#and some changes in the crafting barn too

[victorluvsalice]

-->With the fair done, it was time to send everyone back home – especially since poor Victor was exhausted. I had Victor put all his ingredients and produce and stuff in the fridge (thank you Brazen Lotus’s Core Mod “put away” option :D), then had everyone play with the three cats, since they were all outside standing in roughly the same area, and Victor needed to renew his friendship with Surprise anyway. Once the cats were sufficiently entertained and sufficiently happy with their owners, Victor headed up to bed (new ribbons up on the wall), while Smiler got back on making mechanisms and Alice made a RAW bracelet out of obantium and citrine for a fun white-and-orange bracelet. And Gemology level 3, nice.

And THAT is where I left it! Whew – yeah, lot going on today! You can see why it took me so long. But hey, it was a pretty fulfilling day, and we have a new basement space to furnish and turn into something nice for the trio. :) NEXT time, though, I am DEFINITELY gonna try and actually get them in the store. They gotta empty out that shop at some point!

[reasonsforhope]

Legit though, we should start turning ecosystem restoration and work to make our world more tolerant to the effects of climate change into annual holidays and festivals

Like how just about every culture used to have festivals to celebrate the beginning of the harvest or its end, or the beginning of planting, or how whole communities used to host barn raisings and quilting bees - everyone coming together at once to turn the work of months or years into the work of a few days

Humble suggestions for festival types:

Goat festival

Besides controlled burns (which you can't do if there's too much dead brush), the fastest, most effective, and most cost-efficient way to clear brush before fire season - esp really heavy dead brush - is to just. Put a bunch of goats on your land for a few days!

Remember that Shark Tank competitor who wanted to start a goat rental company, and everyone was like wtf? There was even a whole John Oliver bit making fun of the idea? Well THAT JUST PROVES THEY'RE FROM NICE WET PLACES, because goat rental companies are totally a thing, and they're great.

So like. Why don't we have a weekend where everyone with goats just takes those goats to the nearest land that needs a ton of clearing? Public officials could put up maps of where on public lands grazing is needed, and where it definitely shouldn't happen. Farmers and people/groups with a lot of acres that need clearing can post Goat Requests.

Little kids can make goat-themed crafts and give the goats lots of pets or treats at the end of the day for doing such a good job. Volunteers can help wrangle things so goats don't get where they're not supposed to (and everyone fences off land nowadays anyway, mostly). And the goats, of course, would be in fucking banquet paradise.

Planting Festival and Harvest Festival

Why mess with success??? Bring these back where they've disappeared!!! Time to swarm the community gardens and help everyone near you with a farm make sure that all of their seeds are sown and none of the food goes to waste in the fields, decaying and unpicked.

And then set up distribution parts of the festival so all the extra food gets where it needs to be! Boxes of free lemons in front of your house because you have 80 goddamned lemons are great, but you know what else would be great? An organized effort to take that shit to food pantries (which SUPER rarely get fresh produce, because they can't hold anything perishable for long at all) and community/farmer's markets

Rain Capture Festival

The "water year" - how we track annual rainfall and precipitation - is offset from the regular calendar year because, like, that's just when water cycles through the ecosystems (e.g. meltwater). At least in the US, the water year is October 1st through September 30th of the next year, because October 1st is around when all the snowmelt from last year is gone, and a new cycle is starting as rain begins to fall again in earnest.

So why don't we all have a big barn raising equivalent every September to build rain capture infrastructure?

Team up with some neighbors to turn one of those little grass strips on the sidewalk into a rain-garden with fall-planting plants. Go down to your local church and help them install some gutters and rain barrels. Help deculvert rivers so they run through the dirt again, and make sure all the storm drains in your neighborhood are nice and clear.

Even better, all of this - ESPECIALLY the rain gardens - will also help a ton with flood control!

I'm so serious about how cool this could be, yall.

And people who can't or don't want to do physical stuff for any of these festivals could volunteer to watch children or cook food for the festival or whatever else might need to be done!

Parties afterward to celebrate all the good work done! Community building and direct local improvements to help protect ourselves from climate change!

The possibilities are literally endless, so not to sound like an influencer or some shit, but please DO comment or reply or put it in the notes if you have thoughts, esp on other things we could hold festivals like this for.

Canning festivals. "Dig your elderly neighbors out of the snow" festivals. Endangered species nesting count festival. Plant fruit trees on public land and parks festival. All of the things that I don't know anywhere near enough to think of. Especially in more niche or extreme ecosystems, there are so many possibilities that could do a lot of good

[cherry-cola-on-ice]

Can you write a story that has Thomas Hewitt getting jealous at a guy flirting with his S/O please love your work🙏🙏🙏🙏

Jealousy Jealousy

It shouldn't bug him so much. Especially after all this time.

It wasn't your fault after all. Anyone with eyes could see how beautiful you were. Everything about you was crafted by some higher being, sculpted from the stars and the skies. And you were so sweet, so kind. You brought a smile to even Uncle Monty's face.

And most of all, he knew you loved him. He repeatedly told himself, saying it over and over again in his head like his own personal mantra. As long as you loved him, he didn't need anything else.

Thomas's eyebrows furrowed as you laughed at the joke. He couldn't tell you jokes. But this stranger could. This handsome, younger man with perfect teeth and perfect hair. He looked like one of those men on the front of the harlequin novels Hoyt steals out of suitcases.

You laughed again, head thrown back. God, you were perfect. Too perfect for him. This stranger was the type of man you deserved.

From the back room of the gas station, Thomas shifted his weight nervously. He knew he should have left you at the house. It was a bad idea, just like Hoyt said. You brought to much attention to yourself. Unknowingly and unwittingly, of course. Never your intention.

But you had a magnetic power around you, drawing people in.

Your soft eyes were what made him fall in love with you. When his family first found you, hiding out in their barn, crying your eyes out, he felt a pang in his heart that was new to him. You looked scared and you were alone. Everyone else had left you, all meeting their ends by his chainsaw.

He asked you why you didn't struggle and you always shrugged "I guess they were never really my friends to begin with. They tried to leave me for dead. "

And he didn't question it at first. After all, it all brought you to him. You were his now.

But-

You should hate him. You should fight him. You shouldn't be able to stand the sight of him. You were better off with this man, this stranger who could give you the life you deserved. The overwhelming feeling of despair hit him like a shot to the stomach.

But then you turned to him. And smiled. That sweet smile, the one that lit up a room and light up his life. And it was directed at him. It was his smile.

And for a moment, all was right in the world. You chose him.

But then-

"So, I gotta wonder... What's a sweet thing like you doing in a shit hole like this?"

From afar, Thomas could see you bristle, your demeanor change from jovial to defense "What's that supposed to mean? There's nothing wrong with here."

The stranger laughed "Yeah, it's cute in tetanus shot kinda way. But nowhere such a hot piece of ass such as you should be. "

Thomas ought to punt this creep straight into a grinder. His fist balled up and he began stalking towards him-

Except you beat him to the punch. Quite literally.

The stranger fell to the floor, holding his bloody nose. Whimpering. Thomas was surprised, he didn't think this guy would go down that easily. The man wasn't as tall as him, but he was still a sizable man. And you floored him.

Looking back to you, he watched as you shook your hand out, cursing under your breath "Fucking hell, dude! Your face made out of concrete?!?"

"YOU BROKE MY NOSE, YOU BITCH!"

"Yeah, and I'll do it again if you don't get your ass outta here!"

The man, holding his bleeding nose, lifted himself off the ground, shooting daggers at you. Instinctively, Thomas placed his body between the two of you, glaring back at him.

The stranger, though looking absolutely terrified, feigned confidence and scoffed as he walked by. You grabbed Thomas's arm, shouting as the stranger left the store "Yeah! Get out here, you-"

Thomas spun you around, grabbing your face in his hands. He looked you over, looking for any signs of harms. You scrunched your nose "I'm fine, Thomas!"

Thomas huffed, pulling you close to him. You laughed in his arms, standing up on your tip toes to press a kiss to his mask. Thomas looked down at you, taking in the lovestruck look in your eyes.

Yeah, he had nothing to worry about.

[herballwitch]

Altars For The Greek Gods

Hello, My name is Alva Tauri! I am an herbalist, spirit worker, tarot and oracle reader, and lunar and herbal witch dedicated to closing the education gap when it comes to herbalism and witch practices!

Today, I wanted to talk about ways in which I connect with the Gods and deities I worship in my life via my altar, as well as some of those Greek gods that I do not have a direct connection with to help those who are just starting!

NOTE: I did already say this above but I am going to say it again, I only work with (as far as Greek gods go) Hades, Apollo, and Dionysus. However, I have been working with spirits, Gods, and deities for nine years now, so the information found in this post will be a compilation of everything I have learned in those nine years from my own experiences and the experiences of friends. If you have any information you feel should be added to this post please feel free to message me!

With that being said, let's get into altar work with Greek gods...

ARES

Ares is the God of war and the spirit of battle and was typically associated with:

ANIMALS: eagle owl, barn owl, poisonous snakes, boar, vulture

COLORS: red and purple

CRYSTALS: bloodstone, garnet, red jasper, smokey quartz, black tourmaline, hematite, metals, obsidian, carnelian

OTHER ASSOCIATIONS (good for offerings): spicy things, chocolate, basil, cinnamon, weapons

ARTEMIS

Artemis was the goddess of chastity, hunting, and the moon. She is often associated with:

ANIMALS: deer, wolf, wild boar, hunting dogs

COLORS: white, blue, black, brown and green

CRYSTALS: morganite, moonstone, celestite, moss/tree agate, amethyst

OTHER ASSOCIATIONS (good for offerings): anything moon shaped, frankincense, cypress, mugwort, amaranth

APHRODITE

Aphrodite is the ancient Greek goddess of sexual love and beauty. She is typically associate with:

ANIMALS: swan, dove, sparrow

COLORS: red and pink for love/sexuality. white and blue, and gold.

CRYSTALS: rose quartz, pearl, opal, aquamarine, rhodonite, ocean jasper, moonstone

OTHER ASSOCIATIONS (good for offerings): roses, chocolate, shells, myrrh, gold

APOLLO

Apollo is the God of archery, music and dance, truth and prophecy, healing and diseases and, mostly commonly known as, the God of the Sun. He is commonly associated with:

ANIMALS: deer, hawk, crow/raven, cicada, swan, bees, wolf, fox

COLORS: yellow, white, red, orange. purple and green for the Oracle.

CRYSTALS: sunstone, amber, calcite (specifically honey and yellow), citrine, sapphire

OTHER ASSOCIATIONS (good for offerings): sun shaped anything, bay leaves, laurel, cypress, playing music (especially the lyre), poetry

ATHENA

Athena was the goddess of wisdom, war, and the crafts and is normally associated with:

ANIMALS: snakes and owls

COLORS: white, grey/silver, red

CRYSTALS: metals, celestite, fluorite, bloodstone, obsidian, iolite, azurite, and lapis lazuli

OTHER ASSOCIATIONS (good for offerings): anything to do with olives, snake shed, cedar, cypress, cinnamon, weapons

DEMETER

Demeter is the goddess of the harvest, grains, and agriculture. She is typically associated with:

ANIMALS: serpent, farm animals (especially pig), lizards, turtle-dove, crane, owl

COLORS: green, brown, yellow, and black

CRYSTALS: jade, tree/moss agate, carnelian, amber, aventurine, rutilated quartz, pyrope, and almandine

OTHER ASSOCIATIONS (good for offerings): oats and grain, anything baked, flowers, spices (like cinnamon or cloves, allspice is good too), leaves that have begun to change colors for fall, mint, poppy

DIONYSUS

Dionysus is the God of wine, pleasure, and festivity and he is typically associated with:

ANIMALS: panther/leopard, tiger, bull, serpent

COLORS: purple and green for association with grapes/wine, leopard/tiger print for his holy animals

CRYSTALS: amethyst is largely associated with Dionysus, as well as grape agate, garnet, and rose or rutilated quartz

OTHER ASSOCIATIONS (good for offerings): grapes (or any derivative), alcohol, cinnamon, ivy, pinecones, playing music, partying, sex/masturbation

HADES

Hades is the God of the underworld. However, Hades also rules over wealth and finances. He is typically associated with:

ANIMALS: naturally, dogs are frequently associated with Hades, as well as owls, sheep, and cattle

COLORS: black, red, and white are typically used in association with death. purple and metallics are used in association with riches/wealth

CRYSTALS: hematite, onyx, black crystals (like obsidian), jet

OTHER ASSOCIATIONS (good for offerings): narcissus, mint, asphodel, white poplar, pomegranate, coffee, cinnamon, elm, money, chocolate, keys, shells

HEPHAESTUS

Hephaestus is the Greek god of fire, volcanoes, blacksmithing, and metalworking. He is typically associated with:

ANIMALS: donkey, dog, crane

COLORS: red, orange, and yellow, metallics.

