston skyline including iconic buildings like the Prudential Center and the John Hancock Building.]

During this time, when my whole world shrank to a few blocks around my house and the park down the road, Greater Boston made me feel connected to the city, to the diversity of it, to the places so familiar to me, to my home.

(I cried over Michael's letters in the park.)

Spread 3: The comedy and tragedy, the surrealism and all-too-real groundedness of Arden [drawing of a blood splatter and a magnifying glass] took me on an emotional journey through just about every feeling there is, some of them really intense. [Drawing of a house on fire.]

But even the normal parts - going to work, parties, air travel - felt distant and surreal, and the ridiculous parody subscription service ads felt way too real. [Drawing of a box with a pair of green socks in it, a reference to a classic Arden ad.]

(When Brenda mentioned going out to a bar with coworkers for drinks after work, I cried. In the park.)

Back: Thank you to podcasts

for making me feel seen and understood,

making me feel connected and grounded,

and giving me an outlet for my feelings

during that insane and hectic and scary year.

[boombox-fuckboy]

Hey. Could you rec any podcasts with sapphic couples as their mains? Or a sapphic story. And so on. I only really know about where the stars fell and Alice isn't dead.

You're off to a strong start. Here's 20, there's more out there, but I tried to pick a variety. I'm going to put a ★ next to the ones I think will fit best, but they're all good.

Arden: (Fictional "True Crime", Investigative, Comedy). On the 25th of December, 2007, heiress and young actress Julie Capsom crashed her car into a tree and fled into a nearby forest clearing, leaving a trail that seemingly vanished into thin air, and a dismembered torso in the trunk. A decade later, Bea, the first reporter on the scene, and Brenda, a detective on the case, are hosting a true crime podcast about it, and neither is remotely impressed with what the other has to say. Arden is also a retelling of various Shakespeare plays.

The Author's Anathema: (Horror) Looking for some extra cash, and with some help from her girlfriend Eleanor, college student Natalie takes a small job to narrate an audiobook for a reclusive anonymous author. The book being a horror wouldn't be such a bother, but the stories within are... Familiar. Too familar.

The Beacon: (Urban Fantasy) Bee is a perpetually anxious university student who discovers she has the ability to create fire, and decides to start a podcast to find others like herself. She quickly discovers she's not alone, but a series of bizzare animal attacks suggest superpowered freshers are far from the only strange thing on campus.

The Department of Variance of Somewhere, Ohio: (Weird Fiction, Horror, Sci-Fi) On day one of a new job at the Department of Variance, in the middle of her workplace orientation, Jasmine's new workplace goes into lockdown. Guided via walkie-talkie by Scarlet, an experienced security officer, Jasmine must make her way down 20-odd shifting floors of strange entities and experiments. Ideally without becoming one of them. As a disclaimer, this one is the only addition to this list that isn't actively romantic yet, however there are canonically sapphic characters, and I am fairly confident it's headed that way.

★ Elixir: (Urban Fantasy, Romance) Set in a fantasy world's equivalent of the american prohibition, lawmakers daughter Elsie approaches someone unexpected in search of her missing sister: Vera, an alchemist and propriator of the local now-elicit hush bar.

The Far Meridian: (Magical Realism) An agorophobic young woman wakes up to discover her lighthouse home has moved overnight. It quickly becomes clear this isn't a once-off, and she decides to use this as an opportunity to search for her missing brother, having some strange encounters along the way.

Interference: (Fantasy, Sci-Fi, Romance) Jacq is a D&D podcaster. Geneva is an orc scientist studying ancient human ruins the next world over. What happens when these women from different realities begin picking up each other's broadcasts?

Khôra Podcast: (Sci-Fi) Somewhere between adapted from and inspired by various greek myths, Khôra follows four women who deserved better (Atalanta, Echo, Medea, and Medusa) on a grand space adventure to find the golden fleece while keeping out of the reach of the olympians who own and run the galaxy.

★ Mabel: (Mystery, Supernatural, Horror, Romance). The live-in carer of a dying elderly woman attempts to contact her granddaughter, with little success. The contents of voicemails only get stranger, and what starts as a subtley creepy mystery-horror develops to poetic lesbian fae body-horror.

★ Midnight Radio: (Light Supernatural, Romance). Sybil McIntyre, host of the ever-popular 1950's nightly radio hour, begins exchanging letters with an old fan who has reluctantly returned to visit Sybil's beloved town.

Mina's Story: (Sci-Fi, Romance Elements) Still dealing with a major loss in her family, a young woman volunteers for a long-term cryonics project. The episodes are her audio logs after waking up each time, always the same place but centuries after she went to sleep. A story about grief, change, and the intersection of past and future.

Mirrors: (Sci-fi, Mystery, Supernatural). The audio journal of three women from different periods (past, present, and future) who seem to share little in common bar the strange inhuman, ghostly figures they have started seeing.

Night Life: (Supernatural, Noir) Utterly wacky one-episode story (more of a short audio movie) about an ex-vampire hunter turned private eye who finds herself dealing with the shenanigans of mafia and vampires in the wake of an upcoming mayoral election. Find it on the feed for The Lightning Bottler.

The Night Post: (Supernatural, Mystery). The conscripted couriers of Gilt City are both respected and shunned, integral to the city's function, but inexplicably tied to the supernatural. It's not something they like to talk about. When his husband goes missing on the job, Milo is called to take over. Clementine took over from her father a long time ago, yet recently someone else with her face has been delivering her own unsent letters. Val's not going to discuss how she ended up there, but she will absolutely open people's mail (filled with their own supernatural tales) to read aloud.

Palimpsest, Season 2: (Horror, Romance, Fantasy Elements). Set in the 1800s, a young woman becomes the maid to a supposed fairy noblewoman, who is being kept as one of many "denizens", living curiousities, in a large house. Each season is a different story, this is Season 2.

