#exploring essex

[anti-con-tent]

This village.

[sutherlandspiritofficial]

Mersea Island.

[vintagecamping]

Four gents resting at the summit of Mount Marcy in Keene, Essex County in the Adirondack Mountains.

New York

1930

[nerdyydragon]

Favourite way to consume religion is through gothic literature

[life-spire]

@jackcoble

See more like this.

[superhaught]

I Mean It Different Than You Do

Pairing: Leighton x Reader

Warnings: surgery recovery, pure fluff

Word Count: 2500

Anonymous Asked: Hi! Could i please request a Leighton x fem reader that’s kind of based on the episode of slocg where Kimberly has her surgery and the Kansas guy takes care of her and she thinks hey only thinks of her like tiny Tim lol but instead it’s with Leighton x reader and leighton takes care of a sick reader and finds out that they have feelings for each other and it’s full of fluff! Sorry if this is confusing lol

Took inspiration from Reneé's song "I Do" as well.

Leighton and reader are best friends. Leighton helps reader through their wisdom tooth surgery.

You had found a friend in a very unlikely person. 

The first time you noticed her, she was trying to get drunk off of tiny disposable cups of wine while volunteering at the Women’s Center open mic night. 

The second time you noticed her, she was sitting down in the seat in front of you in your spring semester astronomy class. 

After working on a class project together, you discovered that she was actually a very sweet person underneath her designer clothes, perfectly straightened blonde hair, and chilly attitude. You became fast friends over that second semester at Essex and ended up spending a lot of time together outside of class. 

You watched as Leighton Murray grew more and more comfortable with her sexuality over time. As her friend, you supported her exploration of being out and were there for her throughout the ups and downs of her relationships with Alicia and Tatum. 

You invited her over to your off-campus apartment when she needed some time to decompress from Essex life. You watched movies together almost every weekend. You forced her to experience some natural New England beauty with brief hiking trips and lake days. 

She brought you to parties, took you along shopping and out for lunch and dinner, and earnestly tried to get you more involved in the dating scene. Leighton even set up a dating app profile for you once and you just giggled and said, “I don’t want to meet someone through an app!” 

She rolled her eyes at you, “I give up! Don’t you want to start seeing people?”

“I dunno,” you shrugged, “I feel like I have everything I want right now.”

“How are we so different?” the blonde mused, turning her attention to her own phone, which was constantly blowing up with messages. “Well, whatever. I’m not going to force you to date just for the sake of it, but I feel like you’re missing out.”

You didn’t say anything in response. You were reading in your bed and Leighton was laying next to you comfortably. You were holding a highlighter in between your teeth and occasionally shifting so that you could annotate in your book. You had noticed that Leighton had been glancing over at you a few times but you didn’t say anything about it. 

She flipped her phone to face you at some point, showing you an instagram post announcing an upcoming Theta party, “wanna go?”

You looked at the date of the party and frowned, shaking your head, “can’t. I’m sorry, Leight. I’m getting my wisdom teeth out that day.”

“Aw shit, really? That sucks…”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I’m going to need the weekend to recover. Actually, I was going to ask you if I could get your help with a ride to and from the dentist but you should go to the party so don’t worry about it.”

“No, I'd love to help! You think I’d rather be hanging out in the rancid Theta house than eating popsicles and binging Housewives with my best friend?”

You laughed, “Well I don’t know, would you rather hang out with me after getting wisdom tooth surgery than go to a party and potentially meet a hottie to spend the night with?”

Leighton smirked at you and shifted a little bit closer to you in the bed, leaning her head on your shoulder, “nah… lately, you’re the only hottie I’ve been wanting to spend my time with.”

“Yeah, right,” you snorted. 

“I’m being serious, dumbass.”

You both looked at each other for a moment. You were thrown off by her words, surely she didn’t mean…

“What are you reading, anyway?” Leighton asked, quickly changing the subject.

“Oh, nothing too exciting…” you go on to tell her about the assigned reading you were doing for your poetry class and she listened to you, letting the awkwardness of the earlier conversation fade away. 

Leighton hung out at your apartment, enjoying the ability to do her homework in the easy quiet with you rather than amidst all the chaos of the dorms and her suite. You ordered take out and watched a show on your laptop and then she reluctantly got ready to leave to go home for the night. She was packing up her tote bag and then you just blurted it out, “stay.”

She looked up at you, “huh?”

“You could just stay. You don’t have to go back to campus, if you don’t want to, I mean. Like, I’m not kicking you out.”

“Are you saying that I don’t have to go, or are you asking me to stay?”

“Are those two different things?”

She nodded, “yes.”

You took a deep breath, “then… I’m asking you to stay, I guess. I don’t want you to go. Sleep over.”

Leighton smiled and let go of her bag before joining you on the bed again, “okay, let’s watch another episode then.”

You ended up watching another two episodes of tv, eating microwave popcorn in bed and laughing over stupid things. 

Life was easier with Leighton. 

Your neck was hurting you. You blinked a few times then realized that you and Leighton had fallen asleep cuddled up with each other and left the laptop playing the show. You were now staring at the screen that read “Are you still watching?”

You shifted your body slightly, trying not to wake Leighton up. She moved and you thought you had woken her but she just sniffled slightly and hugged you a little tighter. You carefully got rid of your laptop and adjusted yourself in the bed so that you could lie down fully and Leighton came with you, sleeping on her side with her head tucked into the crook of your neck. 

You smiled and pulled the blankets over you both, then turned off your bedside lamp and fell back to sleep with Leighton in your arms. 

Leighton had woken up that following morning with a cute smile and said, “that was the best sleep.” The blonde pressed a quick peck of a kiss to your cheek before she got out of the bed and went to the bathroom. She didn’t bother closing the bathroom door all the way. You glanced over at her while she looked in the mirror and fixed her hair. 

You didn’t talk about any of it and you didn’t know what to think. Leighton was your best friend. She didn’t have feelings for you. She would’ve said something by now. This was just what it was like to have a close friend, you assumed. 

The rest of your week was fairly standard. Classes and homework sucked up your time, but you and Leighton had developed a routine that you always stuck to. You met at Sips for coffee on Monday afternoons. You ate dining hall lunch together on Tuesdays and Fridays. You walked to astro and sat together every Wednesday, and hung out at your apartment Wednesday nights before going to the observatory for your nighttime astronomy assignments. 

And in all that time, you never once discussed the cuddling, or the little kiss, so you convinced yourself that you were overthinking it and tried to let it go. 

When Friday came around, Leighton had shown up outside of your apartment building that morning with one of the fancier Ubers generously paid for by her father ready to take you to and from your surgery. 

You came outside wearing comfy clothes and she smiled and opened the car door for you.

She then got into the car on the other side and sat next to you, “I already went shopping and got everything I thought you might need this weekend to recover and I have a ton of low-energy-investment plans to make sure you don’t get bored. I’m going to stay with you for as long as you want me to, unless I drive you crazy, of course, but-”

“Leight, you didn’t have to do all of that…”

“It’s nothing! I want to take care of you.”

“You do? Why?”

She shrugged her shoulders, “cause I want to, why else?”

“I… I don’t deserve you, Leighton.”

“Oh, shut up. That’s not true,” she paused for a moment then said, “you’re my best friend and I love you.”

“I love you too…”

Leighton waited with you until you were taken back to be prepped and put to sleep for your wisdom teeth extraction. The last thing she said to you was, “I’ll have my camera ready for when you come out of the anesthesia!”

You stuck your tongue out at her angrily as you were whisked away and went unconscious while imagining seeing her face when you woke up again. 

You woke up in a different room, lying down flat on a recovery bed. You felt weird but not particularly bad.

Your vision came into focus slowly and the blonde was sitting in a chair beside the bed scrolling through her phone. You made a noise and she turned and looked at you, “hey there,” she said softly, sliding herself and the chair a little closer to you, “how are you feeling?”

Your mouth was all swollen and your head was all wrapped up with ice packs on either cheek. You mumbled, “fine.”

She smiled, “the dentist said everything went well so you should expect a pretty easy recovery.”

You nodded slowly then looked at her quizzically and mumbled, “do I look pretty?”

Leighton laughed, “do you look pretty? Well, I’ll admit that you’ve had better days but you’re still your gorgeous self, why?”

“I dunno… I thought maybe I wouldn’t be pretty anymore… all swollen…”

“You have nothing to worry about, trust me.”

“You’re so nice, Leighton… some people think you’re mean but you’re not mean you’re so nice… and you’re gay and I love that about you…” 

Leighton shook her head and laughed and just held your hand gently while you rested and came back to your senses over the next half hour or so. 

Leighton helped you to the car and let you lean against her on the drive back, then she helped you get comfy in your bed and made a little station nearby with drinks and foods that were safe for you to have, and pain meds if you needed them. 

She got into bed next to you and fired up Netflix before saying, “you can cuddle against me, whatever is comfy for you.” 

