#alex balke
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Things that are lost should stay lost. They might be the best things you can keep, in that way.
Alex Balk, Lost Objects
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God bless Alex for running with, “kid balks at swearing” 😂
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Happy WIPW Ash 🤍
2024 started uphill but I know I can rely on Math Nerd's faith to continue the climb 🛐🙏
1/24/24 WIP Wednesday (CLOSED) | Math Nerd AU
Andrew puts that offer to the test the day and a half they spend at Disney. He gets every gaudy, gimmicky, and over-priced dessert the mouse has to offer and not once do Alex or his 'guardian' balk at the price.
It might be some of the best time in Andrew's life when Alex wipes whipped cream off of his face before licking it off his thumb. Andrew isn't pathetic enough to keep doing it on purpose even if he wants to but it happens 2 more glorious times naturally.
Alex doesn't seem interested in any of the rides even though Andrew knows that the guy is a bit of an adrenaline junkie.
1/31/24 WIP Wednesday Ask Options: HERE
#Math Nerd AU#AFTG#AFTG AU#Andrew Minyard#Neil Josten#Math Nerd - Fall - 02#1-24-24 WIP Wednesday#WIP Wednesday Ask Game#04
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Yes hello I've completed a fic for the first time in I don't even know how long. Maybe two years? More?
ANYWAY Please enjoy. This is part of my The World Turned Upside Down series, where John lives and Alexander dies. I'll make a separate post with the timeline and a list of all of the involved stories. This is the ninth story I've written in this series, but it's the 8th chronologically.
This is Not a Game
The announcement comes off unexpected, but met with delight by Eliza's family. John's anticipated the reaction. His new fiancée is still a young woman. They have all the time in the world to make a happy life.
A fine household, her father says. And more children, her mother adds.
John catches her gaze from across the room and offers a small smile. No one has asked about their true feelings, how the impending marriage is more a deep bond over loneliness than anything else.
Eliza smiles back at him and follows her parents out of the room as they continue discussing plans for the future that might not have happened at all if John had not impulsively opened his mouth.
He places his empty glass of wine on a table and turns to leave the other way. After all, he ought to write his father.
As John exits the room into the hall, he nearly bumps into-
“Oh. Mrs. Church, I'm sorry.”
“It might as well be Angelica now, hm?” She regards John with some cool, unreadable expression. “Since you're about to become my brother-in-law.”
John stares at her a moment. “Yes, I suppose.”
Angelica takes a step closer, her dark eyes boring into John's like she's trying to discern something.
“If you intend to humiliate or hurt my sister, Colonel Laurens-”
“What?” John balks, jerks back like he's been burned. “I have no intention to harm Eliza in any way. I care for her. Deeply.”
“You don't love her.”
John doesn't answer, instead eying Angelica warily. When he doesn't speak she rolls her eyes.
“Eliza tells me everything. I know all about your plan. Your arrangement.”
“Then you know I have no intention to cause any harm to Eliza, or Philip, or your family.”
Every word is true. He does not need money or property. His own family has plenty. The match makes perfect sense to everyone. Until now John’s believed everyone believes this union is real, bound by love. Angelica’s sharp gaze remains fixed on him.
“Do not make the mistake of thinking you were the only, or the first to have cared for Alexander, either.”
John draws a sharp breath, the air freezing abruptly in his lungs. “I don't know what you're-”
“Relax, Colonel Laurens. Your secret is safe.”
John shakes his head, wary. His brow furrows while he tries to breathe again. He’s never told anyone about he and Alexander- before.
“How did you know?”
“Alexander used to write to me,” Angelica says as if she wasn’t discussing a damning secret. “He told me about you and the way he wrote, it was easy to tell how he felt about you.”
“You knew-”
“Does my sister?”
“No.”
He’s never told Eliza that truth. Anxiety gnaws at him, and has. It’s more than the guilt of Alex’s death. It’s more, a truth that John has never told her and never will. Revealing the past will open a rift far too wide to patch. Not only a rift in his friendship with Eliza, but a deeper rift into the past and Alex-
John stops, clears his throat.
“What about you? Do you love your husband, Angelica?”
Angelica eyes him a long moment, “I think I prefer you referring to me as Mrs. Church.”
And then she continues on her way.
#hamilton#hamilteaser#wow I haven't used that tag in a minute#Hamilton fic#John Laurens#Eliza Schuyler#Angelica Schuyler#angst#impending marriage#kind of fake marriage but not really#Angelica is a good sister she's just watching out for Eliza
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Seven Sentence Sunday
Helloooooo I am having a wonderful fall day so here's something sweet and soft from witchy wip! Thank you to @tintagel-or-cockleshells and @cha-melodius for tagging me!
…Should I tell you that when we're apart, your body comes back to me in dreams?...
He stops at the end of that last passage and hugs the journal to his chest. Henry's light touch on his elbow reminds him he's still in the same fucking room.
"I make you feel like this?" His voice is soft and wobbly.
Henry's head tilts in a shy nod.
Alex double checks the date and balks, "You wrote that after three weeks of knowing me?"
"I missed you," he answers, as if it were that simple. As if those words written at the beginning of their relationship didn't just rearrange Alex's insides and turn him into lovesick goo.
I'm not sure who has been tagged in what soooo sorry if you've already done this! Tagging @historicallysam @myheartalivewrites @cricketnationrise @dumbpeachjuice @inexplicablymine
#rwrb fic#my wips#tag game#i had a breakthrough at lunch so im trying to scribble it all down before i go play in the rain some more lol
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Oracle Comes to National City
Fandom: Supergirl
A/N: Once upon a time, I figured it’d be fun to play with the idea of Barbara Gordon coming to National City. This has been sitting in my drafts for a while, and there's no better time to finish it than Disability Pride Month. This is set in Supergirl season 5 and references some Birds of Prey comics.
“Hello, J’onn.”
The familiar voice has a grin breaking out across J'onn's face as he spins around on his stool.
And there in the middle of Noonan's of all places is the one and only Barbara Gordon. This particular branch is spacious enough that she was able to wheel her chair to just beside their table.
“Babs.”
J'onn rises from his chair to give Barbara a hug.
Pulling back, he turns back to the table. “Alex, Kara, this is Barbara Gordon. She’s a friend from Gotham City.”
"It's nice to meet you," Kara says with a friendly smile. Alex gives a little wave.
Barbara smiles at the Danvers. “It’s nice to meet you too. Though truthfully, you need no introduction."
J'onn wonders just how much Barbara knows about them. He has never been so naive as to assume she doesn't know about Kara being Supergirl or Alex being DEO. But still. With all the information of the world at her fingertips, how deeply has Barbara decided to dig?
Barbara must sense what he's thinking because sends him a sly smile. "J’onn talks about you both a lot.”
Well. He certainly can't refute that.
