#;;installing... (ic)

[zegalba]

Frank Gehry: Icehenge (2013)

[internationalemeteorologie]

Andy Goldsworthy

Ice and snow sculptures and drawings (series). 1980’s to present

[johnnyshrine]

★ 148 // “Tux Paint”

[inonibird]

Why, I got lost at C̶̥̆ö̵̯́ṅ̸̬v̸̯̌e̴̲͘r̵͙̐g̶̑͜e̵̘͊n̵͐͜c̸̨̀è̶̡ ̷̟͊S̴͎̓t̵͎͂a̴̠͊t̵̟͝i̷͙̐o̴̖̓n̷͕̂, how are you?

[viperwhispered]

Too Little

Part three of Jamil (not) dealing with feels here we go. Jamil x reader, Jamil’s pov Previous parts: part one, part two

This was stupid.

Here he was, rolling around in bed, unable to sleep because thoughts of you filled his mind.

It had been futile of Jamil to think that he could simply brush your presence aside, that he could treat you like just another schoolmate and not let you consume his mind. 

Not when every quiet moment had him reach for his phone in hopes of a new message from you.

Not when you kept on finding new ways to make his heart skip a beat every time he saw you.

Not when he missed you more acutely every time you weren’t there.

So, despite his best efforts, his mind treaded those same paths, time and again, occupied by all the parts of you. Your expressions, your mannerisms, your words, every single detail committed to his memory and played over and over.

He suspected that at this point he’d be able to recreate most of your expressions just from memory. Your voice, too, playing so clearly in his mind.

Not to even mention those oh so tantalizing what ifs, supplying him with even sweeter temptations than the confines of reality and memory could provide.

What it would feel like to touch you, to hold you, to kiss you, to-

No. No no no. He would not go there.

Jamil could feel the heat burning in his cheeks and he rolled over, groaning into his pillow.

This was ridiculous. Absolutely preposterous.

Yet, there was no getting out of it.

He wanted you.

He wanted more of you, so much more than what he had.

Because each taste of you left him craving more, each glimpse made him want to uncover everything there was to you.

Even the parts you might consider ugly, as sappy as that was.

What kind of people did you like, anyway?

Charming? Intelligent? Funny?

Rich and influential? 

Did you even like guys? Or relationships in general?

Just the thought - relationship - made Jamil's cheeks burn even brighter, made his legs twitch under the covers.

Yet, somehow, it did not sound so bad.

To have you.

To be yours.

To know and be known.

He huffed and turned over onto his back.

As if his duties left room for something for himself, left enough of him to share with someone like that.

And would you like what you saw in him, anyway?

Yet, his excuses were beginning to sound more and more hollow.

After all, he was nothing if not resourceful, and so far you’d shown no signs of shying away, even as you dug your way deeper.

Jamil stared at the canopy over his bed with unseeing eyes.

He’d have to do something about this.

Because if he didn’t, he might just lose his mind.

But was the alternative any better? Could he even handle it? The full force of you, if - and it was a big if - you were to accept him.

Even now, when you looked at him in that particular way of yours… He never could hold your eyes for long when that happened. The softness and the warmth he saw were far too overwhelming, always forcing him to turn away lest he made a complete fool of himself.

If he were to have that, with the full force of affection intention behind it… How could he even bear it?

Like the other day… You’d found Jamil in the middle of his chores and dragged him away, his to-do list crumbling when you grabbed his hand and led him outside.

He was all too aware of how his protests had been half-hearted at best. How your sudden appearance, your touch had shut down every sensible part of him, leaving him unpleasantly raw.

And by the time he’d gathered himself, nearly convinced himself he had other things he should be doing instead, you were sharing ice creams outside Sam’s, to celebrate the first warm day of the year.

As if it wasn’t warm in Scarabia year round.

As if he hadn’t been too preoccupied by your happiness and enthusiasm to bring himself to heel.

Sometimes, it was all he could do not to be swept away by you, barely keeping his head above the surface.

So, what choice did he have but to act?

You’d made a home in his heart already, whether he asked for it or not.

All he could do was take control of what he could.

