#And all you need is a disc! (Frisbee-like thing)

[buckybarneshasmyheart]

disc golf lets gooooooooo it’s so funny that Jo one knows what it is, yet it’s like a fundamental part of my life

If you could make a "sports" anime about any less popular game/sport/competition you want, which would you choose?

board game, card game, playground game, sport, whatever. if you could have an anime meticulously describe the rules and play of any game while making it look incredibly cool, which would you choose?

My brother and I always talk about how much we want a disc golf anime.

[twstedreamweaver]

Missing Magazines

Octavinelle with a Fashion Model Reader

How would the Octavinelle boys react to you being a model? Based on the premise that you, the reader, are a model and are featured in a popular fashion magazine that Sam sells at the school - except when you go to buy one, you realize that someone bought out almost all the magazines. Who could it be?

Things to mention: Azul never stopped signing contracts with people and the Octotrio are still shady. Reader is slightly different from canon Yuu. Also, this is my first fanfic, so I apologize in advance for any inconsistencies with POV! Twisted Boys featured: Azul, Jade, Floyd

The warm sun was a welcome surprise after several dreary weeks of intermittent rains and grey skies. Throngs of students were happily milling about on the central lawn, some boys from Savanaclaw were throwing a Spelldrive Disc like a frisbee, and you spotted some Ignihyde students actually touching grass for once.

With the passing of the Spring rains, Night Raven College seemed to spring back to life with the touch of a little sunshine.

And just in time for the release of the summer edition of one of the top magazines in Twisted Wonderland, Fleurs de la mode. However, this edition was special - it was your first official modeling gig for a fashion magazine.

Admittedly, when you were first scouted by a modeling agent at the NRC's Song and Dance Championship, you were hesitant (I mean, after dealing with the outrageous amount of con artists at NRC, who wouldn't be skeptical), but the Fleur City Associates modeling agency turned out to be legitimate. After some back and forth with your agent, and several gigs later, you got the opportunity to model for a popular fashion magazine on account of your unique "otherworldly'" flair, which you assumed was a weird compliment from one of your managers. Regardless, your nerves had long since worn off with the first paycheck (thaumarks are hard to come by) and now you were excited to see your hard work in print.

"Welcome back, my little imp." Sam waved from behind the counter. "What can I conjure for you today?"

"Good morning, Sam!" You smiled, "I heard that you just got in the newest edition of Fleurs, could I buy one off you?"

Sam gave you a peculiar look, before smiling - wait, was that a trace of a smirk?

"I do apologize little imp, but I am fresh out of stock. Those magazines flew off the shelves this morning."

"Wait, but didn't you just open like thirty minutes ago?"

You were a bit disappointed. On one hand, you didn't really need the magazine, but on the other hand, it would've been nice to have at least some proof of your accomplishment in this strange world. At a school where magic was the highest priority, it was nice to finally be known for something that wasn't just your lack of magic ability.

"Yes but, eh hee hee, it seems the magazine was quite popular this time around." Sam snickered. You sighed.

"However," Sam continued, "You've lucked out this time little imp, For the same price as a magazine, I can tell you who bought out half my stock. I'm certain that you can get one from him for free!"

"Thanks Sam, for the, uh, considerate offer, but I think I'll pass!" You remarked, trying to think of who might have bought out such a large stock of magazines.

"Are you certain, my little imp?" Sam leaned over the counter, smiling, a bit too maliciously for your liking. "Don't you want to see your magazine debut firsthand?" Huh?

You were only featured on a few pages, so how did he even know you were in there? Did he actually read the fashion magazine? Looking at his attire, you find that highly doubtful.

"How'd you know about that?" You inquired, trying not to sound overtly suspicious.

"Why else would so many imps be standing in line outside my shop at seven in the morning?" Sam, for sure, was smirking this time.

No way. How did this get around? You felt your face go hot, suddenly embarrassed. Hold on, you reasoned with yourself. Vil is a model too, along with some other Pomefiore students, so students modeling shouldn't be a shock to anyone!

But if the reason the magazines sold out so quickly was - that is, if Sam's not tricking you - because of your shoot, then why would anyone buy half of the entire stock? Especially at Sam's ridiculous prices.

You sighed; you'll figure this out later.

"I'm good, Sam. Thanks for the offer, but I've got to get going to my next class." You quickly backed away from Sam and ducked out the front door before he could cut you off with another suspicious offer.

"Come back anytime little imp!" The door swinging shut behind you as Sam big you goodbye.

God, was there a single good person in this school??

Wait, a realization suddenly hit you. The guy who bought half the magazines, was it-

——-

You practically stomped across the school, through the mirror room, and into the Octavinelle dorm.

You didn't lie to Sam earlier; you really did have to go to class. And then after four classes and nearly eight hours, you had to go to club. So, now it was practically late afternoon, and you were only now on your mission to hunt down the buyer of some 60+ magazines.

The moment you stepped inside Mostro Lounge, two tall, ominous figures seemed to materialize directly beside you.

"Hello Jade. Hey Floyd."

"Shrimpy!" Floyd exclaimed, before wrapping his long arms around your torso and squeezing tightly.

"Now now, Floyd," Jade smirked, "Let's not squeeze the life out of our little Prefect."

"I'm here to discuss some things with Azul." You told the two 6-foot-tall eels.

You must have sounded agitated because Floyd and Jade quickly took the hit and grabbed onto each of your arms respectively and dragged walked me to the VIP room.

"Now then, who are we to interfere with your business affairs?" Jade let go of your left arm to open the large, ornate VIP room doors.

"Only VIP access for our Shrimpy!" Floyd exclaimed, striding into the VIP room where some student was groveling on his hands and knees, begging Azul for something. I noticed that he had a small anemone sprouting from his head, looks like Azul got another freshman. Grinning, Floyd roughly grabbed the poor student by his shirt collar and unceremoniously threw him out the door.

Jade sinisterly smiled at the boy, before bending down to say something in a hushed tone, causing the boy to squeal and shuffle away frantically. Jade smirked, stood, and walked over to stand beside the seated and slightly flustered Azul, as Floyd slammed the doors.

For once, and to my astonishment, Azul, usually the pristine image of a savvy businessman, looked a little nervous.

You were surprised that he didn't even object to Floyd tossing his client (more likely his victim, given the anemone) out.

Azul pursued his lips and tented his fingers on the table, before taking a breath and seeming to regain his composure.

"Why, (Y/N), to what do I owe the pleasure of your company this evening?"

Azul typically spoke formally and eloquently, but given your and his relationship as friends, his behavior was a little, unusual. Something smelled fishy, and it wasn't the fish swimming outside or the mermen in the room.

You chalked it up to your own misunderstanding of the situation, or to Azul already going into business mode to prepare for what was coming.

"I'm here about the Fleur magazines you bought."

For a brief second, the three (well, more like two, Floyd just seemed slightly humored) seemed to go pale. Azul gave you a blank stare, mouth slightly open, and Jade turned away to focus intently on the wall with a trace of a grimace on his face. Floyd chuckled and looked at Azul.

Weirdos. What is up with them today?

"You're reselling those Fleur magazines for a profit, aren't you?" You continued on.

A brief moment passed. Jade turned back to look at you and Azul quickly snapped back to reality with a small laugh and a smirk.

"Yes! Why, you deduce correctly, Prefect, I did buy the remaining stock in order to resell them. They're quite in high demand, given your popularity amongst the student body."

"I apologize if you wanted to buy one, but I couldn't miss such a lucrative and perfectly legal business opportunity!" Azul cloyingly apologized, gesturing with his hands in a show of mock apology.

Floyd and Jade nodded along in fake sincerity. Seems you guessed right after all.

"Okay, seeing that you're admitting it, I'm not really that mad. But, also, seeing that you're going to profit off my face, I have a proposal."

The three leaned forward. "Do go on," Azul nodded.

"I can sign my picture in one of the magazines, so you can ramp up the price, and, in return, I can get a free magazine."

"Done!" Azul exclaimed, magically flying over a contract to you. You have no idea how he managed to write one so fast, because it seemingly materialized out of thin air.

The contract wasn't wordy and there were no terms and conditions. You suppose it makes sense given how simple the agreement is, but it still seemed quite hasty.

Regardless, after reading it over twice - it is Azul after all - you signed, and Azul magically lifted the contract and pen into his hands and swiftly slid them into some drawer.

While you were reading the contract, Jade quietly ducked out before returning with two magazines in hand. He hovered over your shoulder, before flipping one magazine open to reveal one of your swimsuit model pictures and setting it on the table for you to sign.

You signed, although it felt a little weird autographing something, but it was best 'business' proposal you could come up with.

Jade handed you the other magazine and Azul stood up. You still find the height difference between him and Tweels humorous, although Azul was still taller than you, so you didn't have much room to judge.

"It's a pleasure doing business with you, (Y/N), as always." Azul smiled, fumbling with something out of view in his desk drawer. "Have a good night."

"Want a drink Shrimpy?" Floyd inquired, placing an arm on your shoulder, turning you away from Azul.

"I would be more than happy to make something to your liking." Jade agreed, leading me out of the room. "On the house." He quickly added.

"As much as I'd love to, I have a tutoring session with Riddle. He saw my grade on last week's midterm and almost exploded on the spot."

"Aah, I haven't seen Goldfishy in a while." Floyd wondered aloud. "Hey, Shrimpy," He smiled, "Let me come with ya."

"Absolutely not," Jade remarked with a cold smile that did not reach his eyes, "You have a shift to work Floyd." You have always found the difference between their personalities amusing.

Remembering your appointment, you whipped out your phone to look at the time. Oh no. You had five minutes.

"Shit, I got to go, see you guys later!" You waved and ran off, terrified that you might actually witness Riddle explode this time.

"Goodbye, (Y/N)." "See ya, Shrimpy!"

Two sets of mismatched eyes intently followed you out the door.

------

"JADE." Azul practically screeched, slamming his hands on the table. "Do you know how BADLY that could have gone? Are you insane? You're lucky the prefect thought I was trying to resell them!"

"We're lucky." Jade corrected, carefully and meticulously removing pages from a Fleur magazine at a Mostro Lounge table. Azul threw his hands up in frustration.

"Hey, Azul, I never heard you objecting." Floyd rolled his eyes. "And why are you so embarrassed anyway; you're puffing up like a pufferfish."

"Well now, we have to sell the magazines." Azul huffed to himself and sat down besides Jade and the stack of magazines. "So, stop tearing the merchandise!"

"No." Jade snapped angrily. Realizing, Jade quickly collected himself and returned to his typical collected attitude, resuming his carefully removal of magazine pages, "There is a clear solution - we sell the magazines, just without certain pages featuring the prefect."

Azul stared, deadpan at Jade, clearly exasperated. "And just what are you going to do with half a hundred pictures of the prefect?"

"Remind me, who took one of the magazines after I bought them for 'personal use'?" Jade sneered, meeting Azul's stare, causing Azul to blush and begin stuttering excuses.

"I still don't get why we can't just tell Shrimpy." Floyd shrugged, leaning back in his chair, holding up one of the torn-out magazine pages of (Y/N) standing on a beach, hair blowing in the (fake) wind, dressed in a one-piece swimsuit, with a chic cover-up.

"Absolutely not!" Jade and Azul shouted in unison.

Thankfully, the Mostro Lounge was closed, and no one could hear the three mermen squabbling late into the night.

[gnostichymns]

Life's a Beach ! ✰ Solstice 2024

reblog and send - all interactions count for 1 Shiny Flotsam!

[WATER BALLOONS] - Perfectly good weapons for even the weakest of arms to throw!

[SAND CASTLE] - Build your own, or destroy someone else's. To each their own.

[BURY] - All this sand and all these shovels, why not put them to good use?

[COCONUT] - A classic refreshment, served with two straws. Or you can crack open your own, if you really want to.

[WATERSLIDE] - The rules say one at a time, but who is really enforcing that?

[FRISBEE] - Nothing like a classic game on the sand, just don't lose your disc to the sea...

[PAPER KITES] - What better use of the ocean breeze? There are plenty of materials to make your own.

[SHELL NECKLACE] - No better a gift or souvenir than one strung together by your very own hands!

[SUNSCREEN] - Can't reach that spot on your back? Ask a friend!

[HAT] - A great option to keep cool in the blistering sun, just don't let go of it for too long.

[NOODLES] - What are these foam things? They sure look great for smacking someone with.

[ICE CREAM] - What's summer without ice cream stands at every corner? Careful, these treats melt fast!

[FISHIES] - They come in scales of every color you can imagine, and they're not afraid of you at all. Wonderful to admire, or to eat.

[PHOTOBOOTH] - All kinds of silly accessories have been laid out on a table, with a kamera and tripod set up to document all sorts of sea-side memories.

[LIFEGUARD] - Someone has to be there to dive in and save the less skilled swimmers! And it looks like your skills are quite urgently needed.

[S'MORES] - A classic treat, easily made in the bonfires that crop up as the sun begins to set, and perfect for sharing.

[creativeeventideas]

Boosting Team Cohesion with Fun Corporate Picnic Games & Ideas!

For the last three decades, I have been producing the most socially-dynamic, interactive corporate picnics on the planet, and the one thing that always comes standard in my book is field day games for team-building fun!

There's not a single corporate picnic quote that goes out without this ONE entertainment line item because it's the staple that puts the whole event together; creating strong team bonds and connections effortlessly.

So what makes field day games THE best game ideas for corporate picnics?

Field day games compel a group of employees to cohesively work together for a common goal and of course, friendly bragging rights among peers.

Fun-Filled Corporate Picnic Games: Our Top Picks!

When we do a corporate picnic we bring enough field games for us to run the games for about 2.5 - 3 hours, this is a good amount of time for these activities without it getting repetitive or boring at your event.

This series of entertaining corporate picnic competitions improve teamwork, problem-solving, communication, and other skills by developing an atmosphere where employees can interact freely with each other.

3-Legged Race

This is one I think we all know and remember for those school field days. Participants run together with the left leg of one person strapped or tied to the right leg of another person.

Balloon Toss

Split the participants into two teams and form two straight lines with the teammates facing each other. Teams will need to be an even amount of players for this activity to work. A player on one side must toss their balloon to their teammate on the other side without breaking it. If the balloon breaks the two players must step out of the game and leave the remaining people. This is repeated until there is only a pair of participants left.

Frisbee Golf

Frisbee golf, also known as disc golf, is a recreational sport that combines elements of traditional golf with the concept of throwing a flying disc (frisbee) into a series of targets, typically metal baskets with hanging chains, in as few throws as possible. For your corporate picnic field games, you really only need two of these targets depending on the number of teams you have. The players on each team take turns throwing their discs toward the target. If they miss, they're out. The team with the most players to hit the target at the end of the set wins the competition.

Hula Hoop Contest

A hula hoop contest is a fun and entertaining game where employees compete to see who can hula hoop the longest without dropping their hoop. You can either decide on a time frame, 1 or 2 minutes or play to the death, to see who can go the longest without a time frame. The participants that lose control and drop their hoops must step out of the game leaving only the ones who are still going. The last remaining hooper wins. If it's a timed game, you can keep repeating until the last hooper is standing.

Horseshoe Toss

Horseshoe toss, also known as horseshoe pitching, is a field game that involves players taking turns trying to throw horseshoes around a stake in the ground. Points are scored based on the closeness of the horseshoe to the stake. The team player with the horseshoe closest to the stake (or with ringers) scores points for that round. The first team to reach the predetermined point goal (e.g., 21) is declared the winner.

Football Toss

Football toss is a field day game where participants throw a football at a target to score points. Participants will aim to throw the football through a target, like a hole in a board, to score points. The team that scores the most points wins the challenge.

Potato Sack Races

In this game, participants hop inside large, durable sacks (often resembling potato sacks) and compete by racing against each other to reach a designated finish line. Participants must remain inside their sacks at all times during the race. For team building, the race will be done in multiple rounds, with winners from each round advancing to a final round or championship race.

Ring Toss

Ring toss is a classic picnic game where players attempt to toss rings onto a target in an effort to encircle an object with the rings. Ring toss is a game of skill and accuracy and will require your employees and their staff to work together on their technique, spacial distance, and aim.

Relay Races

Picnic relay races are a fun and engaging way to add some excitement and physical activity to your picnic or outdoor gathering. They involve teams or individuals competing against each other in a series of relay-style challenges. These races can be adapted with different elements to make it more fun and exciting.