CRYSTALS: metals, fire opal, honey calcite, smoky quartz, black quartz, rock crystal, amethyst, chloritized quartz, and rutilated quartz

OTHER ASSOCIATIONS (good for offerings): spicy things, hot beverages, anything handmade (especially if made by you), dragon's blood incense, seashells, anything on fire

HERA

Hera is the goddess of women, marriage, and childbirth and is frequently associated with:

ANIMALS: peacock, cuckoo, cow

COLORS: red, pink and white for association with love and marriage. gold because she's the Queen of the Gods.

CRYSTALS: pearls, diamonds, topaz, opal, moonstone, malachite, tourmalinated quartz

OTHER ASSOCIATIONS: iris, rose, patchouli, coconut, cypress, maple, peacock feathers, pomegranate

HERMES

Hermes is the messenger of the gods and the mediator between the realm of the dead and the kingdom of the living. He is commonly associated with:

ANIMALS: tortoise, ram, goat, hawk, pig

COLORS: green, red, gold, white and brown

CRYSTALS: theres actually not a lot of evidance that crystals and stones were used in the past for altar work for Hermes. however citrine, alexandrite, and tigers eye are used frequently today

OTHER ASSOCIATIONS (good for offerings): money, crocus/saffron, strawberries

HESTIA

Hestia is the goddess of the hearth, home, and hospitality. She is normally associated with:

ANIMALS: donkey, pig, crane, cow

COLORS: red, orange, and yellow, brown or white

CRYSTALS: amber, jade, red garnet, ruby, sunstone, amethyst, honey calcite

OTHER ASSOCIATIONS (good for offerings): tea/coffee (drink with her), pine, bread, cider, apples, anything on fire, cinnamon, anything that feels like home to you

PERSEPHONE

Persephone is the goddess of the dead and queen of the underworld in ancient Greek religion and myth and is typically associated with:

ANIMALS: deer and ram

COLORS: purple, pink, yellow, green - any spring colors. (Hades colors can be used as well)

CRYSTALS: the garnet is the most commonly associated with Persephone, but amethyst, moss/tree agate, milk quartz, and jade can also be used

OTHER ASSOCIATIONS (good for offerings): pomegranate, flowers, grains, lavender, rosemary, Spring

POSEIDEN

Poseidon is the god of the sea, earthquakes, horses, and water. He is typically associated with:

ANIMALS: horse, bull, dolphin, hippocampus

COLORS: blue and white, gray, brown and green

CRYSTALS: coral, opal (especially water opal), blue calcite, aquamarine

OTHER ASSOCIATIONS (good for offerings): coffee, mint, ocean water, salt, seashells

ZEUS

Zeus is the god of the sky and is considered the ruler, protector, and father of all gods and humans. He is typically associated with:

ANIMALS: eagle, bull

COLORS: white, blue, gold, grey, yellow and black

CRYSTALS: opals are said to have come from Zeus' tears of joy after defeating the Titans, so they are heavily linked to Zeus. diamonds, gold, turquoise, lapis lazuli, celestite, iron/steel, any quartz

OTHER ASSOCIATIONS (good for offerings): rain water, oak, olives/olive branches/olive leaves, vervain. images of himself or anything with lightning bolts or shaped like a lighting bolt

That's all for altar connections with Greek Gods! I hope that you found this helpful in your spiritual journey and I hope that you are able to apply this information to your practice.

if you have any questions regarding anything discussed here or anything you feel that I have missed, please send an ask to my ask box! I appreciate all comments and questions!

For more information on my practice, witchcraft, herbalism, spirit work, and divination please check out the guide on my page (linked here)! Everything I have ever posted can be found there!

I wish you all a blessed day filled with peace, endless wealth, and eternal health! Until the next time we meet!

[anika-ann]

made-up fic title: ever so softly

Hello dear 🥰 Thank you so much for participating in the game 😍

Since my brain does refuse to acknolwdge the concept so far, you too get a little drabble-ish thing 🥹 This time only with 600 words, Bucky, and a flavour of angst with hurt/comfort 😇

ever so softly

warnings: mentions of blood and violence, anxiety, sensory issues and hypersensitivity and PTSD A/N: divider by @firefly-graphics

Sometimes, your hands shake.

You’ve got a tender heart, people would say; a codename for those who get overwhelmed with the world, with people, with the noise and smells and strange textures and tastes, with emotions; with anxiety.

Your own body, your own damn brain was often your worst enemy. You were your worst enemy and you hated it with passion, especially on days when you somehow had no energy left but for that and spiralling down the void of terror made of your own synapses.

On days like these, like on every other, Bucky holds you, whispering soft words of solace and encouragement into your hair, tender lips and gentle voice, creating a protective bubble of silence and peace, tucked safe and far away from the world.

On days like these, he embraces you closely – unless you cannot bear his love for the moment, despising yourself for it all the more – and helps you put together the pieces of your tender soul you feel have imploded inside of you and suffocate you with every attempt of breath.

He sooths you and promises – begs, in truth – to keep you. Loving you,

ever so softly,

reminding you that you can choose and do the same and until you do, he will. For both of you.

And on some days, you do too.

Sometimes, Bucky’s hands shake.

It is a funny little glitch, he supposes, once he has the capacity to be sardonic with himself, which is always; his metal hand, science perfected, precious chunk of vibranium crafted to faultless functionality on engineerism, and it trembles as much as his flesh hand.

Bucky Barnes is an old man; a reborn man, haunted by an army of ghosts and undead. Doctors in his old days called it shellshock; the fancy modern name for it is PTSD.

Some days, images of blood, violence and death run on the silver screen of his mind like the most messed-up horror flick, following him through day and seeping into his nights, sleepless; or worst, consumed by nightmares than never end, because they are memories of his own actions.

His soul weighs too much to bear, drenched with blood and guilt that no penance can wash away.

Sometimes, you help with the cleanse despite it.

You take his shaking hands – sometimes his very own, sometimes the glorified invention attached to his body – and lead him to the living room where on the shelves stand his little treasures; one supposedly beautiful thing next to another, small wooden statues he had carved himself, rough around the edges but otherwise delicate, a reflection of his gentle torn soul. You do not speak a word, you do no point, letting him see what you see. To make him see that what he only perceives as a pair of hands soaked in blood and wrongdoings, had made good and beautiful too.

And even in the dead of night, you walk him to the most special room of the house, of your home, his steps hesitant, but his heart too weak to resist. Helpless and already yearning, he can never say no.

In those no longer trembling hands, you gently place the most precious thing he has had a generous hand in creating, with utmost love.

Tears burning in his eyes, he cradles your baby, his baby, to his chest with one arm, his other curling around you, pressing you to his side, lips attached to your temple. You linger in your embrace until his tears of grief and guilt turn into ones of acceptance and happiness.

Because he loves and he is loved,

ever so softly

and every beat of his heart, your heart and his child’s, promise him that despite all the pain, everything will be okay.

I hope you enjoyed the little angst but with a sweet note in the end for a change🥰

Thank you for reading and @murdock-and-the-sea for sending 💕

[rookthorne]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑯𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 𝑯𝑨𝑳𝑳𝑶𝑾𝑬𝑬𝑵

》 𝐀 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

It had come time for the final chase. Halloween had loomed in the back of your mind, until the night finally came. The Soldat’s promise from your first encounter rang true as you prepared — a promise that terrified and excited you in equal measure.  Time would only tell, and you had to hope you were ready for the final hunt.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 》 Scare Actor!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 》 3.2k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 》 Fluff, consensual stalking, primal, knife play, implied spice, use of a mask in an unorthodox situation, possessive behaviour

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 》 The conclusion to my first published multi-chapter fic and it has been some of the most fun I have ever had. 》 Thank you all so much for the love and interaction. 》 Happy Halloween, my chaos kittens!

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒂 》 @smutconnoisseur

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 》 @rookthorne's Fright Night — Masterlist

》 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎

》 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑯𝒖𝒏𝒕 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

Halloween night loomed, rushing closer and closer as you worked feverishly. The hours flew by faster than you could catch them, and you were growing desperate to gain a semblance of control over the chaos that was your costume. 

The moniker of kitten had inspired the last minute changes to your outfit – soft, fluffy, white ears sat on a headband, while the rest of your outfit followed the theme, too. 

By some miracle, you had found gloves that resembled white paws, and white boots that shone under the light of your bedroom. It was a comfortable fit – easy to move in, which would serve you well, and you had a very strong feeling that Bucky would love it. 

Since he had dropped you home that morning, you had texted one another non-stop to the point he had to put his foot down and tell you to switch off your phone to sleep. You had cursed him out with numerous, foul emojis, and said goodnight. He had laughed and wished you sweet dreams. 

Later that morning, when you finally awoke, you found he had texted as he prepared for that night’s celebrations. There were photos of his costume, stripped and cleaned, hung up on a coat hanger to dry with the caption attached: battle ready, it’s going to be insane tonight. I can’t wait to hunt you down.

The words had made the butterflies in your stomach roar and pitch such a fit you had to sit on the edge of your bed to get your bearings back. Texts followed on from that promising threat, and he said that he would not be wearing kohl that night, but he would be carrying more prop weapons – his favourites, as he so giddily stated. 

It was an odd situation to sit back and think about. With such a fast connection, unlike any you had developed before, you had grown to crave his presence and his touch. Bucky was a man that had his head on straight, prioritising respect and kindness – a feat most couldn’t even be bothered to achieve. 

With that thought, and realisation, a strange, foreign feeling settled in your stomach – the butterflies that fluttered there seemingly becoming lighter, as though they would take flight and carry you with them. 

Nightfall arrived quickly once you had finally sorted and dressed in your costume, and the moon was high in the sky as you journeyed to your haven.

The sheer amount of people that crowded the entrance of the park was astonishing. Every single visitor, of all ages, were dressed head to toe in costumes that ranged from expert to home crafted. Colours, props, and contrasts made few stand out amongst them. 

An hour prior to your arrival, you received a text from Bucky – he was on shift and he was now in costume. Since his suit had no viable pocket for his phone, that meant that he would also be unreachable from that point on. With that announcement, he had also doubled down on the threats of being hunted from the moment you would step foot in the park. 

If you were honest, you weren’t sure whether he was given help to find you via a comms device in his ear, or if he truly was that skilled in tracking and finding you in the crowd. 

Music blasted from the numerous speakers that lined the entryway and fogged billowed from machines as you neared the entry booth. It was almost unrecognisable from the first night of your visit, and compared to the night before, the decorations were even more intense. 