You nodded and said, “thank you, baby…” 

She raised an eyebrow at your word choice but didn’t say anything. You watched Netflix for a little while but you eventually dozed off against Leighton’s shoulder. You vaguely felt her playing with your hair and scratching your scalp lightly while you rested. You let out a pleased hum and cuddled against her even more closely. 

She gently woke you up later and quietly said, “I can hear your stomach growling, wanna eat something?” 

You took a second to process what she was saying but then you nodded and she grabbed a cup of applesauce for you. 

You took it happily and started to eat carefully, wincing slightly at the experience but feeling happy to have some food.

“You’re the best friend ever,” you began, “taking care of me like this… seeing me in such a pathetic state.” 

“I wouldn’t call you pathetic, not at all. You’re cute.” 

You groaned slightly.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurting?” 

You shook your head, “no, no… it’s nothing, nevermind.” 

She lightly poked you in the side and made you giggle, “come on, now. You can tell me anything. Is something wrong?” 

You were quiet for a minute, thinking. Overthinking. Playing your entire friendship with Leighton back in your head.

“I see those gears turning, what are you thinking about?” 

“I shouldn’t have asked you to take care of me,” you finally stated. 

Leighton looked concerned, “What? Why not? Am I bugging you?” 

“No!” You exclaimed, “no… you’re perfect… that’s the problem.” 

“I don’t understand…” 

“You’re so perfect. So perfect. And incredible. And beautiful. And I think I’m an idiot.” 

“An idiot? You’re not an idiot… I’m lost, babe, what is this about?” 

“I’m so stupid,” you sighed, “you’re never not going to see me as more than a friend are you?”

Leighton stared at you. 

“I don’t want to be cute,” you tried to explain, “I don’t want to be just cute to you… I want more… but I’ve gone and fucked it up…” 

Leighton started to understand and nodded slowly, “okay, first of all, I just want to state for the record that you have some pretty serious painkillers in your system right now, but with that being said, you haven’t fucked anything up… why would you think that?” 

You started to tear up, you couldn’t help it, “you’re never going to like me now… not after seeing me like this. I took too long trying to figure out my feelings…”

Leighton’s brows furrowed, “I like you plenty, this doesn’t change that… wait, what feelings?” 

“My feelings… for you… you’re my best friend, Leight… and I thought that was just how it was always going to be… but I think it’s more than that for me and I just didn’t realize and it’s too late…” 

Leighton took a deep breath in through her nose and spoke softly, “it’s not too late…” 

You looked up at her face and saw tears welling up in her eyes.

“It’s not too late,” she repeated, “not for you and me… I’ll wait for you forever. I’ve been waiting for you to be ready…” 

“Leighton… what?” 

“I love you, you incredible, oblivious sweetheart.” 

You were genuinely shocked, and your reaction was only amplified by how loopy you were feeling, “what?! You love me?! Like, love, love me?” 

Leighton laughed, “yes. I thought I was being obvious!” 

“You love me?!” You exclaimed again. 

Leighton wrapped her arms around you in a hug, “I love you. Are you trying to say that you have feelings for me, too?” 

“Yes! That’s what I’m trying to say… I love you, too, Leighton. I really love you. More than a friend. I want to kiss you and I want to be your girlfriend. I don’t want you to go on dates with anyone else. I want to cuddle with you every night. I want you.” 

Leighton’s smile was the biggest you’d ever seen it, “that’s what I want, too.”

You looked at her and then your face fell into a frown.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t kiss you!”

Leighton laughed lightly, “that’s okay. We’ll kiss when you’re all better, but for now…” she leaned in and gave you a kiss on your forehead, “there.”

You smiled and nuzzled against her, cuddling closely once again, and whispered, “I love you, Leighton.”

“I love you, too.”

[reaper2187]

Leighton murray x reader

In the hallowed halls of Essex College, a tale unfolds between two vibrant souls: Leighton Murray, the enigmatic and alluring senior, and you, the newly arrived freshman with a heart brimming with both trepidation and anticipation.

As you the campus, your senses are assailed by the vibrant tapestry of college life. Laughter echoes through the dormitories, mingling with the faint scent of coffee and the hum of laptops. It is amidst this vibrant atmosphere that you first encounter Leighton.

Tall and striking, with blonde hair that cascades over her shoulders, Leighton exudes an air of mystery. Her captivating blue eyes hold a tantalizing promise, a hint of untold experiences that pique your curiosity. An older student, she moves with an assured confidence that you find both intoxicating and intimidating.

As fate would have it, your paths cross again and again. In the crowded hallways of the library, you steal furtive glances at her as she pores over textbooks, her lips parted slightly in concentration. At a raucous party, you find yourself drawn to her laughter, a melody that cuts through the din like a silver bell.

One evening, as you sit alone in the common room, lost in a book, Leighton approaches you. With a warm smile, she breaks the ice and introduces herself. As you talk, you discover that beneath her enigmatic exterior lies a complex and intelligent woman. You are captivated by her insights, her quick wit, and the way her eyes seem to sparkle with a mischievous glint.

As the hours turn into a languid summer night, you find yourself drawn to Leighton's alluring charm. Your fingers brush against hers as you reach for a shared book, and electricity courses through your body. In that moment, you know that something profound has sparked between you.

In the weeks that follow, you and Leighton spend countless hours together. You explore the hidden nooks of the campus, from the  library to the  gardens. The bond between you grows stronger with each passing day, as you learn the intricacies of each other's desires and secrets.

Leighton's embrace is warm and inviting, her touch like a feather on your skin. Her kisses ignite a fire within you that consumes all inhibition. As you lie entangled in her arms, you feel a sense of liberation and fulfillment like never before.

However, the world outside of your private paradise threatens to tear you apart. Society's judgment looms over you like a dark cloud, whispering that your love is forbidden. But you refuse to be silenced.

Together, you navigate the choppy waters of college life, facing both adversity and triumphs with unwavering determination. You become each other's strength, a beacon of hope in a world that often tries to extinguish your flames.

In the tapestry of your life, Leighton Murray becomes more than just a lover. She is your confidant, your ally, and the catalyst for a profound transformation within yourself. As you graduate from Essex College, you carry with you the memories of your passionate love, a testament to the enduring power of human connection.

And so, as the pages of your life turn and you venture into the wider world, a piece of Leighton will always linger in your heart, a bittersweet reminder of a love that burned bright against the backdrop of youth and collegiate freedom.

[geometrymatters]

Sir Roger Penrose

To me, the world of perfect forms is primary (as was Plato’s own belief) — its existence being almost a logical necessity — and both the other two worlds are its shadows.

Sir Roger Penrose, born on August 8, 1931, in Colchester, Essex, England, is a luminary in the realm of mathematical physics. His journey began with a Ph.D. in algebraic geometry from the University of Cambridge in 1957, and his career has spanned numerous prestigious posts at universities in both England and the United States. His work in the 1960s on the fundamental features of black holes, celestial bodies of such immense gravity that nothing, not even light, can escape, earned him the 2020 Nobel Prize for Physics.

Penrose’s work on black holes, in collaboration with Stephen Hawking, led to the ground-breaking discovery that all matter within a black hole collapses to a singularity, a point in space where mass is compressed to infinite density and zero volume. This revelation illuminated our understanding of these enigmatic cosmic entities.

His work did not stop at the theoretical; he also developed a method of mapping the regions of space-time surrounding a black hole, known as a Penrose diagram. This tool allows us to visualize the effects of gravitation upon an entity approaching a black hole, providing a window into the heart of these celestial mysteries.

Within Penrose’s chapter, “The Godelian Case” (from “The Road to Reality”) the profound implications of Kurt Gödel’s incompleteness theorems are examined in relation to the connection between mathematics and geometry. Specifically, Penrose’s attention centers on the model depicted in Figure 2.1, which portrays a cubic array of spheres. Through this visual representation, Penrose explores the intricate relationship between geometry and mathematical understanding.

By introducing the model of a cubic array of spheres, Penrose highlights the fundamental role of spatial arrangements in mathematical cognition. This geometrical structure serves as a metaphorical embodiment of mathematical concepts, illustrating how spatial configurations can stimulate cognitive processes and facilitate intuitive comprehension of mathematical truths. The intricate interplay between the arrangement of spheres within the model and the underlying principles of mathematics encourages contemplation on the deep-rooted connections between geometry, spatial reasoning, and abstract mathematical thought.

Penrose’s utilization of the cubic array of spheres underscores his broader philosophical framework, which challenges reductionist accounts of human cognition that rely solely on formal systems or computational models. Through this geometrical representation, he advocates for a more holistic understanding of mathematical insight, one that recognizes the essential role of geometric intuition in shaping human understanding.

By looking at the intricate connection between mathematics and geometry, Penrose prompts a re-evaluation of the mechanistic view of cognition, emphasizing the need to incorporate spatial reasoning and intuitive geometrical understanding into comprehensive models of human thought.

