#at my limit with that. but i just need like. a several months long training on how to be An Actual Human Being before they just

[carsickcrow]

the future is really freaking me out i don’t know how i’m supposed to be in college in a year that’s so freaking scary. but! thinking about the concept of riding the bus or other form of public transportation. 👍 i can’t drive nor have i made any effort to learn how to and i am turning 18 in. 4 months and 10 days. so. y’know. i gotta love walking and buses and the like. and i do i think (i can listen to my music :). )

[grison-in-space]

you know what else fucks me up about the US election? one of the things that has left me reeling in bewilderment and grief this month?

I'm a scientist, y'all.

That means that I am, like most American research scientists, a federal contractor. (Possibly employee. It's confusing, and it fucks with my taxes being a postdoctoral researcher.) I get paid because someone, in the long run ideally me, makes a really, really detailed pitch to one of several federal grant agencies that the nation would really be missing out if I couldn't follow up on these thoughts and find concrete evidence about whether or not I'm right.

Currently, my personal salary is dependent on a whole department of scientists convincing one of the largest and most powerful granting agencies that they have a program that is really good at training scientists that can think deeply about the priorities of the agency. Those priorities are defined by the guy who runs the agency, and he gets to hire whatever qualified people he wants. That guy? The Presidential Administration picks that one. That's how federal agencies get staffed: the President's administration nominates them.

All of the heads of these agencies are personally nominated by the president and their administration. They are people of enormous power whose job is to administer million-dollar grants to the scientists competing urgently for limited funds. A million dollars often doesn't go farther than a couple of years when it's intended to pay for absolutely everything to do with a particular pitch, including salaries of your trainees, all materials, travel expenses, promoting the work among other researchers, all of it—so most smart American researchers are working fervently on grants all the time.

The next director of the NIH will be a Trump appointee, if he notices and thinks to appoint one. NSF, too; that's the group that funds your ecology and your astroscience and your experimental mathematics and physics and chemistry, the stuff that doesn't have industry funding and industry priorities. USDA. DOE, that's who does a lot of the climate change mitigation and renewable energy source research, they'll just be lucky if they can do anything again because Trump nigh gutted them last time.

Right now, I am working on the very tail end of a grant's funding and I am scurrying to make sure I stay employed. So I'm thinking very closely about federal agency priorities, okay? And I'm thinking that the funding climate for science is going to get a lot fucking leaner. I'm seeing what the American people think of scientists, and about whether my job is worth doing. It's been a lean twelve years in this gig, okay? Every time the federal government gets fucked up, that impacts my job, it means that I have to hustle even harder to get grants in that let me support myself—and, if I have any trainees, their budding careers as well!—to patch over the lean times as much as we can.

So I've been reeling this week thinking about how funding agency priorities are going to change. I work on sex differences in motivation, so let me tell you, the politics reading this one for my next pitch are going to be fun. I'm working on a submission for an explicitly DEI-oriented five year grant with a cycle ending in February, so that's going to be an exercise in hoping that the agency employees at the middle levels (the ones that know how to get things done which can't be replaced immediately with yes men) can buffer the decisions of those big bosses long enough to let that program continue to exist a little while longer.

Ah, Christ, he promised Health & Human Services (which houses the NIH) to RFK, didn't he? We'll see how that pans out.

I keep seeing people calling for more governmental shutdowns on the left now, and it makes me want to scream. The government being gridlocked means the funding that researchers like me need doesn't come, okay? When the DOE can't say fucking "climate change," when the USDA hemorrhages its workers when the agency is dragged halfway across the country, when I watch a major Texan House rep stake his career on trying to destroy the NSF, I think: this is what you people think of us. I think: how little scientists are valued as public workers. Why am I working this hard again?

This is why I described voting as harm reduction. Even if two candidates are "the same" on one thing you care about, they probably aren't the same level of bad on everything. Your task is to figure out the best person to do the job. It's not about a fucking tribalist horse race. A vote is your opinion on a job interview, you fucks. We have to work with this person.

Anyway, I'm probably going to go back to shaking quietly in despair for a little longer and then pick myself up and hit the grind again. If I'm fast, I might still get the grant in this miserable climate if I run, and I might get to actually keep on what I'm trying to do, which is bring research on sex differences, neurodivergence and energy balance as informed by non-binary gender perspectives and disability theory to neuroscience.

Fuck.

[chaggie4ever]

Ok I need to get this off my chest: people need to stop hating on my girl for her final performance against Lute. Vaggie has been out of practice for 3.5 YEARS (42 months), during which she lost her depth perception and wings and hid her identity, which definitely limited her ability to train (not even accounting for the psychological torment and phantom pains). Meanwhile Lute has been living her best life in heaven, likely training every day to keep her position and fully intact.

She has one month to prepare and learn some basic self defense. Now mind you, training montages are hilarious because after the first week if you’re doing it right you probably can barely move out of soreness XD (the ONLY accurate portrayal I’ve seen was on Galavant, which everyone should watch - it’s a medieval musical with a similar tone to HH). I’ll cover more on her and Carmilla separately.

Then Lute proceeds to watch the entire final battle while Vaggie is busy killing at least four angels by my count. When they fly up to Adam and Lute, she immediately sucker stabs Dazzle, dropping them hundreds of feet and disarming Vaggie in the process.

Despite all of this, Vaggie is able to stop a full force sword charge directly at her eye bare handed. She deflects several more vicious blows, using tools in her environment to help (shard of glass, radio). Yes she is losing. She is unarmed and see above… also unused to fighting with long hair even pulled up XD (as an aside, I absolutely LOVE how Carmilla pulls her hair down the moment Vaggie complains when training lol).

She gets a few more face cuts while we watch Charlie stab Adam, and ends up on the ground reaching for her weapon, which Lute uses to stab her hand before stupidly leaving it while gloating. Yes, Lute could (and should) have ended her here. I have a few separate theories on why that did not happen (later post). But regardless of the reasoning, Lute’s hubris left Vaggie alive enough to goad her second wind by mentioning Charlie. And Vaggie was SMARTER (and ultimately more spirited).

Now the tables have turned but Vaggie spared Lute, more out of spite than kindness but ultimately because of Charlie. Lute only has her left arm pinned; she should have stopped the spear but basically asked for death. This is also deserving of it’s own analysis but I think all angels hate themselves :(

Vaggie leaves and when she no longer has her undivided attention, Lute is irate enough to rip off her arm and pin her. Vaggie isn’t fighting at this point, she’s trying to get to Charlie but was sucker punched/tackled. Pretty understandable imho… interesting theories that Lute may have ironically saved Vaggie’s life here. I love her but she’s not stronger than Adam :( I’ll keep these Yuri headcannons to myself for now XD

Ironically, I think this may end very badly for Vaggie and Chaggie (if Lute kills anyone I will kill everyone and then myself), especially after Adam’s death. We haven’t even seen Vaggie cry but Lute now has. The same girl who just pulled her own arm off in sheer rage (seriously what’s up with her brute strength XD).

But ultimately, while I don’t feel comfortable saying Vaggie properly won this fight, she did a damn good job with what she had available and people need to stop hating on this character! Lute definitely did not win. And I’m REALLY hoping for a proper rematch because given Lute’s HATRED, she clearly feels at least challenged by Vaggie, one of Adam’s “best girls” who likely had at least Lute’s 275 kills annually… AND/OR she was dumped right before Vaggie’s last extermination and all the yuri 😍🥰😘😇🤣

[obislittleone]

Take It Off

Dbf!Joel Miller x College!Reader

A/n: y'all i know this is like... campy or whatever but humor me. I'm on a dbf joel kick and this was the only way I was gonna stop thinking about him 24/7. Still thinking about him rn but at least I can focus on my work tomorrow 😭 (shoutout to @theatrelove3000 for being on the joel kick with me)

Warnings: not many for this part really... the occasional swear word and like kissing but that's not really anything. Ig just the taboo relationship thing.

This is based off of a tiktok that can be found here.

Obviously, the song is Take It Off by Kesha.

MASTERLIST

- no outbreak au, age gap is about fifteen years, roughly. -

He chuckled again and nodded, watching as you almost turned away from him and his place at the bar, before catching you at the last second.

"You look mighty pretty, tonight," he let out sweetly, and your face lit up. You kept going in the direction of your friends but stepped backward in order to face him a bit longer.

The bar was always busy on Friday night, and most Saturdays were the same. Near every person of drinking age in Travis County could be found sitting at the long wood slab surrounding the bartender, or at one of the tables nearby. The busiest nights of the month, however, were the ones that cleared the floor for dancing. Line dancing, Swing dancing, and the sway of drunken people who could barely stand. Anything goes.

Music blazing through the windows brought on many patrons that sometimes never frequented the bar at all. You being one of them.

You'd never been one much for drinking your nights away, and in past experiences, you had turned out to be quite the designated driver. Your friends playfully joked time and again whenever you visited the establishment, how you never touched even so much as a beer bottle. In your own words, that doesn't mean I can't still have fun.

Dancing has always been something that could pull you out of your seat. College has been rocky, and finding fun things to do that didn't completely intoxicate you were limited... but when everyone gets up and starts kickin' round the concrete floors, you can't help but spring to your feet and join them.

Dance nights, you've been to more than you can count, but usually in places by where you go to school. College bars, campus built clubs, that sort of thing.

Tonight, you found yourself in a small bar your dad normally goes to. Of course, he hates dancing, so right now, he's nowhere to be seen. Someone you do notice on your way in, though....

Joel Miller.

Next door neighbor since you were sixteen and your father's closest friend since they started working together around that same time.

Joel was never someone you'd been able to call a personal friend, but he was someone you could depend on if you needed him. If your car wasn't working senior year and your dad couldn't pick you up? Call Joel. If you need help with the light fixture by the front porch and your dad doesn't have the right tools? Call Joel. Even just bringing home new furniture for your room while your dad was out of town... you called Joel. He was dependable, always one call away. In return of these good deeds, you'd babysat his daughter several times when she was younger. She was almost fifteen now, going into her sophomore year of high school. It felt crazy to think how long ago those memories were in hindsight.

You think your train of thought causes you to stare just a bit too long, and your friends begin to notice.

"Who's that?" Amy says with attitude... she isn't sure why the older guy in the corner seems to have caught your eye, but she doesn't hide her opposition to whatever it is.

You snapped back to the group and almost did a double take on where you were. It's Dance night, and you're here to have fun with your friends, not take a trip down memory lane. But if you did....

"That's my neighbor," you explained, smiling sweetly and trying to wipe the strange look from Amy's face.

"Oh," she dropped any hints of disgust that she wore only a moment ago and looked to the man herself. "For a minute there, I thought you might be into him."

"Amy, I know you don't go older... but that man's easy on the eyes," a voice came from your left, Kate. She had her hands mounted firmly on her hips as she took her time in scanning his appearance. Easy on the eyes, indeed. You'd always thought so.

He's a good man from everything you know. Everytime he's been at barbecues and house parties hosted in the neighborhood, he always made a point to ask you how you were doing, how you were liking college. He'd offer to grab you a drink or to help your dad with the grill. Honest to God, he's a real down to earth southern gentleman. Polite as they come, even when he doesn't speak much.

You suppose that with three younger girls staring holes through the side of him, he was bound to notice at some point. He caught your gaze and your friends' as well, offering up a nice smile and a nod in your direction. He stood away from the bar as if excusing him from any previous interaction, and you sighed, knowing that even with the music calling you to dance, you needed to make a small pit stop.

"Look at what y'all did, now I gotta go talk to 'im," you joke, starting over in his direction with a bashful smile.

You hear a bellowing 'you're welcome' from Kate, who likely could sense your faint attraction to the man. Given that you couldn't barely take your eyes away from him the second you entered, it dawned on her that there might possibly be something there. Obviously, she's just guessing, but your diminished swagger as you walk up to him tells her one thing: you're nervous.

Whether he makes you nervous, or you're just nervous to talk to him, it doesn't really matter to her. She's positive she's gained all the information she needs to know that you, at the very least, like him.

"Hey, I didn't think I'd see you here," you slipped beside him at the bar, facing his slumped over stature with a decent distance between you.

"I could say the same for you, I thought you were still in Dallas?" He asked, a confused look shown through a soft smile.

"I'm here to visit a while, might stay for the summer, actually."

He raised a brow, nodding and taking a swig of the beer he had. Maybe it's just the way him and your dad drink them all the time, but suddenly a beer of your own sounds somewhat appealing. You add on to your statement, trying to distract yourself from the new craving.

"Senior year is gonna kick my ass, so I might as well spend some time relaxin' for a bit."

Again, he nods, understanding how much stress it ought to be. He and your dad both never went to college. Thought about it, sure, maybe even looked at a couple schools... but they ended up doing just fine with the talents they had on their own.

