#jess writes cs

[juliasmesmerized]

Me and You

pairings: Josh Washington x gn!reader, Mike Munroe x gn!reader requested type: two pining on an oblivious reader! summary: Mike and Josh shoot their shots on the reader while they just can't get it. vibes intended: Timeless - The Weeknd, Playboy Carti word count: 3334

REQUEST: Hii mootie ! I just saw your post so i may have an idea ? 💞 if you want ofc ! Mike and ahem my cutie pie josh fighting over reader? For her/their attention and the silly agrument went like hmm heated? 😭 not sure if u do smut so i'm sure if you're do or not- but it doesn't have to be one! Maybe yk both of them being obsessed w reader cs yk we r js their light to their darkness <33 [also if i made typos mb im really sleepy 😿💔] ALSO HAPPY NEW YEAR 🥳🎀 i hope ideas come to you ! You can ignore this take care🤍🤍 - @castielsloversblog

RESPONSE: hi pookie! happy new year!! it's so sweet of you for this and I super appreciate the ideas. I had some time off focusing on finals and I def wanted to explore other characters than just Josh. I write for everyone, yall I love them all. I got ideas as soon as I read this and asked a friend which request to do first, yours was her choice! Enjoy!

Michael's party was almost underway after a week of planning. Since it was a bunch of the group's first college frat party, Mike decided to plan Jess's, Matt's, Ash's and your first one. Sam's brows slightly furrowed; frat parties are never really chill and freshmen never attend for that reason.

Sam sat with her sketchbook. "Maybe we should have a small get together instead of a full party full of college upperclassmen." Her red coat was eye-catching for the infamous night of halloween eve.

Casa de Mike was decorated with black and orange ornaments. A full skull near the door with a sign that says 'how you doin'?'. There was red splattered around some areas with washable liquid, and LED lights placed around with the remote being Mike's phone.

Mike was setting up more decorations with Jess. "Don't worry about it, Sandiego. It'll be fine! If anything happens to the three freshmen we got them. Josh and I will be on watch." Jessica's hair was longer than usual, gold and sleek. Her purple dress didn't touch the ground, but her hair did.

Emily teased. "You sure you can handle that hair?" Emily wore a black headpiece reminiscing a swan; a corset endowed in pretty bows and a tutu skirt. Edgy black eye makeup and a soft red lip. Her hair didn't fit a bun, so she let it down.

"I better look the part! One night of long hair shouldn't be as bad as wearing heels all night." Jess spoke up as she placed a skull head on the snack counter.

Chris, looking as if he was going to save a young girl, who was immune from a virus, from dying on the operation table that could've saved the whole world. "Why is Jess even here, Mike? Wasn't it supposed to be a surprise?"

He left everything he was doing to stare at Chris. "She had to come over early to do the skull look. Ain't no way I'm doing this myself." He pointed on his face like 'duh!'. He had a skull face drawn on by the makeup artist herself and a full black outfit. A black button up and black slacks and dress shoes. With his height and build, you could see him as a one night fling.

"Riiiiight." Chris went back to checking his phone.

Jess kept going back and forth checking each of the rooms that will be available to the guests, that being the living room, walk-in kitchen, and two bathrooms. "Why is Chris here early anyway?"

"I'm punctual! Why can't we appreciate punctuality these days?" Chris crosses his arms, but lets out a chuckle.

Emily rolled her eyes jokingly. "An hour early isn't punctual, it screams 'I don't have anything else to do with my life.'"

Chris sat next to Sam. "You're not doing much over here either, Em." Sam chuckled from time to time by their conversation as she kept placing strokes onto the pages.

"I was asked by Mike to come early because I knew how to make a party. I got some decorations he could use."

"Mhm. And I am extremely jacked." Chris sarcastically chaffed.

Emily snorted. "Whatever you say, whoever you are!"

"It's from The Last Of Us!"

Emily shook her head as she rested her weight on the wall behind her "Nobody but you would know that."

Jess shouted for Mike who was across the hall. "I think everything's ready here, Mike!" She walks towards Sam; once Sam's pencil left the page, a hand swiped the sketchbook away.

Sam pouted at her younger friend's action. "Jess..!"

"Look here. She's drawing us!" Jess ushered the rest to the notebook. Everyone was dressed up and almost taking a selfie in Samantha's reimagining. Some important people are missing, but were considered by some circles.

Emily cooed as she saw herself holding a peace sign. "Awww, Sammy!" She took it off of Jess's hand to have Chris take a closer look.

His smile earnest, Chris beamed. "I look pretty cool."

Sam shyly looked away from the three complimenting her work. "I'm waiting to see the others to include them."

Jess gave Sam her sketchbook back. "Secret's safe with us!"

The doorbell rings. Sam, like clockwork, got up towards Mike. "Could I hide this somewhere safe? I didn't bring much of a bag."

"Yeah sure, follow me. Em, could you get the door?" Mike walks up the stairs with Sam behind him.

"Sure." She walked towards the door, twisting the knob just right. Her eyes befell the raggedy clothing and dull dark green skin.

An enthusiastic Matt radiated through the realistic zombie costume. "Hey Em! Didn't expect to see you at the door."

Emily stepped aside to let him in. "Woah Matt, how'd you nail the zombie look that well?"

Matthew's positive attitude changed the atmosphere that surrounded them. "I checked some tutorials online! Cool right?"

Emily smiled. "Piqued my interest for sure." She closed the door behind him. He took in the fresh changes done to Mike's place; an area he frequented before, but looked completely redone for this fun occasion.

Matt turned his head to see Jess sitting down. "Do they always go all out with these parties?"

"Frat parties? Yeah, it gets people going." Jess stood up, walking closer to Matt. They had a quick hug.

Sam and Mike came down the stairs and greeted Matt. Before he could continue surveying his surroundings further. The bell rang one more time. Mike went ahead to open the door as a good host.

You and Ashley arrived together. Josh in a separate car arrived around the same time, which had you three at the door.

Mike stepped aside for the rest to come in. "Welcome in!" He kept the door open as a few others began to gather parking outside his suite.

You had a pirate ensemble on, fitting the halloween theme. Ashley's face was highlighted by fawn features; the pretty white spots surrounded by light brown, a light wing on her eyes, the contouring on the nose with the white dots, and a special fawn headband. She wore a short brown dress with white gloves. Her brown boots perfectly cemented the deer getup.

Matt spoke up as he greeted Ashley. "Ash, you look amazing!"

"Thank you, Matt! So do you!" She responded, but all of that drowned as Mike came to greet you first.

He definitely glanced over to fully take you in; top to bottom. "Nice costume you got on. Very coastal."

Joshua walked up next to you. "Thanks Mike, so do you!" You had a smile creep up your lips due to the compliments you've gathered so far and the night barely began. It started with Ashley, then Josh, and now Mike.

Emily looked around. "Where are Han and Beth?"

Josh's demeanor never changed. "They asked to come in a separate car, Hannah's been practicing how to drive. Something about keeping their costumes a surprise from everyone."

Sam recalled all close interactions with the twins. Hannah purposefully kept her mouth zipped, even if she could never hide anything from Sam. Beth was more relaxed about everything, and can hide a few things. "Right, Han never even told me her costume."

"That's interesting. They'll also be the only high schoolers here, keep 'em safe." Josh looked around towards everyone, knowing they'll be a helping hand. They loved pranking each other, but when it came to safety; it was no joke.

A few nods and notes of agreement came from the entire group. The doorbell kept ringing until the place was filled with college students ready to start the weekend off with a bang.

Hannah and Beth entered in completely differing outfits. Hannah went for Emily from Corpse Bride and Beth decided to go Raven from the DC comics.

You greeted everyone and began to drown into the crowd and the ongoing party. There was dancing, conversation, the loners, people jumping into the swimming pool, and drinking; which you couldn't even tell if it was legal.

You decided to head outside for a breather and dip your feet into the water. Before you could fully slip away, Josh took your hand and moved you towards the hallway near the bathrooms.

His smile, gleaming as ever. He decided to have a square voice changer that could be attached to his shirt. The white shirt and jeans outfit was simple to the naked eye, but with the drawn on blood stain and fake knife, you could tell it was from a slasher film. The iconic line of his would go: What's the matter Sidney? You look like you've seen a ghost.

Instead, he goes on elsewhere. "You enjoying the party so far?"

"Yeah, it's definitely new, but nice. It feels you might drown into the crowd any second." You smiled at his attentive nature.

He nodded. "Right, you gotta just get your footing." Your eyes gaze at the square microphone at his collar and he realizes.

Josh takes it off and clicks a button. His voice was augmented as it came out of the machine. "You know, it works." Your eyes sparkled at the interaction.

You looked into his eyes and back at his hand holding the mic. "That's such attention to detail! Amazing!" The astonishment never truly left your face even when Jess called out to Josh.

Jess tapped on his shoulder and looked up to see him. "I need you for something."

"You good, Jess? What's up?" He looked genuinely concerned for a moment. She wasn't one to ask for Josh out of everybody.

She gave a slight smile at his care. "Just a few minutes of your time." He followed her as they walked off, and you were alone once again. You walked outside to see a cooler with a bunch of drinks. Walking up to it, looking into the different choices, you were stumped.

"I'd say it's too early for a drink." The familiar voice had you turn around to Mike. His hazel eyes stared into you with intensity. "We'll be here all night you know."

You cross your arms at him, amused at his conversation. "You're saying I shouldn't party hard and get wasted?"

He chuckled at how far you took it. "I'm just saying a pirate should be stealing hearts, not taking shots."

Going with his flow, you think of a good response. "Whose heart is on the market to be stolen? I don't see any, personally." You point towards the multitude of couples at his place.

