#millions of years of being carved out by water
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As relentless rains pounded LA, the city’s “sponge” infrastructure helped gather 8.6 billion gallons of water—enough to sustain over 100,000 households for a year.
Earlier this month, the future fell on Los Angeles. A long band of moisture in the sky, known as an atmospheric river, dumped 9 inches of rain on the city over three days—over half of what the city typically gets in a year. It’s the kind of extreme rainfall that’ll get ever more extreme as the planet warms.
The city’s water managers, though, were ready and waiting. Like other urban areas around the world, in recent years LA has been transforming into a “sponge city,” replacing impermeable surfaces, like concrete, with permeable ones, like dirt and plants. It has also built out “spreading grounds,” where water accumulates and soaks into the earth.
With traditional dams and all that newfangled spongy infrastructure, between February 4 and 7 the metropolis captured 8.6 billion gallons of stormwater, enough to provide water to 106,000 households for a year. For the rainy season in total, LA has accumulated 14.7 billion gallons.
Long reliant on snowmelt and river water piped in from afar, LA is on a quest to produce as much water as it can locally. “There's going to be a lot more rain and a lot less snow, which is going to alter the way we capture snowmelt and the aqueduct water,” says Art Castro, manager of watershed management at the Los Angeles Department of Water and Power. “Dams and spreading grounds are the workhorses of local stormwater capture for either flood protection or water supply.”
Centuries of urban-planning dogma dictates using gutters, sewers, and other infrastructure to funnel rainwater out of a metropolis as quickly as possible to prevent flooding. Given the increasingly catastrophic urban flooding seen around the world, though, that clearly isn’t working anymore, so now planners are finding clever ways to capture stormwater, treating it as an asset instead of a liability. “The problem of urban hydrology is caused by a thousand small cuts,” says Michael Kiparsky, director of the Wheeler Water Institute at UC Berkeley. “No one driveway or roof in and of itself causes massive alteration of the hydrologic cycle. But combine millions of them in one area and it does. Maybe we can solve that problem with a thousand Band-Aids.”
Or in this case, sponges. The trick to making a city more absorbent is to add more gardens and other green spaces that allow water to percolate into underlying aquifers—porous subterranean materials that can hold water—which a city can then draw from in times of need. Engineers are also greening up medians and roadside areas to soak up the water that’d normally rush off streets, into sewers, and eventually out to sea...
To exploit all that free water falling from the sky, the LADWP has carved out big patches of brown in the concrete jungle. Stormwater is piped into these spreading grounds and accumulates in dirt basins. That allows it to slowly soak into the underlying aquifer, which acts as a sort of natural underground tank that can hold 28 billion gallons of water.
During a storm, the city is also gathering water in dams, some of which it diverts into the spreading grounds. “After the storm comes by, and it's a bright sunny day, you’ll still see water being released into a channel and diverted into the spreading grounds,” says Castro. That way, water moves from a reservoir where it’s exposed to sunlight and evaporation, into an aquifer where it’s banked safely underground.
On a smaller scale, LADWP has been experimenting with turning parks into mini spreading grounds, diverting stormwater there to soak into subterranean cisterns or chambers. It’s also deploying green spaces along roadways, which have the additional benefit of mitigating flooding in a neighborhood: The less concrete and the more dirt and plants, the more the built environment can soak up stormwater like the actual environment naturally does.
As an added benefit, deploying more of these green spaces, along with urban gardens, improves the mental health of residents. Plants here also “sweat,” cooling the area and beating back the urban heat island effect—the tendency for concrete to absorb solar energy and slowly release it at night. By reducing summer temperatures, you improve the physical health of residents. “The more trees, the more shade, the less heat island effect,” says Castro. “Sometimes when it’s 90 degrees in the middle of summer, it could get up to 110 underneath a bus stop.”
LA’s far from alone in going spongy. Pittsburgh is also deploying more rain gardens, and where they absolutely must have a hard surface—sidewalks, parking lots, etc.—they’re using special concrete bricks that allow water to seep through. And a growing number of municipalities are scrutinizing properties and charging owners fees if they have excessive impermeable surfaces like pavement, thus incentivizing the switch to permeable surfaces like plots of native plants or urban gardens for producing more food locally.
So the old way of stormwater management isn’t just increasingly dangerous and ineffective as the planet warms and storms get more intense—it stands in the way of a more beautiful, less sweltering, more sustainable urban landscape. LA, of all places, is showing the world there’s a better way.
-via Wired, February 19, 2024
#california#los angeles#water#rainfall#extreme weather#rain#atmospheric science#meteorology#infrastructure#green infrastructure#climate change#climate action#climate resilient#climate emergency#urban#urban landscape#flooding#flood warning#natural disasters#environmental news#climate news#good news#hope#solarpunk#hopepunk#ecopunk#sustainability#urban planning#city planning#urbanism
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Pretty Boy
Warnings!!: oral - both fem and male receiving, fingering, teasing, praise
Kurt Wagner was a saint.
He prayed daily for his own sins. He didn’t believe in telling someone he would be praying for them because he had no business in their privacy. To be honest, Kurt didn’t much like to hear the shameless and endless berating against those who did not follow the book of God.
Kurt Wagner took a vow.
He took a vow of celibacy, believing himself to be restrained and would wait until he was wed to give himself to whom he loved. But if he’s being honest with himself, he took such a vow because he never thought he’d get married.
“Look at me,” he’d say, “who would want to devote their life to someone who looks like me?”
You did.
You called Kurt Wagner “the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen”, and from then on, he knew he was fucked.
You showed up like the sun, shining and unexpectedly beautiful. So stunning that Kurt never thought you’d look twice at him.
Let alone be underneath him.
Kurt wanted to do you justice. He pressed his lips against yours with desperation, like a dehydrated man having his first drink of water. It was sloppy at first, because all he wanted to do was touch you. His hands carved out each curve of your skin, memorizing it in his mind like a beautiful painting.
His tail trailed up your dress, which you swore specifically for him. It was his shade of blue, and allowed him a glimpse at your lace underwear when you bent over. You had been teasing the poor boy all day with subtle touches and even trailing his own hand up your dress, teasing your inner thigh underneath the dinner table.
“Kurt. . .” you pleaded, begging for him to touch you. But you made it quite difficult for him today, seeing as he had a raging hard on at dinner and couldn’t get up.
He’d make you beg for it.
“Hmm?” He hummed teasingly against your skin, tracking hot kisses down your neck.
“Kurt, touch me.”
His tail laced itself around your underwear, tugging it down your leg with such slowness that you knew he was doing it on purpose.
“I need you,” your voice was breathless as he brushed his canines against your pulse point.
“Need what, mein schatz? Use your words,” he encouraged softly, gently biting down on your neck whilst grinding his hard on against your sopping wet core.
“Your finger. Please,” his three fingers weren’t normal or human sized, but thicker.
Thick enough to make you wonder how good it could make you feel.
With your underwear at your ankles, his hand began to venture downwards whilst continuing to mark you with his mouth. He had made several impressions upon your neck already, but craved more. He wanted your entire body to be decorated in hickies because they’d remind him that you chose him.
He hissed quietly as he felt you, “Bei Gott, (Y/N). . .all this for me, my love?” You were soaking wet and he dipped a finger inside. You lulled your head back gently, savoring the feeling of his thick and long finger.
Never in a million years did you think Kurt would be such a tease.
He went achingly slow, savoring your walls around his singular digit as it slid in and out with ease. But he knew he wouldn’t last much longer.
Which was where his predicament lied.
He didn’t want to break his vow to God.
So, he’d compromise.
By making you cum in every other way possible.
But god damn, did he want to press his cock inside of you and watch as you two became one.
“Faster, Kurt,” you gasped, and he did as you wished. Working his slender finger into you, seeking out your g-spot whilst his other finger began to gently circle your clit. Your eyes widened gently, hips bucking upwards involuntarily and earning a deep chuckle from Kurt.
“Look at you,” he whispered in awe, “so pretty.”
You mewled at his words, and Kurt watched your pretty pussy before taking his thumb off of your clit. And replaced it with his tongue.
“Kurt!” You gasped unexpectedly, one hand coming down to tangle in his hair. He smirked against you, his tongue tracing circles around your clit before gently taking it into his mouth. You further clenched around his finger, getting closer to that sweet release.
“Taste so sweet, liebling,” he practically moaned against your clit, sucking on it gently whilst working his finger further inside of you.
“Oh fuck,” you cursed, thighs encapsulating his head but he fucking loved it. Your plush thighs around his head, legs quivering with the need for an orgasm made him harder.
If that was even possible.
“So close,” he purred, “cum. Cum on my finger. Let me taste you.”
With a few more pushes and his sweet tongue, you released with a weak cry. He still worked his finger inside of you, drawing out your orgasm and leaving you panting against the bed. He pulled his finger out slowly, licking it in view of your eyes.
That’s when you saw it.
He was straining against his pants, pre-cum soaking the front.
“Kurt,” you whimpered softly, sitting forward. He looked down at you, confused momentarily.
“Are you alri-agh!”
He was extremely sensitive. Once your hand gently wrapped around his cock through his sweats, his eyes shut and his hand wrapped around your wrist as a low moan released.
“You-you don’t have to,” he said. He didn’t care if he had to go jack off later. Well, he did but he knew his vows.
“But I want to,” you pressed, “you made me feel so good. Let me make you cum, baby.”
He was putty in your hands at that point. That small plea paired with your begging eyes led him to sitting on the bed whilst you got on your knees, and he swore this sight was better than the Heavens itself.
His cock sprang free, gently hitting his stomach and he watched as you looked at it. He felt nervous, wondering if maybe you thought it-
A startled moan left his mouth as you dragged your tongue along his shaft. His hands gripped the sheets below him, his citrine eyes staring down at you.
You further pressed on, your lips around his tip and you soon realized just how much he needed this. How much he deserved this. You slowly bob your head, taking him in inch at a time. Your warm mouth alone made him feel like he was already close.
“Zu gut,” he whimpered softly. You pulled back momentarily, deciding to tease him.
“What was that? Use your words, baby."
A strangled moan escaped him as you fully took his cock into your mouth. His hands gripped the sheets tighter, refusing to lay a hand on your pretty head. He didn’t want to make you gag or choke on accident, but he was using every ounce of self restraint.
“Just-just like that, (Y/N),” he was embarrassed but you savoured those precious little sounds coming from him. They were whimpers and soft moans, which encouraged you to deep throat him.
His tail flicked wildly on the bed, twitching every so often when you took him deep.
His eyes rolled back gently, but he didn’t want them to. He wanted to look at your pretty face, your eyes as you graciously took care of him.
“Close, baby?” You questioned, pulling away momentarily. He nodded eagerly, and you laced your hand with his. You licked his tip before taking him back into your mouth, and his hips bucked forward. You gagged slightly at the sudden jump, but it only made you want him more because he was enjoying this so much.
He felt it building, and fast.
“So nah dran. . .” he gasped, his German sounding babbled, “I-I’m close.”
His hand clenched around yours, squeezing as his tail twitched wildly. You felt him cumming quickly, and kept him inside your mouth. He came soon with a weak cry of your name, panting slightly as his cum filled your mouth.
You swallowed, not complaining because his sounds and facial expressions were enough.
“Thank you, mein schatz,” he breathed out, his eyes practically glowing as he wiped your hair from your face.
“I’d do it everyday if it means you keep making pretty sounds,” you responded, earning a purple hue on his cheeks.
But he didn’t oppose.
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Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 24
MEGA WARNING FOR VLAD BEING A CREEP, HUMAN EXPERIMENTATION, NEEDLES, NUDITY, MORE CREEPINESS AND DANNY GETTING SHOT
big thanks to @impyssadobsessions as well as @faerplay for their help with the first scene owo
MASTAPOST
Hazy fog closes around his mind. Danny turns in fits in his sleeping position. The water is cold, the ocean is eerily quiet. His mind is dragged back to a cold room at the bottom of the ocean, even as he claws the ground, unable to remain in the present.
Danny struggles, but his hands are stuck. His legs are tied together. He screams. Nothing comes out. He begs for help. Nobody hears. He cries for his parents to come save him. Nobody comes. Danny is trapped there for a thousand years and will never see the light of day again.
Nobody comes to save him when kind eyes and tender hands enter the room. The voice is sweet, and light, like a fairy god-uncle come to save him. Nobody comes to save him when the hands burned his skin with their touch. Danny’s fins rattle, shooting up straight like goosebumps.
Nobody protects him. Nothing protects him. His bare skin shivers in the cold air of the lab. His skin burns hot. Hot from shame, from disgust and violation. The kind eyes are not kind at all – they stare in hunger as bare and uncovered as his own body. It burns when needles plunge into his skin. It burns when the sigils are carved into his back, only to heal and then be carved again. It burns when the hands caress his cheek and the voice tells him it will be alright.
The voice is lying. It will always be lying.
Danny begs for the scene to go away. He has seen this all before. The room shifts. Red hair sways in the wind. Gunshots fire. Danny runs, but he cannot. He has no legs. He crawls back underneath glaring hatred. The eyes zeroed in on his heart grow. They grow and multiply and there are hundreds now. Hundreds of faces. Some in white suits. Some in brilliant Amani. Some in jumpsuits. Some in child-sized hoodies and jeans.
Danny’s vision shifts between the waking and the dreaming world. Details blend into each other like melting portraits. His lateral line senses Damian a million miles away and also right behind him and inside his guts with a sword. His ears register fictional water rushing, and very real vitriolic words spat out by fifty voices overlapping.
Danny’s eyes were thick with pearlescent slime when the real became fake again and the fake was revealed as the truth. The voices faded away into the background. The quiet of the ocean came back. Nothing like the clinical silence that drove him to tears in…
Danny jumped back. His scales shivered like rats under a microscope. He rubbed his body all over, the brushed it, then ground against his scales. Anything to get rid of the phantom fingers on his body, to get rid of the ghost touches that lingered even months later.
‘You need to ground yourself. Something to anchor your mind to the here and now. Let’s try a grounding exercise together, ok?’ Jazz said, once, when she caught him stumbling around the house at three am, skin matted in cold sweat and eyes wild like a cornered rat.
He saw himself. He saw his white scales and the bones underneath and the millions of nerves and blood vessels that you could only see if you squinted just close enough. And he saw Sam, smiling as she told him it was the most beautiful sight she’d seen in her entire life.
The supplies that he and Damian plundered from the Atlanteans, a chaotic and exciting fight that left him smiling on the inside even as he questioned the kid’s sanity.
He saw Damian inside his makeshift sleeping bag, the boy who had gone through so much pain, and will be forever changed, like Danny. He would not be able to shift like Danny’s half-human body could, nor talk or hide his siren traits perfectly and blend in plain sight. And the tears started again, so Danny forced himself to move on.
He couldn’t say if the grounding technique solved anything. Jazz told him as much. At least he felt alone again. Better than feeling the company of the evillest man he’d ever met.
Danny wiped away the last of the tears. The pearls that beaded up on the floor were swept away into the open ocean, never to be seen again. Better that Damian didn’t have more things to worry about than his failed rescuer failing even further.
The younger siren woke up soon after, shivering violently. He hoped Damian had better dreams. Danny passed another satchel for warmth, but Damian refused to even look at him, or take the thing. They had breakfast together in silence, as Damian rubbed his scales to stave off the cold.
