#mostly because i hate repeating myself

[muirneach]

wahhhh guys i have to rip out like two entire sections on my neckwarmer knitting wip and i was ALMOST DONE 😭😭😭 but its just too fucking talllllll :’( photos before i take it out for posterity. first off a little commotion as it slayssss outside of this error. clap and cheer. but anyways i was working on the final motif which are going to be hearts but i need to go back and take out that entire fourth repeat of leaves even tho i did as many as the pattern calls for!! its just so tall like if i keep going it will be like to my forehead when i finish. not ideal! sorry for the garish censoring but just so u get an idea of how tall it is on my face

[fingertipsmp3]

Deleted tiktok off my phone 🙌🏻 let’s hope it lasts

[augustinewrites]

does gojo ever freak out or worry ab reader when she’s alone on missions? obviously she can handle herself & knows what she’s doing, but he gives the vibes that he’d be internally panicking 😭

“hey, welcome back!” gojo grins, quickly shoving a half melted spatula to the bottom of the trash can. 

“hi,” you murmur, tipping the bill of your cap down as you close the door behind you. odd. he doesn’t think he’s seen you wear a hat before. 

“how was it?” he asks, flicking off the stove and closing in to welcome you properly with a kiss. well, he attempts to. you immediately take a step back, avoiding his embrace. he definitely doesn’t remember a time you’ve ever done that.

“i’m all sweaty,” you tell him, toeing your boots off and heading straight toward the bedroom. you say hello to the kids before shutting the door, the lock clicking into place. 

“are you mad at me?” he asks as soon as he warps into the room.

“satoru!” you startle, staggering back into the door. “get out!”

“nope,” he hums, closing in on you. “we sleep in the same room and you know that i don’t respect boundaries.” 

with that, he reaches over and pulls the baseball cap off your head. 

“satoru, please don’t freak out—”

he freaks out. 

he grabs your chin so you can’t turn away, inspecting the sutures lining your temple. “this is deep! are you okay? why were you hiding it from me?”

you swat his hand away, frowning. “i’m fine, and i wasn’t hiding it. i just didn’t want the kids to see. speaking of, did you guys eat dinner yet?”

“what grade curse was it?”

“special. i thought i smelled something burning—”

“you’re only grade one. why would they—”

“only grade one?” you repeat with a scoff. “don’t say it like that. you know the only reason i’m not special grade is because the zenin’s—”

“because the zenin’s are holding you back until you join them. they’re dicks, babe. that’s old news,” he finishes, tapping his foot impatiently. 

“listen,” you tell him, pinching the bridge of your nose. “i just didn’t get out of the way fast enough. it’s just a cut. i’ve had worse.” 

“well, next time they call you up for assignment, i’m coming with you,” he decides. “we’ll get a sitter for the kids and make it like a date night.”

“whoa,” you interrupt. “you’re inviting yourself on my assignments now? “do you think i’m not good enough?”

“well when you come home hurt, yeah!” 

he regrets it as soon as he says it. 

and he hates the way you’re looking at him. you’re hurt, and it shows. “wow. thanks for the vote of confidence.” 

“hey…”

he says your name, reaching for your hand, but you pull away, shaking your head.

_____

freshly showered and changed, you pull your robe on, exiting the bathroom. gojo’s sitting on the bed, waiting with his head in his hands.

“you know i think you’re more than capable,” he says quietly. “i wasn’t making a dig at your skill. you’re incredible.” 

“i know,” you hum, dumping your uniform into the basket. 

he looks up at you, apologetic. “but if anything happened to you, and you were really hurt…it would be my fault.”

“that’s not true,” you say quickly, sitting beside him. 

“it is,” he insists. “and i could never forgive myself, because i’m supposed to be the strongest.” 

(and what’s the point of being the strongest if he couldn’t protect the people he loved most?)

“satoru,” you murmur, smoothing a hand across his back. “you have such a big heart. i’m dating you because of your heart— well, mostly your abs but also your heart. ou already take on so much for everyone. and i need you to trust that i can’t take care of myself. i don’t want to be another burden to you.”

wordlessly, he takes your hand and presses it to his chest, so you can feel his heartbeat. 

“you are my whole heart. if i lost you and i could have stopped it, like i could’ve stopped—” he purses his lips, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “i just can’t lose you.” 

“and you won’t,” you promise, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “now let’s go have dinner.”

“ah. about that….”

_____

“alright, dinner’s served!”

you the kids exchange a look.

megumi leans close to you, whispering, “can we get sick from this?”

“go on,” satoru encourages, picking up his own sandwich. “it’s a spam sandwich! i used to eat these all the time before i met—”

“you’re really lucky you met her,” the twelve year old grumbles, peeling the bread back to look at the burnt piece of spam.

tsumiki, ever the people pleaser, takes a bite and chews very thoroughly before swallowing with great effort.

“um…the smoke added a nice hickory flavour to the spam.”

“okay, we’re getting pizza,” you decide, shooting your boyfriend an apologetic look.

[torubeth]

aren’t you going to write “degradation taken too far” but with satoru? 🫦😰😭

you asked for it babe; i didn’t wanna hurt yall gojo girlies (inc myself) but you want pain? ok. pain is what you get. warnings : (mature content 18+) smut, degradation, gojo being mean (yes it’s a warning), angst to comfort??and maybe have a tissue box or two????

‘look at the gorgeous mess that you are baby. never knew you’d fold this easy’ he remarks, lips trailing down your body, sucking violet coloured hickeys along the way.

‘satoru- i already told you that the last time, will be the last time! so why are you-!’ slowly but gently he slides in, a wave of contentment washing over you, immediately shutting you up.

‘hmm what was that? mind repeating it f’me sweetheart?’ he smirks.

you decided to stay quiet because what’s the use? you’re gonna end up with him on top you again. mostly tomorrow. and the day after that.

and that’s when you realise that the pace was starting to pick up and his hands were now on your clit, rubbing hard circles eliciting nothing but moans and whines from you.

‘satoru oh my god! shit, feel so good i feel like i’m gonna cum!’ you reach up to slither your arms around his shoulders, your breathy pants now right by ear.

‘toru agh! fuck fuck- i…i love you satoru, i love you so much! please, if you keep this up i might-’ suddenly with a roughness unknown to you, he pulls out.

‘wait wait wait, why’d you stop? i was so close-!’ you pant, leaning up on your elbows.

instantly, there was a shift in his aura.

‘love? you said love? what makes you think i will ever love someone like you? you’re just a hole to fuck. a passing cloud. something for me to do when i’m bored of my fucked up life. nothing more’ he erupts.

‘what?’ your voice was reduced to nothing but a whisper.

‘where in the wide wide vicinity of your fantasy land did you come up with ‘love’ ?’ he spat.

‘i mean seriously, you thought this was something-‘ he knew what he was saying was far from the truth.

why would he not love you? what is there not to love? if he knew what love meant, it’s because of you.

but you shouldn’t love him, but you do. why? why do you wanna be with him? why do you wanna be tied down to someone like him?

meanwhile your mind is racing with a million different thoughts, not knowing what or how to respond.

‘it’s best if you just leave’ he finishes.

you didn’t need to hear the entirety of his speech to know that you were…disposable? replaceable?

the dam breaks and tears stream down your cheeks, eyes red and body trembling. you gather of what’s left of your heart and face him ‘this really is the last time’ you whisper, meaning every word, clutching hard at the sheets for some kind of comfort, without breaking the eye contact.

that’s when his eyes look at you.

your eyes. god, your eyes. they were one of the reasons he fell in love with you. they were fierce, beautiful and always on him. but now they were broken, filled with pain and tears, still beautiful and held nothing but ache.

next was your lips he loved kissing so much. his personal favourite, was always ready to put him in his place and bring him to his knees. now they were trembling. in hate, or fear? he thinks he doesn’t really wanna know the reason behind that.

taking a deep breath, he steeled his nerves because there was no going back now. the cat and mouse chase ends here.

suddenly, a huge wave of warmth enveloped you and it took you mere two seconds to realise that he was hugging you, and hardly a second for you to come to the realisation that you would never push him away.

‘i want you to know that you mean so much to me. a while ago my world was nothing but dark, but you came painted it all, giving meaning to each and every little thing in it. i deserve to rot in hell cuz fuck, i didn’t mean a word of what came out of my mouth’ and that’s when you felt little drops on your neck.

never once has he cried in front of you, always going on about how ‘the strongest never cry’

‘you mean the world to me baby. when you told me you loved me, i was brain dead. never knew i was capable of being loved by someone like you. i mean, why would you love someone like me? all my versions are nothing but a wretched mess, so why would you-?’

pulling back to look at him, your eyes are stern when you tell him-

‘you are actually an idiot if you think i care about any of that’ wiping away his tears, your hands rest against his cheeks.

‘i want all your versions satoru. flaws and all. i want them to course through my veins. i want you in all my mornings and all my nights. i want you everywhere. and if you’re going down, i’m willing to go down with you. so please, please don’t push me away’ you said because loving him was as easy as breathing, your eyes once again starting to tear up.

and that was the confirmation he needed, as he leaned down ‘i love you, i love you so much. i fucking love you’ chanting over and over again. pressing kisses everywhere. your nose, lips, cheeks, forehead, everywhere.

‘i adore you and i promise to cherish you like you deserve till we’re old and wrinkly’ he bumps his nose against yours, earning a small laugh from you.

‘i know you will satoru’ you whisper, bumping his nose in return ‘i will love you till we’re old wrinkly too’

[sixosix]

i want you for worse or for better | aether

synopsis your ex, aether, asks you to be his plus one; you were doomed from the very beginning.

tags wc 2.8k, gn!reader, modern au, profanity, getting back together, exes to lovers, humor bc i cant take my own writing seriously, ft 4GGRAVATE!!!

notes ty to @earthtooz and @naosaki helping me brainstorm w this one… our big brains were on the same wave while cooking.

Aether moved around a lot. He was never the type to settle down. It was in his blood to explore the world and leave only a trace of him behind. He was something like a hero, coming in at the worst time and leaving them better than before. You couldn’t say the same about his effect on you, though.

You told him of this before, and he slumped over and rested his head on your lap, “I don’t even mean to. Are you at least swept off your feet by my heroic deeds?”

“I was so charmed I only dated you because you have overthrown the government,” you said.

Aether had laughed then, and kissed you sweetly. You couldn’t fool him for a second—how you melted to the kiss spoke for itself. You loved him for so much more than that.

But you also knew that it wouldn’t last long. Aether warned you about it, too; you couldn’t even be mad. How could you blame anyone but yourself when you deliberately brushed past all the warning signs?

“I don’t stay,” Aether told you, at the time. “If you want to do this…”

“I know,” you said, at the time. “I know what I’m getting myself into. So will you just kiss me already?”

Well, you should’ve known, too, that falling out of love with Aether wouldn’t be as easy as falling in love with him. Not when he kissed you like he would never leave, anyway. You were doomed from the very beginning.

“You’ve been staring at your phone for a worryingly long time now,” Tighnari said, eyeing you from the top of his cards.

You were seated on Alhaitham’s living room couch, the four boys lounging on the floor playing TCG. Cyno was winning effortlessly against Kaveh, but against Tighnari, he found himself at a loss. Alhaitham was continuing Cyno’s winning streak on his behalf, while Cyno was down two rounds from playing with Tighnari. You had been playing, too, but your phone lit up and displayed a name that had you dropping your cards and hiding your screen from your friends’ view.

You bit your lip and reread the message for the third time. The previous texts had been months ago, with him wishing you a happy birthday. You replied with a Thank you and a red heart emoji, because the <3 emoticon felt too intimate.