"I imagine the last year s'not so fun... Remind me what you're going for, again?" He scratched the back of his neck, as if embarrassed to have forgotten. He reckons he asked you last time, too. Wasn't like you'd find it personally offensive that he'd not remembered. Your own grandmother couldn't even remember, so...

"Archeology, although I'm starting to think that maybe that wasn't the best Major for someone who lives in Texas," you joked, and he chuckled softly. He hadn't stopped wearing that faint smile ever since he'd noticed you were here.

"Ain't nothing wrong with it," he shook his head, trying his best to be encouraging. "Just gives you more places to go."

You gave him a look of sincerity. Even your dad had poked fun at you from time to time for your Major. 'Can't discover much out here, lovebug... just old pigskins and bottlecaps.'

"Thanks, I appreciate you sayin' that."

He shrugged as if it were no big deal. Validating your career decisions? That's an easy one on his part.

"No problem. Can I get you a drink while you're here?" He motioned to the bottle in his hands that you'd kept staring at during the entire exchange.

You finally realized how much you'd been glancing at it and had to stumble out a response under a slightly nervous laugh.

"Is it okay if I take a raincheck? I should get back to my friends, they get lost without me."

He chuckled again and nodded, watching as you almost turned away from him and his place at the bar, before catching you at the last second.

"You look mighty pretty, tonight," he let out sweetly, and your face lit up. You kept going in the direction of your friends but stepped backward in order to face him a bit longer.

"Don't look so bad yourself." And that was the reply you'd settled on. You finally made it back to your group, but you swore you saw a hint of a blush creep over the man's face. It was funny, to think that the big and strong next door neighbor was red in the cheeks by a compliment you paid him.

"What the hell was that?" Amy asked, crossing her arms over her chest. She was clearly confused and a bit peeved, but for why, you had no idea.

"What do you mean?" You didn't mean to play dumb, you genuinely didn't know what she was on about.

"You're into him," she said flatly, and you couldn't answer in words, but lucky for you, your face gave away everything you could have said, anyways.

"He's into her, too," Kate chimed in nonchalantly, and that revelation snapped your head around as quickly as it possibly could to meet her eyeline.

"No, he isn't... he's just bein' polite s' all," you denfended him, but in all honesty... if he was into you, it's not like you were appalled at the theory in the slightest. "He's my dad's buddy, I've known 'im a long time."

"Honey, let me offer you some good advice," Amy pulled you in so that only the group of you could hear. "Don't let your daddy know he looks at you like that."

You didn't even stop to think about how he was looking at you. It was the same he'd always looked at you, right? But then again, he'd never taken in your appearance and called you pretty like he'd just done. Mighty pretty...

"You guys are seein' things that aren't there..." you shook off their suggestions, and tried to get on with the night.

"If you say so," Kate replied, not without looking between you and that neighbor of yours again. He was certainly a looker. "But if you're not interested, maybe I'll ask him for a dance?"

You laughed a little, not wanting to discourage her idea, but knowing from experience that, "Joel doesn't dance, but you can ask him all you want."

"Mister neighbor guy has a name, huh? Joel..." Amy repeated it like it was some sort of spell. You laughed at her and Kate before speaking again.

"At this point, I don't care who you ask, but we came here to dance, s' I wanna dance."

The first few dances you participated in were just lines, several fun songs blasting over the speakers to bring out more patrons. Now, the lines broke apart and the song 'Step in the Name of Love' came on. It wasn't uncommon for this song to be played as it was a favorite in the bar, but you weren't interested in dancing to it at the moment, given that some swing partners started going out for it.

They seemed to agree with you and headed over towards the open floor. The lights of different colors rotated around the room to set the mood, and about fifteen other people had been drawn out to the cleared area for dancing by now, but the night was far young.

-

You watched as Amy and Kate wrangled themselves some lonely boys by the sidelines and pulled them to the clearing for some fun. Normally, you'd do the same, but something about Joel Miller being at the bar and watching the crowds made you feel like maybe you'd rather sit this one out. Didn't stop some poor soul from trying to get you out there, though.

You felt a sly hand pull you by the waist and away from the floor-to-ceiling wooden beam you'd been leaning on. He was cute, but not your type. Blondie, blue-eyed. You gave him a warm smile and shook your head.

"I'm takin' a little break," you nodded for him to go out and find someone else, but he continued to pull you, now by your forearms.

"C'mon, hot stuff," he started swaying a bit to try and get you to do the same, but again you pulled back into the beam, leaning there again and giving a slightly less friendly smile as you shook your head again. "S' just a little fun."

At this point, you knew he probably had a few drinks in him, if his glazed stare was anything to go by. You crossed your arms over your chest and looked at him more pointedly.

"There's a bunch of girls over there waitin' to dance, you should ask them."

"I didn't ask them, I'm askin' you," he started getting closer again, and you were about to just walk away and go to the bathroom. Your usual escape plan for avoiding weirdos.

"And I'm sayin' no, bud," you gave your last effort to shove him off, but he huffed, and came even closer. By now you'd missed your chance to cut around the beam and head to the bathroom. Boys down here ain't as courteous as the ones in Dallas, you guessed. That, or they didn't see unfamiliar faces around often, and tried to take advantage of it.

"Hey, baby... you ready for that drink?" A voice came from your left, and you turned to see Joel coming over, an innocent enough look on his face, though you knew he'd been watching and came to help you out.

"Yeah, definitely!" You smiled brightly at him and the guy took a step back to stare him up and down. Much bigger build, much older, and you knew him by the looks of it. The kid huffed out and knew he wasn't getting his way this time around. You sidestepped him now that you had room, and dismissed yourself, "Excuse me."

You hooked your arm around Joel's elbow as you walked back towards his spot at the bar. Standing here, now, you realize he had a perfect view of your situation.

"Thank you for saving me," you laughed, sticking close by him until you were sure that kid had gone off. "This doesn't usually happen in Dallas."

He shook his head, it was no problem. Didn't need thanks, just wanted for you to be where you were now.

"I've seen that kid here before, he's harmless... but I wanted to make sure you didn't feel uncomfortable by 'im," his explanation felt like he was trying to justify himself. As if he needed a reason for saving you.

"Even so, I appreciate it. I didn't feel like swingin' tonight," your own explanation followed, but one second later it felt like a lie... you wouldn't mind swinging with him, but he doesn't dance.

"Yeah, I'm not much one for any of it," he chuckled, confirming your last thought to be completely true. Joel does not dance. "You looked good out there, though."

You ducked your head in an attempt to hide the pink spread over your face, but he seemed to catch it. He smiled to himself. He'd never been like this around you before, but maybe the reason for that would be the lack of presence of your dad. He'd never dare to look at you like this in front of him, never did before.

"It's been a while since I came to a dance night here, figured I'd show my face again," you stumbled into your reply, a little nervous again from his words. He'd been watching you from here, you can tell just by turning your head that he had a good view of the floor, too.

"I'm glad to see you back," he tapped his beer on the counter slightly, his smile still evident. "How about that drink?"

The bartender had been close by, and you hailed him over to grab you a beer. Same one Joel was drinking. You didn't have a preferred taste to any drinks in specific, but both Joel and your dad drank Bud, so you were going to try one.

You took a sip when the bottle was in your hand, and even though you didn't expect yourself to like it... it wasn't bad at all. You went for another sip and Joel chuckled at your side.

"S' good, huh?"

"Better than I thought it would be."

By now you'd gotten used to the taste, and as you kept drinking, the words you said to him became easier to say. You weren't quite buzzed yet, but rather relaxed. Whether that had anything to do with the alcohol, or just that he was a familiar presence, you didn't really know.

"So how are things? I know Sarah's goin' into sophomore year, yeah?" you asked, the counter becoming your friend as you leaned more into it.

"Been fine," he thought about it some more, remembering what Sarah had been telling him. "She's glad to have a break from school, but she's real bright, gets all A's n' that sort of thing."

"She's probably gonna have schools lined up to give 'er scholarships in a few years," you told him, and he nodded, taking a moment to let it sink in.

"I can't be thinkin' that far ahead, already blows my mind that she's in high school."

"My dad used to say the same thing," you smiled faintly at the way he used to tell you, 'Stop gettin' so big, girl. Gonna have to start carryin' a shotgun around, keep the boys away.' "Guess I'm all grown up, now."

That, he knew for a fact.

"Yeah, grown up," he repeated, taking another swig of beer before turning back to face you.

You'd seemed to have something on your mind, but until now, weren't able to voice it. Maybe the alcohol was doing it's job after all.

"I know you don't dance," you started, and he chuckled lowly. He knew where it was going but didn't dare interrupt you. Not yet, at least. "Maybe just this once you'll make an exception."

He actually thought about it for a second. Maybe he could make an exception, just this once, for you. He'd been caught in a few conversations by some buddies who were here tonight, but besides that, he'd mostly entertained himself by keeping an eye on you. Watching you dance, talking with your friends, and then getting hit on by that blonde kid.

"How about next time?" He asked, knowing how slim the chances were that he'd be at another dance night over the summer. He'd only come tonight because a few buddies had been here.

You understood that was the nice way of saying no, and you understood he wasn't much for that kinda fun. You didn't blame him, it took a certain type of personality to enjoy the spectacle.

"I know s'not your scene," you sighed out and set the now empty bottle on the ledge of the bar. "But I'll be out there incase you change your mind."

He gave you a small nod and you turned to leave, but with the confidence flowing through your veins in the form of a beer, you stepped back up to him quickly, pressing the smallest kiss you could conjure against his cheek, "Thanks for the drink."

You didn't even wait to see how he reacted, you were already turned around and ready to go back to the dance floor. You found your friends by the edge of the room, and they'd just come off from swinging.

"Where'd you go? We didn't see you the last few dances."

"Some kid was givin' me a hard time... Joel scared 'im off easy," you told them, and though Amy seemed to not notice the implications, Kate seemed rather intrigued.

"He did, huh?" She gave you a pointed look with her eyebrow raised.

"Oh hush, I'm back aren't I?" You gave her a playful smack to the arm and she held her arms up in defense.

"So, you gonna dance now, or what? Thought that's what you came here to do?" She mocked, using your words from earlier.

Truth be told, you wanted to dance, but with the kind rejection of the person you'd wanted to dance with, the mood had been changed slightly.

The current song was ending, and in only seconds the next one to start playing drew droves of people onto the floor. It's been a pretty popular song as of lately in the line dance society.

Take it off, by Kesha.

You knew the steps, the walls, the restarts. Probably better than any other song you'd danced to tonight. It had been a favorite of yours in Dallas, and you wouldn't lie, you were glad to see it made it's way into Travis County.

Your friends squealed and pulled you along to the floor, and you didn't even try to fight them off. You went to the back corner, which coincidentally (not at all) could be seen the easiest from the part of the bar that Joel was hanging out by. At the start of the song he'd been engrossed in conversation by the person next to him, but once he caught wind of you stepping foot into the mix, he'd fixed his attention in your direction. His buddy still rambled on, but he'd only give an occasional nod, or a soft 'uhuh,' to tell the man he was listening.

You had waited for the chorus until you looked right at him. You did the steps, and given that the wall was facing the bar, you wanted to be a little punk and tease him.

He'd watched as you stepped and turned, how the jersey you were wearing loosely hung onto you when you did. You'd worn black fringe boots with a pair of black shorts and fishnets beneath them. The shorts could barely be seen for the length of the Ranger's jersey over everything.

You saw him tense up a little, and you couldn't be sure if it was your doing, but it didn't matter... you were determined to get a reaction out of him regardless.

You took the skip step and followed the instructions of the song:

Turn me on...

Now, turning towards the other side, you grabbed the bottom hem of your jersey:

Take it off....

And you did. The polyester knit fabric was pulled up and over your head to reveal the tight black tank underneath, cropped at the mid section and clinging to midly sweaty skin. You flung the jersey to a corner of the room, and some of the guys on the floor were whistling.

Joel's eyes never left yours, even as you turned and faced the next wall. Every time you turned around, you were looking right back at him, a smirk plastered over your lips as you mouthed the words. His jaw clicked, and he huffed deeply, finally out of conversation with the man beside him. He drank the rest of his beer and left the bottle on the countertop.

You didn't realize he'd left the bar until you had turned from the last wall. You kept dancing, but couldn't find him anywhere in the bar. Maybe he'd been fed up with you and gone home... but that was unlikely.

You waited for the song to end, then stepped off the floor, nodding for your friends to stay through the next song. You told them you were gonna try and find your jersey, and they were more than happy to keep dancing without you.

You scanned the room, now able to see behind the crowds of dancers, but couldn't see Joel even still. You went up to the bar to see if he'd just moved seats, but he wasn't around there either.

