#the end of july i think? i have a couple of weeks blocked off with nothing but it's my parents' birthdays so i wanna make sure i can

[b-blushes]

FRIDAY QUEST! - do friday cleaning - start new project (:

[strawberriesoup]

lollipop٠࣪⭑

── .✦ You make a deal with Jisung.

word count: 2.1k

genre: fluff, skater!jisung x female reader, friends to lovers, neighbor au

warnings: cursing, reader is kind of a brat, kissing, borderline making out, much fluff

taglist: @jisunggy

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Maybe this deal wasn’t such a good idea.

Your most recent obsession, Stardew Valley, had you begging Jisung to play just one game with you. planning to bug him into submission, you would bring up the game every chance you got. After about a week, he finally relented and agreed to play with you. On one condition. You had to let him teach you a trick on that goddamn skateboard of yours.

You from this morning had agreed. You from this morning was an idiot.

Now, you’re sweating your ass off on a dingy green park bench in the middle of July, chugging what little water you have left out of your regrettably small bottle. It had been what, three hours now? And you just couldn’t get the damned trick down. If you have to hear the words, “One more time! You were so close!” again, you might commit a war crime. The plastic of the bottle crinkles as you crush it and toss it towards the nearest trash can. You miss.

In an attempt to get Jisung’s attention, you sprawl your limbs obnoxiously over the length of the bench.

“You’re trying to kill me.” You groan, theatrically draping an arm over your face, “Your sick games won’t work forever.”

“Maybe if you weren’t such a whiner you would get the hang of it faster.” Jisung suggests helpfully as he successfully throws your bottle in the trash and takes a seat next to you, shoving your leg out of the way to make room. He’s sweaty as well, and proceeds to take over any space that is left on bench.

You are most definitely not thinking about how you would love to devour him whole right now. No, that would be silly.

Five years ago, Jisung moved into the neighborhood. Both of you being in freshman year of high school, it started with you two carpooling to school. Which turned into doing homework on the weekends. Which resulted in the two of you being permanently attached at the hip.

And the whole time, you’ve had the biggest, juiciest crush on him.

That little smirk when you’re teasing him? Smitten. When he raises his arms and you can see a sliver of that waist beneath the folds of his hoodie? Good lord. And don’t even get you started on his habit of running his hand through his hair.

But of course, you’re too much of a chicken to actually tell him about it. Besides, he probably doesn’t even like you like that, and you’re not about to make a fool out of yourself to find out.

“Well excuse me for not particularly enjoying having heatstroke. I’m done.”

Arms crossed, you challenge him to say something. Unfortunately, he’s gotten pretty good at dealing with your shit over the years.

In favor of a response, a pointed look is sent by Jisung, one eyebrow raised along with a just barely suppressed smile coloring his features. A bead of sweat rolls down the left side of his flushed face, suggesting that he’s probably just as warm and uncomfortable as you and he’s not complaining. Whatever. You’re still going to bitch about it.

“But you were almost there, I swear! Just one more time, pleasee?” Jisung pleads, widening his eyes and sticking out his lower lip. Not this tactic again. You hate it when he does that. He knows you can’t say no. It’s an unfair advantage.

Skateboarding with Jisung had been a nearly daily exhibition for around a year and a half now. Well, you say “skateboarding” but it really just consists of you riding to and from the convenience store at the end of the block every couple of days. Which you manage to do without falling over, thank you very much. Jisung was just a natural at it, always had been. You were, quite frankly, not.

You had never attempted a trick, content with simply watching Jisung in his element. There’s something theraputic about watching a master of their craft in action. Also you were scared of falling and breaking an arm again.

Fine. Fine. You’ll try one more time.

“Okay, one more time. But this is the last try, or I swear to God I’m going to feed your hamster to Bagel.”

Jisung grips the front of his shirt in mock offense at the threat, his gasps of, “You monster!” trailing you as you stomp off with your skateboard onto the open pavement.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Now remember, left foot on the back edge…”

A small breeze had started to pick up, alleviating some of your discomfort. The surrounding air was less stifling now, the wind bringing the scent of freshly cut grass to your senses.

What was this trick called again? A strawberry milkshake? It was one of the “easier” tricks, according to Jisung. If by “easy” he meant that it’s the mental equivalent to stepping on a lego, he was right on. This shit is hard.

The firm hold that Jisung’s hand currently has on your waist makes it even harder. He’s really not helping you focus on the task at hand.

With a deep breath, both in preparation for the trick and to quiet down the rushing of blood in your ears, you repeat the same motion you had been working on for the better portion of the afternoon.

Front foot off. Wrap around. Land.

By Jisung’s reaction, you would think you had won the lottery. He’s pumping both fists in the air and shouting, completely beside himself. You landed it! You really did!

You then proceed to wipe out on the pavement.

Yeah, that checks out.

As you’re brushing the fall from your pants, you are nearly bowled over by Jisung, who sweeps you up and spins you around in a tight hug. The rush of the breeze around you has you laughing breathlessly, holding on to him for dear life.

“Yes! Holy shit, see? I knew you could do it! That was awesome!” He sets you down, looking at you with beams of pride spilling from his crinkled eyes and heart-shaped smile.

“I did it! I finally did it!” You squeal, the adrenaline and genuine excitement of the moment taking control of your body as you bounce up and down, gripping his fingers as you do so.

The grin Jisung gives you is bright enough to light up even the darkest corners of the world, you’re sure of it. You want to keep him in your hands forever and never let go.

But, you do. After a minute of joint celebration, you inform him that you’re going to sit down for a minute to catch your breath.

Finding a nearby tree, you settle beneath its branches, eyes adjusting to the newfound shade. The grass is cool beneath your palms, calming your sun-kissed skin.

As you watch Jisung continue to skate you’re reminded of just how good at this he is. He navigates his skateboard like it’s as simple as walking, every one of his tricks are landed with precision and ease. His habit of biting his lower lip in concentration anytime he performs an air is doing nothing for your sanity though.

Your crippling sweet tooth prods at you, so you decide to reward yourself. Rustling through your bag, you pull out a lollipop, popping it into your mouth. Its tart sweetness bathes your tongue, and you cross your legs, humming contentedly as you resume your attention on Jisung.

After about ten more minutes, he’s jogging over to you with his skateboard in hand. Your heart noticeably picks up its pace. Stop that. Calm down.

Taking a seat next to you, Jisung runs his hand through his sweat-damp hair, one arm supporting his weight and the other coming to rest on his knee. He looks ethereal, skin glowing with the gentle brush of light falling from the tree above.

Then, without so much as a “hello”, the lollipop is yanked from your hand and held out of your grasp.

“Jisung, are you serious? Give it back!” You shout in exasperation at the loss of your sugar source. Is he seven years old? Who does that?

“Nuh-uh, what’s the magic word?” He stretches his arm away as you basically tackle him, reaching vainly for the candy.

“I’m not the one who should be saying please here!”

You have an idea. Grabbing the front of his shirt, you pull him towards you. This is definitely the dumbest thing you’ve done all week. But it’s too late now. You can see his eyes fly wide, trying to process the situation as you plant a kiss right on his lips. He’s soft. And warm.

When you pull away, you take the opportunity to snatch the candy back from Jisung’s now limp hand. Popping the sucker back into your mouth, you grin at him smugly. It worked.

Jisung sits there, unmoving. Lips slightly parted, he stares at you, his gaze shifting from your eyes, fluttering down to your lips, and back again. Shit, was that a bad idea? That was a bad idea. You probably should have asked first. What the fuck were you thinking?

Before you could blurt out any sort of apology, he’s grabbing your hand and the candy is pulled from your lips with a pop. It falls onto the cool grass below.

A shaking hand slots underneath your chin with barely suppressed eagerness and he pulls you to him, capturing your lips in a proper kiss. The heat from his body and the sweep of his breath over you are all-consuming. blocking out the world, save for him.

This. Him. Everything about it just feels… easy. Natural. The way he cradles your jaw firmly, but with a careful gentleness that is entirely and solely Jisung. The way his free hand drapes down your side, coming to rest on top of your hip. The way his lips move in perfect harmony with yours.

The tree’s rough bark presses against your back as he leads you backwards, the sweetness of the lollipop being traded between your mouths. A flame starts to burn in your chest, spreading like wildfire until your whole body is alight with the flicker of butterfly wings.

Drawing away to look at you, Jisung runs his tongue over his glistening lips.

He’s holding himself back. He wants nothing more than to consume you, your essence, everything. He wants to show you how much he cares. He also wants to suck every last drop of sweetness from your lips. But he won’t. Not yet. Not until he knows you want it as much as he does. But, God, you drive him crazy. His eyebrows pinch and he shakes his head, trying to clear it.

You feel the loss of his ministrations on you like a load of bricks. Wrapping a hand around the back of his head, you pull him onto you once more, wanting -no- needing more of him. He needs more of you too, as is evident by the way his hands tighten and by his quiet gasp of breath when you oh-so gently nip his lower lip, teasing him.

This time, you’re the one to pull away, giggling awkwardly as he squeezes his eyes shut, clearly attempting to pull himself together.

Peeking at you, he finally makes eyes contact, feeling the need to say something, anything.

“Wow…” Is all he manages out, and your giggles morph into full on laughter. You make a kissy face at him which earns you a shove to your shoulder, and Jisungs ears turning a bright red.

“Hey! Don’t make fun of me!” he complains, bringing out that pout of his again.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you say, patting his shoulder, “you’re just such a dork.”

With your side of the deal completed, it’s his turn to pay up. With the steadily setting sun lighting your way, Jisung accompanies you to your house after the silent agreement to play games now, sort out weird feelings later.

epilogue ─☆

As your game loads up, Jisung decides to sit on the couch as far away from you as possible, curling up and hunching over his respective screen. Occasionally, he glances up at you, looking like he just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Okay. What is he hiding.

You (with grace) crawl across the couch to him, taking a page from his book and snatching the switch from his hands. He yells and kicks you in protest, but not before you had seen his screen.

J.one J.one’s Farm

Day 9 of Winter, Year 3 124,196g

Hours Spent: 106

One hundred and six hours. Jisung had told you that he’d never heard of the game before, let alone played it, and had very begrudgingly agreed to humor you. This whole time he’d been playing it? Why didn’t he- oh.

Jisung looks up at you with a sheepish grin, having been caught in his little scheme.

“I just wanted you to skate with me- ow!” he exclaims, bringing up his hands in defense as you bonk him with the switch.

“Next time maybe just ask?”

“How would I have gotten my kiss then?”

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

cat got your tongue - Cole Caufield

Word Count - 3k

Requested - Yes a mutual dared me weeks ago to write a entire fic only about Cole Caufield's tongue.

Author's Note - thank you as always for reading. 💞🫶🏻 This literally took me forever to write because writers block is very real even when you love an idea, also I got this request back in the middle of July before anyone wants to come into my asks. I'm not sure if I like this ending, but that might just be me being my biggest critic.

Warnings - oral receiving but I think that's kind of obvious given the title of this fic. 🤣

Summary - Cole finally convinces you to come to one of his games, but what happens when all you can focus on is the way he sticks his tongue out during a celly.

Tonight was the first time that Cole has finally convinced you to come to one of his games. To be fair you did just meet the guy a month ago in a bar. Unlike Cole, you did not know everything when it came to hockey which could have been one of the reasons that you weren’t pressed on going as soon as Cole brought up the idea. But his constant insisting that turned into begging which was kind of hot finally got you here. In the back of a shared Uber with your friend who actually knows hockey and said she would tag along to explain what the fuck everyone is doing on the ice. At the end of the day trying to learn all the rules of a sport you never even watched was hard. 

Just to mess with Cole a little, you did purchase one of his jerseys which granted a lot of money. But your friend who came along with you to the game, insisted to “do it for the plot.” So here you both are, you in his jersey, entering the arena. Due to the amount of time it took to get through security, you weren’t able to be in your seat until after warm ups had already started. Your seat was center ice but a few rows back purely because you told Cole if he thought your ass was sitting front row at your first ever NHL game, you would simply walk out because you didn’t wanna accidentally end up caught on TV looking like someone who had no idea what was happening around her. 

As soon as Cole saw you, he skated over to the bench although you couldn’t see what he was doing talking to one of the trainers you assumed. He then skated over and started bouncing what looked like the nearest puck on his stick as many times as he could and then passing it over the glass. A fan tried to take it, but he shook his head no and pointed at you. Then he threw another one over for the little boy who was a couple seats down from you, before skating off continuing on with warmups. 

“Why was that kind of hot?” you whispered to your friend. 

“Wow who knew a basic white boy would have you down this bad?” she teased.

“Bitch shut up.” you said before you finally looked down at the puck. Cole must have asked the trainer for a marker and signed the puck before coming over. 

You look hot with my name on you. Meet me in the tunnels after the game. 

Deciding not to tell your friend about the message you look up to see Cole sitting on the bench now making direct eye contact with you as he watches you read his message. Nodding your head yes and mouthing ‘okay’, even from the other side of the arena the smile that spreads across his face is seen clearly from your seat. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cole was literally playing like his life depended on it tonight. Now granted you might not understand all the little detailed rules when it comes to hockey. But you knew an assist was a good thing, in period one alone Cole had 2 assists and something about the way that he got one knee skating for a celly with his tongue slightly sticking out. Something that is so simple, made you feel your stomach drop, getting more and more turned the second time he did it. 

During intermission, you and your friend went to the bathroom and maybe it was the 3 beers you consumed but somehow you both started joking around about what your friend calls “your new fetish Cole’s tongue.” Jokingly you stuck your tongue out ever so slightly. Not realizing in that millisecond your friend took a mirror selfie, your side to the mirror the famous ‘22’ on display with Caulfeild, sticking your tongue out ever so slightly with your butt teasingly pushed up. Honestly, you kind of looked hot in the picture and made a mental note to ask your friend to send the picture to you later. 

As the first intermission was about to end you just made it back to your seat. Cole was able to pull off another assist during the second period. Your friend who has been a fan of the Hubs her entire life told you that you're never allowed to miss a game again because if this was how the rest of the season was gonna go they might make it to the playoffs. All you could do was chuckle at her superstitious behavior. But stopped when the fans around her were agreeing with her when she told them this was your first ever game, Cole invited you and this is how he was playing. 

