#Grounded Deep Sleep Podcast

[squinch-depraved]

based on a dream i had where ted finds footage of you and schlatt doin some stuff 😔

chuckle week is just a convenient excuse to be all together i'm sorry i write it so much :(

ted tossed his phone down onto his desk with a heavy sigh, finally giving in and sitting down to begin rifling through the hours of footage from chuckle week. something had come up and a last minute text from schlatt, of all people, saying he was going to have to be the one to edit it pulled him from his hazy afternoon of trying to sleep so that he didn't notice how empty his apartment was now that his best friends had left him there all alone. the quiet had seeped under his skin, which was so desperately missing your soft touch and schlatt's rougher one. he shook off the lingering unease and tried to immerse himself in reliving the memories of his great week as he slipped on his headphones and began editing.

hours crept by as he sat at the desk, leg tapping endlessly in an attempt to get some energy out of his system. he had just finished editing the first episode when he noticed it. everybody went to lunch after filming that one, he remembered because he went out with tucker and emma and was a bit sad the two of you didn't want to come with to the rainforest cafe. but here was footage with audio from that lunch break, about 2 hours captured from one camera and a mic left running. he skimmed through it, letting out a puff of air through his nostrils when he realized it was just a view of the empty booth everyone sits in for the podcast. about a third of the way through, though, his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when schlatt and you stumble into view, tangled together in a mess of limbs holding limbs and warm kisses. schlatt slotted himself into the booth and coaxed you into his lap, immediately resuming the sloppy make out session. he groaned, gripping your hips tightly when you ground yourself down onto his clothed lap.

ted felt many things in those seconds where he discovered the footage. disbelief, at first, faded into feeling disrespected. after all, this podcast was his baby, and the two of you doing what you were about to do on that set while ignoring him for lunch pissed him off greatly. but anger faded to arousal the longer he watched you bite at schlatt's neck, and he smiled when the man swatted you away so he could touch you instead. ted sucked a breath in when he started rubbing circles into your crotch under your skirt. he started undoing his pants when you reared your head back and by the time your pornstar quality moan had echoed through the studio, he had eagerly spit into his hand and was stroking himself slowly. a deep groan tore itself from his lips as he began to buck his hips up into his fist, eyes trained on his monitor watching you kiss schlatt.

when he pulled away, he placed his hand on your cheek and stroked it softly. "we gotta hurry, doll, i don't know how long we have 'til someone gets back," he breathed, just loud enough for ted to hear. his friend's voice stole another moan from his lips as he continued to pump his cock. his eyes screwed shut for a moment, and he thought about the numerous filthy things he would do if you two were there with him before he snapped them back open to see schlatt sliding his thick shaft out of his sweatpants, precum leaking from the tip. you grinned and (not-so) gracefully slid yourself under the table to take him in your mouth, leaving only schlatt in view as erotic noises spilled from his lips. after a second, he focuses his dark, lust filled eyes on the camera and nods down at you, as if acknowledging that someone would be watching this.

a guttural grunt tore from ted's throat as he thrusted upwards recklessly, gripping his long, weeping cock like he had never needed something so bad in his entire life. he rolled his eyes upwards and lost himself for a bit again before focusing back in to find schlatt helping you back up and positioning you over his member before sliding his hands under your skirt and sliding your underwear to the side. you yelped as his thick fingers slid in you easily, and he pumped one, then two in and out for a bit, drawing melodic moans from you before he withdrew them and slipped them directly in his mouth. ted and you made a similar face- he wished he could taste you. he blinked again and you were getting impaled on schlatt's lap, nothing visible under the skirt except when one of you moved too vigorously and it flew up, exposing only flashes of where you interlocked.

ted whined, feeling himself getting close, and furrowed his brows together. he leaned back in his desk chair, almost panting, and continued to stare at you masterfully working your hips, grinding and bouncing so well both schlatt and him were lost in it. the man lucky enough to be feeling you smacked your ass, earning a sharp whimper. "c'mon, toots, getting close," he mumbled. "did so good suckin' me off, doesn't take much from this pretty pussy to do it for me." his hands disappeared under the skirt and ted could only imagine his fingers working deftly, tracing figure eights on your sensitive nub.

you began to ride him more frantically, whorish noises poured from your tongue and dared to expose the two of you to anyone who may have come near. you came first, arched your back in a way that left ted rapidly approaching his high. he bucked and rutted his hips into the air, desperate for any contact from the two people he needed most. a pathetic, gasping mess, he came all over his stomach, and watched through lidded eyes as schlatt finished in you and kissed you before sending you to go clean yourself up while he cleaned up the mess you two made. ordinarily he would never make you take care of yourself, but he didn't know how much time you had, so this was how it had to be. once you were presumably out of earshot, schlatt looked at the camera again and grinned.

"hope you enjoyed, ted," he said, adjusting his sweatpants and walking over to turn the camera off.

ted blinked hazily and couldn't help but smile.

[stuckysbike]

Moonlight Kisses

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Angst, unrequited?feelings. Fluff.

Summary: You’ve fallen in love, but he wants someone else, and it’s you he’s asking for advice!

It was a cold December Friday night when you realised you were in love with Bucky Barnes.

Natasha had ushered you out of your solitude and over to her private apartment on the compound. Steve was already there, along with Sam, Joaquin, Yelana, a few from the medical team and a few mechanics.

The place was decorated for winter, with playful snowmen and fuzzy christmas trees stacked in the corners. Everyone got comfortable on the big couch and music played in the background whilst you snacked on festive foods and sipped seasonal alcoholic drinks.

Bucky had been telling a story, his face lit up and his big hands flying everywhere as he described his mom chasing him with a broom during his teenage years after a stray snowball missed its target and landed on her. Occasionally his eyes met yours and they sparkled with mischief, but you figured he was like that with everyone.

You’d been crushing on him since you arrived in January and he was first to greet you. He seemed fascinated by your job, research and data analyst, but it was ultimately boring to almost everyone but you.

You lunched together sometimes and you swapped books every few weeks. You even got him into podcasts and you were always swapping recommendations.

But tonight he looked happy, relaxed even, and when Natasha dropped her dainty feet into his lap you felt the world skip underneath you, you wanted to put your feet in his lap. You wanted his big hands dwarfing your feet.

He rubbed her toes without thinking, and she snuggled down as the mechanics started describing the prank they’d played on Tony this week, going so far as to rope Pepper in. Bucky was listening intently, laughing along with them but his hands never stopped moving. It was obvious they were intimate with each other from the tiny looks and touched they shared.

You couldn’t understand why your heart suddenly ached, and then it hit you like a train. You were jealous, more than jealous, the revelation of their relationship hurt.

“Wanna stay here tonight?” You heard Natasha murmur to Bucky during a lull in conversation. Yelana was changing the music and Joaquin was setting up tequila shots.

He smiled at her but shook his head. “Nah,” his voice was thick with tiredness.

“You finally made a move on that girl?” She teased wiggling in her spot.

Bucky’s cheeks tinged pink and you dropped your eyes when you realised you were staring. You didn’t want to be caught looking like some dumb kid. You studied your hands but your head was swimming with this sudden realisation.

It was foolish to think that Bucky with his wonderful abilities and handsome looks would be interested in you who spent most of your time at work or alone. Bucky had been to hell and back, he deserved someone gorgeous who could distract him from reality

“Think I’m gonna’ take her out, yeah,” he nodded. You snuck a glance at him in time to catch him looking from you to Natasha.

Oh god, he must have noticed you staring. How embarrassing!

Tears that had no right to form in your eyes were there anyway and you stood suddenly distracting Steve who was kneeling at the coffee table next to you. Sam took the opportunity to defeat him in their thumb war game much to Steve’s annoyance.

“I’m going to head back, I’m just really tired,” you said to the room, avoiding Bucky and trying to look above Natasha’s head. “Thank you for the invitation Natasha.”

There were a few comments asking you to stay but ultimately everyone wished you a good sleep. Your own room was a fifteen minute walk away in a shared block and you pulled your arms around yourself to fight the cold as you stepped outside. You wished you brought more than a hoodie to keep you warm.

You looked up into the sky and focused on the moon and sucked a deep breath of cold air deep into your lungs. It grounded you so you did it again.

“Hey Doll,” Bucky called startling you. You hadn’t noticed him leaving behind you but he was closer than you expected.

“Bucky, hi,” you frowned.

“Thought I’d walk you back,” he said falling into step with you. “And I wanted your advice.”

“Oh?”

“So there’s this girl I like. She’s not like the others, she’s not really - she’s different. And I really want to make a date special for her, you know?” He glanced as you, letting his arm bump yours as you walked.

“I do,” you sighed resigning yourself to your fate. You didn’t want to have this conversation but you didn’t want to not help him either. He was your friend after all and despite your feelings you would be there for him no matter what.

“So I’ve had a few first date ideas, but I’m thinking farmers market then making brunch together? I started this really great podcast and I was thinking we could listen together as we cook then talk about it while we eat? Then after we could go to a museum or something?” Bucky licked his lips and stopped turning to look at you.

You didn’t want him to share a podcast with her. That was your thing with him. You knew you were being unfair, childish even but right now you didn’t care. His deep blue eyes searched your face. He looked so vulnerable in that moment.

“That sounds lovely,” you said. And it did, you wished you were that girl, you wished Bucky wanted to go to all that trouble for you but instead you’d have to sit home alone tomorrow whilst he woo’d someone else. You hoped it would be a long time before you were forced to meet her.

“Yeah?” He asked excitedly. “I really just wanna’ hold her hand, at the market, in the museum, I just crave that feeling you know, like this,” Bucky reached for your hand and laced your fingers together, holding your joined hands up to inspect. “It’s been a long time since I held a girls hand like this.”

“I-I’m sure it has Buck,” you swallowed. His hand dwarfed yours and his heat easily crept onto your skin. His thumb caressed your knuckles and your breath hitched but Bucky didn’t seem to notice.

He resumed walking and you could do nothing but join him, he still had your hand in his. He described his outfit for his date and wondered if you had a cosy chunky sweater.

“I do, it’s so comfortable,” you said softly. You couldn’t hide the disappointment as you slowed in front of the doors. “It’s my favourite colour too.”

“Will you wear it tomorrow?” Bucky tilted his head to the side.

“Why does it matter what I wear?” You couldn’t help but giggle at his odd request. You couldn’t do it though, thinking of him with someone else whilst you wore what he asked you to.