He hasn't told the Danvers much about Barbara, so he does so now. “Babs is a librarian, which among other things makes her a tremendous resource." It's an understatement if ever there was one, but there's only so much he can say in public. He turns to Barbara. "What brings you to National City? ”
"Business," Barbara says simply. "Though maybe we could talk in private?" She glances at the Danvers, so they know they're to be included.
They all agree, grabbing their coffee cups. Kara scoops up the remainder of her sticky bun, her late morning snack, in a napkin.
On the way to J’onn's office, he asks Barbara about her basketball league. The Danvers trail behind them. He doesn't hear them, but they're undoubtedly talking, asking if the other knows what's going on.
They enter as Brainy is putting on a coat, soon to be on his way out.
“Oh, good. You’re back. I am--” Brainy stops in his tracks and balks. “Oracle.”
“Brainiac-5,” Barbara greets. “Or I suppose you prefer Brainy.”
J'onn knows he's mentioned Brainy before, certainly not to the degree of Alex and Kara, but Barbara's never mentioned meeting him before.
“What are you doing here?” Brainy asks defensively, posture growing more rigid and standing a little taller. “You think I am incapable of being good without oversight.”
J'onn has no idea where this is coming from, but Barbara meets Brainy's gaze knowingly. There's clearly history here.
“I never said you couldn’t.”
“And yet you are here.”
“I’m not here because of you.”
Brainy lets out a little hmph of disbelief before turning to the others. “I am going to pick up my pizza, which I will eat... away from here.”
Kara frowns as they watch Brainy leave. “That was like watching Brainy interact with Kelex.”
Barbara sighs then explains, “Shared Coluan memories... they can make things a little messy.”
“So you’re Oracle,” Alex says, looking Barbara over as if for the first time.
Kara says, “Kate told me about you.”
Barbara’s brow furrows as she tries to put the pieces together. “Kate... Kane?”
Kara nods.
“You’ve met?”
“In another universe.”
Barbara mouths, Oh.
Confusion is not an expression J'onn is used to seeing on Barbara's face. It's good to know that even the all-seeing Oracle has limits. Speaking of Oracle and her vast empire of knowledge, J'onn figures it's a good time to talk business. “Would you like to see the Tower? We can talk up there.”
Barbara eyes the stairs leading up to the elevator. “We can talk downstairs.”
It's J'onn's turn to shoot Barbara a sly smile. “Babs, I’m a shapeshifter. Need I remind you that our technology can shapeshift as well?”
She accepts the teasing with a chagrined smile. “How foolish of me to forget.”
“Well, it’s nice to know I can still surprise you,” J'onn says as he transforms the stairs into a ramp.
After a brief tour and a brief interlude about the differences between this Tower and Barbara's own, they get down to business.
“You have a Leviathan problem,” Barbara says easily as if it's common knowledge.
“How do you know about that?” Alex asks before coloring slightly under Barbara's quirked eyebrow. “Right, you’re Oracle. You know everything. My bad.”
Barbara smiles in response before continuing, “More than that, Leviathan is a tech problem, makes it of particular interest to me.”
“Are you sure you want to get involved?” Kara asks, concerned. “Leviathan is dangerous.”
Barbara waves a dismissive hand. “J’onn knows what I like to say.”
He does, but he'd prefer she not. “Please don’t.”
She does anyway. “Never underestimate a deathbed as an opportunity to rethink strategy.”
“Damn,” Alex says, whistling appreciatively. “That’s metal.”
“And not something you should be thinking about,” J’onn says sternly before glaring at Barbara. “Why would you say that?”
Barbara smirks. “It seemed like something they’d appreciate. Was I wrong?”
...
“I know you’re not him.”
Brainy jumps at the familiar voice, cursing under his breath.
He had avoided Oracle when possible, sequestering himself away and assuming he'd hear her coming. He would not have guessed someone in a wheelchair would be that stealthy. He underestimated her. He would not do so again.
"As do I," Brainy responds, not bothering to keep the defensive sarcasm from his voice.
"I know you have his memories. I know Coluan history. I also know that when I was shot, everyone was trying to tell me how to feel, how to move on. Even how not to move on." She runs a hand over one of her wheelchair's pushrims absentmindedly. "So I get it, maybe not exactly but... We are who we choose to be." She looks up at him, considering. “What do you think? Can we work together?”
Brainy meets her gaze and thinks, What would Kara Danvers do?
It's a question that served Brainy well in the past (in the future actually, but that was neither here nor there, or rather, neither then nor now). He considers the situation through her eyes. With their technical powers combined, they could be a formidable team.
And Oracle was right. They had a shared set of memories, albeit from opposite sides, but they could choose what to make of them. He wouldn't let them change his behavior if she wouldn't.
"I'm willing to try."
#barbara gordon#supergirl#j'onn j'onzz#brainiac 5#querl dox#kara danvers#alex danvers#moments in the life of superfam
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What if, instead of balking at the request, Henry takes Alex up on his offer to dance during 'Get Low'? Alex has been wondering why he feels a little funny whenever Henry is around but an errant touch while their bodies are close causes him to reevaluate everything he's come to know about himself. Can the simple bump and grind of a raucous club song really change everything for Alex? And does their relationship shift now that Alex comes to a groundbreaking realization much quicker than ever imaginable? Read to find out!
#firstprince#firstprince fic#firstprince fluff#firstprince smut#rwrb film#rw&rb fanfic#rw&rb#rwrb#red white and royal blue movie#henry fox mountchristen windsor#prince henry of wales#henry#alex claremont diaz#alex#bobbie writes#then wiggle with it#chapter 2 is up tomorrow#smut smut smut to come!
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“your hand is the only part of you with only minor injuries and the doctor [healer, whatever] is right there and will get mad at me if I move you”
There's your prompt for SC, please. You may spread your love forever now. ☺️
okay so i may have taken some creative liberties + merged this with another prompt i've had sitting in my asks... (also on ao3)
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“No snuggling,” Alex calls out, without taking her eyes off of the strip of fiberglass she’s been working on.
Kara groans, dropping back onto her chair. She assumed she was out of her sister’s field of vision. “Remind me what rules we agreed on before I let you in here,” the oldest Danvers demands, in an insufferably righteous tone.
“Don’t distract the patient,” a terribly bored Kara recites.
“And?”
“Don’t bug you.”
“Exactly. And by constantly trying to invade Lena’s bed and possibly disrupting this entire process, you’re doing both,” the doctor announces while placing the strip onto her patient’s broken leg. She looks up at the overly dramatic Kryptonian who’s been acting like her girlfriend is in need of emergency surgery ever since they arrived. “So I urge you to please, for the love of all that is keeping me from smacking you in the head right now, stop.”
“If you smacked me in the head, I wouldn’t be the one to suffer the consequences,” Kara grumbles under her breath.
