#the weekend retreat

[sandythereadingcafe]

REVIEW

THE WEEKEND RETREAT by Tara Laskowski at The Reading Cafe:

'The Weekend Retreat was a terrific thriller, that kept me glued to my seat, so not to miss anything.'

[thereadingcafe]

[moodboardmix]

Geteway, Borås, Sweden,

Courtesy: Claesson Koivisto Rune

[ficwip]

In a little over a month, we will be hosting our 11th retreat weekend!

✍️ July 19-21

✍️ Hosted on our discord (18+)

✍️ Join when you can, work on what you like!

✍️ Casual check-ins across the weekend

✍️ Digital planner + Friday warm-up prompt + and two (optional!) voice chats

✍️ Free to attend, like all of our events

Learn more about us on our carrd

[museaway]

Absolutely thrilled that my request for a @ficwip community was approved by Tumblr for the beta test!

As soon as I can figure out how to invite people, I'll be putting together a small group to help determine how we can best use this for things like writing prompts going forward.

[keepingitneutral]

Glass House, Uckermark, Germany,

The wooden structure of the roof forms a wind protected space on the first floor. Towards west, the entire roof surface is glass so the view over the green valley and sunset can be experienced from inside.

The eastern slope of the roof is polycarbonate that creates a spectacular play with light, shadow and changing colors as the sun moves over the house. Every day is a new experience.

Sigurd Larsen Architect

[oldfarmhouse]

https://www.myscandinavianhome.com/2024/04/a-swedish-cabin

[youvebeenlivingfictionalnbcyoa]

It'll Be Fun

Notes: This is the first post of the Nathan Bateman Choose Your Own Adventure for the Youvebeenlivingfictional 5k Follower Celebration! Just a heads up about a couple of things:

All CYOA paths are complete. If you hit the gif that says it's the end, it means that it's the end.

There is one (1) spicy chapter within one of the paths. If you cannot see the chapter, you need to update your content settings. Find the instructions to do that here.

This is not beta-read. As always.

The links to other paths are at the bottom of posts

If there are any broken links, please let me know!

Warnings: Cursing; angst; fluff

Summary: You’ve heard stories about how Bateman…Operates. You’ve only met him in person once, shortly after you’d been hired as Chief Knowledge Officer. It had been brief, perfunctory: Hi, how are you, happy to be here, love it, thanks for the money, enjoy your plane and helicopter ride back to your fucking remote, subterranean, in-fucking-sane facility you billionaire hermit whackadoo—

You had an idea of what this would be like, of course, but the reality is…Absolutely insane. You’re tired, you’re sweaty, and you are so, so happy that you fucking packed light. You shift your bag on your shoulder, glancing around. Follow the river. Follow the fucking river? You’re not a goddamn girl scout. You pull in a deep breath, then let out a relieved sigh as you finally spot the house…Up a rather steep incline. Son of a bitch.

You puff out an irritated breath as you bend forward a touch, resting your hands on your knees.

“Ohhhkay. Okay,” You mutter, straightening. Fuck, you hate team building. Hell, you hate it even more when it’s in such limited quantities of people—this way, there's nowhere to hide, you're easily missed. It’s barely half the C-suite: just you, Bateman, the CFO and the CMO.

It’ll be fun.

Bateman had slurred that across the phone on a status nearly two months ago. It’ll be fun.

The CFO and CMO had signed on enthusiastically; you’d been a little more hesitant to speak up, but had reluctantly agreed—and been met by an cheery, Yeaaah! from Bateman. Maybe that should’ve spurred you to be just a touch more excited, but you’ve heard stories about how Bateman…Operates. You’ve only met him in person once, shortly after you’d been hired as Chief Knowledge Officer. It had been brief, perfunctory: Hi, how are you, happy to be here, love it, thanks for the money, enjoy your plane and helicopter ride back to your fucking remote, subterranean, in-fucking-sane facility you billionaire hermit whackadoo—

Beyond that, you’ve hardly interacted with him outside of meetings, briefings, emails, what have you. You do a good job. You get your shit done. He doesn’t call you out because you've never given him a reason to.