Eta: you can find part 4 here and part 5 / the final part here. Oh dear I'm starting to get tempted to write this from the reader's pov as well. Or maybe I'll just have to ramble about the thought process behind this at some point to get that out of my system. I also considered going to a more horny direction with this but decided to go with this kind of yearning in the end. But, if the horny version is of interest for y'all, maybe I can do that as an alternative / supplementary thing to this series, or some sort of a standalone at some point. Hope y'all enjoyed! One or two more parts are still to come. Tag list: @colliope @crystallizsch @diodellet @jamilsimpno69 @jamilvapologist @mazapanmiau @perilous-pasta @twstgo If you'd like to be tagged for any future works, do let me know! Also feel free to specify if you only want tags for particular kinds of works (like sfw/nsfw for example).

[asexualbookbird]

25 in 2025

Sigh. I've been bullied. I guess. I did a big swing and a miss on last years list, but I have a Plan this time. A Theme. A Goal. This will be mostly comprised of my Illumicrate books so I can decide if it is in fact worth it to keep my subscription going until the Alecto edition gets announced. If I don't actually enjoy the majority of the books in these boxes then what's the point, yknow?

So here's this years color key:

Green - Carry over from last year (not carrying over every missed book, which probably means I should just get rid of them huh)

Purple - Illumicrate books

Blue - I own these in physical form, but they're not from Illumicrate

Labyrinth's Heart by MA Carrick

The Faithless by CL Clark

The Art of Prophecy by Wesley Chu

The Jasmine Throne by Tasha Suri

City of Bones by Martha Wells

Witch King by Martha Wells

After the Forest by Kell Woods

Voyage of the Damned by Frances White

Of Jade and Dragons by Amber Chen

The Phoenix Keeper by SA Maclean

A Dark and Drowning Tide by Allison Saft

Until We Shatter by Kate Dylan

Mistress of Lies by KM Enright

Hammajang Luck by Makana Yamamoto

A Sorceress Comes to Call by T Kingfisher

The Bone Shard War by Andrea Stewart

The Last Hour Between Worlds by Melissa Caruso

The Spare Man by Mary Robinette Kowal

He Who Drowned the World by Shelley Parker Chan

All Those Explosions Were Someone Else's Fault by James Alan Gardner

The Tainted Cup by Robert Jackson Bennett

The Spellshop by Sarah Beth Durst

Can't Spell Treason Without Tea by Rebecca Thorne

In the Ravenous Dark by AM Strickland

A Conjuring of Light by VE Schwab

PHEW. Okay. A fw things to note. A Dark and Drowning Tide is an Illumicrate book, but I didn't pay for it. A friend gave it to me after I skipped that month because she wasn't interested. I always look up book spoilers and skip if I'm not interested and if I'm uninterested in any of the stuff I'll skip even if the book seems neat. That month the box was full of fandoms I didn't care about, so my friends said "here, take my copy" and I said "yay! Free book!"

Cutting in during the month of April to say Until We Shatter was also probably given to me by a friend because it's NOT in my order history and I don't have the stuff in that box but it IS on my shelf?? Wild. Where'd it come from.

The Last Hour Between Worlds I think was also an Illumicrate book? They do fanart for it so I assume it was at some point. I did not get it. This is not the IC edition. I was not thrilled about The Tethered Mage so I was going to get this out of the library. Then my mom bought it for me for the holidays. So yay! Free book!

I think I would also like to keep track of books I purchase this year. I'd like to cut down on buying books that I won't love. So I'd like to utilise my library more. Win win, I think! And that seems easier than a full out ban since yeah sometimes I do enjoy little treats! Books purchased for other people do not count, obviously.

There are also some books I'd like to reread this year, mainly The Bone Maker because I've been saying that since I read it the first time. And honestly, I've been chasing the same vibes and haven't been able to match it (Godkiller got close!).