They departed without a hitch. Danny’s cheeks continued to burn white hot, this time with guilt.
Jazz Fenton chanted in her head. ‘Go faster little brother. Please. Don’t stop.’
But it was futile. The radar showed him going too slow. The SAV would catch up to him today. Then they would capture him, and then-
Jazz pulled out all the stops. Every coping technique she could apply, she applied. She clutched Bearbert to her chest like a lifeline, like he was Danny’s lifeline. She took deep breaths and counted to them. She counted things she could see, hear, touch, smell and taste.
There had to be a way out of this.
Jazz turned around only to bump into the massive body of Bruce Wayne. If she didn’t know better she would’ve thought that she’d run into a brick wall.
A hand grabbed hers just as she lost her balance. “Steady there, Jasmine!” Bruce Wayne said.
Shit. The one person she didn’t want to talk to right now.
Jazz schooled her features into polite embarrassment. “Oh, s-sorry Mr Wayne! I didn’t realise you were there!”
For such a large guy, Bruce Wayne was stupidly stealthy. The man waved off her concerns. “There’s no trouble, Jasmine. You look worried. Is something wrong?”
Everything was wrong. Jazz went for a half-truth, something that can misdirect him away from her true feelings. “We’re so close to catching up to Phantom. I just… I want my brother back.”
She did not avert her eyes, but she did maintain eye contact up until the last word, upon which she turned away, and looked out into the window. Excessive eye contact was a tell for liars. Avoidance would make her suspicious. She had to maintain a balance.
Bruce Wayne leaned out the window beside her, and she almost screamed. Goddammit! Take a hint and fuck off already!
He took a deep long sigh. “So do I.”
Jazz counted the seconds until it was polite enough to leave. However, part of her was curious. “What was your disagreement with mom and dad about last night?” She said carefully.
Bruce Wayne rubbed the back of his neck. She had a gut feeling it was fake, but couldn’t prove it. “Well, as your mother said, we were just having a… discussion about Phantom’s fate.”
Jazz tightly grasped her tone and timbre, not letting her voice betray anything. “And what do you think we should do with him?”
The man sighed. “In all honesty, I don’t know. He needs to face justice for his actions, but how that will be conducted, I don’t know.”
Jazz’s chest heaved. For all his talk, Bruce Wayne was only less blood thirsty than her parents. That he was sympathetic to the sirens had no evidence. She was foolish to even think so last night.
But maybe he can be swayed, just as he swayed her parents?
“It’s not like you can put him in jail.” Jazz muttered.
“There are plenty of metahumans and other supernatural species in prisons. I should know. I helped fund their rehab programs.” Bruce Wayne’s tone was also even, like he was testing her.
“The GiW doesn’t have jurisdiction over metahumans and other supernatural creatures.”
“You’re afraid for him.”
Jazz’s heart rate spiked. No, no, she had to keep a handle on the situation. Do not catastrophise. Do not catastrophise. “You believe in rehabilitation, don’t you?”
“It’s all I ever dream of, for my city.”
“Is vivisection included in your plans for bringing criminals back into society?”
Bruce Wayne’s expression hardened by a fraction, something she only noticed from intensely studying his face as she spoke. “It isn’t.”
“What do us normal people do when the bodies trusted to dispense justice misuse their powers?” Jazz’s voice sharpened. “After capturing Phantom, and getting Danny and Damian back, what kind of justice can be dispensed that doesn’t involve humans performing the most inhuman punishments imaginable?”
Bruce Wayne’s eyes narrowed. Jazz felt seen through. Shit. She spoke too much.
“You don’t agree with your parents on sirens, do you?”
Jazz straightened her back, using her father’s genes to stand only a head shorter than the towering man. She stared straight up at his eyes, unwavering. “That was always clear. The real question is: do you?”
Bruce Wayne said nothing.
The day passed by without Danny even noticing. The sun began to sink into the horizon. It was probably about four pm or something now. Thankfully, the ocean’s surface wasn’t as populated with obstacles as your average road, or else Danny would’ve crashed many times already. He fought to keep his eyes open. After all that had happened, he felt so, so tired.
He looked to the moon for guidance. Apparently lots of more isolated tribes worshipped the moon. He could see why. It was vital for its role in creating the tides.
He always dreamed of walking on the moon. Fat chance of that happening now. Would it even listen to him if he prayed?
Danny nudged Damian with his shoulder. “You know, I’ve been told there are lots of sirens that worship the moon. Ain’t that neat?”
Damian buried his face into the crook of his green-scaled arm.
“Maybe we should say a prayer. I’m not a very religious guy, but maybe someone will listen?”
Danny tried a few more times to get a response out of Damian, but he was stone-walled out each time.
“D-Damian. Please. I know what’s happening to you is horrible, and I’m sorry I haven’t been helping as much as I should. But I genuinely didn’t know about your voice. You have to believe me. I-I-I was raised alone. I’ve barely known any other sirens in my life.”
Damian sniffed. Was he crying?
“Damian?”
Engines sounded in the distance. Danny’s blood went coat.
He turned around, and his worst fears were confirmed. His heart rate spiked. On the horizon, two jets skis closed in. Their speed and power blasted water into the air in their wake. He could recognise his mother’s red hair anywhere, but his heart spiked when he spotted Bruce Wayne on the other speeder.
“Father.” Damian whispered.
Danny went full throttle. He pulled Damian to his chest, ignoring the boy writhing to get out of his grasp. No. He couldn’t let his parents get their hands on Damian. How could he have been so careless?! Of course Bruce Wayne would talk to the ‘siren experts’ in town.
Hydroplasm rays pierced the surface of the water. Danny swerved to the side as one sailed where his head had just been. He jumped out of the water as another two almost hit their mark. Shit. All this dodging was slowing him down, and his pursuers got ever closer.
“What are you doing?! My father is right there!” Damian shouted, the loudest he’d been in over 24 hours. “Release me right this moment!”
“He’s with the Fentons!” Danny yelled back. A shot struck him in the back. Danny screamed. Tears formed in his eyes. “He won’t recognise you!”
“I must try! I can communicate with him in writing!” Damian redoubled his efforts to escape Danny’s hold.
“Are you insane!? The Fentons will put you on a dissection table before you can try such a thing.”
“Father would never allow it!”
“They’ll kill you!”
“Phantom!” Came Bruce Wayne’s voice booming through a megaphone. “Stand down now, and we can do this the easy way!”
“See?! My father is not a violent man!”
“It’s not your father I’m worried about!” It just came slipping out.
His mom’s voice came next. “You get back here Phantom and you will tell me what you did to my baby boy Danny or I will rip you apart. Molecule by fucking molecule!”
Danny’s blood froze again. Damian ripped himself out of Danny’s arms. The boy emerged from the water, arms raised in a sign of surrender. “Damian!” He shouted. Shit. Shit shit shit. His mother aimed a gun right at Damian’s heart. Damian’s eyes widened. He turned around in an instant. Danny never swam faster in his life.
Seconds dragged into minutes. His mom pulled the trigger. Bruce Wayne yelled. “Maddie! Stop!”
Danny snatched Damian away. A weighted net launched at dizzying speeds. Danny just barely avoided its trajectory. One of the weights slammed into his tailfin and pain shot up.
The distraction rewarded him with a shot to the arm. With one arm clutching Damian and the other in pain, he could barely swim. The speedboats surrounded them. Danny’s breath hitched. He tried to flip himself and descend, but he only managed half a meter before another net ensnared his body.
He felt a prick on his neck, and Danny’s vision went dark. The last thing he saw was his beloved mother’s cold, calculating eyes.
His skin burnt. He felt naked again.
#dpxdc#danny fenton#damian wayne#dcxdp#merman#merboy#angst#mermaid au#mega angst#no comfort#jazz fenton#bruce wayne#vlad masters#nightmare#nudity#human experimentation#non-consensual body modification#transformation#mermaid transformation#mer!danny#mer!damian wayne#content warning
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you can stay | l.fl x reader
Emotion's running high
My hands planted on your thighs
You feel me going up and down
And round and round and round
❅ felix x reader
❅ prompt: “I’ve decided we’re not leaving this bed.” “Okay but, what if I get hungry?” “Well, I’d feed you, then take you back to bed with me. Does that sound alright?”
❅ wc: 1k (90 words over)
❅ warnings: fluff - smut - kissing - dirty talk - pet name (doll) - riding - needy/whiny Felix - unprotected sex - romeo & juliet reference
❅ a/n: written for Merry Chaosdays 1K Follower Event, requested by @jjungkookislife. B!!! thank you for keeping me busy. I have enjoyed your requests so much. I hope you enjoy this new year and thank you for being a friend! also, please excuse my poor attempt at humor...i'm bad at it lol
❅ lyrics from makin' good love by avant
❅ fuzzy line, bows, mdni and support dividers made by @benkeibear
❅ send in your own requests here
It was late. A little after midnight when your phone chimed and lit up the darkness of your room. You had just turned off your laptop for the night and decided to head to bed but the chime was set for only one person. You couldn’t ignore a text from your loving boyfriend knowingly before bed. Rolling over to your side, you reached out and grabbed your phone from the nightstand beside you. As you lifted the phone, the screen lit up and you cursed as the brightness blinded you for a moment. Blinking a few times, you read the message.
Lix: U up?
You rolled your eyes and tapped the notification before you responded to his text, letting him know that you just got into bed.
Lix: Look out the window?
You raised an eyebrow at how quickly he texted you back. You were sure that Felix was out of town at an award show. Sighing, you glanced at the window in your room. You have a great view of the town you lived in and you could see rooftops all covered in snow. You shivered at the thought of the cold. You really didn’t want to get out of bed and you told Felix as much.
Lix: Please 🥺
Huffing you climbed out of bed and whined as your feet touched the plush carpet and not your house slippers. You must have left them over at your desk. Standing, you grabbed your phone and clutched it to your chest as you made your way over to the window. Peaking out, you saw nothing, just the vast whiteness of the snow and the large tree from your childhood that stood proud in the yard. You squinted and looked around, in the middle of your lawn, you saw something that wasn’t there before. A heart was carved into the snow and it made you smile for a second before you clicked your tongue. Pushing open the window, you hung halfway out as you scanned your yard.
“Ya! Get in the window, crazy!”
You looked right below your window and your eyes widened. Standing there in all his glory was your boyfriend, Felix. He looked like a prince with how he was dressed. A cream, white and gold outfit with a matching jacket thrown over his shoulders. His blond hair was parted down the middle and tucked behind his ears while his long bangs framed his face.
“O Felix, Felix! Wherefore art thou Felix?”
You heard his snickering from down below and giggled to yourself.
“Deny thy father and refuse thy name;
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
And I’ll no longer be a commoner.”
“Oi!” Felix shouted as you stared down at him from above. “I am in love with such a commoner!”
You watched unblinking as Felix started to scale the tree out front of your window. It was something he had done a million times before but you never saw him do it while dressed so nicely or in the snow. As he reached the tree branch that hung close to your window, Felix grinned as he sat on top of it.
“Fair maiden, are you gonna let me in or naur?”
You backed away from the window and held your breath and Felix climbed into your room. The moment his shoes touched the floor, the snow started to melt and form a small puddle on the floor. Felix shook his head, water droplets from the snow flying everywhere. You screamed and Felix giggled before he took his shoes and jacket off. You quickly closed the window and turned to face Felix with your arms crossed over your chest. Now standing before you in his socks, Felix wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close; his eyelashes dark against his beautiful freckles.
“Hey, love.”
Warmth sank into your heart as Felix rested his forehead against yours and stared into your eyes. You unfolded your arms and draped them over his shoulders, how could you ever be mad at this man? Felix grinned and brushed his nose lightly against yours before his lips captured yours in a tender kiss. Your hands found their way to his hair and Felix groaned as you pulled at his roots, taking steps backwards towards your bed. Layer after layer was peeled from Felix and your body. Your breath came out in pants, warm and hot as Felix’s fingers dug into your skin and held you close.
Felix let you push him onto the bed, his member flushed and hard against his stomach. He licked his lips and moaned as he watched you crawl onto the bed, your eyes darkened by the need to have him underneath you. Straddling his lap, you teased the head of his leaking cock, rolling your hips and letting it slide between your wet folds.
“Oi, don’t be a tease now doll.”
You smirked at Felix’s words and fisted the base of his cock, holding him in place as you sunk down.
“Fuuuuck!” Felix’s moan vibrated underneath you and his hands started to rub up and down your thighs, gripping your ass and squeezing your hips. “Look so pretty riding me.” He hissed as your walls tightened around him and threw his head back into the pillows. So much of his neck was exposed and your mouth started to water. What a nice canvas to work with. Leaning forward, you nipped at Felix’s throat and he smacked your ass in warning. You knew better than to leave visible marks, but it still was fun to tease him.
“I’ve decided we’re not leaving this bed.” You whispered in his ear, taking the lob between your teeth lightly.
Felix shuttered and turned his head to look at you with wide eyes. His face was flushed, his chest heaving as he tried to understand your words. Giggling, you pressed a sweet kiss to his lip and started to bounce on his dick.
“O-Okay but, what if -” Felix whimpered as your nails sunk into the skin of his chest. “I-I get hungry?”
The question caught you off guard and you stopped moving. Felix blinked up at you with wet eyes and you cooed, stroking his face with the back of your hand. “Well…” You tap your chin in mock thought. “I’d feed you, then take you back to bed with me. Does that sound alright?”
Felix nodded his head quickly and pulled you into a heated kiss, “Yes, doll. Sounds good. N-Now fuck yourself on my cock.”
#felix fic#felix x reader#felix smut#fic: you can stay#soc felix#1k follower event#merry chaosday event
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𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐋𝐘 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒 [𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄] — 𝐀𝐋𝐘𝐂𝐈𝐀 𝐃𝐄𝐁𝐍𝐀𝐌-𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐘
one / two / four / five / masterlist / wattpad
summary: it's four years into your relationship with Alycia but you're still not on the best terms with her parents, so you're forced to spend a week at their mansion and grow closer. Of course, it's not so easy when her dad hates you.
warning/s: none.
author's note: here’s part three, hope someone reading likes it haha. also i’m trying out a new layout for my imagines with hopes it’ll speed up putting it together on tumblr (as i copy it over from wattpad and have to format it which is annoying lol) - feel free to let me know what you think or if you prefer the old layout! :)
Four years later...
"I'm still not too sure about this, Alycia."
Alycia looked at me and raised an eyebrow playfully. Her blue-green eyes were practically bursting with amusement, and she obviously found my discomfort hilarious, as usual.
"For the millionth time," she said, and she wasn't exaggerating, "it will be okay! They know we've been together for a few years now, and they know that you mean a lot to me, so stop panicking!"
As always, I nodded and released a breath I was unaware I was holding. Despite having met Alycia's family a few times before, I was still nervous because this time was different. It wasn't a meal at night and then say goodbye, it was staying for a week and getting to know them better. Sounds easy, right?
Wrong.
Not only were her parents insanely intimidating, but they were also loaded with millions of dollars, and they didn't seem to like me very much.
"Miss Debnam-Carey, we have arrived," the driver from the front of the car informed Alycia.
