#something new snippet

[indiaalphawhiskey]

⚡️Something New Snippet

If one absolutely had to wake up, Louis reasoned, it might as well be to…

He paused, taking a subtle whiff.

…Freshly scrambled eggs, he realized, delighted. (Wait, he had eggs? Fresh ones? In his apartment?)

He frowned thoughtfully only for a roguish smile to take over immediately after.

Clearly, whatever Omega he had picked up and brought to bed last night had a great time.

It was an uncharacteristically caddish thought and had Louis been fully awake, he would have, at least, had the decency to be embarrassed by it. But, he was only human, and really wasn’t his best or most progressive self this early in the morning. Right now, all he could process was the immense pride his Alpha felt at satisfying last night’s (admittedly strangely elusive) conquest to the point of having earned breakfast, and that very same Alpha’s need to bask in his victory lap for as long as he could before his one night stand made his inevitable exit. (Romantic.)

And so, he blinked his eyes open, and where his next thought really should have been ‘Why the hell am I sleeping on my couch?’, instead it was simply…

Legs.

For.

Fucking.

Days.

They were smooth, and lean, and perfectly toned, the sinewy muscles flexing and releasing with each minute step to-and-fro as their owner fussed over the stovetop expertly. More importantly though, they were the kind of legs Louis was utterly convinced he would remember – rather vividly, in fact – had they ever been wrapped around him and/or worn as a hat (‘And’, preferably).

It was disconcerting that he had to exert any such effort in searching his memory at all, actually.

Easily top three, he thought to himself, allowing his awed gaze to ascend, slowly, appreciatively, and ever-so-slightly disrespectfully. Of my life, he amended, feeling as though he at least owed this person his full honesty, seeing as it seemed his manners were nowhere to be found.

“You’re awake.”

Two simple words, and yet the lilting voice that carried them was entirely sobering and really all Louis needed to piece yesterday’s events together, his earlier sleep-addled memory making a rather impressive comeback, just in time to save him from humiliating himself, any further. Almost involuntarily, his eyes averted themselves, choosing to stay glued to the bottom cabinet just to the left of Harry’s (apparently glorious) bare thighs.

“You can cook,” is what his mouth managed in response because, despite the already painfully long boot-up time, Louis still wasn’t fully in-charge of all his faculties. At least he had the audacity to seek eye contact. It felt decidedly less creepy.

Harry smirked as he turned back to the stove, moving the pan back and forth before reaching for something to his left.

It was nothing but a quick blink-and-you-missed-it bend, but it was just far enough for the familiar silk boxers he was wearing (Louis’) to ride upwards, which in turn had Louis regressing straight back into the gawking knothead he was not five minutes ago.

“Contents of your cupboards notwithstanding.”

[ddeck]

pains me that there's simply not enough info on star wars in-universe entertainment and pop culture for my liking. i want to know what star wars version of the godfather looks like. i wanna know what kind of space fanfiction a pantoran teenager would read, the kind of space tiktok edits they would make. i want to know the star wars equivalent for whatever the hell that is happening with ben affleck and matt damon. i want to see a coruscant news outlet publish an article with a headline "M'ett Sp'Amon not wearing a wedding ring again during another visit to Beng Spifflek's house. which could mean nothing"

[puddleslimewrites]

Red String of Fate

"You've got to be kidding me." Villain didn't have the energy to muster any emotion as they expressed their disbelief. At least the hero seemed just as distraught.

"This can't be happening."

Villain looked up from the red string tied around their pinky and rolled their eyes at the look of panic on Hero's face. "I'm not happy about this either, but there's no need to look like that." It would make things inconvenient, that's all. Soulmates or not, Villain had work to do.

"This can't be happening," Hero said again. Villain would have made another retort but paused when they noticed the other's breathing pick up.

"Hey," they said sharply. They were never good at calming people down but they got the hero's attention. "This doesn't change anything. Got it?"

Hero stared at them with wide eyes. Then, after too long a moment, nodded slowly. "R...Right." They just had to...ignore that their soulmate was a villain if they wanted to keep their job. That would work. That would be easy.

...Except for the fact that their string would be visible to everyone now. And if the villain was ever close it would pull them towards one another. Great. Fantastic even.

Hero knew what happened to thsoe who had villainous soulmates - they were either 'relieved' of their dutues for 'associating' with a public enemy or they left of their own accord. If any of their coworkers found out, they'd be screwed.