Sharp Shooter

Split the participants into two teams and form two straight lines with the teammates facing each other. One side will be given water guns and the other side a target of some sort to stop the water. The side with the target will also be given a bucket beneath them in order to redirect the water being shot at them into the bucket to fill it first. The players to fill their bucket to the line wins the challenge.

Magic Carpet Ride

A magic carpet ride refers to the fantastical experience of gliding on a potato sack or tarp across the field on a magical carpet. Participants line up at the starting line with their partners on the magic carpet. When the whistle blows, the race begins and the participants must do their best to give their teammates a magic carpet ride to the other side of the field without them falling off. If your teammate falls off, you're out. The game is repeated til there is only one set of team players remaining.

Tug-O-War

Tug of war is a test of physical strength and requires teamwork, strategy, and coordination among team members. Divide the players into two teams if you haven't already. Each team holds a specific end of the rope. The players usually stand side by side, with their feet braced and their bodies leaning back, using their combined strength to pull the rope. The team that successfully pulls the other team across the center line wins. Tug of War can be played in multiple rounds or as part of a larger team-building competition.

Get Your Game On: Leading the Fun at the Corporate Picnic

The most important thing you can do for your corporate picnic games is get the right game leader! A game leader that can engage and entertain a crowd is pure gold to your event entertainment because they increase participation and create a positive, memorable experience out of what would have just normally been outdoor field day games.

Anyone can grab a list of games and supplies off the internet and bring them to a corporate picnic and hope to have a fun-filled day of team bonding. It's really not that simple. You need an icebreaker. You need a comedic, spontaneous person to bring the games to life in order to develop the right atmosphere for the employees and their guests to feel comfortable joining in and letting go of their reservations.

The games at a corporate picnic should be exciting and fun for the participants and the spectators.

Rock Your Corporate Picnic with Audio & Stage Support!

Audio Support

The game leader is going to need to be loud in order to grab the attention of not just the participants but also the spectators (because you want to engage the entire crowd at the picnic, not just those playing the games).

There's the option to use a wireless mic and speaker set up OR for super small picnics, you could use a megaphone like a coach on the sidelines.

Presentation Stage

A small, mini-stage rental can add so much value to your corporate games because it allows you to have a place where the game leader can be above the crowd to give game instructions and do other announcements, and be seen in clear view.

Corporate Picnic Game Prizes: Rewarding Fun and Teamwork

One MEGA HUGE incentive to get a crowd to participate in the corporate picnic games is when you see there are prizes to be had.

Whenever I do a corporate picnic game package, I always include small prizes and a prize redemption table in clear view of the crowd. These small prizes (or big if you choose) will be of major value to the people at the picnic.

[writesomethingdown]

Some translation practice I have been doing - Positive Quotes and Actions

Russell once said: The way leads to one’s happiness is to broaden the areas you are enthusiastic about as much as possible; Instead being opposing to them, hold a positive, kind response towards those that arouse your interest.

"The way to happiness is to broaden the areas you are enthusiastic about as much as possible.”

The happiness of your life is not that untouchable.

Stop walking ahead and reflect on yourself, you will find the true happiness is just beside us.

Today, I have listed down 80 ways to make yourself happy. These might seems quite small in ordinary days but contain infinite energy that would brought us extreme happiness. great joy

Learn how to express your needs and let every effort you make count.

Give yourself a small reward to acknowledge every achievement you make at each stage.

Give yourself enough time to listen to a song, absorb fully of the enjoyment music brings. fully absorb the enjoyment music brings

Read a book to awaken your brain, drops become river and sand build up tower, Drops become a river, and grains of sand build up a tower.you would see big changes one day while looking back.

Learn how to compliment others, give more affirmation in interactions so you can get along with each other

Try growing a pot of green plant, while improve your living environment, enjoy the fun of taking care of something.

Build a habit of drinking a cup of water after getting up, to shift yourself into a better mood and calming embrace a brand new day.

Build a habit of taking a rest during noon, put heavy work and tasks aside and enjoy the short relaxing break.

Participate in a group event, like flying disc, dancing, and entertain yourself through the process of team collaboration.

Keep a certain amount of exercise, a healthy body keeps a healthy mind.

Organise your room at a regular basis, clean living environment would enlighten you up.

Reward yourself with milk tea or a piece of cake occasionally, nothing makes one happier than take a bite of sweet food.

watch a decent movie, immersing yourself in the story would make you forget all your problems.

Set yourself a little goal everyday and try to complete it, keep on pushing yourself forward

choose wisely about the things you want to throw away, getting rid of items that are out of date and no longer needed is throwing away what is troubling you as well.

GPT Translation: Russell said: "The path to happiness lies in broadening your interests as much as possible and responding kindly to the people and things that catch your interest, rather than reacting with hostility." Happiness in life is not out of reach. Pause and reflect, and you'll find that true happiness is right around us. Today, I've compiled 80 ways to make yourself happy. These small actions may seem insignificant in our daily lives, but they contain boundless energy and can bring us great joy.

Learn to express your needs so that every effort you make is rewarded.

Give yourself a small reward to acknowledge every achievement you make at each stage.

Take the time to enjoy a song and immerse yourself in the joy that music brings.

Read a good book to awaken your mind. Small efforts accumulate, and one day you'll see a significant change.

Learn to give compliments. Adding more praise and recognition in your interactions with others can make relationships more harmonious.

Try growing a potted plant. Improve your living environment and enjoy the pleasure of nurturing it.

Develop the habit of drinking a glass of water after getting up to adjust your state and face the new day more calmly.

Cultivate the habit of taking a nap, putting aside busy work and tasks to enjoy a brief moment of relaxation.

Join a team activity, such as frisbee or dancing, and find joy in teamwork and collaboration.

Keep up with moderate exercise every day; a healthy body leads to a happy mind.

Regularly tidy up your room. A clean living environment brings a pleasant mood.

Occasionally treat yourself to a cup of milk tea or a piece of cake. After all, nothing brings more joy than a bite of something sweet.

Watch a good movie and fully immerse yourself in the story to forget all worries.

Set a small goal for yourself each day and strive to achieve it, pushing yourself forward.

Choose to declutter appropriately. Letting go of expired or unnecessary items is also letting go of troubles original Text:

罗素说：

“所谓的快乐之道，是尽可能地使自己的兴趣宽广，并对引起自己兴趣的人和事，不做敌对的反应，而做友善的反应。”

生活中的快乐，并不是触不可及。

停下脚步驻足思考，你就会发现真正的快乐其实就在我们身边。

今天，我为大家整理了让自己快乐的80种方式。

这些小事在平常日子里虽显得微不足道，但其蕴藏着无穷的能量，能够给我们带来极大的快乐。

学会表达自我需要，让自己的每一次付出都能够有所收获。

给自己一个小奖励，肯定自己在每一个小阶段中取得的成就。

留给自己一首歌的时间，静静享受音乐带来的沉浸式快乐。

读一本好书唤醒自己的大脑，积水成河积沙成塔，每天积累一点总有一天会迎来大的改变。

学会夸夸，在和他人的交往中多一些夸赞和认可，让彼此之间更加和谐。

尝试养一盆绿植，改善生活环境的同时，也能享受用心照顾的乐趣。

养成起床后喝一杯水的习惯，借此调整自己的状态，更加从容的面对崭新的一天。

培养午休的好习惯，放下繁忙的工作和任务，享受短暂的放松时间。

参加一次团队活动，例如飞盘、跳舞等项目，在团队沟通协作的过程中寻找乐趣。

10. 每天坚持适度的运动，有健康的身体才有快乐的心情。

定期整理房间，整洁的生活环境会给你一个愉快的心情。

偶尔奖励自己一杯奶茶或者一块蛋糕，毕竟没有什么比吃一口甜食更让人快乐的了。

看一部优秀的电影，全身心的投入剧情会让人忘却所有��恼。

14. 每天给自己设立一个小目标，并努力去完成，推动自己不断向前。

适当地选择断舍离，丢掉生活中过期以及不再需要的物品，其实也是在丢掉烦恼。

[diaoedia]

[ANIMAL WELL - 1]

My experience so far with this game is fantastic. The art is so DAMN good. I loved pixel art, and this pixel art feels so alive. The environment, the particles, the vines, the animals. Loving it all.

Start the game with no knowledge about anything, come straight from the flower. I am a cute brown ball. Expert of unconventional tool. I found the egg room with the peacock, i guess we will collect eggs and when finished the peacock will do something. Then I just go around nothing special, solved some simple puzzle. Then I took the disc. That was scary the cat? Or something else idk. It chased me, I ran around hopelessly and died. Welp later I come across the fake disc and swap with the disc. It just the first moment for me but see how things connect is really satisfying.

So what i gather so far is that we a deep somewhere with many types of animal, a "well"? The feeling that everything here gives is strange and mystical, but really inviting us to the world that is full of secret,

I have been wonder around clueless for like an hours because of the switch block, like it a screen separate to four by switch block. So i go around solving the puzzle and then stuck. I tried to go backward but the difficulty spike up if you try to do that. Still plausible but nearly impossible. There are many ghost mouse that float around and bounce to stuff. There are some cute birds that led you ride to. Thank to my frustration, I found out you can jump and ride the frisbee. It was the first AHA moment for me in this game. But yea the reason that I was stuck because there is a secret button hidden. That part is dark and bunch of the segments is unlit. I might need to find something to light those candles.

After that everything went smoothly. I just go around and got 7 eggs. That was impressive for me feeling focus for hours, I was in the zone. All the puzzle wasn't too hard. But the game feels big. Lots of locked door, unreachable places. Showing glances at the bigger picture.

I went down to the dark zone with air that contains many faces, dark and scary stuff. Go up to the hedgehog and chinchilla. The chinchillas run toward me. That was scary but the frisbee managed to push it. But later at a boss fight it touched me and did not hurt. So yea chinchilla cannot hurt you. But can act as an platform. I also fought against an chameleon, seahorse. And I found the ostrich but it was too intimidating so I did not try to solve that room. And the crows was loud and will kill you if you press the red button.

Overall for this session, a lot of things is in this game. Hidden places, locked door and puzzles everywhere. An intricate map of secret, that is also slowly revealing itself. And figuring it all by yourself is sooooo pleasurable. Not to mention the creativeness of the tools. Frisbee? Slinky? Bubble? The potential is unlimited. Riding the frisbee was the first enlightment for me, what else. Oh and you can basically infinite jump with bubble wand too. I was proud when I got the timing right.

Really looking forward to extraordinary thing that waiting for me to figured out.

[gemini-with-cancer]

The beginning

When I was little we would sit on the hood of the old Datsun and listen to cassette tapes. You would take me on hikes down the old railroad tracks, exploring our little world around the trailer park. You taught me how to play frisbee, how to catch the large disc between my hands in a sandwich motion. I wanted to spend all my time with you, I thought you were the coolest person that ever existed.

Then I got older, you drank more, and I liked you less. I tried to play computer games with you and like the things you liked, but it wasn't enough. You told me to go to hell one night because I knocked over your beer can. I stopped going in the basement to hang out with you.

I started having panic attacks and you said it was my fault. You told me I was doing it to torture Mom. I was 12. I was scared, and it wasn't my fault, but at the time you made me feel like it really was.

You drank more, you watched porn, you put photo's up of my teenage friends in bikini's on your bulletin board.

Your alternative students with learning disabilities loved you. You helped them learn. You screamed at me at the dinner table because I struggled with math.

It took a long time for me to figure out who I was and that I didn't need your approval.

Got my autism diagnosis at 30, I'm 33 now and I love myself more than I ever have.

Then April 20th happened.

[her-koss-portapros]

09 - 24 - 2023

Today’s been an okay day. It’s been peaceful in my quiet mind. I woke up late and talked to Spencer for a moment. He was telling me about the bus schedule from El Ejido to Almeria Beach, and I was listening as I made my coffee in the Mr. Coffee pot, the way that I like it. Five scoops of Veranda roast to five cups of water. Eventually he hung up with the excuse that he needed to eat before catching the bus, but I was wondering if his deeper reasoning was that talking to me made him sad and uncomfortable. I could tell that he was close to crying as we said goodbye without ending on “I love you.” I sat with this in mind as I ate a cinnamon blondie for breakfast alongside my hot coffee.

I decided that I would clean around the apartment and my reward for cleaning would be a trip to Goodwill. Thrifting always seems to prove fruitful. Seeing random, outdated pieces of clothing and objects that I would never purchase. Finding something that isn’t perfect but is good enough. And of course, it’s in my budget. Goodwill has a distinct smell to it, as well. The best one that we have in Atlanta is located in Buckhead - around a 15 minute drive from where I reside on 386 Parkway Dr. It’s in the depressing part of Buckhead, as I see it. Though really, all of Buckhead is quite depressing to me.

I didn’t end up thrifting though. I did clean; I threw in a load of laundry, I unloaded dishes and vacuumed the 550 square feet that I walk on everyday. While doing this I listened to my favorite podcast. Every episode is informative and usually about something happening presently in society, but is explained through a historical lens. The two ladies always start their episodes by chatting about normal things happening, gossip, the rest. And today I really only wanted to listen to the chit-chat and gossip. I didn’t have enough space in my brain for learning.

After cleaning I told myself I’d lay out in Piedmont park for a bit before going thrifting, knowing that I was leaving the house without eating anything except for that blondie at breakfast. I took with me the Goodwill bags that had been sitting in front of my A/C vent for over two months now - filled to their brims with clothes I’ve intended to donate. I drove the long way into Midtown so that I could turn right onto 10th to find a place to park. There was plenty of parking at noon-thirty on a Sunday. I parked and walked to the spot where him and I threw the frisbee a few weeks ago. On the first of September, actually. But there was no disc to throw and there was no Spencer to laugh and lay with. Instead, I laid on my beach towel by myself, and I admired the juxtaposition of the warmth I felt on my skin in direct sunlight against the cool shade under the tree I chose to lay under. These past few days without him have just barely felt real.

I was ravenously hungry by the time I got up to leave, and realized that thrifting was going to have to happen another day. I went home and ate eggs, then a full carton of raspberries, and finally three scoops of coffee-chip ice cream. And then I slept.

The way that light hits certain furniture pieces on a sunny Sunday afternoon in my studio apartment makes me full with gratitude. I slept for two hours - from 4pm to 6 and had bizarre dreams that I can’t recall. I got up and then showered, then threw a frozen pizza in the over. A fourth of the pizza I would eat tonight, the rest for lunch at work tomorrow. And then I watched Netflix’s documentary on Joan Didion; the first Netflix media I’ve seen in a long time that doesn’t make me cringe. I love Joan Didion, and I love her mind, her writings, the way that she studies humans and the world around her. So now I’m writing this. It is 9:51 on the 24th of September. It’s a Sunday. I’m equal parts sad and grateful for what I have right now. I know that nobody will ever read what I write, but what’s important is that I write anyways. For myself, I guess.

[grison-in-space]

We have three Hyperflite Jawz discs arriving on Thursday and I'm hyped. One of em glows in the dark, which is exciting since the heat has made me more likely to throw in the dark. I suspect I'm going to need to learn to throw with gloves or mittens on in the winter. Thank you to

I realized tonight how to get her to create distance so I can throw longer without my asshole little goalie trying to leap farther: just shape her moving backwards until she's farther out and make her wait.

She's so bad... but only about things we have mutually agreed have zero stakes. Like "will I, Matilda, receive frisbee this second?" I'm a people. What do I care how quickly I throw the Frisbee, really? Having communicated that barking at me loudly enough to be physically painful was not an available option, the game becomes a tug of war over the boundaries of "close enough to throw": both of us metaphorically yell "throw it!" / "closer!" cues at each other, complete with performative transfers of attention that occasionally lapse into actually focusing on something else but usually return to the game. Sometimes she stands parallel to me but a few feet over and visibly stares into space trying to collect herself before she brings anything to me to throw.

I think she is so focused on avoiding the grief of take while actually getting the Frisbee to me (and thereby receiving go) that she wants me to actually have to get up to get the disc and throw it, or at least to give herself plausible deniability that I will actually take the Frisbee at any given instant until it's too late for her to grab it back. She's extremely focused on bringing it just out of range and often experimentally nudges them in increments of about an inch.

Meanwhile, look, I enjoy an evening out in the garden throwing disc for a dog and listening to a podcast about hilaribad Nazi designs for planes that apparently existed solely to kill their pilots as much as the next person. But hell if I'm getting out of my chair to get the Frisbee. No. Bring the damn Frisbee INTO my range of motion, please.