★ The Pasithea Powder: (Sci-Fi, Thriller?) The last major interplanetary war was full of atrocities, but none more infamous then the creation of Pasithea Powder, a memory altering drug which was used to horrible effect and landed it's entire team of creators in prison. So when decorated war hero Captain Sophie Green sees one of them wandering free, worlds away from his prison, she gets in touch with a very old, estranged friend: one Dr. Jane Gonzalez, who's behind bars for the very same reason.

Starship Q Star: (Sci-Fi, Comedy) The small crew of a tone-deaf space agency's attempt at a PR mission wake up at Mars to discover that they - and the one botanist abandoned on Mars base - are now the last surviving members of humanity. Co-captains and ex-girlfriends Aurelia and Sim must now dedicate themselves to protecting their crew and finding a new home, but they're rarely on the same page about how best to do it.

★ The Strange Case of Starship Iris: (Sci-Fi) When the shuttle carrying the crew of scientific research ship Iris explodes, Violet Liu finds herself stranded in space, the last survivor with no way out. Until her emergency broadcast is picked up by a passing ship. But the crew aren't who they seem to be, there's more going on here than anyone knows yet, and Violet must decide who she can really trust.

Unwell: (Supernatural). Lily Harper revisits her supposedly haunted childhood home to help take care of her aging mother. The house is weird, sure, but there's something far stranger haunting the town of Mount Absolm than simply ghosts.

Weaver: (Supernatural, Romance Elements). The musings of the entity within the old house about the girl she fell in love with (the only thing she can remember), and her two new coinhabitants, who do not yet know she exists.

[transdimensional-haboob]

Headcanons I've been cooking;

-the paradise theater doing a mystery science theater 3000 bit most days (I'm like 90% sure that its basically the equivalent in their multiverse anyway, oops)

-frank and clementine still tries to keep contact and make visits if even possible anymore. June likes to receive letters and postcards as a loose penpal relationship as proof of their "mad lib situation"

-I feel robbed that June and Ava didn't interact much, they'd have so much fun and nobody would be able to handle these bar buds. Never mind theres probably a reason why these two aren't allowed in a bar together, but I love their raw chaos and hijinks would definitely go on

-Gloria makes the storage closet her room at first but when Caspar gets back, he gives her the main office since she's da b0ss now, she still spends a lot of time camping with her bts wolves making stew for them, its her own therapy

-Leif putting together a game console for the gang when theyre bored, Caspar is the best at retro games surprisingly aside from the fact hes been asking for a pinball machine forever, everyone cracks old man jokes. Mostly David and Ava, his biggest hecklers <3

-eventually they begin to cultivate a small arcade, leif fixes up a few machines for the diner (its free) kids across the cosmos go 'you mean you have to play the game with your hands?? Its like a baby's toy :/" caspar is flabbergasted, Leif just shrugs and goes "i warned you bro" and does more Leif shit

-David plays cod on their designated staff console in the office space in their down time between shifts. Feet kicked up and the lazy fan blowing, do you see my vision? this is the most important highlight so far

-David used to stream sometimes on earth in LA for funsies now and then during lockdown when he wasnt up for running out at night vandalizing the blank canvas known as the streets

-he still talks to his mom and plays catch up even from space despite the time it takes to send messages. David continues to find her drunk calls entertaining (canon anyway) Caspar doesn't really drink alcohol and is worried about the loss of control, I think hes just anxious and insecure about it.

*I don't really think caspar was much of a dick when he drank raising david, he probably was a rambling annoying dad with a shitty attitude that was hard to tolerate. like, okay, old man, we get it the world sucksss stop being so sad and let's play legos and not roleplay the state of the economic decline about it (shh, I'm not projecting gay son and drunk well meaning dad dynamics)

-Ava peer pressures Caspar *only* for celebrations anyway

-micheladas for everyone the next day, some sweet hair of the dog when the various drank theyre able to get their hands on is too much to cope with the next day if they still even have moonshine to spare left

-Leif stocks up on so much fucking hash whilst in Pasadena (as one does stuck in shitty corners of California for hangovers, generalized depression, and dread. hence all the alcohol mentions I'm not promoting alcoholic diner dwellers I swear-) which tbh parallels the way Ava stocks up nicotine from ye old moonshiner imo

Idk I have more I might add and tack on later I love these doofuses

[weredoingeverythingwrong]

Project 2025 is Terrifyingly Real

Project 2025 is Real!

Fear.

I have always had an undying love for the dystopian fiction novels that have long littered the YA genre and as I've gotten older, this has not changed. Books like Hunger Games, Divergent, The Uglies, Birthmarked, etc ruled the imagination of my adolescence as I pictured a world of such obvious dysfunction. The world in these books were always resolved by disruptive heroes working against the status quo. I stayed in suspense as I read the hero of my stories challenge their world order, fear made me grip my books as I read of the capture of my hero, and an uneasy relief as I finished the final chapter of the destruction of another morally bankrupt society so a new one could be built. This is what I lived for.

What I did not sign up for... is feeling the same fear and suspense and NONE of the relief, in my own reality. I have questioned the morals of society on several occasions, but never have I ever felt such an inescapable fear of the world as I do now. I know I am not the only one still carrying the anxiety that gripped the world in 2020 that never really went away, even when the masks and the social distance masks began to disappear.

**The lockdown changed the world. Here in the U.S, the change was obvious. Covid put the world on pause for really the first time in a long time, in a way society really hadn't endured in a long time, if ever. When the distractions of work, your social life, and the hustle and bustle of your existence are halted, you have no choice but to take an overview in a way it isn't practical to do when life is lifing. Many were fighting for their lives or watching family fight for their lives. What do I mean? I mean there were no distractions. There was nothing to do, but take stock of the life we live. It's no surprise that in the void of the well-placed distractions and propaganda, social justice issues and protests reached the level they did. This is also why I believe there was a need to return the American people back to their lives because they were paying too much attention. Black lives matter, the #metoo movement, and the rise of cancel culture began to become popular and movements that focused on action-based policies took ahold of Americans (I'll discuss this more thoroughly in another post.)