"Hey, Hero! What's the hold...up?"

Both the hero and the villain whipped around quickly as Hero's sidekick finally came to join them. Sidekick looked at the string, looked at Hero, then Villain, then back to Hero.

They were so screwed.

[jessieren]

A (small) Betrayal update…

Director is Julian Jarrold (did Kinky Boots movie, Brideshead Revisited and Witness for the Prosecution, amongst others..)

No additional cast reported as yet

Still due to start filming in June in Manchester (updated on 5 May so presumably accurate)

Really hoping I can find out where they’re filming and go and stake it out 😂😂

No news on hair but keeping everything crossed for at least this level of curls.. maybe with a black emo polo neck..

[wikiangela]

wip wednesday

thanks for all the tags for sunday and tuesday! <3

started yet another wip 🙈 I was watching oth and heard one line and got inspired lol so here's some bucktommy morning cuddles, and istg this one will be short and fluffy and hopefully done soon 🤞 haha

___

“Where are you going?” Tommy mumbles sleepily, eyes still closed, a small frown creasing his forehead. Buck chuckles quietly and can’t resist leaving another kiss on Tommy’s lips. It’s honestly adorable how his big, strong, hot firefighter boyfriend, who’s always so cool and collected, can get so grumpy in the morning without cuddles. He’s sure no one would believe him if he told them, but he likes that – he’s the only person who gets Tommy like this, who knows him like this. The thought makes his heart race and stomach flip, feeling as excited as at the very beginning of their relationship.

“Well, I was gonna go make you breakfast and then wake you up.” Buck says, fingers running through Tommy’s tangled curls. “You can go back to sleep, baby, and I’ll be right back.” he whispers, one of his hands starts drawing mindless shapes on Tommy’s back.

“Mm, no.” Tommy just responds, burying his face in Buck’s neck.

“You don’t want breakfast in bed?”

“I want you in bed.” Tommy says stubbornly, punctuated by a soft kiss to Buck’s neck and his arm around Buck’s waist tightening.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @weewootruck @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @bidisasterevankinard @giddyupbuck @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @buddieswhvre @fortheloveofbuddie @daffi-990 @hoodie-buck @aroeddiediaz @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @tizniz @exhuastedpigeon @underwaterninja13 @spotsandsocks @hippolotamus @your-catfish-friend @diazsdimples @dangerpronebuddie @loveyouanyway @neverevan

[varpusvaras]

Beru found out about their new neighbour on a one pretty unremarkable day.

Owen was out that afternoon, gone to recycle some of the old machinery parts they had left after one of their perimeter sensors had finally been worn down by the increased storms. The desert was calm that day, thankfully, as Luke had started to become very restless from not getting to go outside in days.

Perhaps Beru should've realised that such restlessness was going to make Luke forget their usual rules, in his haste to get out of the house, as all of a sudden she noticed that the immediate area around the house was uncharacteristically quiet, and not full of noises made by little boy playing space battles.

She didn't, however, get too far in her searches, when there was a tall shadow casted onto the sand right next to hers.

"Excuse me-" The man didn't even get to finish what he was saying, when Beru had already reacher for the prybar in the toolbox and turned around, gripping it tightly and ready to strike.

The Suns were partially behind the man, obscuring his features momentarily from her. He was tall and broad-shouldered, standing straight with his head held high even in the heat of the day. On his arms he held Luke, who had his arms around the man's neck in a relaxed, loose grip.

That made her loosen up her grip from the prybar just a little. Luke had the gift of knowing when to trust people, even if sometimes that trust overextended itself a little. The man's hold of Luke was, however, also relaxed, which made him a bit more trustworthy to Beru.

The man bend down and placed Luke onto the ground, and by doing so, he gave his face enough shadow for Beru to see him better.

He looked young, if a bit weathered, with some lines already forming on his face, though Beru could tell that they were in places that usually got creased up when someone was constantly concerned about something. There was a long scar running down the side of his face, showing up starkly as the skin around it had tanned more recently. It was the thing that told Beru that the man had not spent too much time on the desert yet, despite his clothes having already been weathered as well, and his footing being even enough on the sand. His dark, curly hair looked like it had only now started to grow out of a very well-maintained shorter cut. Another sign of him being a newcomer.

Still, there was something familiar in him, something Beru couldn't quite place, and she wasn't quite sure if that should've made her relax more or be more suspicious of him.

