#elsajeni

What is a cabinet?

It’s basically a coffee milkshake -- coffee ice cream, coffee syrup, and milk. 

elsajeni replied to your post “fatfemme-inist replied to your post “chicleeblair replied to your...”

Sirius joins the thriving Galveston ghost tour industry, with the distinction that his is the only tour that includes the haunted Walmart

I’ve found a few for you, dear! And here’s a noah’s ark tag if you’d like to find more.

Stowaways by PokeChan

Aziraphale finds Crowley stowed away in the hull along with a few hundred Mesopotamian children ranging in age from infants to teens.

Crowley, in the middle of passing around a bread basket that endlessly refills itself, looks up like a deer in headlights. “Okay, I can explain this…”

All Creatures That Have the Breath of Life by Elsajeni

Aziraphale is lifting off before he's thought about it. His wings are wet, approaching sodden, and he's not at all confident he'll keep aloft long enough to reach the drifting winged body, never mind hauling a half-drowned angel back to the Ark. But... well, you have to try, don't you?

Closer up, when he can see the figure as more than just a shadow against the water, he realizes he's wrong again— the spreading wings are black-feathered. No bird, and also no angel.

Black-feathered wings, and a black robe on a long, lean frame, and long red hair drifting loose in the current.

Oh. Oh, no.

In which an angel (perhaps unwisely) rescues a demon, (probably unwisely) reaches a temporary truce with him, and (definitely unwisely) contemplates his own feelings.

Before the Water Rises by Vitreous_Humor

As Aziraphale walked among the perfumed groves, he held out his hand and the trees he touched went from blossom to fruit with a delighted shiver. It was a sullen kind of rebellion, to spend miracles so frivolously. It was as if he were declaring to the world that the people who weren't on the ark still deserved something good, something precious and divine. *** The water is coming, and on their own, Aziraphale and Crawley have no idea what to do or how to do it. Together, however, things may be a little different.

On A Wing And A Prayer by RainyDayDecaf

For the second time in his eternal life, Aziraphale disobeys the Almighty and saves a child from the Great Flood. Not to be outdone, Crawly saves just a few more.

Crowley never sat as still as he did, Aziraphale thought, than when he was letting Aziraphale paint his nails.

This little tradition of theirs had started some time in the early 1970s, in that brief period Crowley had spent experimenting with punk before he'd discovered disco. He'd swanned in to the bookshop one day in a tartan (tartan! Aziraphale had never been so vindicated) miniskirt and leather jacket, nails blackened and lumpy, and Aziraphale had looked at him aghast and said, "My dear, this will never do."

Crowley had complained, of course. All supposedly part of the look. But then again, Aziraphale acknowledged in the most private corner of his labyrinthine mind, Crowley was also never one to pass up an opportunity to let Aziraphale touch him.

So Aziraphale spent the next fifty years soaking and massaging, filing and buffing -- touching, so much touching -- all the while resisting the urge to bring those hands to his face and lean across the small distance between them.

They'd gone through punk black, and disco glitter. The neon shades of the 80s and slightly terrifying transfer craze of the 90s. Nanny Ashtoreth's deep crimson. And now, well, now was the beginning of a new era and Crowley hadn't asked for anything in particular.

"What do you fancy?" Aziraphale asked.

"Whatever you like, angel," Crowley replied. "Your choice."

"Oh?" Aziraphale flushed, his courage rising with his colour, and brought Crowley's knuckles to his mouth.

Nightmares

Wedge thinks Luke’s nightmares are bad.

It’s hard, watching him twitch and sweat through the night, working out if he can be settled back into sleep or whether he needs waking up. They get worse over the years that Wedge knows Luke. There’s a period after the incident on Bespin where they seem to come every night, and every tactic Wedge knows is powerless to stop them.

(It’s not that Wedge doesn’t have nightmares. He’s told he does. But Wedge doesn’t dream–not that he remembers, anyway. Any power such night terrors might have over him seems insignificant when he doesn’t know what they are.)

But however bad Wedge thinks Luke’s nightmares are, they have nothing on Mara’s.

Even after they sorted out the basics of what lay between the three of them, Mara never liked sharing a bed. She’d sneak off in the evenings, find somewhere else to tuck herself up and lay her head. Sometimes Luke would go with her. Wedge didn’t mind. Mara needed space, he got that.