The park pyrotechnics lit up the fences and buildings in beat with the music, a song you recognised to be a tune similar to something resembling Rob Zombie – though it was hard to tell over all of the yelling and screaming from those already in the park. 

You watched as actors stalked up and down the lines, jostling visitors and riling up the try-hards, when a familiar face came into view. 

“Ah, there she is,” they said, and your eyes widened as they approached. If you weren’t mistaken, this was Bucky’s best friend, Steve – the man clad in black that you had bumped into the night before. “I was told a little lamb would make it back tonight. A certain Soldat has passed on the message that you were to…” He looked up and down the line, gesturing boredly. “Skip the crowds. C’mon, no point waiting out for your slaughter.”

Steve offered his hand, and you hesitated in taking it. “This isn’t a ploy to corner me, is it?”

He laughed, a deep rumble in his chest. You couldn’t help but stare at the blazing red insignia there. “No, no, I think I’d end up dead if I decided to target you myself. He’s a bit ruthless, not to mention territorial over what’s his.”

You blinked and looked at Steve, he only shrugged. “His?” you repeated, walking side by side with him. 

“Yeah,” Steve laughed. He led you between the booth lines and waved to the worker as he walked past. “It seems our Soldat has taken to the little lamb that ventured out of her depth. I can’t blame him, though,” he said, arching a brow as he looked at you from the corner of his eye. “You are sweet–feisty, too.”

“You flatter me,” you deadpanned, and Steve barked a laugh. “So, where is he?”

“Oh, he’ll find you, lamb. Run along–get a head start if you want to make it out alive tonight.” With that last threat, Steve turned and strode off, leaving you in the entryway of the park between the arches of the rides and food court. 

Pyrotechnics and fog plagued your vision – yellow and orange flames followed by glowing green and purple smoke that roiled and rolled at your feet. The lack of any markers like there had been the previous nights left you feeling disorientated; lost and scared for your fate at the hands of the one that hunted you. 

There was a crowd of people moving past you when the first scare of the night overtook you. A middle-aged man pointed up towards the top of a prop building. “He’s there, look!”

Your stomach swooped and your heart rammed against your ribs. The implication of him sent a harsh shiver up your spine, but you still looked to the sky, searching the top of the surrounding buildings. 

A blast of fire silhouetted a crouched man on the building furthest to your left. He was crouched on the edge, perched with a rifle in his hands; the scope was pointed straight at you. Time slowed as you stared, taking in the way the man’s hands flexed over the trigger before there was a shot, not unlike the sound of a cannon blasting off, and the ground at your feet was splattered with red. 

Tendrils of it landed over your shoes and pants, splattering over your white costume and marking it for all to see. You yelled in shock as you rapidly stepped back, treading on the shoes of passersby in an attempt to get away from the scene. 

“Sorry, sorry! Shit-” you hissed, stopping only once you reached a few paces from the splattered red. The state of your costume was alarming – it was as though you had been an extra on the set of Carrie. 

Instinctively, you looked up at the prop building to find that man standing tall on the edge. The gun was pointed down towards his feet, and the strap was over his chest. You watched as Soldat tilted his head, long hair swaying to the side with the movement, and he pointed directly at your chest, then your feet.

The message was clear. You had been marked – marked for the hunt, and he was after you. 

“Fuck.” 

People parted quickly as you rushed off, running in a random direction to get some semblance of a head start against him. Your feet pounded against the pavement in time with the beat of the music and it fuelled your adrenaline – a game of chase unlike any you’d experienced before. “Excuse me, move,” you shouted over the music, shoving the people who didn’t move in time. 

Actors called and whoop after you, the signature bloody mark over your clothes a sign they evidently knew well. 

“And there goes our little lamb,” Widow called as you dashed past. “Run, run! He’s after you!”

“Thanks!” you yelled over your shoulder, and you took a sharp turn towards the amenities. There was a small building to the side, it was shrouded in the dark and considering its distance from the main crowds, you wouldn’t be discovered. At least, not by a bystander – Soldat was another beast entirely. 

The stitch in your chest pulled you up short and you stumbled to the building, putting your back against it with a gasp for air. Muffled sounds echoed from the grounds; screams, music, and pleas to be left alone, but there was not a single sign that Soldat had followed. “Maybe I’m safe,” you mumbled, looking from left to right. No moving shadows, no shrouded figures…

You moved off the wall, stepping slowly and deliberately towards the lights of the overhead spotlights. The pad of your shoes squelched with the wet substance that coated them – of which you prayed was in fact, just paint – and you peered around the corner. No one was there, and you released a sigh of relief. 

“You really must learn to be better aware of your surroundings, kotenok.”

The scream tore from your throat before you could clamp your mouth shut, and you whipped around to find the source – Soldat was leaning against the opposite wall, foot propped up against it while he flipped a knife in his metal hand, ignorant of the glint of the blade as it flashed. “Bucky!”

Soldat tilted his head. “It is not that easy, little one. I promised that by the fall of this night, you would know just who you belonged to–as far as I can tell, you still do not seem to understand that you are in my world now, and at my mercy.”

“You son of a bitch,” you groaned, putting your hands on your hips. “That’s not fair.”

“Not fair?” He pushed off the wall. The graceful way he moved entranced you and you flinched as he stepped in front of you, head tilted the opposite way; grey irises shrouded with shadowed intent. “Oh, kotenok–if only you knew just what I plan on doing to you when I catch you in our little game. You would not be so petulant.”

“Game?” you blustered, staring back at him with indignation. “This is a game to you? Making me run for my life, this act all for fun?”

Soldat leaned in close, his breath hot over your lips again – if he had not been wearing the mask, you would have taken the chance to kiss him. “Run, kotenok, run.” 

The implicit danger of his words made a shudder of fear ripple down your spine. You turned and bolted, not caring as you passed by crowds that stared; pointedly ignoring the whoops of actors that watched your progress with sneers of amusement. 

Your legs ached with exhaustion but you didn’t dare stop for rest. There were shrieks and calls behind you, each of which sounded more exhilarated and fearful than the last: “It’s him! Look!” and “Soldat’s here!”

“You are not fast enough,” Soldat rasped behind you, his voice trailing all the way down to your last nerve. You shrieked and jumped, pushing your tired legs harder, the pounding of your feet on the pavement quickening. “If you concede, little kotenok,” he continued, this time from right next to you, “I will go easy on my prey. Just this once.”

“Bastard,” you huffed, and with all the strength you could muster, you pushed forward and darted between two food stands, forcing him to fall back. “Can’t catch me now!”

Your bravado soared when you glanced back over your shoulder to see he was no longer tailing you. The ache in your legs reached such a pitch that you stumbled to a choppy walk, limping as you panted for breath and frantically thinking of where to run next. 

“Fuck, fuck,” you huffed, and you sat down on an empty bench, careful to not have your back against the shrubbery, lest he surprise you again. “I can’t keep doing this.” 

For a second, you closed your eyes and breathed deeply, collecting your scrambled thoughts, when a hand covered your mouth and another cupped your throat. “You can, kotenok. And you will.”

You jumped and looked up. Soldat was looking down at you, eyes narrowed playfully. A cold, metal thumb brushed against the front of your throat, and to an onlooker, it would appear as though he was adjusting his grip. He bent down so his hair tickled your cheeks. “Are you alright, doll? Do you need to stop?”

The words were quiet, but assuring, especially while dressed in character. You shook your head and looked into his eyes. “I’m okay–promise, you’re just giving me a run for my money.”

He chuckled and stood up straight, the brightness of his eyes completely out of character. “Why don’t you walk with me?” He gestured around at the crowds, and he pulled out his knife to flip it. “I have been told I can make an appearance and stay out in the open tonight–keep the myth alive.”

“Why not,” you replied, getting to your feet with a groan. “I could do with just a walk.” 

“That is fair,” he hummed. “I must admit, our game of cat and mouse has grown to be such a rush. You make it far too easy for me, though.” You looked over at him and narrowed your eyes. He shrugged indifferently and walked ahead of you, still flipping the knife. “Stay with me, kotenok. You can watch these people lose it.”

“Okay,” you laughed, and you kept a steady pace, careful to stay behind Bucky – the distance allowed you an opportunity to stare at his ass while he walked, which led to the discovery that the tactical canvas pants of his costume clung to his thighs just as well as his jeans. “You have a nice butt.”

You heard a snort of laughter that was covered by a cough, and you watched him shake his head. “What? It’s true.” 

“Do not distract me,” he growled lowly – just audible over the pounding music. “Or you will pay for it.”

“That a threat or a promise?” you fired back, and you could have sworn you had flipped a switch in his mind by the tense line of his shoulders and sudden rigid posture. 

The look he fired you over his shoulder made your legs turn to jelly, and you vaguely filed away that tidbit of information away for later – much, much later. 

At a small distance, you followed Bucky as he walked through the crowds. There was one instance where, like you, a man must have signed the waiver to be handled by The Soldat, because Bucky pinned him against the wall and stared into the stranger’s eyes as he stared wide-eyed back. 

Music boomed to the right of you so you couldn’t make out the whimper or the words that escaped his lips, but Bucky pulled back off of the man to watch him slump down onto the floor. 

With his back turned and the stillness of his body, you took the chance to take in his costume. High on his back, between his shoulder blades, a gun was holstered with a magazine attached, while holsters on his thighs and hips were full to the brim with other props. The rifle he had used on you at the beginning of the night wasn’t strapped to his back, but you took note of the large knife strapped to his belt where the scope would have sat. 

The outfit did something to you, something that you couldn’t understand, and you filed that away for further thought at a later time – unable to think with the heat that settled low in your hips at his intimidating stature. “Stop it,” you muttered to yourself quietly, shaking your head once. “Get it together.”

Soldat turned towards you and you baulked at the glint in his eye – on an ordinary man, you would have described it as anger, or fury. On him, while in costume, it looked as though he had been possessed by the Devil himself. As he neared, he arched a brow in question, when you realised you were still staring. “Nothing, nothing,” you rushed, stepping back. 

“No. Move,” he ordered, gesturing for you to walk forward. 

Hesitantly, you stepped forward and started to walk, glancing over your shoulder at him. He continued to stare at you, then flicker his gaze to a passerby and flipping his knife. It sent a rush of power to your head to have someone as dangerous as him walk behind you – seemingly in a guarding disposition, but that went out the window when you felt a knife on your throat. 

“You did not think I would be that easy on you, little kotenok–hmm?” Soldat purred, his mask cold against your ear. Your breath hitched and you moved to pull away, but he snarled and grabbed your throat with his other hand. “Stay where I put you or you will regret it.”

“What-”

“Nyet. Quiet.” The crowds moved around you, staring transfixed as he manipulated you into standing against his chest, just like the first night. “I think my trophy deserves to be shown off. They need to know that you are mine.”

Fear pulsed through your body, confused with his words, you didn’t know what to expect, when cold, hard plastic covered your mouth. You furrowed your brow as he stepped back from you, then clipped something behind your head. “What–? Buck-”

Your hand moved to your mouth, and your eyes widened. A mask, identical to his own, covered the lower half of your face and it fit perfectly – not pinching or pulling at any point of contact or movement. “You gave me–?”

“My trophy,” he edged carefully, bringing the tip of his knife to your chin and tipping your head up. “Mine.”

The possessive behaviour made a thrill of arousal sing through your every nerve, and you gulped. “I do not think they would dare go after you now, my little kotenok. And, look at that,” he said, directing your face to the sky. The night had lightened and dawn had approached, much faster than you had anticipated. “The final night has now fallen, and you belong to me–just as you should.”

You blinked owlishly, the cogs of your mind freezing and clunking into place. “Is this you- Are you-” The words were muffled by the mask over your mouth, but the glint in his eyes were as knowing as ever – vulnerable and open. 