The man looked at her. His dark eyes were just as weathered as the rest of him, but still kind.

Beru made her decision. She lowered the prybar, and let go of it with her other hand, grabbing at Luke instead.

The man's shoulders lowered a bit as well.

"Excuse me", he said. "I saw your nephew had gotten a bit far away from the house."

Beru looked down at Luke. He looked up at her, and gave her a bit of a sheepish smile.

"Yes", Beru said, and looked back up at the man. "Thank you."

The man nodded.

"No problem at all", he said to her, and then turned to speak to Luke. "Stay where you're supposed to. The desert is a dangerous place."

"But you were there by yourself as well", Luke piped up, not able to resist the urge to talk back just a little.

The man smiled at him. Beru though he had a rather nice smile, even if it was worn down as well. She wondered what kind of hardships he had gone through, out there in the Galaxy, to seem like he had been sanded down by a multiple of storms already.

"I've seen a lot of places that are worse than this, kid", the man said. "I'll be just fine."

He then nodded his head again at Beru, lifted the back of the dark blue cape he had draped over his shoulders over his head, turned around and walked into the desert without another word.

Beru watched him go, ever so slightly confused about the whole interaction. She only moved his eyes away when Luke tugged at her hand.

"Did you know him?" He asked. "I've never seen him before. Not here or in town."

Beru shook her head.

"No", she said. "Did he say anything to you?"

She had not had the mind to even ask the man his name. She looked back out in the desert. He had already disappeared somewhere beyond the dunes.

Luke shook his head.

"He did know you are my aunt", he said. "And not my mom."

True, Beru realised. He had called Luke her nephew, without any introductions.

She decided not to be too alarmed about that. There weren't a lot of people who lived in the area. Chances were that the man had just heard about them already, and remembered who lived in the house.

Still. Not a lot people lived in the area, and even less had any business around there either. On top of that, even though she was more than sure that she had never seen the man before, Beru thought he had looked awfully familiar in some way.

"He seemed nice", Luke said. "He felt nice."

"If you say so, my little sun", Beru said. "Your feelings are often very precise."

She decided not to tell Owen about the man that evening. He would've just gotten unnecessarily worried about it.

----

Beru saw a dark blue cape in the corner of her eye.

When she turned, it wasn't the man from the desert, even if she was sure it was the same cape, with the tattered edges and faded shoulders.

She did know the man wearing it, though. Ben seemed to feel her eyes on him, as he also turned to look at her, and very briefly nodded at her before he went back to dealing with a customer.

Beru thought about it as she went on her business, and she walked back by Ben's stall as she came back.

Ben was already packing up by then, and Beru saw that he had also made purchases, as he was tying some wares that Beru didn't believe he had brought all the way from his house to the town. At the top were a new bedroll, and a pair of boots that even from afar looked too big for Ben's feet.

Beru smiled, before turning away. It really seemed like Ben wasn't alone anymore. That was good.

[bookshelf-in-progress]

I want you guys to read this retelling so bad.

But first I gotta write it. And that takes so long.

[whichcouldmeannothing]

Girl, please write more suits fanfic. We are hungry 😔💗

anon.. this fills me with so much joy to hear from someone... i was so happy w golden w the daffodils!! im happy someone else enjoyed it too!!

my goal is to finish more things in writing this year but here are the plot summaries from the marvey fics i had planned two years ago, maybe ill write more of them if you guys are interested?

the summaries below the cut! hmu if you want any of them in a full fic!

the formula one one ----

Three years ago, Mike Ross looked at Harvey Specter with a challenge. 

This teenager looked up at him, bright blue eyes and mussed up hair. “I like to hang out with people who aren’t that good, you know, just to see how the other half lives.” And suddenly, the whole room fades out, and it’s just him and the kid. 

There’s a challenge here. Are you stupid enough to hang out with someone that inferior or will you wise up and do better? He would never take this from an absolute rookie, who’s here on a fluke. 

But he doesn’t break eye contact, like he’s evaluating Harvey’s intellect. 

The moment you stop taking up challenges and prove people wrong is the moment you should leave Formula One. 

“Alright, kid.” He says. He’s wearing the white, grey and red of a backmarker. By next year, this kid will win a race. He shakes the kid’s hand, and it feels like signing a contract. 

the devil wears prada one ----

“Mike Ross, I’m here for the new assistant position. Under Harvey Specter?” He holds tight to his messenger bag, and he bounces on his Converse. They don’t make a sound on the tiles. 