Like any self-respecting Director of a secret government organization that fights evil every day would, Alex throws a roll of gauze at her sister.
“Rule number three: don’t be a smart ass.”
“You two are children,” Lena chuckles weakly before turning to face the younger Danvers. “Darling, I’m fine. It was a silly accident, and I’ve dealt with much greater medical misfortunes in this lifetime.” She turns to the redhead, “Alex, thank you for your aid; I’m sure there are much more pressing matters you could be tending to at this moment.”
“You’re having your leg immobilized,” the blonde balks in disagreement, the same time as Alex mumbles something about family coming first without taking her eyes off of her work.
It’s been nearly a decade since meeting Kara and her abnormally tight-knit group of friends, yet Lena still isn’t sure what to do with that word, so she focuses on replying to her Earth’s Champion without seeming too affected by the warmth that’s taken place in her cheeks.
“Which is a perfectly common occurrence among those of us who haven’t been granted invulnerability by the radiation of a young star.” Lena extends the arm that didn’t suffer a wrist sprain towards Kara, who, upon taking it, finally aquiesces and sits back down – bright blue eyes watching her with such care, Lena maybe wants to cry a little. She keeps talking instead. “If anything, my ego suffered the worst of it. I can’t believe we’re spending our Sunday in the Med Bay over something as silly as a bit of Halloween preparation gone wrong.”
Truth be told, it is nearly funny how, over months of fighting numerous enemies, the most dangerous battle Lena’s taken part in featured her sense of balance, and a ladder. With Halloween fast approaching, Kara’s excitement has been growing exponentially, and for weeks, she’s watched TikToks of “decor inspo”, then proceeding to eagerly present her favorite ones to Lena – nevermind that they live in an apartment most people can’t even see.
Of course, Lena relented (happily agreed, more like, because most things that put a smile on her beloved’s face also put a smile on her own). And next thing she knew, she was hanging up purple and orange fairy lights while Kara took a shower break – while performing quite the Taylor Swift concert, by the way. The rest, as they say, is an embarrassing flavor of history.
“Hey,” Lena’s hand is delicately cradled by both of Kara’s; maneuvered until her palm is exposed. Soft lips meet her skin in a gentle kiss, and she looks up at ocean eyes once more. “Any Sunday with you is a nice Sunday.”
The clattering of metal prevents the youngest Luthor from finding a suitable response to blabber out.
“And, thankfully, I’m done,” Alex announces before making a beeline for the door.
Kara giggles, “She’s so extra.”
Lena’s flawless eyebrow arches in response, “Nia’s been teaching you new slang?”
“Yeah!” The blonde grins, “I’m cool now.” For all her qualities, Lena isn’t sure her girlfriend has a ‘cool’ bone in her body (which, to her, is perfect- he never fit in with the cool kids).“You’ve always been cool to me, darling”
“And you’re beautiful,” is delivered with butterfly kisses to Lena’s fingertips, which reverberates in her stomach, “and smart, and incredible; and you really don’t have to beat yourself up over this.”
“I- I’m not-”
“You are, a little,” Kara tilts her head as if in question, and Lena gives a minute nod. There’s no reason to lie – it’s no wonder the youngest Luthor has a few problems with failure and making a mess. “And that’s okay. I love you all the more for your less-than-accurate calculations.”
“So you’re saying I made a mistake, are you, now?” The corner of her mouth ticks up in a challenging smirk, and Kara can’t help but be pulled in a little.
“Mhmm. I think so,” she answers confidently, if a little dazed by the forests that Lena’s eyes hold, then plants a kiss onto the tip of her nose. “Come on, scooch over; I want to be closer to you.”
Already having been leaning into Lena’s space, Kara plasters herself onto the side opposite Lena’s injuries, an arm over her midriff, hands still intertwined. She barely settles her head next to Lena’s when the intercom nearly jolts her onto the floor.
“I SAID NO SNUGGLING!”
The blonde sticks a tongue out to the security camera, then nuzzles deeper into Lena.
“You’re not the boss of me, I can do what I want,” she declares, then proceeds to fry the devices with just a tad of heat vision.
And- yeah, maybe letting Kara, in all her clumsy glory, near Lena’s drying cast is not a great idea. But, to be honest, the cocoon she finds herself in is far too warm, and far too cozy, for her to be making safe decisions.
-
thank you very much for the prompt and a special thanks to @autisticlenaluthor and @apple-knees for proof and beta-reading as well as brainstorming with me <3
#supergirl#supergirl cw#supergirl fanfic#supercorp fanfic#supercorp prompt#kara danvers#lena luthor#supercorp
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The prompt challenge continues! And I have some more things to share! Idk where this one is going really, or where it came from. But y'know sometimes you need some characters learning to be just a tad nicer to each other. As a treat.
~~~
The rain and the mud were bad enough; Alex didn’t need his smirk, too. She winced as she tried to take another step in the mud, but the thick substance clung to her legs like glue. Somehow, having an audience only made it worse. It was like Dorian’s amused spectating encouraged it to be worse. “You,” she said, gritting her teeth as she took another labored step, “are not helping. It’s bad enough you don’t sink into the mud, you have to laugh when I do?”
As if to drive home her point, his next step was a harsh stomp. Despite having soles the size of a child’s bed and heavy boots thick enough to weather all the elements, he barely broke the surface of the mud. The impact shook the ground nonetheless, though, and Alex wobbled. Dorian stood tall over her, not flaunting his twenty foot height but not really needing to.
“I do have to laugh,” he said, watching the path ahead. “Because I offered to carry you across this stretch of the road. And you said no, because your pride is more important than keeping your shoes in any kind of good repair.”
Alex clenched her jaw. She couldn’t argue that point. When he’d suggested carrying her until they found more stable ground, she’d balked at the idea. And if she really gave it any amount of thought, he was right about her reasoning, too. She was prideful, and the thought of being carried around by someone, even a titan who by all accounts couldn’t help how big he was, grated against her independence.
She fought her way through a few more steps in the mud before a feeling of dread curled in her stomach. She was sinking further, and after the last step the mud was up to her thighs. It felt like a grip had closed around her legs.
“O-okay, fine,” she said, excusing her stammer as a side effect of the chill from the rain. “I could use your mud-immunity. I can’t move.”
Dorian, who already walked atop the mud at a leisurely pace, came to an equally leisurely stop. He barely glanced back at her but she saw that smirk still stuck in place. “What was that? All worn out now and want my help?”
She grimaced. “Dorian, I don’t have time. I’m sinking.”
“Why not just back up a bit and go around? Or better yet, just ignore the problem and be more stubborn, surely that’ll work‒”
“Dorian, please just help me out!”
He turned his focus on her at last and found her trying and failing to use her hands to dig away some of the mud, but it was steadily pulling her down. Alex wasn’t looking at him anymore; she was only watching with a frantic heart as her efforts did nothing. Where she normally came almost to his knees, now she was barely past his ankles.