“I want to know that you’re warm tomorrow. You know, on our date?” Bucky pressed his cool left hand on your cheek as he turned to face you. His kiss was soft, just a sweet brush of the lips and then he pulled away. “I’ll see you at nine thirty?”

“Uh huh,” you nodded dumbly. He kissed you again, and you caught the faint taste of whiskey on his lips. He was warm as he pressed into you and you let your hands slide up his chest to his shoulders.

“See you tomorrow baby girl,” he pressed one last kiss to your forehead then opened the building door for you.

You walked inside in a daze, waving goodbye and drifting up the stairs like you weighed nothing.

You couldn’t remember getting changed into your pj’s, all you knew was that you were snuggled under your duvet setting an alarm for your date with Bucky in the morning.

You smiled, and suddenly your legs kicked and you let out a little squeal. You were going out with Bucky Barnes and he kissed you three times.

You feel asleep to the memory of one hot hand and one cold hand cupping your cheeks as he kissed you in the moonlight.

[adviceformefromme]

💖PROTECTING YOURSELF FROM LIFES CURVE BALLS AS YOU GLOW UP - PRE-2025 RE-INVENTION SERIES [WEEK 14] - 💖

So you’re trying to glow-up, change your life? Life, being life naturally start’s throwing those damn curve balls and before you know it you’re back on the floor fighting for dear life to get it together and get back on your feet. During this time, weeks if not months have passed, and so you feel behind, you feel like every time you get it together life pulls the rug from under your feet and you’re right back in square one.… So what’s the solution? If you’re absolutely serious about changing your life before 2025 you need STRONG FOUNDATIONS. Where are your roots currently? What practises do you have in place to help you stay grounded when you get hit with one of life’s inevitable problems? What and who is your support system?  In order to thrive you need need your STRONG FOUNDATIONS in place.  The basics:  Sleep, Eating, Diet, Exercise  As obvious as these seem, you really have to dive deep into each area to make sure you are covered by each subject. Are you sleeping properly? Is your diet nourishing you and supporting you? Are you hydrated? Are you moving your body daily and doing exercise? I say these are the foundations because when life starts trying to take you down, if any of the above are not strong enough you will easily start falling. No daily exercise? The anxiety will build up in your body and have no where to go, depression will host itself within your body and slump you further. The lack of orientation from not having enough sleep will only amplify the moment problems start arising. IBS, gut issues, rashes, disease will prey on your body when you are already lacking a healthy gut and immune system. However, if your diet is on point your gut is thriving, you’re on those pre-and-pro-biotics, you’re hydrated, you’re energised you are not a weak target for disease. You have strong foundations. 

Support system:  God /Spirituality,  Therapist / Mentor / Coach, Friends / Family/ Pets

First and foremost God. The moment this relationship starts to weaken, you start forgetting to pray, or spend time with God in meditation you become an easy target for mental and emotional suffering, things that were not in God’s plan can easily take hold of your life, and thats why following God and walking in faith and his purpose for your life will protect you in all seasons. Having a therapist, mentor, or coach in your corner is how you win. If you don’t have any of these, start seeking a mentor, invest in therapy, seek coaching. This is how you continue to grow and have empowering support as you do, the moment you are in difficulty you have reliable and insightful support on hand to guide you. Finally family and friends and pets offer that loving support needed to survive and thrive in the good and bad times. Toolbox:  Meditation, Affirmations, Healing Books, Youtube / Podcasts, Journalling,  Online courses 

Your toolbox is your handy kit that you strengthen before the storm. You are already meditating daily, you are already in your affirmations, speaking life into yourself each day, so when you get triggered because the guy rejects you or dumbs you, you are not so wounded. You know if it's not him it will be someone else, you are in detached energy, you are on your healing journey, you are already reading the books that keep you grounded in self development and wisdom. You’re journaling daily and taking courses online to strengthen your inner wisdom. You are not an easy target for life's problems and stresses. You are rooted in God, in loving support, in your own self love and care practises...and if you aren't there yet. This is the blueprint. Let this week be one of resilience, of remembering who you are and standing firm on your practises and staying close to your toolbox so you are prepared for what's next. Remember it's not about avoiding the problems, they are part of live, it's learning how to ride the wave and not drown that is the key.

Beautiful sounds by Jhene Aiko to end the week...

[mykelneedssleep]

I had the realization today that I dont think I’ve ever spoken about my son on here and since a lot of you know me for podcast content this needs to be rectified immediately so I present to you my first born son: Nureyev

Yes, as in Peter Nureyev. Hilariously this is the most accurate name I have ever chosen for anything because this little bitch has such Peter Nureyev vibes it’s actually crazy. I present a list of random facts about him that I can think of off the top of my head:

1. Literally the first day I had him one of the first things we found out about this tiny little baby was that if there’s a dead cricket in his tank you bet your ass he’s not eating it. This bougie ass bitch only eats live prey. You physically don’t understand how often I have to buy him food because god forbid it dies before he kill it, he’d actually rather starve than eat a dead bug. I can attest to that because one time there was a cricket shortage in my area because it was so cold that all the crickets were dying in transport and this little bitch actually went days without eating because he wouldn’t eat the dead crickets (I finally got him to eat by pushing them around with a clear plastic spoon to make it look like they were moving- lying to your kids works folks)

2. He makes regular attempts to escape from his tank by climbing up the glass. Despite 4 years of trying it still hasn’t worked once but he’s determined he’s going to do it one of these times

3. My mother who typically lovingly refers to him as Nev (“his name is longer than he is, I’m giving him a nickname” -my mother approximately 10 minutes after his name was chosen, took her 3 more days to come up with Nev) will often refer to him as Pete if he’s doing something bad (see above escape attempt). This is particularly funny in the presence of people who are unaware of this nickname but aware enough to know the names of all the animals in our home because they become very confused

4. “The thief is on the prowl” is a very common phrase in our home, this typically means someone has to feed the boy because he’s stalking around the tank looking for living creatures to torment and finding none

5. He regularly sticks his entire head into his water bowl and just leaves it there for a little bit until I become quite convinced that he’s going to drown and then he will just get up and walk away like he didn’t just give me a heart attack

6. If you’re holding him he will climb all over you and somehow find a place to randomly jump off from (again, heart attack every time). Hearing “Nureyev!” said loudly in a concerned but sort of exasperated way is very common

7. If one of his water bowls is empty he will lay in it to get you to pay attention to the fact that it has no water in it but will then refuse to move when you go to put water in it and will become very upset when you eventually give up and just pour water onto him (the above photo was taken directly after I deep cleaned his tank and before I put the water back in, shockingly he looked quite cute instead of seriously pissed off like usual)

8. He likes to have the high ground (he likes to climb on top of people’s heads and just sit there and watch the world as you walk around and continue what you were previously doing. Luckily he has never attempted to jump off someone’s head before)

9. Very dramatic sleeper. I’m talking will sleep in the weirdest positions but like you do you king, if that’s comfy I endorse it

10. He regularly hides in any available nook and/or cranny in the tank. This is yet another cause of great stress for me when I cannot find him

Bonus fact: This bougie bitch was approximately half of the inspiration behind how I play Lizzie (shoutout O!ASKAP enjoyers, this one’s for you). If you’re wondering the other half is simply my penchant for playing the least helpful character I can possibly get away with

[overandunderland]

Do No Harm.

Mareth x Hamnet Fluff.

Fix It AU, Hamnet and Mareth reconcile their time apart, hamnets return and things left undone. Hamnet is having a hard time reassimilating. Mareth doesn't want to lose him again, and he's quite fond of being in Hazards life. (inspired by the Return to Regalia Podcast Hamareth propaganda episode in which I've been radicalized.)

There's a longer version that leans into a NSFW version of this(in progress) but you know 💅 who's actually checking for Hamnareth out here?

In the heart of the apothecary, nestled deep within the palace's labyrinthine embrace, the air was thick with the scent of exotic spices and the sharp tang of crushed herbs. It was a sanctuary of sorts, a place where the outside world's ceaseless clamor was replaced by the soothing monotony of Hamnet's mortar and pestle. Each motion was precise, a dance of creation as he ground the herbs into a fine paste. For Hamnet, it was perfect. His time in the jungle had afforded him the proper knowledge needed to flourish here. He had to admit he felt thankful for Queen Luxa's appointment. It gave him something to do, some way to help. He noticed it also kept him out of view, his visitors being the occasional nurse or nanny.

"You are good with him," Hamnet said, his voice breaking through the rhythm of his work, carrying a warmth that seemed at odds with the cool, almost clinical atmosphere of the apothecary. The room, despite its embrace of spiced cleanliness, was a stark departure from the dank thickness of the jungle—a world Hamnet's attire stubbornly clung to. His clothes were a riot of colors and patterns that sang of distant lands and untamed wilderness. It was a statement, a declaration of his roots, and a testament to the life he had lived beyond the palace walls, making him stand out against the backdrop of stone and shadow.

Their reunion had been a whirlwind, a collision of past and present brought on by the urgent need for a cure to the plague that had gripped the land. Time, it seemed, had been a luxury they could not afford, swept away by the tide of necessity and duty. But it was during the trial of Solovet, Hamnet's mother, that the walls between them had finally crumbled. A lengthy trip to The Waters and several nights' stay in the hospital seemingly removed a decade of jungle from Hamnet's person. However, it would be impossible to wash away The Garden, to wash away the loss of Frill. That would forever stain.

Now, as Hamnet's gaze settled on Mareth, who carried his son in a piggyback embrace, a semblance of peace seemed to settle over him. Hazard, with his tousled curls obscuring his eyes, slumbered on, oblivious to the weight of history and the burdens of legacy that surrounded them.

"He is fond of you," Hamnet remarked, a simple statement that carried layers of unspoken gratitude and acknowledgment of the bond that had formed between Mareth and his son.

Mareth, pacing the room with a deliberate slowness designed to lull Hazard into deeper sleep, responded with a soft chuckle. "I share in that sentiment. He reminds me quite a bit of you in our youth—how it took us time to get you to open up," he said, his voice a blend of nostalgia and something unidentified. "It seems I find myself chasing that same goal once again."