“Aether texted me,” you murmured, then braced yourself for the explosion.

It was Kaveh that did. “Aether? As in your ex, Aether? That Aether?” Kaveh demanded.

“Do you know other Aethers?” Alhaitham quipped, then placed a card that had Kaveh clutching his head and groaning.

“Shut up,” Kaveh hissed, mostly because he lost. “The point is—that’s your ex! What did he say?”

You buried your face on the couch pillow, hating how your heart was racing. Like you were still in high school, or something, and not a full-grown adult who was having a crisis over their ex texting them. “He said hey are you up?, all lowercase, no comma.”

“No comma,” Kaveh repeated with a suspicious look on his face.

“No need to be so wary,” Cyno said. “His intentions don't appear to deliberately cause any 'comma-tion’.”

Tighnari’s ears dropped along with his face.

“Do you get it?” Cyno seemed proud that he was able to come up with that one right away. “There was no comma. It was a wordplay on commotion—”

“Did he also say what he was texting you for?” Kaveh interrupted loudly. “If he wants something, send a picture of us and tell him you’re busy.”

“Aether’s not like that,” you murmured in defeat.

Kaveh was making him out to be some sort of playboy. Aether wasn’t, which made you worry more. You didn’t want to entertain someone who left you, but you still cared enough to wonder if something came up and he needed you.

“You’re going to reply?” Tighnari asked.

“Yes,” you said, typing out a what’s up? and hitting Send. You didn’t know why you had butterflies in your stomach—you used to shower with Aether back when you were still together; there was no need to be so nervous. “He’s your friend, too, you know.”

“You were our friend first,” Kaveh said. “And he broke your heart. That’s not something to be taken lightly.”

You felt warm, a smile blooming on your face. “It’s okay. I wasn’t that affected.”

“You were,” Kaveh, Tighnari, and Cyno chorused.

“Fuck you,” you said, smile dropping.

Aether was typing again. You sat up straight and watched the three dots do the worm on the bottom of your screen. 

hi :) how are you?

Ugh. Furiously, you typed, aether spit it out. did something happen?

okay okay

You expected that he just wanted something. Something had to have come up for him to text you after months. That didn’t make it hurt any less, though. Maybe Aether was a playboy; the way he played with your feelings almost qualified him for it.

But then you think back to when Aether was still in Sumeru, lighting up the room, lighting up a fire in your heart. He was everyone’s favorite, too, not just yours. And even if Kaveh and the others denied it now, they hadn’t been able to deny him back then. Aether helped them out in ways they didn’t know how to repay. Aether made you so happy, to be thinking so negatively about him like this.

Aether sent: i’m invited to aymar’s wedding and i wanted to ask if you would agree to be my plus one

why me?

you’re the first person i thought of.

Perhaps he wasn’t in trouble—he was trouble enough. What were you getting yourself into?

i thought you didn’t want to get involved with Aymar anymore

i can’t turn down an excuse to eat free at a buffet

You sighed. You wouldn’t, either.

You frowned at your screen, wishing it was Aether in front of you instead. Maybe if you could read his expressions instead of reading between the lines of his texts, you could figure out why he invited his ex, of all the people he knew.

besides, Aether continued to text, this is probably aymar’s way of showing us that she’s over me. she has a groom now and all that

Aymar had the biggest crush on Aether, and she never hid it, even when you and Aether were dating. But despite her advances, she was a sweet girl who was just as infatuated with your ex as the rest of Teyvat was. Maybe this was her way of apologizing.

However—

she didn’t even invite me wtf

haha well is that a no?

“Guys,” you spoke up, grabbing your friends’ attention. Kaveh was still losing miserably. “Have you heard news of Aymar’s wedding?”

“Oh,” Kaveh looked thoughtful, “yes. We were invited.”

“What? Was I the only one not invited?”

“Maybe it’s because you got to date Aether and she didn’t,” Tighnari said.

You rolled your eyes. “Well, Aether’s asking me to be his plus one—and I’m going to say yes don’t look at me like that.”

Alhaitham, Cyno, and Kaveh wordlessly clear their expressions.

“Oh,” Tighnari frowned. “We weren’t planning on going.”

“We have to now!” Kaveh said. “We have to, if Y/N’s going.”

“Is this too much?”

You checked yourself out in the full-length mirror, performing a little twirl that had Kaveh clapping. Alhaitham sat beside him, briefly looking up from his book. Tighnari and Cyno were elsewhere, picking shoes for you that would be in the range of ‘cheap’ and ‘expensive, but not because I care about what Aether would think’.

“Of course not,” Kaveh said, giving a thumbs up. “You look great!”

You turned to Alhaitham next, who didn’t hesitate: “Looks good. Might as well wear yellow, too.”

You flushed hotly at his implications. “I’m not dressing up to impress him! This is a formal event, which he happened to invite me to—as friends.”

“Right,” Alhaitham drawled. He could at least pretend to believe you, but that would probably be asking too much from him already.

Kaveh nudged Alhaitham, with a bit more force than necessary. “Cut Y/N some slack.”

Alhaitham sighed imperceptibly, turning his full attention to you. “This would probably be the closure you needed,” Alhaitham said, and you recognized his way of comfort for the way it is. “You’ll find out that you’re over him after this.”

“You’re right,” you said, breathing in deep. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“So,” Kaveh stood up. “Is that what you’re buying? Let’s make haste—Cyno reserved a spot in the line for you!”

Excitement bubbled in your chest as you held the fabric to your chest.

You were definitely not over Aether.

As soon as you felt yourself fidgeting nervously a block away from the ceremony, you knew. As soon as a car rolled in and he stumbled out of the car, tripping because he was waving at you, you knew that you were so not over him.

You tried to blame the heat of the sun for how warm you suddenly felt, but you could be referring to the other sun making his merry way to you, his smile bright, all teeth. His braid could almost be a tail from how it waggled as he jogged over.

“Hey,” Aether, charming and beautiful Aether, gold and warm—your ex, Aether—breathed out, “you look great.”

“You, too.” Aether looked maddening in a suit, in the best way possible. You felt lightheaded and choked out, “Very dashing.”

“Yeah?” He grinned.

“Yeah,” you said, then turned away in case he saw the raw, unfiltered want on your face.

“Shall we?”

How cheesy. Still, you felt yourself flush as you linked your arms with his, like you were a couple. Kaveh was going to kill you—after he killed Aether first.

Aymar’s wedding was startlingly grand. You think she might just have invited the entirety of Sumeru; you might even find Lesser Lord Kusanali here, maybe. 

You found your friends and settled beside them while Aether awkwardly sat on the far edge. He seemed reluctant to have space from you, so you pulled him closer.

“Hey,” Tighnari greeted him. “How have you been? You stopped sending us letters.”

Aether looked extremely uncomfortable. He must be feeling Cyno’s stern stare. “Haha. Well, yeah.” 

The ceremony went as usual. The groom was someone you didn’t recognize; he looked like he was from Sumeru, all big and intimidating—the complete opposite of Aether. Aymar’s tastes changed drastically. All the same, you cheered along with the crowd when they kissed.

You haven’t been able to attend many weddings yourself, though you could always appreciate how emotional the newlyweds got. Vows were always the sweetest to hear. You’d never seen Aymar smile so wide before; then again, it was only fitting. This was her wedding day. Not that you’d know, though.

You glance to the side, catching Aether looking at the newlyweds kiss with an unreadable expression on his face. He looked like he longed for it, but that didn’t seem right. Weddings tied you down. Aether didn’t want to be tied down.

Kaveh clapped the loudest, which snapped Aether into clapping along as well.

You wondered what Aether was thinking. You wonder if he was thinking the same. Looking at the happy bride and the teary groom—could this have been you and him in another life?

Hah.

That’s a funny thought.

You bit your bottom lip to distract yourself from feeling your eyes go hot.

Aymar beamed at you two as she bounded over. “You came!” she said, though it was directed at you.

You wanted to tell her you weren’t even invited, but you felt like that would ruin the moment. Plus, it was literally her wedding. You were glad you ended up here after all the years you spent knowing each other. You smiled back, genuine, and leaned into her hug.

“Of course,” you said. “You look beautiful.”

Aymar blushed. “Thank you. You two look great as well!”

Aether shuffled beside you. “Thanks for inviting us.”

Aymar had that look in her eye that spelled suspicious.

But the past was the past. You weren’t going to get jealous when Aymar was quite literally married, and Aether wasn’t even your boyfriend anymore. “I’m glad you’re happy, Aymar,” you said.

Aymar glanced between the two of you, then finally at you. “I hope you find happiness, too, Y/N. Soon, hopefully.”

The reception started. While your friends were busy hoarding the food, you and Aether were left alone. He looked uncharacteristically nervous—it made you pity him. He was the one who asked you to come with him, but he must have felt out of place the entire time. Everyone thought he would never return, after all.

You traced the rim of your glass, hoping to appear nonchalant. “So, what have you been up to while at Fontaine? Finally moving off to Natlan?” you asked, then bit back a Find any other flings, too?

Aether sighed, twirling his champagne flute before taking a long sip. “Didn’t do too much, honestly. I spent most of my time there thinking.” His eyes flicked up to yours. “Lumine already found her place here in Teyvat, and I…”

Oh.

You were glad you held back from being petty while Aether was genuinely distressed over his journey to self-discovery. Again, you weren’t an asshole. And you still cared about Aether, despite everything, because he was hard to hate. With a sad face like that…

“Sorry,” you muttered. You didn’t mean to make him remember Lumine.

Aether laughed softly. “It’s not like that. It took me a while, but—I had already found my place, too. I was just too dumb not to realize it sooner.”

You wanted to chide him for calling himself dumb, but he was looking at you like he was waiting for you to get something. You blinked, feeling lost.

Aether tilted his head. “It’s with you.”

Your mouth hung open. “What?”

Aether went to repeat it, but Cyno and Tighnari had come back with plates heaping with food. Cyno had one on each hand, unabashed. He sat on his seat and said, in all seriousness, “We might have finished all the catering.”

Tighnari chuckled, “We didn’t, but you two should hurry and get your fill.”

You didn’t get another chance to talk with Aether privately during the reception, but it was still good fun. Aether seemed to warm up to your friends again—or, rather, your friends seemed to warm up to him again.

You shared laughs, food, and toasts with the newlyweds—but your favorite had to have been sharing glances with Aether all throughout the night.

You and Aether went ahead. Cyno and Tighnari didn’t seem surprised when you told them that you were letting Aether take you home, which would have certainly been a blow to your dignity had it been in any other situation.

“So,” you started, “what made you realize you wanted to get me back? Did you have some revelation while in Fontaine?”

“Yes, actually,” Aether said, his hands brushing against yours now and then. “For every sight and couple I saw, I just kept thinking about how you would’ve loved it there.”

“Oh.”

Aether looked bashful. The moonlight highlighted his blush well. “I thought it was because we had just broken up at the time, but I never stopped thinking about you.”

Aether kept going, but you were already sold. You already wanted to get back with him the moment he texted you with all lowercase and no commas. You were fooling no one. Not Alhaitham, not yourself. “What, so you want to take me to the City of Love?”

Aether looked at you fondly. “You would always be the first one I’d think of.”

“I curbed your wanderlust…?” You were fishing for it at this point, but being deprived of Aether’s affections for a long while did that to a person.

You felt outmaneuvered. Shouldn’t you be letting him chase after you a bit more? Why were you discarding your pride just like that? Over your ex?

Your not-ex-anymore now-boyfriend-again smiled. “You became my reason to stay.”

Well. You were doomed from the very beginning.

“Aether!” Paimon shrieked from the other room. “You have mail!”

