#at some point she lives in a tree?

[malewifegradyruewen]

what even happens in kotlc. this is a genuine question i forgor

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

Both my parents actually suffer from HORRID emotional dysregulation and are prone to snapping and going into rages. My sister is the same way tbh. I am now realizing this is why they are constantly baffled by the question of whether or not I am mad at them.

I don't have external meltdowns.

I could. I don't let it happen.

I keep my rage on the inside and stay pretty quiet about it. It's just as strong as theirs [physically shaking nose bleed from high blood pressure kind of bad], but like as a kid I saw how terrifying it was to be around [dad breaking dishes, mom putting our lawn chairs into walls] and I just internalized that I wasn't going to wear that anger on the outside.

So my mother genuinely cannot tell if I am just being quiet or if I am silently hearing the dial-up noises of pure rage. This has lead her to both making strong and confident statements like "You are a pacifist who would never hurt a fly U.U" but also acting like I am secretly dangerous maybe... It's because she has never seen me snap.

She knows what her temper is like [throwing chairs through walls], she knows what my father's temper is like [pick up child and toss out door], and she can tell I am being tested, but she doesn't know what happens when I snap or where that breaking point is.

Her -perhaps unhinged- solution to this, my whole life, has been to do things that should obviously enrage me or shut me down completely, like ignoring important boundaries, repeatedly, punishing me for expressing emotions or needs at all, etc... And then to constantly ask me if I am angry with her when I get too quiet [right after near directly telling me to shut up].

It has occurred to me now, they have never once seen me lose my temper, so they literally just can't tell if I am angry at them. My sister is easy, my mother fights and screams with my sister constantly, my mother understands this. My mother doesn't have any grasp of feelings or boundaries that are not screamed at her [apparently, and I fear my sister is the same way]. Her and my sister are close despite constant fucking fighting because they understand each other.

They are trying to get me to engage the same way and it is not working. I realize now that this has been hard for them.

I was so successfully taught to suppress my emotions, by being punished for any outburst, that rage quiet looks the same as any other kind of quiet from the outside. To them anyway.

I did tell her. For the record. I used my words. I did tell her very calmly that my response to rage, in order to avoid doing the things that terrified me as a child, was to simply leave [the autistic urge to GTFO]. When a situation or person causes too much of the dial-up rage noise, I simply extract myself from that situation, up to and including never speaking to a person again. I explained this calmly. I explained it calmly 100 times and I explained that I explain myself calmly as my rage response 1-5 [also pretty much every other negative emotion tbh], and I told her that what came next was me simply opting out and fucking off. I told her this. I couldn't understand why she never took me seriously, or why she never fucking understood.

I couldn't understand what made her like this.

But it's the same problem I have with everyone else multiplied by a factor of 10.

If I am explaining myself calmly, they can't understand that it's actually serious or that I am actually upset. ESPECIALLY because they read me as "female" and women "aren't that rational" so if I am not screaming and crying about something, which I never do, people assume I can't be upset and it isn't serious.

And then after having my boundaries ignored too many times despite having calmly explained how and why it's a problem [shaking inside or not]... I leave. I leave and everyone gets upset like this is unexpected behaviour, even though I told them 50 times that is how I would respond if they kept doing *the thing.*

And for neurotypical people especially, they are expecting there to be a disconnect between what someone says they need or feel and what their actually boundaries and feelings are, and they expect the latter to be demonstrated with emotions. Telling them bluntly you do not function that way somehow never helps?

My mother isn't just looking for normal yelling or a few tears to know I am serious, whether or not I do those either [I don't], she's looking for an explosion to know there's a problem at all.

Fucked if I know how she proceeds through life this way in general or if this is just her expectation of her own kids???

And I couldn't get why my mother couldn't read my emotions and didn't seem to think I have any. It's because she's testing for the rage limit to see where my 'actual' limit is instead of taking my word for it. Never the fuck mind that she could simply *not* test at my boundaries instead of letting me have them. Separate issue.

I couldn't figure out what made her *like this*

She's expecting me to throw a giant meltdown violent tantrum at people when I have 'actually' had enough. Maybe she got away with those being like 5'4" in another time, but I am the size of the average man, I do not get to have giant screaming rages, whether or not people perceive me consciously as a woman, and least of all because a lot of people -at least unconsciously- read me as 'masculine' or at least always "they guy" of the situation compared to all other women and some men [bigger stronger and more rational, more able to just absorb the damage and let it go so the less rational screaming/crying one doesn't have to be dealt with]. Even if it was in me to be willing to terrify people [usually never], there are such limited instances where it wouldn't just blow back on me. Potentially very dangerously.

I am going to be the quiet calm one. You are going to have to let me use my words, bitch.

So she kept ignoring my boundaries until I had to cut her out of my life, and she probably doesn't understand and probably thinks it feels sudden -after 36 long years of bullshit- abrupt and unfair.

But I told her hundreds of times.

I probably should have just screamed at her.

[milkweedman]

I ended up needing to decant the exhaust dye when I put the next 2 ounces/56 grams in, which I still have not added back in, and the new fleece is already dark with color. I'm going to let it cook overnight regardless just because I think it's good practice but wow, buckthorn berries are crazy potent for a natural dye. This was like one scant double handful (I didn't weigh them RIP) of dried berries and I'd be surprised if I got less than 6 ounces (130 grams) of dyed wool out of it.