Until he took a few steps towards her and knelt down at last. Both of his large hands wrapped around her waist and hoisted her up; defying the pull of the mud as if it were water. He hadn’t yet explained why he could ignore a simple fact of nature, but at the moment Alex didn’t care. The mud didn’t behave right for him and that meant she was free of it at last. It even sloughed off of her far quicker than it ought to, dropping back to the ground with several plops though she merely dangled gently from Dorian’s grip.
“Thank you,” she said, avoiding his gaze and trying not to sound too pouty about needing the rescue in the first place. “If you don’t mind setting me down on some more solid ground…”
Dorian’s smirk returned at last. “Not a chance, princess. You’re hopeless out here in this weather.”
She glared at him and opened her mouth, but only a yelp came out as he shifted his grip and held her closer to his chest in the crook of his arm. She was so startled by the move that she forgot to squirm for a moment. “Dorian! This is unnecessary! And embarrassing!”
He sighed, and from this close she felt how his chest expanded and contracted. “Alex, there is no reason at all to deny help in this situation. I know I was teasing you, but really. I’m more equipped than you are to deal with this terrain. Just relax for now and we’ll cover plenty of ground.”
She grumbled and crossed her arms, sulking but inevitably reclining in the safe cradle of his arm. She’d gone so much of her life not pulling her own weight. It was only recently she’d been able to understand that about herself and start working to improve it. “I could have made it myself. Just so we’re clear.”
Dorian hummed, his smooth voice rumbling in his nearby chest. “Maybe, but isn’t this so much easier?”
“I …” she couldn’t come up with a rebuttal. As he strode forward, unaffected by the rain and the mud and the fog, Alex frowned with more contemplation than consternation. “Yes. I suppose it is.”
#mywriting#snippet#prompt#muunfel project#dorian titan#alex#g/t#g/t handheld#g/t rescue#it's only 800 ish words#the readmore is to keep the dashboard tidy
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The Paley Museum to Host Disney Channel’s End of Summer Celebration For August 26, 2023 In Honor Of Disney Channel's 40th Anniversary
To celebrate the 40th anniversary of Disney Channel, The Paley Museum will host Disney Channel’s End of Summer Celebration for PaleyFamily Day on Saturday, August 26
For one amazing afternoon, Disney Channel comes to life at The Paley Museum with fun-filled activities to celebrate 40th years of Disney Channel. The interactive experience highlights popular current series from Disney Channel, Disney Junior, and Disney+ including Big City Greens,The Proud Family Louder and Prouder,SuperKitties and Kiff.
Disney Channel’s End of Summer Celebration will take place on Saturday, August 26 from 1:00-4:00 PM.
Doors for the event open at 12:00 pm
Tickets are available now for all Paley members and will be available to the general public Tuesday, August 8 at noon ET.
Disney Channel’s End of Summer Celebration
Saturday, August 26, 2023
1:00 to 4:00 pm
Doors for the event open at 12:00 pm
The Paley Museum, 25 W 52 Street, NYC
Don't miss this afternoon of Disney magic! Bring your family to an interactive celebration of Disney Channel’s 40th anniversary. For one amazing afternoon, Disney Channel comes to life at The Paley Museum with fun-filled activities including a chance to meet Bluey and Bingo, your favorite programs on the big IMAX screen, a photo booth, and giveaways.*
The interactive experience highlights popular current series from Disney Channel, Disney Junior, and Disney+ including Bluey, High School Musical: The Musical: The Series, Big City Greens, and Bunk’d. Mark your calendars so you don’t miss this one-of-a-kind opportunity for families to experience Disney Channel up close and personal.
Additionaly The Paley Center will host theatrical IMAX screenings of beloved Disney Channel shows and Disney Channel Original Movies to celebrate 40 years, in terms of animation, the screening will include Phineas and Ferb with Rollercoaster/Candace Loses Her Head and Kim Possible's "Crush" at the Goodson Theater from Wednesday, August 9 to Sunday, August 27, 2023
A 40th Anniversary Celebration of Disney Channel
Wednesday, August 9 to Sunday, August 27, 2023
Goodson Theater
To celebrate Disney Channel’s 40th anniversary, the Paley Center is pleased to present many of Disney Channel’s most popular series and movies over the years. On our large screen, you will be able to experience many of Disney Channel’s most unforgettable characters, including Hannah Montana, Alex Russo, Lizzie McGuire, as well as the energetic casts of The Cheetah Girls and High School Musical. You will also see two beloved animated comedy series, Kim Possible and Phineas and Ferb, which bring delight for the entire family. Enjoy!
12:30 PM
Phineas and Ferb: “Roller-coaster/Candace Loses Her Head" (Episode 1)
Phineas and Ferb invent, scheme, and stay one step ahead of their sister Candace who just wants to catch them up to no good! Their pet platypus Perry lives a double life as a secret agent whose sole mission is to foil Dr. Doofenshmirtz's plans. (2007)
1:45 pm
Kim Possible: “Crush” (Episode 1)
Kim has developed a crush on Josh Mankey, a creative artist-type student at her school. She wants to invite him to a school dance, but keeps balking when she's alone with him. Meanwhile, Dr. Drakken and his new sidekick, Shego, have stolen robotic technology from Japanese toy mogul Nakasumi to build a doomsday robot. With Wade's help, Kim and Ron find Drakken and destroy his new robot. Kim finally builds up the nerve to asks Josh to the dance. (2002)
#Kim Possible#Phineas and Ferb#Big City Greens#BCG#The Proud Family#The Proud Family Louder And Prouder#Proud Family#Proud Family Louder and Prouder#SuperKitties#Kiff#Disney Kiff#Disney Channel#Disney Junior#Disney Jr#Disney+#Disney Plus#Disney Channel 40th Anniversary#Disney Channel 40 Anniversary#The Paley Museum
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Good evening Band of Brothers fic readers!
I've been mulling over supernatural gifts as a neat AU idea so I wrote three little snippets.
Featuring: Joe Liebgott, Eugene Roe, Bill Guarnere, and Ron Speirs. Co-starring no less darling but slightly less magical Floyd Talbert, Babe Heffron, Skip Muck, and Alex Penkala.
--
“They don’t just go away.”
Eugene nearly jumps sky high at the sound of the voice in the dark, though even in his instant of panic, he recognizes it. He spins around and sees a silhouette that can only be Liebgott, crouching near the edge of his foxhole.
“You about scared me half to death,” he says reproachfully.
Liebgott smiles, faintly. “Sorry.” He’s not. “You heard what I said?”
Eugene frowns at him. In context, of course, if one knew what Eugene knows, then what he said makes perfect sense. But no one knows what Eugene knows. “I don’t know what you mean,” he says.
“Yeah, you do.” Liebgott glances off toward the line, eyes fixed on some point far off in the cold, silent dark. “You see ‘em too. I know you do.”