(especially! because! after apparently murdering two of our plastic Adirondack chairs I remembered that last year for my birthday @coffee-mage-sans-caffeine got me a folding hammock chair! and I can just sit in it! and rock! and still sit up enough to throw Frisbee! anyway after remembering that and hanging out in it while the cool winds blow before the welcome storm all evening, I am enjoying my chair.)

Sometimes when we are arguing over how close Matilda has to drop a Frisbee to me, she "swears" at me: she makes a disgusted face and then a silent barking motion before she moves the Frisbee an inch closer or takes a step back or tries to get me to stop ignoring the little stack of discs accumulating at my feet.

I often then take the time to reflect on how well cattle dogs fit me: as much as Matilda enjoys causing problems on purpose around the rules of the game, aggravating me.... I enjoy causing my own problems for cattle dog by thwarting her. It's only fun if she knows full well what we're arguing over, if she's confused it's no good, but otherwise you could accurately describe our evening frisbee sessions as an extended argument.

I kind of love it. She's pushing me to pay attention in all the ways I hoped she might.

[silver-ink-iron-words]

Nope still broken. Must be a phone problem.

That said if you could please continue shifter? It's so good!

Ah man, sorry about that. Hopefully the links in this post work

Also, thanks for the request :)

----

CW - discussion of suicide

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Major Shift, Part 4

The tangerine and crimson leaves fluttered into the gentle creek, as Dara stared at the switchblade in their hands.

It had been easy to accept their death when it was an abstract concept. The inevitable outcome of being turned. When it was something that would happen to them, rather than something they’d have to take care of themself.

They weren’t even surprised when the smoke began to pool and slither around their knees.

“Please, kid,” the Shifter King said, settling down beside them in his human form. “Don’t do that.”

“How’d you find me?”

“This is my forest. I always know what’s happening in it.”

Dara kept their eyes on the knife. Ending things here would mean that they wouldn’t be fulfilling the High Huntsman’s wishes. It would be abandoning everything they’d sworn to protect.

But to live out their days as a shifter, to slowly lose themself piece by piece until there was nothing left but the beast . . .

Maybe if they were quick enough, they could do it before the villain had a chance to stop them.

“I think I’ll hold on to that,” he said, taking the knife from their grip. Dara noticed, passively, how careful he was to not touch the silver metal blade.

They turned their gaze up to the fiery trees. It was beautiful as a painting. “Do you think this is kindness?”

“I do.”

Dara sighed. They probably wouldn’t have had the guts to go through with it anyways.

They held up their wrists to be tied.

The villain looked between Dara’s hands and their face. It seemed to take him a moment to realize what they were doing.

“Come on.” He slapped a hand on their shoulder, rising up. “I want to show you something.”

----

Dara wasn’t surprised that the shifters’ base was a sprawling Victorian mansion in the middle of the woods.

What they hadn’t expected was the chipper yellow paint, the elegant wrap-around porch, and the game of frisbee happening on the front lawn.

“David,” a shifter said, after throwing the bright plastic disc. Most of their skin was covered in lichen. “Is that the murderer?”

Dara stiffened. But before they could even think of running, the villain wrapped an arm around their shoulder. 

“Everyone, meet Dara,” he said, addressing the small crowd of shifters. “Our newest recruit. I want you all to welcome them just like you’d welcome each other.”

“I’m not – ”

“Now let’s get inside,” he continued. “We need to have that planning meeting.”

Inside was, put simply, absolute chaos.

It’s not that things were messy. Quite the opposite – the floors were swept, the shelves dusted, the tabletops cleared of clutter.

It’s that the developers must have been high out of their minds when they designed the place.

The front door led first through somebody’s bedroom, and then through a kitchen with a washing machine where the stove should have been. The hallways changed colors and wallpapers as the group passed through them, the floors switching back and forth between tile and wood. They passed one room where every piece of furniture was cat-themed, one that was a steamy greenhouse, one that was nothing but wall-to-wall doors.

Dara suffered vertigo just trying to keep up.

“Where’s the meeting room today?” the villain asked, dodging under a string of vines hanging down from the ceiling.

“Upstairs, ’round where the ballroom used to be,” said a shifter with enormous ox horns.

They approached a staircase, and Dara could see a girl between the slats. She was carving a jack-o-lantern, the knife digging firmly into one of the pumpkin’s yellowy eyes.

They went swerving up the stairs, which were arranged in some confusing crisscross that reminded Dara of a double helix. 

“What’s with this place?” they hissed.

“Welcome to Witchwood Manor,” the villain said. “The place is cursed. Or blessed? It’s hard to tell sometimes. But I wouldn’t recommend leaving your stuff lying around.”

They finally reached a meeting room with tall windows and a long wooden table. The shifters piled around it, with the villain standing at the head. Dara ended up just beside him.

“Well, good news everyone,” he began. “We’ve uncovered a photo of the book.”

“And here I was hoping that you’d actually found the damn thing,” a shifter said.

“So impatient,” the villain replied with a grin. He pressed a button on a remote, and a projector screen began to lower. “Now that we've found this, the most recent known location is Munich, 1998.”

“So we have to go to Germany?”

The ox shifter rolled her eyes. “There’s no reason to think it’s still there, Benjamin.”

The projector clicked on, and a grainy photo appeared. It was in a stone courtyard, featuring a smiling woman holding an ancient book. It was thick, and the pages were uneven. The image of a gnarled, leafless tree was carved into the withered black leather.

But as strange as the book was, a different detail stood out. The woman had a small tattoo on her forearm – an arrow intercepted with three curved lines. The exact same symbol could be found on Dara’s shoulder blade.

The Hunter’s Sigil.

The shifters continued to discuss the book, reviewing their findings and brainstorming where it could be located. To Dara’s astonishment, none of them mentioned the mark.

“Why do you want it so badly?” they asked after a while.

Every eye in the room fell upon them.

“Ah yes,” the villain said. “Thank you for speaking up, Dara. I nearly forgot to explain.” He gestured to the image. “This spell book was written by Joan Morton. The most renowned witch of her time, and the creator of this very manor.”

Dara blinked. “Witches aren’t real.”

The lichen shifter glanced to them. “You’ve never heard that the first shifters were created by witches?”

“I’ve heard that myth, yes.”

“Well, regardless,” the villain said. “We know the book is real. And we know that it contains a variety of very useful spells. Ones that could keep this pack safe against our rivals.”

Dara looked again to the photo. “I hope you don’t think I’m going to help you find it.”

The villain’s eyes lit up in a way that Dara didn’t like. “You may be interested to know, there’s a rumour that one of the spells contained in this book can turn shifters back into humans.”

Dara straightened in their seat. The room buzzed with whispered conversation.

The villain smiled. He knew he had them.

“What the hell is that homicidal freak doing here?”

Everyone looked to the doorway. There stood Corbin, bitter gaze fixed on Dara.

“Ah, Corbin, perfect timing,” the villain said. “I was just about to tell Dara how I’ll be matching them with a partner, to help ease their transition into the pack.”

Dara and Corbin locked eyes with each other. “You can’t mean . . .”

“Oh, but I do.” The villain’s smile was mischievous. “I just know you two will be the absolute best of friends.”

[cno-inbminor]

iterum vivere (childe/tartaglia)

a/n: wow, it’s been fucking forever. first genshin fic featuring childe/tartaglia!!! a very huge thank you to @suspensin​ for reading this over and being my rock and support, and i love her so fucking much. I couldn’t have finished this without her!

plot: reincarnation and modern/uni!au ft. afab reader!traveler with she/they pronouns x childe/tartaglia 

-- in which meeting childe is a bit of a dangerous game of push and pull

wc: 12.1k; angst + fluff

warnings:  DOES CONTAIN IN-GAME SPOILERS (1.5? 1.6? + story quest and idek) and NSFW MENTIONS (mdni to be safe). there’s no explicit smut but thoughts do run a bit wild here and there

EDIT: Altered ChiLumi version now posted on AO3 here!

“Haven’t we met before?”

The shine in your eyes does nothing to hide your curiosity, head even tilting a little in observation. He watches them scan his face for any recognizable features, but attempts to focus on the strange, taut string of déjà vu that pulls him toward you. In a moment of absentmindedness, he had heard a faint voice call out his name from your direction. Confusion overtook him as you weren’t looking at him, but something inside his brain said that it had to be from you. And so his feet redirected his path towards your figure in the student union building, as if on a mission.

“A fucking whale, Childe?”

Oh.

“I don’t think so…?” You trail off, curiosity now replaced by perplexed feelings. “Do we have a class together?”

I think I would’ve noticed you by now if you were.

“Ah, what’s your major?” Childe asks quickly to avoid listening to the little voice in his head.

“History and anthropology, you?”

“Economics, but I’ve taken a history course for core credits. Maybe it was then?”

“With Dr. Zhong?”

“Yes!” He snaps his fingers. Part of his brain decides to usefully function and scan his memories to see if he remembers your face or head of hair in the lecture hall then. “Last year? Tuesdays and Thursdays from 10 to 11:20?”

“Actually, yeah,” you affirm in surprise. You think you would remember the relatively attractive ginger in your class, but honestly, it had all been such a blur and you were often pretty sleepy during class. Dr. Zhong didn’t quite appreciate it, but you made up for it with your exam and essay grades, as well as paying better attention in some of his other courses.

“Did you need me for anything?”

“I’d like for you to come visit and meet my family.”

He’s really not appreciating this extra voice speaking for him.

“Well…uh…” Childe stammers and looks away sheepishly, hand rubbing the back of his neck. He honestly had no reason for approaching you, and now, he just looks like a desperate idiot. Think quick, he tells himself, floundering for some shitty excuse.

“I wanted to, uh, take another history course as an elective and um, wanted to know if you had any recommendations?”

“Oh,” you blink. That’s a first. When he meets your gaze, the swirling shades of sapphire strike something deep within you. Flashes of events you can’t make out go by in the blink of an eye, but then you realize you’ve been staring for too long. Blood rushes to your cheeks because you don’t exactly want this guy to get the wrong idea from you, because how are you supposed to explain, “I’m sorry, but I think we have met before, but just a really, really long time ago, and we might’ve been more than just acquaintances because that’s what it feels like?”

“I think you’d like Teyvat Mythology,” your voice wavers on the verge of cracking. “Dr. Zhong might have a TA this time around, but Xiao’s a great teacher. Doesn’t have long, rambling anecdotes, but explains things well and gets straight to the point.”

“C-cool, I’ll look into it,” Childe replies and smiles brightly. “I’ll head out then,” jabbing a thumb over his shoulder, where he just realized he left a grouchy Scaramouche waiting by a vending machine, newly purchased Starbucks Tripleshot drink in hand. “Nice seeing you, (y/n).”

He scurries off before you both realize that you never told him your name.

“Who’s that?” Scaramouche asks, jutting his chin in your vague direction.

“Someone from my Intro to Liyuean History course last year,” Childe waves off. “Come on, let’s go before the line at the pasta bar gets too long.”

-

The next time you see Childe is by accident, traversing across an open field of grass that many students like to sit out on to relax with friends, sunbathe, hold events, or play casual team sports if room permits.

You had your earbuds in and were scrolling through social media when laughter rang above all other sound, causing your head to snap up and swivel around to find the source. And while it might’ve been strange to an outsider, your steps immediately slowed as you watched the man of your tiring, vivid dreams sprint in your direction, eyes pinned on a frisbee heading towards him.

He’s wearing a grey sports tank and basketball shorts, headband holding back his bangs as he makes a slight jump in the air to catch the plastic disc between his palms. His feet plant into the grass as he looks for someone to pass it to, and you watch (with embarrassment) the muscles in his throwing arm relax and tighten with practice, frisbee steadily soaring through the air in a beautiful arc towards a teammate. He then lightly jogs to get closer to his group, but then his back stiffens.

Before your instincts kick in for you to turn and bail, he looks over his shoulder and stares straight at your now stunned self.

The sole ruby earring that glints in the sunlight catches your attention, and you recall your dreams of terrifyingly dark, violet electric power, blades of water rushing toward you, and then the stomach-churning sensation of falling from great heights pours concrete into your veins—

Childe looks a little amused for having your sole focus, hand lifting up for a quick wave. And as you numbly return the greeting, your heart beats out, “Run from him.”

And so with the flight response pulsing and firing from your synapses, you abruptly speed walk away, almost breaking out into a sprint towards your dorm. You ignore his pointed, confused look, and pretend you don’t feel the two holes of imaginary fire searing into your back. It isn’t until you’re laying back in bed that you release a huge sigh of relief and pray to a deity you don’t believe in that those eyes of mirth will not haunt you tonight.

But of course, with a deity that doesn’t exist, the prayers go unanswered.

-

“Do you believe in any of the mythology you teach?” You ask Xiao about a few days later when you stop by his cubicle. Luckily, no one else is around for this conversation, and Xiao has always been kind enough to humor your thoughts. Granted, he might feel obligated because you had asked Dr. Zhong to be your advisor for your undergraduate Honors thesis, and Xiao was directed to be your receiver of some general questions and source of information if he wasn’t around.

A quick scan of your complexion tells Xiao everything he needs to know. Your eyes are overtaken with rumination and exhaustion, haziness clouding them as you seem to ponder over your own question. It’s not often that you ask him anything not related to your thesis or coursework.

“Perhaps there’s some sense and truth to the tales passed down,” he softly muses. “What makes you ask?”

You lift yourself to sit on the clean area next to his computer, legs slowly swaying back and forth. “It might sound crazy but...I’ve been having dreams lately. They feel too real, too natural to be anything that my mind would make up. I’ve never had the most creative imagination by any means, which is why there’s some comfort to me being a history major, but I can’t shake these.”

“So why ask me about the mythology?”

“...the Archons are there. I even dreamt that I met the Geo and Anemo Archons. And they controlled various elements, just like we were taught.”

You don’t notice that Xiao has ceased his rapid typing, fingers hovering over the keyboard before one hand removes his glasses from his face. He uses the other to rub his eyes and softly pinch the bridge of his nose before sliding the frames back on. Dark, golden amber eyes survey you as you grapple with the unfathomable possibilities of your nightly visions, at least until you shake your head in disbelief at yourself and lightly scoff.

“Who am I kidding?” You ask no one in particular. “Maybe I’ve been doing too much research and everything’s mixing together.”

“You’re ahead of schedule, if that provides any consolation.”

“Some.”

-

It takes Childe a grand total of one minutes and 53 seconds to sign up for Teyvat Mythology for the spring semester.

-

WInter in Liyue is only slightly miserable, being so close to the ocean. It’s chillier than usual on this dreary day, yet something compelled you to exit your dorm and shakily make your way to the campus coffee shop for a warm drink. Coffee, hot chocolate, you haven’t quite decided yet, but just as you let yourself bask in the warm building, familiar ginger hair and blue eyes wash away the comfort.

Or do they douse you in security?

They remind you of your recent dreams that now have shifted away from stress and violence to easygoing summer days by the oceanside, running barefoot in the sand while collecting beautifully patterned azure starconches. Sometimes, you thrust a hand towards an oversized four-leaf clover on a wooden stake with the power of wind and catch yourself in the air, soaring and looking around to find more of the little shells. Other nights, they consist of climbing steep cliffs, only to sit at the edge in the clouds with fatigue wracking through your system and marvel at the view before you.

Someone’s always with you though, ruby earring and maroon mask and cobalt blue gem hanging from the waist, sprinting with you, playfully tackling you down, pulling you up towards mountain peaks, laying their head on your shoulders, brushing their lips against your cheek--

You welcome the change of peace in those dreams, but only because they don’t leave you quite as tired the next day, as if you’d been avoiding an inescapable dark force.

Part of you wants the burning question of why this person, this man, in all his glory and brightness, affects you so fucking much when you barely even know the guy -- why looking at him sends your heart to lodge itself in your esophagus, why your lungs feel like they’re so close to being completely collapsed under the weight of his stare, why feeling like you’re trapped and  caught between wanting to run towards yet away from him.  It makes no sense, and you’re tired of trying to make sense of anything you don’t exactly want to remember from your dreams for some, once again, inexplicable reason.

But there’s no time to think as he quickly ambles towards you, your own feet shuffling forward to meet him in a warped reference of a distance that constitutes to “the middle” before you can stop yourself. Your shivering hasn’t quite stopped yet, and Childe seems to take notice of it.

“Pretty cold out there,”  he softly states. It’s cute, the way you’re curling in on yourself to retain some warmth.

“Y-yeah, not sure why I decided I really needed something warm to drink right now,” you reply and avoid his gaze. He watches you peer over his shoulder to squint at the menu display hanging from the ceiling, seemingly contemplating on what you should get.