Four years later, we have learned so much. The misinformation age has reached fever pitch and the country has never been more divided. The division across race, gender, and class has never been stronger and internal biases reconfirmed by persuasive algorithms have brought us here. Here is the genocide of the Palestinian people, the attempted re-colonization of Ayiti, and the rise of the fascist regime of the United States. I am scared. Never has this life felt to unreal, and so much like the fictional worlds of my favorite books, but there is no chapter close or hero to await. It's just us.

Project 2025 is real. The rise of the white supremacist, christian regime and the crack down on democracy. If you have been paying attention, the agenda has been made clear.

The 1% will reap the rewards of their greed and the work force must oblige. There can be no dissent. Unions and protests are not acceptable and will be crushed with force. You will not be protected. You have no right to your body, your privacy, or your image. Your democratically-elected leader has no laws or consequences for their actions (If you haven't check out Sotomayer's dissent letter, here.)

We have long outgrown the needs of 17th century politics and the constitution has been exploited to fit the needs of the 21st century oligarchs.

The children of the future are being made illiterate, pushed away from formal education, and they are being taught even less. Laws are being repealed and allowing children more access to becoming part of the labor force. These are the future voters and citizens of this country will not be educated enough to organize, learn, or properly create community against a new status quo.

Come November even if we vote blue, we will just be pausing an inevitable coup of democracy.

This post may be a gasp of despair, but I still have hope for the people around me. I still believe we can prevail. I believe we can create a world that generations will learn about and can thrive.

We are doing everything wrong.

We can still make it right.

** Covid-19 is still very much a thing that was mishandled and was the very real plight of many. I have edited the post to reflect lock down instead of covid-19, for clarity and to not reduce covid-19 to a simple pause in life, when it was very real fatal pandemic for many.

[musical-chan]

Father of Time Chapter 79: Offerings

It took longer than Zelda wanted to execute her plan.

There was an emergency in the castle that upset her schedule horribly. Instead of lessons with Impa the day after Link's letter, there were security lockdowns and endless drills all because a suspicious package left in a corridor had convinced the King that the Gerudo were attempting to assassinate him.  In truth, it had been a careless servant dropping laundry and not retrieving it the way they ought but none of the servants (or Zelda even) were going to tell any of the soldiers that. The offender had promised to be more careful and the potential threat of punishment from the King was more than enough to assure it would not be repeated. 

So instead of going out, Zelda and Impa had practised quietly in a hidden room and she discussed her plans with the Sheikah woman.  Impa had understood, of course, and knew it was the proper thing to do, though she had concerns.

"It should be your father doing this." 

"No, actually, I studied the liturgy. It should be my mother but, in her absence, a princess is a proper substitute.  A king can do it in certain circumstances but, though I'm a bit young, I'm old enough to be doing my duty."

"But–"

"Plus, Impa, father doesn't know who he is and I don't want him to know yet. That would make life so much more difficult for Link and that's not fair." 

(Read the rest on AO3!)

[fayewoodss]

im curious to see some of your quilting work?

OF COURSE!!!

So, to be honest, I'm more of a soft sculptor turned contemporary quilter. I rarely traditionally quilt, and even when I do, I love to bend and break the rules. I'll go ahead and link my professional website here with some more detail into my fine art overall:

https://averyschantzfinearts.com/

Now, onto quilting!

My recent recent piece is "Deep Blue." It's a 12x12 square of two beautiful whales, with most of the quilting being hand-done, and lots of embroidery work.

It's a little wonky and wrinkly because of my lack of care for traditional quilting, so that is an intentional choice. I can be much cleaner with sewing and quilting, I just like for my work to have that handmade quality and a touch of naivety.

These are works from my last year in college. The first piece was my first time playing with quilting and we were talking about what is/can be a flag. A lot of my most personal work deals with maps and map making because I grew up moving around every 1-3 years and have always pondered with the concept of being "from" somewhere. I ended up painting on it for the final piece, but I have destroyed the evidence because I hated it. I plan to redo this one someday and actually use grommets to make it a real flag. (And I have a painting series I'm planning surrounding maps of residential midwest/rural America.)

This next quilt was a pain in the ass because I had to do it twice out of my hubris. My first run through has many mistakes and issues that overwhelmed me, so with a week left in the project, I scrapped it, started over entirely, and again: hand-stitched many of the details. The hand stitching doesn't show well here because I picked embroidery floss that matched the fabric, and sadly I don't have detail shots. The piece is currently in storage, but I could easily get to it.

I wanted to put udders on the letters but ran out of time. 😔 I would love to revisit this and do more farm animals.

Finally, and most recently, I have my ragdolls!

Runaway Ragdoll is my own designed toy that ties into location and belonging. I have too many pictures to share all of them here because it is a product I sell. They are an interactive art project where those who buy a doll are encouraged to take it out with them to fun places, photograph it, and send the photos into one of my Instagrams (runawayragdollco), hopefully creating a project that people can connect with as they have a fun, cute little toy that can be shared. It's based off a larger doll I made during the lockdown year at my school where I was trying to get myself out of the dorm. The idea was to leave the big doll around my city for people to interact with, but Covid restrictions and weather prevented that. So, I made the little dolls.

The project is a little dead right now because all of my sales have only veen close friends and family as you can't get any reach on most social medias nowadays unless you're doing fan art or common art tropes. Now that that's bad at all, but trying to sell truly original work is a challenge. I do need to add more about the dolls' actual purpose and story on my website. I'm also working on making a card to be packaged with them with the projects mission statement and travel prompts with the doll. I'm hoping to get into some more art fairs soon and sell the dolls there.

Also, the construction of the original doll is not the best, so I do plan to make a new one in the future that reflects the current smaller dolls and incorporates more quilting techniques (because damn I rush a few part with hot glue ngl).