You figured he did actually go home, because when you looked and saw the clock on the wall, it read 12:05. Sure, it was a weekend. But Joel's a set schedule kinda guy. You knew he'd probably already been out too late.

You turned back around and went searching instead for your jersey, but it hadn't been where you threw it. You could swear tonight was just a night for you to loose things, until there was a tap on your shoulder.

You spun around and smiled widely.

"You lookin' for this?" Joel stood with your jersey clutched tightly in his hand. He held it out to you and you took it thankfully, sliding it back on.

"Yeah, thank you," you'd waited to say anything further until your head had peaked through the top. "I didn't see you at the bar, figured you'd gone on home."

"I was thinkin' bout heading out soon, wanted to make sure I saw you first."

You weren't exactly sure of his meaning, but damnit, the sparks in your skin when he said those words. Your stomach fluttered and you almost didn't know what to say.

"Well to be honest, I'm glad you caught me... I'm thinkin' about calling an uber and gettin' outta here, too."

He raised a brow and proposed an idea.

"I can take you home, if you want." The offer was kind and genuine, but to be completely honest, he just wanted the extra time with you. He liked being near you, because you were good company, and also... mighty pretty. "Not like it's out of my way."

You laughed lightly at his joke. Truly, why waste the time in calling someone else to drive you home when he could do it? He lived next door, it would be crazy not to.

"That would be great, actually," you agreed, smiling to him in thanks but then turning back to the dance floor. "I ought to go let them know."

He nodded and let you off, watching as you went to find your friends. They seemed like nice girls. Not quite like you, but nice all the same. You seemed to enjoy their company well enough.

You found them by the edge of the floor, heaving and sweaty from the last dance. They saw you and waved you over, sitting into some chairs by the wall.

"Are you gonna swing at all?" Amy asked, her hands on top of her head to control her breathing.

"No, I think I'm done for tonight," you handed Kate the watter bottle she'd gestured for you to grab her on the next table. "But you guys are good, I got a ride home."

Amy dropped the look of neutrality on her face when she realized.

"With the neighbor?" Her eyes went wide when you nodded, but you hadn't illuded to anything else, just that he was giving you a ride home.

"Girl, I knew it. I'm never wrong," Kate jumped in, looking around the bar to see where he was at. "That man's got it for you."

"Y'all just needa calm down, alright? He's just bein' nice... Besides, he lives right next door, it's not like he's going out of his way for me."

Kate rolled her eyes and sat back in her seat, waving you off. She wasn't annoyed, but she knew you weren't telling them everything, and she knew that the man next door, Joel, was clearly attracted to you in some capacity.

"Alright, girl, you go on, now.... and enjoy your ride."

Amy winked at you before you started walking away, laughing at her antics and flipping her off as you left. It was always in good fun, but sometimes they were just too accurate on their assumptions.

You found Joel where you left him, scrolling through some texts from your dad. He probably was letting him know he'd be dropping you off. He looked up when you stopped in front of him, a sweet smile he was met with.

"Ready?"

"Mhm," you hummed in response, watching as he held out his elbow for you to take, just like earlier. "Ever the gentleman."

He chuckled, waiting until you hooked your arm around his to start walking to the door.

Being so close to him all throughout the night, you'd started feeling a sense of familiarity that hadn't been there before. His smell, his energy, the way he walked. It all became so much more apparent than it ever had been. You noticed how naturally big his arms were, and how broad his shoulders looked in the shirt he was wearing. Black and white baseball tee, which hugged tightly his arms and shoulders, but hung looser around his ribs and waist. He wasn't muscular by any means, and in some places, you could tell he was a little soft... but it was a good look on him. Attractive.

Getting to his truck, he opened the passenger door for you before going around to his side and jumping in. He watched you pull out your phone, and for a second, you weren't even sure why you had in the first place... force of habit.

You swiped out of instagram and opened snapchat, tapping him on the shoulder as you held the phone up. He looked over and saw you were trying to take a photo. He leaned over, an awkward smile on his face when you snapped it.

"What's that for?" He furrowed his brow, starting up the truck and pulling out.

"S' just for me," you told him. You saved it to your camera roll, discarding it afterwards and neglecting to post it. No filter, no caption, just you and Joel miller sitting in his truck.

"So, how you liking Dallas?" He attempted to keep the conversation going, and you smiled at him for it. He was normally someone who kept quiet in a setting like this. On the drive home after a rowdy night out. It was unlike him to want to speak so much, but nevertheless, you entertained him.

"It's alright, a lot bigger than here, but I kinda like the small town scene better."

"I never took you for a city girl, but I knew you could do well there," he replied honestly. He kept his eyes on the road, every once and a while into his mirrors. You figured that was for the best, because then he couldn't catch you staring so much.

"Still prefer this, though," you said softly. You'd looked back to the window, and missed when he finally looked over at you, a sweet look in his eyes. He's happy you're home. You know that much... but he can't tell you outright because, why is he so happy that you're home? You're not his buddy, you're only his buddy's daughter.

"Everyone's gonna be glad to have you 'round for the summer," he said it as inconspicuously as he could... but you still read between the lines. He's happy you're home.

"Maybe not Mrs. Stanton," you joked. The woman had been your elderly neighbor to the other side of you and wasn't necessarily a fan of any person younger than thirty. She liked peace and quiet and mundane life. Parties and Barbacues were not her setting, and she loathed your dad and Joel for throwing so many over the years. All for the sake of you and Sarah, of course, birthdays, graduation, etc.

"She's never glad about nothin', I don't count her."

Nearing the edge of your neighborhood, you yawned and turned back to him, seeing as he was carefully making his way onto your street.

You laughed a little, then fell into a comfortable silence the rest of the way. Travis County is a small place, not much around, everything is within twenty minutes distance or less, just about.

-

"Thanks for drivin' me home."

"No problem, darlin'," he parked in front of your house, even though he could have just pulled into his driveway and made you walk across the yards between.

You smiled at him sweetly and he couldn't help himself anymore, he just had to ask...

"And thanks again for that drink," you said, looking at him over the console. He'd leaned ever so slightly closer to you, and you could swear neither of you were gonna look away.

Those brown eyes were so damn captivating. Ain't no way you'd survive being a victim of their longing stare. Just as well, he seemed to be in a similar trance, with you being the one to cast the spell.

"Can I kiss you?" It was almost a whisper, and though soft in your ears, it rang out over and again.

You didn't even answer him. You just closed the space between you, pressing your lips against his in a gentle motion that was almost too much for him to handle. He'd not even thought twice before asking you, and now he was kissing his best buddy's daughter. You were always wordlessly off limits to him, but right now, it didn't feel that way.

He held you by the back of your neck, pulling you deeper, closer. He didn't stop it from getting hotter, heavier, and maybe he should have. It was far too late for that, now.

Your arms dangled over his shoulders, the broadness of them that you'd admired only twenty minutes ago. So broad, so strong.

He raised the center console up for you to slide across, and you didn't bother to say a word before you straddled his waist, still buckled in his seat belt.

The audacity of this scenario. Your dad was in the house the truck was parked in front of, and here you were sat on his best friend's lap and making out with him shamelessly. Joel was playing with fire, and buried in the back of his mind, he was well aware of that fact... but damnit, he wasn't stopping for nothing.

His hands rubbed up and down your thighs, covered in the fishnets he'd kept such a close eye on earlier. Something about the secrecy of this, the fact that no one could ever know, made it that much more exciting.

You both jumped apart at the light over your driveway turning on, being caught by the suddenness of the flash. You saw a neighborhood stray cat walk across the yard soon after, and realized it had set off the censor for the light.

You breathed out a breath you didn't remember holding, and looked back to Joel with sleepy eyes and swollen lips. "I should go."

He nodded, helping you slip off of him and into your own seat, gathering your phone and keys before opening the door. He caught your hand just before you got out, and gave it a tight squeeze.

You smiled at him and continued to get out of the car, giving your last words before you shut the door.

"I'll see you," he promised, his eyes assuring you of his words. To hell with those brown eyes, they were gonna be the death of you, and you knew it.

"I'll see you."

A/n: if anyone wants a part 2 lemme know otherwise this is a oneshot lol

(Tags are always open!)

[prolix-yuy]

Writers' Iron Chef #13: Lovesick

[PROMPT] Patching up a wound

[ADDITIONAL PROMPT] “Why would you put yourself through something like that?”

[TIME LIMIT] Optional, 10 minutes prep. time 30 minutes writing time Optional, 10 minutes editing time

Pairing: Joel Miller x GN!Reader

Rating: M, descriptions of wound care and blood, allusions to dubcon due to drinking and drug use. While this story is not explicit, my blog and the content shared on it is 18+ so MINORS DNI.

Summary: You've been greedy for Joel for too long.

Notes: Written for Writers’ Iron Chef Prompt 13

I've had a Joel story idea bouncing around in my head for several months now, but it's not much more than disconnected scenes and a vibe, you know? I decided to try and exorcise a part with this prompt. This was imspired by a scene in the movie Foe with Saoirse Ronan and Paul Mescal (which was excellent, btw) that got the creative juices flowing.

Thanks to @writersironchef for always giving the best prompts!

The blood that runs into the sink isn’t yours, but it is Joel Miller’s and that’s hardly better.

Laying the needle and scissors beside the sink, you dry your hands on a towel that doesn’t make you feel much cleaner. There’s probably still blood under your nails, half moons of frenzied memories you can look back on when you’re in bed tonight.

“Joel, what the fuck?”

“I need…”

He didn’t have to say much more, and your stomach sours for it. Joel could say he needed you to balance on the edge of a razor and you’d do it just for the fact that he needed you. Pitiful, lovesick, desperate you.

He’d shredded his back coming back into the QZ scrambling away from patrol lights. Tess split off from him, trades to be made and deals best done without her loyal attack dog. So he’d stumbled back to his apartment, stopping just long enough to knock at yours across the hall.

“Jesus Christ, how did you fuck yourself up this badly?”

“FEDRA’s patrolling our usual spots, think they’re onto us…fuck!”

You salved his wounds with apologies as you cleaned grit from long scrapes and worried at the beads of blood that melted across your fingers. The worst was a gash you had to close, infection too present a worry. Hardening your gut, you tried to disassociate how much like sewing leather it felt. Joel bit down on his belt and stuffed his face in a pillow, but fists still slammed on walls around you at his ruckus. 

“I’m done, I’m done, it’s finished.”

“Jesus ‘n Mary, there ain’t much left for you to piece back together at this rate.”

Walking back to the bed, he’s disheveled but alive. He asks for booze, which you find in a high cabinet. He asks for pills, reluctantly revealed to live in a false drawer bottom. You don’t have to say he can trust you with these secrets. Vices were too expensive for you most days. Once he downs both he lays back, injury padded with the cleanest cloths you could find. His breathing hitches, pants in pain, then slows as the drugs and drink take effect. 

And then it’s just you, sitting next to your neighbor as his body releases. 

You should go. Tess would be back any time now and you didn’t want her to see your longing. There are whispers about if Joel is hers, and while you know they belong to each other in a way drenched in darkness, you’ve never been sure if the claim is on their hearts as well. It’s just vague enough of a partnership that when Joel has a good day and shares an extra ration card, your heart flutters. 

But it’s too dangerous. He’s too dangerous, the both of them. You can’t get mixed up in whatever they have going on. Why would you put yourself through something like that?

It’s not the first time he’s come home bloodied, and not the first time you’ve pulled him back together. There’s trust there, but also foolish hope that life could march on and a man could desire you again. Maybe even care for you enough to break teeth and bones. 

A brush against your arm turns you back to Joel, eyes half-lidded but trained hazily on you. One large hand skims over your shoulder, down your arm and lands heavily in your lap. 

“Joel?” you ask, looking down at his thick fingers splayed across your thighs. He hums, low and rumbly as his lips part. 

He’s surely too far gone to know you’re even here. It would be best to slip out unnoticed, talk to Tess tomorrow about checking his injury for infection. 

But you don’t. You’re frozen as the calloused skin of his thumb catches on the worn fibers of your jeans. It’s a caress you haven’t known for years. 

He doesn’t know it’s you.

“Joel,” you say again, and enough courage bolsters you to slide your hand into his palm, the other circling his wrist. He’s so warm, thick-skinned against your fingers. You start to lift from the bed, intending to place his hand where you sat, when it makes a drunken path to cup your chin. Pressure against your jaw turns your face to him spread out on the bed beside you. His chest is bare, light perspiration beading along the cut of his collarbone. He licks his lips slowly, the slip of tongue drawing an ache up from the deepest well. 

“Hey there,” he drawls, and god, you could shatter from it. Tears build in your eyes but you can’t move, his hands drawing you down to him. 

“Joel, it’s…I’m not…” you choke out. It’s a final defense. He’ll hate you tomorrow, but you’ll have said something. His lip quirks, not quite a smile. 