“Oh my god please stop. I don’t want my life to end on twitter. Y/B/F/N.” you begged, taking your hand and covering her mouth. She drunkenly agreed to stop and both of you turned your attention back to the game. Even when he wasn’t on the ice, your eyes couldn’t leave Cole. Every once in a while he would catch you staring at him and making a teasing face back at you, pecking his lips, or sticking his tongue out extra far in order to get an air sip of his water. Every time he did all you could think about was his tongue wrapping around the clit or lapping your pussy like it was on display right now for thousands to see. Every time he was on the bench and went to lick his lips you found yourself squirming in your seat. All your friend could do was roll her eyes at your behavior. 

Somehow you made it to the third period, but that’s when Cole scored a goal. You swear it was just to tease you, he skated past your section sticking his tongue out and wiggling it. “Fuck” you mumble to yourself. 

“Y/N there are children around. Stop ya nasty!” your friend says as she can’t help the laugh that escapes her. Your mind couldn’t stop thinking about sitting on top of Cole’s face or him on his knees with one of your legs over his shoulders. As you rolled your hips against his tongue dragged. - 

Suddenly your brain was brought back to real time as the final buzzer went off. Everyone around you cheered as the Habs won a shutout - which your friend just told you is what it’s called when the other team doesn’t score a single goal during a game. But to be perfectly honest you weren’t really paying attention to your friend explaining any more slang hockey terms, your eyes focused on Cole as he skated around the ice with his teammates celebrating. The crowd was going crazy as it was the only shutout in what seemed like a lifetime, you could feel the energy of the crowd as you felt your body slightly move with all the jumping fans around you. Cole finally looked over at you from center ice and smiled. He titled his head towards the tunnels slightly reminding you of the puck and the note written on it, you nodded your head yes as you felt your cheeks heat up slightly from anticipation. 

Slowly the crowd started leaving once the boys were leaving the ice, finally there was enough room for you and your friend to make your way to the steps. 

“Hey thanks for coming by the way.” as you stop at the top of the steps. 

“It was fun. Are you ready to go?” 

“Actually Cole told me to meet him in the tunnels after the game.” you admit a light blush still painting your cheeks. 

“ooo okay have fun girly. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t. Text me when you get back to his place.” As she wraps her arms around you to hug you goodbye quickly. 

A laugh escapes your lips at your friend's words. “What do you mean ‘his place'?” Making a quotation sign with your hand. 

“Well we both know you aren’t going home tonight. You know you'll be busy with him, I’ll just check your location.” 

Before you could open your mouth she turned around and was gone. All you could do is laugh as you stood there and watched her walk away. Quickly you turned around and started walking towards the other side of the arena where the tunnels were. Somehow managing to find your way around, you pulled your phone out to text Cole that you were waiting outside of the locker room for him after being stopped by security, but thankfully the pass Cole gave you just in case came in handy. Standing against the wall scrolling Twitter while you waited for Cole to be done. 

Somehow the fan girls work faster than you could have ever imagined because someone made a gif of Cole’s tongue sticking out as he skated against the glass during his celly earlier tonight. Watching the gif over and over your breath caught in your throat as all your thoughts form earlier tonight just wanting to want Cole sink to his knees in front of you and eat you out came flooding back. Imagining your hand in his hair helping his face grind against using his tongue for nothing else except your own pleasure. Your mind was wandering and you could feel yourself dripping at the thought of making Cole sink to his knees, you refusing to pull his hair at first as punishment for teasing you all night. 

Lost in your own thoughts you didn’t even hear Cole leaving the locker room or coming up to you. Cole knew you were lost in your own world and decided to scare you by running up to you from behind wrapping his arms around you and leaving a wet kiss on your cheek. All that could be heard in the mostly quiet hallway now since he was one of the last players out was his laugh as you squirmed in his arms. “Ew Cole let me down.” you shirked in a high pitch voice he laughed in response spinning you around one more time before setting you down. 

“So how did you like watching me play?” he asked, finally facing you, still trying to hold you as close as possible. 

“It was good. It was actually kind of hot watching you play.” you admit with a smirk on your lips. 

Cole gives you a puzzling look as he questions, “oh yeah?” in a teasing tone. 

All you do is flash him a cheeky grin as you admit, “yeah watching you do your little celly on the ice was so hot, but I just kept watching you stick your tongue out all night.” Leaning up to his ear despite no one being around you whispered, “all I could think about was getting you to sink to your knees so I could ride your face, one leg over your shoulder, my back against the wall and not let you touch yourself as punishment for teasing me all night. My hands in your hair pulling and tugging as much as I wanted. All while your tongue is busy, so you can’t even beg me to let you touch yourself to give your hard cock some relief.” 

As you lean back only far away enough to see his face, his mouth is ajar in shock at your words. It’s as if he’s processing your words and for the first time in his life he’s quiet for more than a minute, you decide to further tease him while he stands there frozen. “What’s the matter baby boy, cat got your tongue?” A smirk on your lips as you watch him blink, as if his brain has finally caught up to the world around him. 

“No, not yet.” His voice is an octave deeper than before filled with lust. Suddenly he’s pulling you down the hallway towards the parking garage. “But it will be.” 

But just as you were about to exit the stadium to enter the connected parking garage, Cole made a sharp left turn down a separate hallway. “Where are we going?” you ask. 

“Oh, we're making your words reality mamas.” As he opens a door and suddenly you find yourself in some type of equipment storage closet. In the corner is an extra medical bed, and there are sticks everywhere along another wall. But you don’t have too much time to examine the room before you feel Cole behind you after he locks the door. “ Kissing down your neck, blowing air into your ear and all you can do is compliment him by sighing at the feeling. 

Quickly you regain your composure and turn around in his arms, finding his lips and kissing him hard. Fighting for dominance, and smirking when you slip your tongue into his mouth, he moans as a response and you can feel your underwear being damp from the sound he makes. Pushing him off of yourself quickly. You take a step back, you're against the wall now as you unbuckle your jeans. He says to you “have I told you how pretty you look with my name on your back.” 

Holding your hand up against his chest to stop him from getting any closer to you.”naw ah ah. Let’s put that tongue to good use, less yapping yeah?” Even though you phrase it as a question, your tone is stern and demanding. Taking your left hand that wasn’t on Cole’s chest you move it to his shoulder slightly pushing him down so he’s on his knees. The way he glances up to you with his now darker blue eyes could have made you come right there. Trying to take a breath without showing him how much control he really does have over you at the moment. Pulling your jeans down the rest of the way and stepping out of them, slipping your shoes so you can slip your skinny jeans off the rest of the way. 

Looking down at Cole in a full suit, suddenly deciding he’s in too much clothing as he kisses your exposed thighs in front of you. “Take. Off. Your. jacket.” 

“Yes Momas.” he says, taking his suit jacket, refusing to lose eye contact with you. He tosses the jacket somewhere behind him joining your jeans. He sticks his tongue out to tease you more as you throw your right leg over his shoulder. 

“Don’t even think about teasing Cole.” you grunt. He moves your underwear to the side swiping up and down your cunt in quick motions. “You wanna be a good boy right?” you ask as you tug slightly on his hair. 

“Hmm.” he moans as a yes on your clit, closing your eyes at the taste. Taking your hands you tug hard on his hair. 

“No, gotta keep your eyes open. I wanna see you while I grind on your face.” As you start to lightly roll your hips, Cole’s hands find the flesh of your ass and back of your thighs. He pulls you closer and starts kneading the soft flesh looking directly up to you as he moves his tongue down to your hole. Pushing in and out teasingly as his nose bumps his nose against your clit. “Fuck Cole.” you moan as you push your shoulders against the door, throwing your head back, closing your eyes at the feeling. Your hands go under the jersey finding your boobs squeezing them through your bra trying to play with your nipples. And then you feel Cole move his head so slightly causing a new angle as you roll your hips against his face even harder. “Fuck right there baby. Don’t stop.” you whine. So much for being in control but right now you couldn’t give a fuck with how good Cole was making you feel. 

Cole goes back up with his tongue to do circles over your clit driving so crazy. You don’t even realize one of his hands leaves your ass and his fingers find your hole abusing it even more than his tongue was a minute ago. “Fuck Cole I’m close.” you warn and that’s all you have time to grunt out before your vision blurs and you feel your legs shake, if it hadn’t been for Cole holding you upright you would have fell. He continues to eat you lapping up all your juices until your legs stop shaking and your breathing isn’t so ragged. 

Gently he removes his face from your pussy, careful to keep a steady grip on your legs so you stay up right. He slowly makes his way up to you, pulling you into a kiss so you can taste yourself and all you can do is moan in response. “Usually it takes more than a guy eating you out to feel this tired but holy shit Cole.” you mumble leaning your head on his shoulder closing your thighs. 

“Come on, let's get you dressed.” he says, reaching down for your jeans that were thrown away earlier. 

“No.” you whine. “ I’m not leaving you with this.” As you gently take one of your hands to slightly cup his bulge in his suit pants. He hisses in response. “See your in pain.” you complain.

“I’ll be fine. You just said your tired baby.” he argues. Looking back over at the medical examination bed in the corner of the room you get an idea. Slowly taking one of his hands you turn and walk backwards towards the bed guiding Cole with you. Letting go of his hand, you slip your underwear off the rest of the way and throw in his direction. He catches it on reflex sucking in a breath as feel the medical table behind you. Slowly you climb on and scoot all the way back. 

“I’m not too tired for you. Take what you need. Be good for me, make me cum again baby boy.” you beg as you lay down and spread your legs for Cole to have a perfect few of your still dripping pussy from your first orgasim. 

“Fuck. how did I get so lucky to get you.” he mumbles to himself as you watch him undress and make his way over to you.

[steddieasitgoes]

Detours & Second Chances

written for @steddie-week Day 5 prompt: Reunion / Getting Back Together Rating: T | wc: 3545 | no cw Another big thank you to @sidekickjoey and @thefreakandthehair for giving this a beta read for me! Read on ao3

Steve had high hopes for this road trip. 

Just him, the twins, and the wide open roads with the promise of the beach and Disneyland on the horizon. He knew better than to plan it down to the second, especially when traveling with Mabel and Ollie, but he did hope to keep to some kind of schedule. A few nights here, a couple of nights there, a handful of free time hours carved into nearly every day so the kids could pick which tacky roadside attraction they could visit and then gloat to Aunt Robin about seeing. 

What Steve hadn’t planned for was the Winnebago going up in smoke four and a half hours from Disneyland on I-15. 

The good news is that it happened just as they entered Las Vegas, Nevada, and not thirty minutes later in the middle of the Nevada-California desert. The bad news is that it happened just as they entered Las Vegas, Nevada on a Sunday afternoon when everyone was trying to leave. 

Steve expects the drivers around him to curse and flip him off. At the very least, he imagines them shaking their heads in disapproval as they slowly inch past the smoking Winnebago broken down in the middle of the three-lane highway. And there is some of that, honking horns and judgmental gazes, enough that he has to explain to Mabel and Ollie that showing someone your middle finger is not nice and no you shouldn’t do it to each other. But there’s also a handful of Sunday travelers who take pity on him. 

Two truck drivers manage to get their rigs off onto the shoulder and then mosey their way over to see if they can help Steve identify why the RV is smoking. A woman in a mini-van full of preteens in sports jerseys offers him an entire ice chest full of snacks for Mabel and Ollie. Some good Samaritan even makes the half-mile hike to the nearest pay phone to call for a tow truck so Steve doesn’t have to leave the kids or make the track himself with them following behind him. 

Forty-five minutes later, they all climb into a yellow taxi while Winnie the Winnebago gets towed away. For a moment, he thinks he’s ruined the entire vacation, but listening to Mabel and Ollie talk about how cool it was to watch the “toe man” do his job eases the guilt. 

Unfortunately, the repair shop is nowhere near as exciting as standing in the middle of I-15 — at least, that’s what Ollie tells Steve five minutes after they’ve walked into the garage. Steve tries his best to keep everyone’s spirits up in between filing out paperwork and bargaining with the mechanic over the price of the repairs. He lets the kid raid the vending machine and spread it all out on the worn plastic chairs in the makeshift lobby like some kind of five-star buffet. It’s mainly cookies and chips, a few candy bars, and a granola bar Mabel even generously spent $1.10 on for him. 

It’s not the worst meal they’ve had on the trip — that honor goes to the gas station in Kearney, Nebraska, and the hot dogs he knew were a bad idea — but it’s definitely the least nutritious. And, in hindsight, it’s not the best idea now that Mabel and Ollie are hyped up on sugar in a small space with no central air conditioning. He gets it. He’s almost at his wit’s end, too, and he has several decades of patience over them. 

He’s hot and tired and so frustrated, he’d break down and cry if he could, but he doesn’t want to upset the kids or ruin the day more than it’s already been ruined. Instead, he puts on his brave Dad Face™, leaves his pager number with the mechanic’s receptionist, and takes the kids to explore Las Vegas. 

The city wasn’t on their list. It’s not kid-friendly, and the July heat is anything but welcoming, but thankfully, they luck out and stumble across a hybrid game and music store a few blocks away from the repair shop.

The bell above their door announces their entrance to the quiet storefront as the sweet, sweet relief of the AC hits them. Steve closes his eyes, soaking in the cool air for a moment before Mabel and Ollie are tugging on his hands, trying to drag him in different directions. 

Steve knows he should put an end to their bickering that borders on full-on sibling bullying, especially judging by the way they’ve dropped his hand in favor of pinching each other’s arms, but he gets distracted when a figure emerges from the back of the shop. 

The footsteps are uneven, which makes sense when an ornate cane enters Steve’s line of sight. He studies it, taking in the impressive woodwork and paint job — Max’s own can is pretty spectacular, but this one is a close second. Soon, his eyes drift from the cane to the hand holding it, a ring on each finger. Silver and gaudy and eerily similar to—

“Holy shit,” the voice says. “Are my eyes giving out on me too, or is Steve Harrington really standing in my shop right now?” 