But yeah, that's my quilting/fiber arts stuff!!! 🤩

[gargoyleandgremlinpress]

A collection of MDZS junior-centric modern AU stories, by Sanguis. Title from the fic tags.

So, this fall I read four short modern college AU stories by Sanguis (@bel-ennui), and the heartfelt, comedy-of-errors tone was just what I needed in the moment. The first three (The Tides Turn Quickly, Yearning, and Where The Day Flows) are all different takes on the same premise, that it's spring 2020, the junior cultivators are college students, and that it's not common knowledge that Professors Wei and Lan are married. Watching the interconnected relationships be accidentally revealed three times over in three different ways filled me with an immense amount of glee, and the fourth story, We Gather Here, is about going to the first family gathering post-lockdown with your boyfriend, and made a fitting coda.

The bookcloth is made from some leftover fabric a friend gave me from mask-making, fittingly enough. The endpapers are from my wife's stash of painting experiments with gel-plate printing. The title and cover image were applied with acrylic paint and a Cricut-cut vinyl stencil.

This was my first quarto-sized book (letter-sized paper cut and folded into a quarter of the sheet instead of half) and it's a supremely satisfying size to make! This is just under 20,000 words in 172 pages. I've definitely got a few more projects in mind in the 20-40k word length.

[dreamypurplesky]

So I wrote a letter for my ex best friend who doesn't want to talk to me anymore for reasons best known to him. I never post anything I write because that makes me feel vulnerable and I hate it. But this time I figured that if there's even a slightest chance of this letter reaching him, it's through the internet and not in the depths of my notes app. So I'm baring my soul to strangers by putting this out there, please treat it kindly.

A letter to my dearest friend.

Yes, you heard it right. You're my dearest friend even if we don't talk anymore. Actually, that doesn't change anything at all, nothing can. You'll always be my dearest friend. Suck it up. I'm writing this because I'm starting to forget you and it scares the shit out of me. I was laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, reminiscing our time together - like I've done countless nights so far. More specifically, I was trying to piece together a poem about you in which I needed to list a few things that you like. My mind went blank for a brief moment. That's not good. I used to be able to instantly say that you liked music, making music. You also liked playing basketball and training in jiu-jitsu and programming. You liked looking up at the stars. You liked talking about philosophical stuff and you liked photography. That was what brought us closer in the first place. You liked working out and you liked mangoes. This is just me panicking and noting down everything I remember about you so if it ever starts to fade away, I can come back here to retain my memory. You also liked me. Oh, how could I ever forget that? You were probably the first person who ever actually liked me. I never thought I'd have to try so hard not to forget you. Our memories have claw marks on them from me holding on too tight. But I guess it was stupid of me to expect this to last forever. I mean, the world was in lockdown when we met so we were just two kids who had plenty of time to kill. Looking back, it probably didn't mean anything more than that to you. Or did it? I don't know. The way you moved on so easily tells me my guess is correct. However, it was very real for me. It was more than just a friendship developed out of boredom. You showed me who I really am, taught me how to value myself, and left me with so many beautiful moments to cherish. I've always told everyone I've met after you that there can never be another guy like you. I adore you, I really do. And it has got me fucked up. I'm out here stalking your Linkedin, for fuck's sake, like someone who has lost their goddamn mind. You've got a girlfriend and a big boy job and all, why would you bother to engage with a sad girl you met online who wrote poems about you? I understand your decision. I'll always understand. I promised, remember? Nothing you do will ever be looked down upon by me.

Tumhari narazagi bhi hume qubool hai,

kyuki vo tumhari hai.

Or jo tumhara hai,

vo mujhe sabse pyaara hai.

(Even your abandonment is accepted by me, as it is yours. And what's yours, is the dearest to me)

I wake up in the middle of the night and frantically check my discord to see if, perhaps, a miracle occurred that made you text. I always go back to sleep disheartened. But it's okay, I don't blame any of it on you. In fact, I'm grateful that I even got to know you. And I'm so pissed at myself for letting you go that first time. I am sorry for taking you granted. Your birthday's coming up soon and as much as I want to wish you, I don't want you to think I'm some desperate creep, even though I am. So I'll just write a note on The Unsent Project and console myself. If this message ever reaches you av, know that you can always come back to me. Even if it's 50 years later and the world is ending. I'll always wait to hear from you again.

[singeratlarge]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to one of my heroes Cliff Richard + 2 stories to tell: It’s still strange to me that Cliff Richard has sold millions of records, made movies, is a musical institution throughout the English-speaking world (and beyond), and is called “The English Elvis Presley,” yet he still barely registers in America. John Lennon said there was no British rock’n’roll worth listening to before Cliff. His back-up band, The Shadows (legends on their own), were led by trail-blazing guitarist Hank Marvin—who inspired a legion of young Brits to pick up a guitar, from Jeff Beck to George Harrison to Mark Knopfler.

In 1979 I became a big Cliff fan, and he became a role model to me for his disciplined, wide-ranging vocalizing, which matches his lifestyle He’s been making records since 1958, but I favor his gospel projects and post-1974 records with Bruce Britten and Alan Tarney. They remodeled his sound, re-inventing Cliff’s sound to reach audiences who favored New Wave, roots rock, and synth-pop.

2 STORIES: 1) I worked with Davy Jones (Monkees) for 20 years. At home he kept a stash of signed books and recordings from people he’d intersected with over the years—June Carter & Johnny Cash, Donovan, Mark Farner, Paul McCartney, Johnny Tillotson, etc. David had good stories to go with these items, but he fondly recalled that his first autograph came from Cliff. David was 12 at the time and said it was one of the few times he felt “starstruck” (little did David know he’d be signing countless autographs not long after).

