Saturday, April 18th, 2026 05:02 pm
Title: Exposed
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Ianto
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 200 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 497 - Ghost town at [community profile] drabble_zone
Summary: Ianto is painfully aware of how much he stands out. A double drabble.

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Saturday, April 18th, 2026 01:21 am
The April [community profile] crowdfunding Creative Jam is now open with a theme of "Progress." Come give us prompts, or claim some for your own inspiration.


What I Have Written



From My Prompts



Saturday, April 18th, 2026 12:40 am
People have expressed interest in deep topics, so this list focuses on philosophical questions.

How important is freedom of the press to a healthy society?

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Friday, April 17th, 2026 11:18 pm
Thick, Sticky, Morass
By Dialecticdreamer/Sarah Williams
Part 3 of ?
Word count (story only): 1285
[Morning of Thursday, 9 November of 2017]


:: The first update on Jasper’s condition puts Jules in the middle of an ethical conundrum, even though he has no influence on the situation. That’s another layer of complication. Part of the “Lodestar” arc, set in the Polychrome Heroics universe. ::




Jules closed the twelfth file box and locked it. His back remained toward the door as he picked up the thirteenth box to fill from the file cabinets when someone kicked at the door frame. “Hey, you’re Jules, right? It’s lunchtime, and it’s gonna go fast. We ended up having a sort of chili competition today.” The woman’s voice was warm and musical, but so high-pitched that a listener could have mistaken her for a preteen.

Turning, the young man checked the file cabinet, locked it, then checked every cabinet before locking the empty plastic box. Then Jules picked up his phone and tucked it into his pocket. “Thanks for waiting,” he offered. When he reached the door, he locked it behind himself with the code that the security officer had assigned to him.
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Friday, April 17th, 2026 09:34 pm
Today is National Haiku Day.

The light of a candle by Yosa Buson [translated by Edith Shiffert]

The light of a candle
is transferred to another candle—
spring twilight.
Friday, April 17th, 2026 02:35 pm
Today is mostly cloudy and hot. It's 83°F already. :/

We went out to Market on the Prairie at the fairgrounds. This was mostly flea market stuff and a few crafters. I picked up a couple of hand-painted bookmarks and three plant stands. \o/

We also stopped at Whiteside Gardens for the last day of their Spring Spectacular. They had a craft table and a bubble station out. :D I picked up a celandine poppy and Doug got a yellow-green hosta.

The first field is sprouting with corn, which is odd because corn is a warm-season crop that won't sprout well in cold weather. Soybeans are usually sown first. The only thing I can think of is that, if someone's planting by measuring soil temperature, things are really fucked up for the soil to be corn-warm in mid-April.

I fed the birds. I've seen a few house finches.

I put out water for the birds.

EDIT 4/17/26 -- I planted the new hosta with others in the forest garden.

I also moved a couple of indoor flats outside to get some sun, and uncovered the mixed plants in the water jug greenhouses.

EDIT 4/17/26 -- I planted the celandine poppy in the new shade garden at the east end of the savanna.

I've seen a male cardinal and a fox squirrel with nipples. I've seen a male cardinal and a fox squirrel with nipples. I heard a bluejay screaming but didn't see it.

EDIT 4/17/26 -- I was going to do more planting, but the wind has picked up so much that I just brought in the flats of seedlings instead. :/

EDIT 4/17/26 -- I did a bit of work around the patio.

EDIT 4/17/26 -- I did more work around the patio.

EDIT 4/17/26 -- We picked up sticks from about the first third of the south lot, starting at the garden shed in the east and working down to the birdgift tree. So that will be ready to mow later.

EDIT 4/17/26 -- I did more work around the patio.