Steve’s eyes shoot up to meet the man’s face — to meet Eddie’s face. It’s been years, shit, almost a decade he thinks, but Eddie looks the same. Older, sure. A few wrinkles around his eyes and a softer belly. But he’s still him. Unruly curls barely contained in a bun at the base of his neck, mischievous eyes, and a smile that makes Steve’s stomach flip in a way it hasn’t done in too long. Yup, definitely him.

“Eddie?”

Eddie laughs, throwing his head back with the same carelessness as he had at twenty years old. Only this time, when he rights himself, he has to reach a hand up to his neck to massage the ache. “Man, this is some cosmic, universe shit!” 

“At least it’s the good kind this time,” Steve jokes. 

Eddie goes for a full-on hug, Steve an awkward side one, and as a result, they end up with their bodies smushed against each other, arms pinned between each other in the world’s worst hug of all time. But it’s also the greatest, as far as Steve’s concerned. 

When they separate, Eddie gives Steve a quick once-over before shaking his head again. “So, what brings you all the way to Sin City?” 

“A family road trip.” 

“Ah, so the six nuggets and a Winnebago dream came true, then?” Eddie muses. 

“More like two nuggets, a piece of shit rental that’s in a repair shop after crapping out on me on I-15, and a co-pilot that doubles as my son’s emotional support stuffed animal,” Steve says, then smiles. “But I can’t complain.” 

“Wheeler never jumped on the Harrington Express?” 

Steve’s interrupted by Ollie running at him with a vinyl record thrust above his head. Mabel appears a moment later, holding a giant box in her arms that’s clearly too heavy for her. She passes it to Steve, who hands it over to Eddie, who has taken refuge behind the glass counter. As soon as the kids appear, they’re gone again. Steve shouts after them to stay together and not to touch anything. It goes in one ear and out the other if the loud crash that follows a moment later is anything to go off of. Steve winces and looks at Eddie apologetically. 

“I promise I’ll pay for whatever they break. They’re a little stir-crazy from being stuck at the repair shop all day.” 

Eddie doesn’t look worried about it in the slightest. In fact, Steve’s willing to bet he didn’t even hear the crash, judging by the fond look on his face. It’s a soft smile, almost bittersweet if he had to put a name to it. It looks out of place on his face — almost too earnest, which makes no sense because Eddie is the most earnest guy Steve’s ever known. 

“Eddie?” 

“Huh, what?” Eddie blinks himself back to the present. When he shakes his head, the elastic holding his hair back snaps, sending his curls cascading down to his shoulders. It’s easy now to see the hints of gray peppered into the locks that used to keep Steve up at night — occasionally still keeps him up. 

Steve gestures toward the row where Mabel and Ollie are frantically trying to restack things on the shelves. This time, Eddie snorts and meets Steve's gaze with that familiar crooked smile. 

“Don’t worry about them. S’just boxes and shit.” 

Steve nods and then grabs a pen out of the cup on the glass counter. He twirls it between his fingers, something about the rhythmic motion calming the silly nerves running wild in his body right now. 

It’s just Eddie. 

“Nance would kill you for even thinking she’s a part of this circus,” Steve says, then panics. “To answer your question from before. No misses at all actually. Or misters either,” Steve says before he chickens out. 

Eddie left before he realized that little fun fact about himself. It was ironic (and tragic), considering he’s the reason Steve even realized it to begin with. Chalk it up to cosmic, universe shit — the bad kind that time. 

“Cause that could be an option to, you know. Obviously you know, but it’s an option for me too in case you didn’t know and—“

“Woah, breathe, Steve.” 

Steve takes a slow, deep inhale. His exhale is strong enough to send a few of Eddie’s stray curls fluttering before settling back amongst the rest. “Sorry.” 

“Stop apologizing!” Eddie throws his hand across the counter, squeezing Steve’s wrist, 

It’s silly, but something about the simple touch relaxes the nervous energy that’s taken over him ever since Eddie emerged from the back. A part of Steve wants to blame the relief on the touch, but he knows better. Knows it has everything to do with finally telling Eddie about this part of him he helped him discover. 

Steve’s been out to just about everyone he cares about, and now he’s certain he’s told them all. 

“So no misses or misters,” Eddie says, before hiding his growing smile behind a curl. “What about Buckley? Is she on the great American family road trip with you?” 

“Robin refuses to get into Winnebagos after, well, you know.” 

“Can’t say I blame her for that one.” 

“It’s just me and the kids. Mabel and Ollie. They’re my kids…I mean, well, obviously, they’re mine, and anyone who says they’re not are fucking idiots, but they’re not blood mine or whatever people say.” Christ, he’s rambling again. “I adopted them. Actually, I was supposed to be their temporary foster parent. I was in my second year as a social worker, and they were two and six months old when they came in the middle of a Saturday night and we had no one on standby. They came home with me, and then they just never left.” 

Somewhere in his rambling, Eddie made himself comfortable, pillowing his chin on his hands, elbows sinking into the giant mouse pad that’s stretched out on top of the glass counter. He’s dropped the curl, his bright smile on full display, dimple, and everything when he looks at Steve now. 

“I love a good foster fail story,” he cooed. “I have a few myself. Fosters that turned into full-on adoptions. I mean not human kids, cats. And a few dogs. Even a bird. But they’re my kids, you know. I mean, not that what you did is the same thing as me or anything, but I… I’m just going to stop talking now.”

This time, it’s Steve's hand that breaks the barrier between them, reaching out to pat Eddie on the shoulder. A reassuring thing that he hopes conveys that he’s not offended. Just in case, he spells it out for him verbally too. 

“I get it. Kids mean a lot of things to different people. If you say they’re your kids, they’re your kids,” he says, smiling. “Robin has a plant, Ferguson. When she first got it she carried it around in Ollie’s baby bjorn because she needed to ‘bond’ with it.” 

Eddie laughs, this time hard enough that the case between them vibrates. “Lesbians, and their plants, man.” 

“She rescued it from her ex, who was drowning it.” 

“We’re just all patron saints of lost things, aren’t we?” 

“Guess so.” Steve smiles, then adjusts his own stance so he’s leaning against the counter. Something pops in his back, and for once, he doesn’t make an excuse. Eddie knows all about their aches and pains — the way their bodies are thirty years older than they should be, thanks to their teenage years. He runs a steady hand through his hair, hoping beyond hope that it’s not as greasy as it feels and then turns his attention to Eddie. “What about you? Game and record store sounds like a pretty sweet deal.” 

Eddie blows out air in a whoosh and reaches for another curl. “I mean, yeah, it’s pretty cool. Closest I could get to being a rockstar, I guess.” 

“Do you still play?” 

“Occasionally. There’s a dive bar a few streets over that I perform sometimes. No band, though. At least, not yet. I’m giving myself a few more years; let the gray really come in,” Eddie says, fluffing his curls. “And then I’ll join one of those mid-life crisis dad bands.” 

“Solid plan.” He fiddles with the pen again, contemplating if he should ask what he wants, too. Screw it. Who knows when he’s going to see Eddie again — if it’ll ever happen again. It’s best not to leave anything on the table. “What about a partner?” 

“Me?” Eddie asks, pointing to himself before laughing. “Nope. No partner. No lovers either, really. It’s just me and the petting zoo. And Wayne, when the old man makes the trip out to visit me.” 

Eddie being alone all these years shouldn’t make Steve happy. He should want him to be settled by now, grossly in love with someone who makes him feel special like he deserves. But Steve’s heart is a traitor, and his brain is no better, already imagining ten different ways he could change that. 

Had he known Eddie’s been in Vegas alone all this time, he would have visited a lot sooner. Hell, he would have made this their final destination — he’s sure he could find something family-friendly here for Mabel and Ollie. There’s a lake around here or some shit, right? They could have—

“Shit,” Steve says, reaching for his beeping pager. The repair shop number appears on the small screen. “Could I borrow your phone? This is the repair shop.” 

“I suppose I could make an exception on my no-customers rule,” Eddie teases. “Phones in my office, straight back there.” 

Steve nods and rounds the counter towards the backroom but stops short. The kids. He almost forgot about the kids. “Do you mind keeping an eye on them?” Steve asks, tilting his head to Mabel and Ollie who have finally picked up the mess they created. 

“Of course! Don’t worry about them. I’m great with kids.” 

“I remember.” 

___

Eddie’s office isn’t unlike his teenage bedroom Steve spent many nights in. It has his typical brand of messiness but with an added layer of professionalism. Like, there’s an honest-to-God filing cabinet in the corner, but next to it is a three-foot-tall Yoda statue.  Papers lay haphazardly on the desk beside a calculator. 

There are posters all over the walls — some Steve recognizes, some he doesn’t — and endless photographs in mismatched frames. At least three wallet-sized frames with pictures of his pets — kids — sit on the desk. There’s one of Wayne and Eddie on his graduation day on the bookshelfnbeside photos of him with Dustin and some of the other kids over the years. 

He even spots himself amongst the familiar faces — a polaroid they took one summer in Hawkins. It feels like a lifetime ago, but a part of Steve remembers what it was like to have Eddie’s arm slung around him like that with the sun beating down their faces, causing them to squint in the photo because Jonathan refused to shoot directly into the sunlight. 

Steve gives himself another second to soak in Eddie’s office, searching for any other details he can find to fill in the years he’s missed — a pride flag draped over a chair, his business license framed on the wall, packs of half-used nicotine gum instead of cartons of cigarettes. Finally, he makes it to the phone and punches in the number of the repair shop. 

___

When Steve resurfaced twenty minutes later, the neon “open” sign that flickered in the window had been shut off. Eddie’s abandoned his post behind the counter, taking up space at a table in the game section of the store. Mabel and Ollie are sitting on either side of him, listening intently with wide eyes as he moves two figures across a board toward a hoard of waiting miniature figures. 

“I leave you for twenty minutes, and you’re already corrupting them with your nerd games?” Steve teases, ruffling both Mabel and Ollie’s hair in the process. 

Eddie scoffs. “You expect me to believe Dustin hasn’t put them through D&D boot camp yet? Please.” 

“Your stories are nothing like Dustin’s,” Ollie says, voice full of awe. 

“Yeah, he always wants to skip the fun adventure stuff and get straight to the battles,” Mabel chimes in. “That's why we like it when Daddy gets to be in charge.” 

Eddie’s head swivels so fast that the irrational part of Steve’s brain fears it’s going to fly right off. “You DM for them?” 

 “I wouldn’t call it Dungeon Master-ing,” Steve says, grabbing the back of his neck. The room feels ten times hotter all of a sudden. The AC must have shut off, he reasons. There’s no other explanation for his sudden flush. Not at all. “I really just make sh— stuff up.” 

“He’s the best make-believer! You should play with us sometime. Like tonight!” 

“Mabel, Eddie’s busy running this store; he can’t just stop to play with you. And besides, we have to get going soon.” 

“They fixed Winnie?” Ollie asks, jumping up from his seat. 

Steve sighs. “Not yet. That’s why we have to leave. I need to find somewhere for us to sleep tonight that’s—

“—I have a guest room.”

Steve blinks. Is Eddie offering his place to them? His hearing may be spotty lately, but he’s never imagined entire phrases before. Which means—

“I mean if you want,” Eddie says sheepishly this time. “I have a hoard of kittens running around right now, so if you’re allergic, it might not be the best place but—“

“Kittens!” Mabel squeals before rapidly asking Eddie a hundred questions about them, but he doesn’t stand a chance of answering. 

“Can’t we stay at his house, Daddy?” 

“I really do have a spare bedroom and bathroom. Plus, a couch and a semi-stocked fridge. And I wouldn’t charge you. The hotels around here are going to sense your need and charge you an arm and a leg, trust me.”

Steve would be stupid to turn it down. A free stay in an actual house. A meal he can cook with his own two hands that don’t involve a shitty stove that gives out after a few minutes. Not to mention, a shower with actual hot water. 

Plus, it comes with the added bonus of a few more hours with Eddie. Yeah, there’s not a chance in hell he’s turning that down. Not again. 

“Alright, yeah. Let’s do it.” Mabel and Ollie shout in excitement, spinning around the table. Eddie might not have the same energy level as them to join them, but his smile says it all. 

“It’ll be just like old times.” 

“Wait! You guys know each other?”

Steve laughs first, but soon Eddie’s cackle joins him and it really does feel like old times again. “Of course, I know him. What? You think I would let us stay in a stranger’s house? Don’t you know me at all?” 

___

Three days later, Steve finds himself behind the wheel of Winnie the Winnebago as she makes her grand return to I-15. When he glances over his shoulder as the traffic crawls for miles in front of him, he spots Mabel and Ollie throwing Fruit Loops at each other to see who can catch the most in their mouth. And when he looks to his right, Eddie’s there — feet up on the dash, hands protectively clutching Ollie’s teddy bear as if he’s hoping it offers him the same comfort it does for the six-year-old — handsome as ever.

“Didn’t think I’d ever be back in one of these,” he says fondly. “Especially not with you behind the wheel.” 

“Really?” Steve lets the corners of his lips twitch upward. Doesn’t try to fight the blush he knows is creeping across his cheeks. “‘Cause this is all I’ve thought about for years.” 

[halfagonyandhope]

ignite the stars │ch. 5

first chapter (x); previous chapter (x)

Satine Kryze is an internationally-recognized scholar in genocide studies who recently resigned from the Department of State over her concerns regarding the agency's ethics. Ben Kenobi is a tenured professor at Georgetown University studying the use of religion to justify military conflicts. Once high school sweethearts, the two haven't spoken since parting ways for university. That is, until Satine accepts a research fellowship - at Georgetown.

---

“So, Satine, how does a woman like you end up in a field like this?”

Satine, Ben, Ventress, and Quinlan Vos are at a small bar a few blocks away from campus. This particular bar is, apparently, their go-to - on account of the drinks being a couple dollars more expensive than the bars that surround it, thereby keeping the undergrads and grad students from passing over its threshold. And indeed, the patrons are mostly postdocs or early career professors, making the atmosphere feel more akin to a coffee shop than a typical university bar.

Vos smiles over his drink. With his broad shoulders and towering nearly six and a half foot frame, he’s the most physically imposing person Satine has ever met, but she suspects his question was designed to be lighthearted. The answer is anything but, and she feels Ben’s thigh tense next to her in the booth.

Satine gives a short, rehearsed answer. “I was born in Srebrenica in 1988. My mother and I sought asylum in Norway in July 1995.”