“I know,” he husks before leading your lips to meet his.

You’re not sure he does, but you’re too greedy to say more.

END

[mactiir]

I just started doing HEMA, is there any workouts I can do so I’m not worn out at the end of a single bout?

You probably won't like this answer but, running.

Understand I'm RELATIVELY new to HEMA (less than 2 years) and also fairly new to being non-sedentary (couldn't run a mile before this year and only started sort of working out ~3 years ago), so I am not an expert. But Sparring WIPED me when I started. I cross trained with climbing for several months, figuring strength and balance were the trick, especially since my arms and back were sore CONSTANTLY at first. And climbing helped like, a tiny bit, but I still had zero capacity for long or multiple bouts. Then I picked up regular running specifically to increase my endurance for steel kit HEMA. In 3 months of regular cardio I went from fencing like, 2 bouts a day max before I was too wiped to continue, to fencing 5-6 high intensity bouts in a day with a energy to spare.

And, honestly, running sucked ass at first. I took 5 months to complete a "9 week" couch-to-5k program. I walked over 90% of my miles for the first month. But holy shit, I feel like a fucking Olympian in the ring. Even when my technique needs work I'm literally running circles around fencers whose only cardio is fencing.

Strength is good too, but I hate weights so I do body weight stuff around climbing. Exercises focused on the upper back and shoulders are useful specifically for longsword. These can be low-weight, since swords aren't honestly that heavy (although strength can be useful in tourney bouts, strength building is a different story from 'doing bouts without feeling like death'). Bicep and tricep curls, chest presses and overhead rows will all make it so your arms/back/shoulders don't get tired. But for me, and for a lot of new fencers, the limiting factor is cardio, cardio, cardio. Do more cardio. Take as much time as you need to build up to regular and comfortable cardio, but. Seriously. Do cardio.

[mistakenot4892]

Nebula devblog, July '24

Sneaking in this month's update two days before August due to Nova Lands eating an entire week of dev time and Warframe eating another 2 days. It's a hard life. This one will probably be a bit patchy or sparse as I have genuinely lost track of what was new this month due to leaving it this late. I am a highly trained and competent professional.

Nebula SS13 is an open source project based on the Baystation 12 version of Space Station 13. SS13 is a topdown multiplayer simulation game where you play the crew of a ship, station, colony, etc. depending on your fork and map, with the Nebula and Bay forks having a focus on roleplaying and simulation interactions.

Notable changes

The first phase of a major AI rewrite has gone in, separating AI behavior from mob type so human-type mobs can be given AI. This is mostly to support undead and skeletons on Pyrelight at the moment, but will be much more flexible in general going forward.

Simple wall-based windows/shutters have been added for low tech maps that need airflow and light. Penny's genius idea of having them cast a light cone towards the darker side of the shutter makes for some very aesthetic medieval interiors.

Spacefarers, a ship-based fork, has a new ship, and the painfully tricky shuttle rotation PR Penny has been working on is slowly progressing towards a mergable state. When it goes in, manual ship landing will be greatly expanded as shuttles will be able to rotate to match docking ports, instead of having to strictly dock in the same direction every time.

The atom temperature system has been disabled in several cases due to a lot of weird edge cases and bugs in the simulation. It needs more time in the oven. The disabled interactions include things like all of your blood congealing into black pudding if you stand on a stove, being able to instantly heat a beaker of beer to 5000K with a cigarette lighter, or all of your clothes melting off in a fire.

Penny has also put a bunch of work in to moving most of the 'classic' Baystation SS13 game modes into modpacks. This allows forks to pick and choose which are available, since as funny as it could have been, having high tech spacer mercenaries landing on Middle-Earth wouldn't fit the vibes.

Lots of small changes and features have been coming out of the Pyrelight fantasy map testing. Little things like honey being usable for wound disinfection, various crafting tweaks, and things like flooded turfs not putting out your lamp unless it's deeper than your waist.

Automated movement that previously relied on BYOND's inbuilt walk_to() procs now use a dedicated subsystem that calls the appropriate MayMove()/DoMove() proc chains. This essentially just means AI-driven mobs no longer completely ignore little things like pain, having working legs, or being dead or unconscious when chasing you.

Bugs of note

Trout were completely invisible because their main texture was accidentally named world-trout instead of world. This definitely impacted the trout population.

Undead on Pyrelight don't know how to pick up their weapons if they drop them, so disarming them literally or figuratively makes it turn into a slapfight.

Prosthetic limbs, like cybernetics or peglegs, were getting itchy or developing rashes. Maybe it's psychosomatic.

Simple animals like deer were dying en masse on the wilderness maps due to hail. We didn't intend for hail to be the size of hen eggs and covered in spikes, so deer and such are now unhurt by weather.

Current priorities

Personally my focus has been on getting through the Pyrelight feedback list after each test. Lots of small things come out of each test round and my limited time after my real-world job has cut into my space feature time. The Neb general issue list has been getting a bit long so I'll probably put a weekend into getting that cut down again this month.

Otherwise, I have three big PRs open waiting for me to find the focus to finish them: the floor rewrite (aiee), a wizard modpack and ability rework (needed for Pyrelight, eventually, but augh), and a bee rewrite (beewrite) to make bees and other insect nests available outside of one specific machine on space maps.

NataKillar has an amazing PR in the works that sounds quite mundane: separating liquid and solid reagents in reagent containers like beakers. However, this opens up a buttload of interesting chemical interactions down the track, not the least of which is finally getting ice cubes to not require a dedicated ice material.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 5/7/2024

i have Got to read a book i enjoy this week or my brain will turn into something the consistency of dried tomato paste on a kitchen counter

also i have lost track of the timing and rhythm of the seasons so for the first time in a very long time there is no may starred war tuesdaypost

listening

Chapstick by COIN off my weekly recommended spotify playlist. i don’t think this song is particularly interesting or well-executed as a whole, but the lyrics

She’s a friend of mine, and an alibi

And the getaway car in overdrive, like

Hey sharpshooter, I like the way you’re moving

i think the use case for this song is a telecom company trying to get you to switch by promising some portable Bluetooth speakers for your summer parties and this is playing diagetically as we slip in and out of various summer parties, following one TV-hot woman in a sundress

-

reading

i am once again not sleeping well and have shoved a lot of mediocre books into my gaping maw. i have read a good fuckin chuck of the jason todd outlaws runs. i like jason todd/the red hood bc i feel a certain kinship with someone trained for an incredibly specific thing who are then thrown away the second they stop conforming. darth maul also but that’s a different post.

i have several bones to pick with writer scott lobdell. i know this was the early teens but can we chill with the misogyny for a singular page. why themes of addiction only when it is needed to fill a narrative lull? and why are you continually going to put jason in interesting situations where he might confront his trauma or grow despite his trauma and then. not have him confront his trauma or grow at all because of it??? i like snatches of the early issues of the run, when the outlaws are figuring out how to be a polycule team on the most beautiful deserted island and crashed spaceship you’ve ever seen. i liked the art in most issues and these had just enough fun flashes of character (about every other issue) to keep me reading. but im annoyed by it.

i finally finished Wilkie Collins’ The Moonstone, the first physical paper book i have finished in a long time. the flaw of being the first in the english detective fiction genre is that everyone who comes after has a lot of time to perfect it. i felt the actual perpetrator was a little beyond belief and the ending was fumbled. however it was very good at sustaining my interest for like 400 pages. not my picture bc i cannot be bothered to find my copy and bother a cat, but this is the penguin edition i own. i don’t actually know if i will keep it on my shelves but maybe it’s more of a trophy of me getting back into reading physical books?

Alexis Hall’s Mortal Follies also annoyed me. i do not think this author’s strong suit is in longer books. i have read previous books in two hours and change and while i found the ending here satisfying from a fairytale perspective, i did not enjoy the path we took to get there. i thought we were ending and wrapping things up at least three times, and the number of Things that happen in order to carry us on to the next Thing does not feel gleefully madcap but sort of frantically shambling. a very classic three-days time limit is introduced in the middle, it is met, and then we continue on for several months. also the author introduces the concept of shipping your friends with an equally made-up word as shipping through one of the more tiresome characters in the novel and this…cracking? chip? in the fourth wall? fucking annoyed me. it felt very out of tone with the rest of the book. surely there was a better way for this character to express that she wanted the two leads to be together

-

watching

Hammerhead (1968, dir. Miller). this is leaving tubi soon and sometimes the heart needs a silly little James Bond ripoff. had high hopes for this one bc it was rated R and the baddie was obsessed with collecting vintage erotica. i don’t really know why this is rated R. the erotica we see is almost all prints of Fine Art Nudes. there’s a lot of cleavage and undergarments and bikinis but not like. full frontal at any point. no man has their chest out except for an enterprising motorcyclist near the end.

anyway this is a deeply unserious film, as you may surmise. it’s not much fun, especially when it’s not very good at getting everyone to the next scene. Vince Edwards is kind of a cold fish, i do not know why every woman is throwing herself at him. Judy Geeson makes every scene she’s in better (there’s a very funny scene in a post office where they play both keepaway and the thimble game with an important package) but she cannot hold the whole dragging movie up by herself. god they made leading ladies fucking tiny back then. very throwable

-

playing

not fallow but i don’t have anything interesting to say about genshin this week. a friend started playing fnv after several months of subtle hints, i was only able to join his streams after twenty hours in and promptly let him know the inventory is sortable if you click at the top. how had he been going through his whole fucking inventory for twenty hours like that. a man singularly obsessed with both inventory management and min-maxing caps. he had like 8k caps by the time he got to Novac, taking the normal route. people sure can play games in different ways huh

-

making

put some dijon mustard and some broccoli in some macaroni and cheese. that's about it

[darkandstormydolls]

I finished another costume project!

And let me tell you. There was a curse on this or something. First I had trouble getting the fabric. I ordered a 25 yard bolt of white cotton, considering that I’m always using it for petticoats and stuff, and would need a lot for this dress, only to get an email from the fabric shop saying “so, we know you wanted 25 yards, we have like ten and a lot of it is in 1 or 2 yard cuts”

I just wanted to get working, so I told them to send what they have and send me the rest when they restock. Thankfully, I managed to cut everything out on what they sent me (really thankfully because this was several months ago and I still haven’t gotten the rest. I was told “probably some time in December”)

Then the buttons I wanted were out of stock. Then the replacement buttons came and were a lot more of a copper color than they looked in the pictures. Then I found three good buttons at Joann’s, but only three, so I had to order the rest online.

There wasn’t enough stock of the lace trim I wanted for the whole dress, although that turned out to be a blessing in disguise because then I could mix a wider lace in

And yet, I overcame all of these curses, to create:

Victorian Gabriel!

So, the story behind this dress is that I went to a class at a costume event about reinterpreting and putting your own spin on costumes, and one of the things they mentioned was historical cosplays. I was immediately inspired, thinking of a character from a piece of media I had never interacted with (I’m not a video game person), but that I had heard a lot about from my friend, including but not limited to the fanfic about it that they sent me of it to read on the plane on the way to this event. I’d made an early 1870s dress before, so I had some patterns and a general sense of what I was doing. The idea was there, and I promptly did my best to sketch it on a lined notebook with random colors of ballpoint pens while sitting in a hotel lobby.

The original idea

Of course, this was back in July, so this dress has been a long time coming. There were all the issues with getting my supplies, and then I kept having to stop and work on other things, like some things for a Girl Scout project and things for Halloween. But finally, finally, it is done, and well worth the wait

I love this dress dearly. I may be my favorite costume I have ever made. There are two pockets in the skirt that go down to about my ankles to fit my swords (spirit Halloween swords that I spray painted), so that I can pull my swords out of seemingly nowhere (there are also normal pockets for normal things). The trained petticoat I made has lace trim, to add extra fluff to the hem. There is so much lace and sparkles and other fun things. I made all sorts of little accessories, from the earrings to a laurel wreath for my hair (out of trim left over from another costume)

I did some hand embroidery on the skirt with some metallic thread

And it’s just a delight to wear!

I especially like how it looks from the back, with the bow and train and all the fun details :)

[suspensefulpen]

Birthday Gift

TW: Pet Whump, Collar and Leash, Conditioned Whumpee, Creepy/Obsessed Whumper, Bad Caretaker, Being Referred to as It

Whumper dragged Whumpee across the polished floors. Despite how much it hurt, he knew not to react. Whumper would stop the entire party just to reprimand him. But he also knew they wouldn’t do anything to make Caretaker upset. Whoever she was.

Despite how much he had to endure Whumper rambling about her, he didn’t actually know who she was. He only knew that Whumper was willing to do anything just for her attention and praise. They’d drop to their knees and give up everything just for her. Whumpee didn’t understand what made her so great. It was almost like Whumper saw her as a goddess to bow down to. No, there was no almost. Whumper did see her as a goddess to bow down to. And worship. Whumpee saw it first hand.