(E) Find a sum of successive hexagonal numbers, starting from 1 , that is not a cube. I am going to try to convince you that this computation will indeed continue for ever without stopping. First of all, a cube is called a cube because it is a number that can be represented as a cubic array of points as depicted in Fig. 2. 1 . I want you to try to think of such an array as built up successively, starting at one corner and then adding a succession of three-faced arrangements each consisting of a back wall, side wall, and ceiling, as depicted in Fig. 2.2. Now view this three-faced arrangement from a long way out, along the direction of the corner common to all three faces. What do we see? A hexagon as in Fig. 2.3. The marks that constitute these hexagons, successively increasing in size, when taken together, correspond to the marks that constitute the entire cube. This, then, establishes the fact that adding together successive hexagonal numbers, starting with 1 , will always give a cube. Accordingly, we have indeed ascertained that (E) will never stop.

Penrose’s work is characterized by a profound appreciation for geometry. His father, a biologist with a passion for mathematics, introduced him to the beauty of geometric shapes and patterns at a young age. This early exposure to geometry shaped Penrose’s unique approach to scientific problems, leading him to develop new mathematical notations and diagrams that have become indispensable tools in the field. His creation of the Penrose tiling, a method of covering a plane with a set of shapes without using a repeating pattern, is a testament to his innovative thinking and his deep understanding of geometric principles.

His fascination with geometry extended beyond the realm of mathematics and into the world of art. He was deeply influenced by the work of Dutch artist M.C. Escher, whose intricate drawings of impossible structures and infinite patterns captivated Penrose’s imagination. This encounter with Escher’s art led Penrose to explore the interplay between geometry and art, culminating in his own contributions to the field of mathematical art. His work in this area, like his scientific research, is characterized by a deep appreciation for the beauty and complexity of geometric forms.

In geometric cognition, Penrose’s work has the potential to make significant contributions. His unique perspective on the role of geometry in understanding the physical world, the mind, and even art, offers a fresh approach to this emerging field. His belief in the power of geometric thinking, as evidenced by his own ground-breaking work, suggests that a geometric approach to cognition could yield valuable insights into the nature of thought and consciousness.

Objective mathematical notions must be thought of as timeless entities and are not to be regarded as being conjured into existence at the moment that they are first humanly perceived.

I argue that the phenomenon of consciousness cannot be accommodated within the framework of present-day physical theory.

His Orch OR theory posits that consciousness arises from quantum computations within the brain’s neurons. This bold hypothesis, bridging the gap between the physical and the mental, has sparked intense debate and research in the scientific community.

Penrose’s work on twistor theory, a geometric framework that seeks to unify quantum mechanics and general relativity, is a testament to his belief in the primacy of geometric structures. This theory, which represents particles and fields in a way that emphasizes their geometric and topological properties, can be seen as a metaphor for his views on cognition. Just as twistor theory seeks to represent complex physical phenomena in terms of simpler geometric structures, Penrose suggests that human cognition may also be understood in terms of fundamental geometric and topological structures.

This perspective has significant implications for the field of cognitive geometry, which studies how humans and other animals understand and navigate the geometric properties of their environment. If Penrose’s ideas are correct, our ability to understand and manipulate geometric structures may be a fundamental aspect of consciousness, rooted in the quantum geometry of the brain itself.

The final conclusion of all this is rather alarming. For it suggests that we must seek a non-computable physical theory that reaches beyond every computable level of oracle machines (and perhaps beyond). — Roger Penrose, Shadows of the Mind: A Search for the Missing Science of Consciousness

[uwmspeccoll]

Typography Tuesday

Fleurons or Printers' Flowers have been a prominent element of typographic tradition at least since the early 16th century, especially those of designer-punchcutter Robert Granjon. They became less used over the 17th century, but were revived in the mid-18th century when Pierre Simon Fournier introduced an entirely new style of printers' flowers. Soon after, their use enhanced as a fashion for classical typography changed the concept of type decoration at the end of the 18th century. The revival of fine typographic design in the late 19th century spurred a proliferation of new fleuron designs in the 20th century that has not abated to this day.

Fleurons may be combined in innumerable ways to create ornate and intricate typographic patterns. Today we show a few of those patterns from Fleurons, Their Place in History & in Print, written, designed, printed, and bound in 1988 by English type and printing enthusiast Mark Arman at his Workshop Press in Thaxted, Essex, in an edition of 170 copies signed by the author/printer. This book is another from the recent of from the estate of our late friend Dennis Bayuzick. Of printing fleurons, Arman writes:

. . . they can be grouped in a variety of combinations: elaborate arrangements are possible, and great enjoyment may be had exploring their possibilities. When I realised all this I began a collection of type decorations which, in the past seven years, has grown considerably. Part of the enjoyment has been finding specific designs. . . . All my 19th century decorations have come from old printing houses which have ceased to operate, or have gone over to litho, so they make a very mixed assortment. . . . [These] are illustrated in the following pages and the text gives a brief account of the craftsmen who created the design.

View other posts on decorative type patterns by Mark Arman.

View other books from the collection of Dennis Bayuzick.

View more Typography Tuesday posts.

[radiaurapple]

Lucid Dreams of New Orleans: Chapter 8

CHAPTER SUMMARY: IN WHICH Alastor goes for a swim.

The last time Lucifer saw his father, he was granted a fragment of His divine power — a punishment in the guise of a blessing — that he might serve as steward of the wayward souls cast down into Hell. It is a cruel gift, designed to ensure that he will always be haunted by his mistakes; Lucifer has endured the past seven thousand years by avoiding its use at all costs. But in the aftermath of the fight with Adam, Alastor’s worsening injury threatens the foundations of his daughter’s dream. Lucifer does what any good father would do: he uses his long-forgotten power to deliver Alastor’s soul from the brink of destruction. In turn, knowing Alastor — with all his sins, past lives, and heartbreaks — teaches Lucifer a little more about what it means to be human.

[AO3 LINK]

Another Saturday means another chapter + another promo art attempt!!! it's human Alastor and Lucifer on the subway!! Next chapter coming next Saturday, chapter preview below! 📻🍎

Alastor returns the next three nights. Lucifer brings him first to Victorian-era London, where they explore the rainy streets under a conjured umbrella. The following night they visit a speakeasy in Chicago — the next they spend wandering the streets of modern Tokyo. 

It is nothing like those nights, so many years ago now, when Lucifer would seek out Lilith’s warmth on the other side of the bed. When he and Lilith touched, they almost always ended up somewhere sleepy and serene — a meadow in the midst of Eden’s enormous, ancient trees, or a breezy morning on the deserted Mongolian steppe, in one of Lucifer’s memories of the age before humans spread across the Earth. Perhaps it had reflected a love built more on companionship than actual desire — the love that would bind any two souls alone at the desolate edge of the world. The love that hadn’t been strong enough, in the end, to hold them together — that had instead flickered out over the years into a warm but lonely friendship. 

This is different. 

The doors of the F train slide shut and the train lurches into motion — Lucifer glares up at Alastor, both of them gripping the pole in the center of the car. 

They’re in New York in 2019. Alastor’s visit today was an unexpected surprise on a lazy morning with no meetings and nothing to do; they’d arrived here just before sunset and spent a while exploring the Lower East Side before they hopped on the train at 2nd Avenue.

“You are fucking unbelievable,” Lucifer says, too loud — a father seated between his two children casts him an affronted glance over the top of his phone. Lucifer continues at a whisper: “How the Hell can you be so sure this is a downtown train? You’ve never even been to New York.”

“I can be sure because I have made use of an advanced technique known as observation of our surroundings. I highly recommend it.”

“Okay, well, you’re wrong. I’m getting off at the next stop. Asshole.” 

“This is a downtown train,” says a voice behind him, not unkindly — Lucifer turns around to find an elderly woman watching them, leaning her forearms against a cart of groceries. She inclines her head above her, at the monitor that lists the upcoming stops. “See? It’s going to Brooklyn.” 

“Oh,” Lucifer says. 

He shifts his weight on his feet as the train slows to a stop. The doors slide open; Lucifer stares out at the pillar reading Delancey/Essex and fights a losing battle against the flush rising on his face. After what feels like an eternity, the doors close again and the train accelerates out of the station.

“This is my first time in New York,” Lucifer says to the woman, as if it will in any way improve this situation. The woman glances up at him again and offers him a smile, but says nothing.

“No, it isn’t,” Alastor says behind him. “He’s been here many times before. He is the Devil, nearly as old as time itself — unfortunately he is notoriously absent-minded and plagued by the regrettable belief that he is always correct.”

The woman blinks at Alastor. The silence is broken by the deafening screech of the train’s brakes as it slows; the doors slide open before an enormous sign that reads East Broadway. 

“Ah — this is our stop. Thank you for your assistance,” Alastor says. He steps fluidly off the train and turns down the platform, toward the exit.

Lucifer stares after him in shock for a long moment, then jolts forward. “Hey!” He trips off the train, quickly rights himself — “You can’t just tell people I’m the Devil!” 

Alastor’s laughter echoes down the platform like music. 

[AO3 LINK]

[80linesofvirgil]

We're fundraising for two queer plays!