You huff softly as you begin a long hike up the fairly steep incline. Alright. Pace yourself. No need to fuck your knees or ankles or anything up right before you meet your boss—

You wince as your foot slips, your knee skimming against a sharp rock. You groan, looking down and eyeing the throbbing spot. It hasn’t torn your leggings, but you’re willing to bet the skin’s a little torn under there. Damnit. You push on, righting your footing. Come on. Arrive in one piece. You don’t want the fricking sun to go down before you get there, and you really don’t want them to have to come looking for you.

(Though if you’re being honest, you’re not sure that Bateman would go out of his way to send out the search party. You can see the article on Wired now—BlueBook Chief Knowledge Officer Gets Eaten By Bear On the Way to Corporate Weekend Retreat. Said Bateman, “She knew she’d have a hike through challenging terrain. She should’ve brought her bear repellent. Frankly, we can’t tolerate that kind of narrow-minded unpreparedness at BlueBook. We’re already looking to hire her replacement. Our front-runner has climbed Everest.”)

You snort to yourself at the thought. You can practically hear Bateman saying it—with that damnable smug curl to his lips; you can see his hand drawing out of his pocket to adjust his glasses; to pass his hand over his closely shaved head, his palm loosing a rasping little shush against his cropped hair; his shoulder shrugging dismissively before he impatiently waves the reporter on to their next question. Oh, yeah, you wouldn’t put it past him. You’re only useful to Nathan as long as you suit his needs. You’re certain that if your visions for the company didn’t align with his, if you didn’t fall in line with what he wants for BlueBook, he’d drop you without a second thought. 

It would only be right, of course. It’s his company, not yours. 

You come to another stop once you reach the top of the hill, bracing your hands on your lower back and giving it a bit of a stretch. Fuck. You need a shower. A long, hot shower. You straighten up, and are set to go full steam ahead to Bateman’s when you hear your name called. You go still, dread trickling into your chest, your eyes squeezing shut. Maybe you can pretend you didn’t hear him? 

But you’re not on some crowded city street, or office hall, and you’ve stilled for too long. You turn, slapping on a smile at the sight of the CFO, William Ellis, at the bottom of the steep hill. You force a smile, raising a hand to wave. You’re fully intent on turning back around and heading toward the house, but he calls out, “Mind giving me a hand with my bags?” 

Yes, you do mind. You’re not a fucking bellhop. You don’t want to help him with his bags—you don’t even want to be here. You want to stomp back to that field and camp out until that helicopter comes back to take you home. 

Instead, you turn around, measuring and bracing your steps as you trudge back down the hill. 

-- 

“Damn good luck running into you.” 

It's the third time he says it, though he’s run out of breath more and more as he did. Ellis is a short, stout Englishman. His typically fair, clear skin is ruddy and red from exertion. It probably doesn’t help that his voice seems to come from his nose, and is pushed out of the narrow purse of his lips with his rarefied Oxbridge snobbishness. “Sure,” Is all you offer now. The first time, you’d said Isn’t it; the second, you’d chuckled lightly, offered, Guess so. Maybe if your responses become monosyllabic, he wouldn’t bother. You shift your bag on your shoulder, moving Ellis’ duffle bag from one hand to the other as you deftly avoided the rock that you’d slipped on before.

“Nice of Bateman to have us along,” He adds. 

“Yep.”  

“Don’t get to see much of the old sport these days.” 

The Old Sport. Christ. This man is one off-white jacket, gin rickey, and Dead Man’s float away from being an F. Scott Fitzgerald character.

“Well, that’ll happen,” Is all you offered in turn. You fight the urge to drop William’s duffel on the doorstep as you approached the house. Instead, you still, watching William approach and draw his phone out to check the instructions. 