He always wondered what made them so attached to Caretaker. Why was she meant to be hailed as a goddess? What made her so special that a sociopath was willing to crumble just for her? It had to be something. Whumper never mentioned why they felt this way towards her but there had to be some reason. After all, they cleaned Whumpee up and gave them nice clothes just to drag them here.

They approached a woman in an elegant green dress, gold decorating her neck and wrists as she happily greeted the other guests. Whumpee assumed this was Caretaker. There was something about her that made the space around her brighten. She was smiling and full of energy. Maybe Whumper wanted to be around her because they were incapable of feeling that. Or maybe she filled a void inside them that Whumpee had no clue about.

The other guests quickly stepped away when they noticed Whumper. Whumpee guessed that was a sign that they didn’t limit their abuse and threats to one person. Caretaker’s attention was instantly brought to the two approaching her. Her smile widened as she brightened even more. By this point, Whumpee was blinded.

“Whumper! It’s so nice to see you! How are you?”

Whumper immediately switched the hand that held Whumpee’s arm. Wiping their now free hand on their suit jacket as if Whumpee had germs, they took Caretaker’s hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles. “How I’ve been doesn’t matter, dearest. What matters is if you’re enjoying your birthday ball.” Whumper even gave her a bow.

“Oh of course I am! I’m enjoying it even more now that I know you’ve arrived. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you.” She said sadly.

“Deepest apologies Mistress,” They briefly lowered their head. “I’ve been busy preparing your gift.”

“For three months?” She raised a brow.

“Yes.” They nodded.

“I bet it’s wonderful.” Caretaker smiled softly. Whumpee didn’t understand how she could so easily ignore Whumper’s monotone. He assumed this was normal for them to speak with absolutely no emotion. He almost wanted to hide when her gaze landed on him. “Whumper, who’s this adorable person?”

Whumper glared daggers up into Whumpee before dropping it and tunring back to Caretaker. “It’s your gift, Ma’am.”

“My gift?”

“Yes. This is Whumpee. Your new pet. I trained it just for you, Miss.”

“For me? Whumper you’re so sweet! Thank you!”

Great. She’s insane too. Whumpee saw a small smile on her face before glancing at Whumper’s hidden one. Not as insane as them I bet.

“It’ll do whatever you ask it. I trained it with hand motions and verbal commands so you can switch between them if you ever need to.” Whumper explained.

“That was so very sweet of you.”

The hidden smile revealed itself, even in spite of the monotone. “Anything for you, Miss.” The expression wasn’t long to stay as Whumpee felt once again, daggers being glared into the side of his head for several moments before Whumper snapped out of it. “Would you like me to put on its collar and its leash for you, Miss?”

[venomroses]

thinking about disability in the zones. like yeah yeah everyone's heard the "fun ghoul has adhd" headcanons which of course are all well and good but like. there are two things ive been thinking about specifically that i rarely see in danger days content that i think would be fairly common:

one. vision problems. think of how many people you know who wear glasses/contacts. think of how many more strangers you see on the street who are wearing glasses. there's a lot of people! and even if you leave the city with your glasses, lots of people need new prescriptions every few years. my glasses from even only 2 or 3 years ago are absolutely unusable for me because my vision has changed that much. and i doubt even if you do manage to find some random pair of glasses you'll want them- wearing a prescription thats too weak or too strong is uncomfortable as hell and really isn't that much of an improvement. even if you stick with it long enough for it to be tolerable it strains your eyes horribly. when i was little i would need new glasses before my family's insurance would cover it for us and i'd have eye strain headaches several nights a week for months until i could get new ones. a lot of things in the zones are set up to be low vision accessible

two. amputees. and not "they're an amputee but they have an android body part that works exactly like their natural body part so its fine". i don't have any personal experience with this the way i do with glasses but think about how common amputation was as a means of fixing a serious and/or infected wound before modern medicine. if you don't know it was pretty common especially during wars like the american civil war because infections were hard to prevent (if water was scarce and you couldnt wash your hands/tools/etc, if the disinfectants you had weren't effective enough, etc) and harder to treat (before antibiotics, again if you're unable to keep things clean, etc), wounds could be hard to treat especially if supplies were limited/there were lots of injuries to tend to, etc. there are shortages of all sorts of supplies in the zones but there's no shortage of weapons and it's easier to just cut an infected/injuried limb off than it is to spend tons of time and carbons searching for what you need (if you even know what you need, not everyone is a well-trained medic) while your crewmate is dying. most killjoys have met at least one amputee before. i've talked a little before about how i think a lot of killjoys would travel on foot because of how much work it is to maintain a car so a lot of people who own cars or motorbikes are lower limb amputees who can't walk long distances (because even a well fitted prosthetic irl can be uncomfortable for long distances or in general, so i can't imagine one handmade in the zones would be much more comfortable. and thats if you even have a prosthetic at all)

[masterofrecords]

NRC basketball team roster

(As depicted in my fic, Aquarium)

Okay, first of all, I'm really glad I planned for this chapter to take at least 2 weeks from the start, because yesterday I managed to fuck up my knee a little, so my mental energy goes to worrying about it and my physical energy goes towards stretching and working my knee to make sure the bones don't again try to misalign themselves and the joint remains decently pain-free. Definitely didn't need the added stress of "damn, I should be writing", haha.

Anyway, this list has tiny little spoilers, most of which likely won't become apparent until the chapter is published, but I'm warning you just in case.

---

Nima - (unofficial) coach, former center

Savanaclaw, junior. In his last proper year at school he took over the coaching position (because who else is going to do that, Vargas? No thank you). Has a little too much energy and enthusiasm and not enough understanding of the limits of a normal human body. Hopes for Jamil to take over the coach role next year.

3 - Egil - shooting guard

Pomefiore, sophomore. Despite different positions, Gideon's unofficial protege. Everyone is quite unsure if there's something going on between them or if Pomefiore is just Like That. Depending on team composition sometimes plays as a forward, but is not very comfortable in any playmaking role, prefers to defer tactical decisions to others.

5 - Jamil - point guard

Scarabia, sophomore. While versatile about the position he plays in, prefers to stay to the back line to direct his team's play and make long shots from behind the three-pointer line. One of the highest-scoring members of the team.

10 - Floyd - center

Octavinelle, sophomore. Dunk shots are his bread and butter, but he surprisingly enjoys the defense, too - especially when it allows him to bully other players under the basket. In official matches tends to get removed from the court for rule violations way before the end of the game, which annoys him to no end.

11 - Ace - shooting guard

Heartslabyul, freshman. Pretty good at most technical things and able to play a variety of positions, but tends to be impulsive and make rash decisions that lead to mistakes. Has a special talent for provoking the opposing team to foul on him.

13 - Bertram - point guard

Diasomnia, freshman. A bird beastman of generally quiet disposition, though allows himself to express himself more on the court. Tends to be in a (mostly) friendly competition with Ace as a fellow freshman.

17 - Gideon - center/power forward

Pomefiore, junior. The second half of the "rituals are intricate" Pomefiore duo. Tall but lanky, prefers playing forward but often has to sub in for Floyd as center if Floyd breaks the rules too many times.

18 - Mosi - shooting guard

Savanaclaw, junior. In his freshman year he didn't make it into the spelldrive club, and might be still a little bitter about it, but mostly is determined to prove his worth as a basketball player. Has a temper problem on par with Floyd - sometimes they cancel each other out, sometimes the opposite.

22 - Ludwig - small forward

Octavinelle, junior. One of the more versatile players on the team, though he's mainly been playing as forward since his sophomore year when he bulked up. Unlike many others, finds strategy and tactics discussions at practice fascinating.

25 - Ryder - small forward

Scarabia, junior. Compensates for his short stature with almost unnatural speed and jump height. Has been having some problems with discipline and being a team player for the last several months - actually, since winter break. Wonder why that might be.

31 - Jay - power forward

Savanaclaw, sophomore. Accident prone. Didn't train for several months of his freshman year due to a concussion sustained during History class, refuses to elaborate on the details.

[symmetricalkazekage]

Okay!! I'm finally done. My late entry for March's All 4 1 TMNT Challenge (late by my timezone since it's April 1 already).

See, after reading @m1dnyt3-w0lf 's entry (read here), and fucking sobbed, I could not sit by and let our poor Red banded bara suffer. So I told her I'd write a part 2 to hers, to give us some closure. I'm sorry if it makes zero sense, I wanted to get something out before time was up.

So without further ado, here is that part 2!!

⚠️MENTIONS OF UNALIVE AND BODILY HARM. PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION⚠️

It had been several months now since Raphael had his heart stomped on. Ever since then, he had been on a warpath, throwing himself into his patrols and duties; he needed the distraction from Y/N, keep her off his mind. While Leo was taking pride in seeing Raph finally take their job seriously, Donatello could tell he was only doing it as an ulterior motive. However, every time he was asked if he were okay, Raph would always brush it off saying he’s fine; he would avoid any and all confrontation if Y/N’s name was mentioned. He wanted to forget, he wanted out.

However, it was hard. Try as he might, his heart had the tendency to remind him of the agreement, and it would be the most painful reminder. Most of his nights were spent in that secret part of New York’s under belly, pounding out his anger and heartache into the old tiles and concrete, before collapsing to his knees. He fought his tears, but they still fell; and every now and then, if New York was quiet enough, you’d be able to hear the scream of someone who’s heart was breaking into tiny pieces. His pain was becoming unbearable, and his thoughts began to get the better of him.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Raphael stood atop a tall building somewhere in lower Manhattan, the breeze whipping the tails of his skullcap violently around his face. He was staring out into the streets, but he wasn’t seeing anything; or well, he couldn’t see anything. He was horribly drunk, swaying gently on the ledge. How long had it been now, a year? A whole year since that day, and he had reached his limit. Y/N hadn’t even tried to reach out and properly explain, he knew she didn’t have to, but it would’ve been nice. Just to ease his aching heart, even just a little. But she hadn’t. he tried to follow her, tried to leave little clues that he wanted to talk to her, but they had gone unnoticed. He tried texting, calling, something; nothing, it had all lead to nothing.

The familiar notification sound came from his communicator; his brothers. They had been trying to contact him. Assuming they had found his GPS tracker somewhere back in the lair, but he didn’t want to be found. Eventually, he turned it off, and took a deep breath. Then he felt it; all his pain and anguish, all the suffering, it hit him like a train. He didn’t stop the tears as they fell, he didn’t try to hold back the sob that escaped his throat, he didn’t try to stop the shaking that had overtaken his body. He swayed, and then, he fell.

It was as if time began to slow around him as he fell. He closed his eyes, and the flashes of his life burned into his mind. His childhood, his brothers, Master Splinter, April, defeating Shredder, Casey, defeating the Kraang; everything flashed through, including his agreement. This was it, he was ready to die, to end his own suffering.

“Shit! Are you okay?!”

Raph opened his eyes, he had reached the bottom. A giant pile of garbage bags and boxes had softened his attempt; he felt a stinging in his right arm and his side. He closed his eyes, he didn’t need to look to know that he was bleeding. He was hoping, if he lay there long enough, he might bleed out. He felt taps to his cheek, he had to open his eyes again. Who was this person, and why wouldn’t they leave him alone?

“Hey wake up!” the voice yelled, from the pitch, he figured it was a woman.

He batted her hands away. “Leave me…”

“Okay, we’ve got the biggest gash I’ve seen on your arm and side. I can’t put pressure on both, you’re gonna have to do that part.”

She had shoved some sort of cloth into his hand and practically forced him to keep pressure as he felt her wrap his arm up in something else. His vision was still blurred with tears, and he no longer felt the alcohol in him. He blamed his uberfast metabolism on the fact that he is a mutant with science bullshit that fixes itself. He was half listening to the unknown woman rambling about he she really should have paid more attention in her first aid class on how to tie a tunicate. He really didn’t want to have to deal with someone, so he mustered whatever strength he could and pulled himself from the trash, pushing the young woman aside. Instantly, a sharp pain shot up his left leg; he might've twisted something when he landed. Nothing felt broken so that was good, but he still wanted to be alone so he tired to walk away.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” the woman asked, running and throwing her arms out to prevent him from going further.

“Away from you,” he spat, he didn’t like her tone. He tried to step around her to leave, but she just put her hands on his chest plates.

“Not like that you’re not, you’re pissing blood everywhere!” She yelled.

