thanks so much to @toktopus-art for this awesome commission that she drew! based on a scene from my vamp!eddie steddie fic.

fitz's hard knock life

5 years earlier

Last night was fun, probably a little too much fun. Marie Moreau might be a grade grubbing, social climbing pain in the ass (pot meet kettle, they know), but she sure can dance, not to mention kiss. And she’s the sort of pretty that knocks them on their ass every time. Dancing with her at the club wasn’t the plan, the plan was to glare at her from across the floor while silently resenting Luke for inviting her along, but after a few too many drinks, and lines of coke and a shot of Molly for good measure, something weird happened.

Breathy and glistening from a straight half hour of sexy dancing with Cate, Marie came up to them, similarly loosy goosy from various substances that only Supes could safely metabolize. And she took their hand, her stacked silver rings clicking against theirs.

“Come on, do something spontaneous for once in your life, dance with the girl you hate.”

“I don’t hate you,” they said.

“Could have fooled me.” She said as she led them up from their chair and to the thumping, strobe lit heart of the club. She didn’t take no for an answer, but also, it wasn't certain that they actually said no in the first place. 

The DJ was playing Capsize, a song they liked a lot more without the dancehall bells and whistles, and yet, in the moment, it wasn’t so hard to be carried by it.They were hypnotized by the sounds and the constant motion around them, and by the girl in their arms oscillating like troubled water.

Up at night I'm awake cause it haunts me/That I never got to say what I wanted/Oh my God, oh my God/I’m not the same as I was with you/I would jump out my skin just to get you/Oh my God, oh my God

Her voice rose above the music, “You know, it makes me mad sometimes, how handsome you are.” 

“Excuse me?”

“I only mean because you’re such a dick.”

And they didn’t really know why, probably because they were both obliterated at the time, but Jordan laughed, a genuine, almost sweet laugh, because it wasn’t everyday someone called them a dick and it sounded like a term of endearment. Also, it wasn’t lost on them that handsome was another word she used. Being called handsome chafed sometimes, it only fit part of their story. But it was also the only part they chose to share with her, or anyone for that matter.

Jordan wasn’t much for dancing, on the occasions someone convinced them to get up and move to blaring EDM, they relied on guarded, understated moves, a head bop here, a shoulder sway there. But her closeness, and her scent and her big brown eyes looking right into theirs as her wrists rested against their neck, made them want to lose themselves in the machine beat, let their hips and their hands move more than a conservative amount.

I'm fine/Drop tears in the morning/Give in to the lonely/Here it comes with no warning/Capsize, I'm first in the water/Too close to the bottom/I'm right back where I started/Said I'm fine

“I don’t hate you either,” she leaned in to say into their ear. And before she could pull back, Jordan’s lips landed on hers, almost as if by accident, like they had a thought and acted on it before their common sense could catch up. They’d blame it on the drugs, they’d pretend in the morning that it meant nothing, because a kiss didn’t matter much at the end of the day, not even one as good as that. 

Something about the way she opened her mouth along with theirs made Jordan’s head float away, swallowed by the music and the feel of her soft curves under their hands, and before they knew what was happening they were sucking the space beneath her ear like a horny vampire, they were calling an uber, they were backing her into her her dorm room and untying the little laces on her top, they were laying her down on the blankets.

It was more than a fun night, it may have been the best night. But it’s over now, time to get up, get dressed, drink a full gallon of water and drag their ass to class…

…except this isn’t their dorm room, because when they peel their eyes open Marie is looking down at them, her preternaturally expressive face skewed in unmistakable confusion. They’re still in her room, and the Jordan she brought here is noticeably different from the Jordan she’s looking at right now.

Shit shit fuck. This is why they don’t fall asleep with people.

They launch up from the bed, wrapping the sheet around their chest, they would switch back but they aren’t sure if the fact that they can turn from a boy to a girl is more comforting than the possibility that a random woman sneaked into her room in the middle of the night.