Eugene balks for a moment. He’s never met another living soul that he wasn’t related to who could do what he can do. “You see them?” he asks, knowing it’s not enough of a question but unable to put together a better one in time for it to catch up with his mouth.
“Do I not seem like the type?” It’s rhetorical, and Joe isn’t waiting for an answer as he eyes him for a moment. “You gotta tell them to go. That it’s okay. That they’re, you know.” His mouth quirks, relaxes. “That it’s over.”
“I’ve got enough on my plate these days,” Eugene says, feeling justified in his defensiveness. “It’s all I can do to deal with the living.”
“Even so.” Joe shifts, re-settles in his crouch. “Look. They don’t know that anything’s changed. It’s confusing. They think they gotta stay, for the rest of us. You gotta tell ‘em they don’t have to.”
Eugene wonders if he can picture it, the Joe Liebgott they all know having a gentle heart-to-heart with a friend in trouble. Maybe he can, after all. After his initial doubt, he remembers passing him nearly carrying Tipper in Carentan. He can picture him after Tab got it from a bayonet.
“I try not to talk to them,” he admits. Everything else already rises up around him, choking him, pushing him under; if he’s honest with himself, he can barely tell the living apart from the others these days. “It’s too much.”
“Yeah. Sometimes it is.” Joe looks like he’s going to say something else, and then thinks the better of it and rises. “Do me a favour,” he says. “When it happens to me, tell me that I’m dead.”
Eugene doesn’t answer, but Joe doesn’t seem to expect one. Eugene watches him vanish into the gently falling snow.
--
“Hey, uh." Bill gives a conspiratorial glance around, as if to check he's not being observed. "Don’t tell the rest of the class.”
He tosses a carton of Lucky Strikes into the foxhole. Skip catches it against his chest, and both he and Penkala direct pleased but incredulous looks up at him.
“Is it my birthday?” Skip asks.
“Are you dying?” Alex follows up.
“We’re all dying out here,” Skip quips.
“Don’t make me change my mind,” Bill warns, and they both grin like kids who have gotten away with stealing from the cookie jar.
“What was that for?” Babe asks, crunching toward him in the snow as Bill makes his way back to his own foxhole.
“Anyone ever tell you that you ask too many questions?” Bill grouses.
“No,” Babe says, tucking his hands under his armpits for warmth. “Where’s my free cigarettes?”
“Tell you what,” Bill says. “You can have yours when we get home.”
Babe’s face goes slack with shock. “You mean they’re – ”
“Keep your mouth shut,” Bill snaps, nudging him hard in the ribs. “I told you. Once I dream it, it can’t be changed. Remember Julian.”
People always want to try and alter the unalterable, whenever he tells them. He lets them try so that they understand why he doesn’t anymore. The universe always rights itself. He’s known that since he was five years old.
Babe is white-faced, and he glances over his shoulder at Skip and Penkala but nods. “Is it today?”
“Later,” Bill says. “But I had to make my stops this morning.” He thinks without relish about the shredded snow, the inevitable earsplitting spray of sound and blood and pain that will rattle his skull and his teeth and every last one of his bones. “I’ve got plans this afternoon.”
--
Sometimes Tab thinks about the night of the bayonet. The guys have the odd laugh about it now, but truth be told it scared the shit out of him. If that didn’t turn him grey, he’s counting on a full head of dark hair well into old age. He doesn’t remember the actual part where he was wounded very well, but he does have an extremely vivid memory of then-Lieutenant Speirs coming over, ostensibly to see what all the commotion was, and laying a purposeful hand on his shoulder.
That touch had been like a bolt from the blue.
All of a sudden, everything he had ever worried about had simply spooled out of his body and into the ground. He had felt so strangely calm, floating contentedly above everything, that Liebgott had even commented on it when they’d gotten him onto the stretcher. Hey. You good? Is he good, Doc? He’s quiet. He had dreamed that night like never before, vibrant colours and sounds and places he’s never been.
He has never asked about it, mostly because he’s pretty sure you can’t ask your CO whether he’s got magic hands without becoming a Section 8, but he remembers it clear as day. He knows it happened. There’s not much else you can trust out here but your own instinct about what’s true.
He watches Speirs hold Grant’s hand now, in the tiny designated surgery, while they wait for a doctor to come in and tell them there’s no chance.
He asks, without thinking: “Does it still work, sir? If he’s not awake?”
Eugene looks back and forth between them, and Tab knows suddenly that the Doc knows, too. Of course he does. Doc doesn’t miss much and he’s been in the presence of a lot of men who might have benefited from a pat on the shoulder like that.
There’s a beat.
“I don’t know,” Speirs admits.
“It does,” Eugene says, firmly. Tab can’t tell if he’s guessing or if it’s based in something he’s seen, but either way, Speirs doesn’t argue with him.
The three of them lapse into silence. Chuck dreams on.
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At last, my "Proper Farmer™" got her own actual profile! 😭
Many thanks to the "Farmer Portrait" Picrew for the portrait (duh!) and the "SDV Dollmaker" mostly for the sprites (though I would appreciate if they could be saved in a bigger size 😅).
Also, many, many, many more thanks to @d-structive for the lovely commission! 💖
Here's the original pic:
I only have an extra bit to drop: Melly's recurring theme is "apples".
Hence why the farm is named "Honeycrisp", while Melly's actual name is "Melinda". in addition, her clothing colours is supposed to recall the different colours of the apple fruits while not being an eyesore.
And I know: it is quite ironic for someone so apple-centered to have not a single apple listed anywhere in the "gifts".
Another fun fact about Melly is that the light green gilet is an old gift from her grandmother, who had a huge passion for knitting (and sewing). Melly's been cherishing and treating that clothing item with utmost care, also considering it as some kind of personal lucky charm.
And now, if you made it thus far, inb4 anyone may jump at my throat for what I wrote under "relationships", the fourse horsemen of "avoided like the plague" all have a specific reason each to be avoided:
Haley: Merely commented one time too much on Melly's look. The last straw was her subtle-but-not-really taunt at some sleeveless gilet "so out of style".
Alex: Asked Melly if she wears any bikini. While they didn't even know each other that much. Melly sputtered, panicked, balked and ceased any further attempt at socialising with him since then, in that precise order. 💀
Shane: At first it had been his severely unsociable demeanour to make her desist. After incidentally learning about his struggles with depression, Melly is now low-key scared shitless concerned to say or do something wrong in his presence that might potentially worsen the thing. He is not really a full "ALTP" like the former two, but she'd rather keep her distance until feeling ready enough to attempt any new approach.