A shadow of a frown threatened Hamnet's face, the beginnings of a storm that was quickly quelled by a practiced smile. In the past, there was no need for facades, no place for pretense. Mareth knew the depths of Hamnet's heart. At least—what he had allowed. Things were different now, they were men. They had both been soldiers, suffered greatly because of it. Yet here Mareth stood, wounded yes, but his resolve, remained unchanged. It had still drawn Hamnet, like a life's flame

"Adjusting to Regalian life again, it's been... tasking," Hamnet confessed, the words heavy, laden with the weight of unvoiced struggles. As he worked, extracting the essence from the herbs, his actions spoke of a man well-acquainted with the art of transformation, of extracting light from the depths of darkness. "My niece is Queen, my mother stands accused of endangering the Underland—a threat that once loomed over us all. It's a burden I cannot, will not, take lightly."

"I'd argue the burden I carry currently, is heavier." Mareth quipped, attempting to lighten the mood.

He is heavier than he looks, how did you manage in the jungle?"

With a gentle gesture towards a small bed nestled in the corner of the apothecary, designed for those in less immediate need of care, Hamnet wordlessly invited Mareth to ease Hazard down onto its welcoming surface. The boy, even in sleep, seemed to find comfort instinctively, nestling into the bed with a contentedness that spoke volumes of the security he felt in this place, however unfamiliar.

Mareth then turned, approaching the counter where Hamnet continued his meticulous work, his hands never ceasing in their task. It was then he ventured, with a softness in his voice that belied the weight of his words, "This burden, Hamnet— isn't yours to bear alone."

At this, Hamnet's concentration fractured, his brow furrowing as he met Mareth's gaze. A mix of incredulity and pain flashed through his eyes. "Do you truly believe that?" he snapped, the words sharp, laden with years of unspoken fears and uncertainties. "That I hold no fault for everything that's transpired? That you harbor no ill will towards me?"

Mareth's response was a sigh intertwined with a grumble, a sound that tugged at the threads of memory within Hamnet's mind. It was a sound he had heard many times during their sparring sessions in youth, a prelude to concession or admission. The familiarity of it caused Hamnet's breath to catch. He was back, in the arena, pinning Mareth to the ground, exhausted, and embarrassed.

"I did... for a while," Mareth admitted, the words heavy, tinged with a resignation born of time and reflection. "Yet, as the days turned to weeks and your return was postponed, worry was all that brewed within me. Concern for you—your well-being, took precedence over any feelings of betrayal."

Hamnet's tense shoulders dropped, a visible release of the anxiety that had knotted within him at the prospect of Mareth's resentment. His relief was palpable, a silent exhale in the midst of the apothecary's herbal-scented air. For a moment, it seemed as if a chasm that had yawned wide between them was starting to narrow, bridged by Mareth's words of understanding and concern. Yet, Mareth wasn't finished. The weight of his gaze didn't waver as he took a step closer, his voice carrying a depth of emotion that hinted at the years of unspoken truths between them.

"You ask why I saved you in Hesperides? I preserved your life because that's the action you take for those you hold dear. Our bond transcended friendship;You were important to me, Hamnet. Your departure—it wasn't treachery, but it created an emptiness. I would have undertaken anything to convince you to remain."

At Mareth's admission, a pang of regret lanced through Hamnet's heart, a sharp contrast to the soft hum of the apothecary around them. His head bowed, a whisper of an apology escaping his lips, shrouded in a veil of shame. Crossing the space between them, Mareth placed a hand on Hamnet's shoulder, his touch grounding, a silent reassurance of his presence. "I did not mean to upset you," he apologized, the words soft, yet laden with a complexity of emotions that seemed to resonate within the confines of the apothecary.

Lifting his gaze, Hamnet looked up, his eyes tracing the contours of Mareth's face—a landscape marked by the passage of time and the scars of battles fought, both in war and in their youthful escapades. Each mark was a story, a memory of their shared past that spoke of courage, laughter, and the bonds forged in the crucible of adventure. There, in Mareth's features, was the essence of the man he had known and the changes wrought by time, yet the underlying truth remained—this was Mareth, humorous, loyal, and undeniably handsome.

The intensity of Hamnet's gaze brought a warmth to Mareth's neck, a recognition of the depth of their connection. It was a look that stirred memories of days long past, filled with the promise of youth and the unspoken words that lingered between them. That look held a call, one that had echoed in the depths of Mareth's soul, unanswered yet ever-present.

"I couldn't stay... I didn't want to—" Hamnet began, his voice faltering as he grappled with the words, the weight of his decisions.

"Do more harm, I know this," Mareth interjected, his voice a gentle balm to the raw edges of Hamnet's confession. "But you are here now, Hamnet. Your mother is confined to her quarters, your niece is Queen, Bartholomew's warrior is amongst us."

"And you are here." Hamnet added.

""Aye, and well we both know I was better of steering you clear of mischief. I recall you clinging to my every word."

"If they came from your lips." Hamnet admitted, their gaze catching one another's.

"If they had told you to stay—would you?" Asked the solider.

"Every instinct in me is screaming to flee once more, Mareth. I sense the weight of everyone's gaze upon me, and I'm aware of the whispers that fill these halls, but if you required it of me, I would stay."

"I require it," Mareth said, the words escaping him with a fervency that surprised even himself, his voice nearly breaking under the strain of emotions long held at bay. The promptness of his reply, the raw need evident in those three simple words, cut through the tension between them, prompting an unexpected laugh from Hamnet. The sound, muffled yet unmistakably joyful, reverberated through Mareth, awakening a cascade of sensations that he had dared not acknowledge until now.

The laughter, so genuine and unguarded, was a balm to Mareth's soul, a reminder of the man before him—not a figment of his desires, but flesh and blood, real and within reach. His initial impulse was to close the distance between them, to bridge the gap of years and unspoken truths with the simplicity of touch. His hands reached out, driven by a longing that had lain dormant, fingers inches from Hamnet's face before he caught himself, the suddenness of his own actions leaving him exposed, vulnerable.

The tension in the air was palpable, charged with the unspoken and the undeniable. Hamnet's sharp intake of breath was a silent testament to the turmoil that mirrored Mareth's own—a desperate need to belong, to be understood, to be accepted. And yet, in the vulnerability of the moment, Hamnet leaned into the roughness of Mareth's palms, an act of trust, of surrender.

Mareth, overwhelmed by the proximity, the shared warmth, felt tears tracing paths down his cheeks, the emotion of the moment breaking through the dams of his restraint. "Stay, and I will make sure you do no harm. If you, and Hazard will have me—"

The answer came when Hamnet bridged the gap between them, his lips finding Mareth's in a kiss that was both a seal of promises and the kindling of a fire long suppressed. It was deep, intense, a melding of desire and something far more profound that had been forged in the crucible of their shared past and the trials they had faced, both together and apart. In this kiss, Hamnet poured all the longing, all the fears and hopes he had harbored. Mareth's initial shock at the contact melted into an answering fervor, his own pent-up longing and affection bursting forth. He returned the kiss with an intensity that matched, then exceeded, Hamnet's initial desperation. Mareth's hands, initially hesitant, now cradled Hamnet's face with a tenderness that spoke volumes, grounding them both in the reality of the moment.

The kiss deepened, a confluence of years of suppressed emotions, unspoken words, and the raw, unvarnished need that had lingered between them, unacknowledged yet ever-present. Mareth's response was instinctive, a natural counterpart to Hamnet's ardor, his lips moving with a passion that was both a claim and a surrender. It was as if, in this kiss, they were both seeking and offering solace, acknowledging the pain of their past separations even as they reveled in the present reunion. Breaking the kiss, they remained close, foreheads pressed together, breathing each other's air, their breaths mingling in the quiet aftermath. In that moment, filled with the soft sounds of their shared existence.

[officialraylynn]

Love... Is in the air.

Also posted on AO3!!

Commission for @farmernotafarmer of Sable Ward and Danny Olsen (Ghostface) in their AU that was super fun to dabble in :D

Warnings and tags: Macabre Muse; first kiss, obsession, violent thoughts, violent urges, discussions of murder, trust, vulnerability, temptation, dreams and nightmares, the entity, bruises, fluff, wholesome, worship

Summary:

Sable is, apparently, the one urge Danny struggles to deny himself.

It was the perfect evening.

Through the open window, past the curtains wafting from a gentle breeze, the sky bled beautiful and vibrant across the horizon. Night was approaching, swallowing the hues of sunset in its abyssal maw, glistening teeth of stars soon to shine.

As the sunlight faded (soft glow replaced by the harsh white of the streetlights outside) the humidity plaguing Sable's small bedroom faded with it. With it gone, the lazily lounging (for even with the open window it had been too hot and humid for any activity) couple were given reprieve, were finally given the chance to take advantage of their day off.

For Danny, that meant getting messy.

Hauling his sketchbook out and plopping into a well-worn beanbag chair in the corner, his charcoals (current preferred medium) and sketch pencils within arm's reach. He started sketching with nothing specific in mind, trusting that before long something would spark inspiration— especially once Sable was finally ready to begin recording her podcast.

Sable never failed to inspire him, but like this? Headphones nestled among messy hair; pale legs awkwardly criss-crossed with her knees poking out from under the arms of her computer chair, the look of deep concentration on her face highlighted by the artificial glow of her monitor... She was breathtaking.

Mind you, Danny always thought Sable was attractive, there was simply something about her like this. Dressed down in a tank top and sleep shorts; emotions so free on her face, relaxed and open for him to see every flaw and perfect imperfection. Her vulnerability, her faith and trust in him— how could he ever ask for a more graceful, more beautiful sight?

"Good evening fine listeners."

Sable's voice broke Danny out of his starry-eyed staring, and he ducked his head to return his attention back to his sketchbook. He wouldn't want to psyche her out by so blatantly reminding her of her physical audience, after all.

"Tonight, I'll be talking about the mysterious "Love Letter Murderer". Strap yourselves in folks, this one's not your average serial killer- and if you're triggered by stalking, this is your warning to stop listening now."

For her, Danny had tried to resist. Had kept his gaze firmly on the paper in his hands, refused to be swayed... But Sable's voice (the passion, the melodic lilt, how powerful she made her words) was a siren's song his valiant attempts crumbled beneath.

By the time Sable was describing the murders, voice low and hushed for both dramatic effect and respect for the dead, Danny was ensnared. His hands skimmed listlessly over his sketchbook; his eyes transfixed on the way Sable gestured as she spoke, his ears hearing her voice but not taking in her words. She was beautiful, ethereal even. Something not of this world, brought into his life to tempt him— tempt him into what, he wasn't sure, but he had fallen hard.