He smiled. "You'd be surprised-" He was cut off by another friend.

Chris cries out from behind you and Michael. "MIKE! Mike! Mike!"

Mike turns around to respond. "Yeah, Chris?"

He points back into the crowd. "A girl puked and I don't know what to do? Come with me let's carry her somewhere. She's unconscious in one of the bathrooms."

Michael groans. "I gotta take care of that, see you."

"Of course, take your time. Enjoy." By this point, Mike gave his back to you. He raises his hand to salute and says back: "not going to enjoy it!"

You chuckle at his response, even if he groans and complains; as anyone would, he still would get the job done wholeheartedly. The party is ever-so slightly going harder. People are making out, sleeping on the floor, jumping to the beat, anything you could imagine was happening.

Going back inside, without a drink. The conversation with Mike took your mind off of it; probably for the best. The song playing was something you used to listen to at times, known to be a cult classic at clubs and parties. It was getting to the good part.

Fresh out the trench, four hundred packs Uh, yeah, I'm spinnin' in Paris

Josh creeped up from behind you. "You should try the dance floor." His smile, filling you with comfort and excitement, had you eager to try something new. There was some space at the designated area; the living room where the sofas were placed away from the wooden floor. He put out his palm for you to grab.

Dress for these hoes, they finna flock Just poured a four in a soda, it pop

You smiled at his gesture, and take his hand. "Why not? I love this song." Sam kept eyeing the two of you as you held his hand. Hannah and Beth could be seen whispering to each other. The eerie feeling chilled your spine, but you ignore it in pursuit of trying something new at this new experience.

Them drugs finna hit, I'm feelin' ill I'm wrestlin' all of my demons, I feel like The Rock

The lights flashed random strong colors at semi-long intervals, blue, red, green, purple, orange. The crowd interested in the song jumped to the beat and chanted the lyrics. You and Josh join them. The beat was about to drop. Everyone was colorfully assorted in costumes and embroidery to show off their favorite characters, mastery in creation and design, and just having fun with outfits.

Ever since I was a kid, I been legit If I was you, I would cut up my wrist

The song moves you and Josh follows you. In your element, you don't realize his hands echoing your hips. Eyes closed, feeling the moment and everything surrounding it slow down. Only you, Josh, and the music mattered.

XO tatted all over her body, yeah She just wanna roll and I don't mind it, yeah

Your costume flowed alongside you, the golden chains and belt moved with you, and Josh was taking all of you in. Regardless of how much of a bad dancer you could've been, it felt natural and the confidence showed. Mike glanced at you, already whisked away before he could've done anything.

Ever since I was a jit, I been legit You should let her go, she wanna be it

Josh looked at Mike, knowing the situation they were both in while mouthing the lyrics. Gritting his teeth, Michael put his weight against the wall, leg up, and arms crossed. Planning his next move, as Josh and you continued to the song.

You smiled to Josh as the song calmed down. "Thanks for calling me up here." You still had energy, but the climax of the song has ended.

Joshua effused; still trying to keep cool. "Of course, I knew you'd enjoy your time."

"Have you?" You raised an eyebrow towards his sincerity.

His blue eyes locked onto yours. "With you? Of course I would."

You chuckle to his seemingly disingenuous response. "You'd say that to everyone."

He bantered alongside you. "You wound me! I can have special moments with special people." His right was on his heart and his left hand was on his forehead, his eyes were closed, looking especially dramatic.

You rebutted, seeing him flirt with Sam and Jess quite often. "Yeah, when you don't flirt with every girl you know!" You and Josh both know flirting with Jess, recently single, was more of a joke. If she gets a guy, she wouldn't let Josh even have an inch of a chance to try.

Mike was getting more pissed as he saw you laughed with another guy, even if that was your mutual friend. The idea of you laughing with a friend was innocent enough, but he knew this guy has it in for you also. He hated it; despising the fact you couldn't be the one to focus on him as they were both pining for you.

There wasn't much you could do, he knew that. He knew you wouldn't get out of your comfort zone and do anything like that. You all were friends, and he understood. Josh also thought the same in regard, which pushes them both to pursue you more aggressively. As a board game would go, each of the guys took turns with trying to get you.

Using their wingmen as chess pieces to get you alone, they strike at different times. He couldn't have Jess call Josh out while you guys were dancing, and when he finally had the chance to, you both were done. Michael's train of thought has clashed as he saw Josh make a move. His finger brushed your cheek. His clenched his fist at the sight.

They both agreed not to make a serious move until you figure yourself out. Everyone knew about it at this point, the staggering looks, the whispers, Jess and Chris, everything was calculated. Until Joshua ruined the deal and Michael had to deal with that, alone. Joshua would have to rave the consequences as well, alone.

Without much thought, Mike was already holding Josh's hand away from your face. "Not going to cut it man."

Josh, looking puzzled, responded to Mike. "Yo, dude, what's going on?" You stepped aside from them, knowing that Mike was not happy and you wanted nothing to do with it.

Mike's facial expression was relaxed, but his stare didn't let up at all. "You know what's going on. You disregarded what we agreed on." Everyone who caught onto the situation surrounded them and almost pushed you back from the suspense and itching tension.

You squeeze through them regardless and hold your head high to see everything.

"You can't just claim the situation however you want. How long are we just gonna sit here and verbally shoot our shots? Some people fall after physical encounters."

He shook his head, more forcefully this time. His tone went deeper as he tried to hammer in his point of view. "That doesn't matter. We agreed on something, Josh. Don't fuck with me."

"You're too scared to shoot your shot, don't blame it on me. That was your doing, I took that grace period with you and now we can BOTH do what we want until she takes a stand."

A clenched fist flew into Josh's face. His right cheek, now bruised and red, turned away. "Fuck you, Mike." He held onto Mike's black collar and took his left hand to swing at him. The punch landed on Mike almost immediately.

The chants of "Fight" grew repetitive and loud. As the fight got more heated, more people covered your vision. After crawling out of the situation you were put in, you find Josh on top of Mike. Josh was landing punch after punch while Mike defended himself. You were beside yourself, this felt too much to bare and your eyes widened at the scene. You ran towards them.

They were both in the wrong, you know that. Neither of them should've had this escalate to this, but nothing could be done now but to stop them both from hurting each other further. Josh had a bloody nose, Mike got a black eye, the injuries on them both were never ending.

You screamed. "Stop this!"

Not that it did anything. Blinded and drowned by the current moment, Mike got the energy to push Josh off of him and began to get on the offense. Before his hit could land, Chris grabbed Josh away and Matt put his hands under Mike's arms and pulled him away.

Chris looked over towards both of his friends. His tone more sincere than it was the entire night; feeling stern. "She asked you guys to stop. Stop this."

Sam began damage control immediately. "Show's over everyone. Go home." Beth began helping her out in swaying people to drop the situation. De-escalating something this heated would never be easy or even fully fulfilled, but Samantha definitely had to try.

Hannah, Emily, and Jessica had nothing to do with helping the scene, instead Hannah was frozen in shock of Michael's newfound discreet confession. Emily and Jessica were silently eating up the whole ordeal; two guys fighting over someone? Yeouch! This sounded like a good Friday night to them!

Once everyone cleared up, Josh immediately headed on. Silently glad that Hannah and Beth had their own separate ride. No one could've even silently checked on him on the side, for he was already gone.

IM BACK BAYBEEEEEEEE! Thank you so much for reading this! I definitely enjoyed this request, please send some more! I have more to write later on, and I definitely have ideas for. I haven't forgotten them, but I got overworked with finals and I couldn't get really good ideas, there was one request I made three separate ideas for, but finally decided on one. •ᴗ•

[aurorawest]

Reading update, part 1

Paris Daillencourt is About to Crumble by Alexis Hall - 4/5 stars

The problem with this book was that I liked Paris and Tariq, but god, it was rough to read. I also felt—and I'm going to be honest, this is an issue I've been noticing increasingly with Hall's newer novels—a little like I was reading like, the Perfect And Unproblematic Way To Date. There's this sort of preachy, social media I-don't-know-who-needs-to-hear-this quality to a lot of the dialogue. It was also just hard to read at times. But I still rated it 4 stars, so I guess I didn't hate it.

Rattlesnake by Kim Fielding - 5/5 stars

This book is about a drifter who ends up in a town because a hitchhiker dies in his car (sounds grimmer than it is!), and the hitchhiker was trying to get to said town to see his estranged son. If you said to yourself, I bet the drifter falls in love with the estranged son, you would be exactly right. This book was so poignant and sad, so the HEA was amazing.

Gold Wings Rising by Alex London - 5/5 stars

This is the last book of The Skybound Saga and it was an excellent ending.

Heart of the Steal by Avon Gale and Roan Parrish - 3.75/5 stars

I told a friend the other day that I would die for Roan Parrish, but I should have told her not to pick up this book. It wasn't awful, but...it wasn't great, either.

Rag and Bone by KJ Charles - 4/5 stars

The Reanimator's Heart by Kara Jorgensen - 4/5 stars

The Half Life of Valery K by Natasha Pulley - 5/5 stars

Look. Guys. I've raved about every Natasha Pulley book I've read, yeah? And this is no exception. I need you all to read this. Like, I'm not sure you're all taking me seriously out there. But if you read anything I've recommended, it needs to be Natasha Pulley's books. I can only rate up to 5 stars on Storygraph, so yeah, maybe it looks like I loved this book the same as I loved Rattlesnake by Kim Fielding. No. This book lives in my heart and my mind. This book is part of my soul. All of her books are. I love and hate her for A) making me feel SO MUCH and B) being a better writer than I will ever be.