As usual, I reserve the right to pretend this post doesn't exist, but I think I've set myself up for success here :)

I don't know who hasn't done this by now @logarithmicpanda ? Have you?? Consider yourself tagged >:3c

oh right I was bullied tagged by @bigcats-birds-and-books

[miamaimania]

Transient Tranquility: Andy Goldsworthy's Meditative Ice Sculptures

[deafeninggardenerpanda]

a variety of mage sisters related doodles. i was going to post these when they were Finished but i changed laptops sometime ago and have been unable to find the files (they're definitely there Somewhere on my computer. Somewhere)

the houses were intended to be for a comic, which i might still do but why not post them anyways. if anyone can competently read my handwriting you get to enjoy the details of each of their houses

usually with mage sisters gijinkas i've found people clothe them as if their element is the climate they live in (francisca dresses like someone who would live somewhere cold, with furs and layers, and flamberge dresses like someone who would live somewhere hot, with more airy/breathable clothing). i wanted to go the opposite direction, with the mages embracing being their element. i thought flam would love to feel like a furnace at all times, while fran would be the one with more airy elements. zan isn't here, but she has some armor and large metal jewelry in order to conduct her electricity through her. i used the same thought process when designing their houses (flam lives in a big oven, fran lives in a big freezer, zan always has an electric flow running through her metal floorboards)

[quantumlogician]

" I am, for lack of appropriate wording, joyed when there is a fondness gained for my creations, however it is getting ridiculous they are continuously swiped from me. "

[strangled-mangoes]

Tell me your Opinions on Mumbo Jumbo from Teen Titans (2003), OP.

i love the crazy old blue guy with white hair who gets his powers from a magical object and is voiced by tom kenny

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

Let's Beat the Heat; Deuce Spade

Content; Fluff, gender-neutral reader, romance

Word Count; 650+

AN; This is for the lovely @ithseem! Thanks for the request, and I hope you enjoy this Deuce drabble! As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

You were still stuck in Twisted Wonderland, and spending your summer in Ramshackle. It wouldn’t have been horrible; your friends came and visited, brought you out on little day trips, heck, even Crowley was leaving you alone for once. But there was one itty-bitty thing which made it unbearable. There. Was. No. Air. Conditioning. And today was the grossest, most humid, most insufferably hot day of the year. Apparently it hasn’t been this bad in over a decade. So, you were sprawled out on the hardwood floors in a feable attempt to cool down, but you were just sticky and laying on the floor. Absolutely miserable.

There was knocking at the front door. Did I invite anyone over? Ughhhhh it’s too hot for thinking! “Come in,” you groaned, turning your head over to see who decided to come over.

“Hi, love,” Deuce greeted before stopping upon seeing you trying to meld yourself to the floor. He furrowed his brow and then his eyes widened, having come up with a plan. He placed a kiss to your forehead, “I’ll be right back, okay?” And off he went, putting his plan into action.

“Hi, love, bye love,” you sighed. And you just layed on the floor, staring up to the ceiling. Note to self; wring Crowley’s neck the next time I see him for making me stay in this damn place. INSTALL AN AIR CONDITIONER FOR THE LOVE OF SEVEN! 

Were you staring at the ceiling for a minute? An hour? You had no clue, but you heard the front door open and shut. Deuce was back, and he was carrying a box of ice pops. “So, it isn’t much, but it should help a bit. But it’s outside.” He reached out his hand, helping you get up. “Up we get… now, close your eyes.”

You gave him a tired look, but followed your boyfriend’s request and closed your eyes. It was too hot to really question what he was up to. At least with Deuce, you knew it would be something sweet, a bit awkward but very endearing. Very slowly, since Deuce was going at a snail’s pace, the both of you got outside. “Can I open them now?” You asked, waiting for the go ahead.

“Yes,” he chuckled nervously, waiting to see your reaction.

And upon opening your eyes you saw a kiddy pool, no deeper than mid calf, filled with water and ice. A smile broke on to your face seeing the bright blue plastic covered in cartoon sea creatures and mermaids. “This was your idea, sweetie?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, “It isn’t much, but I thought it could help. Do… do you like it?”

“Of course I like it,” you laugh, cautiously testing the water with a finger. It was bitterly cold. “It’s perfect! Thanks, love!”

Deuce smiled upon seeing your cheery face and happy laughter, happy to see that your energy was back. “Not as perfect as you.”

Taking an ice pop, you booped him on the nose with it. “You’re also perfect, you know,” you hum.