He stepped closer so he was in your space, his breath coming in slow, deep pulls. Ever so quietly and out of character, Bucky asked, “Be my girl, kitten?”

The world fell away, the music, the screams – all of it fell to the background and became non-existent. You had hoped, after the night before, with how fast you had developed a connection with Bucky over those milkshakes, that this would happen. It felt reckless and otherworldly, saying yes to such a proposition in the middle of a haunted attraction to a scare actor dressed in costume.

But what was a little rebellious adventure?

You looked into Bucky’s eyes – not The Soldat’s, and smiled. “Hell fucking yes.”

nyet = no

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

[questionableratatouille00]

ᴏᴜᴛꜱɪᴅᴇ

Pairing: Sambucky (Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes) 

Summary: Sam and Bucky swim together as Bucky recalls the past. 

Bingo Fill: ‘Cookout/Summer Camp/Stargazing/Hiking’ on my ‘Vacation’ card for @sambuckylibrary’s sambucky summer bingo!

Warnings: brief mention of something bad happening (non-specified), let me know if anything else should be tagged.

Bucky folded another table cloth, looking around and making sure there was no garbage on the ground.

Sam was doing the same at another table, and Bucky glanced at him every so often. 

It was the day after the party, and now they were just cleaning up anything that hadn’t been cleaned up the day before.

“After we finish this, you up for some swimming?” Sam called. “Shit, it’s hot out here.” 

Bucky hesitated for a moment, pausing. And then, he nodded. “Sounds good to me.” 

Sam also nodded, before going back to cleaning. Bucky couldn’t help but notice how his shorts hugged his ass. He mentally slapped himself, cursing himself for even thinking that.

When they were done cleaning, both boys went inside the house and went to their separate rooms to get changed. 

Bucky had been around so often that Sarah had cleaned out the old guest room for him. The gesture—though she argued it was small—meant a lot to him. He grabbed his swim trunks from his bag, staring at them. 

They were basic dark blue swim trunks. But the idea of being shirtless—he didn’t like it. Being shirtless outside was already a horrible idea, but shirtless outside fully knowing that people would see—that Samwould see? It made him want to shrivel up and die. 

He glanced at his left hand, eyeing it anxiously. He knew all too well about the gnarly scarring on his left shoulder, along with all of the scars on his torso. He had plenty of those, too. He was muscular—he wasn’t insecure about his physique, surprisingly, but he definitely wasn’t confident in his skin. And he was pale, too. Isn’t that not a good thing these days? It is, but it isn’t. 

He didn’t have the time to contemplate modern trends right now. He needed to just grow up and get over it. 

He begrudgingly got changed. He slipped on some Hey Dude shoes he’d gotten, and they were one of his favorite pairs of shoes he’d ever had. They were comfy, easy to get on and off, and they had a pretty design, too.

And just as he was about to leave the bedroom—his bedroom——

—he turned around and grabbed his shirt and slipped it back on. Goddamnit.

He walked down the stairs and found Sam, who was waiting by the door with two towels. He tossed Bucky one, and then snickered. 

“You need some sunscreen?” He teased. Bucky looked around to check if the kids were around before flipping Sam the bird.

Bucky followed Sam out to the water. His swim trunks were red, and he wore a black shirt. 

When the reached the water, Sam dropped his towel on the dock and pulled off his shirt. Bucky glanced away, though he desperately wanted to look.

He dropped his towel on the dock, too, before taking off his shoes. And then..he pulled off his shirt. He took a second to get used to the feeling, taking a few deep breaths.

He followed Sam into the water, swimming around with him. 

“Where’d you learn how to swim?” Sam asked suddenly. Bucky glanced down. Did he look weird? Is that why Sam was asking? 

He glanced back up at Sam’s face, realizing there was no judgment on his face. 

“Summer camp. In 1927. I can’t remember what it was called, but I do remember that there was a lake.” Bucky recalled. He remembered that summer camp. 

He’d been ten, and sleeping in a cot in a huge tent with other boys. They swam together, ate together, got changed together. He made a lot of friends, he thinks. None of those friendships lasted, obviously, most likely due to the lack of communication options in the time period. 

He felt himself zoning out as he found the memory.

There was a lake. A large tent. A mess hall for them to eat in. Trails for hiking. Places for crafts. Things like working with leather and crafting knives. Typical 1927 boy stuff.

Something happened at that camp. Something did, he was sure of it. He couldn’t remember if it was good or bad. No, whatever had happened there was definitely bad. Something told him that his brain was blocking it off for now for a reason.

He did know that he had started to realize that he was gay there. He’d never fully understand that until seven years later, but that summer had kickstarted the whole thing. 

What the hell had happened there that he couldn’t remember?

“Yeah? How was that?” Sam chuckled, snapping Bucky from his thoughts. They treaded the water, facing each other. They were a comfortable three feet apart.

“Fine. We were all butt-naked and it counted as bathing, but fine.” Bucky said, purposefully being expressionless.

Sam couldn’t keep himself from breaking into a smile. “Man, it’s like every time I talk to you, you just drop some random detail that throws off my entire day.” Sam laughs. Bucky grins, too, his lack of a shirt long forgotten.

“Okay, well, how did you learn to swim?” Bucky asked after a long moment of laughter. 

“Right here. I think I was five or six.” Sam grinned.

“You learned to swim here?” Bucky echoes. Sam nods.

“I grew up here, man.” Sam reminds him. 

Bucky nods, reminding himself of that.

“There were hiking trails, and the stars were beautiful. Yeah, we had pollution too, but not like now. You could see the stars every night, there.” Bucky murmured. He remembered that. The stars—there was one trail, that led to a field where there weren’t any trees and it was the best place to stargaze.

“Yeah?” Sam looked at Bucky, and Bucky tried his hardest not to stare at his chest.

He nodded. “Mhm.” 

“I can’t say it’s the same as 1930s summer camp, but the stars are pretty nice out here, too.” Sam raised a brow a little, a soft smile on his face.

“Oh, yeah?” Bucky felt a grin on his own face.

“Yeah. Y’know, I think Sarah’s got some camp chairs. If you want, you and I could see how it compares.” Sam said, a shameless look in his eyes.

Bucky smirked softly, before nodding. “We’ll see if it’s as good as it used to be.”

a/n: yeah uh I did actually combine the last couple of prompts but uhm merry Christmas

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[theinheriteddutchess]

Tides of Affection

Summary: Bucky is acting fishy, and you start worrying he's drifting away from you. You find out what's going on soon though.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 1580

Warning: none, unbetad we die like Humans normally do in this mermaid au

Notes: would love to hear what you think💕

Masterlist

The beginning * Previous

🦪

Bucky has been busy. He told you he's looking for food, and he is bringing his catchings home to you, but… what he brings back is too little for the hours he's away. 

He's being avoidant. He avoids looking at you when you question him. His upper body turned away from you. You're suspicious. What's going on? He's acting unlike himself. 

Normally he can't stay away from you, likes to linger nearby just in case you need him. But he's leaving you alone now. 

For long periods of time. You know this by the sun moving in the sky. No watches here. You don't miss time. Constantly having to be aware of how late it is seems more stressful now that the concept of it is gone. 

The ocean never sleeps, but plenty of life does in the night, when everything is so much darker and colder.

But even without a sense of time, you know Bucky is gone longer than he should. 

You know it's foolish, he's told you over and over how long he waited for you to join him, but there's a sneaking feeling of distress. What if he found someone else. There are merfolk, if you travel far enough. There are mermaids, born mermaids. What if he got bored of you already, tired of your slow swim, your bad hunting skills, your personality? You bite your lip. Bucky can change his mind.

He could look elsewhere. You changed, you can't go back. Even going on land for a short period of time will take years to learn, years to grow strong enough to even try. You'd be doomed down here without him. It wasn't your choice to be here, to become a mermaid, but you won't have a choice either if he deserts you.

Your thoughts are interrupted when a hand touches your arm and you swing your tail in reaction to the sudden attack.

“Ow, wait, it's me!” You hear Bucky's voice next to you, hands up in defense, then lowering to check his tail for injuries. “That was a good one.”

Your hands join him in seeing if there are cuts or bruises, even if you don't know what to look for because you don't know merfolk anatomy, your guilt taking over swiftly. “Sorry, I wasn't aware you got back. You startled me.”

He shrugged, and grinned boyishly at you. “It's fine, I'm glad I see you can look after yourself if anyone tries to hurt you.”

You lowered your gaze, feeling oddly proud at him saying that, maybe you were getting stronger. You didn't even need think to swing your tail instead of your hands, and it had looked like it was a good hit.

“Close your eyes.” He murmured suddenly. 

You eyed him suspiciously, but did what he asked. You felt the water move around you as he circled you, his chest pressed against your back (and god his skin was slippery smooth against yours) while he was doing something you couldn't figure out. 

Then his hands placed something on your chest, a string of some sort being tied behind your neck and his fingertips stroking your shoulders tenderly. 

“Okay, look.”

You opened your eyes, looked down at what he put there. A necklace. Unlike any kind you ever saw. A band of…possibly seaweed? You couldn't really tell…and a mixture of shiny rocks (possibly glass or actual gems) and pearls, all collected and crafted together in a stunning necklace. 

You touched it and lifted it carefully, to study it closely. Beautiful. And what mattered the most was that he made it himself. It looked carefully put together, and you instantly loved it. When you looked up his eyes were staring at you intensely, following your every expression. 

“Buck…” you whispered. Too overwhelmed to express yourself for a moment. 

“Do you like it?” His tone was strained, he was nervous. 

“Yes!” You looked at it again, nodding. “...yes, it's beautiful, it's.. Did you make this?”

“Of course,” he huffed, like you had just insulted him. “Found every stone and selected only the best, crafted it carefully, it's sturdy, I checked. It will last a while.”

He sounded so proud, you wanted to laugh, but you were still so surprised by this thoughtful gift, you only let out a little breath of water. “It's so amazing, really pretty.. And shiny. You found pearls? Actual pearls!”

He shrugged. “Lots of those if you know where to find them. Humans have them too, though they string them all together for no reason. Why would you just want pearls? They look better with other rocks and shells.”

“You didn't use any shells,” you told him with a smile. He looked so adorably annoyed with your former humans. Like the things they did simply seemed ludicrous to him. And finding out more about his way of life, yes, humans often did look foolish in their behavior. But you didn't inform him his kind’s behavior was a little weird to you too.

“I didn't want you to cut your skin, they can be sharp, besides they break often and you shouldn't use them in a necklace unless you intend for your courting to not last.”

Your interest was piqued. “Does that happen? A courtship not lasting?”

He frowned. “Of course, you don't want to be with the first person you are with, do you? Some courtships last a few hours, some last forever. Shell necklaces break easily, so they're used for short matings a lot.”

You thought about it, everything was so difficult to understand. “So mermaid- I mean, merfolk don't mate forever?”

“Often no. It's just sex.” He shrugged, like it was no big deal. “When there's an urge, or attraction, or the need for babies. But you can't just grab someone. You need to…” he searched for words. 

“Ease someone into it?” You suggested. 

He nodded. “Yeah, hence, the shells. They're pretty but it won't last.”

“And for something more serious?”

“Stones, or pearls, human pieces of jewelry worked into your own craftings. Things that last.”

“These all seem sturdy,” you mentioned with a warm feeling inside. 

“Of course, you're my mate.” He huffed again, like it should be obvious. 

“You just say matings won't last.” It was urgent for you to find out what he meant, he seemed devoted to you, but whenever you found out more about his kind, the more you realized how different things worked in his world.

“A lot of them don't. They want sex, or companionship. But when you want, it does. When you choose, it does. You know .” He looked at your neck, where his bite was. “You got mine.”

“You choose to mate me? As kids?”