I know I've said nothing about the book, but like. You just have to trust me. Read her books.

Oh yeah, this one is about a nuclear disaster in the USSR that was covered up for decades.

You & Me by Tal Bauer - 4.5/5 stars

Teddy Spenser Isn't Looking for Love by Kim Fielding - 3.25/5 stars

Man, I wanted to like this one? It felt really phoned in, though. The characters all felt very surface level.

The Whispering Dark by Kelly Andrew - 4/5 stars

Subtle Blood by KJ Charles - 5/5 stars

How did this series just keep getting better? I'm so bummed that this was the last in the trilogy, because I totally could keep reading about Will and Kim and their adventures.

Firestarter by Tara Sim - 5/5 stars

Also the last in a trilogy, and also a worthy wrap-up.

The Mayor and the Mystery Man by AJ Truman - 4.25/5 stars

Fence, Vol 5: Rise by CS Pacat with Johanna the Mad - 5/5 stars

Cattle Stop by Kit Oliver - 5/5 stars

AHHHHHHHHHH. God. This book! Looks like a romcom but will stab you in the heart repeatedly. Oliver has a gorgeous way with words and captures the dynamic between two people who have no idea how to talk to each other so well. There's something the dialogue in Oliver's books that just speaks to me.

Rookie Move by Riley Hart and Neve Wilder - 2.75/5 stars

Boyfriend Goals by Riley Hart - DNF

Please note here that it seems like I don't like Riley Hart's writing. Unfortunately I still have like 3 of her books in my TBR pile.

The Gentleman's Book of Vices by Jess Everlee - 4.75/5 stars

Even Though I Knew the End by CL Polk - 4.5/5 stars

I feel a little meh about this one, despite the rating I gave it. Like, the world was cool, the writing was excellent. I've seen this book hyped so much, though, and it was like...yeah it was fine. Definitely the best over-hyped Sapphic book I've read lately, so there's that.

Nothing Like Paris by Amy Jo Cousins - 4.5/5 stars

Necropolis by Jordan L Hawk - 4.25/5 stars

Roommate Arrangement by Saxon James - DNF

The Place Between by Kit Oliver - 5/5 stars

Yeah this Kit Oliver book was really good too. It's about academics instead of farmers but it will still stab you in the heart a bunch of times. Oh and it's fake dating.

A Dash of Salt and Pepper by Kosoko Jackson - DNF

I didn't love Kosoko Jackson's debut—there were waaaaay too many pop culture references, many of which I didn't understand, but even when I did, I found it obnoxious. But it was readable. This was...not. I hated the main character so much, and I barely even met the love interest, but I didn't like him, either.

Level Hands by Amy Jo Cousins - 4.25/5 stars

The Secret Casebook of Simon Feximal by KJ Charles - 4.25/5 stars

How to Bite Your Neighbor and Win a Wager by DN Bryn - 5/5 stars

I looooooved this book, omg. I'm not really a vampire person, but this was so cute. I guess it was kind of cozy fantasy? Sort of? With a backdrop of homelessness, medical experimentation, and bereavement.

Rule of Wolves by Leigh Bardugo - 1/5 stars

Catch me never reading a Leigh Bardugo novel again. Oof. This woman wrote Six of Crows and Crooked Kingdom? I wasn't too impressed by King of Scars but that was better than this, even though the Crows actually appear in this book.

The Barkeep and the Bro by AJ Truman - 3/5 stars

Heartbreak Boys by Simon James Green - 4.5/5 stars

I don't usually laugh out loud when I read, but this book made me cackle. Obnoxious self-referential bit aside (yeah Simon James Green, I did catch you slipping a reference to your previous book into this one), this was very cute and very funny. I even got my wife to read this, despite her dislike of romance and YA, and she liked it!

Part 2 (because tumblr cut me off at 30 images)

[csmeanerr]

Is Jesse of Symprites THE Jesse? The one we have a pretty sizable tag on in the archived blog because of some good reasons? The one who was supposedly leaving all CS and going through a workbook for their BPD? The behavior and writing style are similar enough to throw me for a loop.

post related

idk but it'd be funny

[nightships]

The Captain’s Cabin Part 1 (again)

It’s been ages, but @everything-person sent a kind ask about a broken link! I have a sneaky feeling tumblr didn’t like my shirtless edit of our fair Killian that I originally uploaded with the fic. There is ALMOST CERTAINLY a better way to do this, and maybe i’ll get the energy to go fix the links in the old posts, but in the meantime here’s a re-upload of chapter one! reminder that it’s also on ao3. check my “jess writes cs” tag for the rest.

“The Captain’s Cabin?”

Emma squinted up at the sign, covering her eyes to keep the morning light from turning her blind. It was a ridiculous name, if she said so herself. (Never mind that this was their first day in town, and she’d been the one to choose the place.)

“I don’t know about this,” she said, sliding her eyes back to the blonde girl at her side. “We could just get back in the car and find a nice, motel-side Arby’s.”

“We just spent five hours in the car, not counting the five minutes it took to find that parking spot, Emma,” Elsa whined, “If I don’t get to eat whatever it is I’m smelling right now, I think I might cry.”

Emma ceded, but only because the smell of fried seafood was calling to her too.

The two of them stepped out of the misty morning and into the little dockside restaurant, Emma shaking her hair out of her hooded anorak jacket and Elsa flinging her braid back over her shoulder. The lunch crowd was still milling about, mostly older citizens and young parents, and the two were only too happy to take their time finding seats. The walls were stained dark, as if the warm drizzle outside had penetrated the wood, and covered in weather-worn treasures that undoubtedly came from the nearby sea. One side of the small building stood on ground level, but the other seemed to stretch out toward the water. It was nice, Emma had to admit, nicer than the dorky sign on the front had led on.

The two of them chose seats at the end of the long bar, despite all earlier protests about sitting for any prolonged periods (ever again, Elsa had promised, one foot up on the dashboard and the other hanging out the passenger window.) Elsa busied herself tracing the faces of old sailors and fisherman pictured on the walls, while Emma watched the tide coming in.

It hardly looked pleasant out, but she was certain those little black blobs in the distance were boats. She ran her hand over the windowpane to get a clearer view and squinted again, trying to figure out exactly what kind of vessels had caught her attention.

“Can I help the both of you?”

Emma swiveled on the little barstool and found herself eye-level with a toothy, if welcoming, grin. The man was standing on the other side of the bar, his black shirt emblazoned with the same logo from the sign outside the restaurant. She had no idea how he snuck up on her like that, but Elsa answered him before she could voice her question back.

“You definitely can. We’ve been in the car for far too long, and we need food.”

“I’ll have to see if we’ve got any laying around, then,” he said with a bit of a laugh, seeming to relax into his smile as he regarded Emma more thoroughly. "Where are you traveling from?”

“Boston,” the both of them answered, tiredness coming through in Emma’s voice and restlessness coming through in Elsa’s.

He clicked his tongue and handed both of them menus, leaning a hip against the bar as he played with one of the bottles on the counter top. “Quite a long ways away, but at least you chose a beautiful day to come up. It’s not always this nice out.”

“You call this nice?” Emma chuckled, wrinkling her nose as she nodded toward the window. “It’s about to rain.” “On the contrary, lass. I’d reckon the sun’ll be out before you’ve finished your meal.” His smile was challenging her now, as if he was about to reach out into the air and ask her to shake on it.

“Speaking of,” Elsa said, swiveling her menu toward him and pointing at a dish. “Can I get this with curly fries?”

“There’s no way,” Emma said, shaking her head at the man. He was leaned over the counter, arms folded out in front of him. She thought she could see the beginnings of a tattoo on the inside of his arm but refused to inspect any further, knowing his eyes had been following her a little too closely already.

“Ah, but there is,” he sang out. “When you’ve lived here as long as I, you tend to get accustomed to the signs.”

"Nobody’s that good,” She pressed, crossing her arms in front of her. He’d been keeping them (well, keeping her,if Elsa’s less-than-subtle looks meant anything) company ever since they’d ordered a meal, and since then she’d come to know quite a bit about him. His name was Killian Jones, and it didn’t sound like an American name because it wasn’t. He and his brother had come over from the United Kingdom a few years ago and started up business here. They had a sailboat, of all things, moored out at the end of the restaurant’s dock, and that apparently gave him the ability to predict the weather. “You have to have checked an app, or something.”

He shook his head again, eyes sparkling as they regarded her. “I could show you, if you’d like,” he said, a bit of extra something in his voice as he made the offer. “Liam’s not quite done with your orders yet, and it won’t take long.”

Emma gave him a challenging look of her own, then, wondering just how many tourists got an invite out onto his sailboat while their meals were made ready. On the other hand, though, her legs weren’t nearly stretched enough after driving for so long, and she did like the idea of standing again.

“Oh, go do it,” Elsa said, tearing her straw wrapper into tiny little squares atop the bar. “I’ll wait here for when the food gets out.”

“See? She’ll wait here, for when the food gets out,” Killian said, sweeping his arm out toward Elsa and raising his brow at Emma. “Come on, Swan, don’t make a man beg.”

Again, Emma relented, but only because she would never hear the end of it from Elsa if she acted like going with him was a big deal.

“What made you pick Maine, of all places?”

They were both leaned against the rail of his sailboat (which was more than a little impressive, Emma grudgingly admitted. With something like this at her disposal, she’d probably spend a few cloudy days on the water, too) and watching the little town ferry pick up passengers from the neighboring dock. It’d made three trips since they came outside,  passengers snapping pictures and laughing at the sea spray when they passed over particularly large curls of wake.