It’s only when they all fall asleep exhausted in the same bed one night and Wedge wakes up with a hand to his throat, struggling for air, that he realises just how much space she needs.

Wedge struggles, trying to pull her hand from his throat, not wanting to hurt her. He tosses and turns, trying to work out where Luke is, how he’s going to get out of this.

Just as Wedge thinks he’s losing the fight, breath leaving him entirely, strong arms tug Mara off him. Luke manhandles her into his lap, wrapping her up as she thrashes, muttering to her. Wedge scrambles out the way at the head of the bed, taking deep breaths to try and recover. Mara is still asleep, eyes closed.

“Mara, Mara,” Luke says, gripping her wrists tightly against her chest. “Wake up.”

She finally does. It takes her several long moments to come back to herself. Luke doesn’t slacken his grip on her. A dawning look of terror emerges on her face when she takes the scene in, the red marks on Wedge’s throat that may well turn into bruises.

“Fuck,” she says. “Me?” she asks, only half a question: she knows it must have been her. Wedge can only nod. “Fuck, I knew this was a bad idea.”

It doesn’t need to be said. Maybe this entire thing was a bad idea. Gambling on the idea that they could make this work between all three of them. They’ve all got too many issues.

But Wedge’s finest quality is that he’s a stubborn fucking bastard when he wants to be–or so he’s been told–and he’s not ready to give this up just yet.

He offers his hand out to her. A peace offering. She regards him suspiciously, like she can’t believe that he’d offer that trust back up. But she takes it.

YES IT IS because of the goatee! It’s a suspicious choice of facial hair for sure, haha. But it cracks me up that Allston made sure to tell the reader that it makes Ton look like an Imperial warlord, but he didn’t bother mentioning details like, say, the man’s hair color? Lmao. So I ended up with a plot bunny! I haven’t actually written much for this yet, but I will share my rambly little outline! ^_^ 

“Idea: mission where Ton has to play at being a low level imp warlord when undercover and Face tags along to help him out and ends up pretending to be his second in command. Face despairs over Ton’s shitty, grandiose, over the top acting (the professional in him is offended) and he’s baffled that anyone buys it. But lots of wannabe warlords are shitty, grandiose, and over the top, so it works. Bonus if Face was meant to go in as the warlord, but in a case of mistaken identity, someone looked at Phanan and was all “ah! Obviously it’s you!” Ton just looks more the part. Also, he tries to wind Face up throughout the whole ordeal, knowing that Face is too good of an actor to break character, and knowing that their safety means that he can’t break without endangering the mission. So Ton goes all in, and it makes Face want to SCREAM. Ton is just super smug and self-satisfied throughout this whole ordeal. He makes fun of Face for being a pretty boy at least once. “Hey, is that all there is to this acting thing? I guess being such a pretty boy is what got you attention, not your acting chops, my friend.” And Face is simultaneously pissed (he is a GREAT actor, thank you very much; he didn’t endure years and years of acting lessons and deportment lessons to take this abuse; he displayed more acting talent when he was first learning to walk than Ton has in this whole entire kriffing WEEK) but also he’s kind of dumbstruck because Ton called him pretty? And he knows logically that the pretty boy thing was a jest and an insult, but it *does* things to Face. It doesn’t help the bad case of pining he’s got going on, not one iota. Does Ton?? Find him attractive? Yes? No? Uncertain ;m; What do?”

List all the things you’re currently working on in as much or little detail as you’d like, then tag some friends to see what they’re working on: writing, art, gifsets, whatever.

Tagged by @elsajeni (thank you)!  She split hers into “active” and “abandoned,” which I’m... only sort of going to do, because everything aside from The Fic (y’all know the one by now) gets ruthlessly forced to the eternal backburner to languish the second it starts looking like it’d be enough work that it’d interfere with The Fic.  Work/family life/social life/my goddamn brainweasels all interfere hard enough with the fic as it is.

Active WIPs, or: The Fic, The Magnum Opus, The Giant Sprawling Hobbit Fix-It (that @rakshasi-sue says I am not allowed to call a fix-it despite its happy ending due to all the horrible whumpy nonsense I gleefully pile onto the characters in the meantime)

Chapter Seven is happening!  I have no idea yet what chapter seven will actually be about!  Dunlendings with salt mines!  Stonefoots with massive self-contained chemosynthesis-based cave ecoystems!  My ill-advised tendency to let the fact that I personally think dicks are hilarious influence my actual writing!  (I definitely called my local library and asked the poor librarian how the fuck I was supposed to research methods of salt mining in medieval Europe though!  “Is this for school” she asked!  And I had to stutter my way through “nnooo this is for a... uh... a fantasy novel...”!)

chapter 7 is ~5,600 words so far, bringing the fic’s total up to ~263,500 words.  (FINALLY BEATING ORDER OF THE PHOENIX, HAH.)