“How about I get yours today? My treat for your class recommendation last time.” Anything to keep you here longer. Childe doesn’t realize how much he’s missed you, which confuses him, and chooses to ignore the fact that he’d been camping himself at the study tables in the building where the history department is located in hopes of even just catching a quick glimpse of you.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you immediately attempt to subvert his generous offer, hands shooting out from your jacket pockets and waving in rejection. “It was nothing.”

“Please?” Childe puts on his best puppy eyes before reaching for one of your wrists, gently tugging you to the register. “Just this once?”

You want so badly to squash the tiny flare of disappointment that erupts in your chest from the newly acquired knowledge that this was just a one time thing. Do econ majors hate to feel in debt? That they must be even with everyone, or would rather have people indebted to them than the other way around?

There’s no time to think when Childe gives the cashier his order before turning to you, and without wanting to waste anyone’s time, you rattle off your usual beverage. He’s quick in fishing out his student ID to spend some of his campus currency, shooting you a boyish grin when you pout at your half-opened wallet.

“Go take that table over there,” he says, pointing to one in the corner by some windows. “I’m gonna tell my friends to go on without me.”

“I didn’t mean to intrude or pull you away from them,” you slightly panic. The sooner you can leave, the better. Right? “You don’t need to sit with me, I was just gonna head back to my dorm.”

“I insist. Go ahead, I’ll be right there.”

Why your brain takes his orders over your own is a mystery in and of itself, because before you know it, you’re plopped down in one of the lounge seats and staring off into space, mind reeling over the last two minutes. You pretend you can’t hear the way Childe’s friends nudge his arm playfully with their shoulders, wiggling their eyebrows suggestively as Childe tries to get them to stop being nonsensical.

“You’re gonna scare them off,” he hisses at them, hands pushing at their backs so they could finally leave him to his devices.

“Not before you do!” One of them laughs and Childe groans at their antics. “All right, all right, we’ll go. They’re cute though, might steal them if you don’t make a move.”

The darkening of the aura surrounding Childe is too quick for them to fully process, not before he dampens any of their fleeting hopes with a, “Don’t even fucking think about it.”

But it disappears just as fast when his and your drinks are called out, and he gives them one last shove before retrieving your to-go cups. Childe directs all his focus towards the seat diagonally from yours as opposed to the one that’s straight across, and you’re sharply ripped away from whatever reverie you let yourself slip into.

“Thank you,” you murmur, hands cupping the drink and feeling the heat seep into your fingertips. “You really didn’t have to, it was nothing big.”

“Can you blame me for just trying to find an excuse to finally talk to you?” He asks without a skip and you can’t tell if the quickening of your heartbeat is from a looming sense of doom or excitement. Those eyes, the tiny swirls of the ocean, blue like those shells buried in the sand--

It takes three seconds too long for you to understand where he was going with in his words, and part of you feels unamused at his smooth talking. You’ve always guarded yourself against guys like Childe, devilishly handsome who know their way around language semantics, ready to pull you in and just as ready to push you away. That (possibly unfair) bias, coupled with everything else you’ve been feeling for him, sounded the alarms and set the walls up around your heart. Perhaps you need to stop wearing your heart on your sleeve, because Childe immediately retracts his forwardness.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I promise I’m not looking for anything in return and you don’t owe me anything, but I really did just...want to sit and talk and...get to know you?” Childe trails off a little towards the end. Your body loosens up and relaxes just a tiny bit, feeling bad for your snap judgment. Let the guy do something nice, don’t look into it too much, you tell yourself. It’s a coffee, not a five-course dinner.

You reach out a hand towards him, small smile across your lips, ready for his to join yours in a quick handshake. “I’m (y/n), senior history and anthropology double major. It’s nice to meet you.”

The pounding of your heart against your ribcage has nothing to do with the shimmering of his eyes, nothing to do with the fact that his hand fits with yours just right, and nothing to do with the fact that an eerily similar voice from your dreams whispers, “I love you.”

You learn a number of things about Tartaglia in the four hours, like his family members and their respective interests, which classes he did and didn’t enjoy taking, certain takes on Schnezhnayan politics, his own various hobbies, crazy accidents from the occasional college parties, and more. He’s a bit of an open book, probably telling you way more than any regular person would, and definitely more than anything you revealed during all this time. Everything you tell him seems surface level, nothing too deep. The walls are still there to protect you from the unexplainable, profound feelings his presence seems to elicit, and luckily, he doesn’t prod any further. Childe feels the resistance and respects it, which just adds more brownie points in your book, and you almost feel bad for having given so little in return.

“I wish we were taking Teyvat Myth together,” he sighs when walking you back to your dorm, hands stuffed in his pockets. His ruby earring catches the light from the sunset, the shade almost complimentary to the golden amber rays that streak across the sky. “Would’ve helped having a history major in there.”

“Is that all I am to you, an answer bank?” You jokingly ask, but he watches concerningly as you shoot your gaze to the ground, mindfully stepping over the cracks between concrete slabs.

“Of course not,” a gentle sincerity reaches you, giving you the confidence to make eye contact with him. “I’m sorry for making it sound like that, it wasn’t my intention. I really just meant it as a way of saying if the professor or TA ended up being a total bore, then well, having you would make it more fun.”

“I’m sure I’d bore you even more,” chuckling, speeding up to get away. You’re growing too comfortable in whatever atmosphere Childe has created, like an enclosed air bubble bobbing gently in the depths of the sea and letting the waves carry you both to whichever ends of the earth.

“Hey,” he interjects, hand reaching out to stop you with a soft yank of your wrist. There is no resisting force from you, feet stepping backward until he meets you eye to eye. It’s unfair in the way that he can render you motionless by standing just an inch from you, arms brushing with his head tilted closer to your own. “Seriously, I’m glad we did this today. Are you?”

No, because now I don’t know what to think, I don’t know who you are, I’m not any closer to figuring out why you terrify yet leave me so enamoured with you, I’m torn between punching and kissing you and--

“Yes,” you subconsciously answer, brain immediately short-circuiting to scold yourself. “I had fun.”

His grin, charming, devilish, is so so bright, bright enough to rival the Liyue sun that sits on the pier, on the edge of the ocean, bright enough to rival the love that your fraternal twin showers you with on a daily basis. You want time to stop right here because you’re almost sick of the voice settled deep within your heart that screams, “Don’t get comfortable, you must run from him!”

“Good. Let’s do this again?” And you nod, of course you do. Foolish you. “Don’t be a stranger!” He calls out as he turns on his heel and waves over his shoulder, hand raised in the air, and you’re suddenly transported to another scene, a less refined version of the Liyue Harbor, watching as the head of ginger hair with a red mask in a flashier attire of grey and maroon walks away from you and onto a roaring, magnificent ship; big, ivory sails only seen in books and museums. It’s the same gesture of “see you later”, and just before he turns, you blink, and you’re back to seeing your campus again.

But Childe does look back once, warm and content that you’re still standing there, watching over him, and he can’t help but think about when he can spend time with you again, because suddenly, it truly feels like there’s not enough of it anymore.

-

“Excuse me, what’s a Red Bull?”

The last thing, or person rather, you expect to see on the last day of finals for the fall semester, is a small boy who looks way too young to be here, tugging on the sleeve of your windbreaker. He’s at most eleven, ten maybe, but he has eerily similar characteristics, as well as an accent that doesn’t quite belong to most Liyue natives. Still gathering your bearings from your own perusing of the fridges that hold all the possible beverages a college student could consume, you kneel down until you’re at eye level with the child.

“Repeat that for me? Are you looking for a Red Bull, you say?”

“Yes!” He beams and holds out a student ID that most definitely doesn’t belong to him. “My brother asked me to grab him one because he was busy with something.”

Your eyes flit over to the top shelves where the aforementioned cans of caffeine are located, and definitely too high for someone of his height to reach. “I’ll grab one for you. Did he ask for a specific flavor?”

“Nope, he said regular. Thanks, you’re really nice! Do you know my brother?” He asks, waving the ID at you so you can get a better look at the name. That’s definitely a face you recognize, but the name leaves you confused.

“Yeah, um,” glance over again, “I know...Ajax…”

“He’s the best toy seller in the whole world!”

Somehow, it suits him much better than Childe or Tartaglia, and you’re not quite sure what toys have anything to do with the matter at hand. Speaking of hands, the little boy grabs yours in sheer delight. “Can you take me back to his room? I kinda forgot the directions he told me, and everything’s so big around here.”

“Sure, just let me buy something, too, and I’ll take you.”

“Okay!”

The cashier isn’t the least bit fazed by the little brunette at your side -- it’s always common for family members to come in around the end of semesters to pick up kids or visit, and being an open building with snacks and drinks and a stopping point of most tours, they’ve seen it all. You even let him pick out a bag of chips and a candy bar for himself for being so polite and not a complete menace, paying with your own campus currency.

Teucer, as you’ve learned in the last two minutes, likes to point out things and ask you questions. Luckily, you have answers to most of them and do your best to pad the time, enjoying the feeling of a tiny hand wrapped around three of your fingers. It’s sweet to any normal passerby, believing they’re witnessing an older sister doting on their little brother around the holidays, but to Childe, seeing the tender sweetness on your face as you nod along to whatever Teucer is rambling about to you, sets his heart aflame. He’s already constantly on the verge of wanting to hug and kiss you and never let go, but you haven’t made any indication that you could potentially like him back, and this is just torture.

“Look what they bought me!” Teucer shoves his rewards in Childe’s face as if he had extremely poor eyesight, and you can’t help but laugh a little as you set his Red Bull down on his desk, clutching your own preferred beverage while looking around his room. Finals must have gotten to him with the unusual lack of tidiness in the small space, some laundry strewn here and there, a couple boxes of eaten microwave dinners in the metal wire trash can, some textbooks left open and marked with more sticky notes than you’ve ever seen. You’d only been here once before to drop off some food that he desperately messaged you about, stuck doing a project that he just couldn’t step away from.

“Pretend you don’t see the mess,” Childe pleads, handing a kid tablet to his brother but holding on before Teucer can take it. “What do you say to our nice friend here for buying you these snacks?”

“Thank you!”

“It was nothing,” you shyly smile, ruffling his hair. “I enjoyed meeting you.”

“Wait, what’s your name again?”

“It’s (Y/n).”

“Okay, (y/n)! Wait…(y/n)..as in…”

Teucer trails off and gives a look to his brother, one that spells curiosity and trouble, before he grabs your hand and pulls you into a corner. Any movement Childe makes to leave his desk chair is immediately squashed by Teucer’s disapproval, and the older man is left to helplessly worry when you’re told to squat down so secrets can be whispered into your ear.

“He talks about you a lot whenever he calls home,” and you want to laugh at Tecuer’s attempt to sound as scandalous as possible. “All the time! I think he likes you, like, like like.”

Oh. Oh dear.

“What makes you say that?” You whisper back, indulging both yourself and him, yet also internally snickering at how troubled Childe looks.

“Sometimes, he video calls mama, but we’ll all sit around and talk, and whenever he’s talking about how he saw you or something, he just looks...happy. Really happy.”

The surprise on your face does nothing to settle Childe’s nerves and he’s about to start wringing his hands together. Whatever Teucer was telling you couldn’t be good, probably embarrassing, like the one time he unceremoniously fell on his ass while ice skating over a frozen lake, or when he tried fitting fifteen marshmallows in his mouth and nearly choked on them when their mother caught them in the act, or--

“I think he just thinks of me as a good friend,” you try to inform Teucer, not letting yourself get any semblance of hope. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

“If you say so,” Teucer pouts. But then he stops whispering and bounds over back to his brother, grabbing the tablet before plopping down on the half-made bed.

“Look, I was overconfident and thought I could execute a perfect single loop on the ice, but there was a rock and I lost balance and--”

“I wasn’t being told any stories about you falling on ice, but do tell me more,” you chuckle and take some joy in watching the blush spread across his cheeks. It’s easy to tell that he’s mentally berating himself for jumping to conclusions.

“Well, first off, thanks for buying him all that, and my drink, too,” he sighs. “I spoil him enough as it is.”

“I can see why it’s hard not to,” you smile knowingly. “So is it just him here? Where’s the rest of your family?”

“Funny story, he somehow managed to convince my parents to let him come here on his own as his first ever plane flight, so I had to pick him up yesterday from the airport. He’s flying back with me tomorrow.”

“And the RA?” You ask with an eyebrow raised.

“Ah...well...what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him? Speaking of, what was Teucer whispering to you about?”

There’s a pensiveness that overtakes you when you look at Teucer again, who’s happily playing some sort of game and completely oblivious to the rest of his surroundings. You won’t, can’t, take his words to heart, and will take them with a grain of salt at most.

“Nothing important. Although I did learn something new...Ajax?”

“Say my name -- fuck, say it, please--”

“I guess cat’s out of the bag,” he chuckles and looks away, absolutely unaware of the flare of heat that swirls in your stomach from the fleeting vision just now. “I came up with other nicknames as a kid to seem cooler, and they just stuck with me. Plus, the business world is full of people who just want something from you, or just a transactional relationship. I’d rather not give my real name to them, if you know what I mean.”

“That’s fair,” you nod and lean to sit on the edge of his desk. A thought pops into your head and you turn the words over in your head like a washing machine on the spin setting, teeth gnawing on the flesh of your bottom lip. If Teucer hadn’t been in the room, he would’ve been this close to kissing you.

“But if it’s worth anything,” your voice slowly, softly starts, cautious and wary of your thoughts. “I think...Ajax suits you best.”

Curse fate. Curse the legendary Archons. Curse karma and deities and spirits because all he wants to do right now is stand and tower over you, trap you between himself and his desk so you can’t escape, take those pretty lips between his until they’re bruised and swollen because of him, hear you call out his name in the throes of pleasure so he can finally replace his fantasies with tangible memories. The unnatural, magnetic pull that draws him to you is unbearable now -- he feels like he’ll lose the last tendrils of his sanity if he doesn’t do something.

You can’t stop him from slowly reaching out to grab one of your hands, lifting it towards him until he’s close enough for you to feel his breath ghost over your knuckles. It sends a shiver down your spine and blood is pounding in your ears because you can’t begin to fathom what he’s thinking about while doing this, even more so when his lips make contact with your skin and your breath hitches, stuck in your throat as he languidly peeks at you beneath his eyelashes with a heated gaze, then lowly confessing, “My name sounds best when you say it.”

Good heavens.

It’s difficult to swallow and keep your composure, especially when Teucer yells out in glee over, what you can assume, beating something in his game, and Childe drops your hand. But his dilated pupils don’t retract in the slightest, refusing to let you look away so that maybe, you can understand what he’s trying to convey to you. He’s taking the first step because he’s terrible and can’t contain his self-control anymore, pushing the ball into your court, ready for you to either play or exit into the sidelines.

When you do blink, there’s a vision of your naked body wrapped around another, limbs clinging desperately to a sturdy and panting frame. Lips, much like the ones that have seared themselves onto your knuckles, are at your neck and sucking, biting, before moving to your ear and laying filthy words into them that drive you closer to the edge. It all happens so fast that you feel you’ve just experienced whiplash, yet also feeling secondhand embarrassment at how lewd some of these thoughts have been.

You can’t stay here any longer.

“I-I have to go,” spills off your tongue before you can really think about it. The way the haze shatters in his eyes is heartbreaking in its own way, but there’s no time for you to explain. Your brain is in overdrive and eager to run, run, run. It detects danger on all fronts, but you muster out a, “H-have a good break, come find me next semester, mmk?”

And you’re out the door with inhuman speed. When the door clicks shut, only then does Teucer look up from his screen and frown at the lack of your presence. “Where’d they go?”

Chlide doesn’t seem to hear him, and Teucer has never seen his big brother look so sad and confused before.

-

He holds on to that last tendril of hope, because mark his words, he will find you come January.

-

After about a week at home, enjoying the festive time with his family and mildly unconcerned about next year’s courses because that was a problem for another day, Childe has his first, crazy, nonsensical dream.

At least, that’s what he tells himself when he snaps awake and his body aches with exhaustion. Not only are his joints in agony, he also feels like he’s sporting unforeseen bruises, which makes absolutely no sense because he hasn’t done anything that would warrant them, no matter how much he and his brothers do some rough-housing. His night of sleep was all consumed by flashes and scenes of weapon fighting, lucid enough to remember feeling his arms flex and wield bows and double-headed polearms and being cognizant of all the enemies??? surrounding him. They ranged from deranged looking monsters, floating beings with soulless masks, and large humans in electricity-padded armor, to behemoth machines in the sky that could leave you within an inch of your life thanks to a drill for a hand?!