“I could ask you the same,” he countered, twisting his neck to regard her. She didn’t remember him coming to stand so close, exactly, but then the past twenty minutes had gone by without her thinking of a single excuse to run back to Elsa. (It definitely had nothing to do with the way he seemed to talk about the sea like it was his first love, that was certain.)

“It’s different,” she told him with a small laugh. “We’re not moving in.”

“We didn’t think we were either, to be honest. Liam and I had plans to sail up and down the coast, to pack up every time we thought we were getting too rooted down.”

“Guess that worked out for the two of you,” Emma countered, nodding back toward the restaurant. “Big change of plans?”

“You could say that.” His smile turned wistful then, almost dreamlike, and Emma found herself watching him as he turned his eyes back to the sea. She couldn’t tell if it was the way the sun was now warming their faces or simply the way he was born, but the ocean seemed pooled right there in his eyes, too. He turned to her then, catching her off guard once more with his closeness. “I’ll wager your food’s waiting for you now, love.”

Surprisingly reluctant to leave the peaceful, salty air out on the docks, Emma nodded, letting him lead her back inside. Most of the lunch rush had taken off by then, and it was almost too easy to hear her friend���s voice carrying through the restaurant as they stepped back through the doorway.

“- she’s not really my sister, even though she looks it, but we always take this big sisterly road trip in the spring to celebrate meeting each other. She pretends she hates long trips, but I know that - Emma!”

Emma’s eyes widened considerably as she saw her friend chatting up a dark-haired stranger, one whose head looked exactly like Killian’s from the angle she had on him. He turned then, a lighter shade of blue eyes meeting hers. He was wearing the same shirt as Killian, too, but all brotherly resemblance ended below eye level.

“You must be Emma,” the man said, straightening up off the barstool and reaching out a large, square hand. “Liam Jones, privilege to be at your services today.”

Emma could see Elsa’s bright eyes behind him, switching frantically between delight and panic. She had always been terrible at improvisation, especially when it came to someone she wanted to impress. Emma only smiled and shook his hand warmly, not missing the gigantic plate of curly fries that Elsa had placed between them. (She didn’t miss the look Liam gave to Killian, either, but she found herself wishing she’d seen it from Elsa’s perspective instead. As it was, he was standing too close to her for her to see.)

“Nice to meet you. Are you the one I need to thank for the sandwich waiting over at my seat?”

“I am, especially since my second-in-command was nowhere to be found,” Liam said pointedly, aiming his smirk at her instead of his brother this time. She managed not to blush, but there was no hiding the snort that came from Elsa at her seat.

Seeing the food on her plate reminded Emma of their reason for visiting, and she found herself lingering there long after her plate held nothing but crumbs, swapping travel stories with the two men who held the sea in their eyes. It was comfortable, just as much as her ride together with Elsa had been, and suddenly she found herself wondering what else they might have missed if they hadn’t pulled off the interstate to fuel up in the little seaside town.

(Elsa, for all her part, wasn’t even trying to be subtle as she offered Liam the last long curly fry on her plate, complaining when he told her it’d be ungentlemanly to take anything more from her plate than he already had. Her argument was that he’d made them, after all, and deserved to spend a little time savoring the dishes he made. They didn’t even notice it when Killian snuck the thing off her plate and ate it himself.)

“So,” Killian finally asks, stepping up to tackle the question they’d all been dancing around, “How long are the both of you in town?”

"Oh, we only planned on stopping for a few-” Emma felt the point of Elsa’s shoe dig into her shin then, effectively cutting her off before she could say anything drastic. Emma swiveled back and gave her just as deliberate and obvious a look, wondering what the hell had gotten into her.

“A few days. Maybe a week or two,” Elsa supplied, sipping at her water and refusing to meet Emma’s eyes. “We don’t really have to be back any time soon.”

Emma let it go after a moment, but only because she didn’t want that to be the last smile she saw on Killian Jones’ face.

[stormbreaker101]

whats corrupted spiral about? ive seen you post about it a few times! also on the topic of corruption - are any of your wizards likely to get corrupted through magic or otherwise? 👀

It's kinda hard to explain what Corrupted Spiral is really about, because there are a bunch of PoVs and individual stories coming together in a web of narrative, but I can try explaining the very core of it

It takes place after Arc 3 but before Arc 4 can ever begin. Nora (our first protagonist) is frustrated that everyone only calls her by her epithets and titles. She believes that everyone sees her as Nothing but her deeds. So, in a fit of bitterness and driven by Sybil's prophecy, she lashes out. She attacks the Chaos Heart, destabilizing the Spiral and sending it into a state of destruction, then abandons the Spiral with her little sister Iridian.

Corrupted Spiral follows Nora and Iridian to their new home, a stranger they find on their way to settling down, the stranger's 'nephew' who somehow got involved in all this (it's complicated), and the people of the Spiral trying to save it from Nora's outburst.

As for your second question...

this post is getting long so i'mma put my answer to this under the cut.

I believe every character should be able to become corrupt if they're pushed too far or if their major flaw eclipses them. When you can write a reasonable line of logic that could lead to them going from hero to villain, you've got a nuanced character.

As for which characters are most likely...

Emma is a strong contender. She spends a long amount of time in the story vehemently disrespectful, because she believes that as a player of the game, she has more authority and control over the situation than the NPCs. She's frustrated by her teachers' insistence on patience and following the structure of the game though the Spiral has veered severely off-course from following Wizard101's plot, and has threatened multiple times that she'll go her own way and get the magic she needs to undo Nora's destruction.

And we all know what happened the last time a powerful Wizard ended up roaming the Spiral by herself for answers and power:

Flare is also very likely to become corrupt with power. His main ambition besides helping his new friends in the Spiral is to master all magic available in the universe. All.

Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely.

[crystalelemental]

Common Grid War: Act Final.  “But Jesse and James-” It’s been years, bro!  They’re not coming back!

I’m super sleepy and have been writing Unit Teambuilding things all day so let’s keep this one short.  Without a Gauntlet run, I have nothing to update with these rankings.  I’m just going to quickly talk the two new commons, MU Torchic and Lorelei.

Lorelei sucks ass, and she’s lucky she’s not in D-tier.  I’m giving her the benefit of the doubt solely on the potential of freeze chances, and that she might, MIGHT be able to serve as an off-tank in Gauntlet with double passive recovery.  I do not actually think she will accomplish anything but I love her too much to put her in F.  But it’s actually that bad.  Towering Force seems great until you realize she has to take serious damage for it to boost her defenses.  She needs to use it three times to cap special attack, wasting uses of Gradual Healing.  Sharp Entry isn’t getting her the crit she needs.  Realistically, you need defense, special attack, and crit support to help her along, but she’s also heavily reliant on Hail.  All this...for a sync nuke that won’t even matter because its primary condition is “foe is frozen,” which is borderline impossible to set up in the first place.  She didn’t even get Lodge Silver levels of freeze chance, getting the usual 30%.  Her move multipliers suck ass, being reliant on freeze, or a pitiful 10% for having Hail.  Her supportive tools are Endurance and Healing Hail, so even while tanking she’s entirely reliant on Hail.  Lorelei is capital-B Bad.  Unless we get some surprise that fits with her perfectly, Lorelei does not recover from this.  Girl needs an alt, and she needs it bad.

MU Torchic, by comparison, is sitting uncomfortably in S.  The buffing is tremendous, don’t get me wrong.  But there’s a reason only Roxanne sits in S as a support.  And it’s because Endurance is life-changing.  Torchic will not survive the onslaught of CS, while Roxanne can handle herself well even in the modern meta.  I’m going to play Torchic in S under the assumption that it can pull stuff off, as the only Special Attack/Crit buffer in the F2P pool.  But it’s on thin ice and I am willing to demote if it doesn’t pull its weight.  Still, Gradual Healing on trainer move is a very good sign for its Gauntlet performance, as is an approximate 70% burn chance.  We’ll see how it performs.

Surge is remaining where he’s at, on the grounds that I have no context for his EX performance.

[scabopolis]

Author Self-Interview

I’ve had this saved for 5-ever to do and am trying to get in the writing headspace again, so thought I’d try on my ‘am I an author? sure...why not...let’s go with that’ trousers. 

Fandoms: I’ve written the most fics for Veronica Mars (Logan/Veronica will always have my heart), and then Dan/Blair for my ‘we could have had it all’ fandom space. Also, have written for Amy/Jonah from Superstore (not posted on AO3), Nick/Jess from New Girl and probably my most precious - one Will/Angie fic from the gone and never forgotten show Single Parents. Oh! And Emma/Killian from OUaT. I’ve done CS Secret Santa two years in a row and it was a very good time. 

Most popular multi-chapter fic: If we’re going by kudos then my most popular fic in any fandom is my first Dan/Blair Wrapped in Ribbons; a fic I will always love but sometimes dream of fixing.

Favorite story you’ve written so far: I Know That Face is the first fic ever wrote and it brought @scandalpantsstuff into my life (not to mention every single Veronica Mars fandom friend I’ve made), so for that reason it will always hold a special place. In terms of writing, though? Probably charts and graphs (should finally make it clear) which is one of my Nick/Jess fics. It is the one I get the most positive comments for related to strong characterization and I could see each moment in my head as I wrote it. There’s about a million things in it I want to fix, but it was a big ‘win’ for me writing wise. 

Fic you were nervous to post: Probably both of my CS fics b/c that’s such a huge fandom, and I’ve seen some pretty vicious reader comments. BUT! The beauty of a large fandom (I’ve discovered) is that your work isn’t really discovered unless you’re a known quantity. Each of my CS fics have around 100 kudos, and the people I gifted them to seemed to like them, and that is all I need for satisfaction. 