Not Abandoned, Hopefully Will Not Take Me Much Longer

@setnet asked “POV” for the fic meme so I’m planning to scribble out the dwarven perspective on the Daeron thing (though @setnet, please feel free to request a POV of something else specifically if you’d prefer)

Probably Abandoned, At Least Until The Hobbit Fic Is Done (In Approximately 50 Years At This Rate, Ugh)

a.) Yoda dies fighting Sidious, Obi-Wan takes Luke & Leia and runs away with Dexter Jettster post-Order 66 to raise them as Jedi as best he can on a merchant freighter (meanwhile, Katooni joins the Ohnaka Gang)  (meanwhile, an injured-but-definitely-alive Mace Windu finds his tiny grandpadawan Caleb Dume and they start searching the galaxy for other surviving Jedi while helping the fledgeling Rebellion)

b.) an even-by-my-standards-stunningly self-indulgent fic where Ned Stark receives a whole slew of prophetic dreams (and a dæmon direwolf) the night Aerys murders his father and brother, successfully convinces Jon and Robert that the rebellion should not be about seating someone new on the Iron Throne but rather breaking the kingdoms back into seven, and then rescues Elia and her children ostensibly as bargaining chips to get Lyanna back from her captors (but also because Ned is Ned and Ned thinks killing children is bad to do because hes not a horrible monster)

c.) ah yes, the Damerons

d.) Obi-Wan Leaves The Jedi Over A Misunderstanding; Jedi Apprentice!verse,  could also be titled Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan Talk Past Each Other: The Fic (don’t worry Qui-Gon manages to straighten things out and bring him back but only after a contrivedly long series of adventures that feature truly ridiculous amounts of Missed Him by That Much)

e.) Obi-Wan/Satine year-on-Mandalore (can I even call myself an Obitine shipper if I don’t have at least one of these I mean honestly)

f.) Obi-Wan/Commander Cody, Fake/Pretend Relationship For Purposes of Undercover Work (doylistically it’s also for the excuse to have Obi-Wan wear pretty skirts & show lots of skin)

g.) When Sidious commands Dooku to kill Ventress to prove his loyalty, Dooku agrees to his face then immediately comms Ventress, orders her home RIGHT NOW YOUNG LADY, reveals the whole plot to the Senate, helps the Jedi overthrow Sidious & de-chip the clones, then looks really smug when the Republic agrees to recognise the Confederacy as an independent body and there’s peace in the galaxy and the Jedi aren’t allowed to hunt him down as a Sith because he’s out of their judisdiction now, and in fact they have to stand there next to Republic dignitaries at diplomatic functions between the two political entities and furiously grind their teeth at his existence (meanwhile he hasn’t noticed how much lighter his and Ventress’ auras are slowly getting oops)  (meanwhile Ventress and Obi-Wan keep meeting at these same diplomatic functions and dancing incredible Force-assisted tangoes together (meanwhile in a 20 mile radius of this event bodices ripping men turning bisexual it was amazing the end))

h.) listen unfortunately I’m probably going to write a “while living in the Blue Mnts the Ereboreans encounter a dark-haired Noldo with a very sad, very beautiful voice who’s just wandering up and down the shoreline spilling haunting laments all over the landscape & they eventually get fed up & just kidnap him underground and use sacred hospitality as an excuse to be very stern about one’s need to eat” because please someone take care of my poor precious kinslaying baby

i.) I’m not realistically planning to write this one but.  Stratford Festival did a production of The Changeling by Thomas Middleton and it was very good and the ending was a good ending, it was perfect and cathartic and I am so glad of it but Have You Considered A Version Where The Bad Guys Win, Sincerely, SilentStep