But what’s even worse is that you seem to have managed a deal with Morpheus himself and infiltrated his dreams. You were there, too, sometimes fighting with him, sometimes against him, much to his dismay, and while it was nice, he just didn’t get it. Why the friendliness and hostility? Why was there an anger that overtook him when looking directly at you, parrying your blade and sending harmful arcs of water toward your figure?

Why did he relish the fear in your eyes when he darted towards you with electricity cracking through the air?

There’s an overwhelming sensation now to grab his phone to text you and apologize -- for what, he can’t fathom and there are no words to accurately convey what he’s thinking. “Hey, sorry for wanting to kill you in my dream :( “? Or “Sorry for being a friend but then stabbing you in the back, but then being nice to you again”?

And the only thing that really made sense was the serenity and contentment that would course through his veins as the two of you danced around on ivory sandy beaches, picking up shiny blue starconches and taking down more weird creatures; the breathlessness when you would fall back into the water and re-emerge to reconfirm his beliefs that you were one of the most beautiful humans he’d ever laid his eyes on; the love--

Hold the fuck up.

He doesn’t love you. He likes you a whole lot and he’s severely and deathly attracted to you, but he doesn’t love you. Your existence has only been made known to him for about two months, and he didn’t really start talking to you until three weeks in. So no matter how comfortable he feels with you, no matter how much he wishes that you were sleeping peacefully next to him so his nights wouldn’t feel so lonely, it was too early, too hasty, to say that he loves you.

“I’ve been wondering, why didn’t you bring them home?” His mother asks him out of nowhere during breakfast, all to add to this extremely tumultuous roller-coaster morning he’s been having. All he wants to do is eat his bowl of milk and cereal, then potentially go back to sleep before fulfilling his promise to go with his siblings to the nearby skating rink. It takes everything in him to not choke on his spoon of grains.

“Agreed, didn’t you mention they didn’t really have any family to go back to and that the move to Liyue was semi-permanent?” His father chimes in, laying a quick peck on his wife’s temple. “It’s never fun to spend the holidays alone.”

“They would’ve felt like they were intruding,” Childe replies quietly, stabbing his bowl a few times before scooping up another spoonful of cereal to his mouth. “I know we’re friends, but we haven’t known each other for that long, and maybe they’d be uncomfortable because that’s a lot honestly…”

“You don’t know until you try,” his mother sings and pats him on the shoulder. “We do have a guest room after all.”

“For them and their twin?”

“And quite a comfortable futon with enough blankets.”

Childe smiles fondly at his parents’ kindness. He can only imagine what this winter break would’ve been like now -- you and your twin floating around, trying to help out with certain chores, sitting by the fireplace and watching TV, huddled up with mugs of hot chocolate, playing board games with everyone and engaging in all the shenanigans…

Laughing. Loving. Grinning. Basking.

Handing over one of his hoodies to you as a sick way of torturing yet blessing himself for seeing how lovely you look in his clothes, standing silently in the doorway as you attempt to help out with mealtimes next to his mother, watching you run around in the backyard and dodging his siblings’ snowballs while lodging a few of your own -- how wonderful it all would be.

But he squashes it down as quickly as possible, because you escaped his grasp. You ran away from his advances temporarily and even though you gave him permission to seek you out come the spring semester, he worries that you might take it back. Something will wake up inside of you to keep him out of your heart and your life, and he’s not confident enough at this point to believe there’s a good chance you will come spend the holidays with him and his family next year.

“Maybe next year, ma,” he sends her a hesitant, yet somewhat broken purse of his lips that’s just the least bit curved. It tells her everything he’s thinking, and the quick patting of his cheek lets him know she understands.

Half an hour later, Childe finds himself curled up on his side under the sheets, phone in hand as he stares at a blinking cursor. It shouldn’t be so hard to send a text to convey his holiday greetings, because that’s all it is -- part of him is becoming desperate and aching for some interaction with you, even if it’s just a text sent back for conventional social pleasantries. He’ll take it for now, right?

Before he can totally chicken out, his thumbs quickly type a, “Happy Holidays, (y/n) :)”, and it’s a little embarrassing how quickly after he hits the ‘send’ button that he tosses it over his shoulder so he’s not directly looking at it anymore. His heartbeat is too quick and he prays for no phantom vibrations or phantom sound notifications to avoid any disappointment of thinking he got a reply. It was a harmless text, yet he’s treating it like he just got assigned on a mission to go and murder someone for the first time. What will he do if you never text him back? Does that mean you really don’t want to talk to him? Are you dead in a ditch somewhere? Did you change numbers and not tell him? Did your twin get all the details and make the executive decision to block his number? Will he never get a chance to talk to you again, even if it’s about something in the Teyvat Mythology class next semester? Will you--

His shoulder screams in protest when he quickly flips himself over at the text notification sound, hands shakily unlocking his phone and opening up your conversation again. His heart rate significantly decreases, reaching back to its normal pace, especially as he reads the little words on his screen.

“Happy Holidays, Ajax ^^”

There is hope.

-

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”

You’re huddled under the comforter of your twin’s bed, phone just peeking above the edge as you stare at it with a brightness in your eyes. For the most part, you had been sulking there, apart from meals and going back to your own room to sleep, and mentally berating yourself for the way you reacted to Childe the week before.

“He just texted me to say happy holidays,” shrugging to put on a facade of indifference. It’s stupid that you’re trying to hide your feelings from your twin of all people, who could pick apart and identify your emotions in a heartbeat. A roll of his eyes lets you know that you haven’t fooled him at all.

“So you think that whatever comment he made, which was very suggestive and indicative of clearly non-platonic feelings, was just something...friendly? Remind me again how you came to that conclusion?”

“I don’t know what I was thinking!” You whine, looking around to see if there was anything you could toss at him. “It’s just, with everything, all the dreams and stupid gut feelings, I just -- I don’t know, okay?? I can’t tell you enough how much I wish I had just kissed his stupid face and see where it goes from there.”

“Okay, gross, but don’t beat yourself up. Though...I do have a good idea on how to maybe get a good reaction out of him. You wanna go to the New Years’ celebration at Xiangling’s?”

“I think she’d threaten me with a knife if I didn’t. She wanted to go shopping at some point, too.”

“I’ll drop the overprotective brother act for one night, okay? One night, just to let this happen, and for your peace of mind.”

He does a fair amount of conspiring with Xiangling, a friend they met one time at a restaurant a couple years ago, even tagging along on the shopping trip. Together, the three of you find yourself a dress that Xiangling swears would make any person drool over you, including Childe, because at the end of the day, he was a person with the possibility of being attracted to you.

You think it’s a bit silly, but honestly, what do you have to lose at this point?

-

At 11:57PM on New Years’ Eve, Childe is standing outside in the freezing cold with his family, arms lifting up bags of sparklers and fireworks. They’ve driven out closer to the wild like they do every year, and everybody excitedly gets lighters ready, making sure someone’s got a clock out there that tells the seconds. As the younger kids open up the packaging and argue over which one to set off first, Childe’s phone vibrates in his coat pocket.

It’s 11:58PM when he manages to fish the device out and thank himself for buying gloves that are touch-screen friendly, excited to see that there are two texts from you, the latter reading, “Happy New Year!”. It doesn’t matter that you’re a little early, but he’s mainly intrigued by the fact a photo came before it. In his mind, you’re probably curled up with your twin brother, hopefully a selfie because wow, he misses your face.

He gets something else instead, and he is so glad that it’s dark outside and the electric lamp they have is too far away from him to draw any attention.

You have your arm around your brother’s waist and another girl’s that he doesn’t recognize, but it’s a full frontal view of your outfit, one that hugs your curves beautifully and shows more cleavage than he’s ever seen from you, sophisticated and elegant, yet fun and leaving enough to the imagination. There’s a bright smile coming from all of you, and you look like you’re at someone’s house or apartment with plenty of other people milling around in the back, but they don’t matter, not when all he can focus on is you.

Gorgeous, breathtaking, arousing, mind blowing, and gods, he wishes he could teleport to Liyue at this moment, find you, and kiss you right at midnight. Fuck the fact that he doesn’t exactly believe in superstitions like, “Kissing your significant other at midnight means you’ll last forever!” but he’s willing to take the chance with it on this night and the ones after, if he’s allowed. He tries not to think too much about pinning you against the wall and letting the world dissolve -- wants to be the one with the privilege to drag down that zipper and feel his bare skin on yours, and --

As Teucer starts yelling there’s only a minute left, he instinctively locks his phone and shoves it away out of anyone’s view. The last thing he needs is his family teasing him about ogling at your photo for a straight 50 seconds, wide-eyed and pupils on the verge of dilating, the visible breath leaving his mouth just a smudge more dense and prominent than usual.

The only thing he can do to distract himself from popping a boner in front of his parents is to join in on the countdown, making sure all the fireworks are set up correctly and grabbing a sparkler for himself. He waves it around with Tonia and promises to fulfill her wishes of taking one of those pictures right as she draws a pattern in the air. Their excitement is palpable and addicting, and even though the larger fireworks set off a few seconds after midnight hits, the nostalgia fills his lungs with fond memories and future wishes that they only continue this tradition for as long as possible, and hopefully, with you at his side.

-

When it’s 12:04AM, you get a picture message back of Childe bundled up in a black paletot coat, matching beanie and all, a gloved hand holding a sparkler and lips curved upwards, with a caption that says, “Happy New Year’s! See you soon :)”. You show it to Xiangling and your brother, both taking it as a win in their books, although the former does tipsily protest that there should be a better indicator of Childe’s brain breaking at how amazing you look right now. Maybe she’s prophetic, because another text chimes in and the words set you aflame, as well as suggestive whoops into your ears.

It’s a simple, “You look incredible btw”.

If you didn’t want to properly savor this moment, you would’ve found the nearest shot of the strongest liquor and tossed it back with abandon. But you want to remember the warmth in your veins that wasn’t from the alcohol or the heating, the fluttering of your heartbeat, the teeth-baring grin that you couldn’t fight off, the constant re-reading of those four words -- because they’re so different from everything you had been feeling before with him, the need for protection, the need to escape. Instead, you’d like to be in his arms right now and see for yourself how he’d look at you in this moment, and if he would take any action.

You want him to. So, so bad.

-

Childe spends his last week at home hating the fact that you’re just sitting around somewhere in Liyue, doing whatever you’re doing, probably doing some light preparation for your last semester of classes, and he’s not there to take advantage of all this free time and hang out with you. When classes start, it’ll be busy and hectic. You still have your thesis to finish and revise, and while that won’t eat up all your time, it’s still some that he’d want to fill in with his presence if he could. He debates whether or not he should ask for your schedule and compare it with his, maybe set up meetings every other day or propose that they all eat one meal together every day. Childe’s not quite sure of what you plan to do after graduation, as it hasn’t come up in conversation yet, but either way, he’s determined to stay in contact and make things work out. Long distance isn’t ideal, but with technology now, he’ll take it.

He feels a little bad for how excited he probably looked to be leaving home, uncharacteristic for the most part. His older siblings have already gone back to their respective homes, and it’s mainly Teucer and Tonia that worry and tear up when he starts packing his belongings. Tonia finds it unfair that Teucer got to meet you first and the latter makes sure to rub it into everyone’s faces. It’s hard for Childe to sleep on the plane because he’s thrumming with excitement, yet somehow even more nervous than usual when the plane hits small bouts of turbulence, and he doesn’t seem to relax until he sets foot back on campus.

He’s here. It’s January, and you’re physically closer to him than ever in the last two weeks.

-

“Found you.”

On the first day of classes, you’re sitting alone with some salad greens in a bowl, poking your fork at some scraps while you watch something on your phone, earbuds in and back towards the entrance of the canteen. It would explain the unannounced entrance of the very person who’s been at the forefront of nearly every thought in the last 96 hours, his fingers gingerly removing an earbud to surprise you as best as possible, and you startle in your seat.

Your heart kicks into overdrive when he hands you back your earbud and pulls out the seat next to you, setting his own plate of food down as he plops down in his chair. But then he says nothing afterwards, instead choosing to send you a cheeky grin before digging in. You’re left to slowly phase out of your state of shock, stuck between either running away or frantically texting your twin to come and save you even though he was off on a date with Keqing.

It’s not that you weren’t elated at the fact that Childe had done exactly as you told him last month, you just weren’t...prepared? It’s a shitty excuse and a cop out -- you’re mainly just having trouble with racking your brain to find the right words. What are you supposed to say? What should you do? Is it socially acceptable to lean over and kiss him on the cheek because that’s what you’d like to impulsively do at this very second??

“So you did,” you settle and steal a roasted potato wedge from his plate. It’s his turn to be taken by surprise, but he gets over it much quicker than you do. In fact, he spears two wedges and drops them in your bowl, smiling at you as best as he can with a mouth full of food. You give them your thanks before the silence settles in again.

“Did you have a good break?” He asks before his next bite.

“I did. You?”

“It was nice. My parents said I should’ve brought you and your twin home to spend the holidays with us. Can’t say it didn’t cross my mind before finals.”

Holy shit, what? “We couldn’t intrude like that, but that’s really nice of you guys.”

“That’s okay, there’s plenty of chances to visit later.”

You tilt your head and furrow your eyebrows. “But we graduate this semester?”

Childe challenges you with one of his own eyebrows raised. “And? Are we never gonna see each other again?”

Honestly, the possibility had occurred to you. You aren’t entirely sure of Childe’s plans after graduation, and if that meant he was staying in Liyue or going back to Snezhnaya or even moving to Inazuma or Mondstat. While people preach on and on about how lasting friendships and relationships are often formed during college, you believe it’s more common to slowly drift apart as life gets busier. And if Childe moved away, or if you did, it’d be hard to consistently keep in touch with 10 hour workdays.

The thought saddens you, regardless. You like him so much and you’re glad that he was even in your life to begin with, because as unbelievable as it sounds, seeing him was almost akin to the feeling of coming home. Amidst all your nerves, your confusion, your spiraling thoughts, something deeply sated in your heart was a comfort that you found with very few people in your life whenever in his presence.

The thought of leaving and never looking back somehow doesn’t feel new -- it’s bittersweet, but the air in your lungs feels like it’s surrendered to something, like it was to be expected.

“You can’t just leave without telling me--”

“It was last minute! I had no choice!”

“You could’ve written up a message, anything--”

“Can you imagine the position you’d be in if the message got intercepted? I wouldn’t have been safe, she’d make you come after me--”

“As if you’d be any safer in Inazuma of all places! That’s the one place I can’t easily get to!”

“I can take care of myself, Childe, I don’t need you to protect me.”

“This isn’t about me protecting you, (y/n) and -- stop walking, will you?!”

“Then what is this about?” You spin on your wheel with eyes aflame. “Why are you so angry with me? It’s normal for me to disappear for weeks at a time, why was this any different?”

“Because you could’ve died!” He yells back in despair, chest heaving. Your silence is his cue to continue. “You could’ve died and I wouldn’t have known until much later. You could’ve died and all I’d ever think about were the things I never got to say to you, and how I wish I had treated every day with you like it was our last.”

It isn’t hard to tell that you’re stunned and at a complete loss for words. Childe often hides behind facades of charm and wit, and only when he is truly weak does he choose to be this vulnerable, baring his heart for you to see.

“I only have two nightmares in this world. One, my family being harmed in any way. Two, reading in a report or hearing from an agent that you’ve been captured and killed.”

“I like to think that we will.”

His hand reaches out to lay on top of yours, giving it a quick squeeze. “Well, let’s make the most of it this semester.”

Conversation afterwards is easy, filling each other in on holiday activities. Childe speaks extensively about several family traditions and you listen with rapt attention, basking in how fond he is of all of them. Even as you both bring your dishes to the return belt and leave, he immediately offers to drive you both somewhere to get boba, noticing your reluctance to part ways. But boba shops have to close, and you both have class tomorrow morning, and you’re both finding any excuse to keep talking, even if that means sitting outside your dorm building on a nearby bench.

You eventually bid each other good night’s and see you later’s, him refusing to walk away until the heavy door locks shut behind you after you swipe your student ID, and you looking over your shoulder to watch his figure disappear into the night.

-

True to his intentions, Childe makes great efforts to meet you at least once a day, and he can’t get enough. Each parting from you tugs and tugs at his heart, as if there’s a high possibility you’ll never want to see him again the next day, and he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. Your twin and Childe get along well for the most part, and he even meets Xiangling on one of her shifts at her regular restaurant, who sends you a salacious wink and an eyebrow wiggle over his shoulder that nearly causes you to burst from embarrassment.