How do you choose your titles: I go through phases. Right now I’m in a real “random throw away quip becomes a phrase I use in the fic multiple times and BOOM now it’s the title” headspace. But 7 out of 10 times it’s gonna be lyrics of some sort. Always proud of the titles that are somehow neither! (e.g. the gift of gab, the gift of you)

Do you outline: Yes. Though, not in a hugely structured way. My outlines are a mishmash of bullet points, snippets of dialogue (usually there is a specific moment of line of dialogue that becomes my entire impetus to write something) and then statements like “I don’t know, and then figure out what they’re going to do???!!!” because I find some things as I go. 

Next to Complete: That would be the still without a title VM Sleepover Fic for Jennie aka @thelillykane. (Jennie. Don’t laugh at me. I’m working on it!) 

Do you accept prompts: Not at this time. I have an inbox full of them mocking me. Most of them are @cubbiegirl and she’ll get her fics WHEN I AM GOOD AND READY TO GIVE THEM. 

Upcoming story you’re most excited to write about: I’ve started an outline for a Dan/Blair fic that goes AU after 5x15. Basically in this AU they make out at the Valentine’s party but never date. It takes place 6-7 years after that, and they’ve remained friends who kind of just make everyone miserable with their JUST BANG ALREADY energy. 

Anyway, they get into a dumb fight where Dan tells Blair she’s an elitist who wouldn’t last a month in Brooklyn w/o her maid and her freshly pressed dresses and she calls him a hypocrite who enjoys all the trappings of wealth but acts like he’s so above it and, actually, he wouldn’t survive her social schedule for a month. Which leads to them making a bet which requires Blair to move in with him in Brooklyn for a month, and for Dan to be her date at all her social events for a month. Serena and Nate watch the whole thing and are like “uh...Dan...you just dared Blair to live with you for a month.” “And...uh...Blair...did you just make Dan agree to date you for a month?” It shall be very silly and very tropey. But...that’s kinda my brand, so I’m good with it. 

Stories you’re most excited to read: @scandalpantsstuff. My ticket is booked. I am going to see you in 50 days. Are we drinking that bottle of wine? (Yes. This is a Haunted call out post.) Anything @best-laid-plaids teases. I NEED TO READ the final two chapters of @lorelailorelai‘s Dan/Blair fic. I’ve procrastinated because the first one about made me lose my mind in the best possible way and I know I will want to leave a long, sprawling review. 

No pressure tags: @cheshirecatstrut, @mysilverylining, @thelillykane, @shireness-says, @hollyethecurious, @thisonesatellite, @theawkwardterrier, @lavellenchanted. 

[talkingtea]

Can someone pleaaaase tell me why a Black man, Eric Wallace, as showrunner would use the "criminal justice system is unjust and needs reform" SL on a known unrepentant criminal like KF when the show has Black and PoC characters who in real life are the demographic affected by this topic? We even had one of the deadliest summer in 2020 because of law enforcement killing Black ppl. Did someone force Eric to use this SL for KF? We all know they ran out of ways to write for her, but things are aggravated by the fact that the actresses playing CS/KF is a known racist who targeted her Black Leading Lady with erasure. And to make matters worse, Jess the only Black woman writer they have co-wrote the epi. Is the Universe wanting these 2 Black ppl (Eric & Jess) to fail so bad? Eric was doing ok there until 7x06. This is too big a misstep to be forgiven and forgetten soon by many fans and he has a reputation to maintain as a good storyteller. I feel like I am hallucinating this self-inflicted injury situation with Eric after the way you can see he is been working hard to tell some good stuff for S7 and S8.

It is ridiculous. We don’t understand how ANYONE could think using Killer Frost’s guilty ass for this type of storyline was a good idea. Yes, there needs to be police reform but using a white woman who is guilty of MULTIPLE crimes, has never paid for any of them and thinks that just because she decided to be ‘good’ that she shouldn’t be punished to showcase that is about the dumbest shit ever.

[peculiarwem]

Previously on Disaster

So this is my make up post for the past 237 days. I didn't update but I was reading. I did much better on this front than with writing so Yay!

Biggest update that is a continuation of my last one, I dropped Guards! Guards!. Not bc I didn't want to read it. I just wasn't in the right headspace and also it wasn't the book I was actually told to start with so.

Since the last time I've updated and reviewed books, I've read: The Magic Fish by Tung Le Ngygen, Batman: Urban Legends 1-7 and 10, The Desolation of Devil's Acre by Ransom Riggs, Fence volume 1-4 by CS Pacat, The Vision Omnibus by Tom King, Nubia: Real One by LL McKinney and Robyn Smith, Poison Ivy: Thorns by Kody Keplinger and Sara Kiplin, Fangs by Sarah Andersen, The Miraculous by Jess Redman, Wonder Woman: Warbringer by Louise Simonson and Leigh Bardugo, Doom Patrol Vol 1 and 2, House of El: The Shadow Threat by Claudia Gray and Eric Zawadski, Nightwing Vol 1, Harley Quinn Vol 1, Robin vol 1, The United States of Captain America vol 1, Under the Moon: A Catwoman Tale by Lauren Myracle and Issac Goodhart, Squad by Maggie Tokuda-Hall and Lisa Sterle, America Chavez: Made in the USA vol 1, and Batman: Year One. Roughly 30 books 👍😬 I'll make posts for them. Probably grouped.

My main goal for 2022 and reading is to read fifty books again. I still love reading even if it takes some time or it's few and far between. I should definitely get through most of my physical books because I keep buying them and then not reading them. So Yeah. Thanks for Reading.

NEW GOALS:

Daily: 1634 and 1635 20 Jan 2022 and 21 Jan 2022

~ read

~ unpack my books.

[the-resurrection-3d]

F, G, H, and R for the ask meme :3

F: Share a snippet from one of your favourite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

I’ve been skimming back over “the hungry season” and wow I kinda popped off with this one, not gonna lie.  I’m putting this under a cut because it’s a longer excerpt: 

“What’s that?”

“They’re…” Luca scrunches his nose up. “They’re like two pieces of bread, but they look like this.” He makes Cs with his hands, and Alberto raises his brows. “And sometimes writers use them to put all these extra thoughts inside, like say you have all this leftover ham and cheese and you don’t know what else to do with it, so you make it into a sandwich. Did that make any sense?”

“Yes. Barely. Actually, I completely zoned out. But continue.”

“Well, anyway, the poem has a lot of extra sandwiches, so I had to read the part that wasn’t in the sandwich, and Giulia had to read the sandwiched parts.”

“You’re making me hungry again.”

“Alberto.”

“I’m kidding. Keep going.”

“Alright. We had to practice the poem a bunch because we had to perform it for class—"

“Did you pick it out, or did the teacher?”

“The teacher. She put us in pairs and then assigned everyone a poem so we could perform it in front of the class on Friday. And I dunno, I just really liked it a lot. It kind of reminded me of you. It starts out with ‘I carry your heart with me,’ and then Giulia would say, ‘I carry it in my heart.’ And it reminded me of what you told me at the train station. About how you’d be with me whenever I felt happy.”

(And above Luca’s bed those whole eight months was the drawing Alberto had made of them together, the paper soft with all its memories of being touched.)

I feel like this is just very vivid and realistic without defaulting back to either a) arguments or b) just recreating the types and structures of jokes my friends and I would make, which are my main modes of writing dialogue. It’s just a very soft fic and their banter helps accomplish that. 

G: Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

Hahaha, at this point I can’t even write mirco in order-- unless I crank out the entire fic in one go, then it’s been written out of order or significantly rearranged. I honestly do a good chunk of my writing just exploring images and vibes, not even having a real specific order in mind. 

H: How would you describe your style?

I’ve been getting a lot of people saying my style is very “raw” lately, which is very interesting to me. @eggscorpion awhile back, on a section from the Jonah essay, said that my writing is “almost visceral but graceful in some aspects” and “gritty when it has to be.” That’s where my mind immediately went -- in more technical terms, I think when I’m at my best, I find grace in slipping easily between straightforward and more poetic tones, and being blunt when I have to. I know I criticized myself in the last ask for not being subtle, but I think with certain subjects, that can sometimes be helpful in small doses. The Jonah essay is about me trying to find a reason not to kill myself. There’s only so much I can do to pretty that up, and frankly, I get tired of trying to twist depression and suicidal ideation into poetry (especially when that’s the kind of poetry that gets torn to shreds the most). 

R: Are there any writers (fanfic or otherwise) you consider an influence?

Amy Fusselman’s The Pharmacist’s Mate literally changed everything about how I approach writing, but I also look towards guys like David Shields, George Orwell, Tevis Thompson, Chuck Palahniuk, and Kurt Vonnegut. For non-creative writers, I’m of course indebted to Digibro, Endless Jess, Campster/Errant Signal, and a little bit of Yahtzee Croshaw. 

For fanfic, obsessmuch (Eden is still the best Stockholm Syndrome fic ever, argue with the wall), wikitiki99, sbj, Kali Cephirot’s “could not erase it,” and C.R. Martin’s “Calamity Hoppers” (holy fuck was that really ten fucking years ago) have all had a lasting impact on me, though some of them I haven’t revisited in awhile. I definitely feel like post-CNF me is a whole new writer, so it’s hard to pick many fanfic writers who I can say influenced this current era. I will say, however, that I’ve directly stolen techniques from both obsessmuch and Kali Cephirot for my original CNF. 

Thanks for the ask! 