Donate Here

Two Come Home is my first produced play in ten years. I wrote it over a period of four years and composed the score in a whirlwind over the last few months. I wanted to explore what happens when teenage lovers reconnect in adulthood, with all the baggage and trauma of a decade apart. Most of all I wanted to write characters with the courage to break out of the relative comfort of solitude in order to reach for happiness. website instagram

Our sister show, which I've done the poster and composed the score for (and play a few lil roles) is a hilarious and moving comedy about the initial stages of coming out as trans and the hurdles that can be discovered among family, friends, dating, and work. instagram

We're taking both plays to Brighton Fringe this year and hopefully more UK Fringes if our applications our successful. Our biggest costs are accommodation, registration fees, and food. Both productions are equal profit shares. We don't have any arts funding so we're running a crowd funder with the help of Essex University. Anything you can donate is greatly appreciated. x

[jeyneofpoole]

Whats been your favourite arctic explorer/boat books you've read? I want recs lol

my favorite franklin expedition book is always frozen in time by dr. owen beattie and john geiger. even if some of the research has been disproven in the years since publication it was so foundational to our understanding of the expedition and the descriptions of the exhumations are incredible and visceral and it's one hundred percent worth reading. my favorite polar exploration book in general is a classic, endurance by alfred lansing. the only nonfiction book that's ever made me cry, and they were tears of relief because it was so well-constructed and made me care so deeply about these real life men. this book kicks ass. also, if you want to know what tim walz was talking about in that one interview this book is a good jumping-off point for getting the jist of shackleton as a person. the madhouse at the end of the earth by julian sancton is fantastic and entertaining, the belgica was a shitshow i love those guys. currently i'm reading in the heart of the sea by nathaniel philbrick, which isn't a polar book but is about wet cannibalism. it's centered on the ordeal of the real whaling boat essex which inspired moby dick and so far it's so interesting. as well as fucked up boat stuff, there's a lot of description about the weird isolated culture of colonial nantucket, which is bizarre and cool. thanks for asking love you forever

[sutherlandspiritofficial]

Throwback 2016 at my favourite beach.

[smolvenger]

A Court of Mischief and Purpose Chapter Fifteen (Loki x fem! Reader Crossover Series)

Series Summary: Based on Sarah J Mass's A Court of Thorns and Roses series with the Tom Hiddleston characters. You are a woman of 1880's in Aldwinter in Essex, England, dying of tuberculosis. Never to be married to the local Lusty Vicar. When Loki appears to you and offers to heal you...if you spend a week of every month with him

Chapter Summary: You and Loki return from the cabin. Stella returns back home. Thomas opens up about the identity of the Weaver's form and his history. Then the cauldron's location is at last revealed.

Word Count: 6K

Warnings: Smut in the beginning (dirty talk, doing it on a table, p in v sex, use of restraints via Loki's shadows), mentions of physical and sexual abuse and violence. I interpret the Thomas/Lucille relationship in Crimson Peak as non-consensual. I choose violence. Grammar and spelling mistakes that miss my radar. But some fluff.

A/N: Wanted to get this done before my play opens tomorrow. Also...if Sarah J Maas put me through it, you guys have to go through it too. Enjoy.

DICK-Tionary: Smut begins at "Let's begin what we started last night" and ends at "You’re wonderful, my dear, truly wonderful"

Series Masterlist

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr

The next morning, it was another beautiful day. You both kissed each other good morning. Holding each other as the sun rose, and the drifts of snowflakes fell. Then slow, lazy morning lovemaking. To only feel each other- greet each other’s bodies, claim each other. You could not help but admire Loki- his muscular back, wide chest, the little chest hair he had that was as dark as the hairs on his head. It almost made you disappointed when he got to change into his clothes. You followed suit with normal clothes, though a little worn and smelly from the day's change. No doubt his magic would have you all cleaned.

The cabin had breakfast. You both sat down, helping yourself to warm oatmeal with honey and eggs scrambled with cheese on them.

But how handsome, how free he looked by the fire! You couldn’t help it- you grabbed him and kissed him again. You couldn’t help but get into his lap.

He spread your legs wide as you straddled him. Continuing to kiss him, he moaned. He was panting as your hands explored him, as your hips met and you began to grind.

You reached back, touching the table, pushing aside the plates, and guiding him on.

“Let’s finish what we started last night,” you urged as you grabbed him.

He let out a smile, pulling up your skirt and petticoat.

“My- already-so much desire! And your second day…but how fortunate your lovely clothing has such…simpler access,” he said.

He leaned over to kiss you, getting wetter as he cupped your face. But his pants were still on him, you felt his hardness brush against you.

“You’re eager too. Again! My mother would tell me, that men can only finish once and then take a lot of time after to recover!” you recalled.

“My dear, you’re forgetting something…”

He undid his pants, grabbing your hips closer once he was freed. But you kept your eyes on his smirk, feeling his hard length just at the start of your entrance.

“I am not a man.”

He thrust on there, his grunts in your ear. Your laughter melted with moans. Immediately, it was intense, faster. Now this- this would be called “fucking,” you thought. He pounded into you, what little dishware shaking.

“Yes-yes-Loki- yes-please-for gods’s sake-your sake-oh-oh yes,”

His pants and grunts, his soft repetitions of your name, the table shaking as he kept on. “Yes-yes, darling- I want to want to take you on every surface here- everyone, until all the corners have felt your-your beautiful bare skin- and not one place isn’t ringing with-fuck-you scream-screaming my name when you cum.”

As he thrust, he let out a grin that bared his teeth. Then a green light shone in his eyes.

“Let’s make this a little more fun,” he voiced.

Then two shadows went up, crawling from him, they held you back. Then one reached up your leg so they were high in the air. Then the other you felt grab your wrists, holding your arms up tight. It was a deep angle.

“Oh-oh gods!” you cried as he reached there.

“Yes- and that god is me now-” he grunted. “Yes-yes keep there- keep there-darling pet-fuck-good-good little pet-”

He kept thrusting wildly. The shadows holding you close. The spin crawled up inside you, tightening everything. Ready to let go.

“Should I-I-I stop?” he teased, still that slight smile, continuing his pounding.

“Please-Please Loki- oh-oh-please no- oh gods-I’m going to cum- I’m about to-about to-”

With that, your release hit you even stronger. The world spun as it all relaxed and released inside you. You made a sound with it- Loki did as well as you felt his release inside you. Both of you stopped for a while, looking at each other as the high ran its course and then washed down. His chest heaving with the breath lost. He pulled out, pulling you up to press your forehead to his.

“You’re wonderful, my dear, truly wonderful…” he breathed out.

The shadows around the room stretched out to the walls. You looked at them as Loki smoothed your skirt and helped you back up, though keeping a hand around your back.

“Loki…how much magic does it take for the shadows?” you asked.

“Quite a bit,” he answered. “It just….flew out of me.”

You looked around to see the Shadows fixing the dishes that fell. They set them back up. Loki kept an arm around you and you placed a hand on his chest to observe. You noticed the green light still shining in his eyes. Then they shrunk, returning to him. You felt a brush past you like a cool mist. They went back to his toes and the green light from his eyes dimmed.

“Your powers are restored!” you cried.

You looked around- the safe, warm cabin surrounded by snow. A table with little water paintings. The smell of warm bread and lovemaking. The crackling, comforting fireplace. The touch of the warm blankets and embraces and reassuring kisses were as delicate and soft as the snowflakes that flew down outside the frosted windows. Then back at him.

“Then…we must go…” Loki said.

“I wish we could stay here longer…” you sighed.

“As do I, Y/N darling. Just be patient, my dear. We will complete our quest…and then we can return whenever we wish���”

Loki went to the fireplace and leaned down. You raised your eyebrows as he reached in but the fire did not burn him. He took the orange orb in his hands and returned unscathed. The fire continued to crackle as normal, though you wondered without the orb it would die and if the food would spoil.

He used his free hand to create a portal. Clutching his arm, you both went to Asgard.

At once, you were in the throne room of Asgard again. Before you were The Variants, Stella and Sif, and Thor in a circle all talking loudly and worriedly. As the portal made a sound as it closed, their heads all whipped back to you two and they were silenced.

“I hope none of you missed us too terribly,” Loki announced.

They gasped and turned to you, all hugs and smiles, reassuring words. Loki went to Thomas and handed over the orb.

“Here we are-long promised. We went through quite the trouble, so it should help.”

“It shall,” Thomas assured him, amazed that the fiery-looking orb did not harm his hand.

Thor then went up and hugged Loki so tight it almost shook the life out of him.

“How I missed you, brother! We must celebrate! All of us!”

As he let down, Loki returned to you and held your hand in his.

“Yes- took a little longer than expected. We apologize- but we are back and safe. I’ll have to tell you all about Y/N’s incredible rescue,” he boasted. He then raised your hand and kissed it. You couldn’t help but smile big.

Stella looked between you two.

“May I speak with her in private for a minute, please?” she asked.

“Oh, of course!” replied your True Love.

Immediately, Stella led you back to her room and closed the door.

“YN! Please- tell me! The way he touched you! The way you looked at each other…are you….did he…say anything!?” she asked with an excited smile, grabbing your arm.

Your eyes were full of happy tears and your smile grew.