Yeah, a driver. Her parents sent for someone in a car (that probably cost more than all of my belongings put together) to pick Alycia and I up. All through the journey, I had been freaking out internally and failing to hide it on the outside.
"You ready?"
It took me a moment to realise that Alycia was talking to me. I looked to her, and the humour that was painted on her face throughout the whole journey was gone and replaced with reassurance.
"As ready as one can be when they are about to epically embarrass themselves in front of their loved one's parents."
Her adorable giggle echoed in the backseat of the car as the vehicle came to a halt. "I got you, Y/N. Don't worry."
The door to my right was opened by the driver, who had stepped out of the car without me noticing. I took a deep breath before stepping out of the vehicle. Only for my jaw to drop. Their house was beautiful.
Or should I say mansion.
The whatever-it-was was huge, spreading across a large amount of land. Only in front of me I could see a white, stone-carved fountain that was spouting crystal blue water, which was obviously artificially enhanced but beautiful nonetheless. Around the fountain was a cobbled pathway that led to the front door and around the driveway. Surrounding the mansion was acre after acre of empty land, being used for various rich-people activities.
If this was what the front of the grand house looked like, how did the rest look?
I felt someone's hand push my jaw close and I looked to my left to see that humoured grin on Alycia's beautiful face again. "Don't want to catch flies now, do we?"
I rolled my eyes but smiled, already feeling better knowing that she was still the same old Alycia I had fallen in love with. Despite the millions her parents owned.
"Come on," she said with a smile, lacing her fingers through mine and tugging me to her side a little. "I'll show you around."
—
"And that's the golf course," she finished, releasing my hand and looking to me with a bright smile. "What do you think?"
Alycia had shown me around the whole of her home and it was pretty hard for me to stay sane when her mansion of a home was freakin' beautiful. The amount of facilities that she had was unbelievable and it only made me realise how much harder this visit would be.
"It's amazing, Alycia," I responded, smiling weakly. "This is going to be an awesome week."
She smiled at my response, but when she saw the worry in my eyes, her smile faded away and she grabbed my hand once again. "Y/N, what did I tell you about worrying?"
"To only do it when I'm worrying about whether there's a ghost living in our flat?"
She sighed and cracked a smile, knowing humour was my defence mechanism to hide my feelings. "I never said that."
I scoffed. "I mean, have you seen the way our doors keep swinging close without anyone touching them?"
"Y/N–"
"Like, seriously. I'll literally be on the other side of the room and bang! The door shuts–"
"Y/N–"
"–and I'll spend the whole day wondering if somebody previously died in that place or if I'm just losing my mind–"
I got cut off when I felt a soft pair of lips press against mine. It was only short, but boy was it amazing. Alycia pulled away and laughed at my expression, which probably resembled a younger me getting my first kiss off Alycia a few years ago.
"You really need to quit babbling sometimes," she said, knowingly, patting my cheek with her hand.
"Sorry," I mumbled, taking her hand and kissing it gently. "I'm just being stupid. I promise I'll act normal now."
She shrugged and grabbed my hand, leading me back to the house. "If you say so, but you can't act like something you aren't."
It took me a few seconds to realise what she'd said since it was said so casually, but when I did, I gasped and looked at her, feigning offence.
"I'm kidding," she said in between laughter. "Sort of."
I waved my hand dismissively. "Oh, okay. That's fine. I guess I'll be sort of kidding when I tickle you!"
"Y/N, don't," she warned me, losing her amusement, and when I took a step forward, she backed up. Green eyes fixed on mine and she repeated, "Don't."
I quirked a brow, resisting the urge to smile. "Don't what, darling?"
It was silent between us, her not moving a muscle as she waited for me to dare make a move. All it took was for me to step forward and she yelped before running away.
"Alycia!" I shouted, chasing after her, but damn she was fast.
She kept looking back every so often to make sure I was far enough from her, so I ran that extra bit faster, closing in on her until we finally reached the house. Running inside, she was out of sight and I immediately slowed down upon entering the main atrium.
Too uncomfortable to be alone in someone else's house, let alone a rich person's house, I forgot what I was doing and tried to swallow down my nerves.
"Alycia!" I whisper-shouted, eyes scanning the space to try and find her. "Where are you?" The uneasiness settled in when there was no sign of her. "Alycia!"
Just when I was about to give up and ring her, I felt someone jump on my back and I automatically caught their legs, holding them upright instinctively.
"Hey, loser," Alycia's voice said into my ear, sending uncontrollable shivers down my neck. She leaned down further and kissed me on my cheek.
I craned my neck so that I could see her face, only to see that annoyingly attractive smirk on her lips all over again. "You're actually so annoying. Why am I even with you?"
She laughed it off. "'Cause you love me, duh!"
"Sure I do," I mumbled, before looking around.
She had shown me around earlier, so I remembered seeing a couch to the side which gave me an idea.
"Giddy up, horsie!" Alycia shouted, whilst patting me on the back simultaneously.
I smirked and walked forward, towards the couch. "I'll show you just how much I love you, Alycia."
She didn't respond, but I could sense her confusion. I headed towards the couch and turned around so that my back was facing it. She eventually realised what I was going to do and tried to jump off me, but I sat down before she could escape.
"Get off!" she ordered, trying to escape from my weight of a body that was currently crushing her and preventing her from standing up.
I purposely pressed myself down on her even more and laughed at her helpless struggling. "I just love you so much, Alycia. I can't help but be close to you!”
Her body was shuffling about beneath me and I could hear her whimpers as she tried to shove me off, but she wasn't strong enough. I thought she would give up, but instead, she began to use her hands, ruffling my hair and slapping my face with them.
"Not–" slap, "so–" slap, "funny–" slap, "now–" slap, "–is it?" she asked between laughter, making me squeeze my eyes close as she slapped me wherever she could.
Even without turning around, I could already imagine the obnoxious smirk adorning her lips.
I stood back up to get away from her, but she clung onto me from behind and began to slap my face again. I tried running away from her, but she wouldn't let go, her arms and legs clinging to me like a koala.
"Alycia! Let–" I tried prying her off me, but it wasn't working. "–go!"
"Then say–" she smacked my forehead, "–you love me!"
We were both as stubborn as each other, so the next minute consisted of Alycia smacking me and clinging to me, and myself trying to pry her off but failing miserably. We were so caught up in annoying each other that we didn't even realise we had an audience.
"Ahem," someone cleared their throat on purpose.
Alycia and I paused and turned to the left, only to see Mr and Mrs Debnam-Carey standing there with raised eyebrows. I looked back to Alycia and saw her mid-smacking my face, and I didn't look any better as I attempted to throw her off me. Oh, God.
"This looks a lot worse than it is." I laughed awkwardly, letting Alycia down off my back gently.
"Mum, dad!" Alycia yelled happily, immediately running to both of her parents and embracing them in a tight, loving hug.
They returned the hug, but their eyes were studying me up and down over her shoulder, and I couldn't help but feel uncomfortable under their gaze. Talk about bad timing.
"You guys know Y/N," Alycia introduced as she motioned to me.
I stepped forward and Alycia grabbed my hand, squeezing it gently for reassurance. She sent a hopeful smile my way and I felt the majority of my nerves die down. Her smile always made me feel ten times better; she had a certain power to make me feel good, and I loved her for it.
"Lovely to meet you both again," I greeted her parents, smiling nervously. I put my right hand out and they both shook it.
"You, too, Y/N," her mum responded, smiling a little. "We're glad you could join us for the week. It'll be good to be able to get to know each other properly."
I nodded in agreement. The reason I'd been with Alycia for so long and not gotten to know her parents as much is because it took her a long time to feel comfortable enough to introduce me, and when she did, I got the vibe that her parents didn't like me as much. It had been really difficult to 'befriend' them, if you will, which is why they invited me over for the week.
"Has Alycia shown you around the house?" her dad asked, seeming as if he were ready to snap his fingers and have someone give me a full-blown tour. Which to be honest, he probably could.
I nodded again. "Uh, yeah. You both have a lovely home by the way."
They smiled kindly and nodded their heads as a thank you. I internally relaxed, glad that I'd said the right thing. So far, so good.
"I'm sure Alycia can show you where you're both staying," her mum explained. "You can freshen up and then you'll be joining us for dinner tonight. We're having lamb. Sound good?"
"Yeah," I said with a nod, before smiling. "Thanks."
They smiled my way before leaving the main atrium. When they left, I let out a deep breath that I wasn't even aware I was holding.
"You looked like you were about to combust into thin air," Alycia noted aloud, an amused smile on her lips. "You okay?"
I flashed her a small smile. "Perfect."
—
Dinner rolled around quickly enough, too quick for my liking. The rest of the afternoon was spent with Alycia and I unpacking and messing about in our room, which was huge by the way. It was beautiful, though, especially with its balcony that overlooked one of the many grounds that the Debnam-Careys owned.
"So Y/N," Alycia's mother began after we had all dug into our meals and awkward small talk was made. "What have you been up to lately? You're doing a teaching degree at university, right?"
I was surprised to know that she actually remembered from our last chat which was a pretty long time ago, but nodded nonetheless.
"Uh, yeah. It's going well. It's kept me pretty busy, but I know I'll achieve something at the end of it, so I don't mind."
"Not too busy to keep Alycia happy, though, right?" her dad teased playfully, though I could tell that he genuinely wanted to know. I always got this vibe that he didn't like me as much, at least compared to her mum.
His comment caused Alycia to flush with embarrassment and sink lower into her seat to avoid being seen, though it made no difference.
I chuckled and glanced at Alycia, lacing our fingers together underneath the table. "Alycia's happiness will always be my top priority," I spoke with sincerity, smiling at the embarrassed Australian beside me.
Neither of her parents responded, but when I looked back at them, her mum was smiling as she looked between us. I wish I could say the same for her dad, but he was studying me like a battle plan, detecting whether I would make the right or wrong move in the future. And so returned my nerves...
"How is your company doing?" I asked them both, hoping to make good conversation and not say anything wrong. "I heard its picked up quite a bit recently. There was that new TV advertisement, right?"
The Debnam-Careys were rich because of their world-renowned summer camps, ironically where Alycia and I first met and she tried to pretend it was her aunt who owned it. It was their number one achievement, I had learnt, and sometimes I was sure that they were more proud of that than they were of Alycia, but I never said anything because it wasn't any of my business.
Alycia's mum finished chewing her food and nodded her head, saying, "It's definitely getting more popular. The advert helped, yes."
I nodded and tried to think of something else to ask or say, but I didn't know what. And all whilst I was trying to think, a good two minutes had passed, it being full of an awkward, uncomfortable silence. And this is exactly what I was dreading.
The whole meal was filled with random small conversations that soon ended with silences, and it was the most uncomfortable thing I had ever had to endure. So, you can imagine how happy I was when it was over.
"They hate me," I repeated for the millionth time, all whilst pacing up and down in Alycia and I's bedroom. "I probably looked like some boring person who has no interests."
Alycia sighed from where she was sat at the edge of the bed, and ran her hands through her hair. "You always overthink things, Y/N. It wasn't as bad as you're making it out to be."
I paused and looked to her with a raised eyebrow. "Are you kidding me? The highlight of the evening was you dropping your fork under the table, only to drop my fork under the table too."
She chuckled and stood up, moving closer to me and taking my hands in hers. "I only did that so I could talk to you under the table."
"I know." I cracked a smile. "And I appreciate the mini pep talk you gave me."
She did that cute smile she does, where her nose scrunched up and her eyebrows furrowed together, and I felt the need to lean in and give her a small but tender kiss on the lips. It certainly took her by surprise, and when I pulled away, she smiled at me with confusion.
"What was that for?"
I moved a piece of hair from her eyes and smiled down at her. "I don't really tell you enough, but I appreciate you a lot."
She chuckled gently. "I love you too, you idiot."
I rolled my eyes playfully, not bothering to explain what I meant. Instead, I leaned in again and kissed her, appreciating the way she relaxed and began to kiss me back. I was certain I'd never get tired of her lips against mine.
—
"You're kidding me, right?"
Alycia laughed and shook her head. "Honestly, I'm not."
I raised both of my eyebrows at her, still not believing a word she was saying. "You've got to be joking! You're seriously telling me that you and your parents did this 'afternoon tea' every single day for three years?"
Alycia nodded and took a sip of her tea. "Between the ages of 9 to 11. They believed it was the key to developing my social skills." She bit her lip as she thought to herself, before adding, "Evidently that didn't work since I'm super awkward with people I don't know, but yeah."
I couldn't help but laugh at her seriousness. We'd been here two days and Alycia had invited me to 'afternoon tea' with her and her parents. Of course, they'd said they were going to be a little late, so Alycia and I got started as they'd wished.
Honestly? It was a little weird, but the little cakes were delicious and Alycia's table etiquette was a sight to see, so this was all worth it.
I wasn't really sure how Alycia's parents felt about me at the moment to be honest. It had only been two days and yet they still made no effort to show me what they were thinking. Alycia assured me that was just their personality, but I wasn't so sure...
"Oh, look, my parents are here," Alycia pointed out, her eyes on the door.
I followed her line of sight, looking to the door on the side of their house (mansion) that led outside where we were sat, overlooking one of their many well-kept gardens. She was right – her parents were here, but they weren't alone.
"Erm, who's that?" I asked, quietly, so only Alycia would hear me. There was a random man stood trailing behind her parents as they approached the table we were sat at.
Alycia was smiling on the outside as the two of us stood up, but I could see the confusion in her eyes. "Not gonna lie, Y/N. I have no idea."
I wasn't really liking where this was going, especially since Alycia was as clueless as I was, but nonetheless, I plastered a smile on my lips and watched as the three figures stopped by the table.
"Ah, girls, sorry we're late," her father apologised, and honestly, I'd never seen him look so happy in the whole time I'd met him. Something wasn't right. "I was waiting for Clayton."
At this comment, he patted the guy's – I guess, Clayton's – back, causing them both to chuckle. The guy was pretty tall, young, handsome, well-dressed... well, shit, I definitely wasn't liking where this was going.
"Sweetie, sorry we're late," Alycia's mum apologised to her, and when she looked my way, I felt like she was apologising to me too, but rather more for what was about to go down. Shit, shit, shit.
"It's fine," Alycia got out, keeping up her smile. She spared Clayton a glance before meeting her father's eyes. "I thought it was just us for tea, dad?"
Her father merely shrugged before motioning to Clayton. "Yes, but I bumped into Clayton here yesterday and thought he'd make a great addition to this event! You remember Clayton, right, sweetie?"
Alycia's forced smile was slowly being replaced with a look of confusion. Meanwhile, I was awkwardly rocking back and forth on my heels and trying not to think about what was happening.
"Charlie and Maggie's boy," her dad explained. "Remember?"
Alycia still seemed lost, and as each second passed, I was slowly losing my mind.
"We were in primary school together," Clayton spoke, a smile on his lips. "We had Miss Penny together?"
Alycia narrowed her eyes as she studied him, attempting to put two and two together. "Clayton... Clayton... wait, I think I– Clay? The kid who had that massive nosebleed in the school play?"
Clayton chuckled awkwardly, looking down to his shoes. "That was– yeah, that was me.
Alycia stifled a laugh as she nodded. "Wow, it's been a long time. I guess, how have you been?"