The girl only looks at him, rolls her eyes. 

“You won’t last a day.” She says, and her heels clack off on the floor. 

-

Mike Ross is smart. He couldn’t afford (Hell, he wouldn’t be let into a community challenge after what he’s done.) to finish university. But he could still be something worthwhile and lasting. 

So, what if he lies a little bit to get a job? 

It’s an assistant to some fashion guy, it won’t matter that much. 

Right?

the one where harvey is cursed to lose his voice ----

Against his better judgement, Harvey unmutes the call. 

Mike always did have a way to get to Harvey, like he was given a schematic to poke at Harvey’s Achilles Heel. He didn’t even know he had a weakness until Mike. 

“Oh.” The pause lingers. The surprise is evident. “Hi.” 

“You breathe really loud.” Well, he moved the phone right by his nose so Mike can hear him better. So, not to be childish but, duh. 

I like to remind you that I am still alive.

“Yeah, yeah.” The ambient sound fades, and Mike must be back in his apartment. Windows closed. House empty. “Wow, I haven’t heard from you in so long.”

Harvey hasn’t heard himself in so long too. If he spoke again, would his voice have changed? Permanently hoarse after weeks of disuse, or would it be the same timber he’s had for ten years? Maybe it’ll be shrill, reverting to a previous state, or maybe it’ll be completely unrecognisable. 

[leifyposting]

New Jarch celebration ask! If you were to write a modern (<-optional) AU inspired by your own life/hobby/passion/whatever activity you practice yourself, what would it be like? (This is meant to be Jean centered, but information about other characters are more than welcome too!)

fun fact about me is that i’m a marketer by trade but a journalist by training. so…

KoF newsroom au okay hear me out

jean is the managing editor of a failing newsroom. public trust in journalism is down. half her staff has left for more stable jobs in PR and marketing. her editor-in-chief is off on a sabbatical to barbatos-knows-where and keeps posting gorgeous beach pictures on his instagram story

she looks at the accounts and comes to the realization that they’re bleeding money. they’re running on a skeleton crew with no room for layoffs and she’s already slashed her print issues from 6/year to 4/year. if they don’t get subscriptions up by the end of the year they’re going to have to shutter operations

to save the newsroom she loves, jean and her motley crew of reporters are going to have to put on the biggest talent show break the biggest story this town has ever seen

meet the cast:

jean, the managing editor, is a rising star in the journalism world. she honed her reporting and investigative skills at international gigs in liyue and sumeru before returning home to pick up an editor position at the mondstadt times. she isn’t technically supposed to be in charge of the finances… or of the editorial direction… but with her editor-in-chief on sabbatical and her director of operations off to greener pastures, she kind of just does everything that needs doing. you can often find her and her red pen at the newsroom long after everyone else has gone home

amber is the newspaper’s one and only reporter on the breaking news beat. the times moved away from breaking news a few years ago to focus on more longform stories but amber has stubbornly stuck around. this beat is particularly gruelling because of how quickly news moves - you have to be on your toes all the time, filing sometimes 3-4 stories a day - but amber works tirelessly and with so much enthusiasm that jean sometimes wonders if she’s found something stronger than coffee to get her through the day

lisa is technically the features editor, but since they’re so shorthanded, she’s taken up the responsibility of working with the freelance fact-checkers as well, which jean is desperately grateful for. she doesn’t pull the long hours that jean and amber do, but she gets an incredible amount of work done in her 7-hour workdays. noelle is one of their longtime fact-checkers who’s incredibly meticulous and good at her job - she’s been gunning for a full-time position forever but jean just doesn’t have space in the budget to bring her on

albedo, the lightly mysterious science-prodigy-turned-reporter, heads up the investigative journalists. journos in general tend to be driven by curiosity (read: they love drama) but this bunch in particular loves to stick their noses in things. half their sources only offer information “not for attribution” (their quotes must remain anonymous) or “on background” (they cannot be quoted directly at all). sucrose is a relatively new addition to the team who’s been killing it (somewhat to jean’s surprise) because her inoffensive demeanour makes nervous sources more likely to want to speak with her