2) In 1986 I was nudged to submit my song “Please Don’t Wait too Long” to Cliff with the aim of having him cover it. I contacted management, sent my LP and a cover letter, and the weeks passed. Right when I thought it was another pitch into the abyss, I received a kind letter from Cliff and his manager Bill Latham. They carefully critiqued the song and, while Cliff declined on doing it, he told me to send more tunes and to keep in touch. Then I got busy with a band and projects and didn’t follow through, but Cliff’s letter was a huge encouragement in a hectic time.

Here's a clip of Cliff from during the pandemic lockdown, and at age 84 he’s still out on the road!

HB CR and thank you for setting a high bar spiritually and creatively, and getting us to “move it!”

#cliffrichard #theshadows #hankmarvin #davyjones #monkees #johnnyjblair #happybirthday

[periwinckles]

LETTERS FROM NEW PANEM - CHAPTER 12

(Madge x Rye drabble)

“Good morning, Madge.”

Monday morning, he asked if he could walk me to school to which I suspiciously obliged. We talked about Pride and Prejudice, as it turns out we both read it during lockdown. I kept waiting for him to flirt with me, if only to confirm what I suspected about him all along. He did not.

Tuesday I came down with Les Miserables in my hand, just in case he was there. He was. He didn't ask to walk with me, he just did it, like we had some sort of silent agreement (we didn’t.) He never read it and I let him borrow it, as he no longer has access to the school library. Turns out he has a lot of spare time when he’s working the counter and it’s not rush hour. I hope for him to flirt with me. He does not.

On Wednesday he doesn’t show up, and I berate myself for feeling disappointed. Surely he has better things to do than to walk to school with a book nerd. Turns out he was working, and when I go by the bakery in late afternoon he acts like nothing is amiss.

Today is Thursday and he is standing in my front step.

Read the rest on AO3.

[jammie3132]

REPOST FROM 11/6/2023

Fandom: Glee Pairing: Blaine Anderson & Sebastian Smythe Chapter Title: Real Life isn't a Fairy Tale Chapter Summary: Sebastian can't decide if he and Blaine are soul mates like his Nana claims, or two people destined to be each other's "would've, could've, should've" been. Warning: Death of non-canon character

10 Days of Seblaine 2023 Day 1: Soulmates

One Year Later

Sebastian looked at himself in the mirror and sighed. Does he have enough time to shave? Should he have gotten a haircut? Does he like the frames on his new glasses? It’s been a month and he still wasn’t sure.

He opened his dresser drawer to get his watch and saw the letter Blaine gave Steph. He hadn’t read it since that day but remembered every word.

Blaine Devon Anderson, the 2nd strongest person he’d ever met (of course, Nana was first) had a breakdown. It was so bad he left NYADA prior to the end of semester for a wellness center in California. He wanted to be the one to tell him to make it clear it had nothing to do with Sir Knight abruptly cutting off communication. Also, how his aunt delaying his Showcase put him in academic no-man’s land, but he didn’t blame June. He would’ve done the same thing if a member of his family fell down a flight of stairs and broke their hip.

The breakdown happened because several issues he’d refused to deal with came to a head at the same time, which happened to coincide with the anniversary of the lockdown.

The bright spot was he broke up with Hummel. Annabelle showed him video Santana took of the ridiculous proposal. A quicky wedding in Vegas? Blaine deserved more than that, proving he’d been right since high school. The should have never been former Warbler was always too good for old Gayface.

“I’m supposed to be the overthinker in this relationship.”

He turned around and smiled for the first time he could remember. Blaine was sitting against the headboard of his bed, wearing only a strategically placed towel and eating a cronut.

“Get out of my head Anderson.”

“Never going to happen Smythe. You want half of my cronut?”

“I’m good. I don’t have much of an appetite.”

“Your loss.” Blaine took a bite, followed by a porn worthy moan. “You were right. This cronut is much better than the ones in NYC.”

“NYC focuses on the donut. Paris focuses on the croissant.” As Blaine took another bite, Sebastian felt his earlier happiness begin to wain.

“I’m really glad you’re here.”

“I was backpacking through Europe, not Mars. Getting to Paris wasn’t hard.”

Blaine spent 6 months at the wellness center. When his parents picked him up, he told them he didn’t want to go home…NYC or Ohio. He was taking some of the money Cooper’s mom left him and backpack through Europe. Charles and Pam weren’t high on the idea because it was October. He said he was going anyway but promised if weather became an issue, he’d go to Château sur la colline.

Yes, even if Sebastian is filming in another country. It will give his Nana a chance to show me all his embarrassing baby pictures.

The Andersons accepted the compromise, but Blaine never traveled to Paris…until this morning. When Sebastian woke up, the traveler was sitting cross-legged on the end of his bed, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world…and hadn’t seen a bar of soap in weeks. He was promptly escorted to the shower. “Whatever, I’m just happy you’re here now.”

“So, since I’m here and you don’t have to leave for another hour, want to talk about your parents?”

“No”

“Too bad, I do.”

Sebastian walked over to the chair by his picture window. Joining Blaine on the bed wasn’t a good idea. But neither was having this particular conversation. “What’s there to talk about?”

“They tried to see you a week ago and you had them arrested…and extradited back to Ohio. Nothing about that you want to talk about?”

“They should’ve gone to jail for causing Nana’s fall.”

“And they will, after the US Justice Department gets through all the shit your dad pulled as State’s Attorney and your mother did on his behalf.”

“I don’t care.”

“You’re the one who went back to Ohio when they were on vacation, got into the house and found the evidence your father was falsifying against Dalton and some of the Warblers for their steroid trials. You’re the one who turned over the evidence, starting the Federal investigation…and you don’t care?”

“No, because I got to go to McKinley and see for myself that you were safe after the lockdown. Then I got my perfect, but totally cliché, first kiss with you in the pouring rain.”

Blaine flashed him a teenage Sebastian worthy smirk. “You got a lot more than a first kiss.”

“I’m seeing your dad later! I thought we agreed to never discuss that night again!”