"Good! Good...," he said cheerfully. I wanted to fall asleep right now, that's how dry this conversation was. "I'm actually in the estate agency business now."
"Oh, really?"
"Yeah..."
"Pretty big step up from primary school, eh?" I joked as I tried to make myself present, only to cringe internally at my choice to speak because literally everyone looked my way. The only person who didn't have daggers in her eyes, excluding Alycia, was Alycia's mother. She looked like she was amused, if anything.
"Erm, this is my girlfriend, Y/N Y/L/N," Alycia introduced me. "Y/N, this is–"
"Clayton from primary school, I got that," I cut her off, smiling dryly. Thankfully, nobody got offended, but Alycia did send me a confused stare.
"Girlfriend...?" Clayton seemed surprised, but he overcame that pretty quickly as he smiled in my direction. "Nice to meet you, (your name pronounced wrong)–"
"It's Y/N," I corrected him through gritted teeth and a fake smile.
"Right," he did the same. "Sorry."
There was an awkward, tension-filled silence in the air as Clayton checked out Alycia pretty obviously. I didn't bother hiding the glare I was sending him.
"So, shall we get started?" Alycia's dad asked rhetorically, clapping his hands together.
I clenched my jaw as I looked between them both. I didn't think I could stand sitting through a bloody afternoon tea with this guy. God help me.
—
"...and so I knew I had to buy the car off him," Clayton was telling another one of his boring stories as I sipped from my tea. "It holds too many good memories to simply let go of!"
Alycia's dad chuckled like he'd said the funniest thing in the world whilst Alycia and her mum smiled politely. I wanted to leave. I hated it here and it was very obviously why Alycia's dad had invited Clayton here in the first place. Clayton was just as I expected him to be – rich, boring and ogling my girlfriend – and there was nothing I could do except sit and put up with it.
All tea time, Alycia's dad was asking Clayton questions about his life, whilst trying to involve Alycia and engage them both in conversation. Not once had I been spoken to, unless you counted the few times Alycia tried to involve me with an apologetic look in her eyes. So, I hated it here. And I wanted to leave.
"I've actually bought the car with me if you want to see it," Clayton said to Alycia's dad. "It's parked out front. A wonder, really."
"Oh, how exciting!" he exclaimed, before looking to Alycia. "Why don't we go and take a look?"
Alycia quirked a brow, trying to remain polite. "As much as I'd love that, I'm actually a little tired. I think Y/N and I might go upstairs to relax a little."
Yes, yes, yes. We can leave!
"I'm sure Y/N won't mind if you meet her up there, right, Y/N?" her dad asked, looking to me, before saying to Alycia, "It'll only be a moment, darling, c'mon. Clayton is a guest. We can see him off also."
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, but said, "It's fine, Alycia, I'll see you after. Your father is right. You should see off your guest.”
Even saying it aggravated me, but the sooner she went, the sooner Clayton would be gone and the sooner I wouldn't have to see him again.
"Very well," Alycia agreed reluctantly, before standing up. "Shall we?"
We all stood up and I was relieved when I walked in a different direction to them, instead going upstairs to our room to collapse on the bed and mentally switch off.
I'd love to say that that was the last I ever saw of Clayton, but it wasn't.
The next morning, when I thought I was going to eat breakfast with my girlfriend in peace, we came downstairs to find Clayton in the kitchen chatting with Alycia's parents. There was an assortment of muffins and pastries in a basket next to them and I instantly where this was going.
"Alycia, my dear, good morning!" her father said with a smile, stretching out his arm to hug her.
She was as confused as I looked, but hugged her father. "Morning, dad. What's all this?" Glancing at Clayton, she nodded. "Clay, hi."
"Clayton here thought he'd stop by to surprise us with breakfast," her dad explained. "Isn't that thoughtful?"
"Sure is...," Alycia agreed awkwardly.
"Your dad said chocolate croissants are your favourites, so there's a few in there for you," Clayton added with a smile, and the way he was staring at her was enough to make me want to throw up, but I simply stared daggers into his head instead.
"I really appreciate it," Alycia said kindly, "but Y/N and I were actually going to head out for breakfast."
At this, everyone looked to me and I was so used to being ignored in that moment that I suddenly felt nervous.
"It was very nice of you to get the muffin basket though," I said uncomfortably. "Looks like some... great options."
Just kill me now.
"Right... well, Clayton is going to be hanging about here today. We're talking business. So, if you're up for a good old catch up, you know where to find him," Alycia's father said to her.
"I will, dad, thanks," Alycia said with a small smile, before approaching me.
I nodded at him before letting Alycia drag me out of there. Only when we were gone did she stop to look at me apologetically.
"I had no idea he was going to be here again," she said guiltily. "I don't know what my dad is up to, but it's certainly not fair on you."
I shrugged uncomfortably. "I knew he didn't like me, but this is a little weird."
"I'll talk to him," Alycia promised, cupping my face and finding my eyes with hers. "He shouldn't be doing this."
I nodded, not sure I could do much else other than agree, and she pulled me in for a tight hug before letting go.
"Breakfast's on me," she promised, kissing my hand. "Let's go."
—
So, whatever chat Alycia had with her father didn't seem to do the job.
Later that same day, I was lounging around and watching TV by myself whilst Alycia was supposed to be hanging around with her mum. But when I finally got up to find her, hoping to join them to cure my boredom, I couldn't seem to locate either of them. And it definitely didn't help that the Debnam-Careys residence was too large for me to search without an inkling to where they could be.
I tracked down one of the staff members, finding the nearest one and hoping they could help. She was a young-ish girl, older than me but still younger than the other staff here, and seemed friendly enough.
"Sorry to bother you, but have you seen Alycia anywhere?" I asked.
"Oh, yeah, she's out horse riding," the girl answered with a smile.
Barely remembering where she could be doing that since Alycia's tour had already flown from my mind, I asked the staff member, "Thank you. Sorry, what's your name?"
"Millie," she quipped, before suppressing a laugh when she saw my confusion. "Do you need directions to the field?"
I smiled sheepishly. "Am I that obvious?"
She chuckled before saying, "It's just outside. Walk past the shed over there–" She pointed her finger out of the doors from the dining room, "–and it's the one on your left. You won't miss her."
I sighed with relief. "Cheers, Millie. You're a lifesaver."
She nodded. "Anytime."
Following her instructions, I headed outside and tried not to get lost amongst the greenery. Just when I was on track, I turned to the left and indeed found the correct space where Alycia was horse riding. I began to smile as I approached, but then I stopped when I saw she was with Clayton. What the hell was he still doing here?
Her father was there too, watching from the sidelines, but my eyes were glued to Alycia who was sat on her horse as Clayton sat on his, the two of them side by side and chatting with smiles on their faces. I knew Alycia probably got dragged into entertaining him by her father – she had an inability to say no to her parents, I'd noticed. And I also knew that she didn't like Clayton like that, but it still stung a little to see them together.
Despite her wealth and class, she'd only ever been my Alycia. Nothing intimidating about her. And it was definitely more of a me problem, but seeing her like this... horse riding for God's sake, and with a handsome man who was dressed to impress and had heart eyes for her, only made me feel like I didn't really belong here. She was the daughter of a bloody millionaire and I was me. I'd never even saved ten grand, let alone millions.
And yes, this wasn't her problem. She still loved me for me. And I wasn't usually the insecure type. But right now, seeing her, maybe I was starting to become that.
Not wanting to interrupt and definitely not in the greatest of moods anymore, I returned to the house, sulking.
"Did you find her?" Millie asked, and I was surprised she cared enough to.
"Yeah, thank you. She's horse riding alright," I answered, before scowling to nobody in particular. "With Mr Sucky-Handsome Face."
Millie frowned a little, sensing my disappointment. "Is everything okay?"
I sighed deeply. "Oh, yeah, everything's great. Just having the time of my life watching some dude check out my girlfriend in front of me and try to steal her away. Nothing much."
Okay, so I was salty and it was very unprofessional of me to air my grievances to the staff, but I couldn't help it. Alycia wasn't here and I had nobody else to talk to.
"That's shit," Millie said, surprising me. "Sounds like you need to take your mind off it.
I smiled dryly. "If only it were that easy."
"Well, I was going to start baking some dessert for dinner tomorrow," she said, before suggesting, "Maybe you'd like to help? You could prepare something special for Alycia. I'm sure she'd love that."
I glanced at her. "Really? I can do that?"
Millie laughed. "Of course you can! C'mon. Kitchen's this way."
Surprised that she was offering to cheer me up and also that she was so chill to be around, I smiled a little. "Wow, thanks, Millie."
I spent the remainder of the afternoon helping Millie bake some cupcakes in the kitchen, whilst she also helped me put together a little cake for Alycia. We only got as far as baking the cake part since she had to do her other duties as a staff member, but she promised I could help with the icing tomorrow and to say I was a little excited was an understatement. It certainly did the job of helping me forget about stupid Clayton and his inability to leave my girlfriend alone.
By the time the evening rolled around, Alycia and I were eating dinner by ourselves in one of the many dining rooms of the household. It was nice to finally have her to myself, since she'd been MIA all day, though at no fault of her own.
"So, I should probably tell you if you didn't already know," she began, "but I was hanging out with Clayton earlier today."
And just when I thought I'd forgotten about that.
"It was solely because my dad invited him over and basically dragged me away from my mum," she continued to explain, a hint of regret in her voice. "I really didn't want to."
I shrugged, focusing on my dinner plate. "You can't help it if your dad makes you. It's fine, Alycia."
"I told my dad to back off," she assured me, finding my hand on the table. "He claims it's a business venture. An opportunity."
I almost snorted, but remained cool. An opportunity, sure. An opportunity to steal my girlfriend.
"I don't know what he's told Clayton, but I've made it very obvious I'm taken," she said with conviction, tugging my hand and finally earning my attention. Her eyes were searching mine. "He's nothing to worry about, okay?"
I awkwardly began to smile, really not enjoying this conversation. "I know, Alycia."
She didn't seem convinced, but clearly sensing my discomfort, she dropped the topic. With a nod, she let go of my hand and grabbed her fork to twirl her pasta. Meanwhile, I felt icky at the mere thought of Clayton hanging around her again. Why did Alycia's dad hate me that much that he'd try to set his daughter up with some guy whilst I'm right here? Talk about rude!
"So, what did you get up to today?" Alycia asked, thankfully changing the subject. "You weren't bored, I hope?"
As I remembered this afternoon's events, I began to smile, excited to share with Alycia. "Not at all. There's this girl that works here. Millie? Well, she let me help her bake some cupcakes in the kitchens. Which, by the way, your kitchen's huge."
Alycia tried not to laugh as she watched me. "That sounds lovely. So, where are these cupcakes? Do I get a taste?"
"They're not finished yet," I told her with amusement. "Tomorrow's dessert, love. Also, there may or may not be an extra surprise for you."
"Oh, now you have to tell me more," she insisted, and I laughed at her curious expression.
"It wouldn't be a surprise then, idiot," I reminded her. "Tomorrow. You'll find out tomorrow."
She sighed dramatically but nodded. "Very well. It better be dessert-related. All this talk of cupcakes is making me hungry."
"So what I'm hearing is you wanna go on a dessert run," I said with a nod, already convinced.
Her smile widened. "Hell yeah. Finish your pasta and let's go."
I rolled my eyes at her childishness, but did just that. Maybe today wasn't so bad after all and I was just overthinking it.
#alycia debnam carey#alycia debnam carey x you#alycia debnam carey x reader#alycia debnam carey imagine
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stray kids mythological series: seungmin
pairing: mermaid!seungmin x human!gn!reader
genre: suggestive content, pg
word count: 1.9k
warnings/other: implications of mating, thank you to @l3visbby for giving me the idea for this ♡
masterlist / mythological!au series index
every year, there was one night where the flowers bloomed a little too bright and the waters became too shallow. the sky would light up, millions of stars aligning with the flow of the waves and fluorescent blue waters would shimmer. there was a cave, a cave where the unknown sea creatures sang and gathered. not once did you get too close, not wanting to disturb the hymns of the mermaids. it was a gift, a gift to witness just this once a year event.
the first year you went; you remember the sound of the waves gently rolling off of your paddle boat and the glistening crystal cave walls flickering in the moonlight. that one night, you were able to find a small shiny scale floating in the water. it was transparent, but shone so brightly. you decided you’d wear it as a necklace, a gift you wore so proudly around your neck. unfortunately you weren’t able to get too close, fear of disturbing the beautiful sirens in their rituals.
it was interesting, you had heard stories and drinking songs in the taverns about siren calls, the men on the ships speaking in tall tales of being enthralled by the seemingly genderless beauties. you knew it wasn’t that the case. they were more than just apparent vicious creatures that fed on humans, you could feel it.
-
it was around midnight when you heard the hymns, beautiful echoes of intrinsic melodies echoing from the caves to the shore. your boat was ready, the moon lighting your way as you haphazardly fought against the tides and paddled towards the sound.
as you approached the cave; just out of your line of sight there was a ripple, followed by another not far behind. weird. you thought. the creatures didn’t usually come this far out. nonetheless, you paddled closer, the small oil lamp sitting on the front of your boat shaking with every movement. as soon as you saw a few figures in the light, you came to a halt.
there were six of them that you could see, four lazily lying on the large water carved rocks, two bobbing in the water. it was incredible, you’d never seen so many before. the details in the tails, the shining scales almost blinding. it was otherworldly, the beauty before you. you almost feel like you shouldn’t be allowed to witness this, going places where you shouldn’t and where human eyes have never seen.
you notice how they interact. a little like cats if you think about it. they screech and scratch at each other, but also play with each other's hair, placing their heads together while they sing.
it’s not until a moment later you’re startled from your gaze, a pale and skinny figure sitting up right in the water.
holy shit.
a real life mermaid, is staring at you. his eyes are dark, rings of white and silver sparkles painting the planes of his cheeks and chest. his hair is slicked back, small hints of white tinges within the tendrils of his brown hair. the expression on his face is blank, but he doesn’t seem aggressive by his stance.
slowly, he turns his head a bit to the side before he bobs underwater, suddenly reappearing by the edge of your boat not a moment later. one of his long pointed fingers presses on the side of the wood as he pulls himself closer, his eyes settled on yours.
the creature blinks at you, head moving with the motions of the water. it’s as if he’s trying to figure you out, but you as he, the same thing running through your mind.
“i, uh, came to hear you sing.” you manage to peep, leaning back.
the mermaid continues to stare at you, pupils so dark they almost completely took over the whites of his eyes.
“really?” he asks in a stern but curious manner, arms coming up to lean on the edge of the boat. “now, why would you do that? silly little thing.”
with what he’s saying and how he’s saying it, it’s absolutely patronizing, like he knows something you don’t. but it seems almost amused at your confession and at your lack of an answer.
“it’s interesting, humans go somewhat insane for our calls. but you? nothing.”
“if you’re referring to the men on the ships… they’ll fuck anyone that talks to them. a siren’s song would send them mad of course.” you say as if it’s common knowledge. well, to you it is.
“who said anything about fucking?” the mermaid smiles, pushing himself back from the boat to laugh.
when you think about it, the mermaid probably knows nothing of the songs in the pubs about the vicious mermaids, the ones with the long hair that entrance you with their songs and beauty.