February rolls over without a hitch, even if you’re a little disappointed that Childe didn’t make a move for Valentine’s Day. Granted, you two still spent time with each other and he’s so darn physically affectionate and he bought you a carnation from the event his dorm held, but you wish you had the guts to fess up and just kiss the man.

It’ll happen some day, you tell yourself. You have time before graduation.

Two days before the end of the Friday that would signal the start of Spring Break, you wake up in a cold sweat, mind reeling and head splitting, heart so so heavy, as a connection is made between your present and your dreams. Not long after, there are tears streaming silently down your face and into your open palms placed in your lap, and you sit in shock as everything comes back to you. Memories are such treasured burdens, you realize.

For the most part, you had gotten used to the dreams, choosing to take charge of what you know and feel now with Childe over succumbing to some strange neurological premonitions. Especially in your dreams when many people’s faces were blurred over and hazy, and the only things you could rely on were voices, touch, and other physical features. You thought that maybe your mind was just playing tricks by transposing Childe’s hair onto a body that was also strikingly similar to his, but for the first time last night, you could see each defining feature on his face as clear as day.

The sight of his figure arching gracefully over yours, the water arrows that appeared out of thin air, the back that protected you from some military men, the voice that said, “Hey girlie, hold still.”

And that was when you had snapped awake to your current state.

Past the initial shock and uncontrollable tears, you soon bent over as sobs wracked your chest, overwhelmed by all the emotions and the pain the memories brought you; losing your twin, finding him to only be left with even more questions after roaming for decades and decades, meeting all your loved ones throughout Mondstat and Liyue, fighting yet falling so hard for Childe, feeling the fear when facing his Foul Legacy form, hating him for Osial, loving him, breathing heavily as the tip of your blade was pointed at his neck and his own just centimeters from yours, tendrils of water inching closer and closer--

Everything makes sense now.

When you meet your twin for lunch at the cafeteria, you pay no mind to the fact that you’re in public and hug him harder than you ever have in years. He’s already a little alarmed that your eyes seem swollen and you look like finals came two months early, but when he asks what’s wrong, all he gets is a shake of your head and nothing more than, “Just a bad nightmare. I love you, y’know that?”

“I love you too?”

“Don’t sound so unsure, now let’s go and get in line before they run out of Jueyun Chili Chicken.”

Even when you meet Xiao later in the early evening to talk about your thesis, you find yourself holding back more tears just two minutes in, reminded of his past and his own life, and he’s moderately concerned, hesitantly handing you a tissue from the corner of his desk when a stray tear escapes. “Is everything okay?” He hesitantly asks, really hoping that he didn’t do anything to make you cry.

“No,” you almost wail and sniffle while dabbing at your eyes. “Sorry, it’s just been a really long day.”

Xiao’s inquisitive gaze softens, remembering how hard undergraduate life could be sometimes. Graduate school was a whole other level, but that shouldn’t discount your own personal difficulties. Plus, in all of the year and a half that he’s known you, you’ve never broken down like this before in front of him.

“You work really hard, Xiao,” you continue, and he’s not sure where this is coming from. “You’re always so helpful and willing to work with me and answer my stupid questions and like-- you practice self-care, right?”

Xiao nods as a white lie, but it seems to comfort you. Maybe too much because you pull him in for a quick and unexpected hug, and you both decide to reschedule this meeting for tomorrow.

As per usual, you wait for Childe to join you for dinner since you finished up earlier than expected. It gives you more time to think about everyone from Mondstat -- Kaeya, Diluc, Lisa, Jean, Amber...funny to think that some things never changed as you compared their past version to the ones you know now.

“Mora for your thoughts?”

There’s a peace that warms your heart when you hear Childe’s voice, one that forces you to smile at him as he sits down next to you. “Just thinking about old friends.”

“I have to admit, I’ll be a little jealous if it’s another guy taking up more space than me in that pretty brain of yours.”

What a flirt. This man isn’t good for your heart. “Who said you had any to begin with?”

He dramatically places a hand over his heart. “You wound me, (y/n). How will I ever recover?”

“You’re ridiculous,” you snicker. Childe reaches over to pinch your cheek and you bat at him in protest. Easily, he grabs one of your hands and simply pulls you towards the food lines, knowing that you’ll stop fighting back soon.

Part of it feels strange now to feel and see his hands with no leather gloves on.

“Childe,” you start halfway through your meal, continuing after he hums back in reply. “Do you believe in reincarnation?”

He freezes briefly, but recovers so quickly that if you hadn’t been watching so closely, you wouldn’t have noticed. “I think it’s neat, the idea of having past lives. Why do you ask?”

What he really wants to ask is if you’ve been having those dreams, too; if he’s starring in your nights like you have been in his.

“Just a thought, especially since you’re taking Teyvat Myth now, too.”

“Do you...do you think if there was a past life, that we knew each other?”

There’s something about the look of content on your face before you meet his gaze -- he thinks that you know more than you’re letting on but you’re holding back for some reason. He wants to know what’s going through your brain right now, why the fondness in your eyes sends a jolt through him like he’s been searching for it all his life, if you know anything about this magnetic pull between you two.

“I like to think that we knew each other well.”

-

Even though the first day of your returned memories was somewhat eventful, you couldn’t help but feel yourself wanting to pull back from Childe -- at least, until you can successfully compartmentalize which emotions belonged to you past self and which ones belonged to your current mindset. You didn’t quite agree with his duties and his affiliation with the Fatui back then, even if he had his reasons that did make sense, to some degree.

The killing, the threatening, so intent on stealing Rex Lapis’s Gnosis in the name of the Tsaritsa, summoning Osial as a mean to an end -- and you definitely can’t forget how stubborn he was in not listening to your protests, so caught up in his brain that you had betrayed him and sent you plummeting to a near-death experience despite his earlier promise of no intention of killing you specifically.

Everything had been toeing a faint, thin line with Childe then. Undeniable chemistry and tension, guarding yourself for yours and Paimon’s safety, slashing at Fatui agents, whispering out pleas and affirmations of “I’m yours” while riding him, sometimes having to sneak out in the mornings…

The only thing you don’t remember is how everything ends -- maybe it’ll come back to you eventually, but for now, you think you’re okay not knowing.

If Childe still doesn’t remember anything from back then, you think it’d be unfair to spend time with him in all your conflicting emotions, even when it’s spring break, where you have so much more hours in the day to be with each other than normal. Fun plans around Liyue had been made, like a two-day one-night trip to Yaoguang Shoal, and you’re this close to cancelling on him.

But he had been looking forward to it so much, even made most of the preparations for it. Who are you to rob that joy from him when it was you who couldn’t figure out your own shit? Are you self-destructing?

Perhaps.

Before you know it, you’re sitting in the passenger seat of his car, staring out the window at the scenery. Somehow, it pleased you to see that the nature of Liyue had been carefully preserved over the many centuries despite its development into the modern age. You get lost in picking apart the differences between then and now that you don’t notice how quiet you’ve fallen and Childe looks over worriedly when you show no reaction to your favorite songs playing on the stereo.

Even when he calls your name once, twice, nothing gives as you clearly have tuned everything out. So he leaves you be until there’s about half an hour left on the drive, unable to hold back and succumbing to reach over for your hand. You startle so strongly that he almost feels bad for having done it unannounced. But what’s even more disturbing is that this isn’t really the first time.

You’ve been talking to him less, often sitting quietly and staring off into another world that he can’t seem to reach. His texts are answered less frequently and with less wit and enthusiasm, so much so that he just appreciates you still show up to see him. Each time he asks if you’re okay, you always affirm that you are. He’s had a hard time believing you, but Childe believes you’ll tell him when you’re ready, surely.

It’s a little ironic yet fateful that Childe planned to bring you here, of all places. In the past, you had spent many days and nights running around in the sand with him, fighting slimes and hilichurls and collecting starconches for him. You remember laying on a large towel next to him as you both looked up into the sky, pointing out stars and constellations while sharing endless kisses away from prying, spying eyes.

“I’m sorry, I must’ve zoned out,” you sincerely apologize.

“It’s okay, I just wanna make sure you relax while we’re here. This is supposed to be a vacation.”

“You’re right,” you agree and squeeze his hand. “Let’s make the most of it before we become adults who are too busy to have fun like this again.”

And you do. Childe rented a small beach cabin (rich boys) closer to one end of the shoreline, just big enough with two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a small kitchen with a dining table. You help him bring in your bags and some groceries bought the night before, setting them down quickly so you can peer out the window again to take in the view. Childe picked a good time, too. Although it’d be a little chilly at night, the day was still warm and mainly overcast with clouds.

“What do you say we change into our swimsuits and head down to the water?”

“Sure.”

Childe hadn’t really been expecting for you to step out in a large, casual tee and gym shorts, one shoulder exposed. He might have been hoping to see a little more skin, but his mother didn’t raise a chauvinistic pervert for a son.

The light in your eyes as you both approach the water is everything he had been missing the last few days, your excitement and joy contagious. As soon as you place everything down on the sand, you kick off your flip flops and leave him behind to step into the water, giggling at feeling the waves crash over your ankles and bring sand between your toes. Childe approaches you from behind and starts smearing sunblock on the back of your neck, to which you just grin beautifully at him in thanks and he has to fight off the desire to kiss you right then and there.

You’re too caught up in embracing the ocean afterwards to feel the shrinking distance between you two, mistaking his warmth for the general spring air. It isn’t until he’s done with your shoulders that he hands you the bottle to leave you to do the rest of your body, and when you turn to thank him, he’s much closer than you remember. His eyes are gentle, holding your gaze and almost daring you to look away first.

But if there’s one thing you can place without a shred of doubt, it is the unmistakable look of love, because you had seen it many, many times before without knowing until later what it meant.

How so incredibly lucky you were to have Childe back in your life now, loving you all the same, and with no life-threatening barriers. Fate or the Archons have given you a second chance, and you’d be damned to take it for granted.

Childe welcomes your lips against his, wasting no time to bring you into his arms so you’re pressed against him as much as possible. He can’t care for the overt public display of affection because this is everything he’s wanted for months now, waiting patiently for you to give him permission to make you his. Your lips are incredibly soft and pliant against his as you first kiss him patiently, then applying more force and desperation to taste more of him. He mirrors you, one hand cradling the back of your head and the other on your neck with a thumb extended to your jawline, teeth moving to nip at your bottom lip. It’s dangerous, the way you smile against his lips, and when he sinks his teeth in deeper before pulling back, your quiet mewl nearly drives him over the edge.

But you’re in public, and this was an amazing first kiss. You two have a beach to enjoy and a fun night planned, and now that he doesn’t have to hold back on his affections, it’ll be even better.

His lips part from yours regretfully, his eyes languidly opening to meet yours. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots a blue starconch in the sand and freezes.

It’s not that he’s never seen one before, but something clicks. You. The shore. Starconches. Starry nights. His dreams. Monsters. Gods. Fighting. So much fighting. Training. His family. Dragons. You. Falling. You falling. You fighting him. Yelling. Kissing. Loving. Chasing. Him chasing you before you disappear at a teleport waypoint that somehow you only can operate. The abyss. Your twin.

Oh, Archons.

“ -ou okay, Ajax? Ajax?”

He snaps to look at you again. How does he go about this? How does he ask?

“(Y/n)...have you ever heard of the Fatui Harbingers?”

He has to admit that it’s a bit amazing to be able to identify all the emotions that cross your complexion, from curiosity to realization to conflicted. You’re actively trying to piece everything together without revealing too much on the off-chance that you’re wrong, that Childe hasn’t regained his memories and is just asking about something from class randomly and completely out of the blue.

Wait.

“You haven’t reached that material yet in class,” you whisper, heart in your throat at the realization. Could it really be…

“I was once Tartaglia, eleventh Harbinger of the Fatui, who possessed a Delusion and used my Foul Legacy Transformation with you several times,” he murmurs back, tucking a stray tendril behind your ear. “Is it too late to apologize again for summoning an ancient god and letting you fall about five floors with no warning?”

He should’ve been prepared for you wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a tight embrace. “No, never, but I spent weeks after kicking your ass so you’ve been long forgiven.”

Childe burrows his face into your neck, breathing in your scent and basking in this moment. There was so much to talk about, but you two arguably had more time in the world than ever with nothing holding you back. There was no impending war looming over, no one on the run, no opposing forces. His silent wish for a different life with you seems to have been answered finally. If running into you had been the event to set everything in motion, he only wishes he’d done so earlier.

All that matters now is you’re here together in this plane of existence, given a chance to love again, and experience everything you couldn't before.

As written in the stars, take my soul for it is forever yours.

fin

[workofheart]

eren jaeger relationship hcs

eren’s turn! modern relationship hcs. nsfw under the cut as per usual <3 levi ver.

really clingy. when ur away on a trip or something, he definitely cuddles your pillow and buries his head in it. might also spray your perfume on his hoodie so he can be reminded of you throughout the day (as if you aren’t already on his mind 24/7)

on that note, LOVES seeing you in his clothing. i feel like for most guys this is true and people mention it all the time, but eren especially. it makes him feel mushy and horny at the same time (more on that later) bc it just drapes over your shoulders perfectly. like he sees you and has to suck in a breath and look away to collect himself or else he’ll just become a puddle on the floor

likes hearing verbal affirmations. when you compliment him, tell him you’re proud of him, he gets all warm and fuzzy inside. it means so much coming from you and he knows you're genuine

really goofy, this is to be expected - tries to get you to laugh bc it raises his self esteem and confidence. he just likes looking at you being happy and smiling, it makes him feel so warm inside

definitely hides behind corners when he hears you walking or coming down the stairs so he can jump out and scare you. don’t worry though, because he always proceeds to hug you and kiss your forehead or temple to say he’s sorry but only kind of bc ur reaction was priceless. the little whack u give his arm in annoyance? he lovessss it bc it’s like he knows u still love him even when he is a little obnoxious

eren is definitely one of those enemies to lovers kind of guy bc he desperately wants someone to love him not necessarily in spite of his flaws, but with his flaws. he needs u to acknowledge that he’s far from a perfect person but still love him regardless

his favorite kind of dates are park dates. he likes going on warm & sunny days to throw a frisbee around with you in the open fields. i feel like he’s a basketball guy so he’ll bring you onto the court and play knockout... when he loses, will tell you he let you win on purpose for the sake of his ego 

lolll imagine him critiquing your free throw form or something and coming up behind you to fix it (it wasn’t actually that bad, he just wanted an excuse to be near you)

really needs physical touch. he’s the kind of guy who will always be in contact w you in some way or another. when driving, his hand will be on your thigh or holding yours on top of the center console, same for if you’re out at restaurants but under the table. he’d definitely try and play footsies with you if you’re sitting across from him rather than beside him. when sleeping, he holds you really tight and won’t let you roll over so you better just get comfortable. 

doesn’t mind being ur photographer and taking pics for you. he takes some time to learn the methods for the best pics but he eventually gets it

this is kind of random but when playing minecraft, he always blows up creepers and never fills in the creeper holes :| sorry. to make up for it he’ll get you music discs. also likes just going on little adventures to find a sand biome two thousand blocks away and just walking with you in game

on this topic actually i LOVE the idea of gamer bf eren. like not the league-and-monster-drinking kind but sumn about him in a headset and sitting at the edge of his bed... but he’ll definitely teach you how to play shooter games and will be so nice about it, won’t get mad at you, will give you little kisses when you’re not doing well and getting frustrated, and if you’re playing in online lobbies together he’ll stick by you the whole time and carry you

always sending you tiktoks & tries to get you to do all the trends with him. they never go viral but he goes back and watches them when he misses you

i peg him as a cat guy! really good with animals in general. i think most people would expect him to be a dog person since he can be loud and rowdy and excited, but on an emotional level i think he also just likes to be calm and relaxed and would get along with cats well. also teases you when animals reject you for him.