Now Raph was getting mad, why was this woman in his way, and why was she giving him attitude? When he tried to sidestep again, she just blocked his path again. He was starting to seethe with anger, he just wanted to disappear but this woman was making it very difficult to do that. Just as he was about to yet again try and sidestep, his left leg wobbled and he fell to his knees. He was frustrated now; his attempts failed, he was now injured, no longer feeling the effects of alcohol, and now he couldn’t even get away from this human. Y/N’s face flashed over his eyes once more, and he broke down. He began to sob as the tears left hot trails down his cheeks, his voice barely audible.

He furiously tried to wipe the tears as they fell, but they continued to soak the edges of his mask making it feel heavier on his head. He so desperately wanted to move now, the human was still standing there, watching him too closely for comfort. He had reached for her to try to push her away, but she dodged him easily and stepped forward. He was expecting a lecture from a random stranger, but what he got instead was a soft hug around his neck. The moment had made him freeze, he wasn’t expecting this; was she pitying him, cause he didn’t want that.

“I get it now,” she whispered. “Only the most broken of hearts could make someone do something so silly… I don’t know who did this to you, babe, but I’m so sorry you had to suffer under their hand like this.”

“It’s not you like ya could understand how I feel,” he whispered back harshly.

She laughed softly, “Perhaps,” he felt her arms tighten around him, “but right now, I’m not gonna let you go through this alone. So cry babe, cry and scream. Let it all out, I’ll be right here.”

Raph gritted his teeth as he tried to stop his body from trembling, “I don’t…”

“Shh, it’s okay, I won’t look,” she hushed.

It’s not like he could’ve kept up the walls even if he wanted to, he gripped onto her body with his uninjured arm and let everything out into her chest. His cries echoed of the alley walls, his tears began to soak through her shirt, and he clung to her like a lifeline he didn’t know he needed. In the back of his mind, he had expected her to push him off after a minute, but she stayed, shushing him softly and rubbing comforting circles into the base of his neck. A feeling he didn’t know would help so much.

He didn’t know how much time had passed, but he had finally calmed down, his body now gently trembling from the onslaught that was just wreaked upon his heart and soul. And the mystery woman hadn’t moved, she hadn’t even shifted; she still stood there, although her grip had loosened. Raph took a moment to take a deep breath before he tried to stand on shaky legs.

“Thanks,” he croaked, guess all that crying did a number on his throat too.

“I’m not done yet, darling,” she said, tugging on his arm gently. “You’re still injured, so I’m taking you home to patch you up. I’ have a pull-out futon you can crash on too.”

She began to pull Raph along with her as she went around a corner into another alley. He wanted to resist, but his feet followed.

“How do ya know I won’t try and run away,” he tried to joke.

She half laughed, half scoffed at his poor attempt, “You can honestly try, but I’m pretty sure you just expended any energy you just had.” She looked back at him with a smirk before tugging on his hand a bit firmer.

After a minute, they walked up to a large gate with a padlock. She pulled out a key from her pocket and unlocked it with one hand. She pulled him into… a car elevator? She shut the gate and relocked the gate, pocketing the key before pushing a big green button on a panel. The rickety old thing began to move up slowly, going passed two floors before coming to a stop. She opened a second gate and pulled out, making sure she shut the gate behind her.

Raph looked around the space. He was no Donnie, but he guessed that this was a warehouse floor, but it had been renovated into a home, or it was getting there. Room dividers were everywhere, some in the shape of a square with a soft pink light flooding out from over the edges. He let himself be pulled to the pull-out and sat down; he watched the woman disappear into the kitchen behind the counter, then re-emerge with a big green box. She walked back over, and he noticed the box said ‘For Ouchies’ and covered in unicorn and car stickers. She set the box down quietly before opening it and pulling out a bunch of things; he watched her hands set out and organize everything before he remembered something.

“The name’s, Raphael, but everyone calls me Raph,” he muttered quietly, feeling if he spoke any louder he would disturb the silence.

“Lahni,” she smiled at him as she soaked a cloth with an orange liquid before going to clean his arm.

Raph winced slightly as he watched her work, by this point he had stopped bleeding, she was just cleaning dried blood and whatnot. He was always a fast healer, but that didn’t stop him from getting injured a lot more than he wanted. She patched his arm quickly before grabbing a clean cloth and moving to his side, she placed it on the gash and let the liquid soak and seep into the wound before gently swiping it away.

Raph watched Lahni whisper to herself before he turned to stare at the coffee table in front of him. He saw a photo laying face down, and he got curious. He reached for it, and what he saw made him tense solid. In the picture was Lahni… and Y/N. Raph felt his blood boil and bubble up, turning his now steel gaze to the woman hard at work.

“Who’s this…?” he asked in a hard voice. Raph watched her look up, watching her face also turn hard before going back to work.

“My evil sister…” she said coldy.

“Sister?!”

“Hush, child.”

“Explain.”

Lahni placed the last piece of tape over the gauze before standing. “She’s my sister, who cares. I don’t talk to her anymore.”

Raph’s looked faltered.

“What happened…”

“I went to lunch with her, and she was going on and on about this agreement she had with someone.” Lahni sat angrily on the edge of the table and crossed her arms. “This person apparently had no idea about sex or what to do, he asked her for her help. I told her it was a bad idea.”

“Why’d ya say that?” Raph asked.

“Come on, did she really think someone who hadn’t had sex before wouldn’t become attached or even develop any feelings? She’s such an idiot!” Lahni got up and started pacing. “What did she think was gonna happen?! He would be totally okay when she called it off? Ugh! What a fucking idiot!”

Raph watched as Lahni got herself worked up. If she knew that person was him, she would probably instantly change her mind; he was a mutant after all. He continued to listen to her get angry.

“At lunch, she laughed and started belittling him. Saying that he should’ve known better, but she didn’t make any boundaries, or keep things clear! SHE should’ve known better!! You can’t just do that to someone!!”

Raph went to calm her, but the sound of small taps made him freeze.

“Mama?”

They both turned, Raph immediately began shitting bricks. Standing next to where the pink light was coming from was a smaller version of Lahni. She was wearing what he picked as her mom’s shirt, holding a stuffed samurai rabbit rubbing her eyes.

“Ah shit, come here baby,’ Lahni coaxed.

The little girl wandered over, stopping when she saw Raph. He panicked as he picked up a cushion and tried shielding himself from her eyes. She stared at him, but then her eyes got big and she ran up to him.

“Mama! He has ouchies!” she squealed as she stared at the bandages.

Lahni laughed, before sitting back down on the table. “He does, but don’t worry,” she looked up to Raph and smiled, “I fixed him.”

The little girl stared before she climbed up onto the pull-out with him, she handed the rabbit to him and kissed both his injuries. Now, if he could blush, he would be red all over. Lahni laughed hard at his face as he watched the little girl stand up, getting right into his face.

“Don’t worry Mister. My mommy is the best fixer upper. And I have magic kisses, so you’ll be better in zero time.”

She had said it in the most serious tone ever, and Raph was taken aback quite a bit. He looked to Lahni for help, but the woman just kept laughing.

“Miwa, are you gonna introduce yourself?”

The little girl practically shoved her hand into his face, “I’m Miwa, and I’m dis many numbers!” he watched as she tried to hold up three fingers but was coming out as four.

Raph chuckled, before taking her tiny hand and shaking it gently. That night went on with childish stories and giggles, until eventually Miwa fell back to sleep. Every time Lahni tried to move her, Miwa protested, saying she wanted to stay with her new friend. It got to a point where they both gave up, so Lahni grabbed extra pillows and blankets and set up the pull-out for the three of them.

And that was the first night that Raphael had slept without any nightmares.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A whole year had gone by after that night, a lot had happened. Raph was babysitting Miwa for Lahni while she ducked out to the store, when she had an unexpected and unwanted guest arrive. Y/N. She had walked in expecting to see her sister, but instead found Raph. He had frozen, he didn’t know what to do. But Miwa had stood in front of him telling Y/N to leave, they didn’t want to see her.

Y/N tried and tried to convince her it wasnt nice to talk to her aunty like that, getting closer and closer. He watched her try to reach for Miwa, and something came over him. He grabbed Miwa and pulled her into a protective embrace, and he growled defensively. Y/N tried to explain herself, but she ran out time when Lahni returned.

A screaming war began, Raph turning and covering Miwa’s ears as she huddled close to his chest plates. Y/N left, and Raph finally told her everything. Lahni knew all along, she had figured it out quite early, he always avoided her family pictures that had Y/N in them. But, she didnt want him to relive all the bad memories so she didn’t mention it.

That night, Raphael sat on the couch. It was a more comfortable one he had picked up with his brothers help. After he had explained to them everything that had happened with Y/N, when Lahni found him and even Miwa. He had gotten the lecture of a lifetime from Leo and Splinter, but they were just happy that he was doing okay now. Reiterating that he could rely on them for anything he needed.

However, during his time spent with Lahni and Miwa, his heart decided it’d play matchmaker. Anytime Lahni was close, his heart would skip beats and he’d flush. Any moment spent with Miwa, he’d get this urge to protect by any means. Donnie had said that he’d imprinted on her, if that was even possible in a turtle. Raph didn’t want his heart broken again, but he was willing to take this chance.

Lahni was sitting next to him as they watched TV, Miwa asleep on his lap curled into a ball with her rabbit. Mustering up his courage, Raph put his arm around Lahni and pulled her close to his side; his arm slipping down her back to her waist, effectively pulling her even closer. He had expected her to flinch or stiffen, but she relaxed into him and leant her head on his shoulder.

She scoffed. “Took you long enough.”

Raph chuckled. “Keep you waiting long, then?”

“A little. But I wanted it on your terms.”

Raph smiled. “Hey I wanted to ask you something...”

She turned to him, “What’s up, hun?”

He sighed, “I know, it hasn’t been long... a year isn’t a lot of time... but I really like you...” he looked away from her eyes. “And... I was wondering... if you’d let me, be a part of your family...”

Raph heard Lahni gasp, he panicked so he continued. “I can’t really see myself without you now, you’ve made an impact on me...” he looked down at the little girl in his lap “and so has Miwa. And I wanted to know... if it’d be too much to ask ya...”

He hesitated, but her hand on his knee made him finish in a rush. “IWASWONDERINGIFYOU’DLETMEBEMIWA’SDAD!”

He squeezed his eyes shut, expecting her to reject him. But his eyes shot open when he felt Lahni kiss his knuckles.

“You know, I’d been thinking the same thing. But I wanted you to make that decision first, babe.”

Raphael’s smile couldn’t grow any wider as he pulled Lahni into a feverish but loving kiss, which she returned with just as much love.

When they broke, he laughed out of breath.

“I’m new to all this though... can you show me where to start?”

Lahni smiled at him. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Tags: @turtle-babe83 @thelaundrybitch @red-phoenixxx @post-apocalyptic-daydream @dilucsflame33 @leosgirl82 @tmnt-tychou anybody else that I cant remember!!

[skellymom]

"Slide"

Bad Batch x Non-Gendered Character - ONE SHOT

This is my FIRST fan fic. Working on a much longer series fic with an OC that will drop...when it’s done. Criticism is welcome AS LONG AS IT’S KIND AND CONSTRUCTIVE. PLEASE feel free to contact me! I really want to hear feedback. Also, open to questions. All my work will be 18+ just because of my nasty mouth, nasty mind, and inappropriate dark humor. REMINDER: Please REBLOG if you like what you read! Thanks!!!  

Summary: Action, Jedi learns to grow Force powers. This timeline is several months after leaving Crosshair on Kamino, near the end of working for Cid. The Batch is trying to figure a hook to be independent and possibly start actively rebelling against the Empire. This is set well before Mt Tantiss. 

Content and Warnings: Canon and non-canon violence, swearing, momentary and possibly gruesome death of main characters (no worries, they don’t stay dead forever), Crosshair is an angry psychopathic killer with a vengeance (no hate, I love his problematic ass), mild Hunter fluff, touchy concerned Tech, Echo swears. 

Word count:  2.1 K

**********************************************************************

You hadn’t expected to be separated from the rest of the Batch, however, Omega had other ideas “to help” on this mission. The Batch infiltrated this Imperial base for intel and possible chain codes to steal. You volunteered to run after and bring her back.  Spotted by Imperial stormtroopers in a corridor, you and Omega try to lose them, but they are hot on your tail. Omega hears the Batch’s voices down a hallway and runs to them. 

You and Omega skid to a halt at the edge of a missing bridge while the rest of the Batchers are on the other side.  The precipice between is a several hundred story drop within the Imperial base. The group of stormtroopers rocked up behind you, guns lowered.  Hunter, Tech, and Wrecker looked on impotently across the chasm, weapons trained on the stormtroopers.  The Batch are poised, holding fire, trying to avoid any possibility of you and Omega getting caught in any crossfire. 