“It's not,” he looked frustrated, but calmed himself down to think about a better way to explain. “You have mating, which is sex, and you have mating when it's like a bonding ceremony? It's intent. It's instinct. You can mate with someone, but being a mate is different. It's sacred.”

“But we were kids.” How can you choose as a kid, you were both so very young then. Had just met, before he bit you. 

“Because you were mine.” He simply said. 

This would sound insane in the human world. You can't own anyone. But in theirs, they didn't think like humans. They thought in possession, in claiming and hunting. It was hard to understand, being so new to this.

“But you could have been disappointed in me.”

“No. I knew then. We were “friends” you called it. I saved you, your life is mine. And I chose you. I saved you.” He seemed to puff himself up, like you were going to somehow deny it, the thought clearly agitating him. 

“What if you had just let me go unbitten?”

“I should have eaten you, it would have been expected. Your life was mine, to eat or to mate,” he told you. His fingers touching the necklace again softly, before dragging his fingers down your chest expertly. 

You shivered, but tried to focus. “But you didn't seem to want to bite me at first.”

“We were playing. What? You never played with your food?” He grinned teasingly. 

You slapped his peck, but got distracted by the firmness of it and it turned into more of a fondling session instead. 

His eyes became darker as he followed your ministrations.

“You could have killed me in the sea, you saved me, you never intended to eat me.”

His arms wrapped around you to pull you close. “That's why I bit you. To keep you. Besides, you wanted to be with me.”

“I was scared, I didn't want to be alone.” You explained, but then remembered how you had this ache inside you your whole life until you reunited with him again,

“You liked me. You weren't scared of me. I just knew. It felt right.”

“Even then?”

“I can't explain,” he groaned in frustration. “Humans are lost, they barely feel. We know. We don't overthink, we make decisions and then…that's it.”

“You choose me.” You repeated, pleased. 

He hummed. “Yes. And now you're here. For always.”

You laid your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat pump steadily. Your hand stroking his side as the other laid on one of his pecs, fascinated by his dark nipple, near your mouth. 

His finger lifted your chin after a peaceful moment, so you could stare into his eyes. “Next mating cycle you get to bite me.”

What?!

[pitiplush]

Hi, I know I've been MIA for a while, but since the news about the cancellation of Shadow and Bone broke I've been sad and I need to let it all out. I've come to think of my blog here like a safe haven, so there's no better place for this.

These photos are of the very first original amigurumis I've ever made (sorry for the first photo, I hastily put it together just for this post because none of my photos seemed good enough). As you can see they are some of the characters of Shadow & Bone: Alina, the Darkling, Inej and Kaz. This was back in 2021, when the show premiered. Back then I had never heard of the Grishaverse, but when I saw the teaser my curiosity was piqued so I gave the books a chance and I LOVED them. After so many years on a reader's block and at a time in my life where I was struggling to get by, I had something new and exciting to look forward to. I loved the show (watched it twice in a row, actually), I loved the cast and I loved everything surrounding the Grishaverse. I even convinced two of my friends to read the books (and I regret nothing) 😂

I was so thrilled I HAD to do something, to create something new inspired by the Grishaverse. At that moment I had been crocheting only for a year but I thought I could try and see if something came out of it. That's how I crocheted Alina, my very first bookish amigurumi. It's not my best work, sure, but till this day I'm so very proud of the result. This was my first attempt at designing an amigurumi, I felt like I was improving my craftsmanship while honouring one of my favourite fantasy sagas. So I kept going, I crocheted the Darkling, made changes to get a better design, started putting more effort into my photos, even replicating the show posters. I kept growing my collection, adding Inej and Kaz and taking fun photos of all of them.

I didn't get far in terms of interactions and likes with them but I didn't care that much, I was just genuinely elated that I was creating something new with my bare hands and that was my priority.

And after them, I stuck to the book amigurumis. Created new patterns and characters, got more involved in photography and photoedition, and strived to do better with each new amigurumi. I got happier too, the thrill to create and share not only my craft but the books I love the most has been the best part of these last three years. And none of that wouldn't have existed without Shadow & Bone, without Leigh Bardugo and her universe, without that amazing cast and all of the writers and staff that have worked tirelessly to bring the Grishaverse to life.

So yeah, I'm heartbroken it has come to this abrupt and unfair end, especially when there was just a season left. In a way it feels like putting an end to a part of my journey as an amigurumi artist, this first part in which I was fumbling to learn and create something new. And as sad as it is, I want to say thank you too. It's not much, but it feels right to use my small amigurumi kingdom and reach to say thank you to everyone involved in the Grishaverse. You've made me unbelievably happy in so many different ways that I have trouble putting it into words.

Thank you as well to everyone who has taken a bit of their time to like, share and leave comments about my Grishaverse amigurumis. You helped me believe in my work and gave me strength to keep crocheting.

I will always remember the first time I showed Alina and the Darkling to my best friends and we talked about how I could crochet the rest, and which ones they wanted to see the most and "omg what if one of the actors noticed your work?????". It will never happen, but imagining the possibility still makes me feel a bit giddy even after two years.

If you've read this far, thank you to you too and sorry for my silly ramblings ♥️ If you love S&B too I'm free to cry together about all of the things we will never see on screen anymore.

P.S.: who would've thought that little me having a crush on Prince Caspian (aka the great Ben Barnes) would have ended in crocheting plushies inspired in book characters??? Not me for sure 😂

[eupheme]

IN THE WOODS SOMEWHERE | part iv: long road ahead

[masterlist]

joel miller x f!reader

Rated E - 4.6k

Tags: brief canon-divergence, reader is mid/late 30s+, soft!dom Joel, angst, references to anxiety, mentions of hunted food and meals, sort-of romanticization of a wound, manual restraints, unprotected PiV

A/N - this is the last full chapter before the epilogue! Thank you to everyone who has read along and commented. I appreciate you so much! 💕

The days grow longer. And you find that all good things must come to an end.

The ground crunches under your steps, one after another.

He walks beside you now. Those worn leather gloves stuffed into pockets, the soft brushing of fingers and knuckles - never quite entwining.

Silence has been a third companion this morning. Along with the bright sun glinting off the melting snow that collapses under your steps. A rare, warm moment.

A good time to get from one place to the next, if there ever was one.

You wish it was like the time you went out before.

That walk from a few days ago, after those stolen moments in the barn. Steps taken afterwards, in a contented haze - even through the twinge of soreness between your thighs.

Over-enthusiastic, in his recompense.

You think you understand it now, after his words. Realizing there was nothing that could make him do anything. That maybe he had just been waiting all those weeks, like you had.

There's an inhale of breath, as his steps crunch alongside yours. Something weighing on his mind - enough to steal his voice, to hide it away.

You've picked up that much at least - the silence of thought looked different on his face than the silence of listening, of holding his tongue.

But on the next breath, he lets his thoughts free - flying straight like an arrow.

"You have a good thing goin'," His voice is low, as if he might be overheard. As if the trees around you can listen, as his tongue wets his lips.

A pause, "But it's only you out here."

You glance at him, steps slowing when you see how serious his eyes are. Examining you, as his jaw works - before they're dropping.

His tone changes, going lighter, "You could come with us."

The words sit heavy between you. Bringing you to a crashing stop as his offer curls inside your brain and your heart.

You can't pretend it's something you haven't thought about. Dismissed. Thought about again.

A never-ending loop of what-ifs that you have to force yourself not to dwell on - too painful to consider. Never thinking he would actually ask.

"I can't." There's a tremble in your voice that you shake away - a pain that pricks at your eyes, "This is all I have."

There's something like pity in the look he gives you.

A tension between his eyebrows as he coaxes, "What if I told you there was more out there? This place ain't going to last forever."

His hand flexes, as if to reach for you. Moving to grip onto the wire fence, instead - curling around the ice-cold metal.

"That generator has a year left on it. Two, tops."

Your eyes drop. Part of you knows this. That you've kept up the cabin the best you could. But it's been twenty years since the world ended. Some things you can't fix anymore.

"You can't live like this. All alone." He means it kindly. But it twists in your stomach, your sorrow turning into anger.

An acid souring your words, spitting them back his way, "At least it's livin’."

Neither one of you are the best at talking things out. Losing the craft when actions spoke louder.

His own anger flaring - unsheathing that sharp edge.

"They ain't coming back. The person you're waiting for. You know that, right?”

His words are like a slap, staggering you. Cruel, even if he doesn't mean them that way. Even if he only wants you to see what you've been ignoring, avoiding, for years now.

It steals your words, as you stare back at him. The twist of his mouth, the angry tilt of his eyebrows above those eyes that seem to pierce right through you.

It transforms him into someone you don't recognize.

Taking him back to the man he was, on that first night.

You turn on your heel, then - your boots sinking into the damp ground with the force of your steps. Leaving him standing at the fence, his arms now hanging at his sides.

It feels like an impossible choice. That tiny bit of hope eroding into a sliver of nothing. You've told yourself a hundred times that you wouldn't ask them to stay. That you couldn't.

That it wasn't fair.

But it's on the tip on your tongue, now - even in spite of your anger. Trying to force their way through your lips.

His voice comes first.

Low and soft, but still freezing you in place.

"Ellie is immune."

And slowly, you turn.

He stands where you left him, dark eyes solemnly searching yours. Wanting, needing you to understand what he is saying.

"What?"

You heard him, but it still doesn't make sense. Thoughts seem to buzz in your head - the words scooped up with the wind, taking them with it.

"Been bit twice and hasn't turned." He takes a step closer, and you find yourself doing the same.

Another, and then another - until you're in front of each other, again.

“I'm taking her to a group in Salt Lake City. Might be able to find a cure."

All you can do is stare, as his words sink in. Emotions flickering in your chest, like those old kodachrome slides - each breath changing the photo. Shock bleeds into worry, melting their way into sadness. And then, hope.

"Is she, really?" You breathe.

A mark still settled deep between your eyebrows, as you think. How Ellie must have felt, that first time. You can't imagine the fear of a bite - and to have experienced it twice? At her age?

So capable, but so young. She shouldn't have had to grow up like this. To have gone through that.

"I've seen the mark." His hand rakes through his hair, before bracing on his hips, "Made a promise I'd get her there safely."

You nod, automatically.

The unseen burden - their drive - making sense in a way you never understood until now. The weight of their journey replacing the heavy one in your heart. What a difference, this girl could make.

You see her in a new light.

Maybe she could prevent what happened to you from happening to anyone else.

His fingers brush yours, and you take them - his grip warm and familiar. Standing for a stolen moment, before you acknowledge the impossible impasse.

He can't ask you to go.

And you can't ask him to stay.

Your eyes burn.

You tell yourself it’s just from the wind.

———

As the days pass, you pick up on it.

The slow packing of things.

A spare zip-up jacket that’s taken up residence on the old wooden chair, now tucked away into a bag.

The small pile of tools - a swiss army knife, the skinny phillips head screwdriver.

Spending weeks cluttering the little side table. Sharing the space with an old iron lantern, so Joel could see when he tinkered on things in the evenings.

Now, swept away like they never existed. The pieces like magnets - slowly working their way back to each other, back to where they came from.

It makes your chest ache, but the days are getting a little warmer. The mark on his stomach starting to fade instead that raw, red splash.

Healing, with the time that has passed.

It has you wanting to withdraw, even though you should be blooming - sprouting up through the thawing soil.

Instead, you find yourself tucking yourself in your room a little more often. Leaving them alone.

Not every day - there’s moments when you forget. When you are just happy to be with them, spending time. Soaking it in.

It’s in the mornings, when your bed is empty. When there’s that flip in your stomach when he’s not there - when you remember that in the no-so-distant future, he won’t just be on the other side of the door.

That’s when you linger. Letting yourself press into the bed, softer than the floor.