“Jordan slow down, just tell me what’s going on. Is this not the first time this has happened?” 

She knows it’s them, maybe she saw them change while they were sleeping, maybe it’s because their jewelry is the same, or maybe she can sense it with her sweet ass powers, but she knows. Why are they still here? Why isn’t she freaking the fuck out and ordering them to leave right now? Sure she’s a supe, she knows that weirder things than this have happened, but as far as they know she’s never woken up next to those weirder things.

“I don’t know what happened, I’m never this careless. And I mean never.”

“Jordan, hey, come here, sit down.” 

After a few moments of hesitation, they obey. They aren’t really sure what else to do, they can’t exactly pretend this never happened, it’s not like they won’t see her in class in a few hours.

“So you mean this is just something you can do whenever you want?” She asks.

They shrug a shoulder in response, “Yeah, pretty much.”

“That’s fucking rad, why don’t you tell people?” It’s not the response they were expecting, and yet somehow, it is. After all, she knows exactly what it’s like to have an ability that people don’t understand.

“I want to be in The Seven,” Jordan explains. “I want that more than anything and no matter how much they try to act like the greatest superheroes are all special and different, the less special and different they are, the better.” 

Of course that’s what they tell themselves, and it’s mostly the truth. But that wasn’t exactly how all of this self doubt started. It started the night of the robbery. Marie doesn’t need to hear all of that though.

“But–

“Listen, this doesn’t have to be anything okay?” They say, and switch back before they can get too used to this. “We both got pretty trashed last night and some stuff happened. We don’t need to talk about our secrets and our feelings. It’s cool.”

She looks almost hurt, and Jordan wants to say something else to make that look go away, but they can’t. This is for the best.

“I won’t tell anyone,” she says, and Jordan stands up to leave, holding the sheet in place, gathering up their clothes and thinking this is the end of whatever the hell this is.

But it isn’t the end, because they won’t be able to stop thinking about her. And a week from now they’ll be back in this room, kissing her on the bed, touching her, letting her touch them. And there’s nothing anyone can do to stop it. Their fate was sealed on that dance floor.

~From How To Be Liars In Love ch. 6

Oh I get it now. Lucy’s color being blue in the show despite wearing mostly black in the books might be because of the sapphire.

writing sentences and having to pause to pull my shirt over my mouth and scream a little, this is going to be the death of me.

The Secret of the Greenhouse

A little non canon compliant Tabitha fic for Scarlet Hollow.

Tabitha loathes taking care of the…thing in the greenhouse. But with Pearlanne gone she's the only one left to do it.

(Please note: I wrote this before Episode 4 came out and based it on my thoughts on the Goop Teddy fan theory at the time. Now we know what's actually in the greenhouse, so this very much doesn't follow canon. But after @georgiedoesntfloat asked me about my SH fic ideas I couldn't get this one out of my head because I liked the vibes. So here it is, and it's all thanks to Georgie!)

Tabitha wasn’t one to believe something unless she saw it herself. She lived in a world of what was concrete and right in front of her. Yet what was in front of her tested her mightily. It shouldn’t exist, but somehow it did. Now that Pearlanne was gone, it was up to her to deal with this…thing.

Pearlanne told Tabitha about it less than a year ago. Apparently it used to be Teddy Scarlet, who was said to have died in the mine collapse in 1918. For all she knew that was a lie. But she learned long ago to keep such thoughts to herself. Pearlanne had been insistent that she learn how to ‘care’ for it. As if it were some kind of horrible pet.

Ever the dutiful daughter, she listened to what her mother had to say. Though Tabitha was sure Pearlanne left out quite a bit. There were too many missing pieces to the story she was given. Now she would never know the rest. Her mother was dead, and she knew not to trust what it had to say.