Penny: This might come as a surprise, considering how she always seems so sweet and kind and polite and etc. when interacting with her. However Melly came to quite a rough halt with Penny's interactions the day they ended up talking about children. Some farmer has just never really forgotten that "if everyone thought like that, humans would die out" very quick and negative judgement that instantly drove her up a couple walls. 🙂
On the other hand, if Penny will ever reach out with the due apologies, Melly may consider forgiveness; she's too good to hold grudges even after an apology.
As for all the unmentioned NPCs, they are either in the "mutual tolerance" or "neutral" category. The latter would also include people Melly has yet to encounter (kinda hard to have an opinion on someone you've never seen before).
P.S.: The actual profile may be slightly updated in the future, depending on when and if the creator of that specific Picrew will ever include more items (the current portraits desperately needs for eyewear and I'm not that good at pixel-arting to add them myself 😔).
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On the Road to Being the Prized Bull
I can't believe how long it's been since I genuinely posted something... Here's another excerpt from Alex's Bad End. Its at 7k total.
RemyXAlpha!Bull, (not omegaverse like he's the current prize bull), Alex watches...
Tags/warnings: vouyerism, netorare, mind manipulation, orgasm denial, felching
He followed his herd members though he didn’t remember which pen was his. It wasn’t a problem because he was yanked into a pen by a huge hand. It was the fabled Arsen.
“You’ve been eyeing Remy up. But if you want a taste of him you gotta submit to me first. Though understand there’s no guarantee he’ll bend over for you, he’s of auspicious taste.” He was more shocked that Arsen could actually talk. But he quickly went back on the defensive.
“I don’t even like Remy!”
“Hm, then keep your dick soft for the next hour or so. Maybe then I’ll believe you.” Arsen was completely dismissive of everything he had to say. Before he could argue Remy walked into the pen, closing the door behind him.
Remy didn’t look surprised to see him, in fact he smirked. But otherwise, he was ignored. Arsen sat on his hay bed and Remy practically threw himself into his lap.
“Moo.” In an instant Arsen was acting like a stupid cow again. He wanted to call him out on it, but immediately Remy started whining.
“That stupid bitch vomited all over me today! It’s like why even come if you can’t take the heat. It got all over me and poor Hot-To-Trot it was fucking disgusting!”
“Moo.”
“Exactly! And I didn’t have any spare clothes, so I had to waste merch! Ugh and then closing everything early today! I’m losing profit.”
“Mooo?” He was honestly impressed how one sound could convey active listening.
“Of course I am! I’m breaking up with her at the next party! Vomit on me in front of everyone…I’ll destroy her social standing! She’ll never be able to show her face in public again!” Remy being a petty vindictive bitch was no surprise to him, at this rate he was gonna win the bet.
But he noticed an odd movement between the two of them. He got a whiff of Arsen’s musk and realized Remy was jacking him off. He hadn’t even noticed. The voice told him that it was his dick that deserved Remy’s touch. He shook his head and looked away. But as the musk increased and a wet sound got his attention he couldn’t resist a glance.
Remy was happily lapping at balls that were the size of his head. And greater still was the semi-erect shaft attached to them. Even his newly transformed dick couldn’t compete with that monster. Arsen might even beat out some centaurs. Remy didn’t even balk at it, he looked blissful. The complete 180 was jarring. He wanted to win the bet, but something about the way Remy was licking was enthralling. Eventually Remy worked up to licking up Arsen’s shaft. When it was finally fully hard he kissed the tip.
“Ready for your milking?”
“Yes.” He heard Remy giggle and watched him lower his shorts. Without realizing it his head turned to try and catch a glimpse of Remy’s hole. Arsen’s chuckle snapped him out of it.
“Would you like him to prepare you?” Remy’s eyes glimmered as he pretended to mull it over. He should have felt disgusted by the suggestion, but even Remy’s condescending smirk didn’t build up that same vitriol it would have two days ago. Worst of all, he could feel himself getting horny at the prospect.
“I dunno… I had to compensate Hot-to-Trot for his emotional distress so I’m still a little loose. But maybe if he asks me nicely, I’ll let him put a little more lube in me.” He wanted to laugh it off. But he felt his tongue turn to lead in his mouth. Arsen reached over and squeezed Remy’s ass cheeks, before spreading them.
His eyes immediately locked onto that pink hole. Drool pooled in his mouth and he felt his ears flick up and down. Even his girlfriend hadn’t made him feel like this, what had Dr. Harper done to him. Before he could stop himself sounds were shooting out of his mouth.
“Moo!”
“Poor thing. It’s alright cow, I’ll allow you to lube me up but you can only use your mouth. I don’t want those filthy hands or that tiny dick anywhere near me.” Arsen snorted in support.
“You heard him. The unworthy must crawl.” For a brief second his pride returned to him. He tried to fight his body as he dropped to his knees. He could see Remy’s smirk twisting into a full blown smile as he crawled towards him. When he finally reached them he knelt before them. Arsen smiled at him, like he was proud.
“Good.” He snorted, “You have an innate sense of your place in the herd, you may partake of the bounty.” He couldn’t deny himself anymore and pressed his mouth onto Remy’s hole. On the first lick he could taste the centaur and once he pressed his tongue in left over cum flooded onto his tongue.
He felt his stomach curl with revulsion, but instead of pulling away he kept going. His hands tightened his grip on the hay as he tried to get all that cum out of Remy. His cum was still unworthy, but he had to clear the way for Arsen’s. And then maybe he’d be able to taste Arsen’s too. His dick hardened against his thigh while he worked.
Besides the occasional giggle Remy didn’t acknowledge him or his effort. Instead he was devoting himself to fellating Arsen. From his position all he could see was ass, but he could hear Remy swallowing. He wasn’t sure how long he serviced Remy, but all he could taste was cum. He’d never even tasted centaur cum before, but he was certain that now it was imprinted into his mind.
And why was he denied touch. The voice spoke to him again. But instead of a vague urge he heard it,
“Mount him, know the pleasure of serving.” It was his own voice.
+++Stress, +++ arousal
Before he could consider listening, Remy was lifted away from him. His tongue kept reaching out for him. Arsen effortlessly manhandled Remy until he was holding him on the tip off his dick. It was a testament to his strength, watching made him feel like Arsen wanted him to witness the gap between them.
Then Remy effortlessly managed to take in Arsen’s dick. And though Remy was only about a foot shorter than Arsen, his stomach still bulged out once he managed to take the whole thing. He stared mouth agape as Arsen started thrusting. He gripped the straw in yearning.
Anyone else would have been ripped apart, but Remy was happily throwing it back. Auspicious tastes indeed. He couldn’t compete, but he desperately wanted to be in Arsen’s place. His dick throbbed, he ignored it enraptured by the sight. Between moans he heard Remy taunt him,
“Such an obedient bull. You better not cum, I won’t have you waste a drop of merchandise.” And without a touch it was like there was a vice around his balls. Were all of the cows beholden to Remy’s whims.
Finally the two of them came. Arsen slammed Remy down one last time and Remy’s spend landed on his face.