“actually,” he says, leaning back over, arms dangling in front of him to play with a net you had left in your boat from the fishing day prior. “we do it more for amusement than mating.”
“mating?” you ask, leaning forwards. you can feel embarrassment slap in the base of your stomach. why did this make you so nervous? the mermaid sighs, swishing around in the water ignoring your question.
a shimmer of white surfaces beneath the water, large and fish like with it’s shape. never have you seen a tail up so close, it’s breath-taking, and the stories and tales which are so sweetly sung don’t do it justice.
it’s as if he notices your stare and lifts his tail slightly out of the water, angling his hips so you can get a better view.
“you think i’m beautiful, don’t you?”
like a chill running over your body, you’re completely at a loss for words and frozen in your stance. small bundles of anxiety are in your throat. he knows he’s beautiful, he’s teasing you.
the water splashes with a sudden movement, his torso is suddenly pressed against the boat, his eyes focusing on your neck.
"curious." he says, fingers inching forwards to touch the string around your neck. his bony fingers dance around your throat, fingernails dangerously scratching in their path. the mermaid stops, taping on the scale.
"very curious." he repeats.
what he's referring to is your necklace, the one with the scale bound by a silver string you had found in your first year of adventuring into the sea. it seems similar to the scales on his tail.
the way he's looking at you is almost as if you're his prey, he seems hungry to learn about you, play with you. you can't even muster up the courage to speak, to ask its intentions.
“would you like to touch me?”
“huh?” you blurt out, realizing his fingers are still playing with your neck.
this was going beyond anything you thought this would. all you wanted to do was see the beautiful creatures up close, let alone wanting to interact with one.
“i know you do.” he grins, maneuvering his body so as to move himself closer to you.
hesitantly, you lean forwards, arm reaching out before you. you press your index finger against the softness of his cheek, the shining blotches against his skin turn a light green with your touch. the mermaid hums, leaning into your touch as you explore the spans of skin beneath the patterns of glitter. you almost forget about the grip he’s beginning to tighten around your neck, his fingers exploring at the back of your hair.
you realize that your curiosity got the best of you as the feeling of being pulled forward startles you, followed by the slight sensation of drowning. everything is a blur, the water is dark and you can’t see a thing. you toss and turn, trying to grab onto anything to reach the surface. within a few seconds, you feel your body stopping the fight. there’s a flow of soothing energy running through your body, it’s calm, your arms slowly stop their flailing as the water engulfs you.
a light enters your eyes, it seems like a long tail, glowing in the water, swishing about to come closer. you watch with squinted eyes as the figure draws near, it’s long fingers lacing themselves around your waist to guide you. the light glows brighter, as if the sun itself had sunken into the sea.
there’s a tug at your waist as you’re pulled closer, your body pressing onto another. tingles run up and down your spine, your head spinning due to lack of oxygen in your blood.
just when your eyes adjust you see the mermaid before you, his eyes dark but gentle, searching your face for what you were feeling. the gem-like patterns in his skin are shining brighter than before, he's practically beaming at you.
what you didn’t expect your lips to be met with his own, his plushness cupping over your mouth to breathe into yours.
you take in the breath offered, raising your hands to clamp around the back of his neck. it's like small pins enter your lungs, but with an overwhelming sense of ecstasy laced within it. you can feel it trickle down your whole body, and with every touch and movement of his hands, small blue patterns of glow are left in its wake but disappear just as fast. the last thing you remember is the feeling of his tail wrapping around your legs, pulling you further into the depths of the sea.
-
the light of the rising sun kisses your eyelids, your body stirring as you awaken. when you had left the night prior, it was midnight. blurs of kisses and pleasures thrash in your mind, your broken thoughts not being able to piece together. you can’t remember much of what happened. the only thing you can feel is your body being completely drenched, toes just dipping into the shore waves. you begin searching around you to get your bearings. all you feel is the plushness of damp sand and the cool breeze on your nearly naked skin.
a small amount of pain is aching around the base of your neck, so you raise your hand to rub the sore spot. you soon realize that your necklace is gone, the one you cherished for years now is no longer circling your neck.
before you can even register the loss of your favourite thing, a sharp pinch startles you as you clamp your other fist. you bring your hand to your eyes, opening to see the offending cause. there's maybe dozens of them, small bright scales glistening as you move your hand back and forth. they're the very same ones that you had around your neck.
woah. you say to yourself, moving one the scales to the light.
as you turn the scale in the beams from the sun, you catch something in the corner of your eye. it’s your boat, and behind, those same pair of eyes you gazed upon the night prior.
but just as soon as you see them, they're gone. splashes and ripples are left behind.
taglist: @blankdyean @l3visbby @daddyjoonchua @nagitosluckycharms @abcdefgiwsmcty
#stray kids reader#stray kids#stray kids fanfic#stray kids x reader#skz#mythologicalseries#seungmin#kim seungmin#seungmin x gn reader#seungmin x m reader#seungmin x you#seungmin x f reader#seungmin x reader#seungmin x y/n#seungmin x male reader#skz fic#hope yall like!!!!!
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LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN
May 29, 2024
HEATHER COX RICHARDSON
MAY 30, 2024
President Joe Biden and Vice President Kamala Harris campaigned today in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. They spoke at Girard College, a school where Black Americans make up most of the student body, where they emphasized the importance of Black voters to the Democratic coalition and the ways in which the administration’s actions have delivered on its promises to the Black community.
“Because Black Americans voted, Kamala and I are President and Vice President of the United States,” Biden said. “That’s not hyperbole. Because you voted, Donald Trump is a defeated former president.”
Harris noted that Black Americans are 60% more likely than white Americans to be diagnosed with diabetes, and called out the administration’s capping of insulin at $35 a month, along with the provisions of the Inflation Reduction Act that permit Medicare to negotiate with pharmaceutical companies. She called out the administration’s relief of more than $165 billion in student loan debt for more than 5 million Americans, as well as the first major bipartisan gun safety law in 30 years.
What has guided them, Harris said to applause, is the “fundamental belief” that “[w]e work for you, the American people, not the special interests, not the billionaires or the big corporations, but the people.”
She contrasted their record with that of former president Trump, who tried to get rid of the Affordable Care Act that puts healthcare within reach for millions of Black Americans, proposed cuts to Social Security and Medicare, and handpicked Supreme Court justices who would overturn Roe v. Wade. “And as he intended, they did,” she said. “[T]oday, one in three women and more than half of Black women of reproductive age live in a state with an abortion ban.”
Then Biden took the stage to chants of “Four more years!” He added to Harris’s list of ways in which the administration has worked for racial equality: reconnecting the Black and brown and poor neighborhoods that were cut apart by highways in the 1960s and addressing the decades of disinvestment that happened as a consequence of the carving up of those neighborhoods (this cutting apart of neighborhoods is a really big deal in urban history, by the way); getting rid of the lead pipes that still contaminate water, especially in minority neighborhoods; making high-speed internet widely available and affordable; investing in historically Black colleges and universities; appointing more Black women to federal circuit courts than all other U.S. presidents combined.
Under the Biden administration, he noted, Black unemployment is at a record low and Black small businesses are starting at the fastest rate in 30 years. The wealth gap between Black Americans and white Americans is the lowest it’s been in 20 years. “We’re opening more doors for economic opportunity, including access to capital, entrepreneurship, workforce training so you can build a life of financial freedom and create generational wealth...all while being the providers and leaders of your families and community,” the president said.
Biden drew a contrast between his administration and Trump, saying, “I’ve shown you who I am, and Trump has shown you who he is. And today, Donald Trump is pandering and peddling lies and stereotypes for your votes so he can win for himself, not for you.” “[W]e’re not going to let Donald Trump turn America into a place that doesn’t believe in honesty, decency, and treating people with respect,” he said, “and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let Donald Trump turn America into a place filled with anger and resentment and hate.”
According to Myah Ward and Brakkton Booker of Politico, this was Biden’s fifth trip to the Philadelphia area and his seventh to Pennsylvania this year. As he tries to win the state in 2024, the campaign has opened 24 field offices and outspent Trump there by a ratio of more than 4 to 1.
Harris and Biden’s appearance in Philadelphia looked pretty much like a normal day in a normal presidential campaign season.
The same was not true of the presumptive Republican presidential nominee Donald Trump, who was in a courtroom in Manhattan as Judge Juan Merchan instructed the jury in the criminal case against Trump for falsifying business records to hide a $130,000 payment to adult film actress Stephanie Clifford, also known as Stormy Daniels, to stop her account of their sexual encounter from becoming public in the days before the 2016 election.
Legal analyst Joyce White Vance explained that to find Trump guilty, “[t]he jury must find unanimously that Trump created fraudulent business records and that he did it with the intent to influence an election through unlawful means.”
Trump and his supporters immediately took to the media to misrepresent the court system. Trump appeared to sleep through the jury instructions but later posted on social media: “I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT THE CHARGES ARE IN THIS RIGGED CASE…. THERE IS NO CRIME.” (He had told the judge on April 4, 2023, that he understood the charges against him.) Trump insisted that he had been railroaded by the fact that “a lot of key witnesses were not called,” although his own defense did not call them and he declined to testify himself. He called the judge “conflicted” and “corrupt,” and said “Mother Teresa could not beat these charges,” a reference to the Albanian-Indian Catholic nun canonized by the Catholic Church in 2016.
Fox News host John Roberts misrepresented the judge’s instructions, launching a wave of fury on right-wing media stations and prompting Florida senator Marco Rubio to write: “This is exactly the kind of sham trial used against political opponents of the regime in the old Soviet Union.” Utah senator Mike Lee chimed in with his own attacks on Judge Merchan. Roberts later corrected his tweet, but it was too late to change the narrative.
Tonight, those two themes reappeared again and again on social media in both Trump’s feed and those of his supporters. Their frenzy suggested they are concerned about the jury’s verdict. Newsmax host Todd Starnes tweeted: “President Trump needs to get out of New York City RIGHT NOW! Fly back to Mar-a-Lago or another state that will provide him safe harbor.”
Indeed, it seems we are seeing the fear of accountability that has been missing from the top levels of American politics since President Gerald Ford pardoned President Richard M. Nixon in 1974. While Ford believed Nixon’s accepting the pardon was an admission of guilt for his participation in the coverup of the break-in at the headquarters of the Democratic National Committee in the Watergate Hotel before the 1972 election and anything else he might have done, Nixon never admitted such guilt.
In the fifty years since then, certain powerful people seem to have concluded that they cannot be held accountable to laws or rules. The MAGA Republicans are illustrating that disrespect for the rule of law on a daily basis as they work to undermine the courts and the Department of Justice.
Yesterday, Jodi Kantor of the New York Times reported that Supreme Court Justice Samuel Alito’s story that his wife flew the upside down flag of distress favored by the January 6th rioters as a response to a hostile neighbor did not line up with accounts given by neighbors and a police report.
Because of that distress flag, as well as the “Appeal to Heaven” flag that flew over his beach house, Alito is under increasing pressure to recuse himself from considering cases related to the events of January 6, including whether Trump is immune from prosecution for his actions surrounding the attempt to overturn the results of the 2020 presidential election. Today Alito refused to recuse himself, blaming his wife for flying the flags—“My wife is fond of flying flags. I am not,” he wrote—and suggesting that anyone who thinks he should recuse himself is “motivated by political or ideological considerations.”
And in what should almost certainly be read as trolling those who disagree with him, Alito, the author of the 2022 Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization decision taking away from American women the right to make their own decisions about their healthcare, wrote: “[M]y wife is an independently minded private citizen. She makes her own decisions, and I honor her right to do so.”
Trump promptly congratulated Alito “for showing the INTELLIGENCE, COURAGE, and ‘GUTS’ to refuse stepping aside from making a decision on anything January 6th related.”
MAGA attacks on the rule of law affect real people’s lives. Ryan J. Reilly of NBC News reported today that after former Washington, D.C., Metropolitan Police officer Michael Fanone called Trump “authoritarian” with a “violence fetish” in front of the Manhattan courthouse yesterday, Fanone’s 78-year-old mother was swatted, with officers showing up at her home after reports of a murder there. Fanone protected the U.S. Capitol on January 6, 2021, and went into cardiac arrest after a rioter assaulted him with a stun gun. “This is the reality of going up against or challenging Donald Trump…. These swatting calls are incredibly f---ing dangerous, especially when the target is somebody like my mom.”
LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN
HEATHER COX RICHARDSON
#GOTV#Heather Cox Richardson#Letters From An American#voters#campaign 2024#MAGA lies#Rule of Law#Biden Harris Accomplishments#black Americans
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“I'm Israel.
I came to a land without a people for a people without a land. Those people who happened to be here, had no right to be here, and my people showed them they had to leave or die, razing 400 Palestinian villages to the ground, erasing their history.
Call me Israel. Some of my people committed massacres and later became Prime Ministers to represent me. In 1948, Menachem Begin was in charge of the unit that slaughtered the inhabitants of Deir Yassin, including 100 women and children. In 1953, Ariel Sharon led the slaughter of the inhabitants of Qibya, and in 1982 arranged for our allies to butcher around 2,000 in the refugee camps of Sabra and Shatila.
Call me Israel. Carved in 1948 out of 78% of the land of Palestine, dispossessing its inhabitants and replacing them with Jews from Europe and other parts of the world. While the natives whose families lived on this land for thousands of years are not allowed to return, Jews from all over the world are welcome to instant citizenship.
Call me Israel. In 1967, I swallowed the remaining lands of Palestine - East Jerusalem, the West Bank and Gaza - and placed their inhabitants under an oppressive military rule, controlling and humiliating every aspect of their daily lives. Eventually, they should get the message that they are not welcome to stay, and join the millions of Palestinian refugees in the shanty camps of Lebanon and Jordan.
Call me Israel. I have the power to control American policy. My American Israel Public Affairs Committee can make or break any politician of its choosing, and as you see, they all compete to please me. All the forces of the world are powerless against me, including the UN as I have the American veto to block any condemnation of my war crimes. As Sharon so eloquently phrased it, “We control America”.
Call me Israel. I influence American mainstream media too, and you will always find the news tailored to my favor. I have invested millions of dollars into PR representation, and CNN, New York Times, and others have been doing an excellent job of promoting my propaganda. Look at other international news sources and you will see the difference.
Call me Israel. You Palestinians want to negotiate “peace!?” But you are not as smart as me; I will negotiate, but will only let you have your municipalities while I control your borders, your water, your airspace and anything else of importance. While we “negotiate,” I will swallow your hilltops and fill them with settlements, populated by the most extremist of my extremists, armed to the teeth. These settlements will be connected with roads you cannot use, and you will be imprisoned in your little Bantustans between them, surrounded by checkpoints in every direction.
Call me Israel. I have the fourth strongest army in the world, possessing nuclear weapons. How dare your children confront my oppression with stones, don’t you know my soldiers won’t hesitate to blow their heads off? In 17 months, I have killed 900 of you and injured 17,000, mostly civilians, and have the mandate to continue since the international community remains silent. Ignore, as I do, the hundreds of Israeli reserve officers who are now refusing to carry out my control over your lands and people; their voices of conscience will not protect you.