eula works the politics beat, which was itself a big headline when she joined the times. no one trusted a lawrence, scion of one of mondstadt’s oldest and most corrupt political dynasties, to report accurately on national politics. but eula has proved herself an invaluable addition to the newsroom - she’s earned a reputation for tough questions and hard-nosed reporting, and has gotten herself thrown out of city hall more than once for refusing to back down from a line of questioning. mika is a younger reporter on the international news beat - he doesn’t have eula’s doggedness, but his head for geopolitics is unparalleled

kaeya is in charge of the lifestyle section - he writes (or assigns) all the fun fluff pieces on celebrities, culture, fashion, food and wine, etc. despite leading the lowest-stakes section, he’s been known to bring jean massive political stories before eula or albedo even catch wind of them. jean suspects he maintains contacts from his time on the crime beat - but when she asks he always just blinks innocently at her and doesn’t respond. he’s also unofficially in charge of babysitting klee, who at the tender age of 8 is the times’s only unpaid intern (mostly because, when alice dropped her into jean’s care, it was easier to give her a title and let her hang around the newsroom than find an after-school program capable of keeping her from causing chaos)

[radioactivepeasant]

Free Day Thursday:

"Responsible Adults", the sequel: Jak tries to do a regular Jak Stunt and is shocked that it doesn't go over well

(Roughly a week after this one ends. Long post warning, as most of these are lol)

Night terrors were not an uncommon experience for Jak. They may not have been his nightly companions anymore, but when he did have them, they were intense. He woke up in a corner of his room, wedged beneath the sink. There was a vague sense that he was taking cover from something, or someone.

Blessedly, he remembered no details of the nightmare. But the terror still sent his guts quivering the way they had in the prison. Huddled under the cot both for warmth and silently praying the boots wouldn't stop at his door. That he wouldn't end up Tyber's new punching bag when he got bored of the old man in the cell above Jak's.

Tyber is dead. Errol is dead. Praxis is dead. I watched them die.

Jak repeated the words like a mantra until he could move his limbs again. He crawled out from beneath the sink, but the lingering fear made his room feel claustrophobic. Smaller than it really was.

At least he hadn't woken Daxter this time.

Jak put on his boots, but didn't bother getting fully dressed. He didn't even know what time it was. Why bother if the doctor and the king guy were just going to nag him about being sleep-deprived anyway?

It must have been early morning, before dawn; the moon had vanished and people were outside doing repair work on houses and fog-catchers.

Early morning was the best time to get any outdoor work done in Spargus. A small girl led a flock of caprids out of the stables and towards one of the other districts to graze on the cactus there, and a gang of trainees only a little older than Jak were taking advantage of the temperature to do an endurance run around the city.

Personally, Jak didn't see the good of such things. You learned to be fast enough or smart enough to escape your enemies, or you didn't. He'd learned through life and death experience, not a footrace with no winners.

"Easy with the straps there!" A stocky man backed into Jak, calling up to a team of three people.

"Ope-! Scuse me there, pipsqueak." The Wastelander stepped to the side as if Jak was barely worth noticing.

"Howland, that thing ain't cinched tight enough!"

They seemed to be trying to remove a corroded beam from the supports of one of the multi dwelling houses. It was already leaning at a precarious angle, as big around as a grown man. If that beam came down the wrong way, it would take a lot of the adobe structure -- and probably a lot of people -- with it.

"It's fine, Daru!" Howland complained, "I just cinched it!"

"Well cinch it again! That sucker’s leanin'!"

Jak frowned, but let his curiosity wash away the dregs of the night terrors.

"What's wrong with it?"

The unofficial foreman tugged at a bushy red mustache and shook his head. "Don't rightly know yet. Could just be age. Sand storms and salt air will do a number on this kind of metal after a while."

Jak wondered if that had anything to do with Sandover using wood and stone almost exclusively. He was about to ask why it had been anchored to a mud wall when there was a loud metallic clang. The last bracket holding the beam snapped under the weight, and the straps weren't enough to hold it.

Jak didn't remember moving. But then he was there, with the beam on his shoulders and the foreman on the ground, having narrowly avoided being crushed to death. Cold metal dug into his hands, pressed down against his head, and Jak knew that by rights he should've been dead.

There was a thrill of revulsion in his chest when he reluctantly acknowledged that the only reason he was standing right now was that the dark eco experiments had lengthened his muscle strands to twice the size of a normal hu'men's. It wasn't just in his dark form. That element of...unnatural...was just with him. Every moment.