Fallen into fantasies, his thoughts consumed by her. Thoughts of date nights and cozy mornings in. Of her pale skin, how easily it would bruise, how beautiful it would look blooming purple in the shape of his handprints. Of her voice, lovely and serene— the sounds of her screams (of pleasure, of pain) beneath him (his hands, his knife).

Danny didn't hear his sketchbook clatter to the ground as he stood, abrupt and urgent like a man entranced. Sable (headphones on and engrossed with her podcast) didn't notice his approach, his presence looming behind her or his hands reaching towards her.

"— One of many unanswered questions about these killings, is 'were they crimes of passion?'— huh?"

Danny's fingers pushed against Sable's jaw, tilting her head back so she could see him standing behind her. Confusion flickered across her face, but before she could finish asking "What's up?" Danny leaned in and rendered her silent by melding his mouth against hers.

Sable gasped, but didn't draw away. For those few heartbeats, this blissful eternity, nothing but this precious first kiss existed in the world.

It couldn't last forever, though, and soon Sable was pulling away from his touch and removing her headphones— the soft, fond look on her face was one Danny would cherish.

"What brought this on?" She asked, voice as gentle as her expression.

Danny shrugged and settled his hands on her shoulders, thumbs idly rubbing circles into them. "You're just..." he waffled for words before settling on kissing her forehead. "So damn beautiful."

Sable’s hands rose and settled over his, giving them an affectionate squeeze. “Am I now?” The bemused tone of her voice made Danny kiss her cheek, something very much like love unfurling in his chest.

“You’re spectacular.” Another kiss to her cheek, causing her to laugh oh-so-sweetly. “Breathtaking, inspirational,” his kisses swept over her face and pressed against her jaw, “simply amazing.”

“My my~” Sable laughed and titled her head to give him more room at her throat. “Should I talk about murderers more—” she cut herself off with a strangled sound, flailing slightly as she pulled away from Danny “—I’m still recording!”

Danny laughed and leaned over her shoulder, watching as she fussed with her recording and adjusted her equipment. Like this, flustered and huffy and real, she was less a fantasy and more… A tether to reality. This was what he wanted. Laughter, tender touches, the trust in her eyes when she gazed up at him with his hands so close to her neck.

“—I think if I just re-record from here, it should be fine—”

Content, he rested his head against Sable’s, soaking in her presence, allowing the warmth in his chest to take root. Maybe it wasn’t a fairy tale first kiss, but he was no Prince, and Sable was a witch not a Princess. He may have been charmed, swayed by dark temptation, but just as she had unwittingly bewitched him she had brought him to the light again.

Like this, Danny affectionately by Sable’s side, their perfect evening faded into a domestic night in. When the yawns seemed to never stop, when eyes were more closed than open, the couple retreated to bed. Sleep came for them quickly, but while Sable’s was restful and calm, Danny’s was plagued by murky dreams.

Dreams of a sketchbook filled with haunting and grotesque images, each page a different depiction of him intimately and violently murdering his muse, his beloved. A voice, timeless and ancient, spoke to him in these dreams, commanding him to follow, guiding him to a fog so dark it was a misty abyss.

If it wasn’t for Sable’s voice, faint yet pure and pleading, calling for him, a beacon for him to find his way home to her… Who knows if morning’s light would have shone on him again.

[charmac]

What will be the catalyst that sets Dennis off in mental health day,

1. Something small and insignificant, Dennis has just reached breaking point.

2. Mac related, maybe Mac is dating a guy for real this time and it’s not Dennis catfishing him this time and Dennis can’t deal with it.

Also Mac’s bedroom is used as a set this year. When and why is it used?

Maybe at the end of mental health… Dennis goes to Mac. A kiss? A confession? Sleeping together

In terms of a catalyst as to why he takes a mental health day, we know already, "After a physical reveals Dennis has elevated blood pressure he decides to take a day away from The Gang"

So my best guess is he's at a doctor's office or hospital for some reason, doctor tells him that he has high blood pressure and asks if he has any sources of stress in his life that could be the cause, camera zooms out to the Gang doing something obnoxious right there in the office, or cuts to them screaming/fighting each other in the waiting room, back to *Dennis bitch face* - cut to "Dennis Takes a Mental Health Day" do do do do do do doooo.

Straight up, I do not think this episode will be Mac-related or Macdennis-y at all. This one is for Dennis. Of course Mac is a source of stress in Dennis' life, but I am pretty confident "The Gang" is all grouped here vs. Dennis vs. his mental health.

If you’ve been speculating here since filming I’ve been fully in the camp and am standing my ground on the car garage plot. The story Glenn told on Episode 53, Sweet Dee has a Heart Attack of the Always Sunny Podcast is absolutely playing out with Dennis. They filmed at a parking garage:

The episode summary states "a domino-chain of tech and customer service challenges", which, ala Glenn's story, is what happens to him. I recommend listening to the story in the episode, but I'll clip here where they literally straight up tell us that they're doing an episode on it:

(Obviously they chose to have Ross write this episode, not Charlie, which may speak volumes)

What's interesting is that in Glenn's story he ends up making friends with everyone he interacted with in the situation, he says he had a deep moment of zen going through this. Will that happen with Dennis? Will his interactions restoring his faith in humanity be with strangers? Or people currently in his life?

How will it end? We know he gets his moment at the beach, we know they had a filming crew set up on the water, so he's like, definitely probably getting in the water. Will this be in a fit of rage, smashing the waves like Poseidon? Or will he have his Kendall Roy moment, floating, weightless?

Again, I think this is an episode for Dennis, not for Macdennis. Dennis' mental health is the focus, we now know it's clear he's into men and he has a whole System for them, he's not that repressed, there's something else buried deep and hurt and clawing its way out of him, something that has to be addressed before he can let himself be with Mac (for real, LOL, we have to clarify that now, don't we?). I think if Dennis ends with the Gang, it should be a moment of comfort similar to Charlie's moment on the mountain... (and maybe Mac hands him a tissue)

Also, little bonus from our sibling site:

[bestedoesmeow]

✮ daniel ricciardo

PART 2

CHAPTER NAME : You drew stars around my scars

@peytonmarkey

ZAHRA'S P.O.V

It was around 5 a.m. when I woke up to get something to drink from the refrigerator in the hotel room. The night was full of dreams about Daniel, mostly dreams that were about our past life in Australia. I got a bottle of water from the fridge and opened the balcony door to get some fresh morning air. It was race day, and a quite busy day was ahead of me. I took a deep breath before deciding to get inside to get some sleep before waking up to a busy day. I got into bed after leaving the balcony door open for a breeze to fill up the warm and humid room air. But my eyes were fully open, and my mind was too awake to sleep. The image of Daniel's wide, energetic smile had been resting in the depths of my mind since the afternoon. To feel that comfort after years was definitely the reason that I was wide awake that night. I had never been sure about my feelings about Daniel back then. He was always off limits, maybe always like a brother or a friend, but to imagine him as a boyfriend was too much for me to ask for in those times. And I never thought about my feelings so as not to ruin the friendship we had, and I was also having the time of my life during those times. My brother, his best friend, and I were always together. The nights that Daniel came over for a sleepover were the same nights that we grabbed our coffees after John was asleep and had the most deep talks; his hands were always around my shoulders or on my hair while we were sitting on the grass in our backyard listening to the sounds of crickets. I closed my eyes to got these thoughts of my mind, I was in need of a quality sleep. I got my phone from the drawer in order to open a podcast from my phone, but my eyes widened with the notification from three hours ago.

danielricciardo started following you

It was almost like a relief to know that I wasn't the only one who thought about the other after that interaction. Maybe he felt something different than other times, I thought. Or it was just a friendly follow that was made at 1 a.m. Maybe in order to keep in touch, it should be just like the old days. I didn't want to think on it too much, because I was literally overthinking, and I didn't want this whole situation to be the only thing that I had on my mind. But my actions did not make the situation any easier. As I scrolled through his feed. I saw a post of him from the day that me and my family were back from a trip, and I was extremely sad and binge crying over a boy that I met and couldn't open up about my feelings. It was a classic summer love story. That day, when I was sitting in our backyard, listening to music and trying to read a book without bursting into tears, Daniel appeared at our front door. He was carrying a plate with chocolate chips on it; he was freshly shaved, and his hair was longer than usual. But as I always say, the moment I saw him, my body was already filled with comfort. As he saw me lying on the grass, he made his way towards me instead of using the front door. He had a big, beautiful, white smile on his lips while coming near to me. I got up from the ground, smiling for the first time that afternoon, and immediately wrapped my hands around his torso.

'' Hey, big girl what's the matter? '' He said while trying to hug me and leave the plate on the grass without losing any contact between.

'' I can't talk right now or I'll cry even more.'' I said, while his hands were rubbing my back softly.

'' Oh, okay let's just hug then for a while, maybe we should sit on the swing huh, we can't hug much longer like this.'' He said, before making our ways to the yard swing. His hands wrapped my shoulders again while my crying face was resting on his chest. I don't know how long we stayed like that, hugging, him rubbing my back and playing with my hair but when I was finally feeling better Mom, Dad and Jason were back from the supermarket.

'' Oh, our beautiful boy. How are you ? Wouldn't you stay for dinner?'' My mom said, while my dad was carrying the market bags inside after bringing them out from the baggage.

'' Hi, Mrs. Astor, I came here to bring you the cookies my mama baked, they wanted me to say '' Welcome back.'' And you are already tired so, I'd better go home. Again, welcome back to our neighborhood.

Then he left, after whispering my ear that I should call him if I feel worse. I got back inside when Jason and him started to get involved in a chat about his karting trainings and other things.

Just when I was brought myself to the moment it was already 7 in the morning, and I had no time to sleep anymore. I followed him back and left my phone on the bed before going to restroom to take a shower, and meet the team in an hour.

DANIEL'S P.O.V

I was already in the paddock, listening to music before the race when I got the notification that I was expecting for the whole night.

zahraastor started following you.

I was not sure if she had felt the same things when she saw the notification or did she even scroll through my feed, but I wished to come across today in the paddock again. Maybe I could visit Charles after the race, or Carlos. I was desperate to have another interaction.

It was the race time, and I wished to have a better day with the car today. Maybe Austria and the excitement that had been coming with me since yesterday afternoon could help I thought.