Call me Israel. You want freedom? I have bullets, tanks, missiles, Apaches and F-16s to obliterate you. I have placed your towns under siege, confiscated your lands, uprooted your trees, demolished your homes, and you still demand freedom? Don’t you get the message? You will never have peace or freedom, because I am Israel.'’
- Written by Professor Norman Finkelstein.
Please also read 'The Ethnic Cleansing of Palestine', by Israeli history professor and activist Ilan Pappé .
The world has been lied to for 73 years.
The Palestinian people are being destroyed before our eyes, and many of those who have been shouting loudly, 'Never again', look away.
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Just a Little Further 21
Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20
Fine. I admit it.
The Royal Dawn is a really nice hotel.
And the best part is, after my... demonstration to the Administrative offices today, I didn't have to order the Hotel to give us some rooms! They just offered rooms to us the minute we walked in!
I was given 'The Empress Suite.' I giggled at the name. I wonder if this had something to do with the royal retinue back in the day. Between the opulence, the name, and the theme it feels possible.
It is possible. There was always more than the Throne for you and your retinue. Every Starbase competed to offer you the most luxurious accommodations. After all, if you didn't like them, you could just rest on your starship.
My room - my suite of rooms actually - are easily the nicest place I've slept in my entire life. I made sure Omar, Ava, Um'reli and I each had our own rooms and while I'm glad that they have their own space, I'm too used to being around other people in the close quarters of FarReach or Starbases back home. I rattle around the rooms opening cabinets and drawers until I see it in the corner near a window overlooking the promenade.
They have a bath here!
It's made of some kind of golden flecked white stone, and is carved to look like it was weathered by the wind and water over millions of years. I figure out the taps, and set a bath going.
Once it's finished, I take off my outfit - Ugh, I wish I packed, this is my only clothes unless I use the Nanites to make more - and slip into the bath. It's blissfully relaxing.
I'm laying back in the tub, just floating, and I wish Ava was here with me.
Where did that come from?
I think for a split second about calling her in, but decide against it. I'm sure she'd come running if I called, I'm sure she'd be... enthusiastic about it, but I don't think I'm ready yet. I comfort myself with the thought, and soak for nearly an hour.
After, I dry and climb into the bed naked. I'll deal with clothes tomorrow.
More wild dreams.
My ship, operated and led by my most trusted Builder, Aeche, carries us to her prized Starbase. Built on her order for me, it's beautiful. She takes me on a tour, and we visit all of the highlights. She is especially proud of the transit system, the largest off planet in the Empire.
A team of 10 Builders live and work at the Reach operating in shifts to make sure all the needs of the residents and builders that live here are taken care of. It's one of the most complex Starbases yet and one of the most impressive.
That night, she comes to my rooms while I'm in the bath. She asks to join me, and I accept. For her, this is a culmination of months of jockeying and positioning to catch my eye, it's the realization of a goal years in the making.
For me, it's a fun night. She is easy on the eyes though, I see no harm in keeping her around for a while.
The next day, she leads me to the Throne. The only larger one exists back home on Imperia and I get the impression that this one is smaller only out of courtesy.
Sitting upon the Throne, with a full contingent of Builders behind me, I'm able to instantly take stock of my Empire. Things are going well. There are new reports from the frontier, and I set them to my ship, Worldshaker, so I have something to read while en route to the K'laxi.
This is the last stop before I go see the K'laxi, turn their Gate back on and remind them what the price of insubordination is. Worldshaker is getting reprovisioned and refreshed as the trip is longer than normal and I want to make sure we can stay a while if needed. On my way out, I'll touch the Gate, and commit an upload.
That night, Aeche visits me again, and we have more fun. After, we go to bed and I lay awake thinking about next steps. Aeche sighs and rolls over in her sleep next to me. I stroke her hair gently. Yes, things are going quiet well. It's nice to have some quiet.
I wake up in my bed, alone, in the hotel room, fully myself again. Not only was that the most... idyllic dream I've had yet, it's the first that I felt like it was me doing the things, not some other Empress.
Yes, the Nanites are doing well. You can probably integrate with the Throne if you were to try. It's up to you however. But remember you told The Smell of Soil after Rain to bring everyone today. We should head over there.
Hmm Good point. Okay, let's get up, get dressed, grab everyone and head over. I look over at my outfit from yesterday. It's nice, and it's impressive, but if I'm going to be presenting as Empress to everyone, I need something... more.
I concentrate and think about what would be right. I don't think about specifics, I let the Nanites take my whims into consideration and see what I get. The fog cloud of them surrounds me and my outfit from yesterday and I when they finish I turn and look in the mirror near the bath.
I'm still in royal blue - good, I like that color - but the outfit now is a... strapless ball gown? It's rather severely low cut - I wonder if that's from dreaming about Aeche - and the dress clings on the top half and billows and flows on the lower half and ends in sparking stars and nebulae on a train that flows behind me, rippling gently as if a breeze is blowing it. I check and... yes, it's not touching the ground. That's a neat trick. I'm wearing taller heels than yesterday too, but at least they're comfortable - for now. It's not something that Lieutenant Mullen would ever wear, but it seems... right for Empress Melody The First. I'll roll with it. In deference to who I am, there is a way to mount my rifle on my back. I click it in place and feel complete. I wonder how many Empresses were armed?
Many were. We even have records of a few who would carry a battle rifle with them.
That brings me some happiness. Even after how different we are, there are still some things that I share with Empresses across time.
As I open the door to leave, I see Omar, Ava and Um'reli in the hall already dressed and ready. They turn to see me and Ava and Um'reli both gasp and blush. Omar grins wickedly. "Melody, I have to say that this is the first time since you told us you were an Empress that you look the part. That is an amazing outfit."
I curtsy slightly "Thank you Omar. Did you all sleep well? I have a hunch with the Nanites you had... intense dreams?"
Ava snaps her had up to me. "I did! I dreamt that I was running a Starbase. We were preparing for your visit and I had so much to do, but I knew how to do all of it, and I had a really strong team, and you complimented our readiness when you arrived!"
Um'reli looks at me with an odd expression. "I did too, but... I dreamt I was a human. A Builder. I was operating a Starship, the Sunrunner. We were tasked by you directly to tour the frontier worlds and build a report about how they were doing, if they needed anything and if we thought there was any unrest. We were very proud because you had personally asked for us."
"What about you Omar?" Ava turns and looks at him.
"Yeah, I had a vivid dream. I dreamt that I was a planetary administrator. I ruled over more than a billion people on a world with two suns. One was white and the other was larger and redder. I remember clearly the odd shadows it cast, and how everything had an odd coloration. You had requested an increase in the delivery of Magnesium. We were able to meet the new quota this time, but I was worried that if you had requested to keep the quote high, how we would be able to make it without overworking the miners."
"Wow, so not only did you dream about being a Builder, not only did you dream about being a powerful Builder, but you all were in direct contact with the Empress. I wonder if that's because you received your Nanites from me directly."
"Who knows?" Um'reli looks at all of us. "But I for one am starving. Let's get some breakfast and go back to the Throne. Melody has a performance to give."
We head downstairs and sure enough there is a restaurant attached to the Hotel. We sit down and immediately I ask for a carafe of boiling hot water to be brought. While we wait, I take out my hand grinder and scale and make some coffee. By the time the water arrives, everything is ready. The Mariens who brought me the water is watching curiously as I make the coffee. Soon enough, it's finished, and I take the first sip of coffee in nearly three days.
Ahh, now, I can rule.
"Pardon my asking, Empress, but what is that?" The Mariens points to my beverage.
"It's called coffee. It's the roasted seed of a plant that's native to the planet we lived on. I like to drink an extraction of it made with boiling water. It does have a chemical, called caffeine, that offers a stimulant effect to Hu-Builders, but we've found it to be toxic to other Sapients, like our friends the K'laxi here. You can smell it if you'd like though." I hold out the cup.
The Mariens leans in and gently inhales. They lean back sharply and look at me. "That smells amazing." Their body language expresses wonder. "Truly, the Builders do amazing things. Now, what will you be having for breakfast?"
We order and eat and walk towards the Throne. As we're walking this time, people are not ignoring us. Children wave, people follow us with their eyes. They don't seem to be fearful of us, more respectful this time. As we turn a corner, I see Rapid River Roaring and The Smell of the Ocean. They look worse for wear. Both of them have matted feathers, even a few bare spots. Wild eyed they're looking around. River is clutching a bag of some kind.
Uh oh.
They turn and see me. Relief washes over them and they run up to me "Empress! My Empress!" They both approach me and bow low, head touching the ground. "We have completed your task. We have found Vivvix and Zemmlin and brought them to you."
Ava looks around. "But, where are they?"
I know where they are.
River opens the bag they're carrying.
Inside are most of Vivvix and Zemmlin.
"I see..." I try to not look unsettled. Omar's face darkens and he turns away. Ava look in and nods, satisfied. Um'reli doesn't look in, but she isn't unsettled by this development either.
Well. What's done is done. "I would have preferred they be brought to me alive, but my fault for not specifying that. Where were they?"
"The cowards were hiding in the docks. They were attempting to board another ship and catch up to that traitor, Ottarn. We were able to surprise them, and carried out your order, Empress."
"Yes, I can see that. Er, thank you both for your hard work. Go to High Line and find Starlight on a Moonless Evening. After this presentation, I plan on visiting the ship to assess it for refitting.
They both bow again. "Empress."
Part 22
#humans are deathworlders#humans are space orcs#humans go on adventure#humans are space oddities#sci fi writing#writing#humans and ai#humans and aliens#the k'laxiverse#jpitha#just a little further
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Vengeance
//Detective!gnReader//Criminal!Skz//Explicit Language//Triggering themes- such as mentions of murder, su!c!de, torture, overall violence, angst//
PLEASE INFORM ME IF IM MISSING ANY TRIGGER WARNINGS
PART ONE OF THREE
~~~|~~~
“Why are you alone today?” You ponder, watching the youngest of the usually inseparable men walk into the bar. It’s a Tuesday, rather early- and you thought he didn’t drink.
He didn’t like the taste of alcohol, and he hated the effects of it even more. You read that in his file, along with his whole life story, dating back to the day he was abandoned by his family.
That was the beginning for him, you think. That blatant abandonment sparked a chain reaction that left hundreds dead and millions in a state of fear.
But he wasn’t all bad, none of them were. They were generous criminals. Always giving back to the underprivileged.
They were loved by so many, but feared at the same time. You’d be a fool to attempt to step up to the gang of men.
Everyone knew what they were capable of, it’s even theorized that the government funds their crimes.
Why not join them if you knew you couldn’t beat them? However, you had only arrived in Seoul less than a month ago seeking to take these thugs down. It might take you a while, but that’s okay.
You enjoyed the country, you had no problem spending weeks, months, or even years there.
Whatever it took to catch them.
They had murdered your sister. Your sweet little sister who had went down the wrong path. Owed the wrong people some money, couldn’t pay up no matter how many chances they gave, then tried to rat them out to the police.
Cecilia, that was her name. You loved her name, she always wrote is so prettily. Now that name was plastered on a tombstone back in your home country.
She shouldn’t have messed with them, you knew that. In some ways, it was her own fault.
You wondered how she even got aquatinted with them. She was closer to their maknae’s age, maybe she saw him at a club? She did visit South Korea four months before she would be found dead in her apartment. Was her two week vacation here the beginning of her demise?
Had to be.
You still remember walking into her apartment, having unlocked the door with the key she gave you. The house reeked, and you knew what that smell was before your heart even wanted to believe it was true.
You slowed your walking down, trying to delay the eventual discovery of your poor sister’s body.
She was in the tub. Wrists slit, bloody water, faucet still running, her clothes still on.
Cecilia had a history of self harm and suicidal attempts. The police found a cause of death quickly.
Suicide.
But that didn’t sit right with you.
Being the devoted sibling (and detective) you were, you began looking for clues.
You went through every phone record, every email, every bank statement, hell- anything you could get your hands on.
Nothing stood out until you looked at the photos taken at her autopsy. There was a cut on her left palm.
It wasn’t deep enough to cause any real damage, a scar is probably all she’d get. But that cut…it was oddly shaped.
A cut that was curved, starting at her thumb and ending at her ring finger.
A cut you had seen before.
Countless pictures of victims with those same cuts. It was a trademark.
And it came from them. That carving let everyone know who the killers were. That meant you fucked up, bad. You took advantage of their kindness. You screwed them over.
Everyone knew, the police knew, you screamed and cried for the authorities to do something when you seen it.
They did nothing.
Begged your chief to open an investigation. He said no.
Contacted any authority figure you could in South Korea. They could help? Right?
They were just as scared as everyone else.
Those bastards… Came all the way to your home country just to kill your sister.
The cameras in her apartment building did no help. All the footage was mysteriously “lost”.
So was it all of them? Did they take a family vacation to your sister’s demise?
It looked like a one man job, but all of them could have been there.
Nonetheless, you were pissed. No one wanted to help you so you’d take them down yourself.
And now you’re in a bar, on a Tuesday, approximately 1:00 pm. You’re on your fourth shot. You spent all night reading up on these criminals.
They kept outsmarting the law, letting everyone know they were responsible for everything without leaving enough evidence to even put together a solid case.
Whatever. The police wouldn’t do anything anyways, it was up to you.
And you were three feet away from one of them. The youngest. The most impressionable, so you’ve heard.
He stayed by his hyungs, they leveled him. He was naïve, still only 21 years old. He trusted people too easily, someone said.
He wasn’t as ruthless as the others, another said. But he was still a scary motherfucker.
You almost laughed. He looked so innocent. Kind eyes, an even kinder smile. A breathless laugh that made your chest hurt.
He was cute, adorable even. How could he be a criminal? His past was to blame, no doubt.
“Excuse me” A small voice said, allowing you to pop out of your trance. He- Yang Jeongin- was looking at you.
Dammit, you were staring. He caught you.
Don’t. Be. Suspicious.
“Im so sorry” You say, “You just looked familiar. That’s all”
He nods, tilting his head a little. He was probably analyzing your face, trying to see if he knew you.
“I look familiar?” He finally questions, “You think you know me from somewhere?”
“Maybe not you. But you do look like someone I used to know”
He nods again, this time squinting his eyes only briefly.
“Who?” He asked as the bartender brings him a glass of ice water.
Ice water at a bar?
Well…he doesn’t drink.
“A childhood friend” You lie, “You look so much like him actually”
“What was his name?”
“Cameron” You lie quickly
“Cameron?” The man quirks an eyebrow, “That was his English name?”
“Yes. He was from Korea but, moved elsewhere when he was a young. I forget his Korean name”
He keeps questioning you. Asking where you’re from, why you decided to visit Korea, if you were enjoying your stay, what you liked best about the country, how long you planned on staying.
You lied so well that it surprised you. And in the end, you think he believed everything you said.
“Goodness, we’ve been talking for a long time” Jeongin said, looking at his phone.
It had been about 45 minutes- but you guess that’s a long time when you’re talking to a stranger.
“I’d love to keep talking but I have to meet my brothers” He smiles.
He thinks you don’t know who he is, despite their “fame” here.
That’s to be expected. Despite how notorious they are, they’re less known outside of Korea. Only a few people know about them, the crime junkies. No one else really cared that much, or was too scared to try and care.