[neopnewton]

WRITING SESSIONS AMERICA evasion of ONTARIO CALIFORNIA was LIT THIS WEEKEND !!!!! 🙏🏾😊🙏🏾✊🏾🎵🎼🎧👑 WE CAME , WE SAW , WE CONQUER, I was a Judge/Panelist for the “St George’s Showcase “ Hosted by @kuleaide Aide, my sister and member of Writing Sessions America, she was working the stage and crowd , good job sis! . We had a LIT WSA LA BDAY weekend/FAMILY GATHERING LITERALLY!!! It was an amazing experience of MUSIC, FELLOWSHIP & LEARNING each other #wsasquadup2021 Showed Up and SHOWED OUT MAJOR SHOUT TO MY BROTHER @phileproductions Co - producers/Music Director of the show bringing me out & Making this WSA get away special… WE ALL EXPERIENCED A WOW MOMENT WHEN TEN (@tenmusicpage ) TOOK THE STAGE , the vintage soul queen did her thing ….WE HAD SO MUCH FUN thanks Jess @rabbslane and @dawndaniellemusic for your uncredible TEAM WORK COLLABORATION AND COORDINATION of the whole BDAY weekend … oh well ..it’s back to ATL …Home 🥰#POWERMOVES2021 #singersongwriters #songwriters #rappers, #Artists #singers #musicengineers #musicproducers #agents #talentscouts #A&R #musicsupervisor #LiveMusic Follow @WritingSessionsAmerica Follow @Kevinmusic.thefirm JOIN THE FAMILY - 🎶🎵🎧🎼✊🏾👑 🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾 (at Philadelphia, Pennsylvania) https://www.instagram.com/p/CS-LtnrHeKq/?utm_medium=tumblr

[sunsetcurveofficial]

fics by yours truly

sometimes i write. you can find me on ao3 here. this is a list of all my most relevant fics. there are some ouat/cs and doctor who/tenrose ones to be found on my ao3 as well, though. 

Merlin/Merthur:

golden as i open my eyes

The Once and Future King shall unite the lands of Albion and bring magic back to the kingdom, they'd said. But then Arthur had died before any of that could come to pass and Merlin had to make the easy choice to bring him back by giving him half of his own remaining lifespan. Well, he might have miscalculated a bit. So there they were, on the verge of a golden age, and the possibilities suddenly seemed limitless. The story they were a part of had just taken a different turn.

Words: 16,404; Rating: M

Love, Merlin

Merlin and Arthur have been best friends since they were kids, but even though they’re inseparable, life always seems to be getting in their way, separating them against their will. Timing, fate, and life itself seem to have conspired against them and when it comes to love, there always seems to be someone else. Will they ever get their timing right and both realize that they were meant to be together since the beginning of time (quite literally), and that even across time and space, the bond they share can never be severed? A tale of magic, friendship, family, and a love that outlasts centuries.

(Love Rosie AU)

Words: 66,823; Rating: M

Dreams Don’t Turn To Dust

In a world where every person starts dreaming about their soulmate on the day of their 16th birthday, Prince Arthur is expected to be the soulmate of a beautiful princess. But when the big day finally rolls around, it turns out that his true soulmate is as far from a beautiful princess as one could get… a peasant boy with magic.

Words: 4221; Rating: T

Podfic read by me: [Podfic] Dreams Don't Turn To Dust

The Frog King

Arthur gets turned into a frog when he tries to protect Merlin from Morgana, and there’s only one way to reverse the spell.

Words: 3105; Rating: T

Sleepyhead

Merlin has a habit of falling asleep after sex and Arthur loves teasing him for it. That is, until a very sleepy Merlin accidentally proposes to him one night… or does he?

Words: 1874; Rating: M

Of Bumbling Fools and Awkward Nights

At the end of the day real life just wasn’t like the movies, and it wasn’t like fancy novels loved to describe it.

In which Merlin is clumsy, Arthur farts, and their first night together just isn’t quite like either of them expected.

Words: 2245; Rating: M

Worth It

Sometimes Merlin thought about that first night in the pub, when he’d been sure that putting up with Arthur Pendragon wasn’t worth any possible benefit that might come from it at all. Looking at the wide and shining smile in front of him now, he knew it had been worth it after all; all of it.

Words: 2921; Rating: T

With All My Heart And Soul

Arthur couldn’t believe that it had taken him an awful lot of alcohol on multiple occasions to finally get to this point. Well, that, and a firm kick in the arse by Gwaine, who probably had planned it all out all along and was smirking smugly to himself now.

Words: 8112; Rating: M

Nothing but the Truth

After almost eight years of being Arthur’s manservant and friend, Merlin was pretty certain that he’d seen almost everything and that nothing could truly surprise him anymore. Goblins, trolls, love spells, donkeys - he’d seen it all. But nothing could have prepared him for this: Arthur under the influence of a truth serum that showed them all just how much the king liked to keep to himself. Usually.

Words: 7363; Rating: T

Harry Potter/Drarry:

Antidote 

Harry and Draco are ex-bandmates, formerly the two most popular members of the world's most successful boyband of their time, Diagon Alley. What nobody knows? They are also ex-lovers, who haven't seen each other in 3 years, ever since Draco left the band. Unknowingly, they've been invited to the same event, where they inevitably run into each other and both realise that they're far from over that thing they had. Turns out that you can only run for so long until you run out of breath and that every secret has a habit of coming out eventually.

Words: about 37k when it’s complete; Rating: M

High on Our History

Sometimes a single decision can change your whole history. Sometimes a simple question and a little bit of insistence can make all the difference. Sometimes all you need is someone who thinks you deserve a second chance. 

Draco nearly crumbles under the weight of the Dark Mark and the task he has been given. It’s like a constant weight on his shoulders that just would not let him breathe, would not budge, no matter how hard he tries. But there is another constant during his horrendous sixth year at Hogwarts, always around a corner, always watching: Potter. And Potter seems hellbent on saving him.

Words: 72,736; Rating: M

Gilmore Girls/Literati: 

Nice Little Place in the Stars

“Oh my god,” Lorelai announced as she put down the new chapter of Rory’s manuscript. Rory frowned at her, eyebrows raised in question. “You’re still in love with him. You realize that, don't you, honey? You’re still in love with Jess.” Rory sunk back into her chair as the realisation dawned on her that Lorelai was right. She’d known, deep down, but having her mother confront her like that with the truth… 

“Oh my god!” She jumped up, her hands nervously rubbing over her growing belly as she started pacing. “Oh my god! I’m in love with Jess! I love Jess. I’m still in love with him.”

Words: 10,579; Rating: T

more to come and be added soon <3 

[caltropspress]

FEEDBACK LOOP #1: Armand Hammer’s “Flavor Flav”

What are the Black purposes of space travel?

—Amiri Baraka, “Technology & Ethos”

Black futurism is a temporally troubled matrix Black futurism is a temporally troubled matrix that thrives on opposites and oppositions, flowing lines and nonlinearity, conflict resolution and asymmetrical warfare. It prefers the mad dash on shifting sands while in pursuit of higher ground and safe havens.

—Greg Tate, “Kalahari Hopscotch, or Notes Toward a 20 Volume History of Black Science and Afrofuturism”

Welcome aboard our spaceship, it’s so nice to have you here. —Newcleus, “Space is the Place”

Who, constructing the house of himself or herself, not for a day but      for all times, sees races, eras, dates, generations, The past, the future, dwelling there, like space, inseparable together. —Walt Whitman

I’m so tired of being forced to promote the myth of white supremacy by performing works by old white men like Whitman who said blacks...didn’t have a place in the future of America. —Timothy McNair

Today is the shadow of tomorrow, today is the future present of yesterday, yesterday is the shadow of today. —Sun Ra, “Secrets of the Sun”

This highly allusive track from billy woods and ELUCID toys with itself—that is, allusions are a figurative means of collapsing time in and of themselves. Past and present history & culture don’t contend so much as support one another. A set of stilts to do the Dance of Death on, if you will. “Start downhill running.” The Seventh Seal hilltop silhouette danse macabre steez, though. The whooshing, metal-creaking beat—with all its haunted psithurism charm—is the backdrop for this sleeper Shrines track.

The name “Flavor Flav” is used metonymically here to mean time. This isn’t a braggadocio, low-key threat in the spirit of OC’s “Time’s Up.” This isn’t a Grandmaster Flashian “You Know What Time It Is” (though the hands on the clock tower do spin clockwise and counter-). Neither is this a Kool Moe Dee-esque rhetorical “Do You Know What Time It Is?” Armand Hammer are frustrated by time, by the “ideals and dreams that don’t work.” woods laments his “time machine [that] don’t go backwards.” This no-good lemon of a H.G. Wells contraption he’s steering. This isn’t some Christopher Lloyd-cum-El-Producto Delorean. There’s no Great Scotting going on, just stubbornness.

Progress isn’t made. Time stagnates. Like the “list of ill-fated quick licks under ’frigerator magnets.” And that “school trip permission slip”—likely a bus ride to a museum: a carefully curated collection of artifacts, most notable for its colonial muscling. The question remains: What is left out? What is excluded? What is ignored, discarded, or co-opted so as to not withstand the test of time? woods’ short-i assonance speeds the delivery up only to slow it down:

list | ill | quick | licks | ’frig | nets | trip | mis | slip | lick | split | skin | spliff

billy woods, son of a revolutionary, redefines Afrofuturism (re-re-re-defines—its brilliance is in how it remakes itself unconditionally). Afrofuturism becomes about birthing the next generation of Black revolutionaries, so he subverts the line and expectations when “big hand captured” refers to the clock, but “little man [not hand] chasin’” refers to a youngin. (Try to keep up.) Put the faith in the youth when our “ideals and dreams” stall out—when the days, months, years are fleeting and forceful (“It do tick faster / The hour coming rough”). The spliff that’s “[skinned] like an onion” turns the cypher into Perrault fairy tale “pumpkin,” Cinderella style.