Vos inhales sharply.

“Fuck,” says Ventress, and more emotion passes her face in that moment than Satine has seen in the entire preceding week.

Satine nods. “The only appropriate response,” she says to Ventress.

Ben, of course, already knows Satine’s history, so Satine is not surprised when his fingers brush against hers underneath the table to send her silent support. Instead of letting him retreat, she twines her fingers with his, and she feels him relax, resting their joined hands against the outside of his thigh.

Vos, looking apologetic, tries to steer the conversation toward less horrific subjects. “Asajj tells me you and Kenobi go way back,” he says as Ventress swirls her mix drink around in its glass.

Ben’s eyes are simultaneously exasperated and shooting daggers. “I never did enjoy hanging out with you,” he says to Vos.

Vos just grins.

But Satine would rather talk about Ben than what happened in Srebrenica any day. “After my mother passed away,” she says, “I was adopted by a wealthy Norwegian couple. They recognized my academic ambition and encouraged me to apply to Andover for high school. Ben and I were in the same graduating class.”

“Kenobi does give off elite prep school vibes,” Ventress says, cackling. “I should have figured.”

Satine laughs, a deep and genuine laugh. “It’s the posh accent,” she agrees, squeezing Ben’s hand so he knows she is joking. He squeezes back, eyes still deliberately facing forward at Vos and Ventress.

“That accent does him no favors, you know,” says Vos. “He’s had at least one female admirer ask him out while she was getting help on an assignment.”

“I believe there were two admirers,” corrects Ventress. “My office is on the other side of his, and last year I heard him politely turning down a young man. I hope you reported him to the department, Kenobi. The way he haunted your office hours was a bit much.”

“Thank you, Ventress, for your concern,” says Ben, as Satine’s eyes go wide. “And, yes, he was reassigned to a section with a different lecturer. I think Windu was a better fit for his learning style, anyway.”

Vos nearly spits out his beer.

Satine rubs her thumb over Ben’s knuckle. “I’ve never had to deal with students, thank god,” she admits. “Even as a postdoc, they recognized I did not have the patience to handle them. Somehow, my funding always seemed to be covered fully by research rather than teaching.”

The others laugh at this, and it feels good - normal - to be able to speak plainly about academia so openly. She is not made to be a teacher, even if her calling is academia. And finally, here are three others who understand.

“But Ben tells me you two eloped and then went up for the same job?” Satine asks. “There has to be a good story there.”

Ventress’ eyes sparkle, and she gestures at Vos. “You tell it better,” she says to him.

He grins. “This was about - what? Three years ago? At any rate, Kenobi here had just introduced us. By the end of that conversation - ”

“During which I was completely forgotten,” interjects Ben, “so rather than third-wheeling it, I just saw myself out.”

Satine snickers as Vos continues. “By the end of the conversation, Asajj and I were exclusive. Six weeks later, we both knew this was it, so we booked a flight to Samoa so my family could be witnesses.” He tosses an arm around Ventress’ shoulders. “And the rest, shall we say, is history.”

Ventress purses her lips. “We almost were history for a moment - we had a rather vicious fight over the honeymoon when we heard about the tenure track position that opened up in the department.”

Satine tilts her head. “Over who would apply?”

Ventress smiles. “In a sense. I wanted only him to apply, and he wanted only me to.”

Satine grins at this. “Now that is love.”

Ventress leans forward slightly. “We knew one of us would get it. We just didn’t know which one. So we compromised. It worked out better than we anticipated.”

“Understatement of the century,” says Ben, taking another sip of his cider. 

“I guess they were worried that if they offered just the one spot, we’d pack up and leave once the pair of us found a dual hire option someplace else,” supplies Vos. “To be fair, it was a reason to be worried. We would have moved practically anywhere that offered us both tenure track positions.”

Satine leans back in the booth, grateful for the warmth of Ben’s shoulder against her own. “Well, I for one am pleased that an academic department made a wise choice. For once.” She smiles wryly. “Is such competence typical for our department?”

Ben shakes his head, chuckling. “They’ve made exactly one other good decision, and it was to fund the research fellowship that brought you here. But even that decision is debatable - because I’ve heard it’s only a one year fellowship with no chance of renewal? They’d be foolish to let you go.”

Satine can’t help the blush that spreads across her face, her chest. Her heart feels like it’s practically glowing.

“As much as I hate to agree with Kenobi,” says Ventress, “he’s right. They’re really planning on letting you just move on after the fellowship is complete?”

“To be honest,” Satine says, “I haven’t allowed myself to think that far ahead yet. Leaving State was…an ordeal. I’m just pleased to not have to worry about a retaliatory firing.”

Ventress moves forward again. “Now, that sounds like a story.”

Satine sighs. “It is,” she acknowledges. “But one that I can’t say much about for legal reasons. However, I’m sure anything you can speculate would be pretty close to the truth.”

Ben pulls her hand to his lap and covers it with his other hand briefly before pulling that hand back above the table, careful not to give away too much. “As I’m sure you know, there are legal protections in place for whistleblowers,” he says.

Satine holds his gaze. “I’d need a lot more than legal protection to be compelled to speak about what happened,” says Satine softly.

If it’s possible to see someone’s heart break in real time, Satine witnesses it in Ben’s eyes. “I didn’t realize it was that serious.”

Ventress’ expression turns dark. “If it is that serious, all the more reason not to talk about it in a public bar,” she warns, and Ben nods.

“Of course. Forgive me.”

Ventress nudges Vos, and Vos stands. “Pool?” he says to Ben, and Ben squeezes Satine’s fingers one last time before sliding out of the booth to follow Vos. 

Ventress leans over to Satine. “This is the last I’ll say on it, but…” She trails off, looking around to make sure no one is listening in on their conversation. “If there’s anything I can do, let me know.”

Satine doesn’t know Ventress’ history, but she does know that she wants Ventress on her side. She smiles softly. “That means a lot. Thank you.”

Ventress swirls her drink again before taking a sip. “And speaking of things I can do for you…I was sleeping with Kenobi for over a year, and never once did he look at me the way he looks at you. That man is besotted.”

Satine’s eyes flash to Ben, leaning over the pool table, lining up a shot. 

“It’s not that the feeling isn’t mutual,” she hedges. “There’s just a lot of history there, and a lot of complication.”

Ventress grins. “Complication is what makes it fun.”

---

The foursome eventually part ways just outside the bar, with Vos and Ventress catching a Georgetown University shuttle to the Dupont Circle Metro entrance. Ben watches Ventress lean into Vos, Vos’ arm around her shoulders, with a faraway look on his face. Then he turns to Satine.

“Which way is your bus stop?” he asks.

“I was going to walk home,” Satine says. “It’s just over a mile from here, so not too bad.”

Ben’s eyes surveil the dark and shadows, and Satine knows what he’s going to say before he says it. “Let me walk you there.”

She’s already protesting before he finishes the sentence. “That’s hardly necessary - ” she begins, but he cuts her off.

“Humor me,” he says. “Or, at least, humor the eighteen-year-old version of me.”

She glares at him. “That’s cheating.”

“I never claimed to play fair.”

He offers her his elbow, and she loops her arm around his.

“On the contrary,” she says as they begin to walk in the direction of her condo. “You are the straightest arrow I’ve ever encountered.”

Ben hums. “Must be something about you that makes me forget the rules, then.”

Satine looks over at him. “Did Ventress have the same effect on you, I wonder?” she asks softly. There’s no jealousy in her tone, merely curiosity, and it surprises even her.

Ben takes a second to answer, weighing his words. “I wanted her to,” he eventually admits. “I dove into her wanting to fall in love. She helped me realize I was really using her to try to fall out of love.” He shakes his head ruefully. “Remarkable woman, and she deserved better. I’m glad she has it now. I’m very grateful she doesn’t hold it against me. Much.”

As Satine ponders this, Ben continues.

“But what about you? I can’t imagine you’ve been single all this time.”

They cross the street, arms still tangled together, legs mirroring each other’s cadence. “That would depend on your definition of the word single,” says Satine. “I don’t really date, not in the traditional sense of the word. I find most people incapable of being able to hold an intelligent conversation. And those who can tend to be - there’s no way to say this kindly - lacking adequate knowledge of female anatomy.”

Ben throws his head back in laughter. “So you’re saying the Venn diagram of people who capture your intellectual interest and who can get you off are two separate circles.”

“Not entirely. There was one suitor. It was a long time ago, so I can hardly recall details. But he had a charmingly adorable, horrendous haircut. And he was terribly eager to please. He might have been inexperienced, but that eagerness made for great sex.”

Ben waits to answer as they pass a group of bar-hoppers. When they’re out of earshot, he says, “Sounds promising. I bet he’s gained experience since then. Perhaps he could even teach you a thing or two, these days.”

They pass underneath a streetlight, and Satine turns to him. “I don’t even know if he’s still interested, yet alone emotionally available. It’s…been many years, as I said.”

Ben turns his head so that his lips nearly touch her ear. “I’d wager a bet that he’s still very interested. Single, too. But if you’re looking for emotional availability,” he adds, pulling away slightly and holding her gaze, “I’m not sure your suitor would meet that prerequisite.”

Satine stops, pulling Ben around to face her. “You know how some job postings note that they’re willing to consider applicants who don’t necessarily meet all of the qualifications?”

Ben nods, brow furrowed.

“If I could, I’d like to tell that boy - to tell the man he’s become - that you don’t need to meet or exceed all the prerequisites to apply.” She bites her lip, wondering if she’s been too bold. “He would likely find I’m not as emotionally available as I’d like to be, either. But maybe it’s something he and I could work on together.”

His eyes widen, and he swallows nervously. Then he nods.

As he begins to step forward, Satine pulls him back. “Ben,” she says. “I’m only a few more blocks up the road. I’ll see myself the rest of the way.”

“If it’s just a few more blocks, it’s really no trouble - ”

“You misunderstand,” says Satine. “The trouble would be that once we arrive, I’d inevitably invite you inside. And I want us both to think about this before we make any rash decisions.”

His pupils dilate. Then his expression softens. “Any decision involving you would never be rash,” he says. “Or regretted. But I’ll honor your request, Madam Secretary.”

She pulls her arm from his, but before she pulls away completely, she’s overcome by impulse, and she throws her arms around his shoulders. He tenses, but she says, “Humor me. Or, at least, humor the eighteen-year-old version of me.”

And he relaxes against her, his arms looping around her waist.

Satine breathes him in and fights the tears she knows are coming. “I missed you, Ben. So very much.”

His arms tighten around her. “I never stopped thinking about you,” he murmurs.

She pulls back slightly, and his hands fall to her hips. Her breath fogs the air between them, and she can literally see him inhale the molecules she’d just breathed out.

“I should go,” she says, one hand raising of its own accord to cradle his jaw, the wiry hair of his beard unfamiliar and new to her. She smirks. “I think I’ve decided I like the beard,” she says. “It may hide a bit too much of your handsome face, but somehow it still suits you.”

And before she loses her nerve, she turns on her heel, leaving him behind.

[gvtted-ratz]

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Look Outside The Window

Jay Merrick/Skully x M!Reader

Last Edited: July 4, 2021 12:03 AM

TW: stalking, obsessive behavior

Requested: no

AO3 LINK -> HERE

Notes: these used 2 be posted but i deleted them after some comments made me hate them. however, i found them again recently n may end up adding more. i also do not hate them anymore. tws will be in the notes before every chapter and some will be put in the additional tags. the character is also in the notes/summary before each chapter. (The 1st 4 r old n unedited)

You had needed an out. You needed to get away from home. Your parents did nothing but trap you there. You couldn’t make your own decisions or even buy anything with your own money without them talking you down or insulting you over it. They wanted you to live with them and go by their rules. They didn’t care about what you wanted in life and only saw you as their “little boy”. You weren’t a child anymore; you were a young adult. They were constantly trying to infantilize you and you hated it. You were a young adult and you needed to branch out, make mistakes, and move on. So that’s what you did. You left home after finding a house-sitting job.

The job would last a few months, which was odd to you. Why house sit for months on end? The owners didn’t tell you anything. You didn’t even call. You emailed them and they emailed you. Every interaction with the couple was through emails. Or at least, you think the person messaging you is in a relationship. It sounded that way. One part of the email said, “We’ll be leaving the house to you. My partner and I are going on vacation for a few months. You can watch and live in the house while there. Your pay will be sent to you in a check via mail. The groceries will be delivered to you once a week. May you watch it carefully.” The last part gave you a sense of foreboding, almost like you should be watching out for something out in the house deep in the woods.

When you had arrived at the house, you were pleasantly surprised to find it very tidy. Everything was spotless in the two-story home. It held four bedrooms and three bathrooms. There was a dining room, living room, family room, kitchen, foyer, dressing area, and a nook. Overall, a large house. Well, a large house for a simple couple. Perhaps the couple has quite a bit of money? Especially if they’re going on vacation for a few months and are paying you a large sum to simply watch the lonely house in the woods.

The first few days were fine. Nothing really happened other than the feeling of being watched. What creeped you out the most though was that you never heard any birds. It was always silent outside. Silent and still. There was barely any wind thanks to the dense forestry. Despite that, the feeling of being watched continued. Sometimes, though, you would hear gentle buzzing in your ears. It reminded you of bees but it sounded more like an old tape. Whenever you heard it, it seemed like static covered your eyesight. You could still see, but the static was like a film over your sight. Whenever you would look in the mirror, your eyes seemed to have a slight glaze over them. Of course, there wasn’t much you could do and no amount of searching the internet seemed to help.

By the second week, you were hearing birds. There was something… off about them. They didn’t sound lively. They sounded hollow. Almost like something was mimicking them. You would hear them next to whichever window you were closest to as well. It was like something was by the window, mimicking the birds only when you’re there. It didn’t happen all throughout the day either. It only happened when you weren’t doing something. If you were to turn off the television, ready to get started on a meal, the chirping and singing would start up. Because of how hollow and synthetic it sounded, shivers would run all over your body. It didn’t help that the static over your vision seemed to get slightly worse whenever it would happen; the buzzing in your ears also seemed to get louder. At night, however, there was no chirping or singing. The static seemed to have tripled at that point though and the buzzing was so loud that you could barely hear your heartbeat and breathing.