"Frith! Oh my- HOWLAND! GET DOWN HERE!" Daru roared, "YOU COULDA KILLED SOMEBODY!"

"I got it," Jak said through gritted teeth. "Is there a place to put this thing down?"

"Not yet," Howland admitted as he shimmied down a ladder.

"We were going to cut it into pieces once it was secure, transport it that way to be recycled."

Jak craned his neck, but the motion jarred the beam. Hastily, he adjusted his grip.

"What's- What's around me?"

"Too much," said Daru grimly. "Just- Hold on, kid."

He winced at the boy's flat stare.

"Er...no pun intended. We're gonna, gonna get you out from under there, I promise!"

"Get it cut up first," Jak grunted, "And you won't have to worry about getting me out."

"And what if your hands get sweaty, huh?" Daru demanded, "Fat chance, little man! We're going to find something to hold this up!"

The other two men hurried down from the roof with saws in hand.

Oh gods. Handsaws. This was going to take a while.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Honestly, Damas should have been expecting trouble when he didn't start his day with a free heart attack after seeing eyeshine in the kitchen. The kid was diametrically opposed to the concept of sleep, so he wouldn't have been in bed. If he was off his routine -- and by now Damas had learned to dread something interrupting the kid's self-imposed routine -- then there was probably going to be trouble later.

When he refilled the fuel in the Beacon, fed the birds, and actually had a cup of coffee uninterrupted, he was suspicious.

When the sun rose and there were no echoes of truncated curses in the halls from guards running into Jak, he started to wonder if the kid had decided to work outside. Unusual, but as long as he didn't do anything that would make Dr. Petros yell at them both, more power to him.

But when the talking ottsel showed up in the throne room about an hour after dawn, frantically demanding to know where Jak was, Damas was concerned.

Those two were attached at the hip! Jak wouldn't have gone to look for work without Daxter.

There was a small crowd forming by the time Damas stepped outside. People were shouting encouragements, or conflicting advice about pulleys and snatchblocks. Had something fallen? Damas hadn't heard any impacts. As he began to pick his way through the crowd, the shouts took on new meaning.

"He's slipping! Somebody get under there!"

"How many more hands do you want? There's ten people holding the beam up!"

"Why won't he just let go?!"

"Standing this long, maybe his arms locked up-?"

A beam? People holding a beam-?

An accident. There'd been an accident and night watch hadn't caught it.

Thoughts of crushed citizens and mangled houses circled Damas’s imagination as he pushed through the rest of the crowd, close enough to hear the rasp of handsaws and the buzz of a lone angle grinder.

"Get the cart back in!" Someone yelled, "Next piece is almost off!"

From the looks of things, a crew of four had reduced a two-story high support beam by a third.

Ten Wastelanders were beneath the colossal pole, hands and shoulders braced against the metal as it shrieked and groaned. If even one of them slipped-!

Damas threw down his staff without thinking to join them, racing to catch the end beginning to slide.

"What happened?" he demanded, straining with the others to keep it from crushing the houses and themselves.

"Tie straps broke!" a man three people down called back, "If it weren't for the kid, it woulda come down right through the roofs of a couple houses!"

Kid?

Oh gods don't tell me...

Jak was standing in the very center of the line. His arms trembled, and sweat poured down his face. He didn't seem to hear anything happening around him, too focused on keeping his grip. He was beginning to pale.

"What's he doing here?!"

"Dunno!" A woman to the left answered. "He was already there when me and the girls showed up, but that was two hours ago."

"Hours?!"

Jak had been out here for hours, trapped, and Damas had been none the wiser?

"Why hasn't anyone gotten him out yet?!"

"We tried! The poor kid froze up!"

Damas gritted his teeth and pushed away images of the kid standing alone under that crushing weight for hours until help had woken up.

"Get a truck and winch out of the pit!" He ordered, "Forget damage to the streets, we'll fix it later! I want this thing taken care of now."

It took a full twenty minutes to get the Dozer through the narrow streets of the tower district. By that time, those who had been holding the beam first had cycled out for fresh arms to allow for water and eco. All except Jak. He'd accepted some water that someone poured into his mouth earlier, but still seemed to be unable to let go. He was at the fulcrum point, he insisted, and he wasn't going to let it tip. (Not that he thought he'd actually be able to move at this point.)