definitely writes about you in his journal. he jots down funny things you say or do or moments you shared so he never forgets any of them, and when he misses you he’ll read through them :( imagine when you’re so much older and he has documented proof of his love for you back when he was young please it makes me cry

also writes down little poetic words or things that remind him of you. he’ll hear a quote in a movie or a book or a song that instantly makes you pop into his head and he just has to write it down. he’s probably tried writing poems or songs about you, but he keeps those really secret because he’s embarrassed

this is kind of random but i think he’s a total beach person! likes going to spend days in the sun, builds sand castles and asks for your rating, drags you into the water to swim with him, will dive under and grab your ankles to freak you out, also looks really good in swim trunks but that's besides the point

he hates to see you upset and tries to cuddle the sadness out of you. when needs be, he’s a really good listener and doesn’t mind letting you just vent. when you cry, he pulls you in for a really tight hug and cradles your head - also because if he sees you crying, he’ll start to cry too because he genuinely feels for you 

tries his best to take care of you when you’re sick. not really a good cook or anything, but he’ll make you a grilled cheese or a pop tart, albeit a little crispy even though it’s his third attempt. doesn’t mind being near you and isn’t afraid of getting sick so he’ll cuddle you anyway

loses focus when you’re talking to him sometimes but it’s not because he’s not listening, it’s because he just gets caught up in staring at you and how you look when you talk bc he just adores you. when you snap him out of his, he always gets all red and blushy :(

nsfw under the cut (18+)

really likes sending & receiving nudes/lewds. he always goes for the torso selfie to show off his chest/abs when sending, and it doesn’t matter to him what you send back because he’ll like anything you have to offer

and his responses aren’t lame either. NOT the type to send you a thumbs up or a “ayo you sexy as hell fr doe” - he will hype you up with dirty talk because he seriously means it. honestly might just send you a voice message, or call you if you’re alone and available bc while he might look at pics of you from time to time for aesthetics, the majority of the time he’s jacking off

so you know how i said he likes seeing you in his clothing? he especially likes nudes of you in his clothes. send him a pic wearing his zip up hoodie & nothing else and he’s yours 

he prefers being in control/being on top but doesn’t mind if you want to take the reigns every once in a while

throws his head back and groans when u give him head. that's the image.

one of his favorite positions is when you’re in doggy but he pulls you up by the arms so your back is against his chest. he’ll snake a hand around to rub tight little circles on your clit, might put his hand around your throat if you like it. heavenly.

reallyyyy dirty mouth omg. asks sooo many teasing questions, likes hearing you say his name. “you like that, princess?” “louder for me” “who’s making you feel this good?” ugh and it’s not awkward either he makes it sound so good

has a lot of energy and a lot of stamina. stroke game will make you pass out, he’s so smooth and sets such a rhythm with his hips

things that get him going: kissing under his jaw, especially up by his ear. sucking his fingers. tugging on his hair. running your nails down his back.

pins your thighs to the bed when he eats you out. likes to make you squirm and loooves to edge you. super teasing in every way

can we just talk about his voice for a sec... he has the prettiest moans and isn’t afraid to let you know how he’s feeling. when you’re in missionary, he’ll hold himself up with one elbow, hold your hand with the other, and will lean down to moan right in your ear. sometimes does it on purpose bc he knows it turns you on from how you clench around him

usually has a death grip on that sensitive spot between your hips and your waist so he has something to hold on to while he pounds you

when he cums, he 100% buries his face in the crook of your neck, might even bite down from time to time 

can totally see him going harder if he knows there’s people around, he doesn’t care who it is that’s outside the door but they’re gonna hear how good he’s making you feel whether you like it or not

wants to see your face when you cum. will definitely tell you to cum for him and keep your eyes open when he’s really feeling it - your expression makes him nut so fucking hard lawwddd

daps u up after sex just cause he’s weird like that lol

[systemadministratorclu]

"We take all the help we can get. Thankfully, I've been able to convince the active Resistance that no, I'm actually not the head of the Occupation-the group's name for themselves-they just use my image, and until recently, me, to do a lot of horrible things. I.....there's a part of my code they use to do it. It's the reason they kept me alive. They can't take that code from me without damaging it beyond repair. It's hurt them that I've managed to get away, with some help from the Resistance and an old friend who is inside the Occupation. No, he's not one of them, he had the position before they took over, and they kept him in it. He's using that position for intel and spying for us. Especially for me. It's.....it's a lot to explain.....We should get to somewhere safer first. Oh, and that change." The program flung a hand at Dave, and what looked like flurries of glowing blue snow swirled around him, changing his spacesuit into......a form fitting black suit much like other people here had on. Patterns of blue light flickered on, forming a sort of circuit design over him. A weight seemed to materialize on his back. A separate 'flurry' swirled into Clu's hands, materializing into what looked like a Frisbee, but with the center removed.

"This is your Identity Disc," Clu said, "It's essentially everything you are, and all your memories exist on it and are easily accessible. I'm sure it's a little different for Users, but I'm not sure exactly how. I do know you don't want to be caught without it, though. It's also your main weapon, should you need one. Alright, I gave you blue circuits, as that is the most common color and least likely to attract unwanted attention."

“So, are you a friend of Hal’s? Well, any friend of his is a friend of mine.” Dave said, looking closely at Clu.

"Huh? Oh yes, he's actually my Administrative aide, and I don't know how I ever functioned without him. It's a big job running the whole Grid, and I'm just one program........You're one of his User friends, aren't you."

[ground-zero-idiocies]

imagine if you would, super soldier sole survivor. bullet proof shield that bounces around like a frisbee, taking the heads off 4 raiders at once.

oh hell yes.

Fallout 4 Companions React: Nora is (basically) Captain America

Nora and friends are trapped. Pinned down against a wall during a routine sweep of Monsignor Square. Raiders go there often, and ridding the Commonwealth of the raider scourge is a top priority for the savior of the wastes.

This time, though, things aren’t going so well. The remnants of the forged gang have somehow gotten ahold of full suits of power armor (don’t question it) and have fought Nora and friends into a corner. This looks like this is the end, until…

Almost like an inner awakening, a flame shines bright in Nora’s eyes. The flame of protective anger. Nora gazes at the pip-boy on her arm, pressing a few buttons in rapid succession. In her left hand appears a metal disc - a shield, tough enough to withstand bullets but light enough to be thrown like a frisbee.

In the blink of an eye, Nora begins charging. She runs straight at the lead raider, jumping up and kicking him straight in the chest plate. Using the momentum, she spins upwards, jumping onto the ceiling and pushing off the decaying wood. She lands on the ground, jumping off the wall and, with one perfect shield throw, decapitates four of the five raiders, their helmeted heads toppling to the floor with loud clanks.

As the last Raider starts to reload, she slams the shield into his back, forcing him into the ground. She turns him over, and pulls off the helmet.

“Run. Go and tell your little raider friends that my family is not to be fucked with.”

The last raider scampers away quickly, trying to grab his power armor helmet but having it crushed by Nora at the last second. He crawls out, sprinting away as soon as he gets outside. Nora throws the shield one more time, knocking the fusion core out of the raider’s power armor as he flees.

And just like that, it’s over. The fire dies down and Nora tries to proceed as if nothing happened. However, her friends have a little something to say…

Cait: “Am I high right now, or did you just pull an indestructible shield from a God-damn pocket dimension and crush those raiders like a Grognak comic? Good grief lass, you gotta tell us you can do this shit. Really coulda helped me get outta some jams!”

Codsworth: “Well mum, I’m glad to see that the dumbbell set Sir got you is finally paying off! Hahaha! Really though, thank you for saving me. Those raiders really ought to learn some manners, charging at us like that!”

Curie: “Madam, you never cease to amaze me! You know ever skill that could ever be needed in the wasteland and you can do them all perfectly. Truly incredible, what a human you are!”

Deacon: “Oh yeah, I can totally do that too. I also just choose to keep my anime protagonist superpowers a secret instead of using them all the time at every possible convenience.”

Danse: “Knight, I can say that I’ve never seen anything like that in my long tour of duty with the Brotherhood. Could this be related to your Institute visits? Have you been replaced by a synth? Abnormal feats of strength like that are usually only found with families protecting each oth…Knight, I…I don’t know what to say…”

Gage: “No wonder you beat Colter with a fucking squirt gun, you just beat 5 raiders in fucking POWER ARMOR with a metal pancake…damn, I really don’t know what to say…”

Hancock: “I just wrote that I need new Jet, so Im definitely not high or hallucinating - hell, even testosterone boy saw it. Look lady, I don’t know what the fuck your just did, but that is some mysterious stranger type o’ shit right there. Just…wow.”

Jack Cabot: “Oh no, I’m afraid my father’s artifact may have made an impact on you…this is a grave misfortune…”(He’s going to be like this for several hours. don’t try to talk to him).

Longfellow: “Y’know what? I’ve elected to pretend that that didn’t happen. Thank you Nora, but please don’t do that again. I swear, this old asshole’s gonna have a heart attack if you pull that superhero shit again.”

MacCready: “Ho…ly…fu…crap…What the actual crap! You could do that the whole time???? Man, Duncan’s gonna love it when I tell him about this! His dad’s hanging out with a Wasteland Captain Cosmos?? Incredible!”

Nick Valentine: “So, you picked up some of this ol’ fart’s little tricks, huh? Really though, that was some impressive fighting. Really sent lil’ curly hair for a spin, didn’t ya? Just don’t tell McDounough about all this, or he’ll think you’re some Institute spy with a magic kill raider subroutine. Man, why couldn’t I get one of those?”

Piper: “Oh. My. God. Blue! That was crazy! Straight up insane! Like those comics Nat likes to read…uh…Captain Boston! Just like that! Man, Diamond City is gonna flip when they hear about this! Breaking: Local Vault Popsicle turns out to be awesome Super-soldier!!”

Preston: (stunned silence)

Strong: “Little lady hit raider on head with big metal circle. Little raider man run like rad roach!! Strong like see little raider man crush with metal circle!! HAHAHA!”

X6-88: “Ma’am, forgive me for this, but I wasn’t made aware that next-gen Courser training involved the imitation of pre-war superheroes and myths. I ought to check my handbook.”

[kalee60]

i wish you would write a fic where jock!bucky seduces twink!steve, maybe he hits steve with that pec flex guys do that is both dick-ish and insanely hot at the same time?

Oh Manda - you absolute gorgeous gem! I very much like what you're asking me to create here 😘 I also love, love, love that you sent me a prompt!

I immediately think of sun, summer, ice cream, boys at the beach playing frisbee and our gorgeous Smol!Steve and Jock!Bucky as friends mutually pining (Ha - it's me, it was never going to be anything but this story!)

Once again, my quick little drabble (that I wrote today when I woke up {thanks to my sprinting buddies in discord}) turned into a 4k fic... But I mean - I think that's okay (more stucky for us - right?)

I hope you like where I took this, maybe in a slightly different direction than intended - it's also on ao3 here (with all tags necessary) if you prefer to check them out and read there instead, it'll be part of my stucky bingo fills - Beach and rated M for mild sexual content 😉

If you'd like a fic - here's the post - I wish you'd write a fic... (It might take me a little bit to write - but I will get there!)

Steve was in hell, literally. It was hot, he was sweaty and he was being tortured. Honestly, Steve really loved summer, but at the same time he loathed it. And most of that had to do with the fact he had to sit around in his large group of friends and watch Bucky fucking Barnes sans top and wearing only a small pair of running shorts frolic over the sand at the beach.

Life was unfair. 

How could somebody like Bucky actually exist in real time? He was a complete jock for starters, his looks and size perfect for being naturally great at sports, earning him a football scholarship of his choice (of course). And Steve, well Steve Rogers was as far from a jock as anyone could get. Not that he was horrible in the fitness and muscular department, but he was too little and his asthma still played up to join rugged contact sports. Being 5’4 also didn’t particularly endear him to any of the coaches at college who were scouting for star players. Plus studying to be a high school teacher probably wasn’t sporty enough, and he was leaning towards a specialist English role, not Gym.

So Steve joined the campus gym instead of a sporting team, did weights and classes and enjoyed it immensely. It was where he met Natasha, and that fateful meeting brought him to Bucky and his dickish jock ways and friends.

Though if Steve was to be fair (of which he was - usually) not all jocks were dicks, even if Steve had preconceived notions from high school what college boys would be like. He'd been pleasantly surprised to find that the captain of the football team was not only gorgeous, cocky and a bit of a douche, but also very smart, kind and had a smile that could make Steve’s legs turn to jelly with only a small half tilt.

But it was as he sat on a towel under the shade of a large umbrella that Carol had stolen from her parent’s garden shed, that Steve really felt the heat, and it had nothing to do with the blazing sun above him and the burning sand beneath his feet.

It was all Bucky Barnes and his chest, his slim waist, his tanned olive skin, the breadth of his shoulders, the thickness of his sinewed and muscled thighs that tapered down to calves that bunched up as he jumped and landed to grab the frisbee aimed at him.

Steve sighed heavily as his gaze lingered on the brunette. Bucky Barnes was every mans wet dream, every girls perfect prince, and Steve pulled his dark sunnies over his eyes again, ignoring the pounding in his chest, the throbbing in his groin as he watched Bucky behind dark lenses spring up and prance over the sand, laughing with a wide mouth that could do sinful things to Steve’s body. The worst part was that Bucky was doing all of this with no knowledge that Steve harboured the biggest crush of his life.

It really was unfair.

Sitting back to lean on his hands, stretching his legs out, he saw Bucky glance over at him, and gave a smile. Bucky grinned back and then grappled Sam to the sand to yank the frisbee from his grip. Life wasn’t unfair because Bucky didn’t date guys, he did, very much so, and girls too from what Steve had seen, it was just the guys Bucky dated were typically more like… jocks.

Steve hunched over, trying to not stare too long and inadvertently get turned on, finding it an impossibility as his eyes wouldn’t tear away from Bucky’s frame as he bounded effortlessly over the soft sand, something Steve couldn’t do. He’d almost lost a lung from the trek over to their secluded spot earlier that day. Soft sand was the enemy - that was fact.

“Heads up.”

Startled from his thoughts by Bucky’s deep voice urgently calling out his way, Steve looked up only to see the frisbee coming straight for him. With a reaction that even surprised himself, Steve raised his hand and caught the flying disc with nary a blink of an eye.

Bucky was skidding to a halt on his knees before him a second later.

“Shit, Steve. That was epic, you sure you don’t want to play? You can be on my team - my secret frisbee weapon.”

Steve’s mouth went dry as he tried to listen to the words leaving Bucky, because the delectable man was less than two feet away and the smell of sunscreen, sweat and something virile and uniquely Bucky entered his senses. Steve knew that if sitting next to Bucky in the dining hall was torture when Bucky was wearing his spicy cologne, he’d keel over being enveloped in his sweaty beach scent for longer than a minute. 

God he wanted Bucky to fill him, everywhere. Make him forget his name, take him over and over.

He realised that he still hadn’t answered and heat crept into his cheeks, managing to blurt out, “I’m good for now. Nat’s grabbing ice creams and I don’t want to get a stitch.”

Steve then gave Bucky what he hoped was a soft and cheeky winning grin, but the way Bucky faltered, swallowed tightly, face impassive made Steve wonder if he’d missed the mark on trying to be flirty.

He really was as hopeless as Darcy continually told him.

Steve’s eyes trailed down to Bucky’s broad and lightly haired chest, finding himself breathing quicker, wondering if he’d remembered to pack his inhaler. No, he was sure it was in the pocket of his backpack. Thank god, he might need it in the face of Bucky’s glorious muscles moving in his vision all day.

“If you’re sure,” Bucky finally said in a deep steady voice.

“Maybe later,” Steve stammered, holding up the frisbee with a shaky hand. He had to get a grip.

“Alright, later then, I’m holding you to that.” And Bucky took the disc from Steve’s grip and was off bounding towards Sam, Carol, Thor and Maria.

While Steve recalibrated his thoughts, Nat came back holding only one ice cream cone, licking it slowly with a sparkle in her eye as Clint trailed behind, wearing Nat’s beach bag and carrying the rest of the ice creams, and Steve worried she’d overestimated his balancing skills. But if Nat asked, Clint would do - it was kind of amazing the power she had over him without even trying. Although they weren’t dating (yet), Nat was never cruel, she was playing the long game and really liked Clint, but had been hurt before by some Russian asshole, and Steve knew that Clint, when Nat finally agreed to go out with him would never be the same man again. He’d be lost in deep shock and joy. They were perfect for each other.

A pang went through his gut as Steve watched them, taking a cone from Clint, wishing he had someone that wanted him as much as they wanted each other.

“Vanilla,” Nat commented with a scrunch of her nose at Steve’s choice as he took a lick of the creamy goodness, the chill on his tongue welcome under the heat of the day. “You’re so very basic, Rogers.”