By the first month, you were looking outside constantly. The bird noises seemed to happen constantly by now and notes started to appear around your home. When you would try to sleep, the hollow tune of the birds would be there despite the fact that no birds were out. The buzzing was so loud that it was all you would hear. The static was so bad that it completely covered your sight; it was like looking at a static screen. The notes terrified you. There were never any footprints in the snow outside and you were the only one in the home. You believed, at first, that you were writing them. Maybe you had been half asleep and wrote them. But that changed when the notes didn’t match your handwriting and started to be… weird.

You look handsome today. One said. Do you like the birds? They don’t seem very lively though. Another read. I wish you would see me. You always know I’m there thanks to the static and buzzing. Maybe we’ll meet soon. More and more would come in. They were always placed where you’d see them. A window. The fridge. Even on the television. They were taped there, all signed with an S. One was even on your bedroom door. How did someone get in and out without leaving any footprints or any evidence behind? You didn’t know but it started to make you close every curtain and try to raise the volume of everything, trying so hard to drown out the unlively birds.

Today was just like the last few. The static over your vision makes it hard to see right with how thick it is. The buzzing in your ears is loud, but not loud enough to drown out the synthetic birds. You make breakfast for yourself, dressed in some simple sleepwear. The breakfast you make doesn’t take too long, just some scrambled eggs and toast with jam. You eat in silence; well, not entirely in silence thanks to the buzzing and birds. When you finish your breakfast, you wash the plate and other utensils you had used to make your meal. Once done, you decided to do some light stretching in the living room. There wasn’t much you could do in the home. Outside was too cold for you to explore the wilderness without sustaining frostbite.

All of the curtains were closed except for one. It was the closest to the television. You were going to close it before spotting the note taped on the box. You stare at the note before tearing it off the screen. It reads: Look Outside The Window . You pause, staring at the note. The buzzing slowly starts to get louder just as the static over your sight starts to worsen. The birds, however, stop chirping. There’s only the buzzing. Slowly, you look towards the window. Nothing. Nothing but still snow.

A small smile worms its way only your face, mocking. A small, forced chuckle leaves your lips before you turn around, ready to head back into the kitchen to make some tea to calm your beating heart. You freeze though when you see the figure standing in the doorway. The beige-orange coat covers most of their figure while the black-ish blue hood covers their face. They have on a pair of gloves, the same colour as their hood. Their pants are a simple pair of jeans while their shoes seem to be black combat boots. Seeing a figure in your home is terrifying, yes. It wouldn’t have been as scary if the figure didn’t have a mask on. The mask was an off-white-ish colour with black eyeholes, high black eyebrows, and a box shape for the mouth, somewhat resembling teeth.

You both stand there, no one moving. The buzzing is so loud now that you can barely hear your own heart and breathing. The static is so bad that you can barely see the figure clearly. “IT’s NiCe To FiNaLlY mEeT yOu, [Redacted],” They, or he, says. His voice sounded weird. It was like a mix of different pitches and he couldn’t decide which one was best and went with all of them. You didn’t think though, only acted. You quickly dropped the note and fled the living room. You could hear him following you as you ran for the back door. You slam into it, trying to unlock it. “YoU dOn’T wAnT tO gO oUtSiDe! It’S tOo CoLd FoR yOu. EsPeCiAlLy WiTh HoW yOu’Re DrEsSeD!” You don’t listen though, not even as he slowly approaches you. With a final turn of the knob, the door is flung open and you run out into the snow.

It’s cold and stings your feet. You run and run and run. You don’t once look back, too scared that he may be right there. You don’t hear him following you, but that’s due to the buzzing. It’s so loud now that it’s all you can hear. You’re basically running blind; the static is so thick that seeing your surroundings is almost impossible. You stumble around mostly, hands in front of you so you don’t run face-first into any trees.

You’re unsure of how long you have been running. All you know for sure is that you can’t see anything anymore, the buzzing is starting to give you a headache, you feel like you’re sweating buckets beside the fact that your legs, arms, fingers, and toes are going numb. It isn’t long before you collapse. You’re breathing heavily, panting in the snow. You can feel yourself shaking despite feeling so hot, so overheated. Your hair sticks to your forehead as you continue to sweat. You try to move, to drag yourself somewhere but your body refuses. You lay there, your eyes open despite them wanting to close. The static is still strong, just like the buzzing. They scream danger but your body refuses to listen.

As more time passes, you feel yourself slowly going numb, your eyes fluttering every now and then, trying to close. The static slowly starts to fade away until it’s back to the normal, barely there, state. The buzzing fades into a gentle hum, it barely being able to be heard. You can hear how heavy your breaths are and see the pure white of the snow. One of your hands is in front of you, pale and slowly turning blue. Frostbite will, or already has, set in. Were you going to die out here? Here, all alone. Nothing to your name. No one looking for you besides your parents. Who would find your body? Or would the masked man hide your body away, letting it decay somewhere?

You can hear the crunch of the snow and gentle humming coming your way. It seems the man has come for you. His pace is slow, not at all rushed. Soon enough, he walks into your field of vision. He crouches down, sitting on the balls of his feet. His gloved hand is brought up before it comes through your hair. “LoOk At YoU. A sHiVeRiNg, HaNdSoMe MeSs. As MuCh As I lIkE hOw YoU lOoK rIgHt NoW, bEiNg VuLnErAbLe AnD aLl, YoU’rE tUrNiNg BlUe,” As soon as those words leave his mouth, he scoops you up in his arms, holding you close to him tightly. “DoN’t WoRrY. I’lL tAkE gOoD cArE oF yOu. I lOvE yOu ToO mUcH nOt To. YoU’lL bE sAfElY tUcKeD aWaY iN tHaT hOuSe, WiTh Me By YoUr SiDe To KeEp YoU cOmPaNy. NoW dOeSn’T tHaT sOuNd NiCe?”

[adladladl]

2024.

Having failed my second attempt at the Professional Engineering exam, I was left feeling dazed and confused. Am I in the right place? Is this what I want to do?

I know that I can do anything I want so is engineering really the path I want to go down? My personality doesn’t even fit with engineers. In my social life, I thought I could be awkward and shy but compared to some of these engineers, I look like an extroverted social butterfly. Even my way of reasoning and logic seems opposite to how engineers are supposed to think.

Yet, something told me that engineering is the path for me to get to where I want to be.

Aside from my PE exam, I was also let go from my assistant coaching position. Someone I thought was my close friend felt threatened by my way of coaching and leading. I understood that this would free up more time to study but the whole ordeal of how it went down impacted my confidence.

If it weren’t for the director and other assistant coaches meeting with me to hear my side of the story and affirming that I was in the right, I was able to let go of the position and really focus on what I needed to do.

Around July, I signed up for a course to help me pass my exam, which would start in August. A couple weeks after signing up, I met Melanie.

Melanie was almost my dream girl. When it comes to physical appearance and energy level, there’s no one that compares. However, the one small but evidently very significant, was our spiritual connection. I felt your spirit and you felt mine. It was strong but subdued like strong magnets that were placed just far enough that they didn’t attract but the magnetic field is there. It came to an end abruptly but it worked out for the best. Things ended right in the middle of my course.

I thought this was it. Known for being emotional and a helpless romantic, people should’ve bet on me to fail my exam yet again.

December 9, 2024, I passed my exam.

Truth is, I didn’t study as hard or as perfectly as I wanted to. I wasn’t completely sober and fresh minded as I wanted to be during this time. So how did I do?

I did what needed to be done. Learn by doing.

1. Show up and show out

I made it to every single class. No matter how hungover, how tired, or how comfortable it was to stay in bed, I made sure I was in class by 7:30am. Even if I spent the night at someone else’s, one thing was for sure, I was in class the next day.

2. Practice makes perfect

After the course ended, I started with my review. Reading the notes to really understand the concept, redoing examples. After reviewing the notes, I completed the practice problems for each topic, reviewing the questions I answered correctly to ensure my logic was correct, questions I answered wrong to understand where my logic was wrong, and questions I guessed to understand what the heck is going on. I honestly felt really defeated around here. Missing many questions and feeling like there’s too many topics to cover.

3. Game time speed

After completing the review and practice problems, I took three practice simulation exams. For these, I set myself in the test environment. Quiet desk in the library alone, headphones with no music to block out noise, only using resources that will be available during the test, and keeping strict timing. It was after my first test, I knew I could pass this time.

I took a week off work to complete these three tests, taking a day in between to review each test.

4. Game Day

I had already put in what I needed to pass and I knew it. Confidence reaches new heights.

In 2024, I only really wanted one thing. To pass this exam, and I did it.

In 2025, I will:

-pass the survey/seismic exams to obtain my PE License by July

-explore options available with PE (move out of the desert) thru December

-find Mrs.Lee

Thank you Lord for giving me the power, endurance and wisdom to continue on my engineering journey. For 2025, please continue to give me strength so I can strive for greatness in your name.

[wrestlingisfake]

G1 Climax night 1 preview

This is the opening night of New Japan's annual heavyweight singles tournament. This year's format involves twenty men, divided into two blocks of ten. Over the next month, each participant will have one match against each of the other nine men in his block. The goal is to have the best win-loss record among your block.

The top three in each block advance to a knockout stage on July 15 and 17. This is a pretty big change that I'm excited about, because it means more wrestlers will be mathematically alive much later in the block stage. Basically it'll be #2 vs. #3, for the right to face #1, to decide the block winner. Finally, on July 18, the winner of A Block meets the winner of B Block, with the winner earning a trophy, a flag, and the right to challenge the IWGP world champion on January 4, at Wrestle Kingdom in the Tokyo Dome.

A Block: Tetsuya Naito vs. Shingo Takagi - Naito regained the IWGP world title a couple of weeks ago in New York; the title is not at stake throughout the tournament. If Naito wins the G1, he'd earn the right to choose the challenger for Wrestle Kingdom, but I don't expect that to happen. On the other hand, if anyone beats Naito during the tournament, they'll likely get a title shot within the next couple of months, and I definitely see that happening.

Naito won the tournament in 2013, 2017, and 2023. Takagi's personal best is 7-2-1, which would probably be good enough to get out of the blocks this year. This is only the second time these two have met one-on-one; Naito won their last encounter.

Star power aside, the big draw here is that Naito and Shingo are members of the same faction, Los Ingobernables de Japon. I don't expect any dissension in the ranks, but they're also not going to go easy on each other. Takagi's whole style is to clobber the fuck out of dudes, which is a problem when Naito has been visibly banged up for years. The most exciting finish would be for Shingo to score a bit of an upset over his leader, the world champion. But I can't really see them running this match back in September, so I'm picking Naito to win.

B Block: Yota Tsuji vs. Konosuke Takeshita - This is Tsuji's second trip to the G1; last year he debuted with a 3-3-1 record that I found somewhat disappointing given all the hype around him. Takeshita is new to the tournament. He's been affiliated with DDT for years, and his big claim to fame is AEW, but if he's representing any group it's probably the Don Callis Family. Not counting crossover shows like Forbidden Door and All Together, I think this is his first time stepping onto New Japan's cerulean blue canvas.

I like that Tsuji is second from the top because he's one of the guys they need to elevate, and quickly. I don't know that I'd pick him to win the tournament, but I would definitely give him a a lot of key wins, and probably finish in the top three. But he's got a tough draw tonight, because this is a must-win situation for Takeshita.

I think Takeshita will probably end up in the middle of the pack, maybe finishing around 4-5. Newcomers and outsiders tend to only do so well in the G1, and he's both at once. But in light of that, New Japan knows he needs a strong start, and Tsuji is the kind of guy they can feed to someone who needs a strong start.

A Block: EVIL vs. Gabe Kidd - Evil reached the semifinals last year, mostly to tease what a debacle it would be if he won the whole thing, without actually doing it. I can't imagine they'll take it that far again this year. Kidd, the STRONG men's champion, debuted last year with a 2-4-1 record, because he's more concerned with hurting people and freaking out than figuring out how to win. That's a good character for him to play, but this tournament is about results, not tantrums, so he's probably not going to be competitive in the G1 for a couple more years.

Back in the day, whenever two Bullet Club guys faced off in a tournament, they'd do a comedy routine about how one of them is willing to lay down for the other, but then they'd have second thoughts and end up having an actual match. Nowadays, though, they don't even bother to act like collusion is possible--the War Dogs (such as Kidd) are too belligerent, and everybody in House of Torture (like Evil) is too devious. My guess is that Kidd will come out swinging, and Evil will hit a low blow (or get someone else to do it) to level the playing field. Evil should probably win here, although I don't expect him to be a major factor late in the tournament.

B Block: David Finlay vs. Yuya Uemura - Finlay is the IWGP global champion, and he was one of the quarterfinalists in last year's G1. Uemura returned from excursion last fall, so this is his first trip to the big dance. Typically when Young Lions graduate to full-time wrestlers and qualify for the G1, they do very poorly in the first year, so it'll be a moral victory for Yuya to secure even one win. But he's definitely not going to pick up that win here. I expect Finlay to start very strong and then stumble in the home stretch. This is going to be a mugging.

A Block: SANADA vs. Jake Lee - Sanada won the 2020 tournament; last year he went 7-0 in block matches, so you'd have to figure he's a heavy favorite. Lee, coming in from Pro Wrestling NOAH, is appearing in the tournament for the first time.

The big story is that, on July 13, Lee disbanded NOAH's Good Looking Guys stable, turned on his ex-partners, aligned with New Japan's War Dogs, and declared his exit from NOAH altogether. I'm not exactly sure what that means, but this will be our first glimpse of Lee and whatever repackaging he'll undergo for this new direction.

Sanada is an easy pick to win the G1, simply because he lost the world title at the last Wrestle Kingdom, and it'd be straightforward to tell a story about him getting it back one year later. But the easiest story to tell for Sanada in this tournament is if he stumbles early and has to climb out of a hole. So Lee is my pick to win here.