“Alright, alright,” Aether sighed, lazily pulling himself up from his bed and trudging to the living room. Paimon held a brown envelope.

Aether opened it and withdrew the contents, puzzled.

“Ooh!” Paimon gasped. “Two invitations for a wedding? Is it for Paimon, too?”

Aether ripped the other envelope, heart stuttering at the sight of a familiar name inked on the vellum paper. He blushed. “This is—!”

“Huh? For Y/N?” Paimon snatched the invitation from Aether’s fingers. “Why was it addressed to us? Maybe they were mistaken…”

Aether read something on the back of your invitation. “I don’t think it was mistaken.”

Written with a ballpen, it said, Hi, Y/N! It’s Aymar! I don’t know Aether’s address and none of my colleagues seemed to know where his residence would be…? (Probably because Aether wasn’t even in Sumeru.) But I assumed you would be staying together, so here’s my invitation for you both—I hope you can come!

Aether recognized an opportunity when he saw one.

extras!

the ending was rlly vague so let me add: aether was planning to go back to sumeru for you already and the wedding invitation was a perfect excuse—he flew out back to sumeru literally the next day.

earthtooz was making out with alhaitham & art was making out w kaveh during the reception which is why they dont show up during the end thanks

cyno brought his tcg deck and made tighnari bring his own—thats what they did during the afterparty lol

don’t ask if paimon was floating or if she was on the ground. sometimes we dont have to question things.

aymar was a name i just grabbed from the list of sumeru npcs—i don’t actually know if i butchered her personality horribly. if i did, forgive me.

THANK YOU FOR READING HOPE U ENJOYED!! LMK WHAT U THINK <3333 comments/rbs get a kiss from aether

[softspiderling]

illicit affairs - part seven | r.c

summary:

The shower was still raining down on you, and if the both of you weren’t buck ass naked, this would probably be incredibly romantic and you’d consider just spilling your guts to him. You exhaled deeply, blinking the water drops out of your lashes. What Rafe said made sense. But were you ready to give up more of him, just because you couldn’t keep your feelings in check?

“So? Are we putting a stop to this?”

OR; You deal with an intruder, lose your temper and Rafe and you take a shower.

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

warnings: SMUT! 18+ only! (oral male/female receiving)

word count: 2,6k

author's note: long awaited im guessing HAHAHAH i hope you have survived so far. finally introducing the third character of this series.... you all know him. as usual, happy reading and i look forward to hearing about your thoughts <3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

pt. seven: "tell yourself you can always stop"

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

The “intruder” was standing shock still, the two of you staring at each other. You didn’t think that was going to hurt you or anything, but the rollling pin was still raised in the air, ready to strike any second. While you didn’t necessarily share the disdain for pogues as your friends did, it didn’t mean that you trusted him. He broke into your house after all.

JJ Maybank, possibly the definition of a pogue, was standing in your hallway, hands raised in defense as he eyed the rolling pin in your hand. He looked almost bored.

“I said, what the fuck are you doing?” you repeated, your voice strained.

“Uh, standing. What are you doing, princess?”

You let the nickname slide, glaring at him.

“Defending myself against an intruder.”

“Intruder?

JJ barked out a laugh, his hands clutching his stomach like he just heard the funniest joke in his life, though he quickly raised his hands again when you pointed the rolling pin closer at his face.

“You just broke into to my house, what are you if not an intruder?” you asked, affronted.

“I didn’t break in on purpose!”

“Oh, so you just accidentally broke into my house??”

“Hey, to be fair, you left the door unlocked.”

“Are you blaming the victim right now?”

JJ bit back a grin, his hand slowly reaching out to lower the rolling pin. You let him, but remained wary, your arms dropping to your sides.

“What are you doing here JJ?”

JJ took off his cap, running his hand through his messy hair once before putting his cap back on.

You tried to ignore that you thought he was hot.

“I was coming out of Ruby’s and trying not to be seen by anyone, thought I could hide out here for a bit,” he explained and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Ruby Evans? She has a boyfriend.”

“Yeah well that would’ve been good to know before I hooked up with her and almost got caught by said boyfriend.”

You rolled your eyes at him. Figured JJ would be caught with his hands in the cookie jar. Obviously you knew JJ, but only really on the surface. You didn’t exactly run in the same circles. But you knew that Rafe didn’t really like him, neither did Topper, but mostly because JJ was John B’s best friend. Kelce didn’t really have much of an opinion except for the fact that he thought JJ was hot, so that was that. What you did know, however, was that JJ shared the same disdain for kooks that Rafe did for pogues, so to catch JJ on the other side of the island was newsworthy.

“I’m surprised you’d get caught up with Ruby,” you said. “I thought you hated kooks.”

JJ merely shrugged, grinning at you.

“Why deprave the female population of the other side of the island of an experience with me only because of something they can’t change?”

You snorted, biting back a laugh because you knew that if he thought you thought he was funny, it was over for you. JJ took the moment to let his eyes wander over you, and you stopped yourself from wrapping the linen shirt around your exposed body. This was your house and you weren’t gonna let someone else make you feel uncomfortable. Much less a guy.

“Had a pool party?”

“Something like that,” you replied, meeting JJ’s gaze straight on. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, his boyish grin growing.

“Should I take it personally that I wasn’t invited?”

You gave him a look and JJ winked at you, before his face lit up, like he remembered something.

“Hey, your parents are organizing the spring fling, right?”

“Yes, why?” You asked back, suspicious.

“Well, I was wondering if you could do me a favor…” He started, rubbing the back of his neck. “I need some money to fix up my bike, and the country club always pays well. But the hostess kind of hates my guts, so she’d never hire me if I applied for the job. You think you could put in a good word for me?”

It was odd how JJ was able to switch from sarcastic to bashful the minute he needed something from you. You had heard from other girls that he was something of a womanizer, and the fact that he just came out of Ruby’s house just proved the point. So you tried not to put much worth on the grin he was giving you.

Most people would probably call it charming. You weren’t most people.

“… I’ll see what I can do.”

“Cool,” JJ said, honest to god pointing finger guns at you. This guy was unreal. He turned to leave the way he entered - through the patio door - but before he shut the door, he looked back to you, one foot already out of the house. “You’re not so bad for a kook, princess.”

JJ slipped through the small gap, closing the sliding door behind him. With a deep sigh, you locked the door, pulling down the blinds for good measure before you headed back to the kitchen. You put the rolling pin back in its place, shutting the dishwasher before switching it on, trying to act like that just didn’t happen.

Turning off all the lights downstairs, you headed towards the hallway, preparing to go to bed when two short raps came on the front door before it opened, as Rafe let himself in like he had been invited over. For some reason, it made you mad. You let out a sigh as you took him in and he raised a brow at you.

“You really need to lock the doors when you’re home alone precious,” Rafe commented and you snorted under your breath.

“Tell me about it.”

He shut the door behind him, locking it and you freed your hair from the claw clip, shaking your head out, feeling a migraine coming on.

“Did you really clean up the mess in the kitchen by yourself?”

“I said I would, didn’t I?”

“I would’ve helped you,” Rafe pointed out, annoyed.

“Well, you didn’t exactly tell me that you were staying over,” you retorted, just as annoyed. “Or that you were coming back.”

“Why are you being an asshole?”

Rafe’s irritation was evident in his voice and you let out a sigh.

“I’m sorry Rafe. I’m just tired, okay?” You pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling your shoulders slump a little. “If you came to fuck I don’t think I’m really in the mood today, so you can just leave. I’ll just take a shower and go to bed.”

You didn’t wait for an answer and turned to walk into your bedroom upstairs, heading straight to the bathroom. As you stripped down, throwing you bikini and the overshirt in the hamper, you thought you heard the front door shut. You tried not to let the angry tears in your eyes fall as you stepped into the shower, instead, you turned the water on, letting it drench your whole head. Fucker, you thought to yourself. You couldn’t believe that he’d just leave like that. Before all of this, he never would’ve just left.

Then again, you wouldn’t be in this situation either. Was this how it was going to be from now on?

You were so wrapped up in your thoughts, you didn’t even heat the door to the bathroom clink open. Only when the glass door of your shower squeaked, you were made aware of Rafe’s presence as he stepped inside. You really had to work on your spatial awareness. He stepped under the shower stream, the water immediately soaking him up, your eyebrows shot up in surprise and Rafe gave you a displeased look, pressing himself against your backside.

You kept quiet for a few seconds, the knot in your chest unfurling slightly, and you found yourself leaning against him.

“I thought you left.”

“You know you’re my best friend, right?”

Rafe’s voice was quiet as he murmured into your ear, his hand coming up behind you to cup around your breast. You bit back a sarcastic reply, because surely this wasn’t something a best friend would do.

“I wouldn’t just leave when I know you’re upset about something, you think you’re just a piece of ass to me?”

“I don’t know what we are these days,” you muttered, half hoping that Rafe didn’t hear you, but based on the way his hand clenched around your waist, he did hear. He turned you around in his arms, frowning down at you.

“Precious,” Rafe said, his voice tight. “You’re my best friend. Yes, the sex is fucking great, but it’s not worth losing you over. If you’re starting to question our friendship, we shouldn’t be doing this anymore.”

The shower was still raining down on you, and if the both of you weren’t buck ass naked as the day you were born, this would probably be incredibly romantic and you’d consider just spilling your guts to him. You exhaled deeply, blinking the water drops out of your lashes, trying to clear your head. What Rafe said made sense. But were you ready to give up more of him, just because you couldn’t keep your feelings in check?

“So? Are we putting a stop to this?”

Rafe took a step back. It was small, he barely moved, but to you it felt like a mile. You couldn’t go back to just being only his best friend, so before he could move away even further, you reached out to pull him back in, leaning on your tiptoes to kiss him. Rafe grunted into the kiss, seemingly hesitant for a second before he all but melted into you, his hand wrapping around your hair to tilt your head further up. You lost yourself in the kiss for a second, your hands intertwining on the nape of his neck before you pulled away when it got too heated.

“I’m too tired for sex,” you said, though you couldn’t deny the warmth unfurling between your legs.

Rafe eyed you for a second, before he nodded, turning you in his arms again, his chest against your back.

“Let me take care of you.“

With a flick of his wrist, he turned the water off, before he ran his hand down your waist, fingers slipping between your thighs. Your breath hitched, pressing further into him.

“Rafe.”

“Relax,” he murmured into the skin of your neck, tongue lapping up the water droplets that clung to your shoulder. “If you want me to stop, I will.”

His hand ventured further down, one finger dipping into the warmth of your folds and you let out a soft sigh, the stress leaving your body. You had half a mind to tell him to stop, you you found yourself saying nothing. Your hand wrapped around his bicep, searching for something to hold onto while the pad of his thumb stroked circles over your most sensitive little spot of nerves, having you moan out his name.

“That’s it,” Rafe said, leaning further down so he could slip his finger into your cunt, your gummy walls opening up to his digits, your knees growing weak. Both of you were still wet from the interrupted shower, and you should’ve been long cold by now, but all you felt was Rafe’s warm body pressed up against you and the heat coiling in your lower stomach. Rafe’s movements weren’t fast paced, but he applied pressure in just the right places, you felt your orgasm coming in no time.

“Shit,” you gasped, laying your head against his chest, catching Rafe’s eyes on you, seeing a hunger in his eyes you couldn’t quite place, but before you could question it, he kissed you, stealing your breath away. The kiss was the last thing that threw you over the edge and with a small, breathy moan you came apart on Rafe’s fingers, clinging onto him for dear life. As you caught your breath, Rafe placed his hands on your waist, steadying you.

“You good?”

You let out a grunt, squeezing his wrist. “You know the shower is one of the most dangerous places to have sex in?”