Unfortunately, you had not finished training with your Master. Your Master did not survive Order 66. You were SO CLOSE to obtaining Jedi status.  Now it was up to YOU to save yourself and Omega.  Being captured was not an option at this point.  Although, allowing the Empire to take you and Omega might allow time for the Batch to retreat safely to fight later.  That carried serious risks.  You were very limited in options as far as your Force abilities.  Master had not given you a light saber, remarking that the Force had a different path for you. 

The lead stormtrooper immediately grabbed you as a human shield, just as Wrecker let loose a shot from his blaster.  He intended to shoot the stormtrooper but hit you in the chest.  You slipped out of the stormtroopers grasp and off the edge of the bridge. You met Omega’s eyes as she called your name, while being dragged away by the same trooper.  As your body went into free fall down the chasm, you could hear your Batchmates scream, curse, and start blasting away.  

As consciousness slips from your body, you close your eyes.  The sense of falling disappears, but you expected that by eventually reaching terminal velocity from this height.  You open your eyes and are standing on an outstretched infinite path within an ever-expanding universe.  Before you is a HUGE hulking creature with glowing eyes. 

“What’s happening?  Where am I?”  You are simultaneously shocked, afraid, and unsure if this is all a dream. 

The creature stares down, sizing you up. 

“ In The World Between Worlds.” 

“Am I dead???” 

“No. It is not yet your time.  You are here to finish your training.” 

“My friends need my help!  I need to get back to them!!!” 

“You will return to help them; it is part of your training.” 

“Who are you?” 

“That matters not.  Only your path is of importance.  You cannot progress until your training is finished.  The lives within your care hang in the balance.  You and your group are linked together in that realm.  Your failure will be their failure...until you succeed.  Then you will be released from this realm to continue your path.” 

It feels like the creature is staring into your soul, “The point of entry is behind you.” 

You turn around to see...a doorway?  A dark threshold surrounded by cryptic symbols, suspended among stars.  

“Are you ready?” 

“No! I...” 

“Begin!” 

Your vision becomes a blur as you leave that place and return to where you were standing before falling off the platform.  The vertigo messes with your senses, and it all feels like you had a momentary hallucination.  Now back in this moment, you quickly spring into action. 

You yell “NO WRECKER” immediately and Wrecker stops in his tracks.  Hunter is sensing something, but unsure what it is.  The Stormtrooper grabs you as a shield.  A second trooper grabs Omega and drags her away.  Omega starts using swears that only Echo could come up with as she is taken.  The Batch stand with blasters trained on the stormtroopers in defense but not wanting to hit you in the crossfire.  The trooper violently puts a foot in your ass and kicks you off the platform, then commences to start firing on the Batch.  You free fall down the chasm and... 

...pass The World Between Worlds for a split second, and then appear back onto the platform.   

You try again. 

Omega is led away swearing up a storm while the stormtrooper is holding onto you.  Hunter calls to you, and in that moment, you sense the concern and love in his heart.  You also sense a dark presence in the Force, look up to the platform above and see Crosshair with his Firepuncher trained on you.  He was watching this exchange the whole time, waiting for the opportunity to shoot.  In his jealousy and anger, he fires, hitting you dead center between the eyes.  The very last thing you see is Cross grinning as he hears Hunter lose his shit. 

The fabric of the connected realms brushes past you. 

Again. 

You yank the stormtrooper into Crosshairs blaster bolt as his body is hit, he stumbles into Omega and both fall off the platform to their impending deaths.  The stormtrooper behind him, seeing the target they were looking to take is now gone, opens fire on you.  You fall off the platform. 

Again. 

Before the trooper can grab you, you grab Omega and jump off the platform into the chasm.  With any luck, you can use the force to stop yourselves before hitting bottom.  Unfortunately, you and Omega’s fall velocity was too much for your Force abilities.   

Again. 

You grab Omega but try to save only her.  As you fall past hundreds of platforms, you try to yeet her onto one as you fall.  You are falling too fast, and your throw was severely off.  You hear a sickening thud as she hits something. 

Again. 

You attempt to Force jump, and only make it just short of the other side.  You yeet Omega across the chasm towards the Batch, Hunter jumps for her from the other side, and she slips from his grasp.  You hear them both scream above you as you fall.  Fortunately, Tech and Wrecker send out their grappling cables and catch both.  Blaster fire starts from the stormtroopers.  Tech is hit, falls off the platform, and takes Omega with him since she is attached to his cable.   

Again. 

You Force jump again, Hunter jumps but misses Omega.  Knowing Wrecker will catch Hunter with his grappling hook, you send out a Force block in front of Tech. He is shielded from blaster fire, but Wrecker is hit by several bolts.  He falls off the platform taking Hunter with him.  You hear Wrecker's insanely terrified scream as you all fall.  Hunter sends out his grappling cable and it catches.  His fall is stopped, but Wrecker’s weight wrenches Hunters body horribly.  He screams out in agony as he feels muscles tear.  They are hanging and safe momentarily...or so it seems.  A shot is heard from Firepuncher and Hunters cable is severed.  Both Batchers scream as they fall. 

You try to hold onto the edges of the realm as you pass through, but it evades your grasp. 

Again. 

You grab the lead stormtroopers gun while he is still holding onto it and keep pushing his finger onto the trigger, you shoot him and several other imps.  You fire several shots towards Crosshair, preventing him from shooting at you.  However, one hotshot trooper in the back squeezes off and hits you right in the back fatally.  

Again.   

Same scenario, but you spin the trooper around and use him as a human shield and the hotshot misses you.  However, Crosshair blasts you at the base of your skull.  The last thing you see is Omega’s terrified expression as you fall onto the platform next to your teeth his shot loosened in the blast. 

AGAIN?

You are getting sick of playing this fucked up reset game already.  In your anger, you quickly grab the stormtrooper and throw his ass off the platform.  The Batch and Omega watch shocked at your anger.  The other stormtroopers are taken by surprise, as you advance on them and grab another.  Crosshair is attempting to aim, but you are moving too much. The hotshot trooper aims his weapon. You and the trooper in your grasp struggle violently. The hotshot cannot get a good clear shot.  Finally, he squeezes one off and misses you. However, he didn’t consider where Omega is standing, and she takes a direct hit. You hear your Batchmates scream in outrage. You scream in outrage. The hotshot screams in frustration, then double taps you and the trooper in your grasp in the head simultaneously. 

AGAIN??

You grab the stormtroopers gun while still in his hand and shoot yourself in the head.  You just want this exhausting mess to be over. 

AGAIN???

You fall onto the platform in a crumpled pile crying.  Stormtroopers AND Crosshair shoot you at the same time, resulting in a horrible, charred mess. 

AGAIN???

You scream bloody murder and obscenities at Crosshair.  He shoots you between the eyes. 

AGAIN! 

You jump off the edge of the platform screaming obscenities like a crazy person. 

Before reset, you see the expression on the creatures face.  He looks disappointed and replies, “You aren’t even trying.  Reach out beyond the boundaries of your realm” As you angrily try to spout off to him, you are thrown violently into the next reset. 

AGAIN!!!

Standing on the platform, you take a deep breath and survey the scene.  You mull over the creatures words.  Time seems to slow down: You sense the stormtroopers behind you, looking into each of eyes of the Batch; Hunter, Tech, Wrecker, up to Crosshair, finally resting on Omega.  You mouth, “Trust me” to her and she nods. 

Time suddenly slams into overdrive, and you instantly pivot to bearhug Omega.  The trooper misses your shoulder and grabs open air.  The shot from Crosshair’s Firepuncher, originally meant for you, hits the trooper right between the eyes and he falls off the platform.  You reach deep within the Force, grab the thin tether of this realm and open it wide.  You then realize you were only meant to grasp it at the start of your actions, not at the end.  You “push” through with the Force, taking Omega with you.  As you “slide” from one location to another, you pass the creature.  He nods as you pass from the world you left only a millisecond ago, through the timeless World Between Worlds. 

“Congratulations, Jedi!  Your training is complete.” 

You part the curtain to your world again, entering behind the Batch.  Hunter, before his eyes even register your disappearance on the opposite platform, senses a presence behind them.  His head whips around to see you and Omega are now out of harm's way.  His jaw drops inside his helmet.  Tech, seeing Hunters reaction, immediately spins around, his eyes are visibly dumbfounded “What?  How?”  Wrecker calmly looks behind him, seeing you and Omega there safely, doesn’t question.  He barks, “MUAHAHAHA!  YEAH!!!” and opens fire on all the befuddled stormtroopers standing on the opposite platform.   

With Wreckers cover fire, Hunter grabs Omega and runs down the hallway while yelling, “Let’s go!”  Tech runs past and grabs your hand.  He’s usually not touchy feely, but somewhere deep in his logical brain he understands that whatever happened saved your and Omega’s life.  All the quick calculations he was running in his brain logically ended in you both dying.  Wrecker is happily hopped up on blaster fire and the relief you are both safe.  He follows running behind. 

Crosshair is left on his sniper's roost.  He hasn’t EVER missed a target.  This was his first time. You were there one second and gone next to his surprise.  Stares down at all the dead troopers laying on the platform below, gnawing hard on his toothpick.  He’s angry...but intrigued.  Maybe instead of killing you outright next time, he can land a stunning blow.  The Empire might be VERY interested if he brought you in alive.  Cross sprints away down a shortcut. 

Your group reaches the end of the hallway and bursts out into the ship hangar bay.  A large battalion of stormtroopers meet you there, with guns aimed.  You all stop, out of breath, and possibly out of luck.  Echo swoops in with the Marauder hovering and laying down suppressive cannon fire.  Unfortunately, there are too many imps for him to dispatch while also landing successfully.  Hunter and Tech are furiously looking for a way out.   

You reach out with the Force and envelope Hunter, Tech, Wrecker, and Omega.  Before opening the fabric of this realm, you feel eyes on you.  Looking to a ledge several stories up, Crosshair meets your gaze.  You both stare intensely into each other.  Without even realizing it, you reach out and speak with the Force: 

“Why???” 

“Because...” Slight shock registering on Crosshair’s face “...I can.” 

“You’ll regret this someday...when you’re all alone.” 

“I already am.”  He’s angry and hurt.  There is nothing more you can say. 

You slide through, taking all the Batchers with you and suddenly appearing within the Marauder.   

Wrecker: “WHOA!” 

Tech: Speechless, wide eyed...and STILL holding your hand. 

Omega: Dizzy and winded. 

Hunter: Rips helmet off his head. His expression is wild eyed and looks like he saw some serious shit.  "What was that place? Who was that creature?” 

Echo:  Spins around in the pilot’s chair, eyes wide “WHAT THE FUCK!!!” 

You grin.  And watch the Batch trying to piece together their sudden location movement and glimpse of the creature between worlds. 

Giving the order to Echo you bark, “Let’s go, soldier!” 

He’s still sitting there with a shocked expression, then laser blasts pepper the ship, and he regains composure.  Echo flies the Marauder out of the Imperial facility, off the planet, scrambles the ships jump signature, and punches it into hyperspace. 

************************************************************************

Should I pursue certain plot points further and make this MORE than a one shot? What develops with Crosshair? Tech's hand holding awakening? Why was Hunter the only one to actually see the creature? Or whatever else you might want to explore? PLEASE message me or leave a comment! AND, PLEASE REBLOG! Thanks!!!

[llycaons]

came to the conclusion as I have several times before that I am simply not cut out for my job. I am bad at it, slow and a poor communicator and passive and easily overwhelmed. they said it would take about a year (from hiring? or from being on my own? either way) but whatever makes people slip into the flow and anticipate needs and Know The Supplies, maybe I would have gotten it had I gotten the normal training. maybe I wouldn't have. its easy to say 'oh I'm struggling because I'm in a unique situation' and maybe that's true, but I had trouble long before we got the Unique Training part, and then since the training was so different I had trouble with that, to the exasperation of my trainers and co-workers. and it really didn't feel good every day to know you're not living up the expectations and standards of the people around you, to know without a doubt they're all smarter and more adaptable and quicker-thinking than you.