B Block: Jeff Cobb vs. Hirooki Goto - Cobb, the NJPW World television champion, went 8-1 in the 2021 tournament, so he's got what it takes. Goto has won the whole thing, but that was waaaay back in 2008; even his big second-place finish in 2016 feels like a lifetime ago. Much has been made of the way this year's tournament excluded aging mainstays like Hiroshi Tanahashi, Tomohiro Ishii, and KENTA; the fact Goto made the cut suggests they have a purpose for him here. But I suspect that purpose is to finish 2-7 so he can put over a bunch of guys like Cobb.

A Block: Zack Sabre Jr. vs. Great-O-Khan - Sabre was a quarterfinalist last year. Khan (the KOPW champion, for whatever that's worth) has never scored better than 4 wins and 5 losses. Throughout 2024, Sabre has been acting like he knows big things are awaiting him on the horizon, and he's repeatedly commented that he needs to win the G1 this year. He sounds like someone who's been told he's getting a big push. Now, I don't know why he would telegraph that to the audience in such a blatant fashion. So I could be totally off the mark, or he could be feeding us a red herring.

Regardless, I think Sabre will finish in the top 3 for the block. To create suspense about that, though, he should give up some wins against weaker opponents, and I think Khan fits the bill nicely.

B Block: HENARE vs. El Phantasmo - Henare only won one match in his first G1, and only two in his second, and that really pissed me off. I'm always pulling for this guy and being bitterly disappointed. Hopefully that's going to change after he recently won the NEVER championship in the biggest match of his career so far. Phantasmo's personal best isn't much better--three wins, three losses--but I'm not as worried about him finding ways to get ahead.

In 2023 Phantasmo was turfed out of Bullet Club, and he went into last year's G1 feeling incredibly isolated until the Guerillas of Destiny invited him into their stable. In 2024, all the Tongans in GOD have left to join the Bloodline in WWE, so Phantasmo is headed into this year's G1 feeling even more isolated. Will Jado still be by his side? Will he introduce a new look or something? Will he just be a sad sack devoid of motivation? This match will answer those questions. I just hope ELP protects his neck, or Henare will run him down like a truck.

A Block: Shota Umino vs. Callum Newman - You'd think Umino would be pushed as the future of the company, but his G1 debut last year with a 2-3-2 record suggests otherwise. He needs to post a higher score, and it'd be pretty hard not to. Newman is a newcomer, and I wouldn't have expected him to make the cut in 2024 except that he won a six-man tournament to qualify, scoring upset wins over the likes of Kenta and YOSHI-HASHI.

Umino ran into some trouble a month ago when he suffered hip and back injuries in a routine AEW match. I was real curious if he'd even make it to the G1, and he didn't confirm so until this past Monday. I doubt they would rebook the tournament to give him more losses on account of that. But if he's still hurting, this could be a particularly grueling tournament for him. I don't expect Shota to get out of the block, but he could surprise me. As for Newman, he's at the "just happy to be here" level where a 0-9 record is very possible; he's the heavy underdog in all of his matches, including this one.

B Block: Ren Narita vs. Oleg Boltin - Narita debuted in the G1 last year with an anemic 3-4 record. Boltin is entering for the first time, following a six-man qualifying tournament where he knocked Toru Yano, Hiroshi Tanahashi, and Taichi out of the field.

Boltin was a Young Lion when he, Tanahashi, and Toru Yano captured the NEVER trios title a few months ago. I expected that to effectively "graudate" him out of the Young Lions system, and he'd get to pick out custom gear and have his own entrance music. But so far, he's had none of that--even when he qualified for this spot, he was wearing the plain black trunks and they played the generic curtain jerker theme. So maybe this match will be his big coming out moment. Or maybe he just doesn't give a crap, I don't know.

If any other Young Lion made it into the G1 like this, I'd expect him to lose every match. But Oleg is 265 pounds of solid muscle, and they've given him Brock Lesnar's finisher. They have big plans for this guy. Big enough to get past the chicanery Ren Narita brings to the table? Well, we'll see. I think this one could go either way.

[nervousoctoberknits]

july wrap-up!

mini mock neck, book club cardigan

mini mock neck by jessie maed designs

yarn: explorer knits + fibers denali sock in granada (+ olive grove)

finished this little tank a couple weeks ago and ended up getting more length than expected out of the yarn i had. will probably end up making more of these at some point because it was quick and cute but i might size down next time for a bit more negative ease but i didn't check my gauge after blocking so that may have been off.

book club cardigan by sari nordlund

yarn: knit picks wool of the andes in shire heather

i think this is the oldest sweater quantity of yarn that's just been sitting in my stash and i've always known i wanted it to be a cabled cardigan but could never settle on a pattern. as soon as i saw this one, though, i was in love. i'm also enjoying the process of knitting this a lot more than i thought i would, it's enough to keep my brain engaged but intuitive enough that i'm not constantly having to refer to the chart. love this project!

i didn't touch my lily sheer top because it's been stupid hot and i just cannot be bothered to knit with mohair. also because the book club cardi has taken over.

[beepborpdoodledorp]

Another RE:Breach Update

Hey all, I'm back again with more info as to what the hell's been going on with RE:Breach lately. I'll try to keep it short but there is a lot to cover so bear with me.

So, I'll be honest, RE:Breach is not going how I planned. Not in terms of the story or anything, just the factors outside of it. I wanted to keep it a secret, but considering there's basically a 0% chance any of this will actually go the way I wanted it to I'll just reveal it now: the initial plan was to update the character renders, make chapter illustrations, and update the fic with the illustrations and fixed grammar/better sentence structure/etc. Then in November, for the fic's first anniversary, I would drop the official RE:Breach website that would compile the fics, the drawings, and some bonus stuff (wouldn't be removing the fics off AO3, just giving them another place to be read). Then I'd start dropping the sequel fics.

The new character renders are done; I started them in January, and didn't get them done until June. Then I started the chapter illustrations in July: out of the eighteen I had planned, I only got three done. Alongside that I wanted to get a head start with writing the sequel fics, so I started on the midquel, RE:Start, in about April or May or so (I think, I can't pinpoint exactly when I started writing). I literally just finished the third chapter yesterday after months of being stuck on it.

My work ethic is fucked, and it has been for a couple months now. I don't think it has to do with me still recovering from the writing marathon that was RE:Breach itself, I think I've just been hit with a depressive wave with how tired and demotivated I've been for the past few months. And everything that happened in my shitshow country in July didn't exactly help matters. And also my cat being sick and constantly needing to be shuffled to the vet the past week. That's fun.

I came into RE:Breach knowing that, with the sequels I had planned, this would be a multi-year-long endeavor. And I'm still planning on it - RE:Breach's sequels are still not canceled, I love the original game and the fic I've used to expand upon it too much to leave it behind, and the support for it has been so immense and amazing. But a part of me does regret jumping into it so suddenly, even if I did know what I was getting into: after Ruin released I just had a giant burst of creative energy I needed to get out, so I started writing RE:Breach with little planning and even less for the sequels. And, aside from basic outlines of what I want the sequels to be about and a few specific scenes, I still don't have much to go off of for them.

I know that all of these deadlines and the pressure that comes from them is really no one's fault but my own: no one's asking me to get the chapter illustrations and fic update out by a certain time, no one's asking me to get the website out by the anniversary, and no one's asking for the sequels to be out by a certain date. But considering it's now been six months since RE:Breach ended and I promised sequels, and I thought there would be sequels out by this point (the pride month prequel oneshot doesn't count I literally made that last minute because I had artist's block), I feel beyond icky that I'm still stuck polishing the first fic when I should've had it in the absolute best state it could be in when I first released it. 

TL;DR: RE:Breach is still alive, I am just going at the pace of a sloth that snorted molasses because depression is a little bitch and also all of the external factors in my life are going batshit too. I will complete everything I planned for RE:Breach even if it takes me a decade - which I really, really hope it won't.

[itsbenedict]

WK reviews +10 lessons (i know i posted about being done, but they just added ten more- they’re doing this new kana vocabulary thing which is a nice learning tool but kind of diluting the purpose of the product)

at work: actually do the logging this time

cal introduction up through puzzle segment

calculate hits and misses

the thing i'm discovering about delivering a story- even a deliberately rough prototype version of a story- via a locked Discord channel, is... editing is tricky. you can't put in "[placeholder for image]" and then put the image in later- or, actually i think in that specific case you can, by relying on the auto-embed of cdn.discordapp links, and like... uploading the content in another secret channel- but i'm not sure that's gonna fly for audio content or file uploads. and if you want to move things around or insert large blocks of extra content, it's going to be a pain in the ass.

i think... i'm going to need to do a couple things to make this work. i'm going to need, like... a draft channel and a real channel, and post the updates to the real channel only once i've worked out the formatting in the draft channel? it's not easy to just cut and paste whole blocks of content without messing with the newline formatting a bit, but it should work...

the other thing is- i think at the pace i'm going, i'm on track to technically have all the content ready to launch by the end of the week, but... from Saturday through Wednesday is going to be a pretty significant whirlwind of life stuff, visiting family for the 4th of July and having to host people. it's probably not the best move to launch at a time when i won't have time to manage those crucial first impressions, just to meet a self-imposed deadline. i'm going to try and have it all ready to go by Friday night, but then hold off on promoting and launching it until the week after.

[frumdyke]

a breakdown of how i planned and managed this since ive had some people ask:

im writing this just after getting back from a new years eve party. i barely drunkn anything so in theory this should be pretty coherant. unfortunately i have an aversion to commas and apostrophes and also i say the word and way too much. this is gonna be a looong yap i have things to say. oh and the pictures and dates are from me searching through discord messages.

i started planning out the graph at the beginning of july (im going to tit in january.) i used flosscross because im a lil familiar with it but there are probably better programs to use for this because its meant for cross stitch not crochet. i ended up with 17 different colours plus the background. if you include the dark blue and magenta thats 20 separate yarns all together. heres the final graph i worked with (from my discord messages i think this was the 5th of july but i seem to remember spending at least a week on the graph)

before this the most complicated and only tapestry crochet i had done had only three colours so this was a big leap and i didnt know if it would actually work (note that i started crocheting in october 2023.) i knew i would have to keep everything very organised and i would spend most of the time untangling yarns. and i knew it was all gonna be floating yarn but i didnt know at the time that lots of floats and colour changes would make the project smaller. so the cardigan did come out quite tight across my shoulders.

next was gathering yarn. i pulled a few from my stash but most i had to buy. i went yarn shopping in person in two separate trips. i had the list of colours from flosscross which were all in cross stitch terms. as i got home with my first yarn haul i decided to print the colour list and taped some ends to it so i could compare

my printer didnt like this so the colours arent completely accurate. i went back to hobbycraft for more yarn and i had this paper in one hand and the pdf on my phone in the other and i was panicking because this didnt seem possible. i spent a couple hours lamenting that i wasnt in the usa where i have heard about the fabled joanns that has more than ten whole colours in most yarns. i wasnt confident enough to order online because i wanted to hold the yarns in my hand and directly compare the colours. i finally got together a selection of yarns the were good enough.

the plan was to go for all worsted acrylics because theres no way i could afford nice fibres for all these colours. as i went around the shop i realised i was just gonna have to get whatever colours would work and ignore the fibre make up because there is not enough choice of anything in british craft shops. i ended up with lots of different things but surprisingly the fancier fibres where all acrylic blends. so i got some nylon/acrylic some cotton/acrylic and some wool/acrylic. and some yarns were recommending 3.5mm or 3.25mm hooks but i decided to just ignore that and hope. by this point i had decided this was a complete experiment and if it didnt work out i could just learn cross stitch like a sane person would.

i laid out all my yarns and cried a bit because i did not anticipate how much planning i would have to do before i could start making shit. then i decided which yarn would correspond to which symbol on the chart and labelled them all. i was finally ready to start the actual crocheting part (10th july)

i printed the graph out so i could highlight as i went along and got going. here is how she looks now after its all done say hi

the tapestry part was extremely tedious and the yarns constantly got tangled. the rows were only 80 stitches long and some took me a whole hour each. i had to frog some parts but mostly i just left the mistakes in. my tension was really off because of the different yarns weights but i just said "im sure i can block it out" (i have never blocked anything before.) there are a huge amount of yarn tails on this thing so i didnt bother weaving threm in. i just tied them together so they wouldnt unravel and figured i could learn to sew a lining in to hide all the mess away. my number one takeaway from this is do not ever do a project that requires a double digit amount of yarns attached at once. it will suck and you will hate the process.

here are some progress pics. i wish i had taken more but i was quite fed up with the whole project by this point

i thought this was gonna turn out awful at had to fight the urge at multiple points. once i got to their faces i felt a bit better about it but then i got to phil's eyes and had a small breakdown. he is so pale and cool toned with cool toned hair wearing a cool toned outfit. his face and hair just all blends together and his eyes look a little demented here. dan has contrast between his face and hair so he turned out actually quite good.

anyway heres the finished tapestry part (12th august)

dans cheek bulges like that because the pink i used there is the heaviest weight. look at how cinched the middle is though. there were so many yarns being carried across. and the back is just fully spaghetti.

i immediately started planning the sleeves. i knew from the start i wanted them to say "terrible influence" but i had to decide whether it should read from the front or back. either way one side would end up reading "influence terrible". in the end i decided it should read correctly on the back and to also have the writing on the back of the arms so the front wouldnt look too out of wack.

i looked for some patterns online so i could get an idea of where the increases on the sleeves would be. i ended up with 77 rows for the sleeves and i thought "hmm thats seems kinda short but i shall trust the process" (spoiler alert it was too short.) then i went back into flosscross and drew out a whole sleeve and then stuck a big TERRIBLE on it. this part was annoying cus flosscross hides the copy + paste feature behind a paywall. so i had to draw out every letter individually. even the Rs which are literally repeated right next to each other. then i individually drew the magenta shadows in and tried to understand why i chose flosscross of all things to do this. i mirrored the sleeve and stuck an INFLUENCE and then realised id put it in the wrong place but luckily you can select and move bits around without paying.

i cant remember but i think this is when i did the front panels? i thought i did them after the sleeves but from the dates in discord it doesnt look like it. idk. i didnt really do much planning and i cant find any pictures so just imagine some plain blue crochet. i worked up the bottom section pretty fast and just estimated when to decrease by holding it up against my body. then i hated the shape i made so i frogged half of it and started the decreases way earlier and got a nice slope i was happy with.