You were warned about them 5 times within the first two hours of you arriving in Korea. 6 more times once you reached Seoul.
They aren’t hiding, per se. They stay out the way but people know what they look like.
“Such a shame” you grin, “I enjoyed our conversation”
You could see the gears turning in the man’s head. Again, he was the most trusting out the group. All you needed him to do was invite you to go hang out with him and the others.
“Maybe you could come with me?” He asked, flashing a large smile.
He seemed like such a sweetheart, how could he be such a ruthless criminal?
“Sure! But won’t your brothers mind?”
“No” He laughed, “They won’t care. Especially if I bring someone as attractive as you”
You felt your cheeks get hot, a charmer- isn’t he?
“Okay. Lead the way then”
You quickly paid your bill and followed after Jeongin. He said the walk to the place you two were going wouldn’t be a long one.
Something in the back of your mind told you this wasn’t a good idea. Blindly following after a merciless thug, why are you doing this?
The overwhelming want to avenge your sister is what guided you. It’s what made you make these impulsive decisions.
“When you meet the guys, make sure to greet all of them. Look them in the eye when talking to them, don’t interrupt them” Jeongin said, making your nerves shot.
You didn’t say anything, but continued to follow after him until you two reached an abandoned looking warehouse.
#skz bang chan#skz changbin#skz felix#skz han#skz hyunjin#skz jeongin#skz lee know#skz minho#skz seungmin#skz x reader#skz#stray kids#bang chan#changbin#Han#hyunjin#jeongin#lee know#seungmin#Felix#skz replay#skz fanfic#skz angst#stray kids fanfic#stray kids angst#skz poly x reader
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One Shot Recs
I've either run or played these all as one shots, and are ones I recommended to a friend recently. I also have links at the bottom to a bunch of free quickstarts for more games to look at that might be good for one shots too.
Blue Rose - AGE system from Green Ronin. Romantic fantasy where royalty is chosen by a magical stag and the rich are appropriately taxed. Cool Stunts mechanic to do extra abilities during a turn, easy system to get used to but has that crunchy feel too. Sentient animal race that forms bonds with people is an instant love every time. Free quickstart.
Heart: the City Beneath - Resistance system by Rowan Rook & Decard. A dungeon crawler where the dungeon is an NPC. Take stress until you can't, go out in a blaze of glory with one time Zenith abilities, such as summon a train to wipe out everything in its path - including you. Heart's the love of my life and the first RPG to make me cry(in a good way). It's earnest and grotesque and something about going in knowing you will End, and choosing it, does something to me. Also you can be full of bees(on purpose). Quickstart is PWYW($3ish suggested) but you should give them 1 million dollars actually.
Bones Deep - Troika! system based by @technicalgrimoire. The other love of my life. Be a skeleton on the ocean floor! What happened to your skin? Not important! Do jobs for witches, get credits from the crabs, join the cephalopods in their nefarious plans. The classes are fun(shapeshift your bones, or carve spells into them), and the mix of horror and humor is immaculately weird. Many random tables and a couple scenarios to make it easy to start swimming walking. Also not free($15 for digital), but worth every cent and then some(and the website is awesome resource!).
Index Card RPG - d20 system from Runehammer Games. It's 'simple enough to fit on index card'. There's actually lots of stuff, but it's easy to get a game rolling fast! Be a gerblin, get a bunch of loot. If you're a chronic low roller like me, a nice mechanic is when you fail you get to put points in a pool to use for later rolls. Probably the easiest one on this list to jump to from DnD. Free quickstart.
Wildsea - Wild Words system from Mythworks(took me awhile to find the name for it lol which isn't important just play it xD). You can be a mushroom person piloting a giant whale bone ship with a chainsaw on the front above a sea of trees. The world is so cool and unique. Health is measured in stuff to lose/break and there's a sliding success mechanic(you succeed, you succeed BUT- etc.). Free quickstart.
Tales from the Loop - Year Zero engine by Free League. Be kids in an alternate 80s-90s Scandinavia(or US) setting trying to navigate growing up alongside strange tech and apathetic adults. I really like how they tweaked the system to make it fun being kids for this, with iconic items and luck points, and it's very collab focused. I used this scenario as a one shot. There's a starter's set for $4.99.
Old Gods of Appalachia - Cypher system by Monte Cook. Face horrors man-made and monstrous in the haints and hollers of an alternate 1930ish Appalachia. Based on the podcast(don't know anything about the podcast? Even better imo). Cyphers are neat one-time use items you find during game to make you stronger/invisible/etc. Free quickstart.
Under Hill, By Water - OSR hack by Rise Up Comus. Hobbits! Okay, "halflings" for copyright but...it's hobbits. While some are off saving the world, your greatest worry is finding the lost pig before your wife realizes it's missing. It's not a boring life, just a quiet one. Random table generators for Events to happen each season make this easy to pick up, or come up with your own! $10. We loved this one so much we turned it into a mini campaign.
Mörk Borg - OSR-ish by Free League. Last but not least in the amount of shelf space in my room! The basic rules fit on one piece of paper, but the books are packed with amazing art and delicious disgustingness. It's easy, quick and deadly, with so many random tables for generating baddies, loot, etc., and usually each version of it has a doomsday countdown calendar with horrid new things to add, and then a final horrible event to end the game. It IS very dark and gloom, and I don't normally play it as rough as the OG, which works out fine! You can get a free version of the core book on the website linked, and tons of other free goodies there. My current fav hacks are Pirate Borg and Ork Borg.
List of free Quickstarts I found(and some I'll be playing soon!):
Coriolis
Dune
Fabula Ultima
City of Mist
Rapscallion
Fifth Season
Symbaroum
Dragonbane
SCP
Root
Fantasy AGE
Modern AGE
Myth-Stakes
Dead Air: Seasons
Broken Tales
Legacy: Life Among the Ruins
Heckin' Good Doggos
Star Trek Adventures
Flabbergasted!
Familiars of Terra
Daggerheart
Coyote & Crow
7th Sea
Candela Obscura
Fallout RPG
Happy Gaming!
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Teaser from a current unpublished WIP
So, I've decided to start writing fics in full before publishing them. But that doesn't mean I can't share snippets, right? Right. After all, I need something to post on this blog.
Unbeta'd. All mistakes are mine.
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Reclaimed
Timeline: Buffy Season 6
Pairing: Spuffy (obvs)
Expected Publication Date: Early 2024
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“I need to see you.”
Buffy pressed her eyes closed and waited for her body to do the rest. The pounding heart. The racing pulse. The sweaty palms. And the thoughts. God, the thoughts. Once those floodgates opened, it would take nothing short of an apocalypse to close them again, and she’d spend the next few weeks replaying every syllable they shared in an attempt to discern hidden meaning. The unspoken I love yous. The implied if things were differents. The flat-out false if you need me, I’ll be theres. In short, the same old Angel song and dance she’d memorized what felt like a million years ago. It was the only thing in this world that was more a certainty than death and taxes.
Well, especially more than death. Buffy couldn’t even rely on that anymore.
“Did you hear me?” came his voice again, low and intimate and Angel. “Is everything all right?”
She shocked herself by laughing. Shocked him, too, if the answering silence was any indication. But honestly, what did he expect? Yes, Angel, I’m fine. I clawed my way out of my grave and into a house that’s hemorrhaging money. My friends are in the backyard throwing out my lamp and my coffee table. There’s water in my shoes from the basement, and I just realized the only thing I want to do less than figure out my finances is see you.
Honestly, it might be worth saying all that just for the look on his face. Only, of course, she wouldn’t actually get to see the look on his face, but her imagination was pretty active these days. She could probably make do.
“Things aren’t great around here,” Buffy said instead. When in doubt, it always better to opt for the path of least resistance. The fact was she should want to see Angel. Hell, she should be halfway out the door now, careless hand-wavy excuse made to Giles, who had been right in the middle of what she was sure he’d intended to be a very rousing speech about persevering through difficulty or some other bullshit. That she’d felt nothing but a vague god, what now upon hearing Angel’s voice through the line was worrying, to say the least. Buffy had never experienced that with him. Not once. Not even when she’d been with Riley and very not-single. Some part of her had always been carved out for Angel.
It probably meant something that she didn’t feel it now. Something less than good. Just another way Buffy was broken.
“Can I help?” Angel asked. “What do you need?”
I need you to go back to thinking I’m dead.
But she didn’t say that, either. This was Angel. The one person in this stupid world that should make her heart do something other than sink. Being alive might not have been her choice but if she was going to be here, she at least wanted to feel like herself. She wanted to be Buffy. The real Buffy. Not the Buffy who was standing here, holding the phone and listening to her ex-boyfriend ask her a variation of the same questions that had been hurled her way since the great un-deadening, and with the same hollow quality in his voice that told her he didn’t expect an answer that would leave him with a to-do list.
Everyone wanted to help without actually doing anything. Everyone wanted her to know that they were there for her so she couldn’t look back at some future date and claim that they hadn’t been.
Well, almost everyone.
#spuffy#spuffy fanfic#spuffy fic#elysian fields#spike buffy#spike x buffy#buffy x angel#buffy season 6 fic#coming soon#spuffy endgame#wip snippet#my wips#wip sneak peek#current wip
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Some days, hope is hard. Today is one of those days.
Maudlin ramblings and wailing and gnashing of teeth below the cut.
Today is grey and rainy (and early summer here, so hardly seasonal weather), which always makes it harder for me to feel positive or hopeful.
But even sunny days are hard right now.
I live alone, and I've been single for nearly 10 years, working in a job that barely respects me as a worker let alone a person. I have my cat and my knitting and the media I enjoy, and beyond that and my family and a handful of friends I have very little else.
My father has dementia and is nearly completely gone. He's not yet 70, so young, and the dementia has moved so fast. It's barely 4 years since the first signs began, and he is now almost completely non-verbal, has lost all continence and spends his days lying in bed with a book open in his hands but no ability to read it.
We (my younger sister and I) knew it was coming, but knowing a thing and living it are horrifically different things.
In order to keep him in care, we have to sell his flat... and therein lies the next heartache. Because Dad was a hoarder who lived in squalor for 15 years, even before the dementia claimed him. And we can't afford to pay for professionals to help us clear out his flat, let alone pay for renovations to ensure we'll get even close to market value for it.
So we have to clean up and throw out 15+ years of accumulated filth and rubbish while also dealing with shame of knowing our father lived in those conditions, and we let him. Couldn't have stopped him, really.
And we have to do it within the next three or four months, so that we have a chance of selling the flat before June next year, so as to pay for Dad's residential care before the cost goes up and he gets evicted.
And we also have to do all before June because my sister is going to emigrate to the other side of the world with her new husband, to be with his family there. Parents and siblings and niblings are all waiting for them.
And that will leave me here, alone. Dad nearly gone, mostly just a body now. Mum died almost 15 years ago. And sister leaving for her new family on the other side of the world.
Add to that, my beloved cat is ageing and I will probably have to choose in the coming years between treatment I can't afford or the kindest goodbye I can give her.
And I just... I can feel my life, and my joy in life withering. I feel like all I have ahead of me is a hollowing out, a barren prospect of work and sleep and gradual physical decline as I age, and the occasional small bits of joy I can claw with bloodied fingers and grim determination from the implacable granite face of exhaustion and grief and late-capitalist hellscape despair.
And I know how tiny my problems are in the face of the literal fucking genocides, plural, being perpetrated right now. I know how little my complaints are in comparison with the fear of total climate collapse, or the possibility of further economic hardship driving millions into soul-crushing poverty.
And do not mistake me, I am NOT suicidal, nor am I giving in to this depression and despair.
I will persist, and I will keep carving out my tiny joys...
I just... for right here and right now I'm too tired and heartsore to do it without complaint.
I am crying. I hate crying. But right now I can't really do anything else.
In a little while I'll get up, splash water on my face, make myself a cup of tea and something to eat, and sit down to keep knitting a blanket for my sister. I'll even enjoy doing it, or I'll bloody well try to.
Because what else is there?
#personal#grief is hard when the things you're grieving aren't technically gone... yet#depression#suicide mention#some days hope is a delicate and precarious thing#some days hope is bloodied and battered and grimly readying for more#some days hope is very hard to see past the looming despair#today it feels like all three
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Webb detects water vapor in rocky planet-forming zone
Water is essential for life as we know it. However, scientists debate how it reached the Earth and whether the same processes could seed rocky exoplanets orbiting distant stars. New insights may come from the planetary system PDS 70, located 370 light-years away. The star hosts both an inner disk and outer disk of gas and dust, separated by a 5 billion-mile-wide (8 billion kilometer) gap, and within that gap are two known gas-giant planets.
New measurements by NASA’s James Webb Space Telescope’s MIRI (Mid-Infrared Instrument) have detected water vapor in the system’s inner disk, at distances of less than 100 million miles (160 million kilometers) from the star – the region where rocky, terrestrial planets may be forming. (The Earth orbits 93 million miles from our Sun.) This is the first detection of water in the terrestrial region of a disk already known to host two or more protoplanets.
“We’ve seen water in other disks, but not so close in and in a system where planets are currently assembling. We couldn’t make this type of measurement before Webb,” said lead author Giulia Perotti of the Max Planck Institute for Astronomy (MPIA) in Heidelberg, Germany.
“This discovery is extremely exciting, as it probes the region where rocky planets similar to Earth typically form,” added MPIA director Thomas Henning, a co-author on the paper. Henning is co-principal investigator of Webb’s MIRI (Mid-Infrared Instrument), which made the detection, and the principal investigator of the MINDS (MIRI Mid-Infrared Disk Survey) program that took the data.
A Steamy Environment for Forming Planets
PDS 70 is a K-type star, cooler than our Sun, and is estimated to be 5.4 million years old. This is relatively old in terms of stars with planet-forming disks, which made the discovery of water vapor surprising.
Over time, the gas and dust content of planet-forming disks declines. Either the central star’s radiation and winds blow out such material, or the dust grows into larger objects that eventually form planets. As previous studies failed to detect water in the central regions of similarly aged disks, astronomers suspected it might not survive the harsh stellar radiation, leading to a dry environment for the formation of any rocky planets.
Astronomers haven’t yet detected any planets forming within the inner disk of PDS 70. However, they do see the raw materials for building rocky worlds in the form of silicates. The detection of water vapor implies that if rocky planets are forming there, they will have water available to them from the beginning.
“We find a relatively high amount of small dust grains. Combined with our detection of water vapor, the inner disk is a very exciting place,” said co-author Rens Waters of Radboud University in The Netherlands.
What is the Water’s Origin?
The discovery raises the question of where the water came from. The MINDS team considered two different scenarios to explain their finding.
One possibility is that water molecules are forming in place, where we detect them, as hydrogen and oxygen atoms combine. A second possibility is that ice-coated dust particles are being transported from the cool outer disk to the hot inner disk, where the water ice sublimates and turns into vapor. Such a transport system would be surprising, since the dust would have to cross the large gap carved out by the two giant planets.
Another question raised by the discovery is how water could survive so close to the star, when the star’s ultraviolet light should break apart any water molecules. Most likely, surrounding material such as dust and other water molecules serves as a protective shield. As a result, the water detected in the inner disk of PDS 70 could survive destruction.