“Oh no, you aren’t getting off that easy. I had to watch my dad’s face as all the clues went into place like a jigsaw puzzle. He didn’t hear him say he couldn’t decide whether to give us a birds and bees lecture or high five because I was gone for HOOUURRS! Or how my going back to Kurt made less sense because…HOOUURRS!”

“Please, please, can we talk about anything else?”

“We can go back to talking about your parents.”

“No”

“One last question?”

“Fine but choose wisely. I’m done with Xavier and Marie Smythe…especially today.”

“Were they the reason you pushed me away? Why you kept telling me to go back to the life you chose? To go back to Kurt?”

“Yes, I knew they would find a way to weaponize my feelings for you. That was the reason I cut off, or at least tried to cut you off, after Nana’s fall. If they found out I was communicating with someone I called Prince Charming…I couldn’t take the chance. It would’ve been worse if they found out he was actually you.”

“Ok, I get it but what about after our night together?”

“With the way things ended with Hummel, you’d never be able to let go. You’d always wonder what you could’ve done to fix the relationship. If you were ever to move on, hopefully with me, it had to be your decision to leave.”

“You were playing a dangerous game.”

“I had complete faith that Hummel would fuck it up, and he did. Has Santana had to call the cops on him yet?”

“Why haven’t you asked Annabelle? She moved into my house when she and Santana made their relationship official.”

“I haven’t seen Annabelle in a couple of months. Since we were filming in Greece, Benny decided to check on me personally.”

“Check on you or check out the beaches?”

“Both”

“Sounds like your manager. And no, Santana hasn’t called the cops, as far as I know. My parents considered a restraining order when my ex didn’t get the message I wanted nothing to do with him…and had left the state. But evidently, Santana, Sam and Marley are developing a mission to troll Kurt hard when the pictures of you shaking hands with Kate Middleton at your British premiere are published. My parents put the order on hold so they didn’t screw up their plans.”

*groooaaan* “Don’t remind me!”

“Of your movie’s British premier? Aren’t all James Bond movies first premiered in London?”

“I shot my sex scene with Hailee right before filming went on hiatus…”

“How was it?” Blaine asked as he wiggled his eyebrows.

Sebastian responded with a middle finger. “She’s a girl so some of my best acting was required. The point is, because the film will be PG-13, they can briefly show my ass.”

“How briefly?”

“30 seconds”

“Awesome”

This time it was a double middle finger response. “No, not awesome.”

“Why not? Didn’t they tell you beforehand they were showing your ass?”

“I was aware, but 30 seconds is longer than you think, and I forgot something very important.”

“What?”

“IMAX. My ass is going to be out for the world to see on 100 foot scenes. The premiere in London will be on an IMAX screen. My giant ass is going to moon the Prince and Princess of Wales! This isn’t funny!”

“First of all, I’m pretty sure IMAX screens aren’t that big. Secondly, you’re right, this isn’t funny. It’s amazing. When I get back to NYC, I’m doing a complete remodel of the basement. Gut everything and expand the theater. I’m getting the biggest home screen possible!”

Before Sebastian could reply, the alarm he’d set on his phone went off. Talking with Blaine, despite the topics, had been a welcome distraction. “I really don’t want to do this.”

“Your Nana is being awarded the Grand Cross of the Legion of Honour. It’s the most prestigious award France awards civilians, but it’s usually world leaders. As much as she loves June and Steph…”

“She would be crushed if I didn’t go.”

“Bingo! Now go put on your jacket and fix your tie. With all the practice you got at Dalton, I can’t believe you did such a shitty job.”

Sebastian went back to his dresser to check in the mirror “There’s nothing wrong with my tie.”

“Seb? Who are you talking to?”

He spun around so fast he almost fell. Steph was standing in the doorway and there was no sign of Blaine. It took Sebastian a moment to realize he hadn’t been there to begin with. “No one, I was practicing what I’m going to say.”

“Liar, you were talking to Blaine.”

His cousin knew him too well. “Has anyone heard from him?”

“Not that I’ve heard. Charles, Pam, Sam, Santana, Trent, and Annabelle have all tried to contact him. I even tried. He’s completely off grid.”

“I just thought…”

“That if Blaine was your soulmate, like your Nana constantly told you, he would’ve just known you needed him and found a way to be here today?”

Sebastian ran his fingers through his hair and once again regretted not getting a haircut. “I must sound like an idiot who's watched too many Rom-coms. Someone who believed that Sir Knight and Prince Charming would find a way to be together and not be stuck in this right person/wrong time paradox for eternity. I guess what they say is true…real life isn’t a fairy tale. But damn it, I own a fucking castle!”

Someone clearing her throat put an end to their conversation.

“Boys, the car is here” June told them before giving them each a hug. Then she reached out and patted Sebastian’s cheek. He was well aware she wasn’t a fan of his facial hair. “Your Nana loved you more than anyone, except possibly my brother, her soulmate. You finding that kind of love was her greatest wish.”

“Can we not do this today?” Sebastian (kind of) whined while shaking his head. “I can’t believe I agreed to this dog and pony show.”

June Dolloway was not biologically related to his grandmother. However, after 50 years of being more like sisters than friends, they looked remarkedly similar when pissed off. “Juliette Dumas-Alexander was a treasure. She helped more people in France during her lifetime than the government has in 100 years. She deserves to be celebrated. Sebastian, as much as you want to deny it, you are now the head of the Dumas family. Certain things are expected of you. Do not downplay the importance of this memorial by acting like the petulant brat you once were! Do you understand?”

He never denied what his grandmother’s death meant for him. He just wasn’t ready to accept it. “Yes Ma’am. Let’s get this over with. I mean, we should be going. There are people waiting for our arrival.”