As it is now dark, I am done for the night.
Friday, April 17th, 2026 06:07 pm
 

Title: Safety In Numbers
Fandom: The Fantastic Journey
Author: 
[personal profile] badly_knitted
Characters: Varian, Fred, Jonathan Willaway, Scott, Liana, Sil-El.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Set right after Funhouse
Summary: Having rescued Willaway from Apollonius’ clutches and reached the next zone, the travellers make camp for the night.
Word Count: 1150
Written For: Prompt 286 – Working Together at 
[community profile] fandomweekly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own The Fantastic Journey, or the characters. They belong to their creators.
 
 


Friday, April 17th, 2026 05:56 pm

 

Title: Miraculous Recovery – Follows ‘
Stay With Me
Author: 
[personal profile] badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 732
Spoilers: Set post-Children of Earth. Fix-it.
Summary: Ianto died, he’s pretty sure of that, but now he’s alive again…
Written For: [personal profile] toomanyghosts
’ prompt: any; any; better than I expected, at [community profile] threesentenceficathon.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
 


 
Friday, April 17th, 2026 01:22 pm
There really could be nothing else!


Friday, April 17th, 2026 12:11 am
Today's theme is Merlin.

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Thursday, April 16th, 2026 09:44 pm
These are the content notes for "Walnut Park."

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Thursday, April 16th, 2026 09:34 pm
These are the location notes for "Walnut Park."

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Thursday, April 16th, 2026 09:08 pm
This poem came out of the March 3, 2026 Poetry Fishbowl. It was inspired by a prompt from [personal profile] fuzzyred and a conversation with [personal profile] dialecticdreamer. It also fills the "Small Spaces" square in my 3-1-26 card for the National Crafting Month Bingo fest. This poem has been sponsored by Anthony Barrette. It belongs to the Broken Angels thread of the Polychrome Heroics series.

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Thursday, April 16th, 2026 09:44 pm
Thick, Sticky, Morass
By Dialecticdreamer/Sarah Williams
Part 2 of ?
Word count (story only): 1299
[Morning of Thursday, 9 November of 2017]


:: The first update on Jasper’s condition puts Jules in the middle of an ethical conundrum, even though he has no influence on the situation. That’s another layer of complication. Part of the “Lodestar” arc, set in the Polychrome Heroics universe. ::


Back to part one
On to part three




Loudmouth’s gaze settled heavily on Jules’ shifting expressions. “That is being discussed. Medically, he can be kept unconscious, safely, for a very long time if steps are taken to prevent muscle atrophy and contraction. But… He’s got a right to face charges, and he can’t do that while unconscious.”

Jules shook his head. “What if there isn’t a consensus? What if the lack of consensus goes on for weeks?”
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Thursday, April 16th, 2026 08:00 pm
Graphene just defied a fundamental law of physics

In a major breakthrough, scientists have observed electrons in graphene flowing like a nearly frictionless liquid, defying a core law of physics. This exotic quantum state not only reveals new fundamental behavior but could also unlock powerful future technologies.


Natural laws cannot be broken. You just discover new versions or applications of them.

But yeah, graphene does some pretty amazing stunts.
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Thursday, April 16th, 2026 11:11 pm


primer, paint, varnish all done, I've unjammed the autobailer, and I've been for a little row (Turns out I remember how to row, though I did catch a couple of minor crabs). 

Getting her down the hill and into the water was a breeze. Getting her back up was probably no harder than moving the canoe: the Mirror is heavier, but not as long, and the trolley is a lot better designed than the canoe one. 

I went for a paint colour that is described on the tin as 'cream' but it's a very rich and buttery sort of cream. 


Just need to sort the rigging, and the rudder uphaul. oh yes and find some rope for a painter, and a bailer sponge. Then I get to find out if I've forgotten how to sail...

Boat refurbishment websites are full of people with ridiculously high standards and apparently unlimited time and tools. I keep telling myself: she's a battered old Mirror Dinghy from 1972. It doesn't matter if the varnish isn't perfect, the paint has the odd run visible, the rubbing strake has lost a small chunk at the back of the skeg, or that there are scrapes and stains from her chequered history (as long as they aren't bad enough to be unsound, which I *think* they aren't. And if they are, I'll learn!)