“He loves me, Stella!” you cried.

She went up and hugged you, rocking you back and forth.

“Oh, I’m so happy for you! It finally happened!” she cheered.

She then released the hug, lighting and patting your chin.

“Well, you have spent much time surrounded by all of these handsome men! It only seems fair you should pick one of them!” she teased.

You chuckled at her and then went back to holding both of her hands, the words spilling out from you.

“I can’t stop smiling, and yet crying and I feel shaky and humbled yet alive and thrilled! I…I don’t know what to do! I’m crying and yet I’m also laughing so much…” you rambled on, tears spilling out of your eyes.

“Here, let me get a handkerchief…” she offered.

She wiped your face with her handkerchief.

“That’s much better!” she said.

She hugged you again.

“I am so glad after seeing you brave through such misery to be this happy! To see you loved and in love…” she said.

Releasing the second hug, you returned her handkerchief to her.

“I will tell you, Asgard is my home now. But Stella…what of your home?”

She fixed a few blonde hairs that fell out of place in her braid back in.

“I want to go back home. Yes, I spoke with the others but, I decided to leave after it was confirmed you were safe and returned. I miss my family… Dante playing the piano, Edith sighing about all the gloves she wishes she could buy, Elliott and Brian discussing which girls they are infatuated with, my parents on their chairs by the fire- I miss them all! I waited for you and I know you are safe.”

You nodded.

“Loki will be glad to make you a portal back home.”

“Y/N, I promise I will visit- and I will write letters and Thomas will deliver them until then. He’s nice enough to do that-i could never imagine! A baronet delivering my letters!”

You both smiled and then you clutched her hands.

“Oh, you are always welcome here! I will make sure of it. I promise you, Stella, you will always find friendship and safety in Asgard, in the palace at least- and you will be the most welcome guest of them all!” you cried.

“Oh, wonderful! Now…could you come with me to the kitchen, please? I have some things to make and I want you to tell me all about what happened with you and Loki-do not hide one thing from me!”

She revealed that she was in the process of baking goodies for a long time in the kitchen to thank everyone. You told her what happened in Jotunheim. And you did not hide from her about losing your virginity at last to the god of mischief. She blushed but kept listening, never once lecturing you about waiting until marriage. If she thought that, she kept it to herself. She said she was only happy that Loki made you so happy.

The next day was the day of her departure. She made all sorts of little cakes and biscuits to thank them all and handed them off in little baskets that the group opened to gape at. Sif sniffed her hazelnut biscuit curiously, but taking a bite, raised her eyebrows to admit she enjoyed it. Jonathan carefully nibbled his little chocolate cake, but his eyes never left your friend. She dressed in her clean dress and her blue beads around her. Her vase and flowers are in one hand. She then got out a little cloth reticule and set it on top of a suitcase. She went over to enjoy one biscuit before she left. But you eyed the purse dangling on the suitcase.

“What’s in the reticule?” you asked.

“I found all these blue pebbles in the streets and the gardens. They’ll look lovely with the rest of my collection! Oh- and I cannot wait to press those flowers into my journal!” “It does sound like an impressive collection,” Thomas remarked. “Where do you keep it?”

Jonathan’s eyes flickered to the Baronet, an uneasiness to them, and then back to Stella.

“Oh- in my boxes back home, though they are getting a little full-”

Loki conjured her a special blue box. She gasped happily and then moved the items to be placed in.

“Oh, thank you! Loki- I am only so glad you make my dearest friend happy. She truly deserves it- may you always love her and treat her well!” she said.

“Of course, dear Miss Harris.”

She looked at them.

“Thank you all. Thank you to Y/N for listening to me, and for sending help, of course. Thank you, Jonathan, for taking me out of there. I don’t know what would happen to me if you did not. As well as your gift.”

He smiled at her.

“Of course, Stella,” was his quiet reply.

“Thank you, Miss Sif, for guardian me. Mr. Lancaster, Dr. Laing, Sir Sharpe- you all have been so welcoming and warm to me- and tell the Queen and Prince Thor I’m glad to have met them too…now…goodbye everyone! I will write and return and say hello again, I promise!”

She waved them off and stepped into the portal back home. She easily landed on those brown streets and white houses. At once, her family ran through the door. You could briefly see through the family all hugging her and kissing her. A pile of happy Harris’s welcoming her back. Nothing but warmth and love. Then the portal melted back to normal.

You smiled. As much as you would miss her, you were happy for her and her family.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Later that day, Loki said he had to go find his mother to discuss something. He held it up and kissed it tenderly. You gently touched his cheek, a smile on his face. Then, almost hesitantly, he let go and went back up.

As you went over to eat with the others, you saw Hal, Robert, and, most surprisingly, Thor, at a table enjoying some ale in large cups. Your eyebrows shot up at the blonde god of thunder.

“Why, what are you doing here?”

“I much missed the company of these fine fellows- so here I am!” Thor declared. “Besides, we have something we want to discuss! I hear you and my brother are much in love, Lady YN!”

You sat down, feeling warm. Smiling at them.

“Yes. Yes, we are- and we are! And I’m happy!” you cried.

Robert leaned forward, folding his hands and smiling. Though it was smiles they all shared between them.

“Oh, we all knew about it!” the doctor teased. He took a pastry, you weren’t sure if it was one made by Stella or the Asgard cooks, and took a bite of it.

“Loki spoke of you not long after he met you from his trip to Midgard. He was already at least a little besotted. I told him to court you, and pursue you as any suitor should!” Thor recalled.

Robert nodded towards Thor.

“Oh, it was pretty clear you both were interested in each other, we just had to stand by and watch it all and wait for you both to admit it.”

Hal took a bite of his food and then looked at you.

“My lady, you should have seen the day when Jonathan came forth as a messenger, saying that Loki had brought you to Asgard after your apparent cry for help,” he recalled. He gestured to the others there. “He was already watching everything from his shadowy corners. Then he came up to us in this room as we all sat to tell us what occurred.”

There was a little repressed snigger among them.

“We asked if Loki had wooed and won his lady love, especially after her great rescue by a god,” Thor began. The corners of his lips twitched up.

“And what did Jonathan say?” you asked.

“He said you threw a shoe at him,” Robert answered.

They finally burst into laughter. Laughing so hard, Thor’s voice seemed to shake the walls for nothing about him could be minuscule. Hal dipped his head back, baring his teeth in a wide smile. And Robert turned bright red and placed a hand over his stomach.

“How I wish I could have seen it myself! Even now- we cannot help but laugh at that!” Hal chuckled.

You laughed along with them, accepting your ridiculous actions back them. Then Thor turned to you, wiping tears from his eyes.

“Nevertheless, I am glad for it. You make my brother happy and I love him. I’m glad to see him so,” Thor said.

You grinned up at him.

“Thank you so much, I will do everything I can to make sure he is happy,” you promised.

“I believe you already have,” said Thor, clasping a comforting, large hand on your shoulder.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The orb was taking time to work. And Jonathan was completing the last of the translations. He said he would take it upon himself, and he went to the library to focus on that so Thomas could focus on the device. Divide and conquer, as the old saying goes.

You couldn’t help but be curious about this little room where Thomas made his inventions. It was a smaller room. Three desks full of parts, gears, and knick-knacks cluttering all over sat in each part. You noticed all sorts of children’s toys lying about- music boxes, mechanical animals, dolls. There was one device that sat in the corner behind you. It was a lovely little room full of gears, but also little mechanical toys. Devices, miniature machines, and all sorts of things. The tracking device itself looked like a little compass attached to what seemed to be a mechanical crane with wires near a typewriter with a blank sheet of paper in it- untouched. No location yet.

But there was a figure wrapped in a plaid shawl sitting on a chair- the room could get a little chilly. His back to you. Quiet and focused on something on that desk. His dark, curly hair was so much like your True Love’s hair. He turned over with a smile.

“Oh! It’s you” Thomas greeted.

“Hello, Sir Sharpe…how is it all going?” you asked.

He looked over at the tracking device.

“It should take another day…but then it should all be ready. This device shall sense where it is and the typewriter shall write it down,” he answered.

You observed over at some of the little dolls sitting on the desk. Some of them are in cloth dresses like the ones worn in Asgard.

“Thomas- did you make all of these?” you questioned.

“Oh, yes. Sometimes for the business here. But all of my life, I had ideas. I was fascinated by how machines work. I love to make toys. Let me show you- here! This one!”

He gave you a miniature of the machine he was working on.

“This one. It digs up clay and dirt in the ground and harvests it. Perhaps it shall be useful soon after all of this. Now we have to use it to support the Asgard economy. And here…this one….this is the one we need magic for!” he explained excitedly.

“I bet you will help so many others!” you encouraged.

He nodded, setting the device down on his desk.

“Yes…yes, I will. I wish I could open a shop to sell them. Even if it were simply toys for the little children here, I would be happy,” he said.

He looked around at his various devices. And then he turned to you.

“I know you are wondering about what happened in the Weaver’s Cottage…” he began.

“Yes, I do, and I know Loki told me it is personal…” you assured him, a hand flew up before you to pause.