ZAHRA'S P.O.V

When I made it to the paddock with Charles, I was excited and happy but also super tired. But I promised myself to make that day a beautiful one, and I was also excited to see Daniel racing for the first time that year, since the Austria GP was my second GP with Ferrari. It was bright and hot just like the other day, and I was in a summer dress to avoid the sweaty feeling that I could feel by wearing a shirt or t-shirt. While Charles was having breakfast and talking with Binotto, Carlos and I were outside chatting about something I don't even remember now, but I remember us laughing and spreading positive vibes all over the place.

'' Is it Ricciardo's year this year?'' I asked while we were sitting outside and Carlos was scrolling through his phone a few hours before the race. He raised his head from his phone and looked at me under his Ray-bans.

'' Not exactly; he's been having quite a hard time with the car. Why'd you ask?''

''Oh, I just wondered, you know, trying to keep up with the results, nothing special.''

'' Yes, yes, he is a good driver, you know, but this year's been not too good for him. I hope he'll be lucky today on the track.''

'' I hope so too, yes, but the podium is for my Ferrari boys. Wishing you two the best.'' I smiled at him before. He sent me back a smile and rubbed my shoulder before leaving to get ready for the oncoming race.

DANIEL'S P.O.V

Austrian GP was from the luckiest GP's of the season since I managed to get points for the team in ninth place, so my mood was decent, happy and even more excited. Charles was the winner of the GP so after the race when I was done with hydrating myself and talking with Lando and the team, I decided to go and celebrate his win before heading back to our hotels. As I moved to get to his trailer, I could feel my heartbeat growing faster with the thought of coming across Zahra. Just like I wasn't expecting her to be there or I didn't wait to celebrate Charles in his trailer expecting to see her.

I took a deep breath before making my way inside and yelling his name.

'' Mate, you there?'' I waited for his answer before heading inside but a different voice answered me.

''No, he is at meeting now, Who a-''. Zahra appeared in front of me with her flushed red cheeks and tired eyes. Her airpods were on her ears.

'' Daniel, congrulations on your points today, It was so excited for me to watch.'' She said, before sending me a precious smile.

''Yeah, yeah it was a nice one indeed thank you Zahra, I am glad you were able to watch me race.'' I said this time, hoping that I didn't sound so awkward.

'' I came to celebrate his win but I guess I should text him.'' I said biting my upper lip to stop the heat wave that was coming up to my ears again.

''Oh, yes, yes if you say so.'' She spoke this time, breaking the silence.

''I loved your feed, by the way; you have really nice photos.” I said, trying to keep the conversation going with the most nonsense topic that I'd ever come up with.

'' I didn't know you were interested in photography, and I loved your photos too. Maybe you should take some photos of me too?'' She said that this time it was her turn to blush. We were standing in front of the trailer door.

I'd want nothing more than that, I wanted to say. But instead 

'' Yeah, I'd love that too; actually, I was going to ask you if you want to go out tonight, you know, before leaving, not like a date though.”

I then bit my lip again to avoid any awkward sentences that I could come up with.

'' Yes.'' '' I'd love to.'' She said it without even considering it for a second or showing any signs of shyness in her voice. She sounded confident about her answer, unlike me, who wasn't able to form a better sentence.

''Yes? Okay then, uh-huh, we can leave Paddock together if you want?

She nodded her head before smiling at my features and gestures.

'' I have a surprise though; wear a hoodie or bring a jacket.''

"Okay, Ricciardo." I will.  See you tonight?

"Yes, I'll see you tonight."

[theoldlesbianwithcats]

you are so real for that response to nansheofearth's comment. lesbians are stuck licking crumbs off the boots of bihet feminist women or queer/trans identified people.

ive been to polilez/radfem events too, and hearing them talk is as alienating as being a homosexual women in queer spaces. sorry i dont want to listen to women talk about how boring their husbands became, or the 4 kids they had with a man before they "became lesbians". it is so alienating as a lesbian, you feel like you truly are a freak of nature, when even other "lesbians" can talk so casually about sleeping with men, so what's wrong with you that your whole being seizes with disgust and wrongness at the thought. or maybe there really is no one like you in the world.

it sucks that even other lesbians make allowances for radical feminist homophobia. our self esteem is so grounded into the dust that we think we need to put up with this homophobia for the "greater good".

your blog has become the go-to for lesbians haha, i check it regularly even if i don't otherwise check tumblr, so i'm throwing in my few cents into the discussion.

Hi anon!

(Anon is referring to that post.)

Thank youuuu, your last paragraph made me so happy 🥹 I'm glad my blog can be a positive lesbian space! Now I'm thinking I should post more beautiful women and gifs from lesbian movies hehe

I totally understand what you mean, that's pretty much how I felt when I went to that lesbian festival (tbh I knew something was wrong when the woman who handed me a flyer at the entrance had super long glittery stiletto nails, I almost left then and there 🤣)

To summarize the first edition of that lesbian festival last year:

First there was a panel on lesbian representation in the media that was derailed to trans males within ten minutes (and even complained about trans criminals being misgendered!), the second panel about intersectionality of lesbians of color had zero lesbian in it, only bi women and trans males

Then there was a lesbian comedy show with two fakebians talking about their ex-boyfriends and making jokes about lesbians' supposed obsession with astrology + a non-binary bi woman who claimed that her gender identity made all her relationships gay (she called herself a dyke and a faggot)

There was a sex-ed booth held by an influencer who had DYKE (yes, in all caps) in her Twitter bio while talking about her het hookups (and throwing a real tantrum when people told her it didn't make sense), she also made sex ed videos on our national tv channel's website where she said that lesbians have sex with men and that men can be lesbians. She has since removed dyke from her bio.

A lesbian bookstore had a booth too, the original owners retired and the new ones are polilez queers who keep promoting books about lesbianism being a choice... Half of the books at that booth were about trans people.

Needless to say, I wouldn't even inflict that on a lesbian I dislike as a prank!

What you said about "lesbians" talking casually about having had sex with men reminds me of a French podcast I listened to years ago that was about bisexual and "lesbian" women who were with men before realizing they were attracted to women. The first conclusion I had was that I couldn't relate at all and felt very uneasy about it. I didn't even dare write my second conclusion back then but it was basically this:

I couldn't differentiate their stories at all. And deep down, they must know this because fakebians use their experiences with men as a way of relating with bi and het women while being mostly hostile to gold stars and finding us unrelatable!

Anyway, this is really long already haha Question for the gold stars: what would be your dream lesbian event? 💃 (apart from being only for actual lesbians, of course!)

[stainedglassandpigs]

Ruskaina pt 2

.

.

.

.

“Pururuuuurruu”

someone was calling

But my body felt like it had just been thrown into the sun then stomped on for good measure

the last thing I wanted was to have to be social so early in the day,

so in response I simply turned my body, the dem dem Mushi couldn’t bother me if I couldn’t hear it

so now I wasn’t facing the direction of the nose.

Peace please it shoudlnt be so hard to have a quiet moment.

“PURURUUURUUUURRRU”

No, I’m to tired I’m nawt getting up.

I refuse

Covering my ear with another pillow I try to get back to my rem sleep, my dream cable was real interesting before I was rudely awaken something about a boy and a beast but i couldn’t remember the rest anymore.

The ring was still there only now it sounded to be underwater, this I could easily work with so letting my mind ease its way back into sleepy mode was natural.

My breathing was slower and I started to forget why I was even awaken in one first place when it happened directly next to my head this time that little fu(ker had moved.

“PUUUUUUU RRRRRE UUUUURRRRUUUUURRUU”

“FINE” I yell jumping up and taking the phone from Athena’s massively interrupting self.

“HELLO!” I was rubbing my eye buggers away annoyed as hell laying back down in bed stubbornly closing my eyes.

“Isabell that’s no way to greet your wonderful mom”

Well great I jsut yelled at my mother for no reason. Today as alr looking to something special.

Wait .

Mom

Why was mom calling so early

Opening my eyes I looked around trying to gauge what time of day it was.

There was no sunlight coming from the window, just a deep twilight.

“Mom why you up so late, everything okay?”

Getting up from bed I move the phone piece and grab Athena I decided I might as well get a snack while I talk

“Yeah I just was bored and everyone’s asleep, I figured you’re always up so late. I don’t wake you did I pretty ?” I could hear her concern clearly, I missed our daily call today I was so busy with-

With… what did I do today

Strange.

My memory was so foggy.

“No mom you’re fine I was just straightening up a bit” lie.

“Oh okay that’s good, oh btw your monthly don’t die care package should be coming soon, so yk don’t die. “

“Ha thanks for the encouragement mom”

“You’re welcome” I could hear her laughing which brought a smile to my face. It was always nice to talk with mom being away was so lonely I missed my family and our daily calls kept me sane.

“How was your day mom ?” Opening my fridge looking around it, empty.

Didn’t… I…

Wasn’t I supposed to go out today, I thought I did.

Odd

“Your little brother started his first day of daycare today so we took loads of pictures, don’t worry we sent you some in the care package I know how you get about seeing pictures of everyone. Oh the gardens doing lovely that tip you gave about adding crushed bone is making the compost top shelf shit fr. And the Saffron plants have begun to pop above ground which your Stepdad is really excited for soon we’ll be able to send you some, we’ve been working womp womp Also the other- wompawa wa She said to me that- wa womp”

Mom just kept rambling as a searched the kitchen area for something to snack she was basically my podcast at this point.

The kitchen was so bare, I really should’ve gone out today but I was stuck with doing my… doing my ? Doing my what ?

What had I been doing all day

It was so hazy for some reason.

Never mind it I was to focused on my snack now, ig tea would be fine for now.

“And then Miss Jackson threw all the navy out the community garden it’s a shame to see how much they’ve changed from me and your father’s time. But anyways how was your day Isabell you’ve been real quite”

“My bad mom I was making tea my day was actually-“

“BANG CLACK!”

Jumping up I fell-off the couch this time all my sections were on over drive.

It was a dream, which ment I still needed to call mom.

The sun was now pouring into the house and I was actually awake this time and the sound I heard was real.

Getting up I look in the direction of where the sound came from only to find a man standing in my kitchen making ???

Something ?

A mess ???

Both unfortunately for me the person who cleans this shoddy abode

“Your supposed to be recovering unable to move what the hell are you doing up ???”

The man turned to me and smiled

“I got hungry” he said it so matter of factly like it made so much sense.

“But your wound ??!!!?!? It’s gonna tear with all this movement” Rushing over to him, mouth running a mile a minute talking about everything that could go wrong and how we was supposed to be recovering

The kitchen was a mess for sure but that was the least of my worry’s now, this man with a straw hat was about to start bleeding out in my house AGAIN.