“… That doesn’t sound right.”

“Shut up,” you huffed, taking your hands off of Rafe, testing your footing, before you turned, getting on your knees.

“Hey, you don’t have to do this.”

“Didn’t I just tell you to shut up?” you asked back, wrapping your hand around his cock and Rafe let out a moan, carding his fingers through your hair. “Your dick has been pressed into my back for the past 15 minutes, let me suck you off.”

“If you insist.”

Rolling your eyes wordlessly, you pumped his cock for a but, before licking a strip along his shaft, making Rafe curse above you. You only smirked to yourself, before you wrapped your lips around his cock, knowing that was all he wanted right now.

“Fuck,” Rafe hissed, his grip on your hair tightening, thought you didn’t mind, your focus solely on sucking the life out of him. Your tongue was pressing against the small slit on his tip as you moved your mouth along the length of his cock, hand still wrapped around his lower base, where you couldn’t quite reach. You weren’t a beginner when it came to cock sucking, but you weren’t a professional either. It was safe to say that Rafe was pretty content with your skills though.

Hollowing out your cheeks, you took in as much of his cock as possible, continuing to suck on him, a mixture of saliva and Rafe’s precum smearing around the edges of your mouth, making a whole mess in your face, though you continued unperturbed.

“Shit, you really give the best head prec-”

Your nails dug into his thighs, and he cut off, replacing your nickname with your real name, and you eased off his thigh, sighing softly as the head of his cock brushed against the back of your throat, hoping it wouldn’t bruise again. It didn’t take long until Rafe slowly started thrusting into your mouth, his hips stuttering that you knew he was close.

“I’m about to come,” he warned you, his voice hoarse and the grip on your hair less hard. You only let out a hum of acknowledgement, not lessening your movement until Rafe spurted his cum down your throat, groaning out your name. You took your mouth off his cock, having swallowed his bitter cum and wiped your mouth, satiated.

Meanwhile, Rafe was leaning on the shower wall, gently extricating his hand out of your wet hair, heaving breaths.

“You’re a minx,” he told you, pulling you up for a quick kiss. You only grinned against his lips, swatting at his bare chest. Nipping on your lower lip, Rafe reached behind you to turn the shower back on, to finally finish what you had come here for in the first place. Together, you showered quickly and thoroughly and as Rafe washed the soapy suds off of you, hands all over your body, it felt intimate but not in a sexual way. You tried not to think about it too much.

When the both of you were done, hands all prune-y, you exited the shower, wrapping yourself in a robe and handing a towel to Rafe so he could dry off. You did a quick run through of your nighttime routine, while Rafe watched bemusedly as he brushed his teeth, but didn’t comment on it. When you were both done, crawling into bed, your hair still damp, you settled into your side of the bed (which was a wild statement in itself, as Rafe turned off the light in the bedroom, before getting in bed on the other side. You were content to fall asleep, safe and soundly tucked in, when Rafe reached under the blankets to pull you close against his chest, tucking his chin into the crook of your neck.

Your cheeks heated, and you side eyed Rafe as he got comfortable in bed, your shoulders tense.

“I meant what I said,” he then muttered, arms wrapped around your waist. “If you ever feel like our friendship is changing or this makes me feel like you can’t trust me, you gotta tell me precious. I don’t want to lose want to lose my best friend.”

“I don’t want to lose you either,” you mumbled, laying a hand on his, trying to reassure him, even though your heart was racing a mile a minute. Rafe didn’t reply, and before long, his breath evened out, but you were still wide awake.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: okay real talk, how many of you guessed who the intruder was???

[copperbadge]

R and myself were talking recently about kids books, since little Baby U is starting to show an interest in books and reading, and I said I had some book recommendations because I started reading extremely young (around 18 months) and my parents, not knowing what to do with me, gave me weird fucked up books like Zag to read, and I loved them.

"what do you think of A Little Prince?" he asked.

"I'm not super objective about that one -- "

"Oh, do you love it too?"

"Ah...no, it's just below The Velveteen Rabbit in my list of children's books I truly hate."

"You hate The Velveteen Rabbit?!"

Someday I'm going to unpack exactly why I hate those two books in particular while being indifferent to books like The Giving Tree (I mostly was just sad that the end of the book involves confronting our inevitable aging and death, but not distraught the way a lot of kids apparently are about the poor tree). I can remember plodding through the endless twee prose of A Little Prince, with its tiny nightmare world and off-putting protagonists, and thinking the four year old equivalent of "who does this motherfucker think he is?" whenever the repeated cant of how horrible and unimaginative adults are came up yet again. But because I hated it so much as a small child I can't read it objectively, I'm just looking for new things to be mad about.

Ditto The Velveteen Rabbit, although my initial reaction to that one was mostly "This is a story about a boy whose only comfort object was taken from him and BURNED IN A PYRE after a traumatizing illness" so it's a little less esoteric. (Yes I know the bunny wasn't burned, but he doesn't.)

Anyway I'm not saying I'm an ideal grownup to be like but if you do want your kids to grow up with this particular flavor of weirdness, give your tiny readers Robert Tallon picture books and Jack Prelutsky poetry books and The Ox Cart Man and Three Days On A River In A Red Canoe. And Panda Cake if you can get your hands on a copy.

Maybe not the Babar books. They're beautiful and weird but the colonialism has not held up well.

[infamous-if]

Dec ✮ 12 ✮ 2024 – update

Part of me hates doing these mostly because it's a whole lotta nothing and me just repeating everything I said the last update (lol) but I do like doing it because I like keeping people updated, even if it's a non-update. I may sound like a broken record (pun not intended) but I know a lot of people don't catch my updates every time so it's nice to just keep people informed yk yk

✮ — Part 2 + rewrite

Fun fact: I had written an entire essay about my excitement for the rewrite and chapter 3 and beyond but it got too long!

It boiled down to me wondering why I'm so excited for this rewrite and realizing it's because I feel comfortable enough to approach it with complete creative freedom. I wrote the first iteration of the demo with the constant worries swimming in my head like "I hope people understand what I'm trying to say here" and "I hope this situation is being read the way I intended for it to be read." And I think I sort of had those thoughts tenfold while writing Part 2. If you paid attention, you can probably see where I was trying to shut down certain discussions in the narrative lmao

Recently I had a tiny epiphany and reminded myself that it's not always about what I intend to write, but what is being understood by each reader. And yes this is basic writing 101 but let me have this moment of clarity okay. Embracing that means I can proceed with Infamous without holding back and sticking to my guns in regards to what I want for this story aka I'm just going to write what I write and like....not worry about the rest you feel (while of course integrating the common critiques and suggestions and improving on the things Infamous falls short in—I am not Shakespeare lmao)

ANYWAY my point is that I'm excited to fix up the demo !!! and just go back to it with complete confidence in myself and write whatever the heck feels right to me (and write the rest of the story lolol) and return with a better story than I have now for everyone!!

✮ — December will be for

planning what I'm going to improve and squeezing that in a reworked outline so it can flow much better narratively.

Outlining Chapter 3 and hopefully have the bare bones first draft drafted up which is mostly just be writing blocks of descriptions

I'm not sure I'll have anything substantial to justify looking for beta testers so soon yet but maybe!

work on my spice writing babey writing/reading spice makes me actually physically recoil but im determined to get better! which reminds me to finish the 6k follower gifts!

And also take a small breather because I am moving!

✮ — Patreon

I've already mentioned this on Patreon and a few times on here, but I do want to reiterate that Patreon content is coming out in bulk this month, in case anyone was wondering why I'm not posting as frequently. The content is still the same in terms of the quantity, it just won't be released every few days! thank you guys for being understanding of that <3

✮ —

My activity has is decreasing little by little due to my move but I do read every question and try to at least answer one question a day. I get quite a few mentions lately so I have to sort through those since I do get tagged in things, but I miss them due to my notifications. Usually I hope for the best and hope tracking the tag puts it on my dashboard <3 im not ignoring anyone!

That's all for now! Hope everyone has a happy December and Happy Holidays!

[ecoustsaintmein]

Poolverine thoughts

So I've just returned from watching Deadpool and Wolverine for like...the 8th? 9th time now? And I have thoughts about how the filmmakers chose to portray the evolution of their relationship -- some of them may already have been pointed out by others on this site, but this is my attempt to summarise them!

Also mostly I'm putting myself in Logan's shoes and writing this from his perspective?

Spoilers below cut:

We know that Wade has always made comments about Logan, even from the first film eg 'whose balls do I have to fondle to get this movie made?'. He might sound like he hates the guy, but obviously there's respect there, and he showed it in a Wade way. We know that by the third film, Wade wants to matter. He wants to be an Avenger, and almost regretted that even the X-Men didn't even want him. He prooobably almost nearly gagged when he spoke in earnest about how Logan has always been viewed as the X-Man in his world, but the respect is there. (And perhaps that's why he doesn't 'hit on' Logan as much as compared to Cable, Colossus et al? And all the 'shippy' comments were made by other characters in the film eg: bartender 'are you gonna fuck or fight?' or Cassandra's 'you two are cute'?)

The song choices when Logan and Wade interact, from AC/DC's Hell's Bells when they fight for the first time (fair, because Logan doesn't know Wade that well yet), to Avril Lavigne's I'm With You ('Take me by the hand, take me somewhere new/I don't know who you are but I, I'm with you') when they're driving in the Odyssey, which again, quite apt? And 'also the line 'take me home' in the Avril Lavigne song, which probably reflects Logan not really knowing who Wade is but just -- going along with the ride, as if asking Wade, just take me home, find me a place for me to belong. The theme of home recurs again and again, which leads one to wonder why it's not so surprising that Logan did end up following Wade home in the end???' Plus, 'You're the one that I want' when they're having that heavy makeout sesh intimate fight scene in the Honda? Let's not even talk about the 'Like a Prayer' scene, which again. 'When you call my name, and it feels like home.' Again. Home.

Which then leads to Logan, who confessed to Cassandra that he 'turned away' when 'they called for him', and he didn't make that mistake again when Wade called out his name at the end. While Aretha Franklin's 'You're All I Need to Get By' plays in the background. Yep.

Let's not forget the fact that Logan, after the fight in the Odyssey (despite all the boohooing and ongoing alcoholic misery afterwards), picked up the photograph of Wade's 'world', and returned it to Wade. Man doesn't want to show or say it during the second and third act but he CARES. A LOT!

Logan repeating Wade's words, verbatim, twice! ('You didn't lie, you made an educated wish'), and 'I'm an X-Men. I'm the X-Men')

Logan telling Wade that he wished Wade would die alone, then ending up making sure that Wade wouldn't have to die alone.

Logan keeping the suit on him at all times, only to have it get destroyed at the climax of the film - which, sad, because yes it's the only thing that reminds him of the X-Men of his world, but it could also be an analogy of -- he needs to move on. And he did! He wanted to be free, and he told this as much to Cassandra, and he did become free, in the end!

On the subject of Cassandra, she promised Logan that she could 'silence everything'. The joke's on her, because Logan found himself trading peace (as silence), for peace (as a chaotic, loud motormouth). He found his home, and it's with Wade.

On the subject of peace and home -- Logan is pretty much an immortal being, and a lot of his issues may have stemmed from the trauma of losing people he cares about, or people who got close to him, even for like 5 seconds (evidenced by ALL THE X-MEN MOVIES). He carried that with him throughout this movie, with all the references of saving the world, saving Wade's world, getting home, etc etc -- the point being, he did it for Wade, in the end (never mind Wade's educated wish that the TVA would restore Logan's past). And despite doing it for Wade, Logan was rewarded by having Wade AND Laura in his life now; both pretty much people who can't die, as part of his family. At least he will always have them -- and isn't that freeing and peaceful enough???