Thomas’s smile melted down, and you heard him take a deep breath.

“Miss, I believe I am ready to tell you…” he began.

He gestured for you to sit on a chair next to him. He removed his shawl. He then folded his hands, slightly leaning over. He rubbed his hand once, and then looked into your eyes.

“The Weaver- her form was that of my elder sister, Lucille.”

It seemed she always took the form of someone personal to your friends. If it was Munrow for Robert, you had your suspicions, from what you gathered of their stories, whose forms she took for Hal and Jonathan…and Loki too.

He looked sad.

“Thomas…you were frozen in that little cottage. And she said something about women dying and you doing nothing to stop it…did Lucille…harm someone?” you asked.

“We have known each other and have been friends long enough, I can tell you…”

He swallowed.

“I grew up under the baronetcy of the Sharpes. We lived in a grand mansion in England in the middle of the countryside. A plain field with no trees. Where the town was a long, lonely walk away. Isolated, imposing, and grand. The mansion I had known for all of my life was twelve times the size of a normal house. One would think my childhood was full of playing through the halls…but Mother locked us up in the attic. All I can remember was having to stay there. And if we snuck out or misbehaved…Father would beat us. Like he beat mother.”

You turned cold inside.

“He broke her legs. Lucille was allowed in and out then to nurse her…she did so much, there was something of protectiveness in her. Once, we were caught sneaking out of the attic and she took the beating in my place. The words my father called her. His daughter. A child…I could never repeat them to you. We would cling to each other in the dark attic. She would sing me a lullaby to help lull me to sleep. I would come up with little toys from the knick-knacks. One night she was sobbing and I embraced her. We made a vow to never abandon or be apart from each other. One we would keep- we were all each other had. Then…then…”

He hesitated. Then taking in another breath, he continued with his eyes looking right into yours, even if they began to blink rapidly.

“I was nine I think…she was already blossoming into adolescence. And she told me….told me one day to…to take off my clothes. And to lie down on the floor in the dark, I didn’t know what was happening. I felt myself crying. But I was curious and I wanted her to feel better…and she…lifted her skirt and she…she…”

He paused. You felt sick to your stomach.

“You can imagine the rest.”

Your mouth opened wide and you set a hand over it in a silent gasp.

“She continued for years. I didn’t know how I felt. Sometimes it was uncomfortable. Sometimes it was nice. I just kept being called over by her…to do it. Bring her some solace. But yet..I…I didn’t know…I didn’t even know what was happening to me when it did…”

He swallowed.

“Then Lucille had enough of our father. His cruelty. Her rage burned up inside her. Until One day, I managed to get out and his bleeding corpse was on the bottom of the stairs… and she was on top, the blood on her hands…”

“So it meant your mother could let you out?”

“No- she still kept us confined. Years passed- I was about twelve. Lucille Fourteen. Then one day she…she caught us in the middle of it.”

You didn’t have to ask what.

“My eyes were shut- they shut whenever it happened. I don’t remember my mother's face, but I remember her crying ‘Oh my god!’ and calling us monsters. But my eyes did open in time…to see Lucille split an axe into her head.”

He swallowed, blinking, and then continued.

“Then the police arrived. Had us separated- I Was sent to boarding school and she to an institution. I learned while she suffered. Part of me always pitied her. I still do, in a way. She loved me so much, and did everything for me…so when I graduated, I kept our promise and I got her out. To survive, to have the money for us, our house, my inventions…she came up with a plan. I’d marry a rich woman and once we had their money transferred to us, she’d kill them.”

“Did you enact it?” you asked.

He nodded.

“Yes. Three times. With three women. Each with little to no family, so no one would come by knocking if they were to disappear. Though I never fell in love with them, I promised Lucille I never would…yet still I…I pitied them. I would bring them here, smiling. Ignorant of their doom. And dread curled in me. And I smiled anyway. Lucille had a special tea she would brew to poison them, weaken them. I would be the one to bring it to them. Kiss their heads, tell them everything was going to be splendid. They would grow sick, and cough blood. Grow weak. They would think it was consumption..”

You felt a chill. Recalling your past illness that led you here.

“But Lucille was impatient. And eager for blood. So once they signed away their money to go to our family, I would go away. Say it was a business trip. Kiss them one last time. Then I left for town. So I would not hear the screams, their pleas for help, for me, for anyone as Lucille took her blade and shredded them apart.”

You were quiet. Thomas looked utterly white.

“I might as well have stabbed myself. I let it happen. I never once laid with them. Lucille always beckoned me, telling me she loved me, and that it was all for me as she began to do acts on me again…only sometimes my body would feel pleasure… yet I always felt…like an animal doing tricks. Doing things since my youth to please her- since it was all I knew, it was at least what I could predict. She spoke to me always harshly, making me go back to her more- for no one in this world I could rely on more than her…she broke me.”

He laid his head down, looking at his own hands. Then he looked back at you, a few tears in his eyes.

“I have so much…shame and guilt. More than I think anyone could understand…I felt like I could never say no to her. Y/N, I know you must think of me as less than a man for refusing to stand up to her-”

“Of course not! You were merely a victim of it all!”

“But I let her do everything- including murder those women. I wanted to escape...but if Lucille was alone, she would…I’d feel…guilty, she was still my sister, who took everything and did everything…then Loki appeared.”

He looked around his inventions, then back at you, wiping the tears off with his hand.

“He knew it all. He knew I…I could never refuse her, or fight her off. He told me if I did, she would kill me. So he offered me an escape, a solution. He said I could move into the palace in Asgard. To a place where the walls didn’t creak and the red clay from the ground didn’t bleed into the floors. Invent for him, for his special quest. He promised me Lucille would be safe and cared for. That there would at least be a…duplicate of me to be there with her so she wouldn’t be alone as she always feared she would be. And he would conjure enough money so that we would not harm any more poor women. And he brought me here.”

He let out a deep breath.

“…I felt bad, but I was trapped in that place. It became a prison. And Lucille and I were long dead even though we still breathed…”

He picked up the shawl and curled it over himself. There was a brief silence between both of you.

“Dear god, Thomas…” you voiced out.

“Now all I want is redemption, from my shame and guilt….from being in her bed since I was young…”

“You were a child taken advantage of!” you cried.

“Lucille was young too.”

“She was old enough to know better!” you pointed out.

He glanced out at the window where sunlight seeped through. Peaceful and joyful.

“And here- here, I can redeem myself from…allowing Lucille to harm three innocent women? From lying to them and leading them to their death?”

“Loki was right. If you refused or denied her, Lucille would have killed you next…” you mused.

He began to blink a little again, his eyes on the window.

“Lucille could have been a wonderful woman, an extraordinary woman even if the world was not so harsh to her as a child….in some ways, she was…but yet…in that haunted, creaking, broken house she was always at home. And me, I felt…felt trapped…”

You reached over and touched his hand to comfort him. His blue eyes went from the window to yours.

“You can call me a villain, Y/N. I am one. I know it,” he said softly.

“Thomas, you were hurt and abused by your entire family. Left alone with no one who would genuinely love you to respect your boundaries and wishes. Left to please those who hurt you to survive…how could I think less of you?” you asked.

He pulled the shawl further over him like a blanket

“I just…I sometimes still feel like a child. Like that little boy…helpless and alone…” he confessed.

You squeezed his hand, continuing to look at him.

“What would you say to that little boy if he was here now? The little boy. Alone and scared. Cooped up in an attic. Beaten by his parents, and molested by his sister… What would you tell him?”

He paused. Truly thinking of it. He looked around as if searching for the right words. Then when he faced you, he had tears again in his eyes.

“I would tell him…if no one would care for him, then I will. I will make sure he never has to suffer as he did…” he answered.

You hugged him and let him cry a little bit more. You then asked a servant to bring him some water and a little food. He cried a little bit more, shaking it, squeezing his long-repressed story out. You brought him your handkerchief for him to wipe off his face. You gave him a small smile, and a hand to rub his arm.

“I’m glad you told me, Thomas. You are a hero now. Helping so much. Making so many things that saved us, and will save even more people. You’re free from it all now. And you have a life where you are loved and valued and won’t be hurt…I think you’ve redeemed yourself plenty…” you consoled him.

He wiped off a few more quiet tears with the handkerchief before he returned it to you.

“Thank you…I must get back to work, but thank you for listening to me, as disturbing as it was.”

“You are my friend, of course, I shall listen to you. Is there anything else about it you need to speak of now?” you replied.

“No…I would also like to congratulate you. I am overjoyed you and Loki are together. You both found someone to love without conditions or control or hurt…”

He picked up a little from the other desk. He smoothed her hair out of her little face, Looking at her with longing.

“I hope someday the same can be said of me someday…” he wished.

“I’m sure you will- I keep noticing you at every banquet and party! All the Asgard ladies keep giggling over you! You will have their pick of them in no time!” you reminded him.