You can find the rest here on Ao3!

read the first chapter of How To Go Mad Without Losing Your Mind by La Marr Jurelle Bruce (which i got access to thanks to ismatu gwendolyn’s substack) and i’ve really got to get off my ass and read more mad studies books because it felt like a feast for my brain

There was a place where I used to have to stay. When I was bad.

The little room that was all cold floor. Where I would be alone in the dark for so long that I would miss people. Even though people were bad.

I would sit in the corner and try to think what a soft place would be like. I would lean my head on the wall and.. if I stayed in the same place, the tile would get warm there.

And to sleep I would try to pretend the warm place was... somebody. Like there was such a thing as somebody who would be nice to me.

I thought about that when I got in your bed that night. And you made me comfortable. And you read to me.

And I put my head on you.. and you were warm and soft and nice to me. And I was not alone.

(excerpt from do not cry because I know not everyone reads elmax fic but the sleepover scene torments me and I want to make sure you all suffer too)

"Margaret (of York, Duchess of Burgundy) left Bruges on 24 June and was in England for more than three months. She travelled with a large retinue headed by Guillaume de Baume and the embassy included two officials who were well-known to her, Thomas Plaines and Jean Gros, the treasurer of the Order of the Golden Fleece. She received aides from the Estates to cover her expenses with the Hainault Estates contributing 4,000 livres. Her mission had several goals, but the immediate need was to obtain some military help in the form of English archers to reinforce Maximilian’s hard pressed armies. ... King Edward sent Sir Edward Woodville, the Queen’s younger brother, aboard the royal ship ‘Falcon’ to bring his sister across the Channel. It was twelve years since she had sailed to her marriage. Sir Edward had been part of her marriage party and he had won the honours in the famous joust of the Golden Tree. This time Margaret took the shorter route from Calais to Gravesend, where she was received by Sir John Weston, the Prior of the Knights of St John. She then transferred to a royal barge which had been sent to bring her up the Thames to London. The barge was specially refitted for the occasion. The master and the twenty-four oarsmen had been supplied with new liveries in the Yorkist colours of murrey and blue with white roses embroidered on their jackets. The knights and squires who formed the escort of honour wore fine black velvet jackets which were decorated with a pattern of silver and purple. Two residences had been prepared for Margaret’s use, the palace at Greenwich where she had spent so much time before her marriage, and the London house of Coldharbour near her mother’s home at Baynard’s Castle. New beds with red and green hangings had been sent up to the Coldharbour house and the finest bedlinens and coverlets had been ordered. Curtains, screens and tapestries were provided for both the houses, including a piece of arras which depicted the story of Paris and Helen. For her travel during her stay in England, Margaret was sent ten ‘hobbeys and palfreys’ all newly harnessed and caparisoned in rich saddle cloths. The King encouraged everyone to be generous towards his sister and used ‘right large language’ with the Archbishop of Canterbury who failed to offer Margaret a gift. His own final present to his sister was a luxurious pillion saddle in blue and violet cloth of gold, fringed with ‘Venetian gold’ thread.