His cock throbbed painfully and without conscious effort he started licking up the meager amount of cum sprayed onto him.
“Yes, this one knows his place well enough. He may yet be a credit to the herd.” Remy smirked and placed a hand on his cheek.
“We’ll see tonight won’t we? You’ll be a good boy and make looots of milk for me.” He leaned his head into the pets. If he closed his eyes he could almost imagine her hands.
“Well I’ll be going now. You two play nice till milking.” Remy got dressed, seemingly unperturbed by the cum dripping down his legs. Surely, he wouldn’t go out like that. As the door closed behind him he heard Remy shout for someone.
“Oi Brutus, come here boy!” He heard Arsen chuckle and looked at him.
“He’s insatiable. Don’t delude yourself into thinking you can satisfy him.” The teasing snapped him back to reality.
“I don’t want anything to do with him.” Arsen scoffed,
“You do and that’s natural. Who wouldn’t want him. Besides his ass, he’s so sweet and kind. He is of a magnanimous spirit…” As Arsen went into a soliloquy about his love for Remy Alex tuned him out, he seriously acted like some wiseman the second Remy was gone. But more confusing was his reverence for one of the worst people on the island. And if he thought about it, hadn’t that one girl been the same. He felt close to a breakthrough, he wasn’t sure what he was on the verge of discovering.
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WIP Wednesday:
This started as a bunch of Drabbles, like the Wedding week with David and Patrick. It’s basically a RWRB AU where Alex and Henry meet at an anonymous sex club in Rio.
Every now and then Nora would discover some new queer bar or nightclub and Alex, being the super chill ally he was, would go with her. For emotional support. That’s not to say that he didn’t have a good time. If there’s one thing Alex loves, it was a party. He and Nora would drink and dance until everything around him was a warm, rainbow blur.
It never took long for someone (or multiple someones) to buy Alex a drink and some nights he even made out with a guy or two. But it was just fun. It didn’t mean anything.
They had gone to Rio for business, initially. He and Nora were seen dining and schmoozing at a black tie fundraising event for the Claremont 2020 campaign. Afterward, Alex was feeling restless and somehow, Nora found an underground queer sex club out of nowhere, like the true witch she was.
Alex initially balked at the theme of the masquerade event they were holding that night: Medieval Times.
“We were just in a room full of some of the richest people in the world,” Alex tells her, “Why would I want to go to the medieval equivalent of that? I don’t need to see hundreds of people dressed as the product of colonialism, thank you very much.”
“I thought you might feel that way,” Nora says with a devilish grin, “ Which is why I brought you this.” She pulls a costume out of a garment bag and Alex stares at it, a little stunned by how well she knows him, and how well she just played him.
“Okay, fuck it. I’m in.”
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Forced to Choose
Title: Forced to Choose
Day: Febuwhump 2023, Day 26: Forced to Choose
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Word Count: 1142
Author: aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl
Rating: K/G
Characters: Olivier Mira Armstrong
Warning: NA
Summary: Lieutenant Olivier Mira Armstrong has a received a letter from her mother, one that gives her a choice. Continue in her military career and gain rank and honor for her country, but loose her place in the family, or go back to her family and gain her place among them again, but loose her military career. In the end, it really isn’t a choice.
Notes:
ff.net || AO3
____________________________________
Forced to Choose
Lieutenant Olivier Mira Armstrong stared down at the letter in her hand, scowling at it. So. It had come down to this. She had figured that eventually it would happen, but she had hoped that, given her accomplished record, it wouldn’t. Then again, why would anything go the way she would wish? Her life’s plan had been disrupted enough at this point that she knew better than to count on it.
The letter was from her mother, and while everything was covered in the typically flowery language of her family and high society, Olivier knew how to read between the lines. In between the flowery questions about how she fared, and the exploits of her siblings and other family members, there was the question of when she would settle down and marry. It was a question of what she would choose.
Olivier frowned at it. While she knew that her family was proud of her military career, and didn’t have a problem with women joining the military or being in service of her country, she also knew that there was an expectation that she would eventually retire, marry, settle down and produce heirs to carry on the Armstrong family line—even if she would take on her husband’s name and not technically be an Armstrong anymore. That pressure from her mother had only increased after Olivier had been captured and tortured by Drachma. She knew that her mother simply wanted her safe.
It was the mention of her father asking about it that gave Olivier pause. She knew that he had strong ideas about how the family should go. When she had left home for the Academy, it hadn’t been on the best of terms. There had been no objection to her going to the Academy, of course. That was a well-respected and viable choice for any Armstrong. No, that hadn’t been the problem. The problem had come down to the family sword, and the implications of wearing it.
Typically, the eldest carried the Armstrong Family sword. Olivier, being both the eldest and the greatest swordsman in the family in several generations, had expected to take the sword with her. She was the eldest. It was her right. Her father, though, had refused it to her, saying that the heir was the one that carried the sword.
Olivier had balked. While typically the eldest and the heir were one and the same, it was not the case with them. Olivier was the eldest. However, her father had named Alex the heir. And while Alex may have taken her place in the family, she was not going to let him take her sword too.
They fight had been loud, aggressive, and relationship shattering. Olivier was not one to back down, and she had gotten stubbornness from both her parents. It was only her mother’s intervention that kept the argument from getting worse than it had been. In the end, Olivier had left with her sword, a broken relationship with her father, and a strained one with the rest of her family.
Strained though it was, she had a least still tried to do her duty as the eldest daughter. When Catherine had been born, a surprise child to an older mother, the birth had very nearly taken her mother. Olivier had returned home for a few months, helping to take care of both her mother and Catherine, as well as take over her mother’s duties. And after she had been rescued from Drachma, and after being released from the hospital, she had consented to return home to finish recovering. She had tried to do her duty both in the military and as a daughter.
And now she had this.
This was a choice. That much was clear to Olivier. She was being given the choice of continuing in her military career, but forsaking her place in the family, or forsaking her military career and returning to her place in the family.
To continue in her military career meant forsaking her position as eldest. Oh, she would always hold it and no one could take that, but when it came to social engagements, when it came to making connections, when it came to all of the high society expectations, duties, and requirements, people would not come to her anymore for them. They would, instead, go to Amue, and people would talk behind their hands and fans and glasses of champagne about the eldest Armstrong and how she abandoned her duties by her family.
But it would give her the opportunity to leave behind so much of high society. It would mean that when she was in the trenches, digging, when she was there learning her men from the ground up, when she was ruthless and cold, people wouldn’t question it. There would be a freedom in it, allowing her a better reputation in the military, and more chances to do what was right for her country.
To return to her family meant that she would once again have the expectations of eldest thrown on her. Her mother would once again review with her the expectations of a proper high society lady, and she would be expected to mostly stay within them. She’d have to keep up with gossip and rumors and learn how to tell what was true and what was false, and what she could spin her advantage. As eldest but not heir, there stood a good chance that she might inherit the family spy network and learn how to run it.