It was bad enough the first time my nose still burned with the smell of his blood I was not looking to relive that.

Reaching him quickly I look at the bandages. So far it wasn’t soaked through with his bodily fluids thankfully.

“May I ?” Gesturing to his wound.

“Will you make me something to eat if I say yes”

Rolling my eyes deeply, I didn’t even know his name and I was already catering to the strange man so much.

“Omg yes now can I please check the stitches”

“Okay hehe, since you promised”

“I didn’t promise” I said as I began to reach for the wrap when he stepped away just before I could do anything.

“Hey !”

“PROMISE”

“OMFG FINE FINE I PROMISE NOW STAY STILL”

I tried again and yet again he stepped out the way.

“WHAT NOW” I regret so much.

“Pinky promise me first” his features had the most serious look on them since I met him. Mind you we had almost died and he was laughing through all of it.

Sighing I raise my pinky to him which lite his face up instantly. Eagerly he took hold of mine

“Say it”

“I pinky promise” I tried to let go but he held my pinky firmly.

“Tooooo”

I shoulda just minded my own business yesterday.

“To make you breakfast if you let me see you wound and make sure you okay, good?” I look up at him growing more than slightly annoyed.

“Okay! It’s a promise you can’t break it!!” He let go of my smallest phalange.

Attempting once more I raised my hands to remove the wrap heisting just before glancing up at him to make sure he wouldn’t move another time.

Immediately I was met with his big brown eyes staring at me as he smiled lightly.

I guess he was just as curious as me about the conditions of his wound.

Looking back at my hand I carefully began unwrapping the white cloth.

As it unraveled the white seemed unchanged until the very last two layers that covered the gauze which had turned an ugly red color.

Bracing myself for what I would see I peeled the last of the bandages off.

Looking at the wound immediately one thing came to mind.

“Devil fruit ?” I said looking up at him again.

“I the Gum-Gum fruit! Hey how did you know that !!?”

“Educated guess” I shrugged

Looking back at the wound I examine the wound that remained there after a night of his devil fruit working its magic. There was some redness paired with a dark scab and a few stitches pocking out. A far cry from the deep gash it used to be.

“Stay here for a second okay”

“Sure, what are you going to do tho ?” He said watching me as I moved about the cave.

“Dressing your stitches again because they’ll get dirty if I don’t, I really wanna avoid an infection. Wait.”

I stop mid digging through my medicine bag that was still by the bed because exhaustion over took me before I could put everything up.

Standing to my full height again I looked at him. The only part of his body that was clean was the area that I cleaned.

This mf needed a shower.

“What ?!” He quirked his bushy eyebrows

“When’s the last time you took a shower ?”

“A week ago”

“Go taking a damn shower lord how are you alive still. You need to go clean your ass”

“But you promised!” He crossed his arms and stood planted.

“I am doing exactly that, see” walking over to my back pack I grabbed it and began spreading all that I foraged out onto my table.

“I first need to clean everything I didn’t get to yesterday, well, because of you. Respectfully you changed my plans drastically” As I took every thing out it was like Christmas a bit I thought .

All the commotion from yesterday rattled my brain so much I completed forgot everything I collected.

He was still standing in the kitchen as I unpacked my bag I gave him a questioning look.

“I don’t know where the bathroom is.”

“Righhht” was all I managed out,

I was so ready for my morning calm I didn’t even bother telling him I just grabbed his hand and walked him to the bathroom.

Quickly I turned on the shower, taking out a towel and rag, and dumping it into his hand.

“Do you need some clothes?” Looking him up and down I accessed his attire.

Said atire being dirty blood stained jorts and a straw hat, the t shirt he once had on long discarded

“No need to answer actual, I’ll find you some. Take a shower I’ll leave the clothes right here” I pointed at a storage unit near the door.

“And you’ll be making breakfast right” He was looking straight into my eyes again, direct eye contact really was his thing huh

“Yes yes yes, now go clean yourself. And please be careful I don’t want you to pass out in the shower. You may heal quick but who knows what’s really going on inside there.”

Walking out the bathroom I closed the door and began looking for some clothes for the straw hat man.

Which reminded me I needed to ask him for his name.

Finding some close was easy enough, although I live on the island alone my brothers some times would visit and they always left clothes and crap here.

Setting the close on the storage unit I began tidying up even tho I was still pretty tired doing nothing would only make me over think about yesterday .

And besides the cave really was a mess, blood soaked rags and stuff thrown everywhere while I was in a panic, she desperately needed some tlc

Waking Thena and giving her a treat I request I track while I clean she graciously obliged me. Cleaning for the most part goes by fast only real hassle was cleaning and sanitizing everywhere with blood.

Once I had picked everything up to an alright level I put my medical back next to the just in case my guest indeed did need something else done.

I didn’t know what that man eats so I decided on something relatively simple.

Eggs, potatoes, with some random veggies. I was a little limited since I needed to prep all the new ingredients I got yesterday before I could use any of it. And I was certain he wouldn’t want to wait for food.

Turning the stove on I added some butter to a pan and let it heat up a bit while I chopped some onions and ramps since I used the last of the garlic and the new batch was still uncleaned and processed like I liked.

Throwing those in I went to the spice cabinet and took out all that I thought I would need for the meal, adding a bit of sea salt to begin with to help caramelize the ramps and onion together.

Moving onto the potatoes I thought of what I could do with them.

Would he like hash browns more ? Baked potatoes ? Fries ???? Potato stew on the side ?

Fuck it seasoned chopped potatoes would have to do.

Going to the sack of potatoes I kept in the pantry I took out 4 medium Rosara potatoes a favorite of mine personally.

Not even bothering to peal them I roughly chop em up and call it a day

Adding a ton of seasoning just like my mom taught me I throw them in the pan with the butter and onions.

As I cleaned my area up a bit as everything continued to cook I thought about the fight.

This random boy appearing from the sky laughing going toe to toe with one of the islands most formidable beast without flinching.

For a brief second there was this moment I remembered

When the light shone on him like a hug

And his stretched fists and kicks where coming down on the beast like something akin to hell fire that he…

Almost look sort of…

Like… a god.

A small laugh leaves my lips as I think about it all.

Refocusing on what I was doing I transition now to preparing some lions mane with carrots as the the main veggies, tossing them in some oil then seasoning and finally into the oven.

With the veggies in the oven all that was left were the eggs.

But I didn’t wanna use another pan and the potatoes needed a bit longer so I just but everything away that was not in use and took out some plates and such for us to eat on while I waited for a pan to clear up.

Using a fork I poked the potatoes through.

They still needed a bit more time, but I wanted to start the eggs so everything was done when he came out. Using an oven mitt I grab the veggies out and move em over a tad then dump the potatoes onto the tray and put in all back in to finish off nicely.

Using a bit more butter to coat the pan I add 3 eggs in on low heat mixing them into the pan so they would scramble. The process was a quick moving one because the eggs cooked so fast, I graded a bit of milk and splashed it into the end mixing the whole time. The eggs had basically formed by now so I added salt pepper and garlic to it.

And with that I was pretty much done, using my shoddly made oven mitts I took out the veggies and begin plating the food.

Should I put his plate next to mine ?

In front ?

Far away ?

Looking in the direction of the bathroom I wondered how much longer he would be.

In front, I decided

That way I can see his face when we eat.

For manners and stuff..

Placing all the plates and utensils I go to grab us something to drink.

In the cabinet I look at the tea options, Dandelion, Rose, Oolong, Lemon, Matcha, ginger all these options.

I usually had a cup of matcha in the morning but my brothers always said it tasted like grass cum.

So perhaps some Oolong, my family’s favorite.

Taking it out I eyeball enough for two cups and but a kettle to boil.

Bringing the sugar n cups to the table I just sat n waited.

Either the tea would be done or he would either way all I had to do was wait.

Athena was playing a jazz inspired tune now and focusing on that was what occupied my time as a waited.

Circling my thumbs together trying to focus on the music my thoughts unfortunately begin to drift back to last night.

Exactly what I had been trying to avoid.

I could vividly see it again.

The way he looked was just so haunting his chest barely able to rise and fall skin pale as a cloud on a rainy day.

It was like sun that once lit his body had been sucked out all because he tried to save me.

He was on deaths door because I was too busy digging for truffles to noticed a 5 ton beast rampaging towards me.

It was all my fault

As I knew alr being left alone with my thoughts was indeed taking a turn for the worst

Even tho I knew it helped no one for me to think like this the cogs in my brain still churned to push out every single thought that’s while purpose was to make me feel like a royal fuck up

Closing my eyes I make myself take deep breaths and think 2 positive things I did.

1. I got more us to one cave without dying

2. I made sure he didn’t die

The again he would even-

Before I could finish my thought the bathroom door swung open and the energetic young man can out…

Running

He was running to the table

“ thankyoufortheclothes!!! FOOD FOOD FOOD “

And just like that the room and my mind was quickly filled with his bright presence.

I smiled

As I watched him almost collide with the chair I thought to myself something I had been pushing back since I began my research on the island by myself.

Maybe I did want company.

.

.

.

.

Authors rambling time 🤩

I honestly couldn’t even tell you why I’m writing this story but it’s definitely fun to try and characterize Luffy. Using this as a learning experience bc I do wanna get into writing more. I know only 2 ppl and mice see this but I would love to hear the feedback for those who do !

[guy-lindley]

It had been days since Guy retrieved the footage of his wife’s assault. Days or weeks, rather. He couldn’t tell anymore. The hours, the minutes, the seconds – they all bled together. 

The officers of the Boston P.D. had refused to give a copy of the footage to him, but in his line of work he always had a contact who knew someone, who knew someone else, who owed them a favor. Before long, there was an email in his inbox with the footage attached and he was spending hours each night pouring over the details. 

The footage was jarring. The first time he’d watched it alone, he’d slammed the laptop shut so fiercely he’d shattered the screen and had to make up a story about how he’d destroyed it to get Rian to give hers up for him to use. “I tripped over the fucking cat and I have an assignment due.” He’d lied as she’d whined about missing an episode of couples finding love on an island somewhere. In the end she’d given it up, after he’d promised to replace it with the newest model with every accessory known to man.