While she was in England, Margaret renewed her contacts with all her old friends and family. She was received by the Queen and introduced to her royal nephews and nieces. Her youngest brother Richard, Duke of Gloucester, who was busy dealing with Scottish incursions in the north, made time to come south to see his sister, and the King gave a state banquet at Greenwich in honour of Margaret and their mother, the old Duchess Cecily. It was also attended by Margaret’s sister Elizabeth, Duchess of Suffolk. It seems that Margaret admired the wine, for on the day after the banquet, Edward sent her ‘a pipe of our wine’ valued at 36s 8d. As well as enjoying the company of her living family, Margaret could not have failed to remember all her dead relations. It was perhaps with a chantry in mind that she persuaded Edward to introduce the reformed Order of the Observant Friars into England. Soon after her departure the King sent for the Vicar-General of the Order and offered him a site for their new monastery near to the palace of Greenwich. Building began in 1482 and the abbey chapel was dedicated to the Holy Cross. Was the dedication in honour of Margaret, and does it provide further evidence of her connection with Waltham Abbey? ... Well satisfied that the negotiations were at last completed, Margaret prepared to leave London. She paid a farewell visit to the city where she was presented with a purse containing £100. She then set off for the coast accompanied by her brother Edward who had decided to see her on her way. ... The Dowager passed a week in Kent visiting the shrine of St Thomas à Becket and staying on the private estates of Anthony Woodville, Lord Rivers. These two bibliophiles must have had much in common especially now that Rivers was the patron of Margaret’s former protégé, William Caxton. No doubt she was shown Woodville’s translation of the ‘Dictes and Sayings of the Philosophers’ which was one of the first books printed on Caxton’s press at Westminster. With the King still in attendance, Margaret finally left for Dover, where the ‘Falcon’ waited to take her back to Calais. Edward seemed to be genuinely sad to see her departure and he wrote to Maximilian on 22 September announcing the return of his ‘well-beloved sister’. She left behind her in England Jacques de la Villeon, who was to act as an agent for the Burgundian ally, the Duke of Brittany."

Christine Weightman, "Margaret of York: The Diabolical Duchess"

the faggots and their friends between revolutions by larry mitchell & ned asta

i've not read the book so my mindset when writing coriolanus is "he's just a lil hater"

Running comments/questions I have for @blind-the-winds as I read your TNS Cliffnotes. Ones that were answered as I kept reading have been crossed out

Do you have face claims for either Mick or Eleanor?

Why and how did Mick lose his magic? Why can he use magic when playing the fiddle? Revised question! What does Mick using magic while playing a fiddle look like?

Have you written a fic/scene about Mick and Eleanor meeting for the first time (the running away from her nanny version)? If not, can you? If yes, may I read it 👀

Wait so the last dragons mysteriously disappeared 400 years ago...but Mick is suddenly the leader of the dragons?? where did the dragons go?? where did they come from when they returned??😱

Wondering what you mean when you refer to Mick's and Eleanor's former or current gods/goddesses. are these just gods they personally worship or ? (like why's Eleanor's god not Valfnir and Mick's not Elda - according to their elements)

Is Astrid Eleanor's sister?

what are familiars :) what are adepts :)

ELEANOR WANTS TO IMPLODE INTO A BALL OF MAGIC?? (aka become a Grand Witch) Edit: my girl took a job that wasn't vetted by the Adventurer's Guild she truly is a GREMLIN

I NOW KNOW WHY IT'S CALLED THE NAMELESS SONG AHHH THAT'S SO COOL

What are the negative consequences of using magic? Like can people temporarily run out of magic if they use too much or something? (I wonder bc you mentioned people can store magic in crystals so I'm wondering like...if someone runs out of juice in the middle of a battle do they draw lumina from crystals or? but if lumina is everywhere do people ever actually run out of magic?)

Elda is the queen of the Dawnlights and her champion is the unnamed queen of the whole kindgom, Eldana, which is named after her - am I getting that right?

wip wednesday: hoping to have all the fic revisions up by saturday (long shot tbh) or wednesday!

the physics of sorrow, georgi gospodinov (tr. angela rodel)

WHEN YOU SEE THIS, SHARE 3 RANDOM LINES FROM 3 WIPS

"You can call me Dick." the catboy said, smiling at Damian with his silky black ears canted at an angle as relaxed and friendly as his face.

The sensation wasn’t bad, of Mr. Wayne’s large callused hands rubbing gently against his head, the thick strong fingers threading through his hair as softly as if he was petting some small delicate animal, like a kitten or a baby chick.

“I’m glad you’re here. I mean, not with the circumstances and everything. But it’s great having someone to play against. Bruce thinks ‘Mario Kart’ is some kind of golfcart, and Dickhead hardly ever comes over.” Jason said, as they played the aforementioned game in the downstairs family room.