The ceremony was a colossal cluster fuck before Sebastian walked in the doors. In the past year he’d done two campaigns for Dior, been on the cover of Men’s Vogue and was finally introduced to the public as Andrew, son of James Bond. He lost track of how many interviews he did for that. Much to the studio’s relief, with the exception of the expected haters and homophobes, the reactions to his being gay and Andrew having both a female love interest and an ex-boyfriend were positive. However, like with his ass on IMAX, there was a side effect of his newfound fame he’d dismissed regardless of Annabelle’s constant warnings.

Fangirls…and boys

There were hundreds of them standing outside the cathedral, waiting in the rain for just a glimpse of him. It was insane! Fortunately, with all the dignitaries attending, security was ridiculously tight. There was some scattered squealing but most of his fans were respectful. He’d send out a tweet thanking them later.

It got worse as soon as the damn thing began. When the President of France came to him with the idea for a memorial, he kept saying celebration of all the good Juliette had done for people of France. What it became was an endless rotation of politicians, minor European royalty and heads of charities giving eulogies on what Juliette Dumas-Alexander meant to them.

The world was shocked to find out Juliette left the entire Dumas Estate/Foundation (with provisions for June and Stephan) to My Darling Boy, Sebastian Alexander Smythe. However, extended family was far more pissed than shocked. They (somehow) convinced his parents to come back to France and contest the will on the basis his mother was Nana's only child, ignoring the fact there were arrest warrants for them in both France and the US...BIG MISTAKE. But it didn't matter. Nana left behind a video explaining her reasoning. According to the lawyers, it made the will iron uncontestable. An emergency hearing prior to his parents' extradition back to the US confirmed their assessment.

And now these assholes chose Nana’ memorial service to practically beg him for money. Again…BIG MISTAKE.

After more than 2 hours, it was his turn to speak, representing the family. Since he was last, when he finished the President was to present him with his grandmother’s (posthumous) Grand Cross of the Legion of Honour. That was to be followed by a celebration of life video montage. So much had happened, he'd forgotten sometime during the service Annabelle (when did she get there?) sent him a message stating she fixed the problem with the music for the montage so not to worry. There'd been a problem with the music? They had a fucking 50 person choir (the only good part of the day) who sang Nana's favorite hymns between speakers.

Couldn’t anything go right?

By the time he was at the pulpit, he was so upset he wasn’t going to stop himself from doing something unworthy of the new head of the Dumas family. He locked eyes with his Aunt June, and mouthed I’m sorry. Then he found the people paying respects on behalf of both Dior and the movie. He gave them a look hinting he was about to do something they weren’t going to like. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission.

“My name is Sebastian Alexander Smythe. Juliette Dumas-Alexander was my Nana. I loved her more than anything and am honored she chose me to continue her legacy. While many of you might believe you know me through my work with Dior and interviews for my upcoming movie, I promise you don’t. For example, my bullshit detector is legendary. Because of this, it was obvious from the beginning every person who gave a so-called eulogy today was attempting to hit me up for money. That was not only disgraceful and insulting to both me and my grandmother, it was stupid. As of today, I am ending your funding. None of you are getting another dime.”

He didn’t say another word, going back to his seat next to Stephen, ignoring the President of France standing next to the podium with his grandmother’s medal. The hundreds of people present went silent, none of them knowing what to do next. Sebastian didn’t care. He was so mad he closed his eyes in an attempt to prevent tears. It didn’t work, and once they started every emotion he’d held inside for the past 2 weeks came flooding out.

And then a piano began to play.

I took the supermarket flowers from the windowsill I threw the day old tea from the cup Packed up the photo album Aunt June had made Memories of a life that's been loved

Sebastian’s eyes flew open but they were still so full of tears it was hard to be sure of what he was seeing. There was no video, no choir. Just Blaine and a piano mesmerizing hundreds of people. But of course, it couldn’t be. It was his mind playing tricks on him again.

Took the get well soon cards and stuffed animals Poured the old ginger beer down the sink You always told me, "Don't you cry when you're down" But Nan, there's a tear every time that I blink

Oh I'm in pieces, it's tearing me up, but I know A heart that's broke is a heart that's been loved

This version of Blaine was different from his vision earlier. His hair was still longer than before, but the facial hair was neatly trimmed and he was wearing glasses. To top things off, he was wearing a bow tie with his nicely tailored suit. In other words, this Blaine’s appearance mimicked his own with the exception of their ties. Another reason to disbelieve what was in front of him.

So I'll sing Hallelujah You were an angel in the shape of my Nan When I fell down you'd be there holding me up Spread your wings as you go And when God takes you back I'll say Hallelujah, you're home

Fluffed the pillows, made the beds, stacked the chairs up Folded your nightgowns neatly in a case Steph says he'd drive then put his hand on my cheek And wiped a tear from the side of my face

I hope that I see the world as you did 'cause I know A life with love is a life that's been lived

So I'll sing Hallelujah You were an angel in the shape of my Nan When I fell down you'd be there holding me up Spread your wings as you go And when God takes you back I'll say Hallelujah, you're home

“I knew he would come. Aunt Juli was right. He is your soul mate.”

Sebastian turned to Step, shaking his head. Hell, his whole body was shaking. “You can see him?”

“Yes, Seb. Blaine is here.”

Hallelujah You were an angel in the shape of my Nan You got to see the person I have become Spread your wings and I know That when God took you back he said Hallelujah, you're home

He barely gave Blaine the time to stand up from the piano bench before Sebastian had his face in his hands and was kissing him like his life depended on it.

When he needed air he didn’t let go but put their foreheads together. “You’re here.”

“I’m here.”

“You wrote a song for me.”

“Yes, I have but not this one. Ed Sheeran wrote this song, but I was given permission to change some of the lyrics to honor your Nana. Don’t want any copyright issues if this happened to hit the internet.”

“Oh shit! My speech…”

“If it gets out, I’m sure people will see it the same way I did. You were passionately defending your Nana’s memory. Those people should be embarrassed and held accountable for their actions. Well, I guess you covered that part.”

Sebastian repeated his kiss complete with saying “You’re here.”