But it also meant leaving behind what she had already built. She had networks. She had a reputation. She knew that there was so much more that she could do for her country. She had the talent and the skills to take things far. She could do so much for this country, and she knew it. She just needed to achieve the rank and position to make it happen.
Olivier looked down at the letter again. It was a choice. She was being asked to make a choice between continuing her military career or returning to the family.
In the end, it was no choice at all. Despite all the love that she had for her family, Olivier knew that sometimes, what was most important, what was most honoring to her family name was not compliance with her family’s wishes, but standing up for what was right for the country.
Olivier sat the letter down, and then let down the door on her desk that turned into a writing surface and pulled out some stationary. It was time to let her mother know her choice—and to let her family know that she wouldn’t be returning home.
If Olivier Mira Armstrong couldn’t become the driving force for her family, then she’d become one for her country—and that was her plan.
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reading update: December edition
hi all! while I already did my roundup for every book I read in 2022 and included the books I read in December, they still haven't gotten their own special little recap because the last few days of 2023 were crazy hectic and I didn't have the time. now that I'm back in the office (barf, gag) with hours to kill, let's rewind and look at the year's last batch of books!
what I read:
The End of Policing (Alex S. Vitale, 2017) - excellently concise and thorough breakdown of why policing simply is not beneficial or even practical for the communities it allegedly serves. strongly recommend, I highlighted so much.
Glitterati (Oliver K. Langmead, 2022) - a book that was so infuriatingly close to being one of my favorite books of the year, until it shot itself in the dick in the last quarter. Glitterati starts out as a Vantablack-dark comedy absolutely skewering ultrawealthy celebrity influencer paparazzi aesthetic culture, and for most of the way Langmead does an admirable balancing act making out protagonist, Simone, utterly reprehensible in his alienation from anything human and sincere while also making clear that Simone and people like him are fundamentally hollow, miserable shells. (one detail that sticks with me so clearly is the mention that Simone loved playing the cello, but gave it up because he was too afraid of getting calluses.) when I say that Langmead fumbled massively by (spoilers) writing a happy ending pseudo-redemption arc for Simone I'm not saying that out of some asinine belief that it's Morally Wrong to show bad people growing and changing because that encourages readers to emulate their bad behavior; I just think this novel really seemed like it had something to say and then balked at the last minute in order to conform to a more conventional narrative structure. it's disappointing, reader. I'm disappointed.
Bruce Wayne: Fugitive (Greg Rucka et al, 2002) - Fugitive isn't as strong as the preceding Murderer by a country mile - it feels much less tightly organized, and meanders on a bit too long - but frankly all of that is worth it for a scene of Bruce Wayne sincerely apologizing to his family for being an insufferable bitch who's unpleasant to be around 99% of the time. while I was reading Murderer I made a post about how I can't fuck with much of Batfamily fanon and Wayne Family Adventures-style writing that posits the Bats as generally well-adjusted, endlessly supportive, and excruciatingly aware of their various troubles, and I think this is why: the moments of emotional vulnerability feel so much more satisfying when they're extracted from a rotten mess of misunderstandings rather than the default.
Even Though I Knew the End (C.L. Polk, 2022) - C.L. Polk is one of those authors who has my attention immediately whenever they drop something new, and this novella did NOT disappoint. a crisp and stylish noir murder mystery following a lesbian couple navigating the forces of heaven and hell through mid-century Chicago, this story begs to be devoured in a single sitting.
Interview with the Vampire (Anne Rice, 1976) - I wanted to like this book so much, and I do like parts. but the high highs are contrasted with low lows, and sometimes Louis' incessant whinging had me skimming for pages at a time. I'm afraid that my love of morbidly depressed bisexual vampires with complicated family dynamics won't be enough to keep me reading, Anne.
The Sandman: A Game of You (Neil Gaiman et al, 1991) - this isn't my personal favorite Sandman arc, but I think it is maybe the most iconic and honestly? deserved for Wanda alone. much like Season of Mists, there's a compelling point to be made here that some of the best Sandman stories are the ones with as little of the actual Sandman as possible. love the grumpy bastard, but sometimes you need a nice long break from his shit.
America Is Not the Heart (Elaine Castillo, 2018) - a last minute entry that stole my whole heart. you may recall me absolutely swooning over Castillo's essay collection, How to Read Now, that was released earlier this year, and I'm so glad I decided to seek out her novel so promptly. America Is Not the Heart is a gorgeous coming of age for a 30-something doctor from the Philippines remaking her life after being released from a prison camp and moving to California to live with her uncle's family. she bonds with her baby cousin, she develops a big fat crush on the local faith healer's granddaughter, she remembers how to have friends. it just painfully beautiful in a lot of ways and got me so good; I can't recommend it enough.
White Tears/Brown Scars: How White Feminism Betrays Women of Color (Ruby Hamad, 2020) - a lightning-fast, brilliantly organized read that dives DEEP into the impact of racist colonial laws around the globe and how they contribute to misogynoir and other forms of racialized misogyny today. there's a particular motherlode of information about the sexual politics of interracial sex under colonialism and slavery - the dehumanization of Black and brown women considered perpetually sexually available to white men, the demonization of Black and brown men seen as sexual threats to white women and white supremacy by extension, the difficulties of knowing if any interracial relationship could truly be considered consensual under such conditions. I've got several books on the intersection of sex, sexuality, and racism on my to-read list for the year, and this felt like as good a place as any to start.
what I'm reading now:
Jade Legacy (Fonda Lee, 2021) - I'm so excited for the conclusion of the Green Bone Saga, even though this book is like 700+ goddamn pages long. I truly cannot extend enough thanks to the person who ruined my reading poll by doing the exact thing I told everyone not to do and complaining about one of the options; it made me read Jade City immediately and I've loved every second of the series since.
Shit Cassandra Saw (Gwen E. Kirby, 2022) - very cool short story collection, one of my favorite covers ever
what's next:
Catwoman: Lonely City (Cliff Chiang, 2021) - Cliff Chiang's striking art was one of my favorite parts of Paper Girls, and I'm beyond excited to see his illustrations for a one-last-heist story about Selina Kyle
Where It Rains in Color (Denise Crittendon, 2022) - splashy new sci-fi and one of the only 2022 releases that I couldn't get my mitts on before the year was over!
Babel, Or the Necessity of Violence: An Arcane History of the Oxford Translators' Revolution (R.F. Kuang, 2022) - I'm going to be so real: I've had R.F. Kuang's Poppy War series sitting on my TBR forever and wasn't in any particular hurry to get around to it, but seeing white bookstagrammers complaining about this book's """"reverse racism""" made me more interested in reading it than literally any actual marketing campaign could have.
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