Ultimately, the team will use two more of Webb’s instruments, NIRCam (Near-Infrared Camera) and NIRSpec (Near-Infrared Spectrograph) to study the PDS 70 system in an effort to glean an even greater understanding.
These observations were taken as part of Guaranteed Time Observation program 1282. This finding has been published in the journal Nature.
The James Webb Space Telescope is the world’s premier space science observatory. Webb is solving mysteries in our solar system, looking beyond to distant worlds around other stars, and probing the mysterious structures and origins of our universe and our place in it. Webb is an international program led by NASA with its partners, ESA (European Space Agency) and the Canadian Space Agency.
TOP IMAGE....This artist’s concept portrays the star PDS 70 and its inner protoplanetary disk. New measurements by NASA’s James Webb Space Telescope have detected water vapor at distances of less than 100 million miles from the star – the region where rocky, terrestrial planets may be forming. This is the first detection of water in the terrestrial region of a disk already known to host two or more protoplanets, one of which is shown at upper right. CREDIT Credits: NASA, ESA, CSA, J. Olmsted (STScI) Download the full-resolution version from the Space Telescope Science Institute.
LOWER IMAGE....A spectrum of the protoplanetary disk of PDS 70, obtained with Webb’s MIRI (Mid-Infrared Instrument), displays a number of emission lines from water vapor. Scientists determined that the water is in the system’s inner disk, at distances of less than 100 million miles from the star – the region where rocky, terrestrial planets may be forming. Download the full-resolution version from the Space Telescope Science Institute. CREDIT Credits: NASA, ESA, CSA, J. Olmsted (STScI) Download the full-resolution version from the Space Telescope Science Institute.
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We arrived at 1a to our hotel, in the rain. It is a room in a cave which is cool. But we didn’t spend much time enjoying the room, as we were tired and also knew we would need to wake up at 7:30a the next day.
Our guide and taxi driver (two separate people) met us at 9a at the hotel. Due to Gokay’s dad being famous in the tourism industry here, somehow his mom and dad convinced the dean of the local tourism school to have one of the grad students give us a two-day personal tour of the area.
He was very knowledgeable, speaks both Turkish and English, and was all around a lovely 30-year-old who’s getting married in 24 days! Had to share his “meet-cute.” His fiancé was on one of his tours, they connected on social media because he thought she was cute. After 2 years of conversing on social media, he asked her on a date… they live 12 hours (driving) apart from each other!
Luckily, it was cloudy but not raining this morning. So, we started at Devrent, a rock formation on the side of the road, which the guide called “imagination valley” because you can see a variety of shapes (e.g. camel and Virgin Mary) in the rock formations aka “fairy chimneys.”
Then we went to two sites, Zelve and Pasabaglari which were both government protected, so we paid to get in. But they were incredible! This area was covered in ash by 3 volcanoes at least 9 million years ago, which created this easy to carve, sandstone. Hence the cave hotels, and also these amazing sites of formations formed by air, water and change in temperature as well as caves dug into the rocks. If you’ve ever been to the indigenous sites near Sedona, it’s similar.
After that we went to a local pottery workshop (Alaaddin), where learned about the pottery of the region and the two types of clay they use. First red terracotta, from the river bottom. And the second was a white clay they mixed with quartz to make it strong. We got to try using their foot powered pottery wheel, with a pottery master, to make terracotta bowls. This was Gokay’s first time doing pottery!
We took a nice walk down the river walk, and then headed to lunch, at an old “kervansaray” (Caravan Palace for the music fans out there). An old inn to bring animals to and stay as a stop during a long journey. We had a fixed menu of soup, borek/appetizers, an entre with meat and rice, and then a fruit dessert. Can’t forget to mention the local wine. Due to the ash this region is great for growing wine grapes.
During lunch it started pouring but somehow the rest of the afternoon we were lucky because we were inside or in caves while it was raining and walking outside when it wasn’t.
We spent the afternoon seeing more caves and rock formations. We saw an old church built into a hill side with old frescos. This church was not government protected, so it was not in great shape. It was under someone’s current cave house that was also a cafe we had tea at as it poured rain.
Next we saw the famous “love valley” which has the most phalic shaped fairy chimneys. It was amazing because it cleared up enough for us to see one of the younger volcanoes of the region covered in snow.
We finished our day at Ortahisar looking out on the large fairy chimney has previously been a castle, because it’s so easily guarded. Sadly, a lot of it has collapsed.
We needed a nap at the end of this long day, but we went out to the local town of Urgup near our hotel and had a local dinner at “Cappadocia restaurant.” It was recommended by the guide and it was yummy.
We were going to do a balloon ride early tomorrow but with the possible rain, it got moved to Wednesday morning, so we have a chill night and tomorrow morning before we go around again.
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Sir Tim Laurence: ‘There is still a lack of clarity amongst people about exactly what English Heritage is’
By William Cash | Published 3 June 2019
The first time I met Sir Tim Laurence, KCVO, CB, ADC, chairman of the English Heritage Trust, was in September 2015, when I was invited to a fundraising dinner at the former London house of Benjamin Franklin, tucked away in a Dickensian street off the Strand. There can’t have been more than a dozen or so patrons present and the Georgian dining room, with bare wooden floorboards, had the feel of an 18th-century naval dining cabin, with Sir Tim very much head of the captain’s table. A 60-year-old former vice admiral about to embark on an eight-year journey into uncharted waters.
Indeed, his appointment marked the beginning of English Heritage’s voyage into the financial unknown. Sir Tim has been chairman of English Heritage since 1 April 2015, when the nation’s guardian body of the historic environment was carved up into two parts, in the most radical shake-up of the funding of our nation’s heritage since the passing of the National Heritage Act – which gave birth to the Historic Buildings and Monuments Commission – exactly 31 years before.
This journey towards financial self-sufficiency was regarded as necessary but also potentially perilous, as it meant that without the backing of HNWs and philanthropists, the nation’s built heritage could be at risk.
The two new parts are ‘Historic England’, which continues with the statutory protection functions of being the government heritage agency, and a new charity, retaining the name ‘English Heritage’, that ‘tells the story of England’ through its 420 sites, ranging from Stonehenge to Iron Bridge, as well as 500,000 paintings and other national treasures and ‘artefacts’.
Crucially, this new charitable trust allows English Heritage to unchain itself from government control, and for the body to ‘formulate its own vision’ for the future. But it also means it can’t rely on government subsidy for much longer: the money runs out in 2022. Hence Sir Tim’s mission to raise more critically needed awareness for a new wave of heritage philanthropy in the private sector.
So, I ask, are enough private and corporate heritage patrons stepping in to ensure that English Heritage can continue to tell the nation’s unique history through its sites? Are would-be donors still under a misconception that our national heritage doesn’t really need help, and that the sector is government-funded?
‘There is still a lack of clarity amongst people about exactly what English Heritage is,’ admits Sir Tim. ‘I think a lot of people still think that we exist to stop them changing the windows in their listed house – fair enough, this perception may take a generation to overcome. There is a growing recognition that we are now a charitable body and we are not publicly funded.’
Part of this ‘perception’ problem emanates from the fact that although English Heritage now operates as a private charity, its 420 historic properties remain in the ownership or guardianship of the state.
Sir Tim points to the recent gift of £2.5 million by Julia and Hans Rausing – the charity’s largest ever single private donation – as a landmark moment in public consciousness in terms of making people aware that English Heritage needs private patrons in order to survive. Sir Tim helped to facilitate the gift through knowing the Rausing family personally. ‘I explained to them what English Heritage was about, and our charitable status,’ says Sir Tim. ‘We then showed them some of the various projects that we were doing and I asked, “Do any of these strike a chord?”’
The gift will be put towards the cost of a dramatic new footbridge at Tintagel Castle in Cornwall (as featured on the cover of English Heritage’s 2019 handbook). Set 57 metres above the sea, the new bridge (designed by Ney & Partners engineers and William Matthews Associates architectural practice) will open in the summer and will restore Tintagel’s ‘spirit of place’ to when the 13th-century castle on the mainland and island was connected by a strip of land that made the castle especially difficult to conquer when it was the home of the Earls of Cornwall. (The Arthurian legend connection may help with the 250,000 annual visitors, but ‘legend’ is the apt word.)
The gift is also an example of how personal relationships – as well as targeting a new breed of arts philanthropist – are key in helping to achieve a target of raising £80 million (through ‘match funding’) by 2023.
In April, in an innovative move endorsed by Sir Tim, the charity is teaming up with the Gagosian gallery for an exhibition of self-portraits within the Gagosian’s übercool gallery space near Claridge’s in Mayfair.
The exhibition will showcase one of Rembrandt’s most famous self-portraits, which is currently hanging at Kenwood in Hampstead (one of very few London properties in the English Heritage portfolio). ‘We see this as an opportunity to engage a new audience,’ says Sir Tim, and the partnership involves a series of fundraising events.
This move towards approaching the sort of HNW collector who may be more used to giving money to the Serpentine Pavilion is a testament to how Sir Tim himself doesn’t fit into any sort of single chairman’s uniform. I have heard him talk passionately and with great command of detail on various occasions since 2015. Behind the checked blue shirt and distinguished naval service CV is an eloquent, ultramodern and unstuffy ambassador for Britain’s heritage.
‘I think the kind of people interested in giving substantial sums to a charity are not usually people that like to fit into a category,’ he says. ‘They are all individuals and they are all different, and in a sense I see this from the other side of the fence because people come to me to ask for money and I don’t like to be pigeon-holed or corralled into a group or called something.’
It is significant that the charity’s fundraising literature doesn’t use the word ‘patron’, preferring to seek ‘guardians’ (the minimum donation is £2,500) to ‘preserve the places where the story of England was forged and where it can be retold’.
Our meeting takes place in a boardroom with a wall decorated with the photo backdrop of the Chysauster Ancient Village in Cornwall, one of the most famous Romano-British villages in Britain (the trust looks after 53 Roman sites). This peculiar sense of ‘place’ is partly what makes England’s literary, political, military naval and architectural history unique, as the story of England is, in effect, the story of our buildings, or what’s left of them.
What’s important when talking to potential heritage philanthropists, says Sir Tim, is to understand what attracts them personally to a particular project. It may be that it is close to where they live. People often want to invest in something that is tangible and physical, rather than just a straight donation into the pot.
‘This was certainly the case with the Rausing family,’ he says. ‘They did a lot of due diligence. Thanks to their generosity, people will be better able to enjoy Tintagel. It is an inspiring gift for an inspiring site.’
In some cases, donors are happy to give a gift and ‘stand back from it’, but most people want a closer involvement in where their money is going. Others see their gifts more like an investment, asking what the return will be for the charity, or for society. What do people get out of it?
This brings us to the subject of ‘naming’. In an art gallery it’s relatively easy to put someone’s name up on a wall, I say, but it’s different if somebody wants to put their name up on the nave of a ruined abbey or an Avebury ancient stone.
‘I think naming has its place,’ says Sir Tim. ‘I think some people like to have their name associated with an item – one thinks of the Sainsbury wing. There are others who just want to remain anonymous. Everybody is different.’
Interestingly, he adds, two of the most significant gifts to English Heritage have been from non-British origins. The Rausing family are Swedish (their fortune was made by Tetra Pak founder Ruben Rausing), while the largest donation – to support the £3.6 million refurbishment of Iron Bridge in Shropshire (including 2,400 litres of paint to return the bridge to its original red-earth brown colour) – was from a German trust.
‘Why did they choose to support an iconic British landmark?’ asks Sir Tim rhetorically ‘What motivates them to make such a significant contribution to English Heritage?’ Such questions are what Sir Tim and English Heritage’s development director, Luke Purser (who also hosts various fundraising events), think about every day.
One of the things I have always loved about English Heritage is how it uses an imaginative, sometimes quirky and invariably forwardthinking approach to deciding how best to preserve the array of buildings and structures in its care, as well as awarding blue plaques in London to notable former residents. Every year it protects the new and the old, and has to stick its neck out in deciding where funding goes and what must be protected and preserved.
When I bring up the subject of the row over the increased ‘politicisation’ of the National Trust, Sir Tim won’t be drawn into battle, carefully choosing his words when comparing English Heritage (just over a million members) with the National Trust (more than 5 million). I detect a whiff of rivalry when I bring up the subject. ‘I don’t want to say things that will criticise the National Trust,’ he says. ‘They are a fantastic organisation. I have been a member of them for a very long time. A large organisation like that, you can’t please everybody.’
Yet they have alienated a lot of their core members, I say. ‘English Heritage does not want to politicise our sites. We are interested in the facts and telling the stories,’ says Sir Tim, ever the diplomat. When I ask if he has ever ‘winced’ at some of the NT’s pro-feminist or LGBT signage, he refuses to wade in: ‘There is a difference in the way we interpret things.’ Does he see Brexit as an opportunity for English Heritage?
‘For us, it is,’ he says. ‘Particularly the English identity within the British identity. We have given quite a lot of thought to what English identity is, because it has been hijacked by extreme elements, and actually I think there is a very interesting debate to be had about the brilliant things about being English, going back in history and the extraordinary mix of peoples that live in England, let alone the greater mix in the wider UK.’
Having helped English Heritage raise some corporate money for the London blue plaque scheme, I know that one reason international law firms and banks like to support English Heritage is that they feel that they are cementing their relationship with what makes Britain unique. It’s almost a way of celebrating their corporate citizenship.
What, I ask, is his strategy for getting more big banks and law firms to be corporate guardians, and perhaps to give money to an English Heritage project rather than sponsor an art exhibition?
‘Part of the reason many international companies are here is because of our great heritage, our stability and tradition, and the thought that London will be a great centre in 50-100 years’ time,’ says Sir Tim. ‘An awful lot of their employees are interested in history and heritage and would want to identify with the first building in the world to be built with an iron structure. It’s a great selling point’.
I ask if he ever gets depressed seeing the vast amounts that financial firms give to sponsor art exhibitions. Does he wish they would start being a bit more generous towards our built heritage?
‘I’m an optimist,’ he says. ‘It is easier for London-based companies to support things that happen in London. A big exhibition at the British Museum is an easier sell, so we have a slightly harder task because we are very distributed around the country – but I think that one of our great attractions is that our 420 sites are all around the country.’
To this end, Sir Tim and Luke Purser are looking into new ways of accessing heritage philanthropy on a regional level, as well as building networks of City and private client industry donors. The difficulty is partly that – as former English Heritage chief executive Simon Thurley used to maintain – there exists a form of philanthropy discrimination which decrees that old buildings don’t quite have the same cultural status as paintings that need to be ‘saved’ for the nation. Is this perception changing, I ask? Are buildings catching up?
‘I would like to say yes, but I’m not sure it is. Maybe the Rausing donation is an example of that change.’
Finally, partly because Sir Tim is married to Princess Anne, the only daughter of Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Philip, I ask him why there is no royal patron for English Heritage. A smile breaks out on Sir Tim’s face. ‘Before I approach my adopted family, I would want to make sure that English Heritage can stand on its own two feet.’
#just in case people start deleting their articles#decided to just copy everything here and post#at least i'll have a copy of my own#i still cannot find my screenshots of his interview with children that makes me think i probably have deleted them already#emailed the school back in october but never got a reply#pfffft#so scouring the internet for all articles i could find and copying them here#tim laurence#article#interview
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