At first, his focus was solely on her. He replayed each part of the attack over a dozen times each. The first shove to the ground. Replay. The kick to the ribs. Replay. Blow to the stomach. Replay. The fist to her face. Replay. Over and over and over again. Guy swore he could feel the crunch of bones and the splattering of blood with each blow and in some ways he deserved to feel it, even if it was just his imagination. It was retribution. His punishment for not being home – for not being there for her when she needed him. Because she wouldn’t have been there if it hadn’t been for him.

When Guy finally allowed himself to focus on the attacker, to zoom in on the footage, the recognition was almost instantaneous. Rian’s description had been too vague for him. Tall, white. Dark hair. Shaved. Early to mid thirties. Standard build, but toned. Strong. Details were missed, ones she never would have been able to focus on at that moment. Guy couldn’t blame her. No amount of true crime podcasts or documentaries could have prepared her for it. But he could see them now. 

A deep scar lined the side of his head. A tattoo was visibly peeking through the collar around his neck. The attacker had looked directly at the camera and Guy could see the way the left side of his face subtly drooped, the way the socket of his eye depressed inward as if it'd suffered a (not so) recent blow and it clicked because Guy had been the one to deliver it. 

There’d always been a vault in his head. One housing the details of every criminal he’d ever located and put back behind bars. He could always sift through the information easily on a whim. Paper files or digital records were unnecessary because he never forgot anything and this time was no different. It all came together. 

There were dozens of arrests. A rap sheet a mile long filled with varying degrees of offense and the system was so fucked that he always got out on bail. Guy had to find him each and every time. It was a continuous game of cat and mouse and their last round had ended with Guy using excessive force and it made sense. It explained why the attacker hadn’t bothered to hide his face, why nothing of Rian’s had been taken. He was far from home, but he’d found them. Found her. Targeted her and he’d looked directly toward the camera as if to taunt Guy.

And Guy had to admit it was his fault.

The sun had just begun to rise when he emerged from his office. With the laptop in hand, he walked into their bedroom. Rian was sleeping soundly and he could see the steady rise and fall of her chest. Guy knelt beside the bed. He’d set the laptop atop the mattress and he grabbed her hand between both his palms. 

She’d been begging for days for him to let her see it, to let her watch the footage and now he couldn’t deny her.

“Rian,” Guy uttered softly to wake her. He watched as her eyes slowly fluttered open and he pelt the pang of guilt strike in his chest when she smiled at him and he fought hard not to outwardly wince. “It’s my fault,” He began, and his voice was thick with exhaustion and devastation over the news he had to deliver. He could see the worry and confusion morph along her face but he forced himself to continue. “I’ll explain everything after you see the footage, because you deserve to see it, but I did this. It’s my fault.”

[marydswitchduet]

Chastity Log Day 11 (7/24)

First off, fuck notes for not being able to transfer my entry into tumblr so I’m writing this all fucking again 😤 alright I’m done now

What Did We Do?

Similar to yesterday, mommy and I didn’t get to do much cuz we worked opposite shifts. But, as I slept a little later, she woke me up with lower region attention. Just a tease as mommy does.

She was cheeky, quite literally ;), teasing me with a blue lacy thong on her nice booty. Each step had her cheeks swaying just right. Not what you want when your mommy has to leave for work.

Before I tried to take a nap, mommy texted me that I should put on a diaper and put something on to listen to and make humpies on my stuffy. I was horny after that and wasn’t able to sleep

Later I was able to, and mommy woke me up again with some attention ;)

But only a tease again, I was taken aback though when mommy lifted my leg off the ground and pinned me and kissed me. That made me very small and it was so unexpected. Kinda nice, even tho scary.

Before I left for work, mommy told me how apparently one of the guys she works with classified her as his “ideal woman” based on a lot of factors.

Afterward, mommy made a joke about cuckolding and how if we wanna now we have an option. I’ll admit the idea put some images in my mind. The idea of being forced to the side as mommy has her way with whomever, since mommy knows best. I have to just sit there a horny little mess and hump one of my stuffies and make cummies in my diapee (assuming mommy allows me to cum at all)

In dark recesses, I imagine mommy and her new friend fucking and he’ll make stickies in her kitty. And as a treat, mommy will let me clean up what’s left and lick her kitty clean for her.

Depending if mommy was satisfied, I may need to suck her friends big thing so she can have some more fun. Idk if I could ever really get behind this, but I clearly find the image of it intense and sexy enough to imagine (and apparently get hard over).

But I suppose once you go deep enough down the rabbit hole, a lot of dark things enter the mind. I guess I’m okay with that ;)

She kept teasing me til I left for work, making me really wish I could stay home. Rather than stay home, mommy sent me some dirty naughty pictures 😳

Mommy’s hot kitty. 😋 all I’d want is mommy’s permission to dive in and have a taste. Wow, hello headspace…and stopping to get control of my horniness

Mommy put some dark and hot images into my mind too:

I just want to suck it then put u in a diaper and make u build your stamina w playing your stuffy tehehe

Pathetic? Maybe. Sexy? To me? 🥵

She also talked about taking her underwear off and putting it in my mouth to keep me quiet. I’d be more worried the smell and taste would drive me even more wild, maybe that’s what mommy wants.

Mommy talked about looking into inducing lactation for her, and getting me a stuffy of my own. The one I have isn’t technically mine, but mommy lets me borrow him.

She says I need my own to dirty.

How did it feel?

Embarrassing in the most erotic way. But still, makes me feel all tingly and sexy ;)

How are you feeling? Ball-Wise?

Sore from mommy’s antics; but a good sore

What I want more/less of in current dynamic?

More: menial tasks, even if it’s just stuff I’m already doing or things I have to do to sleep or masturbate

audiobooks, hypno, podcasts. Sometimes there’s things I discover turn me on I never expected, like ABDL. I like to listen and hear from other people and their experiences and it lets me know what types of things are of interest to me beyond what may just be able to be read. And the audio can sometimes put me in a space.

Things I’m enjoying

ALL OF IT

Low key enjoying that I’ve been in chastity so long I’m peeing semen once in a while

[kudosmyhero]

Robin III: Cry of the Huntress #3: Dosvedanya, Baby

Read Date: July 04, 2023 Cover Date: February 1993 ● Writer: Chuck Dixon ● Penciler: Tom Lyle ● Inker: Robert Allen Smith ● Colorist: Adrienne Roy ● Letterer: Timothy Harkins ● Editor: Denny O’Neil ●

**HERE BE SPOILERS: Skip ahead to the fan art/podcast to avoid spoilers

Reactions As I Read: ● in case we ever forget Robin is in his early-mid teens 😂 hell, though, I’d act exactly the same way even now if I was as sleep-deprived as he is

● 👏👏👏👏

Synopsis: After being confronted by his school counsellor, Ms. Hollingsworth, about his bruises and injuries, Tim Drake is forced to come up with an excuse so that her suspicions aren't focused on his mentor and friend Bruce Wayne. Under pressure, he lies and claims it was a senior classman who has beaten him up, and agrees to go through a student roster to identify his bully the next morning.

Feeling the weight of his secret identity and the dishonesty it requires on his shoulders, Tim confides in the mute Harold Allnut deep in the Batcave. When he returns home to Drake Manor, his father questions him about the apparent fight that gave Tim his bruises, and Tim is forced to lie again.

Additionally, his father has concerns about the amount of time Tim spends at Wayne Manor, feeling some jealousy at the fact that in his current state, he can't be there for his son as much. Tim tries to explain that there's nothing to worry about, but confronted with his issues about his secret identity again, he simply storms off. He worries that he can't keep his secret much longer.

Elsewhere, King Snake trains against the Ghost Dragons. After he defeats them all, he receives a report from Lynx indicating that their territory is being encroached upon by a new Russian gang employing the dangerous KGBeast. King Snake vows to take the KGBeast down himself, retaining his title as 'most dangerous assassin.' That night, Robin arrives late to his meeting with Huntress, who reveals that the Russians belong to an organization called the Hammer, whose scare tactics are keeping information about them scarce. Their discussion is interrupted by a man who reveals that he and the other Russians of Little Odessa had fled Russia to escape the Hammer. His disgust for the organization leads him to help the vigilantes, and give up the Hammer's location.

Robin and Huntress take the aggressive approach, and Tim works out some of his frustrations by knocking heads. They work their way inside a casino, and are forced to fight nearly all of its patrons before Tim notices one of the same hoods who kidnapped Ariana Dzerchenko after her father was murdered. Robin gives chase, and manages to knock the thug to the ground. When he asks about Ariana, though, he is told that she was killed. His anger rises, and Huntress arrives just in time to prevent him from crossing a line. Frustrated, Robin simply runs away.

Elsewhere, the commissar of the Hammer orders that one of his men go to Amsterdam for a special project, while Lynx questions the thug that Robin took down moments before. King Snake is intrigued by the audacity of the Hammer's plans, and takes it upon himself to commandeer the plan for his own ends, leaving Lynx to kill the snitch as she pleases.

The next morning, Tim wakes up late, and is horrified to discover that he has a huge black eye that he'll have to explain to Ms. Hollingsworth once he gets to school.

(https://batman.fandom.com/wiki/Robin_III_Issue_3)

Fan Art: Huntress 04 by Seabra

Accompanying Podcast: ● Everyone Loves the Drake - episode 25

[libraryspectre]

Part of the reason I'm so appreciative of podcasts that discuss the paranormal but are also grounded in reality is because I was really into a podcast for awhile that discussed ghosty stuff until they started going more and more into the deep end of just. Uncritically believing absolutely everything and scaring themselves silly over nothing. One of the most irksome things was that they were TERRIFIED of sleep paralysis. And like yeah that's a scary thing to experience. But they seemed to think that like..... it was a genuine paranormal encounter and not a weird quirk of the brain we totally scientifically understand (as well as we understand anything in the brain). Like they literally never brought up the accepted scientific explanation.

It didn't take long before I'd had enough, but I checked back in after a year or so of leaving them alone to see if things had improved and the very first episode had a write-in from a listener that was like "I think my neighbor is a witch and is cursing me with black magic" and they were like "yeah sounds like it!" GIRLS YOU ARE GOING TO GET SOMEONE KILLED.