“Hey there is nothing wrong with that. I happen to love vanilla.” A rich voice said from right in front of Steve as Bucky flopped down on the sand, kicking up little grains that stuck on Bucky’s thighs where he was sweating. Steve shut his eyes against the picture before him, once again pleading to any God or Goddess that would listen that it wasn’t fair, that they had to find him someone one day. He just hoped it would be soon, else his dick drop off from Bucky unwittingly giving him blue balls.

“You’re one to talk, you didn’t even want ice cream, just a soda. And a club soda at that.”

Bucky looked over to Nat, flashing her a wide grin, and Steve immediately started to lick his ice cream just to do anything but stare at the crinkling in the corners of Bucky’s eyes, or to watch his lips as they wrapped around the bottle tip. He only half listened to their banter as they kept teasing each other, Nat and Bucky having been best friends from childhood, the reason how Steve inadvertently fell into the group of jocks, for a lack of a better term to encompass all the fit people he was now surrounded with.

Nat had introduced him to everyone after they’d hit it off at the gym in first semester, and Steve had waited for the inevitable teasing to commence about his small stature, but it never came. He was always included, never mocked (unless it was called for, because he was a facts man and couldn’t help correcting people when they were clearly in the wrong) and it was such a novel experience, so how could he not fall immediately in lust with the football captain? One who had smokey blue-grey eyes, sinfully full lips made for kissing among other fun activities and a personality that you could fall into and live inside forever.

“Err, Steve… your ice cream, it’s ummm, dripping.”

“What?” Steve asked, realising that he’d been swirling his tongue over the top of the soft confectionary and that his fingers were now completely sticky as the ice cream dripped over them on to his thigh. “Oh shit.”

Steve immediately switched hands and started to lap at his fingers, tongue darting between them to catch all the creaminess, sucking them into his mouth one by one, only looking up when he heard a muted groan. Bucky was moving before him, squirming in the sand, and as his eyes landed on Bucky, he startled, surprised to find Bucky’s hooded gaze directly on Steve. But his eyes hadn’t landed just anywhere, they were trained to Steve’s mouth, and as Steve swiped his finger through the sweetness that had dribbled on his thigh, Bucky’s gaze followed that finger's movements. Steve without thought, heart thumping hard, confusion and awe flowing through his veins, stuck the digit in his mouth, licking off the stickiness. 

Thankfully, Steve had his sunglasses on, hiding his expression, but he knew his face was burning red at the brash and overt display. Bucky was watching him intently, the rise and fall of his gloriously thick chest heaved, and Bucky’s skin flushed from the exercise or maybe the sun. Steve wasn’t sure.

But it was as Steve licked around the base of the cone again, the ice cream melting quicker in the heat than he could swallow, Bucky’s pecs twitched.

Steve stopped all movement, caught at the tick of flesh, the way it bounced taut, watching with abject lust and desire as Bucky did it again - knowing exactly where Steve’s eyes were trained.

It was such a fucking dick move, a power move to get attention and Steve hated jocks who flexed like that, but on Bucky… on Bucky it was god damn mesmerizing. And it was after the third time Bucky’s pecs jumped, Bucky stood up abruptly and fled saying in a higher pitch than usual that he was jumping in the water, that Steve realised he might not have been doing it on purpose.

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

Bucky was dead, he was going to die from being hard for... how long had he known Steve Rogers, six months maybe? Well, that was how long he’d survived with a non-stop boner for the blonde man. And he was at the end of his tether.

Steve was everything Bucky ever wanted in a partner, smart, strong, intense, funny, handsome  and a person that he could fall into, spend time with - love.

So it didn't help his little issue to be at the beach that day, watching Steve sit under the huge umbrella on brightly coloured towels in his swim trunks and a loose tank with arm holes so big he could see all the way through to his muscular chest and pink nipples. It was driving him fucking insane. 

Sure he’d seen Steve wearing an array of items at the gym, but he’d never witnessed him so carefree as he was at the beach. He was smiling more, relaxed, joking while big sunglasses hid those gorgeous eyes that would give the ocean a run for its money as to what was bluer.

But what killed Bucky that particular day over every other day he lusted after Steve, what made him clench and twitch all over was watching Steve lick up his ice cream. It was downright obscene, Steve shouldn’t be allowed to do that in public, or at least he should have a warning sticker on his person.

Steve had a mouth made for sucking cock, and Bucky wanted, no, he needed to know what having those lips wrapped around him felt like. Christ, he wanted to know what it felt like to be buried in Steve, maybe even have Steve press into him. Fuck.

There was only one thing for it.

He had to seduce Steve, and he had to do it soon.

But that begged the question - how?

How did Bucky capture the attention of the smartest, funniest, quick witted and grumpiest man on campus? Not only that, but to have Steve take him seriously? Bucky was aware that people thought he was only a dumb jock, that all he had to offer the world was to play ball and shit talk other teams and work out in the gym. Which, yeah of course he did all of those things - but he really was so much more. He was studying economics, was thinking about trying to specialise and work as an international trade specialist after college, and although Bucky really loved playing ball - it wasn’t his whole life. He’d never go pro - well, not without a hell of a lot of luck and persistence, and he wasn't sure he really wanted to take something he enjoyed and make it a living in that way. He’d seen how broken some sports stars bodies were after a career, and he still wanted to be able to walk at forty without having had three knee reconstructions.

But Steve, Steve saw through all of that, he spoke to Bucky like an intellect, like he had something worthy to say, to add to the conversation. Even at the gym after Nat had introduced them (Bucky begging to know who the gorgeous guy she was chatting to on the rowing machines was) Steve and he worked out together, had fun catcalling each other for being weak and helped each other with their forms - something Bucky largely did just to get hands on Steve even though Steve’s form was perfect.

Bucky had been taken with the slight man from the first moment he’d seen him, always under the impression that Steve was too smart to even think about dating a meathead like him, even if he truly wasn't what his physique made him. So he stuck with friendship, but now he wanted more. Was going to ask for more.

“Whatcha thinking?” Nat asked as she swam out to float in the water next to him.

“Nothing much,” He replied, ignoring her knowing hum. He hated that they’d been friends forever and she knew all his tells.

The much needed cold water had soothed his itching skin, and from his vantage point he could look back at their rag tag group of friends, able to stare unabashadly at Steve as he laughed with Clint and Thor about something, staring up at Thor as he... as he fucking flexed in front of Steve.

“Easy boy,” Natasha grabbed his bicep that was taut from clenching his fists, “Thor’s with Jane remember? Steve’s not interested in someone like Thor anyway.”

Bucky’s eyes swung to her immediately. “What do you mean? Because he's a jock?”

Nat let out an exasperated sigh. “No you idiot. Because he’s interest lies elsewhere.”

“Oh,” Bucky’s chest squeezed tight, wondering who had Steve’s undivided attention. And he couldn’t help but watch Steve as Carol held out a hand to pull him to his feet, and suddenly Bucky forgot his disappointment when Steve pulled his tank off, revealing a gorgeous toned body in all its glory. Bucky’s dick stirred. Thank fuck he was hidden in the water.

“You are a colossal idiot. You know that right?” Nat deadpanned.

“I have to ask Steve out,” he blurted. “I need to… I need to be with him.”

“I know,” Nat said with a smirk, and Bucky looked at her gratefully, if she helped he would be fine. “But that really sounds like a you problem. Have fun with that.”

“You horrible cow,” Bucky sniped back, ready to splash her, but she was already under the water stealthily swimming up behind Clint, only to dunk the unsuspecting man. 

Bucky’s attention suddenly caught on movement on the shoreline as Steve stood knee deep, testing the water and with no further hesitation, dove in, coming up for air not far from where Bucky floated. Bucky watched mesmerized as the sun glinted off Steve’s wet eyelashes, before he wiped the droplets from them, smiling at Bucky.

“Oh god, this water feels amazing.”

“So would you,” Bucky whispered.

“Huh?” Steve asked.

For a long moment, Bucky stared at Steve, realising that sound carried over water differently and Steve most likely caught what he said. Seducing someone was hard, even though he hadn’t even tried yet.

Instead of answering, Bucky ducked his head so his mouth went underwater and swam towards Steve like a shark, deciding that he just had to ask him point blank, no messing around with seduction. Slipping up out of the water at the last moment he put on his most predatory smile, Steve’s eyes widening and he looked around, face flushed and Bucky hoped he wasn’t looking for an escape.

He quickly darted behind Steve, wrapping his arms tight around his lithe body, trying not to linger too much as Steve was the perfect fit, felt so good against him; and when he heard the small gasp from Steve’s throat he launched him into the air. Flinging Steve into the water a few feet away.

“You fucker,” Steve exclaimed laughing as he came up for air, and Bucky smirked.

Suddenly with a smirk of his own that made Bucky inhale sharply, Steve disappeared under the water, Bucky feeling him come up underneath his body and with a strength that belied Steve’s small stature, completely turning Bucky on more than it should, he was pushed up out of the water, throwing him completely under as well.

“Jesus, Steve. You should join the team.” Bucky spluttered when he came up for air.

Steve grinned back, pushing wet hair out of his eyes and Bucky stared, lost in how stunning Steve looked in the sunlight, that he was there before him alone in the ocean full of people, “I mean they already have you and Sam as Captains. Wouldn’t want to put either of you out of a job.”

Bucky laughed, “I don’t doubt you’d do it too, Stevie.”

And when Steve stopped smiling, Bucky realised what he’d said.

“Shit, sorry - you don’t like that? Nicknames?”

“No I... I do…” Steve answered softly, and Bucky became lost in a blue that matched the water they were treading.

“Would you get out with me?” Bucky blurted.

“Sorry? Get out of the water?”

Bucky internally facepalmed himself. “No, I mean go out.”

“Out. With you?”

Bucky nodded.

“Err, why me?” Steve asked in a small voice lost on a gust of wind.

Looking at Steve, who stared back at him with questions in his eyes, Bucky wanted to explain how much he’d desired it for months, to tell Steve all the ways he wanted to make him happy, and as a multitude of words sat on his tongue, Bucky suddenly understood Steve might not listen to his reasoning, might not believe him. So he decided to show his intent instead, and swam closer. Steve’s eyes were wide, guileless, Bucky seeing a small spark of something more, and hoping he wasn’t triple jumping over a line, he swam up behind Steve. He felt Steve tense up, anticipating to be flung into the water again, but instead, Bucky pulled him closer so that Steve’s back slotted against his front and leaned in, mouth only an inch away from Steve’s ear.

“Why you? Oh Stevie, you have no idea how gorgeous you are. How much I want you.” Bucky pressed his nose against the back of Steve’s ear and inhaled deeply, sunscreen, salt and Steve’s shampoo filled his senses and he lost his head for a moment, especially when Steve let out a high pitched groan and wriggled back into Bucky. “I want to spread you out beneath me, I want to lick all the sweat off your body, sweat that I'm going to cause from working you hard, making you work extra hard for my dick, because Stevie - I want you, I want you bad, and I think you might want me back just as much.”

Bucky hoped he wasn’t completely off base with his desires, that Steve really was just as interested, and when Steve ground back against him, skin sliding against Bucky’s, letting out another moan at the friction when he felt Bucky hardening up underneath him, Bucky knew it was going to be ok.

“Yes…” Steve whimpered as his shorts caught against Bucky’s dick, pushing backwards.

“You want that baby?”

“Fuck. Yes, I do.”

“How much?”

Steve spluttered, and Bucky couldn’t help chuckle at the noise. “What do you mean?”

“How much do you want it?” Bucky knew he was being a prick, making his pec’s tense against Steve’s back, pulling him onto his lap as they floated in the water, before wrapping a leg around one of Steve’s pulling it to the side, making Steve gasp gorgeously.

“A normal amount,” Steve husked back.

“Oh, you want me a normal amount - is that all?” Bucky smirked before licking a sloppy stripe up Steve’s neck at the same time as he snuck a hand down the front of Steve’s swim trunks, gripping his dick tightly, feeling the impressive length and girth for the first time. Fuck, he was definietly not taking switching of the table. But not anytime soon. First, he wanted to take Steve apart in every way conceivable.

Steve meanwhile, was liquid in his arms, going slack as Bucky took his time to explore while they floated in circles not far from the shore, but far enough out they wouldn’t get in trouble. He hoped. 

The moans tearing from Steve’s throat were getting louder though, Bucky loving every noise punched out of Steve as he stroked harder under the water, the friction and pressure of the water making him slower and more languid than usual. And Bucky wanted to make Steve call out with no thought or boundaries, nothing to stifle his pleasure, he needed Steve coming in his arms, again and again.

“I think you might just want me a little more than that.” Bucky rasped against Steve’s neck, sucking a bruise onto his pink skin, giving Steve’s dick another sharp tug and before he knew what was happening, Steve was shaking in his arms, whimpering out a release and Bucky was speechless. Utterly speechless as he continued to stroke Steve slowly, carefully as he jerked in his hand.

“Holy fuck, you’re stunning, gorgeous, the absolute best,” Bucky rambled into Steve’s neck, nipping kisses and pressing his lips against him in absolute awe at what had just occured.

Suddenly Steve moved, spinning himself around to straddle Bucky and he went under for a moment as their weights shifted and came back up spluttering, only for Steve to launch himself so his lips pushed against his. Steve took over, devouring his mouth, and although Bucky was the one in control, holding them both up, he’d never felt so out of control as Steve writhed and ground down as best he could in the water. Shit, Steve was going to be a handful and Bucky was there for it.

As he kissed back, grabbing the back of Steve’s head, holding him still as he pressed his tongue in deeply, a huge beach ball smacked into the side of his face. They jumped apart with a gasp.

“Don’t make me go get the hose!” Nat yelled out as she and Clint swam around nearby. “It’s about time you dolts wised up, but this is a public beach with you know - families.”

Bucky watched as Steve’s face flushed a perfect shade of red, and he couldn’t help but grab him again, giving him a quick intense kiss, claiming Steve until he struggled for breath, to show Bucky’s intent was clear and true. It was pure perfection.

“We’ll pick this up again later.” Bucky promised.

“Later.” Steve replied breathlessly.

Suddenly Steve pushed himself away from Bucky, grabbing and throwing the beach ball, hitting Clint dead on the nose. The surprised yelp from both Clint and Natasha made Bucky laugh.

“Oh it’s so on, James,” Nat yelled out.

Steve piped up from his side, “you wish, Romanoff - we’re gonna take you down!”

Bucky beamed.

“Yeah!” he called over to them, dodging the ball that came directly for him as Nat and Clint shit-talked. And as he and Steve swam out to retrieve the ball floating behind them, Bucky turned to Steve and gave him an overtly salacious wink. “And once we take them down, I’m going to take you home and show you what going down is all about.”

Steve burst out laughing. “Really? That was incredibly lame, especially for a savvy sex-crazed jock.”

“You’re not interested in my proposal then?”

“Oh I’m interested,” Steve grinned, licking his lips and Bucky caught his breath. “But if you’re going to use dad jokes on the regular - I might have to start calling you something else in the bedroom.”

Steve then threw the ball, Nat ducking at the last minute, and Bucky didn’t even feel when the returning pitch slammed into his head; Steve’s words creating a delicious cacophony of images and filthy thoughts in his mind instead.

Bucky had always known that Stevie Rogers was going to be both the life and death of him, and as he rubbed his head, grasping the ball in one hand, ready to throw it, he couldn’t wait to see where their adventure would take them.

But first - Clint had to pay.

[noneedtofearorhope]

sorry to once more come to the defense of golf, but as i’ve said, no one who makes calls to turn golf courses into something ‘more productive’ ever seems to have similar sentiments with regards to public parks. there are never calls to turn public parks into public housing or gardens. we like public parks, they’re nice, they improve our general surroundings, one of the few free places for us to gather and recreate.

and idk if its related in a ‘dont mention it and we wont have to think about the contradictions of what we’re proposing’ kinda way, but i also don’t see people call for golf courses to be turned into public parks. like say you just hated the sport of golf i guess, no one seems to want to turn them into places to play disc golf or frisbee or dog parks. people might want to keep the trees, but they want all the grass fields to be turned into something ‘productive’. which is like, a problem people have recognized with the green/environmental movement, is that people are always focusing on trees and forests. we need fields and meadows and grasses too. both ecologically and for human recreation.

and like, manicured lawns are pleasant, it’s not like they were just some random thing picked by some evil god named The Joneses to be forced upon us all. they feel good to lay down in, to put a blanket down and have a picnic on, to play soccer on, to roll down a hill on. we’re always spreading those kinda of meme-y statistics about how like, for every houseless person there are two empty houses or w/e. so why turn golf courses into public housing? keep the golf course, make it free and accessible (w/for instance equipment libraries), and just kill all landlords and squat the world.