Lemonade_Soda



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    “You don’t get it.”

    “Well, of course I don’t get it,” he says. “You’ve barely said anything about it.”

    “Because it’s hard, all right?” Maybe you shouldn’t eat the rest of the mango. You might rip the poor thing to shreds, make a mess of yourself and his desk, all in the name of what? Showing your hand, too? “Don’t you see how hard it is to put your life on the line every day, without a second thought, and then choke up over… over…”

    Sylus doesn’t give you the words. “Go on,” he says. “Say it.” 

    Your jaw tightens. He drew it out of you. The words on your tongue and the heat in your face. That’s what you’ll say later, if anyone asks. “Over sex, okay?”

    ---

    Or: Night of Secrecy was supposed to happen. Supposed to. Except it didn’t. And there’s a reason why it didn’t.

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    22 Jan 2026

  2. Public Bookmark 21

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    For Dionysus gave her himself when she was at her lowest. For he saw her worst, her misery and loved her all the same. If something so pure was allowed to rest at her hand, Ariadne would protect and cherish it with all her soul.

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    27 Nov 2024

  3. Public Bookmark 8

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    Things Jane Fairfax and Frank Churchill might have been thinking/doing while everyone else was distracted by picnics.

    I use some of Austen's text to fit the pieces of my version of their plotline together with their actual plotline in the novel. It's meant to be canon-compliant.

    This work isn't intended to serve a particular adaptation (most versions of Emma don't deal with the word puzzles, for example), but it's fairly compatible with them all.

    This is actually an extensive rewrite of a fic I wrote 23 years ago. I was super-unsatisfied with it then. It's only slightly better now. LOL.

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    03 Oct 2024

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    “This week on Buzzfeed Unsolved we discuss the thirty-year-old mystery of the disappearance of Peter Quill.”

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    03 Oct 2024

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    Kaveh smiles up at the stranger. "Sorry, he's right! I am taken. By him. But he doesn't know it yet."

    What.

    "Wait, what did you mean by that?" Al-Haitham asks faintly.

    "Oh, that?" Kaveh scoffs. "You're a little dense. Obviously, I meant exactly what I said. I wouldn't want to be kept by anybody but you."

    "But we are—" Al-Haitham trips over his words, trailing behind Kaveh as he walks purposefully through the city. "We aren't. Together. Neither of us has confirmed anything of the sort."

    Kaveh gives him a derisory look. "And what, we don't act like it? Some things don't have to be put into words to be understood. Ah, I forgot. Haravatat. You probably wouldn't accept anything else any other way."

    "It is not logical to make assumptions without empirical evidence."

    "You scholarly types," Kaveh mutters. "Always so particular."

    So. Al-Haitham is in love with Kaveh. This has got to be somebody's fault.

    Cue the five stages of grief.

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    03 Oct 2024