Last but not least -- as a circular thing, I'm going back to my first point. Wade spent the whole movie wanted to matter. In the end, he finds out that he does matter -- not just to his 'old world', but also to Logan. And be it just mutual respect, which then blooms into friendship, fondness, maybe more -- the point is: Wade does matter. To Logan. A character he spent the previous two films talking about despite not featuring at all in those movies. How do I know this you ask? Yes, Logan wanted to sacrifice himself for Wade. But more importantly, he followed Wade home. And at the end, after multiple groans, and frowns, and curses, he SMILED! AND LAUGHED! At Wade's stupid jokes!

I'm probably reading too much into their relationship and how they were written, and maybe it wasn't even Ryan's intention, but goddamn Hugh and Ryan made their chemistry/friendship bleed onto the screen, no matter how they were initially written in the script.

[gender-trash]

(i am seriously late in posting about this due to The Problems BUT whatever! its here now!!)

somewhere around late november 2022, i asked my dad "hey are there any out of print technical books you'd like a reprint of for christmas?"

he linked me to a dubious black-and-white pdf of Foundations of Mechanical Accuracy. now, i wound up checking out a copy through link+, and the original edition is a really nicely put together book! the chapters are themed around various types of measurements (length, angle, etc), and they all have these cute little diagrams which the endpapers reuse in a lil repeating pattern... the image captions are done in this really lovely dark red that did not scan for SHIT... tons and tons of diagrams and illustrations and images (both color and b&w)... just, all around, a fucking nice book!! (see also @morrak's post about it here.)

and that made me feel kind of bad about the crappiness of the pdf, which is where the Problems began. i used my phone to take pictures of all the photos and color diagrams in the original and went about replacing them in the pdf, using what turned out to be the world's worst pdf editing software (i also got through replacing all the image captions in chapter 1 of 5 before my dad convinced me to give up). i did NOT finish the pdf editing before christmas 2022 (i was going somewhat off the deep end, because both my housemates were away visiting family and i had zero external structure in my life so it was just me and my cat and this stupid FUCKING pdf wrecking my sleep schedule together); i poked away at it for most of the rest of my time off and then got so goddamn sick of it i put the project away for months. "it'll be a birthday gift instead", i said optimistically (my dad's birthday is in april! it should have been enough time!)

gentle readers, i did not finish the pdf editing by april. mostly because it was such a miserable slog that i put it off until the last possible moment and then tried to make up for it with another death march.

hating both myself and the project again, i decided i was Not going to let myself typeset Anything Else before it was done, and then took a break to bind my immortal (using the renegade publishing typeset! i didn't do any typesetting!!). SURELY, i said, i can finish this in time for christmas 2023.

i'm sure you know where this is going.

in my defense i DID finish the pdf editing by christmas, despite first doing every other possible procrastination project (including a second edition of the little second century warlord book), because by this point my dad had managed to convince me to lower my standards. on the evening of the 22nd i kicked off the print job and said to myself "this will finish printing overnight and then tomorrow i can work on sewing the textblock!"

late on the 23rd, after lots of babysitting and using at least one cartridge of every color ink in my printer, the print job was finally done. (my sweet and lovely cat wants SO BADLY to hunt and stalk the printer while it is printing -- more specifically, the printed pages, i think because they tend to make noise and move and then STOP moving. for this reason, the printer is kept in the craft room, because the cat can be shut out of the craft room and thus prevented from chewing on the pages when i have an all-day book printing job going. unfortunately the craft room was also being pressed into service as a guest room at the time so 80% of the floor space was consumed by an air mattress which i had to repeatedly trip over in order to reach the printer and replace the ink cartridges.)

then i went to my parents' house on the 24th and 25th and apologized to my dad (again) for not having the book finished. but this worked out well because we finished putting together my awesome new book clamp:

(the feet still aren't done being painted so they're just dry-fit on for now but you can still clamp books in it and that's what matters!!)

i came home, sewed the textblock (french link stitch over four linen tapes, with sewn endbands made of variegated embroidery floss over linen cord, and kozo paper glued over the spine)

... and promptly realized i SHOULD HAVE PUT IN MORE OF A GUTTER because some of the text was getting reeeeeeal close to the spine. "it's fine!" i said. "i just have to make sure it lays flat!! what better time than to try out K118 binding, a technique i have literally never done before and which people on the bookbinding discord notoriously have a hard time pulling off first try! i even have tyvek tape for it!"

so it turns out that tyvek tape isn't actually tyvek with glue on it, it's tape FOR attaching pieces of tyvek TO EACH OTHER, which maybe i could have guessed if i'd done even the slightest amount of research or planning. at this point i think it was the 27th and i was still angling to get this thing done by new year's, so no time to order Actual Tyvek.

fortunately, i had ALSO received An Package in the mail with yarn for a totally unrelated knitting project... shipped in a tyvek envelope.

i peeled all the shipping labels and stickers off my tyvek envelope, cut that shit up, and glued it on there.

and THEN it was time for gluing on covers, which i thought was going to be easy because i had actually thought ahead and ordered materials (specifically acid-free museum board), except when i cracked open the box of museum board i decided i Didn't Like It because the surface was too soft and easily dented, so i glued onto it the too-thin board material i'd previously been using (so that the cardboard goes on the outside of the book). this worked super well (the cardboard stuff has a tendency to curl up from the glue moisture, but the museum board doesn't!) and i'll probably use it on other stuff in the future.

i thought the blue bookcloth i used was kind of boring but i showed my dad the available cloth options and he really liked it, so... what do you know? i cut the piece i used on the back cover very slightly too short but it wound up being covered by the leather, so you can barely tell.

and the leather... a scrap just baaaaarely big enough from my bag of leather scraps from discount fabrics... and this the first time i'd ever attempted to put leather on a book... AND YET the only complaint i have is that i didn't manage to put an even amount on the front and back. it's reasonably square and straight!! amazing!!

i am super super happy with how this project came out (especially given the number of problems i encountered) and oh my god check out how much the spine bends

AND, AS A NEW YEAR'S PRESENT, I FINALLY MANAGED TO GIVE IT TO MY DAD

[fraugwinska]

I LOVED IT AAAAAA COULD U DO A PART TWO THATS A LITTLE SMUTTY??? (I’m the anon who asked about the brat reader! :3)

Since not only you, but also the wonderful @sybilsmelodyonthewireless asked for it - who am I to deny you? ;>

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

(Un)Holy Tease

Ah, you loved the feeling of claws in your hair. A good night always started with claws in your hair. True, you had been especially annoying today – It had just been too long since Alastor had pulled you into his bed with this dominating, smug smile you craved, but you knew he denied you on purpose, finding wicked glee in your growing desperation. But two could play that game.

What tipped the scale – you weren't sure. If you had to chose, you'd say it was when you refused to eat his freshly cooked dinner, his mom's prized Jambalaya of all things, because you ''didn't feel like it''. You knew that it would drive him mad, and you would've maybe felt bad if it wasn't the quickest - and safest - way into his sheets.

Alastor caged your mostly undressed self under him, his dress shirt open and with a dark smile on his lips.

„I said: Look at me, darling.“

You rose your chin a bit higher, as much as his firm grip in your hair allowed – the slight pain from it sent shivers down your spine. „I'm good, thank you.“

Your smile quickly turned into a gasp as he tugged hard on your scalp, forcing your face to turn to him.

„A little mouthy today, are we?“, he purred, slowly scraping the inside of your thighs with his free hand. You felt the inhuman urge to tilt your hips, to guide his traveling finger to where you wanted them to be, but you refused to give in that easily. „Do you really think you get what you so clearly want with that little attitude of yours?“

You gripped the sheets beneath you, just to stop yourself from grabbing his shoulders and pull him onto you. Patience, you reminded yourself, work him until he's ready.

„Who says I want anything from you?“, you say decidedly casual, blinking up to him, registering with delight his little snarl and the glimmer of frustration in his eyes. He lowered himself, you could feel his hot breath on your collarbone as his hand traveled up, up, up to your heated core, just halting before actually touching the already wet fabric.

„Your body betrays you, pet.“, he chuckled, tilting his head to inhale your scent. You almost slip, letting your hands free from the grip on the bed sheets to touch him just a bit, but he is quicker than you, catching your wrists and pinning them above your head with the help of his shadow companions. „You were most unruly today, but I'll overlook your little tantrums... if you beg for it.“

Your body bent and tensed like a hunters bow, you forced yourself to not moan at his words. The tightrope you walked on got thinner and thinner. Just a bit more.

„Make me.“

A low growl accompanied the tear of your lace panties, before his arm snaked to your back and around your waist, flipping you on all fours. He pressed your shoulders down into the mattress, keeping your ass up in the air. One of his long digits swiped violently through your soaked slit, flicking your clit in the most cruel, delicious way. You bit your tongue, quieting the whine that wanted to escape. Almost there.

“So defiant. What a naughty girl you are.” Another swipe, another flick, slower this time, agonizingly slow. Thank god you could bury your face in the fabric, because this time a moan was unpreventable. But he heard it, as he always did, and it encouraged him, his sharp tip rounding your pearl, once, twice, three times, with just the right intensity. Then he stopped.

The pressure disappeared, and so did his finger.

Even though you were prepared, it still left you cold and empty, making you draw a heavy sigh of frustration.

“I do hate to repeat myself, dear. But alas, once more: If you want me to continue... beg.”

“Please...” you pressed through your teeth, shaking from the loss of contact, the anticipation setting your skin on fire.

“Hm? What was that? Use your pretty, little mouth, darling, and speak up.”

The cocky, saturated tone of his voice made you almost come on the spot. You took a deep, trembling breath, your lungs burned with impatience.

“Please, Alastor, please with sugar on top. Just fuck me already.”

The touches returned, oh so sweetly and forcefully, it made you choke on your own breath. His thumb swirled around your sensitive bud while two of his fingers pumped, in and out, filling the humming room with unholy, squelching sounds. Your face, still pressed into the covers of his bed, flushed as you started to pant softly, keeping your mewls to a minimum. You still had a little fight in you.

His hand raked from your shoulders down your spine, sharp tips drawing prickling lines on your back. He tuttet at you, but you heard the growing lust when he spoke. “Such filthy words. Since you decided to behave like such a spoiled brat today, I shall treat you just as one.”

Fuck yes. You heard the ruffle of fabric, the clatter of a belt buckle. To seal the deal, you put everything what was left of your smug confidence in your next words, knowing you wouldn't be able to speak coherently in the foreseeable future either way.

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

The answer was a single thrust, deep and without mercy. Your breath hitched in your throat, he filled you to the brim, making your eyes water and your mind ecstatic. With no time to adjust, he started to move, quick, assaulting snaps of his hips, pushing deeper and deeper into you. His hands with firm grip on your waist, he pushed you to and away from him, while his shadows, wicked things that they were, pulled your constricted wrists up over your head so far your upper body rose from the bed and hung in mid-air.

“You'll take everything I give you, and you'll thank me for it, darling.” His husky voice was filled with buzzing white noise. You tried to answer, but the new position made him hit all the right spots, the only thing audible were your mindless moans.

A loud clap and the instant burn on your ass made you yelp in pain and pleasure.

“Come on, darling, say it.”

In between the heavy panting, you managed to breathe a strained “t-thank you...”, just before another smack hit your already sore cheek. Combined with his unrelenting thrusts, this was the most delectable torture. “T-thank y-you.”, you sobbed, feeling the familiar tightening, that sweet pressure in your midst rising, ready to pop.

“There's my good girl...” Alastor purred, picking up speed, his claws deep in the flesh of your hips. “Now cum, darling.”