“Now let’s see…” He mutters. “The instructions did say that the…Keycard pad was around here…Somewhere…” 

“William Ellis.”

You glance over as a robotic voice draws your attention to a keypad.  It's just another moment before it instructs:

“Please approach the console and face the screen.”

William wanders closer, eyes still set on his phone. You bite your lip, choking down a laugh as a light flashes, taking a picture of the top of William’s head. 

“Take your keycard.” 

You step closer as William took his, and the same robotic voice said your name. You step in front of the camera, forcing your face into a neutral expression. 

“You ought to smile a bit,” William chuckles. You tighten your hands on the straps of his duffel as irritation pulses through you. You have half a mind to drop this duffel bag right on his foot—knowing full well that his work and personal laptops are in here. Instead, you reach out, taking the card from the slot. 

“You may now enter the residence.” 

William doesn’t hold the door open for you. He doesn’t even gesture for you to be the first one in. You’ve already had enough of this man’s shit—and you haven’t even seen Bateman, or the CMO. You don’t want to see them in this state anyway. The CMO, Dan Marshall, is one of your better workplace friends. And Bateman—well. Either way, you’re not sure you’re ready to see him yet, for all of the hell he’s already put you through with this little hike. 

“So? Shall we?” William nods down the hall. 

Shall you? 

Go With William to Find Nathan and Dan

Go Off On Your Own and Find Your Room 

[lovesodeepandwideandwell]

Adventure week cut short because the town where I was going to see a concert is ~*~flooded~*~ but I'm not too too mad about it though

[bao-dur]

Tomorrow's Shiver - The Dark Urge 2/∞

[abodywithorgans]

the usual way of things is that the present passes you. today we have instead arranged for you to pass the present. it shall be left far behind.

[punctuation-completionist]

might not be responding to things as much over the weekend, i'm just saying this now so no one thinks i am sulking about some people are being weirdos. i just am in cram time because i have a lot of writing things i need to do & a lot of books to read. anyways. the queue will still run i'm just saying. if you send an ask i probably won't get to it immediately

[thesaintofnevergettingitright]

Now. I’m not saying that fans of The Amazing Devil tend to be a touch, shall we say, obsessive,  BUT….

If I may direct you to a side-by-side comparison of the Spotify Wrapped data for my siblings vs. me:

Sibling 1 Top Artist

Minutes listened: 2,671

Her Placement: Top 0.5% of Listeners

Total Monthly Listeners: 15 Million

Sibling 2 Top Artist

Minutes listened: 4,635

Their Placement: Top 0.01% of Listeners

Total Monthly Listeners: 10 Million

My Top Artist (The Amazing Devil)

Minutes listened: 14,003

My Placement: Top 0.1% of Listeners

Total Monthly Listeners: 241,710

Y’all…. The math ain’t mathing! I listened to TAD 3X more than Sibling 2 listened to their Top Artist, and that artist has 20X as many monthly listeners. How is their listener ranking higher than mine? By a factor of TEN?

Overall I’m just deeply impressed by the determination, the gumption, the sheer force of will that TAD fans apparently have.

Idk what they put in that music, but I’m reasonably sure it’s changing our collective brain chemistry.

[ficwip]

Our final writing retreat weekend is November 8-10! Join us for a 3-day, self-paced (themed!) retreat with casual check-ins, group sprints, two optional voice chats, and a complimentary PDF planner designed by yours truly

🚆 hosted on discord (18+)

🛤️ ficwip.carrd.co#discord

[museaway]

I'm at @ficwip's Treetop Retreat for the weekend! And while I am not actually at some fabulous treehouse resort, I do have lots of beautiful trees visible through the windows. My laundry room has been transformed into a treehouse cabin for thr afternoon. Working on a fill for Daster Week today, original fiction for the anthology tomorrow, hanahaki on Sunday.

[keepingitneutral]

Casa de Los Arboles Altos, Avandaro, Valle de Bravo, Mexico,

1i Arquitectura