You’ve never been good at goodbyes.

You’ve never gotten the chance to give them.

And when you finally have the chance, you don’t want to. You want it - them - to linger.

To be tethered, like you are, to this place. Moss growing over stone.

But you can’t ask for that. And with what you know now, you won’t let that happen.

There's a finality in the way you pluck things off the pantry shelf tonight. As you prepare the meal - passing things to Ellie to open, watch over for you as they begin to cook.

Giving Joel the best cuts of meat from the deer. It had taken him two days to track it down. It's become harder and harder to find food around these parts.

You should ration it. If he notices, he doesn't say anything. Letting you season it with an abundance of spices, almost too much, before he takes it to the fire.

Pulling as many comforting things as you have. Letting your mind wander back to your childhood, trying to adapt it to now.

Canned potatoes, a hearty chili, peanut butter sandwiches. Applesauce and and old packet of kool-aid.

In the past, you would have nibbled away at each one. Stretched them into days, wanting to save these small indulgences.

Tonight - you don't care.

It becomes a patchwork of flavors. You're not even sure if it will go together. But if it's good - you make it.

Wanting them to go to bed tonight, full and happy.

That you can do, at least.

The food fills most of your cookware, finishes dishes spilling across your counter. Plates piled high as the sun sets - the golden beams making the kitchen feel hazy. Softened in the evening glow.

It takes most of the afternoon, but it's worth it. To have that moment of sitting down together.

Of actual tableware set out, instead of standing at the counter - shoveling in a bite. Running off to finish what ever you'd been working on.

Tonight, metal clinks against ceramic. Steaming food and a swirl of red in wine glasses - a smattering of giggles with Ellie's exaggerated "pinkies out".

It feels - normal. In spite of everything.

It makes you wistful.

Like if you closed your eyes, it would be back then. That maybe you'd be home - still young and without all these unshakeable burdens and memories.

And if not that, then it makes you think of what could be.

What can't be.

A heaviness begins in your heart, stretching down to your fingers. Weighing down your fork - each bite slow.

But not because you're savoring it - when you look back, you won't remember the flavors.

Trying to soak the evening in. Every detail. Trying not to drag down the mood with your melancholy. Ignoring the way Joel's eyes sweep towards you, the pinching of his brow.

You don't want to make it weird. To cling on, even if your fingers itch to. It had been change and luck that had brought them your way, and hopefully that would follow them on the road ahead.

So instead, you throw yourself into conversations with Ellie. Really trying to listen, to remember all of it.

A smile, as you conceed that perhaps Batman wasn't a superhero, after all. A conversation you’ve touched on before, when Ellie found a stash of comic books on the shelf.

“I think his powers are his intellect, and disicpline. His humanity is his power, you know?"

“Bruce is just a rich dude in a suit. He's no different than Tony Stark."

"Iron Man is a hero. His suit gives him superpowers. Plus he's like, stupid-smart."

"How can he be both stupid and smart?"

"Joel, you don't even know who Iron Man is."

The dishes left in the sink, for you to tackle tomorrow. They will be welcome distraction, then.

Clearing the space for candles, as the streaks of purple and grey fill the rooms.

Cards flicking across the table. Throwing yourself into the Texas Hold'em that's been the favorite lately. Ellie catching on quickly, finding joy in calling out the bluffs.

Played for pennies, buttons, things found around the house. Carefully coveted when won, as if they actually held a value. It’s easy to throw yourself into it, getting caught up in the game.

It's late, when the round ends. When you're left looking at each other, the single candle not strong enough to keep away the creeping darkness.

You stand.

Still unwilling for things to end. Not yet. Just a few minutes longer.

So you find another candle instead. A thick one with three wicks - until the glow is warm and filling the space again. Washing over expressions that resemble your own.

"One more."

You play one more, and then another. As the minutes tick by, and the light burns low.

———

His thumb sweeps feather-light over the mark. Slightly faded with time that has passed - the angry slash fading to a swooped line.

You’ve spent nights mapping each other out in the dark, but not like this. The curtains drawn back to let the moonlight in, the candle from the kitchen moved to sit on the side table - making his skin glow in the golden light.

Touching you like he wants to remember, wants to actually know each scar and mark on your skin.

“This looks new.”

“It is,” You smile, a soft laugh. “That’s from the night we met.”

Joel’s head lifts, a question in his eyes.

“Ellie.” You tell him - a soothing brush through his curls when he frowns, “She’s one hell of a kid. Out of all of us, she’s the one that’s gonna be just fine.”

He makes a sound at that, a low acknowledgment. You wonder if he had more time, if he’d press for more information.

Head dipping as he presses his lips softly against the scar, instead.

“I’m sorry.”

It could be an apology just for this. For what he said before. Or - it just could be for all the things that has happened. To you, to him.

It’s too tender.

You’re not used to soft. Neither one of you are. Awkward and fumbling over words, trying to hold things back.

Knowing there’s not much time left.

You shake your head, “Don’t be. I don’t mind, it’s-“

It’s a reminder that the two of you existed. A memory, for when you’re gone. That it wasn’t just a dream.

It’s fucked up to think that way. But then again, what isn’t fucked up about the world, anymore?

“It’s fine. She was trying to help you.” You deflect, “Can’t fault her for that.”

He hums, his hand flattening against your stripped-bare skin. Drifting along the curve of your waist and hip, fingertips carefully dragging.

It makes your stomach flip, something bubbling up to burn in your chest.

You don’t want soft tonight. You don’t think you can take it.

Teeth gritting as you try to shift the weight. Trying to pull him on top of you, from where he rests on his side. A palm tucked under his cheek, his curls soft and tousled from a recent shower.

It’s domestic.

That bubbling feeling rises, choking you. Blinking back the sting of your eyes, as he resists for just a second - confused.

As if you could really move him, all on your own.

You second tug is softer, and he moves then. Rolling on top of you until his hips are cradling yours, elbows digging into the mattress on either side as he hovers.

Surrounding you, until he’s all you can see. A hand curving against your jaw, a thumb brushing against your cheek.

There’s a pinch between his brows. Something that’s been there since that morning walk, those days ago.

A permanent etching, above eyes that see too much.

Your own eyes close, to break that connection. A hand curling around the back of his neck to bring his mouth down to yours.

The groan sounds broken in your throat, when his body melds against yours. That weight pressing you into the bed, as you deepen the kiss.

Your thigh hooking around his waist, pulling him closer. The sound echoed when your teeth scrape his lip in your eagerness.

That look again, as he pulls back. You know he can read yours.

Desperate.

All but clinging to him, as his sharp look softens. You hope he knows what you need, because you don’t think you have the words tonight.

If you open your mouth, you’re afraid the rest will flow. That you’ll say something you’ll regret - all your feelings wrapped up so tightly, scrambling over each other to burst through first.

But, you think you can manage one. For him.

“Please.”

Those dark eyes flick back and forth between yours. You wonder if he needs the same thing because suddenly, his head is ducking back down.

The hand on your cheek sliding to cup the back of your neck. Thumb and forefinger pressing into the muscle, holding you in place as his hips start to slowly rock.

Grinding himself against you, as his tongue flicks at yours. Slowly swelling, growing hard against the soft curve of your thigh, your hip.

Leaving a sticky streak behind, as your fingers grip at his shoulder. As he swallows the moans that grow softer, as the neediness takes over.

Angling himself so he slides between your thighs. His hot length nudging against your core, shining from the way his mouth presses to yours. Slick now, as his other hand cups a breast.

Teasing, then pinching. The slight pain makes you gasp, the pleasure layering over it as he swallows the sound.

Your hips lift, seeking him. A frustrated hand snaking between you - wrapping around his length, lining him up.

His hips slow, to where he’s just pressing against you. Not nudging inside, not yet. Eyes open and dark as his head tilts back.

Watching. Observing your change of pace, a shift in what’s become the usual. A question in them, unspoken but you can read it as well as he can read you.

This what you want?

You need this?

Your lips are on his neck, as you shift. The tip parting and then splitting you as he starts to sink inside. Tasting the salt of his skin as your arms wrap around his strong shoulders, holding yourself against him.

Joel groans as he’s enveloped in your heat. The hand dropping to the curve of your waist and squeezing, as he drives into you.

It steals your breath, a soft gasp against his neck as his cock makes room for itself. A sharp stretch in the way he fills you.

Nails biting into the meat of his shoulder as his hips sit flush. Before his hand is moving - reaching for yours. Dragging one from his shoulder and pinning it against the mattress.

Pushing you back, bracing himself above you. That forearm still pressed into the bed, his fingers still cupping the back of your neck.

Head dropping, so he can nose against your cheek. His voice a low rasp, barely audible in the soft shell of your ear.

“If you want it, you’re gonna take what I give you.”

It sends a flickering thrill up your spine. How he has you held so firmly in place. Thumb pressing into the hollow under your ear - keeping your face tipped up towards him.

You do expect him to take. Bracing for it, a flutter of your eyelashes - waiting for the sharp, unyielding snap of his hips.

Instead, his hips rock. A lazy, slow drag as he nudges deep, and then deeper.

Your free hand clings to him, wrapping around a thick bicep. The heel of your foot pressing against the curve of his ass, urging.

But he keeps it up. Small thrusts into where you’re warm and wet and aching for him, tilting your hips up to meet him.

All while his eyes stay on yours. Rarely blinking - just taking you in.

You wonder if this is how you looked earlier, at the table. That greedy inhalation of anything you could.

Wanting to remember.

It has your jaw gritting. His tenderness would be something you’d marvel at, if it was another night.

But you want to forget. Everything that isn’t him, that isn’t just this moment.

There’s a pink flash of tongue as he wets his lips, framed by the peppered-grey strands of his beard.

“More?”

“More.” You parrot, a jerky nod to your head.

That sharper thrust comes, and then another. Each one pushes a thought from your head, replacing it with soft, hazy bliss.

The grind of his hips as he finds the angle that he knows well. The one that has you gasping, the coarse hair a much-needed friction against your clit.

Each thrust like a tooth on a gear, slowly winding you up. Twisting in your belly until you feel like it’s about to snap - your breath a ragged gasp with each harsh punch of his hips.

It’s almost enough. The fingers around your wrist tightening, as he hold himself back. Your thighs gripping around his hips as you clench, his own breath equally harsh.

His name, breathed out the feeling begins to overwhelm you.

“Joel. Joel, I’m-”

Those arms move, then. Releasing that tight grip, as his lips brush yours. His words an echo of that first night, when you had fallen in bed together.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Come on.” He coaxes - needing it as much as you do. “Come for me.”

Wrapping his arms around you, as you shatter.

———

He wakes her quietly. A hand on a sleepy shoulder, a gentle shake.

A finger raising to his lips as her eyes open. Bleary-eyed as she yawns, looking around the dark room. It's early - the morning light is just starting to crest over the mountains.

"It's time." Joel tells her quietly, no more than a whisper, "You got your things?"

Ellie frowns as she nods, foot pointing at the bag at the end of her bed.

"Alright then. Get dressed, we gotta head out."

A moment, her voice hoarse with sleep.

Almost sounding small, "Is she coming with us?"

He stares at her for a moment, before his head shakes, slowly.

Her voice drifts after him as he turns - not wanting to see the disappointment, "Then, aren't we going to say goodbye?"

"You know we did. Last night, that's what that was all about." He tells her, a bit of that old bite coming back, "We'll never leave if-"

We'll never leave if we see her again. We'll want to stay. We already do.

His jaw grits, "-if we don't get started now.”

She nods sullenly.

He gives her space.

Taking one last look around the small cabin. Flashes of the time that has passed - dinners by the little fireplace. How they all managed just to fit on that old worn couch.

How he hadn't seen Ellie laugh like that, not since Kansas City. Not since Sam.