[newstfionline]

Wednesday, December 27, 2023

In battleground Arizona, Robert F. Kennedy Jr. draws Biden and Trump voters (AP) Some voted for Donald Trump, others for Joe Biden. A few had never wanted anything to do with politics before they heard Robert F. Kennedy Jr. on a podcast or YouTube video. Lined up outside a Phoenix wedding hall tucked between a freeway, a railroad track and a U-Haul rental center, the hundreds of people who turned out Wednesday to hear Kennedy speak shared little in common ideologically. What united them was a deep-seated distrust of the media, of corporations and especially of the government and a belief that Kennedy is the only person in politics willing to tell them the truth. Voters are not enthusiastic about a Biden-Trump rematch, and alternatives like Kennedy or the No Labels third-party movement, which would typically be longshots, see an opening. Kennedy’s appearance in a 2024 battleground state highlights how he could influence the election in ways that are tough to predict. Allies of both Trump and Biden have expressed concerns that Kennedy’s independent bid could pull votes from their candidate in next year’s expected general election rematch.

Migrant caravan in southern Mexico marks Christmas Day by trudging onward (AP) Christmas Day meant the same as any other day for thousands of migrants walking through southern Mexico: more trudging under a hot sun. There were no presents, and Christmas Eve dinner was a sandwich, a bottle of water and a banana handed out by the Catholic church to some of the migrants in the town of Álvaro Obregón, in the southern state of Chiapas, which borders Guatemala. Migrants spent Christmas night sleeping on a scrap of cardboard or plastic stretched out under an awning or tent, or the bare ground. At around 6,000 people, the migrant caravan that set out Sunday was the largest one since June 2022, when a similarly sized group departed Tapachula.

Police in Peru dress up as Santa for festive drugs bust (The Independent) Police in Peru have been spotted carrying out a drugs raid while dressed as Santa Claus. The undercover agents caught two men allegedly selling cocaine and cannabis in a house in Huaral, just north of Lima. ‘Santa’ could be seen using a sledgehammer to break down the door of the house, before removing his beard to cuff one of the suspects.

Plane passengers held pending human trafficking inquiry leave France for India (Reuters) A plane carrying 276 Indian passengers took off on Monday for Mumbai, the French interior ministry’s local office said, after it was grounded for four days pending investigation into possible human trafficking. The flight, carried out by Romanian charter company Legend Airlines, had departed from Dubai and landed at the small Vatry airport on Thursday for a technical stopover when police intervened. Bound for Nicaragua, the flight arrived in France with 303 Indian passengers onboard. After being interrogated by police, two people investigated for human trafficking have been placed under “assisted witness” status while the investigation continues, according to the prosecutor’s office. Another 25 people, including five minors, have stayed in France where they wish to seek asylum, authorities said.

Russian naval ship in Crimea damaged in airstrike by Ukrainian forces, Russian Defense Ministry says (AP) A Russian naval ship in Crimea was damaged in an airstrike by Ukrainian forces, Russia’s Defense Ministry said Tuesday. The landing ship Novocherkassk was hit at a base in the city of Feodosia by plane-launched guided missiles, the ministry said, adding that two Ukrainian fighter jets were destroyed by anti-aircraft fire during the attack. Over the past several months, Ukrainian forces have conducted attacks around Crimea, mostly with sea drones.

China expects searing heat, more weather extremes in 2024 (Reuters) China grappling with one of its coldest Decembers on record will likely have to brace for another round of scorching heat and an increase in extreme weather next year due to the El Nino weather phenomenon, a senior climate expert said. This year has seen China lurch from some of its hottest temperatures logged since 1850 to a harsh cold snap that froze many parts of the country for close to a fortnight earlier this month. This past summer saw Beijing bake in record heat while a remote township in the country’s arid northwest logged a day of 52 degrees Celsius (126 Fahrenheit) the hottest on record for China. Typhoons also brought record-breaking rainfall in China’s north, causing widespread flooding.

Israel’s Economy Expected to Shrink 2% as War Sidelines Workers (NYT) The Israeli economy is expected to shrink by 2 percent this quarter, according to a leading research center, with hundreds of thousands of workers displaced by the war with Hamas or called up as reservists. About 20 percent of the Israeli work force was missing from the labor market in October, up from 3 percent before the fighting began, according to a report from the Taub Center for Social Policy Studies, a nonpartisan think tank in Israel. The spike in unemployment reflects the fact that about 900,000 people were called up to fight, stayed home to take care of children because schools had closed, evacuated from towns near the borders with Lebanon and Gaza or couldn’t work because of physical damage to their industries.

Lose a limb or risk death? Gaza’s wounded face hard choices (AP) The doctors gave Shaimaa Nabahin an impossible choice: lose your left leg or risk death. The 22-year-old had been hospitalized in Gaza for around a week, after her ankle was partially severed in an Israeli airstrike, when doctors told her she was suffering from blood poisoning. Nabahin chose to maximize her chances of survival, and agreed to have her leg amputated 15 centimeters (6 inches) below the knee. The decision upended life for the ambitious university student, as it has for untold others among the more than 54,500 war-wounded who faced similar gut-wrenching choices. Experts believe that in some cases, limbs could have been saved with proper treatment. But after weeks of Israel’s blistering air and ground offensive, only nine out of Gaza’s 36 hospitals are still operational. They are greatly overcrowded, offer limited treatment and lack basic equipment to perform surgeries. Many wounded are unable to reach the remaining hospitals, pinned down by Israeli bombardment and ground combat.

Saudis Keep Low Profile in Red Sea Conflict (NYT) After rebels took over the capital of Yemen in 2014, a 30-year-old Saudi prince named Mohammed bin Salman spearheaded a military intervention to rout them. With American assistance and weapons, Saudi pilots embarked on a bombing campaign called Operation Decisive Storm inside Yemen, the mountainous nation on their southern border. Officials expected to swiftly defeat the rebels, a ragtag tribal militia known as the Houthis. Instead, the prince’s forces spent years mired in a conflict that splintered into fighting between multiple armed groups, drained billions of dollars from Saudi Arabia’s coffers and helped plunge Yemen into one of the world’s worst humanitarian crises. Hundreds of thousands of people died from violence, hunger and unchecked disease. Saudi Arabia and its main partner, the United Arab Emirates, eventually scaled back their military involvement, and Saudi officials entered peace talks with the Houthis, who secured control of northern Yemen. Now, the war in Gaza has thrust the Houthis whose ideology is driven by hostility toward the United States and Israel and support for the Palestinian cause into an unlikely global spotlight. Saudi Arabia, however, would rather watch these latest developments from the sidelines, with the prospect of peace on its southern border a more appealing goal than joining an effort to stop attacks that the Houthis say are directed at Israel a state the kingdom does not officially recognize and which is widely reviled by its people.

Attack in Nigeria (Foreign Policy) At least 160 people were killed and 300 people wounded in attacks on villages in central Nigeria, local officials said Monday. Monday Kassah, head of the local government in Bokkos, Plateau State, told the AFP that armed groups locally known as bandits launched attacks on at least 20 communities. Plateau State Gov. Caleb Mutfwang condemned the violence as “barbaric, brutal, and unjustified,” and governor’s office spokesperson Gyang Bere vowed to take proactive measures to protect civilians. However, Amnesty International criticized the government following the attacks, writing on X that “the Nigerian authorities have been failing to end frequent deadly attacks on rural communities of Plateau State.”

A Thriving Border Town Undercuts South Africa’s Anti-Immigrant Mood (NYT) By 7 a.m., lines of customers snake down the block outside stores on the main commercial strip in Musina, a bustling South African border town where thousands of people arrive daily from neighboring Zimbabwe to buy food, clothes and other necessities that are hard to get back home. A few miles away, at the border, pickup trucks bearing the seal of South Africa’s newly formed border patrol inspect the razor-wire fence, looking to arrest people who cross illegally braving bandits, crocodiles and the rushing Limpopo River. The border force represents an effort by the government, months ahead of crucial national elections, to respond to popular demand and clamp down on migrants sneaking into the country. Musina, surrounded by farms and a copper mine, is where the government’s muscular immigration policy collides with a tricky reality that many South Africans are loath to concede: that even people who cross the border illegally may be good for the country. Like politicians in the United States, Europe and elsewhere who score points by promising hardened borders and mass deportation, their South African counterparts are pitching a sweeping crackdown on foreigners to appeal to voters, playing on similar, often-unfounded fears that immigrants fuel crime and steal jobs.

Pope Francis blasts the weapons industry as he makes a Christmas appeal for peace in the world (AP) Pope Francis on Monday blasted the weapons industry and its “instruments of death” that fuel wars as he made a Christmas Day appeal for peace in the world and in particular between Israel and the Palestinians. Speaking from the loggia of St. Peter’s Basilica to the throngs of people below, Francis said he grieved the “abominable attack” of Hamas against southern Israel on Oct. 7 and called for the release of hostages. And he begged for an end to Israel’s military campaign in Gaza and the “appalling harvest of innocent civilians” as he called for humanitarian aid to reach those in need. Francis devoted his Christmas Day blessing to a call for peace in the world, noting that the biblical story of the birth of Christ in Bethlehem sent a message of peace. But he said that Bethlehem “is a place of sorrow and silence” this year. He took particular aim at the weapons industry, which he said was fueling the conflicts around the globe with scarcely anyone paying attention. “It should be talked about and written about, so as to bring to light the interests and the profits that move the puppet strings of war,” he said. “And how can we even speak of peace, when arms production, sales and trade are on the rise?” Francis has frequently blasted the weapons industry as “merchants of death” and has said that wars today, in Ukraine, in particular, are being used to try out new weapons or use up old stockpiles.

[histrionic-dragon]

I had a dream last night that I was writing Tumblr posts in carpet. You know how deep, freshly-vacuumed carpet shows marks? That’s how Tumblr worked in this dream, apparently; I could see the posts elsewhere, I think, but to reply I had to write in carpet, lying on the ground.  My finger got all tired and rug-burned-y, but I was dedicated.

Someone had written a one-line post about how people in stories are more educated than you realize--something about “Aragorn has at least the equivalent of a PhD”--and I wrote a long, impassioned agreement about it, nearly running out of rug space.

One key point, which I agree with even awake, is that he traveled extensively with Gandalf, which is an education in itself.  Another was that he had to be a high achiever to impress his future father-in-law, because Elrond has very high standards. (Again, I more or less agree with this awake.) I also mentioned him spending a long time in Lothlorien and learning things there, which I don’t think is accurate--perhaps sleep!me mixed it up with his being raised in Rivendell.

Most of this probably is a remix of part of Feather’s delightful discussion of Aragorn and Arwen, I believe from this episode of her podcast.  https://www.patreon.com/posts/feather-episode-63606772