“I thought we’d established that.”

“We did but I’ve been seeing you ever since Nana died. You’ve been so real. Who finally got ahold of you?”

“No one. I was in the Alps, recreating the whole Sound of Music experience, and had horrible cell service. A couple of days ago I had an overwhelming feeling something was wrong. When I finally saw all the messages on my phone, for some reason I called Annabelle of all people. She told me what happened with your Nana and what was going on with the music for the video. I told her I knew a song that would work and she took care of getting permission.”

“If that was only a couple of days ago, how did you get here so quickly?”

Blaine smiled and pointed to a waving Annabelle and Santana. “Our Satans got me to a church. Go figure.”

Sebastian kissed him again but this time it was only a peck. “They might have physically brought you here, but this was all my Nana. She insisted we belonged together, that we are soulmates. I told her I didn’t believe in such things, but she had to be right. Why am I not surprised she’s still meddling in my life even though she’s gone?”

While Sebastian and Blaine were getting reacquainted at the front of the cathedral, they failed to notice people leaving. However, there was a small group of people watching what was going on with a great amount of interest.

“Do we know who he is?”

“Who cares? He held the attention of this entire place with just his voice and a piano.”

“But can he act?”

“Sebastian had never acted when we hired him. Think of the publicity we’d get if we cast his actual boyfriend in the movie as his ex-boyfriend.”

“We don't know for sure if they're boyfriends. Sebastian's never mentioned one."

"No matter what, we have to do something. We’ve filmed as much as we can without recasting Taylor. I don’t want to sound crass, but Sebastian needing this break couldn’t have come at a better time.”

“You better not say that in front of him.”

“After that speech our star gave, I doubt anyone will be crossing Sebastian Smythe anytime soon. I’m going to talk to Annabelle. Maybe we can get some information on our mystery man.”

NOTES:

Sorry about the repost. I didn't realize until a couple days later I had posted a draft...oops.

There is one more chapter…the movie. It wasn't going to be a whole chapter which is why this one is shorter than the previous ones. It will post on 10 Days of Seblaine Week 2023 Day 9: Celebrity/Famous.

Did you guess Blaine wasn't there in the beginning? The biggest clue was... Get out of my head Anderson/Never going to happen Smythe.

Supermarket Flowers: Sheeran, Ed; Levin, Benjamin; McDaid, Johnny 2017

[possibility-left]

Good Omens fic recs #28

carol of the bells by drawlight - A/C, 17k words.  In that first holiday season following Armageddon, Aziraphale and Crowley slowly draw closer.  This is a series of lovely vignettes with a happy ending.  Drawlight's prose is as always vivid, colorful, and sharp, but this story is also immensely cozy and warm.

Four Cups of Wine by boreaowl - A/C, 56k words.  This is another lovely Jewish story.  Aziraphale and Crowley get invited to a Passover seder by chance and make friends with the hosting rabbi and her wife (great OCs).  They respectfully experience Jewish life through the year and try to figure out their mental health issues and their own relationship in the wake of Armageddidn't.

The Bentley Takes a Holiday by GiggleSnortBangDead - A/C, 4k words.  A very cute story in which Crowley unfortunately has to ride the bus (from his and Aziraphale's cottage), makes some friends, makes some enemies, but mostly wants to get home to his angel.  Very fluffy and sweet.

This must be the place by Laura Shapiro (laurashapiro) - A/C, 10k words.  After the lockdown phone call, Aziraphale writes a love letter and invites Crowley over, trying to be brave.  This turns into a slow, romantic seduction that I enjoyed very much.

mourning doves by sleepyimpulse - A/C, 22k words.  Sometime after the end of S2, Aziraphale Falls... into Crowley's living room.  They struggle, Crowley's angst I think is especially poignant here, as they try to figure out their friendship/relationship/existence and Aziraphale recovers.  The language in this is gorgeous.

[genuineformality]

Tagged by @carolinawrenn to list 5 things that make me happy.

1) Birds. Seriously, birds are incredible, magical, terrible asshole creatures. I love going places to watch birds, seeing the common birds at my feeder, the crows and pigeons and gulls and starlings just hanging out, doing bird things in the city. Once I started seeing birds, I couldn't stop seeing them and their existence brings me so much joy.

2) Dogs, but especially my dog. They are such wonderful, loving creatures and somehow, we invited them to live with us and they haven't just stayed, but have become integral. No matter how depressed or unhappy I am, being a dog parent also means that I have to get up every single day and make sure he is taken care of, and in that is the seed of action. Also, mine is the sweetest, most loving little dumbass. He is perfection itself.  

3) Coffee. My house calls me the coffee fairy because I wake up before everyone else to walk the dog and make coffee when I get back. I love the way it smells and tastes and the morning ritual of grinding beans and getting my hot oily bean tea in a cup I love feeling in my hands at the end of it is comforting.

4) Fountain pens and good paper. A nice pen that glides over good paper and leaves a trail of ink forming letters and words, and in that forming thoughts that someone else can decipher and interpret? Actual, literal magic. Also, just the visceral sensation of pen across paper is so satisfying.

5)  Embroidery. Like a lot of fabric/fiber/historical costuming nerds, I've picked up a lot of fiber-related handcrafts over the years. And some I've become passable at (lace tatting), some I've promised myself I'll never touch again (knitting), but I've kept coming back to embroidery of various kinds. Over the pandemic lockdowns, I picked up a project that I'd been talking about doing for years and I finally didn't have a reason to not do it. And I realized that I actually really enjoy embroidering and the process of it in a way that I don't enjoy the action of a lot of other fiber crafts. Where other crafts are about having a finished product and I'll suffer through whatever I'm doing in order to get there, embroidery hits me in a very different spot.

Gentlest, lowest pressure tagging @pyrrhlc, @marycontraire, @erdariel, @rorindiel, @feelinglikecleopatra. I very much would like to hear about your small joys. <3