“Don’t come ’round with that ‘Go slow’” is in conversation with Nina Simone’s “Mississippi Goddam,” of course. It’s Nina who said “[she] can’t stand the pressure much longer,” who objected to those who “keep on saying ‘Go slow,” who had her band ironically chanting Do it slow. billy woods, like Nina Simone, decries reformism, incrementalism. Don’t do things gradually. We’re at the point where Nina stands up from her piano bench and shouts That’s it!

Forego the telephoto lenses, he insists, this is the “Battle of Algiers with the GoPro.” Urban guerrilla warfare uploaded and disseminated via YouTube. Again, time collapses. The struggle to decolonize continues. Watch for the This video is no longer available dead-end.

billy woods’ Nietzschean “loathing and fear” reverses the hallucinogenic time-warp of Thompson’s (and, in filmic relation, Gilliam’s) Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. “History is hard to know,” Thompson writes, “because of all the hired bullshit, but even without being sure of ‘history’ it seems entirely reasonable to think that every now and then the energy of a whole generation comes to a head in a long fine flash.” That flash will reappear in ELUCID’s verse.

If “all roads lead to Rome,” we’re settling into the inevitability of our moves. It’s a fatalistic shrug, but homophonically, all roads lead to roam—that is, the journey is prolonged interminably. It’s nomadic. Much static. So, naturally, you’re going to “[shake] the hourglass like a snowglobe,” distort time, and splurge on the “JC Penny Timex,” which is appropriately “flooded with rhinestones.” Flooded, because no more water: the fire next time. Don’t “lose track” and don’t “get trapped in the future.”

The chorus quotes the Rolling Stones’ “Time is On My Side,” but it ain’t that simple, no. The history is as messy as we’ve come to expect amerikan music to be. “Time is On My Side” was originally penned by Norman Meade (Jerry Ragovoy), and trombonist Kai Winding first recorded it. Jimmy Norman, a Black songwriter, fleshed out the lyrics significantly, and Irma Thomas recorded that version in the same year as the Stones. The song followed a path similar to that of “Strange Fruit”—a composition written by a white Jewish man under a pseudonym (Abel Meeropol as Lewis Allan) but popularized by a Black female jazz singer (Billie Holiday). As author Jess Row has said about jazz—hip-hop applies, too—it is “by its very nature multi-racial, intermingled, and collaborative across color lines.” But this cognizance must always be contextualized with views of Black artists like that of Art Blakey: “the only way the Caucasian musician can swing is from a rope.” Hip-hop has always had its Paul Cs and Rick Rubins, but the racial heterogeneity of a genre, or even a single recording, can’t cloak the power dynamics still in play. The Stones’ version of “Time is On My Side”—undoubtedly the most popular version—is a rip-off of Irma Thomas’ version. Mick Jagger even jacks Thomas’ ad-libs, which is to say, her rawness and spontaneity. Even the band’s shadowed faces on the cover of 12 x 5, the album on which the track appears, suggest the racial problematics, the minstrelsy heist. Armand Hammer mock the British Invasion blues filchers by adding “they” to the chorus line: “They said time is on my side.” They being white institutions (especially within music publishing, production, and recording industries) who promised enough airtime for everyone. They who urged patience. (Go slow!) But, as history shows, the profits only lined certain pockets.

ELUCID begins at the “golden hour,” which is both the photogenic beauty of the sky after sunrise and before sunset—a beauty too good to behold. It’s the sun glare shining in your face on the winter commute from work. It’s your high-speed accident and then the golden hour is the paramedics and doctors trying to salvage your corporeal existence. ELUCID’s verse is a hypnagogic jerk, gasping for breath as he takes a “portal to Orangeburg, ’68.” It’s a reference to the campus shooting of young people in protest—South Carolina State University. Unlike Kent State, which came afterwards, Orangeburg didn’t get the attention keening white women in Pulitzer Prize-winning photographs do, despite “live ammunition,” three dead, 28 injured, and “nine acquitted assassins.” Unnoticed. Black invisibility. Not that H.G. Wells type of invisibility—the Ralph Ellison kind.

We’re told what this is: it’s the aggregate stress (“the load of the allostatic”) of Black life. It’s one’s personal Extinction Agenda, the “post-traumatic” of the gunfire “flashes” that double as flashbacks. The pain, stress, the brain that can’t rest, the pressure on the chest.

“The center won’t hold” lets us know this isn’t all PTSD reverie—it’s a rebel poem: surely some revolution is at hand. ELUCID channels Achebe channeling Yeats. Things might fall apart but not without struggle. The “Flavor Flav clock spins centrifugal,” as a gyre, as an apocalyptic (91…) voice. Turning and returning. The words have an air of insurrection, proclamation.

He misses “watching how a flat circle fold”—it won’t budge, won’t wrinkle. We’ve been here before: on “Hunter,” on Paraffin, when billy woods was on that “time is a flat circle” shit. That Nietzsche eternal recurrence shit:

What, if some day or night a demon were to steal after you into your loneliest loneliness and say to you: “This life as you now live it and have lived it, you will have to live once more and innumerable times more; and there will be nothing new in it, but every pain…will return to you. […] The eternal hourglass of existence is turned upside down again and again, and you with it, speck of dust!

“Can you find the level of difficulty in this?” suggests game playing, arcades. Calls to mind more Walter Benjamin’s Arcades, though. billy woods and ELUCID are gleaners and magpies of cultural cadavers in Benjamin’s way. Their bars are play and critique both. We’re left with a modicum of optimism at the song’s end. Even “only [moving] the pen six inches” is something, is struggle. The “pale faces beyond the fire” are ever-present, though. The “flinching, panic, [and] confusion” are committed to continue.

Is it the fool or the insurgent who thinks time is on their side? We want the life we live to be “more brilliant than a sunbeam.” That’s to say, we don’t want to wait for the golden hour or the golden years. We want what they say we can’t have. We want what they say we shouldn’t imagine. But Armand Hammer helps us take solace in the “drum skin stretched”—the rhythm, the rebel. The oft-quoted Douglass gem, If there is no struggle, there is no progress, is played out for a reason. The reason is because it needs to be played again, and again. Like a mantra, like a song.

Images:

Sun Ra’s Space is the Place (screenshot) | Flavor Flav (detail), courtesy of archivist Sean Stewart | Grandmaster Flash “You Know What Time It Is” music video (screenshot) | Kool Moe Dee “Do You Know What Time It Is?” single cover | Nina Simone live at Antibes Juan-les-Pins Jazz Festival 1965 (screenshot) | The Battle of Algiers (screenshot) | The Rolling Stones 12 x 5 album cover | Flavor Flav, courtesy of Stewart

[icevvitch]

CS here, sorry to bother you but I’m wondering how my request is coming along, all this covid stuff is raising my anxiety and I need something to else to focus on (Uve already reread all your fics three times)

Hi CS! Unfortunately I haven’t been able to write much because I’m also dealing with anxiety linked to the current pandemic. As it states in my rules, anon requests and asks may be answered with less frequency as threads and mutual interactions. Right now I just don’t have the energy to write much besides things that directly aid my mood, which angst/chronic illness Winter sadly will not in light of current events. 

Thank you so much for your support, as always, I hope you can wait patiently for me to be able to fulfill your request. And I also hope you and your loved ones are doing well in this troubled time. 

Jess

[nightships]

CS Secret Santa 2k17: Thawing Out

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone, but ESPECIALLY to my CS Secret Santa, @delightfully-difficult-pirate! I hope you enjoy this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it, and it was so nice getting to know someone new in the fandom! Please excuse my formatting, I had to post mobile!

“You were right,” Elsa says, the hem of her gown swishing softly as she rounds the corner from the kitchen to the living room. “That machine wasn’t very hard to figure out.”

“Thank you.” Emma unearths a hand from her blankets to accept a steaming mug of coffee from her newest friend, setting it atop the quilt covering her knee. She’s long since traded the lounger chair for a seat on the couch, but her muscles are sore now that her nerves are thawing out.

She tries to say more, but just the breath draws up a cough. The cold had scratched rawness into her throat, drying and chilling all it could reach. The back of her hands still feel like ice as her body warms from her core to her extremities — even she can admit she’ll be out of commission for a day or two. Emma takes a swig from the mug to stifle her cough, and the next noise from her is one of surprise. Whatever Elsa’s made her, it does not taste like Swiss Miss.

“Did you put something in this?”

Elsa’s cheeks faintly color. “My sister and I love to drink hot cocoa when it’s cold. It’s not Arendelle chocolate, but I tried my best.”

“It’s incredible.” The smell wafting up from the mug is rich, like the whole thing is filled with melted chocolate. It’s ridiculous that Elsa looks unsure, even if she understands the apology behind the offering. Emma nearly manages to ask about the sister she’s looking for when Henry comes tumbling back down the stairs, pajama-clad and towing the quilt off his own bed.

“I promise you, kid, I have enough,” she chuckles, fighting back another cough.

“I brought it down for me,” he tells her, pretending it was his plan all along. He seems intent on sleeping at her side for the night, and she doesn’t quite have it in her to tell him no — especially since he’s not the only one.

Save for taking off his own boots and following her to the couch, Killian has yet to leave her side. At first he’d knelt next to the chair, watching nervously as her mother and father warmed her with blankets and an electric heater. He’d hung back quietly while the rest of them debated calling Doctor Whale, the quiet brush of his thumb against her hand the only reminder he was even in the room.

Slowly, feeling returned to her fingertips and toes, and somewhere along the way she’d ended up here — Killian’s arm around the three layers of blanket surrounding her shoulders and the rest of her family filling the room.