His cheeks flushed pink at the realization that he said that outloud. Yes, the two of you have been dating for a few months now, but he still found himself blushing. He brought out an ice pop and booped you back on the nose, a soft look in his eyes. “I love you.”

Today might have started off as the hottest day in recent Twisted Wonderland history, but thanks to Deuce, the day had shifted. Yes, it was still hot as Sevens, but due to the sweet actions of your sweet boyfriend, it wasn’t so bad. Maybe getting stuck here wasn’t all that bad. You had the right people… you had your person. And that was enough.

All you needed was Deuce… and some ice pops, and a kiddy pool filled with ice water so you didn’t get heat stroke. But telling Crowley off could wait for another day, for now, beating the heat with your person was far more enjoyable and important.

[watcheraurora]

Fun fact: I had Ice Walls Part 3 (title pending) vaguely-but-mostly plotted out before I was even done with Strong Walls. I knew how it would end before I knew how to start it. And all my "hmm, that idea might be interesting to use" thoughts all ended up weaving themselves together into a nice little cohesive narrative that ended up working really nicely all together. So hopefully this is going to be good!

[sallytwo]

in 2025 let’s start talking about what brand of cigarette different characters would smoke

[snixx]

i want to get into a nice long book series with a significant fandom...is the hollow star saga any good lol

[ohulancutash]

Water keeps freezing into ice discs in a bowl in the garden and I keep balancing them on the edge of the woods to take photos of.

...I like the top one. I was looking into the sunset as I took it and didn't realise the exposure on my phone camera had set itself so low. I think it looks like the moon has fallen down into the forest.

[writereleaserepeat]

This last month I've been enamored by @sowhumpshaped's interactive whump story, "Stray." It came to a beautiful end just a few days ago, and I was inspired to come out of the woodwork long enough to write a little fanfic. Make sure to go read their story before continuing here! It's a lovely work of art and I had so much fun seeing where it went. I miss the daily updates already!

This story is set twenty years after the main storyline of "Stray," and ten years after total pet liberation. It takes place in I-Can't-Believe-It's-Not-Disneyworld, and it features our MC (you!) meeting a ghost from their past.

CW: mentions of pet whump, second person POV, swearing

WC: ~2250

You run your tongue along the mountain of sweet vanilla cream, savoring its delicate flavor as it slowly melts in your mouth. With how much this ice cream cost, you were determined to enjoy every moment of its blissful respite from the summer heat. The mouse might know how to mark up its sweets, but it wouldn't steal away your enjoyment of this day, not even with an ice cream cone that cost an arm and a leg.

You're pulled from your thoughts by the sight of the ride coming to a halt beyond the fence. The harnesses begin to release and the children start pouring towards the exit, all smiles and laughters as they rush to find their parents on the other side. Your daughter is easy to spot, a tall girl - god, when did she get so tall? - with a glowing, gap-toothed smile.

Much to your surprise, she comes to greet you with another girl in tow, a child whose face reminds you of someone you can't place, their eyes sparkling with a hint of familiarity. A celebrity, maybe?

You don't have any more time to ponder before your daughter begins talking. She holds the other girl’s hand, a child who couldn’t have been a year older than her, and all but pulls her up to greet you.

"This is Delaney, we were on the ride together! She's so nice," Libby speaks in that same pleading tone you're never able to resist. "Please, please, please can we go to the next ride together?"

“I don’t know, sweetheart,” you say as sympathetically as you can, putting a palm on Libby's head. “We need to ask Delaney’s grown-up first.”

“My dad will say it’s okay,” Delaney says with a vigorous nod, “he’s right over there!”

She points towards a man striding in your direction, his hair long, but his gait familiar. As he brushes the hair from in front of his eyes, you freeze. You know those eyes. You’ll never forget those eyes, even if they’re set deeper in wrinkles now.

The world stops. For one painful moment, you don’t even feel your heart beat. It’s like all the air has been sucked out of your lungs.

But it wasn’t. You draw a breath, a deep breath that pushes hard against your ribs. You’re free. All the pets are free now, and they have been free for ten years. It had been another ten years before that since you’d last seen Rayan.