Fifteen people attached pulleys and cables to the beam from above, careful not to dislodge the hands of those below. When the cables had all been hooked to the Dozer's winch, the weight began, at last, to lessen.

There was a ragged cheer from the assembled Wastelanders as the end of the beam tipped up and the rescuers eased the other end to the ground. There would be extensive damage to infrastructure to deal with. But nobody had died, and there were no major injuries, and Damas would count that as a victory. Shaking out aching arms, he hurried to the center of the line, where someone was physically holding Jak upright. Damas took hold of the boy's stiff arms carefully.

"It's gone," he said, easing the limbs down, "It's gone, let go, Jak. Come on, you're done."

The kid made a sound, a soft rasping whine that might’ve been words. Then he collapsed.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

When the world drifted back into focus, Jak didn't know where he was. The smell of eco lingered around him, confusing the other scents that could have identified his location. He couldn't move his arms. Why couldn't he move his arms?!

It took a massive effort just to pry his eyelids up. Jak’s breath caught harshly between his teeth as he forced himself onto his side.

Well, that explained the lack of mobility in his arms. He ached like he'd been fighting beyond his limits again. The injection sites would be agitated again, he knew without looking. The pain radiated from his shoulders to his fingertips, skin, muscle, and bone.

The room was a blur. Brown and yellow slowly settled into more colors, ending in something either white or pale blue in front of his nose. The longer he stared at it, the more detail he could see. Pills of thread, clinging to loosely woven fabric. The texture and shape of the warp and weft shifted as he tried to move his hand.

He hissed in pain.

"Well that's what happens when you try to make a career as a load-bearing wall."

Jak tensed. Not alone. Not with Daxter.

Biting down on the pain, he dug his fingers into the pallet beneath him and forced himself upright.

This wasn't the hospital -- small blessings -- but it wasn't his room either. There was a low wooden bedframe on a wall a few feet away, on the other side of some kind of half partition full of plants.

"Where...?"

"Well you're about to think of it as prison," Damas answered from the opposite direction.

He was sitting at a table, hunched over a cup of coffee. The empty pot beside him was a story of its own.

"By the way, you're grounded."

"What?!" Jak sputtered. He started to get up, but fell back onto the pallet with a grunt of pain.

"Like rot!"

Damas glanced back over his shoulder. "Take it up with the doctor. He put you on bedrest, not me. Better yet, blame your own self! You could've let go at any time once the rest of the district turned up to help!"

"The whole...district?"

Jak blinked.

"I don't...remember that..."

Damas sighed and peered into into his mug.

"You've been sleeping most of the day, I'm not surprised. Even with the eco you'll probably be sore for a while."

"How -- ow! -- long was I out there?"

Jak cringed at the look in Damas’s eyes when the man turned around fully.

"Four. Hours. Four hours! Why didn't you let go when others arrived?!"

Was this a trick question? It had to be a trick question.

"Be...cause...I'm not supposed to let other people get hurt?" Jak answered with slow confusion.

Damas stared in complete silence for several seconds. Then,

"You're insane. My foster-son is insane. That's insane! In what world is "throw the youngest under the pillar" a rational solution?!"

"Uh. Haven?" Jak muttered peevishly. He tried to sit up again. "Look, just. Tell me which way my room is and I'll get out of your hair."

Damas pushed his chair back with a scraping sound.

"Mn. No. What part of "bed rest" didn't you hear?"

In brusque motions, he knelt and pulled the blanket back over Jak.

"You are not to do anything even mildly strenuous, or Petros will strangle me. And since I apparently can't trust you not to willingly walk into harm's way unsupervised, you get to camp out in here, and I get to work from home for the next few days to make sure you don't go try to lift a car or something!"

Jak was appalled. "You can't do that!"

Dry as dust, Damas retorted, "First of all, I'm king. Secondly, I'm your legal guardian. Yes I can."

Jak groaned in frustration.

"Where's Daxter?"

"Not grounded."

"Oh come on!"

[fruitybashir]

fun little bojance thing coming to an ao3 near you soon! 🫵🏻 (saturday. its coming on saturday.)

[hr-twink]

wip wednesday

snippet from the upcoming chapter that i just couldn't resist sharing

[rat-rosemary]

For a single moment, look back at me. Pretend I didn't leave you, pretend I didn't betray you and leave you and your family's home in ruin. Look at me like I'm someone you could still love, someone you could still mourn.