He smiled at you. His posture relaxed. Thanking you genuinely, you said your goodbyes and he continued to his work.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

That evening, you joined your True Love in the garden after dinner to watch the sunset. The roses were in bloom with yellows and reds. Trees rustled with the wind. It was the perfect temperature. Not too frigid or warm. He got out chairs for both of you, as you watched the sky melt into pinks and oranges. Smiling at it as you held each other's hands. Then he turned to you.

“Robert and Jonathan told me about these inventions they had for transportation in their time- they’re called cars! They have no horses and run completely by motors!” Loki reported.

His hand opened and conjured an image of a little car above his palm. Your eyes widened, seeing the bright green shine on it and the tires spinning like a mill wheel.

“Thomas knew of them, but he was astounded they looked like that! And there’s another one- for his great quest against Roper, Jonathan had what is called a Motorcycle! It is like a bicycle from your time, only there are motors inside it too!” he continued.

“A motorcycle!? What does it look like?” you asked.

Loki conjured an image of a little black motorcycle and it spun around. You gaped at it in wonder, partially distracted from the ambiance of the place.

“ How does one ride it? It’d make me frightened to fall off!” you commented

“He said you hop on it and push the right buttons and knobs. Then you take off!!” Loki recalled. He made it whirr into place and then drove through the air before it vanished in a shimmer of golden light.

You smiled wide. Then you held hands, watching the sun glow even brighter as it dipped into the horizon.

“To think, it all is almost done…Thomas’s tracker is going to reveal the cauldron. The dagger will be finished and the spell translated any day now,” you remarked.

Loki let out a deep sigh as he took your hand again in yours. You leaned a head against you as you both embraced.

“Indeed…all those days, and adventures…finally this- are you frightened, my dear?” he asked.

“Yes…I am…I only hope all of that training is in good use, should anything occur…”

“We’ll be ready…we all shall…and I trust you as well, my little warrior mortal,” he commented.

You shifted over to sit on his lap. You hugged each other as the sun got lower. You took a hand to smooth his curls. The sky darkened and burst into stars and planets shining above. You could feel his heartbeat soften in his chest, and feel the rumble as he breathed in.

“Whatever occurs…I am only glad to have met you, my dear…” Loki said.

You smiled at him as he lifted a hand and kissed yours.

You both continued to talk quietly. He helped you off of him and you went to stand.

“Now, my dear…I think we should walk through the city. I assure you, it’s perfectly safe,” he said.

“I may be frightened…but I feel like I can face anything as long as you are with me,” you told him.

His hand never left yours as you both started your walk there. ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next morning, Jonathan and Thomas rushed into the room as everyone ate breakfast. Thomas’s curls fell a little out of place from excitement. Jonathan clutched the book.

“It’s translated…and the device found where the cauldron lies,” Jonathan reported.

Everyone moved quickly before the Asgard royal family could ask questions. Finally, all of you went to Thomas’s workshop. The device shuddered once with the orb inside, and then its gears ran. The typewriter finally began clicking on the paper. Thomas reached and then took off the paper.

He looked at them, Hal had the dagger. Jonathan a copy of a journal with the translated spell.

He then looked at it, squinting, and reading it carefully.

“Svartalfheim- it’s in Svartalfheim in the Cave of Baldir,” Thomas said.

Everyone nodded, hearing it. The answer is finally there. The weight and yet relief washing on everyone. Thomas folded the paper and put it in his breast pocket.

“Then, let us arm ourselves, dear friends,” Hal said.

Clothes were brought for you to fight in. They matched the leathers of Sifs with iron armor for your middle body, shoulders, and knees. You were amazed at the pants- comfortable enough that you could move freely. You sheathed a sword and several daggers. Testing your hand, a bit of fire came out and then back. The ring from the Weavers cottage was placed on your finger. A reminder. A decoration. Still fitting perfectly, the emerald glittering.

Loki then opened a portal and all of you headed through silently.

Svartalfheim was a barren place. Like a desert with nothing but long dunes of tan sand and grey storm clouds. When the sky peeked out, it looked yellow and sickly.

“Now, let us not waste any time,” Loki began.

You sensed out. There was the Baldur cave- it was close! You felt it like a bell ringing in the back of your head. You pointed in that direction to the men.

“It’s there! Everyone hurry!’” you urged.

Off you ran. Then you saw the cave seeping out from the sandy, dry ground like a burrow. All of you walked inside, quieting your steps. Things became dark, only the light from the sun in the back slowly dimming the further inside you wandered. You clutched one hand on your sword.

But a few steps into the cave you already heard bubbling. You stifled a gasp of joy as the dimming light from the mouth shone on something before you-

A cauldron. Large enough that four people could sit inside and as tall as your head. Green liquid swirling about when you peeked in it on your toes. Green steam rose above it like it was a pot of soup.

Everyone smiled and nodded. Jonathan held out the spellbook as Loki held out the dagger, he began to tap it. He began to chant the ancient Norse as he touched it. You held your breath as the phrase was completed.

Nothing happened.

Loki was frowning.

“The spell didn’t work…it is the same as normal, how come?” he asked.

Then out from the shadows, arms reached over and grabbed you.

You let out a scream as well as Loki and the other variants. The dagger and book fell from their hands as they turned around.

Grendel’s men appeared from the shadows in armor just like the ones in Asgard.

You reached over a hand to shoot out the fire- but nothing happened. Loki reached out a hand, but his face fell as nothing hopped out.

And you realized- you had not sensed them. You fought against one- but they held you. Then you heard a voice, smooth, low, baritone, and confident- but it sent shivers up you.

“Congratulations, you fell for the trap, hook, line, and sinker. Welcome to this lovely little cave- there’s a special spell here. No one can perform magic here except me.”

The soldier holding you brought you forward to the voice. A man emerged from the shadows. Dressed still in a black suit like your own times. A pointed chin and sharp features. You recognized the face from your dream- dark hair, green eyes, and pale skin. He could have been handsome, but you knew what he did.

“Grendel…”

He gestured as his men all held your band of friends together.

“All of you make quite a band. Adorable…but quite pitiful.”

“What do you want from her? Don’t you dare touch her!” Loki cried out from where he was. He struggled hard, but they held him tight.

The soldier then let go of you, you tried to rush over to them, but with a flick of Grendel’s finger, an invisible wall came up. Loki struggled and got out, but he realized you were blocked- able to hear and see everything.

“Why…why am I separated from the others- what are you going to do to them?” you asked.

He folded his arms, with a wide smile.

“I made a promise. I always live up to my promises,” he declared.

“Promise? What kind of promises are you even capable of making?!” Robert cursed definitely, tugging against the men holding him back.

With a big smile and dramatic hand, Grendel gestured towards a shadowy corner of the cave.

“Mortal Lady, I upheld my end, and you shall yours…” the villain said.

You turned over to the shadows and saw something. A figure moving.

A green scarf.

Before you had time to process it, the Reverend Will Ransome walked into the light.

[enbysiriusblack]

childhoods of marauder characters:

james- grew up in a wealthy neighbourhood in liverpool with occasional trips to mumbai to visit family. other than the trips to india where he could hang out with his cousins his age, he didn't have other friends and grew up very lonely before marlene moved next door when they were about eight, and she became his first non-family member friend. he mostly played quidditch or walked around the garden playing make-belief, very outdoorsy kid. mcgonagall is his godmother/his mum's best friend and ex, so she was around fairly often and he loved trying to play pranks on her (and always failing). his parents gave him anything he asked for and tried (but struggled) keeping up/playing with him. so he didn't really understand not getting his way or what he wants. he grew up with the idea of love being an unconditional thing, and if you love someone then you give them everything you have and are

remus- grew up in a small village in wales with no other kids around. he never travelled very far, other than to the nearest town when they needed something they couldn't get from neighbours or make themselves. his friends were the neighbour's sheep and dog, and his family's chickens. he struggled knowing how to act around people, and his parents didn't really want him around people as they were very overprotective for his safety after greyback bit him, and he was very separated from popular culture. he spent most days indoors reading, knitting with his mum, or watching and talking to the sheep, and doing household chores. he grew up thinking people would hurt him if he got close or he in turn would hurt them, and knowing that he'd have to try twice as hard as the other kids to have a good future

peter- grew up in either essex or kent in a seaside town. he was raised by his mum with his dad out of the picture, but his mum took in homeless/run away kids and taught them life skills and found them jobs, so she didn't give him much attention and expected him to be able to look after himself. so he spent his days walking around town and the beach, collecting stones and shells and painting on them. he was constantly surrounded by people, but never got attention from them. the people his mum took in also had a lot of mental health issues or addictions, so he learned a lot of more adult things quite young, as well as having a paper round when he was 10 to be able to spend time at the arcade instead of just walking around the street. he grew up with the idea that childhood was very fleeting so he valued that more than anything, as well as growing up with the idea that he had to put his life into his own hands and no one else would look out for him but himself