(it’s so easy, listen, when Alcemero locks Joanna in the room and confronts De Flores with his knowledge of the murders right outside, within earshot, De Flores hears enough and then, breathing heavily, shouts Joanna!  Permission!  and there’s a two-and-a-half-second extremely charged silence before she cries Granted! in a voice that nearly breaks-- and De Flores leaps forward and kills Alcemero.  And then the others come in but the two of them don’t even need to discuss their story to get it straight: O, Lord de Piracquo, here is the body of the man who murdered your brother, we are so sorry you could not kill him yourself but when Joanna found Lord Alonzo’s ring in her husband’s medicine-chest and confronted him he threatened her but she had already told De Flores as insurance so he locked her up and tried to kill De Flores intending to kill her afterward but De Flores killed him in self-defense-- oh, right, sure, he had an alibi for the time of the murder, but that was because he’d paid Antonio to actually do the deed & then disappear.

The innocent Tony is put to death.  Jasperino flees in the night.  Tomazo departs with some closure.  And for his services, Joanna manages to suggest in such a way that her father thinks it was his own idea, De Flores gets her hand in marriage.

She turns up pregnant quick enough that rumors start that her son is actually Alcemero’s-- he does resemble De Flores, but it’s hard for people who won’t look past his father’s birthmark to tell.  eventually the kid goes to his mother and asks her, shaky-voiced, if she’s sure he’s his father’s son, what if he’s not, what if he’s really the son of a murderer--

and Joanna goes to her knees and takes his shoulders in her hands and looks him steadily in the eyes and says, low-voiced and sure, An thou wert the son of two murderers, it could not make thee other than thou art, nor would we love thee less.)

I mean uh..................... I have morals

I’m cracking up at the looks on their faces - what song is this a riff of?

It’s to the chorus of Lizzo’s “Truth Hurts”. They are very unimpressed by my rendition :D 

underanothername replied to your photo “Me, singing in the kitchen: Why cats great till they gotta be...”

Wow, they look like Real Adult Cats now!

They do look so grown up! Still tiny, but unmistakably adults now. 

lupin5th replied to your post “I made a fairly comprehensive to-do list in Google Tasks and I’ve been...”

congrats! =) and good hunting for the new clock! that`s often very dependent on luck so I wish lots of that! =)

I found one! I was looking for something either googie-style or midcentury modern, and I found this cool institutional-lab-in-a-50s-scifi-film looking one: 

melayneseahawk replied to your photo “Me, singing in the kitchen: Why cats great till they gotta be...”

Sam, why are you awake? I know there's a time zone difference, but whenever I see your early-morning posts on my feed, I know I'm up about two hours too late.

The cats, like me, are morning people :D 

shirokou replied to your post “I made a fairly comprehensive to-do list in Google Tasks and I’ve been...”

THE MYSTERIOUS FIST BUMP IS JUST A TITLE LIKE THE DOCTOR. (and yay! Ghost came with you!)

IDK she might have done it before I moved :D 

LOL the Doctor, the Master, and the Fistbump. Sounds about right. 

elsajeni replied to your post “Sam, do the Cryptids ever try to climb up your leg while you're up and...”

maybe she's concerned that you also aren't allowed on the counters and you're going to get in trouble

LOL very possible! They seem to think the counters in the kitchen are physically impossible to get onto, and I have not disabused them of this notion. 

spaci1701 replied to your post “I made a fairly comprehensive to-do list in Google Tasks and I’ve been...”

Why not get a clock motor and build your own custom clock? You can use anything you want - maybe pics of the sisters and such the hands for paws?

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Good Omens (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens) Additional Tags: Noah's Ark, Scene: Flood in Mesopotamia 3004 BC (Good Omens), Near Drowning, Mouth-to-Mouth, an early and temporary version of the Arrangement, let's become aware of some complicated feelings and then repress them for 5000 years, Hurt/Comfort Summary:

Aziraphale is lifting off before he's thought about it. His wings are wet, approaching sodden, and he's not at all confident he'll keep aloft long enough to reach the drifting winged body, never mind hauling a half-drowned angel back to the Ark. But... well, you have to try, don't you?

Closer up, when he can see the figure as more than just a shadow against the water, he realizes he's wrong again— the spreading wings are black-feathered. No bird, and also no angel.

Black-feathered wings, and a black robe on a long, lean frame, and long red hair drifting loose in the current.

Oh. Oh, no.

In which an angel (perhaps unwisely) rescues a demon, (probably unwisely) reaches a temporary truce with him, and (definitely unwisely) contemplates his own feelings.

***

Rec Ahoy!