He recognizes you too, you can tell in the way his jaw slackens, dumbfounded. That glitter of recognition continues as he finally stumbles into earshot and his tongue begins to work.

“Thirt-"

“Not in front of my daughter,” you hiss, leaning in towards his ear as you do so. “Not in front of my fucking daughter.” You keep a smile on your face, only just, so your child doesn’t have to see you fall apart before her eyes.

He seems startled, startled enough to shut up for one moment. But silence had never been his strong suit, you could remember that much, the way he'd ramble on and on after his volunteer shifts. You'd always let him talk - not today. The dynamic had shifted. Today, you look him in the eyes as an equal.

“I’m sorry, I-“

“Papa!” Delaney interjects, cutting Rayan off a second time. “I met this girl on the ride, her name’s Libby, she’s super fun, and super nice, and we want to go on another ride together.” She tugs on Rayan’s arm, but he doesn’t look down.

“Actually,” you say, pulling your daughter close to you, “I think we need to go catch up with Libby’s little brother and my partner.”

“Please?” Libby pleads again, staring at you with those doe eyes that always melt your heart. “Just one ride. It can be this one, we can do it again, we don’t even have to walk anywhere.”

Fuck.

What was almost twenty years of therapy worth if you couldn’t stand next to Rayan for another five minutes? You’d imagined talking to him a thousand times over, you’d thought painstakingly about what you’d say to him if you ever could, you'd prayed to his memory as much as you'd cursed it. But now, all you want is to walk away and never look at him again.

No more running. You'd promised yourself that almost two decades ago, and hell if you couldn't carry through with that promise today, especially with a family that needed you.

“Okay,” you concede, forcing a smile at Libby. She would never see you falter, not now, not ever. “You can ride this same ride one more time, just once, and only if you use your QuickCard to skip the line. We don’t want to get too far behind the rest of the family.”

“Sure,” Rayan says, voice measured. He smiles down at Delaney as well, but you can tell it's forced. “You can go too. Don’t forget, you only have three more taps on your QuickCard.”

“That’s okay!” Delaney chirps, already pulling Libby towards the line. “We’re going to have so much fun!”

And as the girls run in a tangle of limbs and laughter back into the ride's entrance, you’re left alone next to Rayan. The silence weighs heavily on your shoulders, and you feel the ice cream beginning to melt between your fingers. Then it's just you and Rayan, alone.

Not literally alone. You two are the furthest from alone you ever could be, stood next to a swinging steel pirate ship, amidst a park milling with tens of thousands of other people. But you can hardly hear the screams, the voices, the mechanical groans of the rides. Rayan’s presence next to you is suffocating.

You say nothing yet. What is there to say? You’ve said it all a million times before. To the shower walls, to your therapist, to the darkened skies in the early dawn. But none of it had ever compared to what you feel right now.

Something like hope begins to itch in your chest. Maybe this would give you closure, real closure, not the metaphorical closing of a book at the end of a therapy session. You've craved closure for so long. Could Rayan finally be this holy grail?

“I’m sorry,” Rayan says. If you didn’t know better, his voice sounded on the verge of breaking. “I’m sorry for everything.”

His swallow is louder than even the most cacophonous thunderstorm. He continues, tripping over his words, falling over himself with every syllable.

“Look, I was just doing my best. I mean, you were a kid, and I was basically still a kid too, and I was doing what I thought was best, just trying to help, you know? It’s been twenty years and I’ve never forgotten your face. And I mean, look at you now, here with your kids, this is what all the freed pets wanted, isn’t it? The chance to live like this?”

In that moment you know what you need from Rayan. It's what you've needed from him all along, even if you couldn't name it before now.

“Say it,” you mumble, struggling to find your voice. That hope for closure, god, you can feel it, you need it, and-

“What?”

“Say it,” you growl, more firmly this time. “You know what I need you to say.”

“Look, thir- whatever name you chose, I don’t know what you want from me.”

You finally look him in the eyes again.

“Say that I’m a person. Tell me that I’m a person.”

“Of course you are,” Rayan begins, and you watch him hold up his hands as he fights against his tongue's knots. “That’s what the Decree says. All pets had their legal status changed to reflect their unequivocal personhood.”