then i actually made the sleeves. i had to frog the influence side because i realised i had drawn the shadows in wrong. i have some progress pics but i remember i was very excited to make the joke "ive made a terrible" and then never actually made the joke (first is 27th august and last is 10th september)

i sewed up the sleeves and shoulders and left it at that for a while. if you saw the wip photos i posted here for october 19th this is where i was up to. except this was still on 10th september

i took a break from this project started work on a jumper for my mum. that i had already been promising her for six months. that came out really small so i had to make some adjustments and ended up taking forever. i realised that my tension had probably gotten much tighter than when i made my previous jumpers. so the stitch counts i was working with were probably way off for both the jumper and the phardigan. i didnt do any gauge swatches and it shows.

at this point it was november. and i was still burnt out on the phardigan. in this break i bought a ticket to a third tit show. and also had some other life advancements like finally getting an insulin pump which i will never shut up about. i made a couple lil amigurumi creatures and then i was like okay im ready to get going. lets get this phardigan done.

the next step was to add a lining. so i thought maybe i should block it before then. i had no experience with blocking but i did my grandpa's steamer and some floor space. i did try pinning the project down to the towel but that didnt work. and i thought "hmmm perhaps it would best to wetblock this actually" but i didnt want to wait for it to dry. i was also very scared to kill the acrylic cus i wasnt sure how fried plastic would interact with the other fibres. so overall it was a very weak wimpy block. here she is anyway (7th december)

this was a rushed job but i had still spent too long sitting on the floor and my disabilities were playing up and i was struggling. so i half-arsed cutting up the pieces for the lining (i used a brushed cotton pillowcase in a close enough colour for this.) i didnt measure i just went for it. and then i realised my poor left handed brain cant cut a straight line on the best of days. but especially with heavy fabric scissors and an already aching body. yes i know rotary cutters exist. no i dont have one. anyway i forced my sister to cut out all the straight lines for me. i had one big piece that covered the back and went over the shoulders to cover the boobs too. the back was to hide all the yarn spaghetti but the boob lining was just so i could wear pins extra securely. i decided to leave the sleeves alone because the floats were short and the ends were neatly weaved in. then i laid out my big lining piece and folded over the raw edges and realised i hadnt actually factored in any seam allowance and it wouldnt cover the whole width. but i still went with it because i am lazy <3. i also cut out some pockets.

before i sewed the lining in i embroidered this little telly on the front. i thought the front was looking a little bare and it matches the tit set. haha tit set on my tits. look at her shes cute (8th december)

the lining is hand sewed. mostly because i have a comfier chair at my pc desk than the desk with my sewing machine and i couldnt be bothered with swiching them. also my sewing machine can only handle straight stitch at the moment. sad! anyways i did it all with a running stitch and doubled over some parts. i also discovered when i had done almost all the sewing that none of the right angles my sister cut out were actually right angles so i was adjusting the hem on the fly (8th december)

the hand sewing felt like it took ages but in reality was only a few days. at this point i was vibrating with excitement because the finish line was in sight. anyway look there are pockets (10th december)

look how curled those corners are. i am getting an awful grade in blocking

then i did the ribbing which is super easy. originally i had planned to do the ribbing in magenta but now after seeing more stuff about tit i think the blue fits much better with the colour theme. i went round the bottom edge in blo hdc and then did the front too with a little pause to figure out where to put the buttonholes (12th and then 23rd december)

notice theres a jump in the dates there. my brother very kindly gave me the flu and i was unable to get out of bed for a week. ive had the flu vaccine and it still hit me like a truck. pretty please dont infect your disabled friends im barely holding it together as it is. oh sidenote btw if any of you come up to me at tit without a mask on i might actually cry at you. please mask please mask please mask.

yah anyway i added more length to the sleeves. remember when i said the sleeves were too short? yeah i had to add 28 whole rows lol. i dont have any pictures because i did this while watching the doctor who xmas special (mid episode btw) but ill take one now because the phardigan is currently living under my pc desk. i did the extra rows in the round so theres a seam that suddenly disappears but i think it looks fine. and then the sleeve ribbing is sc instead if hdc because i wanted to cinch the cuff in a little bit but not too much. i also got to watch the new wallace and grommet film. i liked it but i had to explain to my sister who the penguin was??? she doesnt know any of the lore??

um so after the sleeves were done i just had to sew on the buttons and weave all the remaining ends in. and then it was fucking finished? just like that. at 22:14 on the 26th of december i sent this message

which was last thursday actually!? insane how time works. and then i posted this on friday and it somehow got 400 notes? it was weird when it was complete. it was like finishing a book. with that weird emptiness that comes with it.

i do have to thank everyone in the various phannie discord servers ive been sharing my progress in. ive had lots of people hype me up and cheer me on. one thousand kissies attack to all of you <3

im very glad this project actually worked. and that i dont have to learn cross stitch. because instead i just started learning to knit. which i am very excited about. last night i started learning colourwork and i am happy to report i havent had any insane ideas yet. but we will check in after ive done a big colourwork project and see how i feel then. maybe dnp will announce another tour and then i will have no choice but to make another phardigan.

um so thanks for reading i guess? im sure my rambling devolved towards the end there but im not reading it back 👍i dont think i hit image limit but i wouldnt be surprised if everything breaks when i press post. if anyone has questions please ask away i love yapping about this project. my ask box is open and waiting. its 6am now and lots of americans are wishing me a happy new year. 2024 was most definitely the year of the phannie and im hoping we can get a streak going. i love you, try new things, dont cry craft etc etc

THE PHARDIGAN IS FINISHED !!!!!!

now with a lining and pockets <3 so many hours spent on this thing im glad its done now

i will be wearing her at tit brighton and london so if you see me come say hi i promise im nicies

[tera-91]

Mid-June Rant

Im not sure when Ill post this.

July 2nd is when 2024 will be half way over. Even though as I start to write this post it is only June 1st. It feels like Ive spent half of the year already. Like Ive wasted half of the year.

Or rather I cant shake off the last half. When 2024 began I felt like it was Spring oddly enough. Like a new beginning. The first quarter went by and I kept doing the same thing over and over again. Then April hit and I decided to turn my world as I knew it upside down.

Wow that sounds dramatic.

Not really.

Just that I needed to make a change.

My first thought was to go back to school. To do something that I could make what I was in a week in a day. In reality it would probably take me a couple of days. Which wouldn’t be bad. I would more than double my income. The only problem would be that it will take me about 3 and a half years to get there.

That is quite a while to stay at a job that, deep down, I wasn’t happy. I get that it cant be great all the time. But everyday. I would go into work, either pissed off that I was there. That I felt like I was wasting my time. And if I wasn’t mad, or frustrated. I certainly was watching the clock and ready to walk out of the door.

The manager that was directly my boss I guess, was a inconsiderate jackass. But the other one I feel so much respect for. This manager wants to see if things can be talked out with the other manager. But even if that’s the case I feel like that one is such a vindictive tyrant. I don’t want to work for them. I just don’t know how to tell the other manager. Theres nothing else I can do. Nothing else I want to do.

I feel like I need to make a change.

But I have no one to talk it out with.

My friends say that I should take a break. My family is just wishy washy. I should do what I want. I wish I could talk to my dad. I feel like he could understand my brain better. The only other person that gets it is my sibling. Although we got different versions of neuro-spiciness. My sibling has quite a different choice of words for that manager though… I would rather not repeat.

Im not sure how many times Ill tell myself that I need to take a break. To make a change before I actually believe it. Or rather before I actually do something about it.

_____

Im not sure how many days its been since I wrote any of the previous stuff. Ive been doing a bunch of little things.

I feel like Im less stressed, I looked in the mirror the other day and realized, my shoulders were more relaxed.

Ive gotten a few things done. I got at least 3 videos made. I edited audio on another to come out hopefully soon. Ive written a little more.

Im exploring more.

Once I finish writing this Im going to tackle some things again. Try to get more done in my Roman story series. I hadn’t planned on making it a series but I ended up starting 4 stories with Roman for some reason, I don’t feel like I connect a whole lot with his character in comparison to Virgil. Then one day I was out with my pups and a thread appeared in my head. Connecting these 4 stories but I will have to make an additional one to make a 5 story series.

If youre interested in that, hopefully I wont make you wait too long for it. Im just struggling slightly as when I started the first one it was going to end differently so Ive been trying to add and shift things as I go.

I think I have a little bit of a block going, not necessarily in coming up with the story but to actually sit and write it. My brain is struggling to figure out which to tackle first.

Do I write? I have a bunch of different things that I need to write.

Do I record? I’m having a bit of an issue with my voice at the moment but I can at least prepare things to record.

Then there is the issue of income. I know logically at the moment I am lucky enough to have the option to step away from my source of income due to issues. But it is going to be a problem, I just don’t know how soon now. I have a medical thing going on that I will need to spend a not so small amount of money on which was not an issue prior to when I decided to take this path.

So I do think of that. Once that is hopefully taken care of in the real short future I will be able to tackle two things that I have a potential to get income in. Do I set up a patreon? It would be something to potentially help right now. I have applied for several jobs and have had at least 1 interview so far.

Part of me feels silly for thinking this. I mean I did decide to do a thing and this is the consequence of taking that action. But at the same time, I don’t regret making that decision.

Ill try to write the Roman stories but if that doesn’t seem to work I think I will try to get a little editing done.

_____

Right so a few days later and I’m still in job limbo apparently. Certain things happened in recent days. Didn’t get any of the Roman stories done yet.

Going to work on that and everything else that I need to work on.

I just need to do stuff as I have time. It doesn’t matter if I know I only have 5 minutes or if I jump on it and only get to spend that amount of time on it.

Off to make a list of things that I need to get done. Maybe if I have a visual representation of what is on my mind it will help.

[nathank77]

5/14/24

7:18 p.m Added to/Edited

I fell asleep by 6 a.m. The combo of the 3 knocked me the fuck out. I woke up at 12 and I really needed to pee but I didn't let myself bc I wanted one more hour. So I fell back to sleep after hearing a sorta scream from my auditory hallucination cause yea that's how I know I'm falling back to sleep....

Then I woke up at 1 p.m, I used the bathroom and decided to get my bloodwork done for my thyroid bc I had to do it sometime this week or next. Last month I did it on the 16th of April. So the 14th isn't too bad. I had extra time and made the appt at 2 p.m and then made it to my doctor's at 3:15 p.m.

I didn't have much to talk to her about. I mentioned very briefly that I didn't sleep well for a couple weeks of April. I was very brief. I told her the Hydroxyzine with the Xanax helps me stay asleep longer. I brought up the ER visit and my cardiologist appts. I asked her about the right branch block and it could be bc of the wire placement. So that's hopeful. I also showed her my tongue again. And I asked to get my testosterone levels pulled before my next shot. So that's scheduled for next week right before my testosterone shot. I got to be there at 3:30 p.m now cause I haven't had my levels done in a very long time. Granted I've been on the same dose 99% of my whole journey on testosterone. For a few months I was on 1.1 instead of 1 ML but other than that it's been consistent.

She was okay with seeing me in August for my physical but I was like well I always have problems so she had me schedule something for July to see me after my cardiologist appt. She also gave me 25mg of metopolol. Incase. My heart rate was 103 there which is high.

I was in another room so idk if its accurate but appearantly I'm 179 pounds now. Which means I lost another 2 pounds since last week... was it bc the scale is slightly off? Or is my dieting continuing to cause healthy weight loss? With the combination of white mulberries? Or am I hyper? I'll at least find out if I'm hyper, Hypo or normal soon from the Bloodwork..

I'm worried that she's loosen the leash and not going to give me Xanax anymore... she didn't say that but she was keeping a tight leash on me wanting to see me every month or month and a half and then she was okay with seeing me in August at the end of August... that's why I was like umm I'd like to see you sooner... idk. She was just happy I'm sleeping and getting better quality sleep. I don't really think she's taking it away or going to perscribe a placebo if she ever did cause- I had heart palpitations which are withdrawal effects and my brief mention of not sleeping well for a couple weeks of April will tell her if I ever was prescribed a placebo it did not work as well as the actual medication...

But who knows if it was a placebo or not. And I know I'm just worried cause like I know Xanax is the only reason I fall asleep. She's prob just loosen the leash cause I'm not asking for more and I'm on top of my health. If I didn't have the physical I'm sure she would have wanted to see me in a couple months.

Yet I worry. But we will see. I don't think she's going to take it away/ give me a placebo but I can't help but worry.

Also i gave her my paperwork for the MRI and I should be able to schedule that tomorrow hopefully before the 28th bc if I don't get it done by then I can't get it done.

I went out for waters cause I didn't plan to today but I realized I needed them... and I didn't want it on my list of things to do tomorrow cause I was supposed to go grocery shopping tomorrow and knowing I needed waters would have gave me extreme anxiety and panic.... potentially panic attacks.. it might have effected my ability to sleep.

I grabbed some food and other stuff. I got to go back to the grocery store Friday for other stuff.. the waters was the hardest part bc of the panic but i haven't seen the gross POS for a few weeks.. I hope they fired him but that's happened before I just didn't see him for a couple weeks and then all of a sudden he was there again.

I'm going to new Hampshire prob Saturday. I got to schedule my oil change at Firestone for prob may 28th. My Dr's appts are finally slowing down. I'll prob go to Southington at 5 pm.

Next month i have like the cardiologist on the 26th and just my biweekly Testosterone shot. July I have my insomnia appt and my biweekly Testosterone appts as well as my ENT visit which I think my hearing is getting worse... but whatever I just won't wear my hearing aids so I can find a girl friend...

This month I still got my disability appt at 1:30 Friday...... and I have the dentist next Tuesday at 4:30 as well as my testosterone bloodwork and shot on Wednesday at 3:30... but after next week things will start to slow down. Just got to get disability out of the way, new Hampshire, my testosterone shot and the dentist.... and ideally my oil change which I can charge to my credit card and keep my Firestone card active...

Anyways as of last night I started taking 2000mg of White mulberries... I feel like I noticed almost immediate progress. I'm going to do 2000mg a day unless I get undesired side effects. I had some silence while I wrote my poetry... some. Still not allowed to think about my hallucination without hallucinating but either way I think the combo of 100mg of cbd and 2000mg of white mulberries could help facilitate the pathway and build healthy connections. I just got to work through the narrative the hallucination created.