It was a little overwhelming, the way each of them kept trying to find ways to take care of her. If it wasn’t the mug of cocoa it was an extra layer of socks on her feet. If it wasn’t the socks, it was her father adjusting the angle of the electric heater every five minutes.

She can feel the rumble of another small laugh in his chest when her mother gets up in search of another pillow for her. It’s the least serious noise he’s made since they got back, which is another good sign, but it doesn’t lessen her own annoyance.

“Think Elsa would mind freezing anyone else?” she mutters, watching Henry wrestle his own quilt as he folds himself into the chair.

“It might not hurt to ask.” He turns and considers her, clearly glad that her family is all she has to complain about. There’s still a fair amount of relief in his eyes, but there’s tenderness too, a softness that matches the gentle weight of his hook brace on her knee. It remains long after her family manages to calm down and divert their focus toward settling Elsa up for the night.

Granny’s more than willing to take a new resident without causing a commotion. Her parents take her, along with a few hastily grabbed clothes from Emma’s room, and for a while everything in the loft is entirely quiet. Henry’s long since fallen victim to the combination of his own cocoa and blanket. The hiss from the electric heater and the quiet snores from her son are all she hears, and for the first time she almost feels warm. Emma lets herself daydream, thoughts wandering until a particularly amusing one tugs at the corner of her mouth.

“We’ve got to get you something with a higher collar.”

“Pardon, Swan?” Killian answers, sounding half-asleep himself. Without the flurry of her parents and Elsa around them he’s relaxed against the back of the couch. If it weren’t for all the black leather, he’d look perfectly at home.

“I know the cold doesn’t bother Elsa, but the rest of us have to buy coats.”

“I have a coat,” he insists, a little stubbornness working its way into his voice. He sounds like Henry does when she wakes him up for school, and suddenly it’s hard not to picture him here, especially knowing he traded away his own home to bring her back to hers.

“Does it actually keep you warm?” she counters.

“Neverland had a decidedly warm climate, love. Besides,” he shifts, fiddling with a lock of her hair that’s come free of the blankets, “I’m far from cold at the moment.”

A whisper of a smile makes its way across his mouth, and she can’t help but agree. She can feel the warmth in his thumb as it brushes her jawline, in his eyes as they follow the motion and linger on her lips, in the soft anticipation building in her stomach as she watches to see what he’ll do.

Her father picks that moment to walk through the door, and then its the warmth of embarrassment coloring the tips of Killian’s ears pink that she lingers on. Mary Margaret gently wakes Henry, nudging him up toward his room, but David’s concern is laser-focused on her.

“I think it might be best if we all got to sleep,” he says pointedly, nodding up the stairs. “Emma, I can help you up the stairs if you need it.”

Killian takes the hint, squeezing her shoulder before moving to stand. He reaches toward his boots, seemingly intent on putting them back on, and Mary Margaret nudges her husband in the small of his back, a not-so-subtle hint of her own.

“Killian,” David relents with a long-suffering sigh, as if they’ve been arguing about this on the entire trip back from dropping Elsa off, “We’ve got an extra pillow or two if you want the couch for tonight.”

“I’m sure Granny has a bed to spare, mate, but thank you.”

“It’s the least we can do,” Mary Margaret insists, laying her hand on David’s shoulder before he can accept Killian’s reply. “We insist.”

Killian turns to see how Emma feels, whether it’s too much, but he only catches her smirking in amusement at her father’s dubious expression. It’s the quiet joke between them, the shared connection she’s only beginning to let herself explore, that has her memorizing his answering nod for a moment when she’s alone in her bed.

“All right,” he answers softly, setting his boots back down. “If you insist.”

Snow, real snow, falls softly on the windowsill in the morning when Emma awakes. Soft voices filter up from the kitchen, along with the smell of honey and syrup, and she realizes she’s almost swelteringly warm. Someone — she’s not sure which of her parents are to blame — set another heavy blanket over her as she slept, and it’s more than done its job.

Her legs are sore when she swings them out to set her feet on the floor, but they hold steady, carrying her down the stairs. Henry and Killian are at work in the kitchen, the younger flipping a pair of pancakes on the griddle as the older frowns at the coffee machine.

“The light keeps flashing. It’s not pouring the water out.”

“You’ve got to push it down at the top, like this,” Henry instructs, leaving the spatula behind. He’s genuinely patient with the pirate, which is its own source of amusement as she moves closer.

“The bloody Ice Queen got it to work,” Killian grumbles, stepping away to give Henry room.

“Maybe she used her magic,” Henry suggests, pushing the mug beneath the dispenser just as hot water begins to pour out. He notices her when he turns back to look at his pancakes and lets out a loud groan of disappointment at her presence, even as he steps forward to hug her.

“Good morning to you too, kid,” she laughs, tucking her arm around his shoulder.

“We were gonna surprise you with breakfast,” he explains, sighing heavily. “You weren’t supposed to wake up yet.”

“It smells too good. I couldn’t stay asleep.” She catches Killian’s eye, taking in the softness a night’s sleep has laid on his face, and just like before, it feels right. He fits in perfectly amidst her mom’s kitchenware and her son’s bedhead.

“Morning, love,” he smiles, not even pretending he’s disappointed. “Are you hungry?”

“I guess I’d better be,” she replies, looking at the formidable stack of pancakes they’ve already made. “Weren’t you two tired?”

“I woke up and came down here and Killian was already awake. I knew he didn’t know where we kept the cereal or the bowls, but he asked me if I was hungry, too, and then he said we should make everyone breakfast!”

“It was the least I could do,” he admits, echoing her mom’s words from the night before. Killian reaches behind him and holds the steaming mug out for her, stepping closer so she doesn’t have to cross the kitchen to speak to him. As far as either of them can tell, David and Mary Margaret are still asleep across the loft.

“Thanks for helping him,” she tells him, slipping her hand over his rather than simply taking the mug from him. She leans in and presses a soft kiss to his cheek while Henry’s distracted with plating more pancakes, and then she tugs him over to sit at the countertop.

Henry insists they make breakfast a big affair, going so far as to lament the fact that Elsa couldn’t join them. If her father feels uncertain about having Killian at the counter with them, he doesn’t say a word. It’s about the closest thing to normal that they’ve ever had in Storybrooke. With her family surrounding her and Killian’s foot nudging hers every so often, she eats slowly, letting herself hope it’ll last.

For the first time in a while, she has a good feeling that it will.

[hollenius]

I was tagged by @callmcgills so here we go!

RULES: post 10 random facts about yourself, then tag 10 people to do the same. (I’m not tagging anyone because I don’t want to put anyone on the spot, but feel free to do it if you want to!)

My top 3 most-beloved films of all time are Animal Crackers (1930, with the Marx Bros), The Producers (1967, with Zero Mostel & Gene Wilder, wr/dir Mel Brooks) , and The Manchurian Candidate (1962, with Frank Sinatra & Angela Lansbury, dir. John Frankenheimer). Number #3 used to be Monty Python & the Holy Grail, and it still has a very special place in my heart, but I think Manchurian Candidate has gradually edged it out over the years

I’ve never acted/danced/sang in a play/musical, but I’ve been in a lot of pit bands, and I’ve performed onstage in a lot of other musical ensembles in various places at various points in time. 

I’ve had a college radio show for the past 8 years or so. It’s a 50-50 split between (mostly) 1920s/30s jazz/pop and freeform (which is mostly various rock and pop genres from the 60s to the present, but encompasses everything from showtunes to bluegrass to renaissance motets). You can listen to it here.

I'm currently working on writing a book about the Phil Ochs album Pleasures of the Harbor for the 33 1/3 book series. (My proposal will probably never get selected, but I CAN DREAM, CAN’T I?)

I wanted to take up falconry when I was ten or eleven years old because I loved birds of prey. (I would still like to someday, but it’s a big time and financial commitment, and it pretty much requires that you live in a rural area.)

Based on my interests and hobbies, people tend to assume I studied history or music formally, but my bachelor’s degree is a double-major in biology and psychology (with a minor in Japanese that I forgot to declare before graduation), and my master’s degree is in library science. I literally only majored in biology because of the pressure everyone gets to major in STEM fields, but I did get to spend half of my senior year observing fruit bats at the zoo, so it wasn’t all bad. (Organic chemistry is terrible though--chemistry and physics and calculus destroyed my GPA.)

Speaking of my GPA...I didn’t care at all about school growing up, and almost never did projects or homework or anything. I got in trouble pretty much every day in 2nd grade because I never paid attention in class. (I recall spending a lot of recesses indoors as “punishment”, except that I didn’t like recess, so it was a bad way of punishing me.) When I started middle school, I spontaneously decided that I had to be perfect. I got my first B in 7th grade and cried. I don’t think I got another one until I got to college, where I got my first C (calc II!) and then MORE Cs and then a D (Ochem II!), so at this point I became somewhat desensitized to failure. (Until I went to grad school and got to be angry all over again about getting an A-...)

I overwhelmingly prefer cats to dogs, but I love Irish Wolfhounds because they’re giant and calm. (I also liked my childhood piano teacher’s bichon frises, named Stan & Ollie.) 

I'm a fairly regular theatregoer, when I have the time/money. I’ve got tickets to see Bryan Cranston in “Network” in April, but he’ll actually be the third Breaking Bad/Better Call Saul-related person I’ve seen onstage, after Adam Godley in “From Morning To Midnight” & Michael McKean in “The True”. (Edie Falco was in that one too, & she was great!)

I own an embarrassing number of woodwind instruments (four clarinets, three saxophones). I also have two banjos and can’t play either of them.