“That’s not what I asked. I know my pet lib history - likely better than you do. I want you to tell me that I, me, the living being standing in front of you, is a person.”

That nervous look in Rayan’s eyes tells you everything you need to know. The pregnant pause that follows is just painful confirmation. There would be no closure here for you today.

“Pathetic.” It takes all of your strength not to slap him in the face. “Twenty years and you haven’t learned a damn thing. The rest of the world has moved on from that nonsense and you can’t take five seconds to pull your head out of your ass.”

“Look," another swallow as Rayan wrings his hands. “Yeah, it’s been ten years, and still, there’s these studies, right? I'm sure they taught you to read in the, uh, the rehabilitation classes. There's studies that shows the pets that were liberated, they just aren't adapting to society as people do, you know? They don't excel at their jobs, they don't succeed in forming traditional family units, they engage in crime and anti-social behavior at much higher rates..."

You scoff and roll your eyes. All you can feel is the bile thick in your throat. Those studies, those lies, that propaganda, it would never stop. And people like Rayan would never stop feeding on it. You knew this, hell, you taught about it, at your community college's pet lib program. There would always be someone with an interest in the tyranny over 'pets,' be it emotional or financial, and it would succeed as long as people like Rayan were stupid enough to buy it.

"Look," Rayan says, putting his hands on the nearby railing as he looks away from you, "all I'm saying is, if you're a good- as good a soul as I think you are, you'd want what's best for your daughter, right? And, and maybe, well, maybe what's best for your family is how things used to be. You don't know for sure that things are better now. What if you're denying your family the chance to be taken care of, to truly thrive? What if they're not meant to be taken care of by, ah, by something like you?"

For a moment you think about striking him. You think about taking him to the ground, right there in the middle of the theme park, and pummeling him senseless. You want to beat that nonsense right out of his skull.

But that would prove his point, wouldn't it?

No. You know you can't do that. You can't wait for your daughter to come back and see your knuckles bloodied, this stranger choking on his own teeeth, your face contorted into an unfamiliar visage of rage. You weren't going to be a monster.

"You disgust me." The words are stickier than honey on your tongue. "Your vapid platitudes mean nothing. Your saviour complex has kept you stuck in the past while the rest of society is growing and learning from our sins. I'll always be grateful that you dragged me out of the trash that one day, and I'll always be grateful that you kept a roof over my head long enough for me to find my liberation. But I owe you nothing, not now, not ever again. I have my personhood - I always have. It's a shame you aren't using yours for something more meaningful."

You see a flash of pink out of the corner of your eye. Libby was coming back, running hand-in-hand with Delaney, that same joyful smile on her face. The smile of a child who had never seen the tyranny of the system you'd oncee been subdued by. The smile of a child who would learn just how important their personhood was, and always would be.

"Libby, darling, we need to go," you say as she comes within earshot. Your tongue is dry and sticky in your throat, and you need a drink of water. Your partner has water, wherever they are in the park now. You want to go to them now, seek the affirmation of everything you'd built in the time since you'd left Rayan behind all those years ago. You want to feel their comforting touch, something to ground you, to remind you of who you are. Who you've always been.

A good person.

Libby seems to wilt a bit, dejectedly dropping Delaney's hand from her own.

"Aw, but-"

"No buts. It's time to see what your brother is up to, and we have a lot of rides to catch before the day is over."

She pauses for a moment, and you can see her thinking it over. After another second she nods, seemingly convinced.

"Okay, as long as you promise to come on the next roller coaster with me."

"I promise," you say, reaching out a pinkie towards her. She hooks her pinkie in yours, and you take the opportunity to pull her close to you, away from Rayan, and away from the child he will undoubtedly raise to think just like him.

"Bye, Delaney! We're friends forever, okay?" Libby shouts over her shoulder as you begin to walk away.

"Bye Libby! Forever!" Delaney replies, giggling as she waves.

Your eyes meet Rayan's one last time. They're clouded with emotion, his lips pressed in a thin line. In spite of yourself, you smile at him once, and turn away.

"Alright, sweetheart," you speak to your daughter as the door to your past slams shut behind you. "Let's go have some more fun. We've got the whole day ahead of us."