I'm doing okay now since I'm one of the very few people on my unit and they desperately need me, and leadership is covering for my inadequacies by sending me to do easy stuff when I need to get floated, but like...there are team members who are extremely hostile to me and its for good reason! and it makes it worse to know THEY'RE not the ones in the wrong. maybe they could be nicer, but if I truly had confidence in myself, it wouldn't bother me so much.

but I don't know what to do. there is no other job I can do with these qualifications and skills, and no way to leave this city until late next year. and I need this income. I'm going to limp along until I can safely extract myself, but until then, we'll all have to bear it. and it's a terrible thing, to know you're a burden on your team and that you're only here because everyone else has quit. if I thought I would ever actually put someone in danger, I'd of course leave immediately. but I'm doing relatively straightforward cases with very qualified people all around me, and I know the basics to keep people safe at least

I find myself thinking about my strongest critic, who quit a few months ago, and how much my failure to adapt may have led to that decision. maybe it's self-centered; there were many issues far before I came along. and they haven't spoken to even their closest friend here in months, so I think they probably resent this place a lot and want to leave it all behind, and I don't blame them

things have gotten so much better recently because of those staff members quitting and my manager waking up to realize she has to actually support us, and I don't dread going to work anymore, even to float. tho we haven't been canceled in ages 😔 I don't know, I think the true issue is that I just need more predictability and stability in the things I do on a day to day basis. I learn slowly, and I have trouble remembering things. ideally I would find a job where we do a limited type of low-acuity cases every day but still....pays as well? I don't know, I don't know. give this another year then I'm sure everyone will be happy to see my back.

it's difficult to see yourself as incompetent, disliked, and unwanted in your job, and not have that bleed over into your personal feelings about yourself. it's really hard. I think of my failures and the anger, contempt, and aggression that came to me as a result, and it really makes me nervous. we're doing cases in another part of the hospital soon, with different people. it was such a mess last time! why was I so overwhelmed?

it's frustrating. I know I can do some of these cases - even difficult ones like livers and kidneys- and do them perfectly competently. I'm fine in any belly case. I even enjoyed neuro. I just freeze up when I don't have confidence. I don't know what to do all the time! and I need to be in a situation where I do. I don't know how much work I can even do on my end to Not Be Like This. studying didn't seem to help, and I can't study from the internet anyway since every place does things differently.

I've always thought I'd either leave here and then go back home, or stay exactly in place, but I could still stay a year and then just get another job in the same place.

I've always wanted to get higher certification, but knowing the people around me are way more competent without having that, it feels like a joke. a slap in the face. I dont have anything neat to wrap this up with it's just. I've always been so good at school and so proud of that even when I don't have much else to lean on. so this feels really bad. I should contact my EAP counselor today

[garaksapprentice]

Review: the Daedalus Falcon e-spinner

Originally posted on my blog: https://garaksapprentice.blogspot.com/2023/09/review-daedalus-falcon-e-spinner.html

(There's a ton of photos in this one and much as I love you all, I cannot brain moving them all over here. So if you want all the pics, please check the blog.)

I confess, this is a departure from my usual "let's do things with the least amount of money we can get away with" style. In my defence, I strive to be frugal rather than cheap. I don't mind spending the money to get a good quality, durable product, if it's something I know will get a lot of use. An e-spinner definitely fits that category for me, for several reasons.

One, I fall well on the frog hair end of the spinning spectrum, something most traditional wheels just aren't designed to accommodate. I actually found it faster (and easier on my legs) to use a spindle for the kinds of fine, high-twist yarns I prefer to spin. But, there are limits to how fine I can comfortably go on a spindle - anything past about 50 WPI and I have to concentrate just on the spinning. Not good when you typically use a spindle on the go.

Two, I have a lingering knee injury that doesn't like the treadle action of most spinning wheels (something I find hilariously frustrating given I ride a cargo bike anywhere I can't take the train).

Three, I spin mostly to weave. Much as I love spinning, I like it to end eventually so I can move onto the weaving part of the equation.

After three straight months of research, the Daedalus Falcon came out as the hands-down winner for my goals of speed, fine yarn, and product durability.

Why Daedalus?

Daedalus manufacture high-end e-spinners and spinning accessories. All their products are designed to need little to no maintenance, and to last 20+ years - they're seriously well put together.

They make five different e-spinners to suit just about any spinning preference, from super bulky art yarn to ultra fine frog hair. The Falcon is specifically designed for production spinning of fine yarns - it can reach speeds of 4,200 RPM, over twice what I could get from my Ashford Traditional wheel.

Ordering

I'll be honest, I spent a long time thinking about which model, and whether to order a Daedalus at all. These beauties are high-performance machines built to last. But, that means they come with the price tag of a high-performance machine. Plus currency exchange. Plus postage. (Yikes.) In all, I spent just under AU$2,000 on my Falcon set-up (I ordered three extra bobbins at US$90 and some yarn control cards for US$24).

At the time I ordered (November 2022), there was an estimated wait time of 12 months or more. Luckily for me, if not my bank account, Daedalus expanded their production capacity over the 2022 Christmas break. I reached the front of the Falcon queue in June 2023 (seven months from sign-up). At the time of writing (September 2023) there is no queue for the Falcon, and the Daedalus team are working to banish their waitlists completely.

The package

My Falcon came party disassembled, cradled in bubble wrap. (I wasn't thinking about writing a review when I ordered it, so I didn't take pictures.) The flyer assembly was individually wrapped for transport, as were the speed controller, inverter, cables, and welcome pack/spares bag.

The inverter is a standard laptop style pack. It comes with a US-ended jug plug, but that's easy to change out for whatever your local plug end is. I dove into my box of spare cables and leads and had a compatible jug plug in less than two minutes. If you don't have a box of old computer cords lying around, what century did you time travel from plan ahead and buy a new one.

Importantly, the inverter outputs 15 volts! Make absolutely sure that you've got the right one when you go to spin! Most laptops nowadays run on 20 volts - you don't want to damage the motor by running it faster than it's designed for.

{pic on blog}

The extension cable for the speed controller, and the power end on the motor itself, is some non-standard end that I've never seen before. (It's probably very common among people who know things about electronics; I'm not one of them.) It's similar to USB-A connectors in that the ends are directional; if you don't get them the right way up, they won't connect. The cord itself has a protective, braided outer and feels very sturdy.

From top to bottom: the outside of both ends, the female end, and the male end.

The Instructions

The guidebook (also available as a PDF on their website) is beautifully designed, and clearly written. The parts diagrams are clearly photographed and labelled. I've found the instructions easy to follow, even with a scattered brain.

It includes:

getting started

fine tuning the tension

how to use the speed controller

a page of "handy tips"

how to change the bobbin

an RPM speed table

changing settings in the speed controller menu

maintenance

flat packing for travel

the Daedalus battery (purchased separately)

Daedalus' social media and contact details

The first page has a QR code that takes you directly to the Daedalus YouTube channel, where you can find videos on how to assemble and disassemble each model. My one quibble here is that the QR code takes you to the channel as a whole, rather than to the specific playlist for the model you bought. The videos themselves are short, to the point, and well shot with clear lighting and narration.

Also, the manual states that the speed controller has been limited to 50% max speed in the settings - mine wasn't. I've seen other folks on social media also say their controller wasn't speed limited for this model, so it's something to watch out for.

About that battery

Daedalus offer a battery bank that's designed to work with all their e-spinners (yay!). Unfortunately, due to issues with postage, they don't mail them outside the continental US (boo!).

While their website does say that they'll help you find a compatible battery that you can purchase in your country, this is complicated by the part where all their stuff runs on 15 volts. In Australia at least, 15v battery banks with a standard laptop cable input simply don't exist. I spent six weeks trying to find somewhere to buy a battery - I eventually gave up due to my brain frying any time I tried to look at listings.

While I'd like the option of a battery eventually (it would be much easier to set up in the back yard that way), for now I've made peace with needing to lug extension cords anywhere I want to spin.

Spinning Experience

So far I've only spun commercially prepared wools, so this won't be a thorough review of the Falcon's performance over a variety of fibres and preps. (I'll attempt that later, when I get the chance. And finer wool cards.)

Noise

It's quiet. Really quiet. At least two people at every guild meeting I've taken it to have commented on how quiet it is. Most of the noise comes from the flyer rotation, and considerably less from the motor. I'm quite sensitive to noise, especially higher pitches, so I was concerned about this. Luckily it hasn't been an issue. (If you're the sort of person who can hear electricity, it may bother you. I've lost that mysterious ability as I've aged, for the most part, so I can't say for sure.)

I have noticed that the noise changes/gets louder at speeds above about 70% - again, this is simply due to the fact that the flyer is turning at ~3,000+ RPM. At worst I have to turn the laptop up slightly to better hear the video I have playing. The breeze off the flyer sure helps with air circulation on a warm day, too.

Threading

The size of the hooks (loops, really) and the inner part of the orifice make threading a breeze. I do occasionally struggle with very fine, high twist threads, especially when I'm rethreading after a break. That's partly finding the right angle to hold the thread at so that it catches in the hook, and partly my fingers not always co-operating.This is the position I find works best for threading the orifice.

I wouldn't want to try it with a non-Daedalus orifice hook, though - there's quite a bend in the hook, and it's there for good reason. Luckily the Falcon body has magnets on it to always keep your hook nearby.

The magnets + hook combo is great for holding the end of the thread when you're not spinning, too. I just wrap it around the middle of the hook a few times and stick it back on the magnets.

Take-up and tensioning

The take-up is wonderfully light, and can be ridiculously fine-tuned to match what you're spinning. When take-up drops below an acceptable level (once or twice per layer of bobbin filling), a tiny adjustment (less than a quarter turn) is usually enough to get things back on track.

I've filled four part-bobbins so far (two I'm still working on, one I ran out of fibre), at ~65 WPI, 45 WPI, and ~85 WPI. On each empty bobbin, I started with the spring completely compressed and the cord just barely tight/without slack. It took a few minutes of trial and error with each fibre to dial in the correct tension, but once I did, it was basically hassle-free for each spinning session thereafter.

That being said - I found correct tensioning quite tricky to dial in at first, because the hook and dial had shifted on their arms during shipping. If you put your wheel in something to travel with and find the tension is all screwy next time you go to spin, that's something to look at.

This circumstance isn't covered in the guide book, so it took me a while to work out why my "maximum tension" on the dial still wasn't enough to draw on the yarn I was spinning (it only became apparent about a third into the bobbin). Once I realised that the tension dial had rotated on the shaft in transport, I was able to reset it by simply rotating it back to a more vertical position.

{pic on blog}

This is an extreme example, but both the tension dial and the spring hook opposite it can rotate like this if you're not careful.

Starting/Stopping

At first I didn't think I'd need the foot pedal extension cord - surely I'd just be able to bop the controller on and off with my hand while I was spinning?

I was quickly disabused of this notion partway through my second bobbin. When things go wrong while spinning a 60 WPI single at 2,500 RPM, they go wrong fast. Being able to turn the Falcon off with my foot, while frantically trying to salvage whatever's gone wrong, is essential.

A really nice bonus to the foot pedal is that I'm not stuck in one position while spinning - I can sit, stand, rock from side to side, even crouch or kneel. I have back and shoulder problems and an old knee injury, so being able to freely change posture is a godsend for keeping my muscles happy.

And the soft stop/start - oh. my. Dog. I did not realise how much nicer my wheel spinning life could be. A soft stop is built in to spindle spinning by default, and I genuinely didn't realise how much I missed that on a wheel until I started spinning on the Falcon. I sing its praises whenever the thread breaks - the end stays loose and easy to find on top of the bobbin. No matter how gently I tried to stop my treadle wheel, more often than not the thread end would be buried somewhere in the hills and valleys on the bobbin, and there would be much swearing during retrieval.

Bobbin size

Daedalus advertises the Falcon bobbin as holding "two ounces (60 g) of 30 WPI singles". After plying a couple of bobbins of sock yarn with it, I would call this a conservative estimate. I managed to fit 70g of a 32 WPI, two-ply yarn on one bobbin - and it wasn't even well packed!

I've included a couple of in-progress bobbin shots, and what the singles on them currently measure/weight, below. None of them are even close to full, unfortunately - this is the order I spun them in, and right now I need to concentrate on the last one since it's due by December.

{pics on blog}

Sliver from Bendigo Woollen Mills. ~75 WPI, 31g. 19.5 micron merino top from Nundle Farms. ~82 WPI, 29g.  Handpainted 20 micron merino from Kathy's Fibres, ~82 WPI, 12g.

Final thoughts

This powerhouse is not for everyone. It's made for a specific purpose, and it fulfils that purpose beautifully. But it would probably suck at doing things it's not designed for.

While I'm sure you could spin 20 WPI or even 10 WPI singles with it, it won't do the job as well as an e-spinner designed for that. The other Daedalus offerings are worth a look, if you're not as into spinning frog hair as me.

But if you have a deep, abiding love for spinning lace-weight and finer yarns, this is an e-spinner worth looking at. Expensive though it was, it's one of the best fibre-related purchases I've made. (It easily beats the sewing machine and the overlocker combined.)

I'm definitely an outlier here - I have the not-at-all-typical goal of one day having a completely hand-spun, handwoven, and hand-sewn wardrobe. As such, production spinning is my jam - I want fine, high-twist yarns, that commercial mills simply can't replicate. And I want them as fast as my skills will let me go. With that in mind, the Falcon makes complete sense for my spinning goals.

Obligatory disclaimer: I'm not affiliated with Daedalus, and this post isn't sponsored (not that I'm against that, mind. This apprentice has to eat). All opinions are my own.