Everything happened at once – stars before your eyes, walls clenching around his still throbbing member, a long, loud, relieved cry that sounded like his name, a kiss on your sweat-covered neck. You felt him thrusting a few times more before warmth coated your insides, and you felt his weight slumping on your back. Together, you fell forward into the messed up sheets as the shadows tenderly let your wrists go, the only sounds your quiet humms of pleasure – like echoes of your moans – and his fizzzing and popping static noises.

He rolled off you onto his back and pulled you up his chest, his fingers raking through your ruffled hair. You felt happy, fulfilled and so deeply in love with this demon, taking a moment to lean into his soft caresses. But the night was still young, and – as you know – a good night always starts with claws in your hair.

“Mhh... is that all you got?”

[pawberri]

thank you for all the posts you've made, your takes are always so refreshing to hear.

I want to know your thoughts (if it's okay with you, you can also totally ignore this) about all the "men hate" I see online. like I (poc transmasc non-passing) get it, there are genuine societal gender problems. transmisogyny does exist-women face more challenges than men do. but it genuinely hurts when women, especially trans women, think it's funny/quirky to call men trash or say they want all men dead or whatever. idk I just am hoping someone else understands, you know?

There's a lot of nuances to this question. First, I just want to caution against focusing too much on trans girls as the perpetrators of this. A lot of the asks I get from trans men seem to really fixate on trans women as the perpetrators of hard line gender essentialism. I really think trans girls are not the main people we should be focusing on here. If a trans woman is saying this stuff, take the time to analyze her ideology outside of that pithy comment and consider how much trauma and how little power she has in the world. That said, trans women are affected by this kind of ideology just like us, and they rarely have the power to wield it against others in the way cis people can. I know it hurts to feel isolated by your own community, but that kinda gets into my second point.

Part of dealing with this is learning an impulse progressive cishet dude have had to get used to over the decade. Sometimes, "men are trash" or even "kill all men" are not literal phrases. They are things women say when they're in the throes of trauma to vent their frustration. "Men are trash" in particular is generally pretty lighthearted and used to complain when you have a bad date or something. You have to get used to analyzing what someone actually means and airing on the side of empathy. You, as a man, are the one with some amount of systemic power over that woman, so you are the one who needs to prove you are dedicated to not being a misogynist. The same thing happens when my friends say they hate white people. I have to assume they don't hate me given that I'm their friend, but that I still have some of the negative traits of whiteness. I need to care enough to be a good friend by being anti-racist and checking myself on my behavior. I need to be willing to prioritize their comfort over mine. That includes not becoming this meme:

Now that that's established, there ARE times when "all men are evil and should die" is an actual ideology. It's an ideology that hurts tons of minority groups before it hurts the most powerful, but it's also not really great if we assume it only hurts cishet white guys. Following it to its logical conclusion, it just proposes a reversal of oppression dynamics. This gender essentialism is a key part of radical feminism, trans exclusionary or not, but it leaks out of that community to general feminism all the time.

As a young person on Tumblr and Twitter, this deeply affected me. I internalized the idea that you can "just be a girl." It was repeated by some trans girls, but also a LOT of TME people. It was framed as trans inclusive, but it's trans inclusive in the way "political lesbianism" is lesbian positive. It posits gender as a moral choice that is completely up to the individual and unrelated to biology. It's the lazy version of "gender is a social construct." I felt sick and disgusting for wanting to be a boy because tons of well-meaning friends of mine had made it clear that "being a boy" was a choice, and it was the wrong one. "Boy" was a social category that could and should eventually be eradicated. Trans women were conditionally supported because they, in theory, made this future possible. This didn't amount to actual support, of course. It was an ideology mostly spread by afab queer people that mostly benefited afab queer people. There were a few trans girls who spread it, maybe some due to genuinely believing in the ideology and some due to social pressure, but there were also a lot of people straight-up grifting as trans girls who used this thinking to feel powerful in a niche community of teens. Remember fucking Yandere Bitch Club???

At a certain point, I genuinely thought of being a man as an unambiguous moral failing, and I lashed out at out trans men because of it. I wanted to feel powerful, and here was a type of man in my community I could shame and exclude. I still feel bad for making a bunch of ~girls only~ stuff in HS that excluded the one out trans dude at our school, my friend, because he was just a ~binary man~ and leaving him with no friends and no community. I treated transphobia like it wasn't a real oppression on its own and, in doing so, perpetuated transphobia. It happens a lot.

I wasn't really able to accept that there was nuance to the concept of manhood until I read this article while struggling to accept my own gender:

This is a pretty seminal piece of writing. It has its flaws, of course, but the empathy and intersectionality it highlights was life-changing. It also shows that this kind of thinking is largely perpetuated by TME people and hurts trans women greatly.

Gender essentialism is a bad ideology, it's a transphobic, transmisogynist, racist, etc etc ideology. It's literally essential to patriarchy. But it's also very easy to repackage into leftism and easy to dogwhistle. As a result, it's natural to be hesitant when you see someone saying they hate all men, but you have to tread extremely lightly and actually care what they're attempting to express. Because, yeah, men as a social class still hold power over women. They still have reason to fear and hate men.

I'm writing a comic about this stuff, actually, so look out for it in the future..........

[nonotnolan]

The Ends Justify The Means

As always, this February story is dedicated to my valentine, @mergeman

"Okay, but did we have to add him to the Hivemind?" Jordan said, looking at his unconscious boss with a look of resigned disappointment. "If I end up with an old man's vocabulary because of him, I'm gonna be so upset. This body looks too good to sound like a geezer." He tossed his shirt to the ground and gave me a flex. "See what I mean?"

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Some humans stress-tested my 40% Free Will rule, and Jordan was definitely one of them. "One, bringing him into the Collective is the only way to bend his authority to our will. Two, the symbiote doesn't change our speech, it just enhances our knowledge. And three, the eventual goal is to overtake most of humanity anyway. We were gonna have to add Shaun sooner or later."

Jordan nodded, though I doubted he was paying any attention me. He was one of the part-time workers I had converted within the past two hours, and so his symbiote half was still checking out his new body. I can't blame it, I suppose.

I wasn't sure this plan was even going to work, so I was glad we managed to succeed. Capturing the part-time college students who worked here had been easy-- a bit of flirting from a tempting body, a kiss to introduce the symbiote, rinse and repeat. Shaun had been much more difficult. We had to resort to ambushing him in the bathroom where there we no cameras. Jordan's strength held him in place while I pried open his jaw to insert the new symbiote. It was far from elegant-- Shaun was stronger than he looked-- but at least it worked.

Shaun finally opened his eyes, and looked at me with a wry grin. "Alright, sir. I know we have a lot to talk about, but let's retreat somewhere else, shall we? It's cramped in here, and I think Jordan is a few moments away from whipping his dick out."

"You're not wrong," I said, shaking my head. "We should probably leave him to it. If nothing else, it will be nice to talk things over someplace a bit... less pungent. I assume you know what is going to be expected of you?"

"I do," Shaun says, crossing his arms. "Although I was hoping to talk to you about that one. I scheduled Darren to work Valentine's Day because I haven't had that day off for the past three years. This body's wife is threatening to make life miserable if I still have to work the holiday despite my recent promotion. I have a proposal for you."

I smiled at the audacity of this symbiote. Clearly its host body had a lot of confidence.

"Darren will still get the day off, of course," Shaun said. "But instead of working the day myself, I'll just tell Jenn that she's going to have to handle the shift solo. We don't need two store managers tomorrow night-- no one goes furniture shopping on Valentine's."

----------------------------------------------

"You'll never guess what happened today!" Darren said, greeting me when I arrived home. He and I had been dating for a few weeks now, ever since I was granted control over this host body. Unlike the symbiotes who were mostly extensions of my mind and my personality, I had full control and full autonomy over my decisions. Coming out of the closet was one of the first changes I made to this host's former life.

"Your store is actually closing for a holiday?" I guessed, walking up to him and hugging him from behind. I held him close, feeling the heat of his body against my borrowed chest. Humans were very big on physical contact, and it was a ritual I was more than happy to join.

Darren chuckled as he turned around for a quick kiss. "Okay, so it wasn't a miracle. But it was still pretty crazy! Shaun texted me, and approved my vacation time for tomorrow. Can you believe that? I've never known him to change his mind like that before."

I just smiled at him. "Maybe your District Manager yelled at him about it? You did submit that request a few months ago." As much as I hated feeding white lies and omitted facts to my boyfriend, I couldn't justify telling him my full truth this early in the relationship. Anyway, the only way I'd be filling him with a symbiote would be if we broke up and he posed a risk to my secret. I wanted a relationship with an equal, not a masturbatory fling with a clone of myself. Anyway, what was the phrase? The ends justify the means.

"Well, maybe." He paused a few minutes to consider this possibility before shrugging his shoulders. "I don't know, and I'm not going to question it. I'm just glad you kept those dinner reservations! I'm looking forward to tomorrow's date!" He smiled, and I could feel my heart melting. I would do anything in my power to make him happy.

[fever-project]

I’m not DEAD, Daniel (2904 words) by FeverProject Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, Danny Phantom Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Danny Fenton & Wild (Linked Universe) Characters: Danny Fenton, Wild (Linked Universe), the rest of the LU gang are also there but they aren’t important Additional Tags: This isn’t crack but it sure is silly, very much so for me, Ghost King Danny Fenton, Tired Danny Fenton, Wild (Linked Universe) is a Little Shit, might be ooc hopefully not, Misunderstandings, just a little bit Summary: DPxLU crossover because I couldn’t help myself. Surprised I didn’t do this earlier considering gestures at my everything Wild has an encounter with the Ghost King. It is definitely an experience.

Uhhh fanfic, yeah. I’m going to explode. Art

Enjoy 👍

▼

Wild was bored. Which wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence, but it was one that he hated. It was night time now and he was supposed to be asleep, just like everybody else in the inn. But he wasn’t like everybody else, he already slept for 100 years straight, sleeping was only useful to him if and when he wanted to be more healthy. And sleeping every night was generally considered to be healthy, but Wild didn’t care, he needed to move.

Out the window he went, quiet as a mouse. Hopefully no one would notice he was gone, and that he would be back before morning came. But there was an entire forest nearby to explore, and he felt like he could-no, should explore to his heart’s content. The wilderness called to him, beckoned him in. That’s what he kept repeating to himself in his mind anyway, as a way to reassure himself, that as a hero who had saved Hyrule, sneaking out at night and potentially worrying the other heroes wouldn’t be a stupid thing to do. Zelda would’ve thought otherwise, and he knew that, but tried not to think about it too much.

The forest was mostly quiet, save for things like the chirping of birds and crickets. The faint rustling of trees was like music to his ears. There was a light breeze, which felt nice against his face as he ventured further into the forest. He tried his best to walk in as straight of a line as he could, to more easily find his way back. He really wished his Sheikah Slate worked properly in this time, maps made everything much easier. But then he would have to go searching for those towers, and while as fun as they were to activate, took up far too much time, much more than he and his group were currently willing to spare.

Wild was suddenly on edge. That odd shapeshifting, Lizalfos-looking, portal opening thing was still out there. Not to mention the black-blooded monsters that thing infected. Wild sighed as walked, now paranoid and frustrated. After a few moments of that, he finally gained enough brain cells to figure out that he should probably head back. With another sigh, which was more of a groan, he spun on his heel, turning around to make his way back to the inn.