He leaves it for her. Took him a while longer than he'd like to admit. Tucked into the book that rests by the window - the place where it all started. She'll find it there, he's sure.

Never been good at goodbyes. Not before, and not now. Not even when he's been afforded the extra time.

Hands shoved in his pockets so he doesn't touch anything else. Jacket already on, the rifle slung across his back. Itching to get out the door, because being stuck in this limbo is weighing him down.

Thoughts threatening to burst from the ground and wrap around his ankles, anchoring him until he has no choice but to stay.

But, they have a job to do.

Soon, the door opens. Ellie is staring - walking past him, to the kitchen counter.

Where some bundles had been left out. Cans of food and supplies wrapped in canvas bags. A bit of color peeking out of the top.

Those scarves she’s been working on. Finally finished, the ends weaved, neatly tasseled. She must have worked hard to finish them, putting this last bit of kindness together.

Ellie hesitates then, fingers tracing the woven pattern - glancing at the shut bedroom door, across the hall.

"Joel-" Ellie begins - but he's shaking his head.

"We gotta go."

"I know about it, that you-" She's protesting,

"Ellie, please."

The two words are quiet. Just a small, short thing.

She nods. Reaching for the smaller of the two bags, shoving it into her own backpack.

Trying to be quiet as she zips it up, fitting it back on her shoulders over the heavy, plum-colored coat.

Waiting at the door as he does the same, before the front door is opening. Letting her step out first, those scarves wrapped tight around their noses, still smelling like the cabin. Like her.

His fingers reach up - a quick brush against the steel horseshoe above the door. Like he’s watched her do. For luck, she said.

And then, he's shutting the door behind them.

"It's west, to Salt Lake City." Joel nods, as she follows behind, "Let's get Callus, and see how far we can get today."

And they start off together - again.

———

You wake alone.

You were expecting it - it was the right call.

But it still hurts.

The spot next to you is cool, but there's still an indent in the pillow where he laid next to you. Last night and all those ones before.

The spot smelling like him, and you resist the urge to bury your face in it. To just stay in bed, all day. Maybe forever.

You can't be upset - you were the one who said no. The offer had been small, but it had been there.

But it was too complicated. Too dangerous.

You both knew that the world was like now.

These weeks had been a reprieve. A moment you never should have had, because the world doesn't work with kindness anymore.

Better to appreciate, remember fondly, and then - move on.

So you busy yourself, instead. Catching up on things put on hold for all those weeks.

Taking stock of what you'll need.

Trying not to think too much about the heavy mass in your stomach - to wonder if it’s grief, or if it’s regret.

So instead, you turn roll your sleeves up. Tackling the plates and pans and mess of shining, silvers forks and spoons.

The stack slowly dwindling, until everything is in its place again.

It's mid-afternoon when you finally sit. On the far left-side of the couch, though there's room for you to spread out, now. Looking out the window at the path that leads to the gate.

Wondering if footprints remain in the snow.

Wondering if the weather has been kind to them.

Wrapping a blanket around you as you reach for the book that you've only snatched small moments of, thinking you'll finally get a chance to finish it.

It falls open, to the middle. A folded piece of paper tucked between the pages, at a different spot than the scrap piece working as a bookmark.

Curiously, you unfold it.

Words scrawled neatly across the page. The handwriting you don't recognize, but you still know it, because it reminds you of him.

Taking a long second to memorize the way your name looks in his writing, before you read the rest.

I know what we talked about.

If you change your mind, I got a brother in Jackson.

It's good place, with good people. They'd take care of you.

Just mention my name to Tommy.

Might find our way back there, when all this is over.

Yours,

Joel

You read it, again and again. Something twisting in your stomach, curling into knots. Catching in your chest.

Thinking about everything. About all the years you’ve spent here - a prison and a sanctuary. About that walk in the woods. His words.

They ain’t coming back.

What if there was more?

A long while passes, before you slowly unfold yourself.

Crouching down by the old bookcase. Looking past the spines of books and comics - the briefest of smiles at the memory, before you're reaching for that stack of old maps.

Dragging one out onto the kitchen table.

Unfolding the creased, worn pages.

Your finger dips over the valleys. Finding your home, nestled in the woods and mountains.

Then, dragging it slowly - finding the roads, the highways.

Tracing a path towards Jackson.

Would love to know what you thought of this series / this ending! 💕 thank you again for reading! edit: okay, not quite the end! There is an epilogue up now, linked on the masterlist.

[richincolor]

Title: Four Eids and a Funeral Author: Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé & Adiba Jaigirdar Genres: Contemporary, Romance Pages: 321 Publisher: Feiwel & Friends Review Copy: Purchased Availability: Available now

Summary: Let’s get one thing straight: this is a love story.

These days, Said Hossain spends most of his time away at boarding school. But when his favorite hometown librarian Ms. Barnes dies, he must return home to New Crosshaven for her funeral and for the summer. Too bad being home makes it a lot harder to avoid facing his ex-best friend, Tiwa Olatunji, or facing the daunting task of telling his Bangladeshi parents that he would rather be an artist than a doctor.

Tiwa doesn’t understand what made Said start ignoring her, but it’s probably that fancy boarding school of his. Though he’s unexpectedly staying through the summer, she’s determined to take a page from him and pretend he doesn’t exist. Besides, she has more than enough going on, between grieving her broken family and helping her mother throw the upcoming Eid celebration at the Islamic Center—a place that means so much to Tiwa.

But when the Islamic Center accidentally catches fire, it turns out the mayor plans to demolish the center entirely. Things are still tense between the ex-friends but Tiwa needs Said’s help if there’s any hope of changing the mayor’s mind, and Said needs a project to submit to art school (unbeknownst to anyone). Will all their efforts be enough to save the Islamic Center, save Eid, and maybe save their relationship?

Review: [There are two deaths that impact this book, both off page: the recent death of an adult from cancer, which puts the plot in motion, and the past death of a child due to a hit-and-run accident. Additionally, Tiwa, who is Black, faces on page racism from within the Muslim community in a few scenes.]

Even though a funeral is what puts the plot in motion, Four Eids and a Funeral is on the lighthearted side of the contemporary romance spectrum. Authors Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé and Adiba Jaigirdar crafted a cute, fast-paced story about childhood friends rebuilding their relationship despite various problems popping up in their community and personal lives. Tiwa and Said have distinct narrative voices, and I appreciated seeing life in New Crosshaven from both their eyes. I especially enjoyed the contrast between Tiwa, who stayed and maintained close ties to the community, and Said, who left and started drifting away.

One of the strengths of Four Eids and a Funeral is the breadth and diversity of the cast. The Muslim community in New Crosshaven is varied; Said is Bangladeshi American, and Tiwa is Nigerian American. Said and Tiwa relate to their community and their religion differently, and Said’s sister, Safiya, has a cute lesbian romance subplot. Tiwa faces some anti-Black racism within the Muslim community, too, and the small-town politics plots highlighted divisions within larger town. New Crosshaven felt like it had life to it, which was no small feat when you’ve got just two POV characters.

On the other hand, I think there were actually a few too many plot threads in this book for its length. There were some things I felt should have gotten far more page time than they did, like Tiwa’s younger brother’s death and what happened to her family afterward. I wanted those events to have more emotional impact on me. The truth behind why Tiwa and Said drifted apart and how they reacted when they uncovered that information was a little disappointing to me as well.

That said, the authors did say right at the start that Four Eids and a Funeral was a love story. I got distracted by my desire for additional drama and tragedy and forgot that the epigraph quoted Much Ado About Nothing. This book is solid craftsmanship with a pair of engaging protagonists, and the bits I was dissatisfied with were largely an expectations mismatch on my part.

Recommendation: If you’re looking for a contemporary romance this summer, you should consider adding Four Eids and a Funeral to your list. Authors Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé and Adiba Jaigirdar created a cute romance about childhood friends reconnecting against the backdrop of vibrant Muslim community.

Extras: Q&A: Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé & Adiba Jaigirdar, Co-Authors of ‘Four Eids and a Funeral’

[girl4music]

It just occurred to me that WayHaught had sex in Wynonna’s old bedroom because they turned her bedroom into a craft room. That’s kind of hilarious.

But then again - they’ve likely had sex all over the house because they tend to just go at it anywhere.

Mel was like “change it up - go outside and do it for once. Me and Doc do.” And Kat was like “we have class.” Sure. So much class. There’s not a single room or square area in that home that you and Waverly haven’t fucked in. Off the top of my head Haught…

Willa’s room. The kitchen. The hallway. The stairs.

Obviously your own bedroom. The Homestead barn.

Now Wynonna’s bedroom (aka - now a craft room).

If someone were to draw an interior diagram of that entire home, I bet you every single square area of it was christened by WayHaught sex at some point. 😂

And on those nights with Waverly working the police dispatch… and the Sheriff working overtime, I am very sure that they did more than make out in that office.

Class my ass, Kat. WayHaught are pretty crazy too.

[gloomyclauds]

I changed my Meadowlands Farm plan, and hopefully this time, it's final 😅 You can see how the old plan looked like here.

Here's the thing about planning: You can make the prettiest farm, and everything might look right, but it's only after you play in it that you actually see if things are working right. I can't have something that just looks good in my eyes, it needs to be functional, otherwise I just stop playing. Then again, I haven't done this in my actual save, so there could still be some things that still need to be changed for the sake of my sanity, but let's hope this is it.

Keep reading for my explanation of the changes, and the mod list ⬇️

I encountered 5 main problems with my original design:

Furnaces (too far away from crafting area);

Tree Farm with hidden mushroom logs (too many different trees close to each other, means worse mushroom outcomes);

Junimo Area (cute but useless);

Artisan Machines outside (it's more practical to have them inside, next to the Deluxe Grabber);

Bee Houses are better at Ginger Island.

ALSO, I completely forgot about the desert obelisk. So yeah, the first plan had a lot of issues...

The mod list as changed as well. It's a lot longer now (literally), I wanted to make the text "Indented" (make the space between each paragraph smaller), but tumblr wouldn't let me 😩

Vibrant Pastoral Recolor + 1.6 Fix

Clover Grass

Elle's Cuter Barn Animals

Elle's Cuter Cats

Elle's Cuter Coop Animals

Elle's Cuter Horses

Elle's Seasonal Buildings

Elle's Town Buildings

Pet Bowl Recolor

Seasonal Tub o Flowers

Simple Foliage

Simple Resources

Cozy Hut House

Better Water

Terracotta Garden Pots

DaisyNiko's Earthy Interface

Turn Sprinklers Into Mushrooms

Gwen's Paths (Crystal Floor and Path disabled)

Vanilla Tweaks (all editions)

Content Patcher

1oxnes and Talkohlooeys' Seasonal Portraits

Ran's Prettier Witch

Seasonal Cute Characters

Better Signs

Dynamic Reflections

Spouses React To Death

Better Critters

Custom Critters

Cranber's Fireflies

Fall 28 Snow Day

Generic Mod Config Menu + Earthy Recolor

Portraiture

UI Info Suite 2

Vintage Reshade Vibrant Preset (not used in this post)

To make this plan:

CJB Cheats Menu CJB Item Spawner Instant Buildings From Farm Tractor Mod

[goldkirk]

Places I’ve successfully used my rollator so far

• some of the sidewalks, not all, and they’re usually not equal quality on both sides of the street if sidewalks even exist on a street at all

• Target (except the numbers inside the elevator don’t at all match the numbers of the floors in the shopping center? They’re off by like 3 in any direction? So that went wrong the first couple of times, and it wasn’t just me who hit the wrong floor lol). I was able to get everywhere but some areas were tight maneuvering and I caught my wheels on edges. Idk how people get through those spots on the borrow-able scooters that are wide and long

• QFC. No notes. Zero issues using the rollator there or in its parking lot. Thanks QFC

• the construction zone detour, which led through some spots with no curb cuts and also narrowed sidewalks in places due to fencing and equipment

• Barnes and Noble, which was fully accessible and had a surprisingly huge elevator (I assume for loading book carts and pallets from the shipment-receiving basement level or something)

• the creek walk outside the retirement community that’s wide and fully paved with even smooth concrete. Delightful except for that one guy who stared directly in my eyes for the whole seven seconds I walked into and out of his view from his living room (I assume?) window while I kept checking to see if he was in fact still staring me down. Like what do you think I’m doing that requires you to watch without even a break. Do you think I’m gonna rob you or something just because I’m doing something weird for my age dude

• the intersection by my apartment building. yeesh. Those crosswalks are bad on foot so it was an extra-rattle-y ride with the rollator (but less work thab crossing without it!)