The point is to get the boat to the point where I can go sailing this year, not to somehow erase 50+ years of dings and stains.  

I saw two sets of mirror dinghy sails (2x main and jib) advertised on Facebook marketplace locally, so I bought them. The sail numbers are from boats from 1970, but the sails don't look very used, and the sail numbers are not the original vinyl, so either the numbers have been replaced, or the whole sails are newer - though I think they must be from before 2007, since sails newer than that are a slightly different colour. I thought it would be handy to have spares.

I wondered what happened to the boats they belonged to, but the person who was selling them didn't know: she'd bought them to make garden shades out of, and then decided they were too small. 

We have another foster kitty, Star.  She's been helping with the renovations. The smallest adult cat I've ever seen, I think but she has no difficulty at all jumping up into the boat.  She came from a bad situation and has had some immune system issues, which is why she has that scar on her face. We think it's healing up, but it's not a quick process. 



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Thursday, April 16th, 2026 05:50 pm
It's nearly sunset here. I am eating lunch. Monday sailed past me in a haze of PT and naps. Actually, so has most of this week.

I hate missing Magpie Monday.
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Thursday, April 16th, 2026 02:01 pm
The other day, I made an oopsie that I'm sure plenty of other gardeners have. I'm pretty sure that weed I pulled was actually a lettuce plant. I'm a little frustrated about it, but a little amused with myself at the same time. It's a weird combination. Frankly I'm just happy it's the only one I've managed to kill so far. I did forget to water my tomato and pepper seedlings a few weeks ago and killed each and every one of those, but I managed to get them restarted in time that they should be mature enough to transplant in about a month, and so far haven't lost any. Several of them have good starts on their true leaves, and I need to get them put in bigger pots either today or tomorrow. 

I've learned that creativity and frustration sometimes go hand in hand, and the afghan I'm making my son has been an exercise in both. I've done more frogging than I have crocheting. I'm getting a little pissed off with it, so I'm taking a break from it for a few days. But I will be back. My son is looking forward to it, and frankly, I'm going to finish it out of pure spite. You won't defeat me, cheap acrylic yarn. In the meantime, I'm working on a surprise gift for a friend. I won't post much about it just in case she happens by, but I started it yesterday and so far it's going well. I do have a plan to customize it a bit to fancy it up, but if that doesn't work out, it'll still be nice without it.

Over the last couple days, I wrote a poem for the first time in years. It felt really good. Kind of like I'm getting in touch with the hopeful, idealistic person I used to be. I'm a little shy about posting it here, but maybe eventually. Maybe the person I used to be and miss isn't completely gone, after all.


Thursday, April 16th, 2026 04:49 pm
I finally finished the poetry anthology This is the Honey edited by Kwame Alexander and now have moved onto Poetry Unbound: 50 poems to open your world edited by Pádraig Ó Tuama. This is the first one.

Wonder Woman by Ada Limón

Standing at the swell of the muddy Mississippi
after the Urgent Care doctor had just said, Well,
sometimes shit happens, I fell good and hard
for New Orleans all over again. Pain pills swirling
in the purse along with a spell for later. It’s taken
a while for me to admit, I am in a raging battle
with my body, a spinal column thirty-five degrees
bent, vertigo that comes and goes like a DC Comics
villain nobody can kill. Invisible pain is both
a blessing and a curse. You always look so happy,
said a stranger once as I shifted to my good side
grinning. But that day, alone on the riverbank,
brass blaring from the Steamboat Natchez,
out of the corner of my eye, a girl, maybe half my age,
is dressed, for no apparent reason, as Wonder Woman.
She struts by in all her strength and glory, invincible,
eternal, and when I stand to clap (because who wouldn’t),
she bows and poses like she knew I needed the myth,
—a woman, by a river, indestructible