Soon enough, something in the air…shifted, he couldn’t tell what. An oddly familiar yet unnatural feeling enveloped his senses as the sky started to turn into an odd shade of pinkish purple. The few clouds up in the sky, only a slightly lighter shade than the sky itself, swirled around above him, as the space in front of him split. Wild felt his heart drop and his breath leave his body as the rift continued to grow. Green glowing light bleed out from it, lighting up the trees and grass and him. Something was happening, something bad, and it was targeting him. He stumbled back, he had to, he had to get away and yet. And yet. It was calling to him. It was scaring him, the world behind the rift hated and loved him all the same.

Wild had to escape.

Wild tried to breathe, in and out, slowly, calmly, he looked for a way out. Trees, there were only trees and more trees and bushes and grass and even more trees-slowly, in and out, his breathing, his breath. He was alive, and he was going to make sure he would stay that way, bright green portal notwithstanding. The portal was growing bigger, quickly, but not as quick as Wild’s mind was when it was panicking. Maybe that meant that panicking was a good thing. Wild almost stopped panicking completely once he realized how stupid that thought sounded. His panic swiftly returned when a white boot stepped out of the portal. When matching white gloves also came out, Wild went to get out his sword and shield, fumbling with his slate as the person emerged from the rift, it closing behind them soon after.

“Excuse me?” The person asked, their words 

echoing, despite the conditions for that to logically happen simply not existing here. Wild stiffened, having only gotten his sword out. But he knew deep within his soul that it wouldn’t be very effective against the higher being standing before him. Yet his grip tightened despite that. He wouldn’t run away, not now, he would try his best to fight this being off if he had to. And if that failed, he would retreat, tactically.

The being was dressed in an odd black and white outfit, having tan skin and white hair. Their bright green eyes, glowing body, and their crown that was literally on fire were very clear signs that this person wasn’t anything he’s seen before. Not to mention the hovering. And the portal they just came out of. And the weird voice-and Wild needed to start focusing on the situation at hand.

The being raised their hands up defensively, “Hey, put down the sword, I’m not looking for a fight,” they said, “I’m just. Looking for someone, yeah.”

“Uh huh,” Wild dumbly nodded, keeping his eyes on them.

“Right, okay, let me just-“ they looked around, suspicious at their surroundings, “-okay, don’t tell anyone you saw me, or that you saw this. Actually, it doesn’t matter, forget what I just said.”

Wild nodded again, watching as a ring of light came out of their waist, enveloping them as they donned a more hylian appearance. They had even odder clothes on in this form, baggy and worn. Their skin was paler and their hair was pitch black. They looked like death in the form of a teenage boy.

“Are you Death?” Wild asked blatantly. Listen, he was curious, he need to know this. The being raised an eyebrow at him, confusion evident on his face. “Like,” Wild scrambled to rationalize his less than rational thought process, “I don’t know, you seem scary? And corpse-like? Are you dead? Am I dead-well, no, I can’t be dead, that would be silly, ha. But are you?”

“Well I am the Ghost King, king of ghosts,” they said plainly, with a shrug, “Name’s Danny, Danny Phantom, and that’s really all you know about that. Listen-“

“Aren’t you like, twelve?” Wild knew they probably weren’t twelve, but this ‘Ghost King’ guy looked pretty young.

“What? No! I’m not twelve, I’m like-“ they pouted, like a twelve year old, snapping their fingers in thought, “older than you!”

“Oh yeah, I’m-“ Wild stopped, wondering if it would be smart to tell the Ghost King that he’s technically one hundred and seventeen years old. “I am at least seventeen! And I look like it as well.”

“You’re the same height as me.”

Wild looked at the ghost, glared at them, walking a bit closer to them. He placed his hand on top of his head and moved it forward, towards the Ghost King’s head. His hand brushed against their hair, but it clearly didn’t reach the top of their head. Wild grinned, well, wildly at the sight of being taller than them. They looked unimpressed.

“You’re the one acting like a twelve year old you know,” Danny scoffed, pouting.

“Says the pouter.”

“Look, can you just help me find this guy, since you’ve clearly calmed down now.”

“And why should I?”

“I’ll make your afterlife terrible otherwise.”

“Fine, I’ll help, gosh,” Wild was probably going to help anyways, he liked helping people. He just wanted to be annoying. “So, who and why?”

“Great! So, I’m looking for this guy named Link,” oh no, “Clockwork-he’s a time ghost, don’t worry about him-told me that he was hoping around other times with other guys also named Link.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well-okay, you’re annoying so I’m just going to ignore that-“

“Time isn’t real.”

The two stared at each other, and Wild both wanted to punch himself in the face, and thought he was the funniest man alive. Danny seemed to think the same way too, with their bewildered expression suddenly turned into one holding back a lot of laughter.

“Al-alright, that was good I’ll give you that,” they chuckled, “Anyways, I’m looking for this specific Link because they’re supposed to dead, and I’m supposed to like-do something about that. I think I have a picture of this guy that Clockwork gave me, hold on.” They stuffed their hand through their goddess forsaken chest, and rummaged around like their own body was a mere storage container. Wild was instantly jealous of them. Sure he had his Sheikah Slate, but it wasn’t a part of his body.

Wait, Danny had a picture of him. Oh no, they were going to kill him. He didn’t need them to say word for word that they were going to kill him, but Wild didn’t know what else they could do to him. He needed to be on his toes and hone his quick reflexes in order to survive this ordeal.

“Annnd-nope, that’s my thermos-here it is!” They pulled out a piece of folded paper, and just as they started to unfold it, Wild snatched it from their hand and shoved it into his mouth.

“Wha-WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!” Danny shrieked, hands on the side of his head, horrified.

“‘Cause,” Wild responded in a muffled voice, chewing the paper. Tasted inky.

“Okay, you are definitely the weirdest person I’ve ever met, an I know a ghost who whole personality is boxes, just boxes. Actually, I don’t think he’s that weird compared to some other fruitloops I know of-but that doesn’t matter, spit that out!”

“No.”

“You are acting like a twelve year old-no, even twelve year olds wouldn’t do this, you’re five.”

Wild gasped, photo smushed to the side of his mouth, in between his cheek and teeth so it wouldn’t fall out.

“You’re just mad I’m right.”

“Nah uh!”

“Then how about you spit that out, like a normal, seventeen-you’re seventeen right?” Wild nodded, “Right, like a normal seventeen year old would, or I’ll phase it out of your mouth by force.” Wild did not like sound of that. So he spit out the photo, the slobbery mess falling onto the grass. Even Wild was grossed out by what he had done. Danny clearly was.

“You’re going to have to unfold that yourself, I’m not touching that,” Danny looked sick.

“Yeah, that’s fair, I’ll do that,” why wasn’t the paper metal, then he could use his Sheikah Slate to pick it up. Good thing he had some spare gloves stored in it, so it was fine, it’s fine. He started to unfold the paper, Danny peering over his shoulder, both with matching disgusted expressions. Wild was right about the contents of the drawing. His face, blast scars and all, was right there. Wild looked at Danny. Danny looked at him. Wild wanted to punch them in face and run off, but they are a ghost. But Wild still slowly raised his free hand into a fist, retaining eye contact.

Danny began to speak, “So-“ Wild swiftly punched them in their face, and skittered backwards, trying to look for a way back to the inn safely. The ghost had stumbled back, clutching their face in pain.

“Huh, so you can punch ghosts,” Wild noted.

“You can definitely punch this ghost,” Danny rubbed their hurt nose, “Didn’t even get me a chance to speak.”

“Please don’t kill me.”

“I’m not going to kill you, that’s not what I’m here for.”

“Oh.”

“Bet you feel stupid now, don’t ya?”

“A little bit, yeah.”

Danny sighs, pinching their nose, not in pain this time, but annoyance. “So,” they started again, “what I’m trying to do is get you on the ‘Supposed to be Dead but Came Back Anyways’ census. Basically, the name’s a work in progress.”

“And…I’m supposed to do something about it?”

“Kinda? Look, just sign here, and I’ll get out of your hair.” They pulled out another piece of paper out of their chest, with already had a few other names on it in neat little boxes. Wild couldn’t read any of those names, but Danny probably could.

Wild’s face scrunched up, trying to think about what he should do next. They hadn’t really explained their reasoning for any of this, so he still didn’t trust them too much. Maybe this was some elaborate ruse to kill him.

“Will me signing this ‘census’ give me any benefits-will it give you any benefits?” Wild pointed accusingly at Danny.

“Well, are you dead?”

Wild groaned, “I��m not DEAD Daniel,” Wild threw his hands into the air in frustration, “Just use your stupid ghost words to explain to me what I need to do and why.”

“Okay,” Danny squeaked out, “But first off, name’s just Danny.”

“Uh huh.”

“And secondly, I’m doing this because there’s a bunch of ghost legal jargon where your name was already listed on both the ‘dead,’ and then also the ‘not dead’ list after you came back to life. You signing this will help fix that.”

“…Aren’t I time traveling right now?”

“Yes, but it’s still good to note down who had came back to life. Please just make my life easier, this is themost stress inducing part of my job I’ve ever done.”

Wild was starting to feel a bit bad now. So now, with a better understanding of the situation, he took the paper from Danny’s hands.

“Here’s a pen to write with,” Danny gave him a pen from their chest.

“Can all ghosts store stuff in their bodies?” Wild asked as he wrote down his name in the next free box, adding on his title of ‘Hero of the Wild’ in the same box, just to specify things.

“No, but I sure can,” they said with a big smile.

“That’s so cool.”

“I know.”

The two laughed a bit as Wild returned the paper and pen to Danny.

“Well, sorry for not explaining my motivations fully, I’m a bit…tired, ha ha,” Danny rubbed the back of their neck, clearly embarrassed.

“Yeah. Sorry for punching you.”

“Now I’m going to go take a nap. Or sleep for once.” A ring of light enveloped Danny yet again, returning him to his more ghostly form. Then he turned around and held out his hand, before cutting the space there, opening the bright green portal.

“See you in the Ghost Zone, Link! Eventually!” They waved as they stepped into the rift.

Wild waved back, “That sounds pretty ominous, but okay!” Danny laughed at that as he went all the way through, the portal closing soon after. Now Wild was left all alone in the woods.

He needed to get back to the inn.

It took him some time, but he eventually found his way back to the inn. In through the window, as quiet as a ghost, he was back in his room. He flopped down onto his bed, mentally exhausted. He would’ve rather been bored than have had dealt with…whatever that was. Not really, but Wild was certainly ready to go to sleep now, and pray that he wouldn’t have to meet that Ghost King ever again. Not because he was scared, but because he was a bit embarrassed about what happened. He acted a bit stupid there. But none of that mattered now. All that Wild had to do now, was to sleep.

ー

“Has anyone seen the champion yet?” Time asked, looking over the group that were all hanging around the inn’s dining room.

“Nope,” Warriors said with a pop, “He’s likely still asleep.”

“But I’m hungry,” Wind whined, “Captain, do you know how to cook?”

“I know how to make things edible and nutritious,” Wars plainly answered, receiving a few groans from various Links.

“We could just have the food they serve here,” Twilight suggested.

“Champ’s better,” Four retorted.

“How about we all wait a bit longer,” Time said, “It hasn’t even been half an hour since we woke up after all.”

They all muttered their agreements, and choose to occupy themselves with taking count of their resources for the time being. A few more minutes passed before Legend noticed something.

“Hey guys, I think I see the champ coming down right now,” Legend pointed at the staircase, and the other heroes scrambled to see their resident chef stumbling down the stairs.

“Are you doing alright?” Hyrule asked.

“You seem exhausted,” Sky added.

“Ye-yeah,” Wild yawned, stretching his arms, “Ghost problems and all that stuff.” He set out to make some food for his companions, who were looking at him with confusion and concern.

“Ghost problems?” A few of them asked at once.

“Is this place haunted?” Wind looked around with an excited grin on his face.