Places I need to try using it still

• the Light Rail, I just am waiting till I need to use it to run an errand next

• the bus system, I already need to run an errand via it but I cannot for the life of me find an answer to what you’re supposed to do if you’re not specifically in a wheelchair but you’re using a wheeled device that’s bigger than a tiny wire mesh rolling shopping bin. So at this point I’m just hoping and praying for a minimally full bus when I do go and a bus driver who can tell me if I need to strap it in or fold it or just hold it or what. Like it’s not a wheelchair or a baby stroller. What are the rules. What is the expectation. I have searched websites and YouTube and Reddit and tumblr and I still haven’t found an answer 🥴.

• Eliott Bay Book Company. This place has internet sites saying it’s wheelchair accessible. I’m confused. I haven’t seen an elevator in it and there’s steps to get in and steps to get up to the second floor and the aisles seemed like some of the corners might be hard, and impossible when it’s crowded. I have doubts. I’d love to find a secret elevator or something but I can’t find the information anywhere on their actual website or Yelp or whatever, it just says “accessible” sooo?

• Parks. I need to figure out which parks are passable with a rollator and which trails or paths are too narrow for it.

• the library. I know it’s accessible already, so it should be simpler than many places. they’re still dealing with that ransomware attack though so I’m not using them frequently aside from though Libby rn

• Pike Place Market. Internet says it’s accessible. my personal experience says I’m willing to be surprised and I’ll be happy if I do see full accessibility. But also that I’ve had a hard time navigating that place when it’s not like, empty, just on two feet soooooo. I’m guessing it’s going to be very hit or miss despite there being some elevators just because of tight areas and weird floor changes and stuff. I do hope I’m pleasantly shocked though when I go!

• the craft store. any craft store. I need yarn and I haven’t been able to make my mind up about it so I need to just go in a store and physically experience the yarn skeins and choose. I don’t expect to have issues there but it might be an adventure in terms of bussing and walking over lol, we’ll see

[caelwynn]

Caelwynn's Mod List for Stardew 1.6 - Aesthetics

Diverse Stardew Valley — allows you to introduce a multitude of diversity into the vanilla NPCs with regards to ethnicity, sexuality, gender, and disabilities. I adore this mod, and use a different set of combos on each save, as many NPCs have multiple options.

Elle's Seasonal Buildings — changes the look of farm buildings. It has multiple looks to choose from that slot in nicely/cleanly with various overhauls such as Starblue Valley or DaisyNiko's Earthy Recolour.

A Cleaner Sewer — revamps the decor of the sewer and Krobus's spouse room.

Seasonal Outfits for Ridgeside — adds seasonal outfits for Ridgeside characters.

Seasonal Outfits for SVE Vanilla Style — adds seasonal outfits for SVE characters.

Dynamic Reflections — allows the sky to be reflected in the water. A huge resource hog if you're on a low-end computer, but I played with it anyways because SO PRETTY.

Visible Fish — makes fish visible in different bodies of water. Also another potential resource hog.

SH's Wild Animals — adds in a ton of additional critters that run around the map. Again, may make your game stutter/slow.

Crab Monster Recolors — has several options to recolor rock/lava crabs so that they're easier to spot.

No More Pile of Bug Meat — changes Willy's special order event so that the bait is all in a container instead of an eldritch mass on the beach.

Elle's Cuter Barn Animals — retextures the barn animals to, indeed, make them cuter.

Elle's Cuter Cats — adds 155 different breeds/skins to pick from for your feline companion.

Elle's Cuter Coop Animals — yep, makes your coop animals cuter too.

Elle's Cuter Dogs — adds 340+ breeds of dogs to pick from.

Elle's Town Buildings — redoes the buildings around the valley to match one of four different palettes: vanilla, earthy, Starblue, and wittily.

DSV Flower Queen's Crown - Always Raining in the Valley — allows Sterling, Mia, and Henry to have a chance at winning the Flower Crown.

DSV Flower Queen's Crown - Ridgeside Village — gives RSV NPVs the chance to win the Flower Crown.

DaisyNiko's Earthy Interface — a warm, earth-toned palette for the user interface.

DaisyNiko's Earthy Interiors — same as above except for interiors.

DaisyNiko's Earthy Recolour — same as above except for the whole map.

DaisyNiko's Earthy Map for East Scarp — same as above for East Scarp.

DaisyNiko's Earthy Map for Visit Mt. Vapius — same as above for Mt. Vapius.

DaisyNiko's Earthy Map for RSV — same as above for Ridgeside Village.

DaisyNiko's Earthy Map for SVE — same as above for Stardew Valley Expanded.

Simple Foilage — retexture for trees.

Aimon's Fancy Farmhouse — a fancier farmhouse map. I've only played with the starter house thus far.

Aimon's Fancy Shed — a fancier shed.

Jen's Cozy Cellar — gives the cellar a little basement den in addition to space for casks.

Pookachu's Medium Greenhouse — a mid-sized greenhouse with lots of areas for trees.

Gwen's Paths — retextures/recolors craftable paths and flooring.

Lovely Kitchen — retextures/recolors the kitchen you purchase.

Farmhouse Fixes — adds a bunch of fixes useful with custom farmhouse maps.

Skell's Misc. Furniture — adds some random furniture pieces. I downloaded it for the computer desk and the motorcycles.

Old Wallpapers and Flooring — adds a bunch of new wallpapers/flooring if you're going for a more aged/retro look.

H&W Bathroom Furniture — adds bathroom furniture/fixtures to craft a bahtroom with.

HxW Fairy Fountain Furniture — pretty fountains in a range of sizes.

H&W Fairy Garden Furniture — very whimsical outdoor furniture set, including a metric-ton of garden gnomes.

H&W Outdoor Furniture — more traditional style of outdoor furniture.

Nostalgic Old Furniture Collection — adds dozens of older/retro style furniture and clutter.

Retro Style Furniture — more retro style furniture in case you want the house to feel like Grandpa actually left the contents to you.

Nano's Decorative Tree Furniture — outdoor furniture, including a swing hanging from a tree.

A Better-Looking Plasma TV — I liked the console tables.

Alternative Textures — allows you to easily add in retextures for various furniture/objects.

Alternative Texture Packs

Connect Your Fence (AT)

DustBeauty's Industrial Furniture

H&W Fairly Garden Gurniture Recolor Mega Pack

Fence Lamps

Furnicolor (Recolors and Reinterpretations of Furniture)

Muski's Recolor of H&W Greenhouse Furniture

Muski's Recolor of H&W Outdoor Furniture Pack

Hearth and Home Furniture

Hearth and Home - Walls and Floor

Nano's Retro Style Furniture

H&W Greenhouse Furniture Recolors for AT

Antique TV Sets

Hanging Flower Baskets

Lovely Kitchen Islands and Extras

Pirate Furniture and Decorations

Quilted Blue Pinstripe Bed

Too Many Swatches II

The Masterpost for all of the mods is located here.

[misc-obeyme]

And when Barbatos does get his full power back? I can only imagine he continues to be a butler (at least part-time!) bc he actually kinda enjoys it. Something about the idea of “Deities Serving Their People Helps Grow Their Power And Secure Their Immortality” is a cool idea to me.

Fixing up the town does raise the question, why don’t the royals just pay for it? But I think it’s simply the matter of “Dad doesn’t like my idea and won’t financially support me or my friends, so I’m on my own money-wise”? Which I’m sure Dia is okay with that because it just means it’s going to bring people together to work towards a common goal!

Levi confirmed hardest marriage candidate lol! I know in some farm sims there are second towns, or import shops. And you know how in stardew, part of the bedroom changes to accommodate for the spouse’s interests? Maybe a special marriage requirement for Levi is Internet Connection. Which in real life, it’s difficult to get any signal out in rural areas. If I were forced to live in a rural area, I’d probably marry the person with the strongest wifi too skdjfnjinvsd /hj

Maybe to accommodate for lack of gifts, you could also ask your chosen bachelor/ette to hang out, or you could go on certain quests for them? Many Farm Sims, in my experience, don’t explore other love languages beyond Gift Giving, and I don’t think I’ve seen a mechanic like “Quality Time” outside of cutscenes. They could be like multiple-choice events. It could help with characters like Levi and Satan, who you could take to the “local pub/community hall’s arcade corner” or “the huge library in the next town over”. As for quests, one example comes to mind like, Belphie wants sushi for dinner, but this farming town doesn’t have anything fancy like that, so you have to create three or five different sushi dishes, three of each, for the whole family. Everyone gets two hearts, but Belphie will get like five hearts or smth like that. OR! Not just building a library/museum for the town but also filling it up with books and mining artifacts, and it keeps building on Satan’s hearts! Or doing favours for the Little D’s so they can magically fix up the arcade corner of the pub/community hall. Just to toss out a few examples!

I like feathers! Or maybe the token can be something personalized that you can’t just buy or craft normally? Or MAYBE the marriage token could be like… A magic golden apple? In the OG game there’s a significance behind apples, especially between Diavolo and Lucifer (spoilers I won’t get into for everyone’s sakes)! A magic golden apple could be small enough to make into a necklace pendant, and will never rot (probably inedible anyway lol). It could be anything really.

Also I don’t see any issue with keeping the demon/angel elements. They could still be mixed into the game. I can see pacts turning into benefits, like a pact with Asmo can help you charm animals or collect hearts faster, or a pact with Mammon can bring more wealth for your crops! Maybe a full 10-heart friendship with Luke could give you the ability to heal your animals of illness! Though things like that could be less magical if most characters were human, which I also don’t see a problem with. Like maybe a Max Friendship with Satan could unlock a Barn Cat minigame where you can catch rodents and stave off the need to repair animal stables, or Max Friendship with Levi makes the fishing minigame ten-times easier, or unlocks a Charmed Golden Fishrod.

I have no experience in game development, but I would definitely make a fangame free for everyone to play if I could! I might just draw some concepts for funsies tho!

Okay, I love all of this!

Barbatos getting more powerful just by helping his people out? Yes forever.

And I think the family disapproval thing is a theme in some of the games, too. Like in Trio of Towns, the MC has to prove to their dad that they can even be a farmer to begin with and they have to do all these stupid checklists for him. So I could easily see it being like Dia's dad doesn't approve, so you're on your own, but together we can prove that it's doable!

Okay I love all the ideas you have about marriage candidates and gifts and such. Because I personally have never played a game where the only way to get them to love you was gift giving and festival participation. And the emphasis has always been most on gift giving. I love the idea of there being like specific quests or other such things that somehow incorporate the person's interests. Someone get Levi that internet connection!

Oh I like the apple! It really could be so many different things lol!

And yeah I was initially thinking the pacts in place of the marriage token, but I much prefer that like once you get to full hearts, you can make a pact with the demons. And then for all the characters, these different things give you different perks! I loooove that!

I also have zero game development experience, all of my knowledge comes only from playing games lol! I'd love to see any drawings you do, though!