Don't call for him! For that other man who talks softly to you across the glass, who you call your love! Look back at me, don't kneel by the drowned body of your new lover, don't let these people I do not know but are always around hold you and lead you away! The water is flowing in, look at me Sapnap, LOOK AT ME! SAPNAP! SAPNAP!

SAPNAP DONT LEAVE ME, LOOK AT ME!

[prince-liest]

I wrote 4.2k words so far today! What did I work on?! Let's guess!

a. 666

b. Once Bitten, Back For More

c. A completely unrelated pre-radiostatic-breakup era PWP that I won't be able to post until June because it's for an event week

Hahahaaaa....

[kindahoping4forever]

I know it’s entirely possible 4/4 are in the studio working on the new album but I wonder why the only teasers we’ve been getting lately are of cashton. Do we think muke are working on something too but moving in silence, or cal and ash just happen to have more free time to be in the studio atm while the other two are doing other stuff? Either way, sooo excited for (hopefully) more cashton bangers on the new project 🤩

I feel like there are likely a number of elements at play here!

At this point, I'm sure they already have a general feel for the vibe and sound of the album, so it may not be imperative for everyone to attend every single session. 5SOS5 primarily has 4/4 writing credits but that has not always been the norm, traditionally their albums tend to have a lot of pair credits or even the occasional solo credit (alongside whatever outside collaborator they're working with, of course).

In the case of what we've been seeing recently, Cal and Ash appear to be in studio with Elijah Noll and Colin Brittain, who they (Cashton, specifically) previously worked with on "You Don't Go To Parties." It's likely that since the band already knows that Cashton works well with that team, it's not a big deal for them to write, demo or possibly even start laying down a track without the entire band present. (Also we don't know if Luke and/or Michael have been involved via Zoom/FaceTime!)

And like you mentioned, scheduling is probably a big factor as well. When we got the first post of Cashton footage, Calum had literally just gotten back from his Australia promo trip, Luke was still in Australia for his recent shows/Fashion Week and Michael was presumably still home in Georgia. With Cal's album release so close (and Michael gearing up for the GMAB! release and album announcement), it's plausible finding a window to get 4/4 in a room is just not currently practical. And! In addition to the craziness going on 5SOS-wise, since they last worked together, Colin Brittain has become a member of Linkin Park and so if they were set on working with him specifically, they'd have to plan around his touring schedule as well.

And of course, it's worth noting that in recent months, Calum and Ashton have been the most active on IG so just because there's been a lack of similar Luke and Michael content, that doesn't necessarily mean there hasn't been any, they could have just not shared it, yk? 😂

But whatever the case, I agree with you, I too am looking forward to (hopefully) hearing some new Cashton bangers whenever the project is complete 😌

[megthemariner]

WIP Word Game

I was tagged by @vivispec! Thanks for the tag, I really enjoyed looking for a sentence/snippet for each letter :)

"Rules: you will be given a word. Then you share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that starts with each letter of your word."

My word was: GROWTH

G - Glancing back at the pantry door, she considers checking on Lucanis first. She’s not stupid, she knows there’s something in the air between them. If only she could figure out what. Or what she’s feeling. Not that she’s ever been remotely good at that before.

R - “Rook?” Spite nearly shouts, hope obvious in its voice. Lucanis had stopped expecting her at every open door days ago. I suppose it is not your nature to give up so easily, Lucanis thinks from somewhere within his own head.

O -“Oh hello. Moving Neve’s notes around again?” It bobs around, whispering. Not for the first time, she wishes she had Emmrich’s ability to speak with spirits.

W - With a splash, she resurfaces, wide-eyed and flailing around in a desperate bid to keep from drowning. He reaches for her, rust-coloured water covering both of them as she scrambles to grasp onto Lucanis’ armour.

T - “There’s no need for that.” It comes out harsher than she intended, and she hurries to explain. “I mean - it’s nice of you to offer - but I don’t want everyone doing twice the work on my behalf.” It will just make them resentful, she thinks. The memories leave a bitter taste in her mouth.

H - His eyes close as he tilts his head, leaning into her touch. Mina wants to say something, but finds she doesn’t have the words. Instead, she leans closer to him, cupping his cheek and bringing Lucanis’ face up to meet hers.

———

I’m leaving this as an open tag, so if you see this & want to do it, feel free to! Your word is HUNGER.