sirius- grew up in islington, london. occasionally going to france or other countries for holidays or special events they were invited to- like charity galas and annual balls. grew up in a family that were losing their money, with the aristocratic class fading away, but were desperately trying to cling onto upper class lifestyle. was expected to be quiet and polite and act like a grownup, but never did. had prospective friends visit all the time but he never got on with them (evan rosier being one of them), which made his parents give up after a while. his parents wanted him to be quiet and studying constantly (if not socialising with other respectable families) so it gave him an easy way to pretend he's studying in his room whilst sneaking out to explore the muggle world. he grew up thinking he was shameful to the people around him, which only made him want to be more shameful cause fuck em, since he was also taught just by being born, he was superior to others (which he slowly unlearnt)

regulus- grew up in islington, london. occasionally going to France or other countries for holidays or special events they were invited to- like charity galas and annual balls. grew up in a family that were losing their money, with the aristocratic class fading away, but were desperately trying to cling onto upper class lifestyle. was expected to be quiet and polite and act like a grownup, which he did. unlike, sirius he did not have prospective friends visit as he wasn't the heir and his parents thought him too strange and awkward for other respectable families. his parents wanted him to be quiet and study constantly so he did just that, other than when he played piano or cello which he had permission by his parents to do anyway. he grew up thinking he had to constantly impress his parents to live up to sirius' easy charming personality and brains, as well as being taught that just by being born, he was superior to others (which he never unlearnt)

lily- grew up in a small town nearby woods (i like the idea of her being scottish but i cannot imagine a scottish severus, so maybe her family is scottish but moved to midlands of england). her parents both worked full time and did a lot of overtime/work out of hours so petunia looked after lily and the house most of the time, leaving lily to go out and play. she was very outdoors-y and hated being at home all day, unlike petunia, so she'd go out to the woods to find severus and play with him, or visit the nice old ladies down the round or go to the park (big fan of the swings) or collect bugs. petunia always seemed so much more grown up than her, and when she did more and more magic, they grew even more separated and lily spent less and less time at home. she grew up with the idea she had to be mature and high achieving to get petunia to want to hang out with her, and that the world in general could seem like a scary or dangerous place but that there was really goodness and kindness and nice things in it all

mary- grew up in plymouth, devon. her dad was in the fishing industry and had quite unreliable hours, which made her more close to her mum, but she still got on well with both of them. she had an older sister who got on with them less, since she was a goth and a lesbian and didn't care what people thought, and their parents are a bit more traditional, but tried being openminded- mary looked up to her a lot despite being very different people. she had a lot of friends and went to a lot of kids clubs (like gymnastics, arts & crafts, performing arts, etc.) also i see her as muggleborn, so she went to primary school obviously and had lots of friends from there). grew up with the idea people are people and you should accept them for their differences (cue friendship with alt butch lesbian autistic marlene), and you should always do what you think is best for you, despite what other people want from you

marlene- scottish but moved to liverpool at around eight years old and met james. is the youngest, and has a few older brothers. her family is very traditional so her mum tries to spend the most time with marlene and teach her feminine qualities, although marlene just wants to go out and play quidditch or go to james' and throw mud at each other for 5 hours. grew up catholic and kept her faith, goes to church every Sunday and does confessions when shes old enough. had meltdowns often as a kid, especially having undiagnosed autism with a mum who wants you to do the opposite of what you want all the time, and she'd run over to the potter's to calm down. grew up thinking she was 'too much' (my beloved quinni variant) and had a lot of religious issues to work through (especially concerning her sexuality)

dorcas- grew up in belfast with their dad. she'd accompany him to building sites (her dad's a builder) often when no one was available to look after her, and they'd play around in the safe areas and the other builders would go talk to her/play with her whilst on their breaks. grew up in a flat with a lot of friendly neighbours in the building who helped raise them. their dad would go out with workmates to the pub after work, when they could, so she spent a lot of time there and always got given free juice and crisps (kids going to pubs is a very normal thing in the uk btw!) had a large sense of community, but not much experience with making friends their own age. grew up with the idea that the world was a dangerous place (its northern ireland in the 60s...) but also that change comes from the people and she could do whatever she could to help others

emmeline- grew up in south korea at a young age but moved to scotland to live with her grandparents (on dad's side) at around six/seven to learn english and prepare to go to hogwarts (her dad grew up in scotland and went to hogwarts). her parents expected her to be studying in the years before hogwarts started, but she never really did (other than her grandfather teaching her english and her grandmother teaching her a few charms). went to a 'bright futures' club and made a few friends there, as well as her fake order of merlin that she began carrying everywhere. she sent letters to her dad constantly, lying about her fast progress and only received a few letters back. grew up thinking she had to achieve greatness or she was worthless, and had to constantly get attention from loved ones by whatever means she could

[newx-menfan]

NYX #2 Review

Spoilers!

Sadly this is a week late- life has been getting hectic and my subscriptions on Kindle never seem to work lol (I had originally meant to write up commentary on the podcast episode before issue two dropped and still haven’t finished it 😔)… but let’s dive in!

The issue starts with Laura monologuing as she takes down some random thug.

You’ve probably ALREADY saw the sample pages of this issue (especially if you follow my tumblr lol) but the girl Laura is trying to save doesn’t want to leave with her, saying they’re “friends” and that if Laura needs help too, she just needs to go “local” (Foreshadowing….Laura’s bad taste in men possibly strikes AGAIN 😂🤣)

We see Laura hanging out at some dilapidated place in East Harlem…(what happened to Logan’s old apartment that she shared with Gabby? Did they sell it during the Krakoa era…because Logan PROBABLY had locked in rent from like the 70’s…that was a horrible decision Laura…like do you know HOW hard it is to find non-brokered housing in NY anymore??!) 

Laura is thinking about Kiden (and in goth clothes again!) as she tracks down some mysterious figure (sadly not a green telekinetic!) in Bushwick (also shout out to one of my favorite spots in NY!)…

At an underground club, we’re introduced to Local. Local is…interesting (people weren’t wrong about the Gambit comparisons lol). Laura convinces him to get her a call with Local’s boss, Mr. Smiley…but Kamala randomly pops up with Anole and Sophie in tow!

Laura gets pissed as Kamala tried to talk about the “mysterious telekinetic” (Laura doesn’t want to talk about her previous secret EX Kamala!) and calls them “Kamala’s little friends” (DON’T be MEAN to ANOLE, Laura!); telling Kamala to stay out of it and not blow her cover….

Laura has fun committing crimes with Local; obviously reminded of her time with Kiden. (If Laura had a crush on any girl…it was PROBABLY Kiden guys lol)

Local’s last challenge before she can meet “Mr. Smiley” is stealing whatever is in Orchis’s Essex building; Laura challenges him that for everything she breaks, he has to tell her some truth.

It’s a kind of sweet and interesting moment, where readers get to see how easy it would be for Laura to slide into the old ways of “X-Force” or “NYX”…

Yet Prodigy drops reality on Laura- that this isn’t who she is anymore. You can’t live in the past.

Laura meets Mr. Smiley…who is really….you guessed it! (I totally didn’t lol!)…Mojo!

Laura gets beaten…BADLY…and retreats.

(Also we get one of the LOVELIEST panels EVER!) 

The issue ends with Laura realizing that she can’t do it alone- contacting Kamala and Sophie.

 Review:

I for one…kind of wish we had gotten a Laura solo issue this time around; I think it was needed and could have been akin to “Zuko Alone”, Logan’s “Patch” era, or X-Men # 182, where Rogue breaks into Shield…it’s been a while since writers really explored Laura’s psyche…

In some ways the weird pop up of Kamala drags the story a bit- this should have just been written as happening weeks before issue #1, in my opinion.

While I liked the ending…it somehow felt too soon a realization for Laura…I kind of wish they had played with the “loner” bit, dragged it on a little bit longer…

Another tiny critique- I really can’t stand Laura swearing. So many writers try to make it work…but it just doesn’t work. It just doesn’t really suit her, in my opinion. (Stop trying to make “fetch” happen lol)

Still, I think this issue is really solid. Laura is really nicely written and it’s probably the closest we’ve come to Kyle levels in a while.

Laura realizing “you can’t go back”….is something that’s really great to play with. It’s something everyone struggles with, when the “good times” pass. Laura can’t move on from her past…yet she can’t go back to it either. She can’t be the person she was.

Local also definitely plays into Laura’s nostalgia of Liu era adventuring with Gambit as well as Kiden… it makes sense why she would gravitate to him.

I actually like the addition of Local and hope he ends up being a regular (much better than Catwoman’s recent terrible love interest!) 

The Prodigy ending was a sucker punch and REALLY wonderfully done! Using David, an old NYM connection as a source of guilt (and David ALWAYS was the voice of reason!) was really excellent; even if there wasn’t much interaction between the two in the original NXM. The only thing that COULD have made it better…was if it had been Dust, Mercury, or Elixir…but that’s a nit pick.

NXM was the turning point for Laura, so it makes sense that someone from THAT time would “wake her up” a bit….

Overall, I would say it’s definitely a solid issue…I think there’s minor things they could have changed, but it’s still a better “Laura” than we have seen in a while.

Theories:

Mojo is totally going to use Local to get to Laura…

Krakellion’s mission is deeper than making NYC the next Krakoa; they’re actively fighting against Mojo…