1 - 20 of 94 Works by lightgetsin
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Essek Thelyss comes to Soltryce to deliver guest lectures and, on the side, cultivate the brand new Archmage of Domestic Protections. He’s hoping that Caleb Widogast will oblige him by picking up his predecessor’s interest in conspiring to steal Luxon beacons, after so rudely murdering Da’leth mere weeks before the culmination of their schemes.
Essek is prepared for espionage. He is not prepared to find a love that will change the course of his life.
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I glanced in the mirror on my way out, and blanched a little. That guy looked like he'd gotten less than three hours of shitty sleep on his dad's shitty sofa, and then had only the latest in a long, shitty line of long, shitty days.
"Yeah," I said to my reflection, "I'd hit that."
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Jamie had broken his wrist as a kid, and promptly panicked that he'd never hit a baseball or shoot a puck again. His dad had talked him through it, and showed him the x-rays and explained how PT would work. "And sometimes, you'll heal stronger," he'd finished up. "If you do the work. If you're lucky."
Series
- Part 3 of Faster
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Tyler winked at him. "Hey, want me to act all demure and nervous about it? That could be fun."
The mind boggled. "No," Jamie said firmly.
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"You're too young," was the first thing Olivia Pope ever said to her, while their hands were still clasped in a shake.
"I know," Mellie said. Too young to be president even if she were a man. And good genetics along with a lifelong skincare regime didn't help, either. The American people, as a body, couldn't spell gravitas if you gave them a dictionary. But they sure as hell wanted it.
"It's fine," Olivia Pope said. "I can sell it."
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Jamie's supposed to boyfriend this shit right up, and Tyler wants to see that.
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Which was how Jamie found himself on the living room floor of Tyler's unfurnished house in the middle of the best third date of his life, arguing over sex toy assembly.
Comes before Faster.
Series
- Part 1 of Faster
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"Okay," he says, "You know how when you're on a breakaway, and you've got a couple D-men on you? Like, right behind you. You can't see them, but you can feel them right there coming for you?" Jamie nods. "The only thing to do is to be faster than them." Tyler says. "You can't turn and look, you can't slow down. You've just . . . you've just got to skate harder. It's like that."
Series
- Part 2 of Faster
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Whatever. It wasn't like Jeff was under any illusions that Mike was deep or something.
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"You're on Puck Daddy," Taylor said, instead of a greeting.
Sidney sank back into the pillows. "So? What's new?"
"The headline is 'Best Hockey Player in the World Sidney Crosby Taken Out by Eight Year Old, Breaks Arm in Mite Hockey Game.'"
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"Sid," Geno said, jogging down the stairs two days later. "You not like jizz. Is like shoes thing, or like chunky peanut butter thing?" Sidney had strong feelings about his shoes, but he grudgingly acknowledged that manufacturers continued to issue updated models every few months, so his running shoes were never quite the same even though he always bought the same brand and style. Chunky peanut butter, on the other hand, was inviolate. You did not fuck with the chunky peanut butter.
Or, as I titled the document, Jizz: a love story.
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"Yeah," he said. "This sucked." There were some ironic cheers. "So let's end it the best we can," Eric continued. "The Annual Hurricanes Summer Barbecue. My place. Tuesday. Be there. Bring beer. Bring your kids. Don't bring the season with you."
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"Better, yes?" Geno said at last. "Do what Sid likes."
"I don't know what I like," Sidney whined.
"Find out," Geno said. "Is okay. My dick here for you."
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Though I Sang in My Chains Like the Sea by lightgetsin for Lysimache
Fandoms: Rivers of London - Ben Aaronovitch
20 Dec 2012
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“The world has changed. Yes. I receive undeniable proof of that every day when that electronic coffee pot of yours starts up on its own.”
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“You need a fucking keeper,” Wardo rages. “Someone apparently needs to make you drink orange juice and stop you from blowing up your appliances and spray you down with a fire extinguisher every now and then, for the love of God. Why the fuck don’t you have people doing these things?”
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I squirmed, pinned between him and the counter. "It’s not – look, I don’t run to schedule, okay?" I said. "Don’t – I’m not easy."
"You don’t say." Okay, that much sarcasm was uncalled for.
"I mean it," I said doggedly. "I’m not one of those ‘insert coin, pull lever’ girls."
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Harry was suffering; an old hurt had flared up like the bullet in John’s arm when the weather changed. And he had, in something close to a miracle, asked for help. John passed a rueful hand over his face – Harry’s definition of ‘help’ was, of course, completely fucking insane.
Series
- Part 5 of On the Count of Three
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“True,” John said, wondering a bit helplessly how to condense the result of a decade’s worth of negotiated boundaries and compromises and polite fictions -- and giant, still smoking craters where there had once been polite fictions. It kept one or both of them sufficiently happy a sufficient amount of the time. It was the greatest accomplishment of his life. But hell if he could explain it.
Series
- Part 4 of The Spirit and the Letter
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“Because,” Dresden said, “you’re going to bring me back.” He hesitated, looking somewhat sour. “You’re the only one who can, apparently.”
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“Um,” John said, looking honestly taken aback, like he hadn’t planned to say that. Like he hadn’t planned to think it, maybe.
“Hang on,” I said, scrubbing my hands over my face. “I’m rearranging the list of the top five most disturbing things you’ve ever said to me, it’ll take a minute.”
Follows Containment Policy
Series
- Part 4 of On the Count of Three