It says, "the bussy cunt" and it may not be able to finish the sentence sometimes but I have been, "filling in the blank." Bc I heard the phrases so clearly and learned them and it broke my brain in so many more ways than just this constant hallucination... it says, "the bussy cunt" and even if i think a dominant thought like I need to make a sandwich... my back thought is, "feels bad for deadname last name.".. so I'm trying to change the narrative at least saying, feels bad for Nathan last name... but it's hard.

That's the issue it FUCKS UP YOUR WHOLE BRAIN..

Hopefully this combination of supplements make a difference. Idk.

And I hope that I'm really 179 and I'm normal levels... I also hope that my heart rate was only that high bc I was at the doctors White coat syndrome or whatever but who knows. Maybe I'll make it to 170 idk that's hopeful. I'd love to make it to 165. I'd fucking hit the fuck out of that gym.

[velvetvexations]

I was really, really upset by these two in multiple ways but chose to not discuss it. Since they're doing this, however, I'm putting the DM exchanges I had with the asker under the cut. CW for discussion of rape and unethical sexual practices.

Awhile ago I saw discussion about an AITA post on Tumblr from a non-passing trans man that had a "dykebreaking" kink who enjoyed sleeping with lesbians to whom he lied about being cis to get a rush from the idea they were secretly having sex with a man.

princessfemalelesbian (PFL) made this post in response to it on July 1st:

I sent them this ask about it the same day, which was unanswered but preserved and sent to me during the later conversation:

I obliquely referred to this when around that time I mentioned, in a response to an anon, I believe, that I try to be nice even about posts I would otherwise deem extremely hateful when the inciting incident (the AITA) is pretty bad and worthy of getting mad even if the anger is misdirected.

I also want to note ahead of time, because it's a point that bothers me a lot, that it'll later be pointed out to me PFL is 18, which I did not see and "is allowed to not like kink". If I saw she was eighteen I may not have sent an ask at all or at the very least would have spoken more vaguely about kinks, but as should be obvious the point was not really "kinks good" regardless, it was "there's no need to demonize trans men".

I've talked about my extreme paranoia around pedojacketing so it just bothers me a lot that I saw someone posting about how a demographic is evil via projecting rape kinks onto all of them, sent them a message politely trying to convince them otherwise, and then have that person only being eighteen used against me. I literally just had a discussion with an eighteen year old I've been chatting with about how I still wasn't comfortable doing any Friendship Activities beyond Tumblr until they were a bit older. These two did not intentionally trigger my paranoia, but the result is nonetheless stepping on my trigger with spiked cleats.

I previously described the timeline to a friend I was talking to about this this morning as "a couple months" between me sending that ask and punkeropercyjackson (PEPJ) contacting because I have a disordered memory and am bad with time, but I do not believe over a week is any less egregious to have received this out of nowhere:

This was immediately fucking stupid and set me off since I'd gone out of my way to be as polite as I possibly could recognizing that PFL's post was coming from being mad at something that' was legitimately gross, but whatever.

This triggered me hard, even without specific intent, because being framed as harassing people for attempting to engage with them exactly one time is something I've had past experience with including just a little while ago when I reblogged someone's post with my own commentary exactly ONCE and then later that day when they got a bunch of anons mad at them for siding with a convicted rapist I was blamed for it.

Continuing that conversation with PEPJ, with the note that, again, I sent ONE ASK over a week prior:

PEPJ then sent me the screenshots of the ask I posted above. Continued:

So that seemed to go well.

Until this morning when I saw a post PEPJ had made about femboy being a slur for trans women, and that apparently trans men "melt down" when trans fems use it. Both of these facts are objectively wrong. However, as I repeat throughout the following exchange, I would not have reblogged it had I recognized their URL, because again, I have a disordered memory and I stopped thinking about these people the second I wasn't looking at them.

Thus was the end of it. Addressing the ask and reply:

I can't screenshot because we blocked eachother but velvetvexations commented on my post

You can't screenshot it because I told you I deleted it even before you said you wanted me to. Like, my message that I had deleted it went through before your request. You saw that.

told her to buzz off black people and she said i was 'gaslighting' her because i said she came after you💀The defensiveness white people have against normalized toxicity and refusal to see through black lens for allyship is crazy

I genuinely do not fucking understand where race enters into literally any of this at all.

Honestly I feel so bad for her.

No, you don't.

Even though that post was literally speaking against transmisogyny

If I made a post saying the best way to combat transmisogyny was pumping CO2 into the atmosphere, it being "against transmisogyny" does not give it inherent worth.

it’s like she thinks that trans men are innocent widdle babies with no male privilege to speak of who are always victims and who can never do anything harmful to a trans woman ever

I acknowledged the AITA was bad but most of the shit transmascs are accused of is the most petty and completely made-up issues I've ever seen in my life. Trans men can be harmful to trans women but people rarely talk about genuine cases of that actually happening.

She is literally the transfem equivalent of a pick-me

It's literally just being an ally to people who are victimized and then have their victimization erased by assholes who ascribe to them oppressive power they do not possess.

constantly apologizing for and defending trans men even when they are in the wrong and are being wildly transmisogynistic

I've not apologized for anyone, ever. The people I side with in cases like this (meaning not the AITA, because I was explicitly not siding with him) have done literally nothing at all. Occasionally the transmasc people I've come to be in community with will actually disagree to some extent, like believing the How to Pick Up Trans Women article was at least somewhat transmisogynyistic when I think it was completely and totally harmless, but this never wins them points and they continue to get painted as TMRAs who hate trans women.

It’s honestly so sad to witness, and I do very much hope that she develops some self-worth and self-respect soon, and learns to stop constantly deferring to trans men and acting like they can never be called out for anything, are never in the wrong, and always need to be defended against any accusation, even when they hurt and oppress the trans women in their own communities. It's such a shame

Yeah, I feel the same way about the transmascs in your life.

I can't screenshot because we blocked eachother but velvetvexations commented on my post i sent you(the fb slur one)so i had enough and told her to buzz off black people and she said i was 'gaslighting' her because i said she came after you💀The defensiveness white people have against normalized toxicity and refusal to see through black lens for allyship is crazy

Honestly I feel so bad for her. Even though that post was literally speaking against transmisogyny she still insists on caping for trans men and absolving them of any part that they might play in enabling transmisogyny, it’s like she thinks that trans men are innocent widdle babies with no male privilege to speak of who are always victims and who can never do anything harmful to a trans woman ever, and yet transfems can be “transandrophobic” lol cuz that’s a real thing. Sure. 🙄

She is literally the transfem equivalent of a pick-me, constantly apologizing for and defending trans men even when they are in the wrong and are being wildly transmisogynistic. It’s honestly so sad to witness, and I do very much hope that she develops some self-worth and self-respect soon, and learns to stop constantly deferring to trans men and acting like they can never be called out for anything, are never in the wrong, and always need to be defended against any accusation, even when they hurt and oppress the trans women in their own communities. It’s such a shame.

[sunjaesol]

#23 gives off such strong juke wedding cake ceremony vibes i want to CRY

23. A kiss that tastes of the food/dessert they are eating

(brother's best friend au)

Julie's eyes scrolled over the peanut butter chocolate chip cookie recipe: all-purpose flour, baking soda, baking powder, sea salt, unsalted butter, peanut butter, sugar, eggs, vanilla, chocolate chips.

LF Performing Arts High School had a bake sale tomorrow, and Julie had uncharacteristically forgotten about it until Kayla sent her a reminder. She was just so busy with assignments and piano lessons, that cookies were the last thing on her mind.

Julie was stubborn, however, and refused to relent and buy a box of cookies from the grocery store. She was better than that. Dumping the dry ingredients into a large bowl, she started folding them together.

Upstairs, a bark of laughter erupted from Reggie's bedroom. As always, her brother had invited Luke over. He basically lived here at this point. Reggie became friends with Luke in their Freshman Year, when Julie was in Eighth Grade, and hadn't left each other's side since. They were seventeen now. Alex Mercer often joined them, but it was always Reggie and Luke.

Blocks of softened butter and eggs fell into the flowery mess. Grabbing the mixer, Julie blended it into a smooth dough, adding the rest of the ingredients in the end. Few curls had fallen out of her bun. Aggravated, her lips pressed together as she puffed and kept them away from the mixture.

By the time her fingers clung with cookie dough, molding it into discs, the boys ran downstairs.

"Julie," Reggie called, gliding into the kitchen, "Dad's asked me to pick up Carlos from baseball. Can you do it?"

Her brows raised and held up her hands. "What do you think?"

Her brother groaned. Behind him, Luke appeared and hoisted himself up on the free space of the kitchen island. He eyed the sheet of cookies curiously, though didn't say anything. Julie's gaze lingered on him for a prolonged beat before she forced herself to address Reggie.

"It's literally not that big of a deal," she argued. "You know I have the sale tomorrow. And I picked up Carlos last week."

"I have Luke over."

"Luke's always over."

"That's true." Luke chimed in, much to Reggie's dismay. The boy looked at his friend as though he'd committed treason. Julie hid her smile behind a loose curl, amused. "C'mon, man, I'll be okay here. I'll do homework, or something."

Reggie snorted. "Sure." It seemed resolved, though, and he grabbed the car keys from the counter. They jingled around his finger. "I'll be back in a snap!"

Luke and Julie waved goodbye at her brother. The moment the front door closed and silence encased the house, did her heart rate tick up. Peeking at Luke, she already found him staring at her.

The effect of having Luke over all the time, of having him be Reggie's closest friend, was that he also got to know Julie. Breakfasts, dinners, school hallways, car rides, trips to the movies, concerts. They became close as well. Only... Reggie didn't know that.

So close, in fact, that they kissed a couple months ago at a Carrie Wilson house party. In a dark hallway. For, like, thirty minutes straight. And then they continued doing that several times afterwards.

Julie knew it was typical of her: of course she had a thing for her brother's best friend.

(How could she not? He had dreamy green eyes and fluffy brown hair and a perfect smile and he wore sleeveless shirts and played the guitar the same way he spoke to her: impassioned and electric.)

Luke hopped off the island and slid beside her, tucking a curl behind her ear. "It smells good."

"Thanks," she smiled.

"Have you tasted it yet?"

She shot him a strange look. "Of course you're the type of person to eat raw dough."

"C'mon," he drawled, looming over her with an infuriating grin. Anticipation swarmed in her stomach, her hands at her sides to refrain from touching him. "You're not even curious?"

"I know it's good. I've made the recipe before."

Sticking out his index finger, he went for the bowl. She slapped it away.

"Jules!" he exclaimed, scandalised.

"This is for the bake sale!" she chastised, but her voice was light and teasing. Jules, she loved that nickname. "If you want to taste, use a spoon."

With a roll of the eye, he moved around her and opened the cutlery drawer, grabbing a spoon and finally dipping it into the dough. Julie continued pressing the remainders into the baking sheet, perfect circles lining each other like soldiers. From the corner of her eye, she watched Luke taste it.

He hummed, pleased, and directed the spoon to her. It still had a dollop of dough on it. "You try."

It honestly sucked keeping their attraction a secret. They weren't in a relationship, but acted like a real couple when they were alone. They texted until she fell asleep, he snuck excerpts of unfinished songs in her locker to know out what she thought of it, she conveniently did her homework at the diner he worked at. It was almost perfect it hurt. Julie didn't want to upset Reggie and Luke didn't want to lose his best friend.

So, she took the chances as they popped up. Like now.

Pushing his hand aside, she stretched on her tiptoes and kissed him. The spoon clattered on the island, his arms instantly curling around her to keep her pressed against him. Her mouth puckered into a smile at the taste of cookie dough on his tongue. Giggling, she tilted her head back and felt him chase her, nose bumping against her chin.

"You taste like peanut butter," she laughed.

Luke smiled, "You always eat PB&J sandwiches, so that's a win to me."

There was something tender in his gaze as he said it. The words were casual, but his intent gaze and soft tone made her feel weak in the knees. God, she liked him. She really really liked him and his stupid comments.

He kissed her again and again, until she reminded him in a haze that she had to finish her cookies. Luke didn't take that as a hint to give her space. Instead, he hugged her from behind and watched from over her shoulder as she prepared the last of the dough into discs. It felt like a move plucked straight from the 90s rom-coms she and Flynn liked to watch.

Finally, Julie placed the tray into the oven. Had they been aware of the time, they would know that out of rush hour, it wouldn't take Reggie that long to pick up Carlos from practice. But kissing Luke — being with Luke — made her mind deliciously empty.

The front door swung open.

"Whoa."

The couple jumped apart in fright and whipped their heads to the sound. It was Carlos. The boy stared at them with his eyes wide like saucers, equal amounts aghast and disgusted. "What the heck."

Julie shot towards him with her hands clasped together. "Carlos, I'm begging you, do not tell Reggie. You didn't see anything."

Her tween brother was a menace, though, and raised a cocky brow. "Lemme think... no."

Julie groaned, considered the idea of murdering her little brother, and almost acted on it, when Luke jumped in to help. With a dazzling smile, he said: "Carlos, I'll play League Of Legends with you if you don't say something."

"Say what?" Reggie walked through the door, oblivious to what had just transpired.

Carlos' mischievous expression turned innocent and toothy. "Luke's gonna play League Of Legends with me!"

Julie's eyes closed in relief. Thank God her brother couldn't resist bargaining. Luke's hand, that had found its way on the small of Julie's back, fell to his side. She already missed it.

"Oh!" Reggie appeared surprised. "That's cool of you, buddy."

Luke shrugged. His cheeks were red. "No big deal."

"I'm, um." Her voice sounded strained, not her own, rather one of a girl that has lied to her brother for months about the boy she was kissing just moments ago. "I'm gonna— go. To the studio."

Reg eyed her strangely. "You okay?"

"Yep." Julie put her thumbs up. "I ate some of the batter and I'm feeling a little woozy, so, um—" Gaze flitting from a guilty Luke to a confused Reggie and smug Carlos, she left her sentence open-ended and beelined to the studio.

God, liking her brother's best friend might be the best and worst decision of her life.

///

send me kiss prompts for juke!