“Nope, but I sure got haunted in the woods out there,” Wild waved in the vague direction of where the forest was, “Now I’m going to make something to eat, want some?”

Of course they wanted some, food was important. They continued to ask questions about the ghost, but Wild didn’t answer, he didn’t feel like it. Maybe in like, two days he would. But for now, he just wanted to eat some Vegetable Risotto, maybe with a few Endura Carrots thrown in as well. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to deal with that Ghost King again anytime soon. At least, hopefully not before this time traveling adventure ends.

[percheduphere]

LET'S TALK ABOUT MOBIUS'S HEAVY KEYS

I wrote a meta on S1 Mobius here, mostly exploring his interrogation persona and emotional trajectory toward S1E6. I also have a fun little list on all the things I love about him here.

@mitromana posted about how we should talk about Mobius's sass and even cruelty more. @wowwwmobius posted how Mobius realistically would not be doing well post-S2E6 (I wholeheartedly agree), and they and @inwantofamuse shared amazing comments. All of this inspired this meta.

Thank you @mitromana @wowwwmobius @inwantofamuse!

Mobius's interrogation scenes are him at his most cruel and ruthless. The flipside of being a highly empathetic person is that it is very VERY easy to use this skill in highly abusive, cunning, and powerful ways. This is especially true if the person armed with this skill is exceptionally intelligent and is convinced their motivations are good. At the TVA, before Loki's exposure of the truth, Mobius is both of these things. Worse, he has access to the TVA's more ethically unconscionable technology, which he does not hesitate to use.

The road to evil is paved with good intentions. Mobius strolls onto this road more than once, but he manages to not stay on it because two people curb this risk: Loki and, yes, Sylvie.

Take in Loki's words and posture in this scene. The words alone are a frail and weak comeback for a silver-tongue God of lies. They do nothing but reveal Loki is in FACT scared. His arms are crossed tightly over his abdomen, a primal protective response. He's leaned as far away from Mobius as possible. This is the best Loki can come up with in the face of a boring man in a boring suit, really?

You can see why Mobius was moved into the position of Analyst from Hunter. He may not be able to prune children, but he can literally bring a God like Loki to the ground, breathless, confused, and frightened, with nothing more than WORDS. And this is with a variant Mobius likes. Imagine what he can do to a variant he hates.

For HWR and Ravonna's purposes, Mobius is the perfect weapon to get whatever they want out of whatever variant they capture before sending them off to get pruned. How do they keep him from questioning anything?

Memory-wiping (more than once), brainwashing, propaganda, and:

A little something for Mobius's identity, something that fulfills his intrinsic need to take care of others while also gently stroking his ego.

Yes, the genocide of multiple timelines over the span of eons is horrifying. But Mobius is capable of being complicit with it as long as his environment feeds his intrinsic psychological and emotional needs. The people on the Sacred Timeline become his new children, and he will do anything ANYTHING to protect them.

There was one thing HWR and Ravonna didn't anticipate: that this man's empathy for a specific Loki would be the very thing that liberates the multiverse and his own bondage from a corrupt bureaucracy.

However...

I don't believe Mobius ever anticipated becoming emotionally compromised when he advocated on Loki's behalf. He likely genuinely believed that after centuries of studying Loki, he knew him well enough to make him useful for the TVA. But the subconscious, oh. That is a different story, and in Loki's own words, Mobius has a gift for lying to himself.

I discuss the interrogation scene and Sif loop scene in depth here, so I won't repeat myself, but I'd like to draw our attention to the 2 gifs below, framing my analysis:

Imagine where Mobius's mind must be at:

I spent centuries studying you and believing in you. I waited more centuries for your nexus event to come. I tasked every hunter to inform me of your arrival immediately, no matter what I was doing, no matter where I was. I abandoned a case. I ran to your trial. I put my job, reputation, and eons-long friendship with Ravonna on the line. I tested your theory. I brought you with me on the field. You talked to me. You challenged me. You made me proud. You made me laugh.

I gave you daggers and you stabbed me. You STABBED me. When all I wanted to give you was--

Mobius cracked hard and fast. Applaud Owen Wilson for THIS interpretation of the script and THIS delivery.

Thankfully, the very person who put Mobius in this fragile state of mind is also the person Mobius deeply wants to believe in. Even after being betrayed, Mobius still wants to believe in Loki and his capacity to be a wonderful person. And so he looks at Ravonna's TemPad, decides Loki deserves to be with whoever he wants to be with (even if that person will never be Mobius himself), frees Loki to help him save the woman he loves, and gets pruned for it.

Mobius survives thanks to plot-armor. And who is the first person he meets?

The bane of his existence.

And Sylvie wastes no time driving a knife into a very fresh wound. Mobius, however, only recently unleashed all his rage. His reservoir for compartamentalizing has refreshed, so he can take Sylvie's truth bravely, without a flinch, and acknowledge that truth with one of his own.

Mobius owns it. He doesn't deny it. He tacitly agrees with her and gives her a reason why.

We should remember how dangerous Mobius can be. He is currently sitting in a car with the variant he is most likely to hate. Sylvie is strong, clever, and resilient, but her ability to regulate her emotions is weak, especially if she is triggered. Mobius can destroy her very easily with his words.

But Mobius can't hate her. He can't. She was right and he was wrong, but most importantly Loki loves her.

He won't hurt the person Loki loves most. No. He will take her to him instead. He can stomach the pain, the disappointment. He's good at that. Loki's well-being, his happiness, comes first.

In fact, Mobius stomachs Sylvie's knife twists a second time and chooses not to defend himself. I don't doubt a large part of him agrees with her. Nevertheless, he can't help but hope Loki might stand up for him in that moment. He tries, and fails, to make light of it by rolling his eyes and turning to his friend. When Loki leaves him not explaining why, his true feelings about this interaction surfaces on his face.

Aren't you going to say anything?

The saddest thing is that this is the LAST intimate moment THIS Mobius has with Loki before Loki crosses the gangway and never returns. This is it. This is what he's left with: the thought Loki didn't care enough to defend him and Loki leaving.

HE doesn't get to hear that he's just trying to see in the dark and is doing everything he can to keep the surviving timelines alive. SYLVIE does.

HE doesn't get to hear Loki tell him he saved his life. DON does.

HE doesn't get the final goodbye and "thank you, Mobius", his PAST SELF does. And if Mobius happens to remember this moment in the present, he will know that he was the one who propelled Loki to bear this massive burden ALONE.

My worry for Mobius post-S2E6 is that he is more than talented at ignoring his own needs and addressing his own problems. He is infinitely better--a master, even--at taking care of anyone else. It's a devastating flaw, but it comes from a very raw place:

His heart, his soul, will always remember being a single parent.

Being a parent at all is hard to begin with. There are only so many hours in a day, and the majority of it is devoted to putting someone else's needs before your own. Being a single parent is even harder. You might have a few people to help you, but ultimately, there's no partner to share every high and low intimately. To be a single parent of not one but TWO children?

Game over.

Some viewers have interpreted Don ignoring his sons' phone calls at work as negligent. Honestly, I don't think that's the case. He will call them back. Don is Mobius and Mobius is Don. He will take care of them. But refusing every beck and call at work is the only personal boundary he has. He cannot have many boundaries for himself at home or anywhere else. He has to decline not one but two calls for his own sanity. Nevermind that he works Monday through Saturday, nine to five, to make enough money to keep them healthy and happy. Where is the break? There is none. This is Don's glorious purpose.

Mobius leaving the TVA is understandable for two crucial reasons: One, it is a reminder of all his horrifying acts and complicity. Two, it is a reminder Loki is no longer there. But by leaving the TVA, Mobius separates himself from his only support system. That's not good. That is decidely unhealthy. The fact that it doesn't cross B-15, Casey, or OB's minds that this is a very bad idea tells you everything you need to know about the number of genuinely close friends Mobius has.

Mobius has two. He walked away from one to be with the second, and the second walked away from him, too. TWICE.

But he still loves him anyway.

When you take a man like this and take away everything that's kept him functional: the TVA, Ravonna, Loki, and then show him a content life in which he cannot even be with his own children because another version of him already exists, what do you think will happen to him given we've seen how violently Mobius can snap?

And guess what: only one person has ever seen Mobius snap on more than one occasion. Only one person understands the triggers and how to handle them. I'll give you three guesses as to who it is.

Mobius "has a happy ending" is absolute bullshit. He is at risk.

[ohsalome]

the intention of comparing the reaction to Palestine vs Ukraine is typically not to criticize Ukrainian victims of war. The criticism is directed at American spectators, because the people in power here are insanely anti Palestinian but have made overtures to help Ukraines resistance efforts despite comparable situations. Regular citizens also mostly support Ukraine but many hate Palestinians. People are just comparing palestine to Ukraine as a point of reference to try to make those people understand.

As kindly as possible, I do not think you can educate people out of islamophobia by appealing to their conscience, at the very least because if they had one they wouldn't be islamophobic in the first place.

And when it comes to people in power, appealing to their empathy in the case with Palestine is fruitless because the help Ukraine got wasn't motivated by emotion either. I do not expect you to know the history of current russo-ukrainian war well, so you probably don't know that the western world was perfectly happy to watch russia roll all over us punishment-free as long as they felt that other "properly european countries" won't be involved. Russia has been butchering us since 2014, and nobody gave a fuck about it. Even during the first few weeks of the full-scale invasion NATO refused to send us any military help, because they expected us to fall and were okay with it.

The current support we have did not fall on us from the sky by the graceful kindness of "our american overlords" - it is a consequence of the cumulative effort of our diplomats, pre-existing agreements with NATO countries, and the economical ripples the full-scale war caused (Ukraine being one of the major world exporters of grain being one of the most relevant).

This is why, sadly Palestine cannot follow the Ukrainian scenario of foreign support. The surrounding circumstances of both of our wars are way to different, and while it is easy to ignore them while making simplistic quick-dopamine-hit posts on hellbr dot com, they do influence the real-world situation on the ground. Which is what posts like the one I replied to do - they create a no-nuance misinformed image of the war in Ukraine. Which amplifies the problem even more, because even though "most americans" can agree on a generic "war in Ukraine bad", their idea of what is going on here is hugely misinformed as it is. And this has harmful real-life consequences on which our very survival depends.

Look. I understand that the war between Palestine and Israel has been going on for decades. I understand that there are many contexts that are obvious to the people in the respective countries that I am oblivious to by the virtue of never being there and not speaking arabic nor hebrew. I understand that there is a lot of propaganda that I may accidentally spread out of my ignorance, and therefore I try to be careful to avoid doing so, out of respect to the people living there. So why is it too much to ask you to give the same respect to us?

Like I have said before, the biggest issue with that infographic post is that it spreads misinformation. In the simplest of terms, misinformation is bad. People are trying to do any smallest thing to help Palestinians - who are currently barely surviving in inhumanely horrifying conditions - and out of ignorance they are spreading anti-ukrainian propaganda. Downplaying the number of ukrainian victims (and, as a result, making russian war crimes look "not as bad") is anti-ukrainian propaganda. Making it seem as we are getting "too much american help" is anti-ukrainian propaganda, because USA is our biggest military exporter, and getting less ammo/vehicles/etc will have catastrophic effect on the amount of death.

Which is why am not staying silent on this, even if your collective intentions are noble and good. Because, I will repeat myself again, your intentions do not matter if the consequences of your actions are harmful. And if (a) comparing Ukraine and Palestine is uneffective; (b) it portrays your ignorance of either one or both of the wars; and (c) simultaneously with spreading support for the palestinian cause you are spreading harmful anti-ukrainian pro-russian propaganda, I do not think it is too much to ask you to stop.