[dangerfractal]

I think it's safe to say that Paraphore's revolutionary message of radical compassion is NOT something that can be reapprorpiated by the status quo or subsumed into capitalism, because there's no way of presenting that game without the cub yiff without it being a completely different work

I don't know whether I'm saying that more political manifestos should be put in objectionable porn, or if more porn should have full on political manifestos in it, but maybe both.

Heavy spoilers under the cut, I recommend playing the whole game before reading but I'm not your mom

Every character in it is complicated, even the ones you don't meet. Someone who could almost be considered the main antagonist is no longer present in the story, gave a bunch of people religious trauma, but also genuinely did his best to help as many people as possible in spite of utterly irreconcilable political differences with them. Solidarity in spite of utter disgust, trying to save lives despite attesting to seeing them as sinners who would not repent. Trying to keep them from hell as long as he could.

Someone who is arguably the main antagonist of the story at first seems really creepy, but it turns out is just a kid who wants to be praised, who was abused into thinking the way he was was wrong, but he tries really really hard to be a good boy. In the end he dies, and there's nothing you can do to save him, whether he's a martyr or not.

Every character is an unreliable narrator, but it's hard to tell where they're lying to the other characters or to themselves. Even the player character is a hugely unreliable narrator. They have been trying to find some sort of satisfactory answer for everything for what is implied to be years. It's never stated explicitly, but if they're telling the truth at a certain part of the story it's been around 3 years. If they're not, it's been closer to 20. They've haven't seen another person for around 75

[eridan-ampora]

how many of the trolls lived in their original hives by the time the game started, around half?

[sufficientlylargen]

It always gets me that the name "Gandalf" literally just means "Wand-Elf" or "Stick-Elf". I'm imagining old Gondorians just being like:

Librarian: I saw that weird guy at the library again today.

Guard 1: What weird guy?

Librarian: The old guy with the beard? Kinda elfy-looking, apart from the beard?

Guard 1: Oh, with the big-ass stick?

Librarian: Yeah, looked like he was carrying an entire tree branch.

Guard 2: Yeah, that's the Stick Elf.

Guard 1: Hell yeah, I fuckin' love the Stick Elf.

Librarian: The "Stick Elf"?

Guard 2: He comes by every few years, usually after some weird book or other.

Librarian: Oh. Yeah, he wanted a treatise on goblin breeding habits.

Guard 2: Like, how they have sex? We have books on that?

Librarian: Yeah, turns out we do. I was as surprised as you are.

Guard 1: What'd the Stick Elf need a fuckin' goblin-fuckin' book for?

Librarian: I didn't ask. So you just call him "Stick Elf"?

Guard 2: I mean, he looks kinda elfy and he always has that stick, so, like, yeah.

Guard 1: Dude also has some fuckin' dope pipeweed.

Guard 2: Oh yeah, his pipeweed is awesome.

Librarian: How long has he been coming here?

Guard 2: Oh, for decades. He's, like, super old.

Guard 1: More like fuckin' centuries. Dude's old as balls.

Guard 2: Wait, really?

Guard 1: Yeah, my gran-gran used to talk about him. She loved his pipeweed too.

Librarian: So he's… an immortal pipeweed dealer?

Guard 2: I think he's just, like, a connoisseur. He doesn't sell it or anything. He just always has some really top-notch pipeweed on him.

Archivist: Oh, are we talking about Stick Elf?

Guard 1: Hell yeah we are!

Librarian: You know about the Stick Elf, too?

Archivist: Oh, totally. Stick-Elf's a super chill dude. Gave me some awesome pipeweed when I was maybe 12, and tee-bee-aitch I think I'm still a little buzzed from it.

Guard 1: What'd I tell ya, fuckin' dope pipeweed!

Archivist: Also he's really old.

Guard 1: Old as balls.

Librarian: Yeah, so Éodan and Jenniforomir were telling me.

Archivist: My grandpa used to tell me stories - he said one time he saw Stick Elf enter a smoke-ring contest.

Guard 1: Ooh, I'll bet he kicked fuckin' ass.

Archivist: Apparently the guy made an entire warship out of smoke and it flew around shooting down the other rings.

Librarian: And how much of this "fuckin' dope" pipeweed had your grandfather had by this point?

Guard 1: No no, that's totally plausible. Dude's got weird elf powers and shit for sure.

Archivist: He brought fireworks for the king's birthday one year, too.

Guard 1: Oh fuck, I forgot about those! Fuckin' incredible fireworks! Dragons and knights and glowy trees and shit! I was fuckin' 6 years old or something, they totally blew my mind. Hey Éodan, did you see that shit?

Guard 2: No, I think that's before I lived in Gondor.

Guard 1: Wait, you're not from here?

Guard 2: Oh, no, I grew up in Rohan. We moved here when I was, like, thirteen because my uncle Éojeff said he could get my dad a sweet job. And also that there were houses that didn't smell like horseshit.

Guard 1: Oh shit, are you related to Éojeff and Éosteve who run that æbleskiver stand on Norndîl St?

Guard 2: Yeah, they're my uncles!

Guard 1: Shit, they cook a fuckin' great æbleskiver!

Librarian: Ok, hold up a sec, "Stick Elf" can't possibly be his real name.

Guard 1: Why not?

Librarian: What? You think his parents named him in the hopes that he would carry around a fucking tree when he got older?

Guard 2: Maybe they gave him the tree when he was born!

Archivist: I don't think a baby could carry that stick.

Guard 1: You ever seen a baby hanging onto something? They're hella strong.

Archivist: It's not a strength thing, their hands are tiny. That staff is enormous!

Guard 1: My halberd's bigger 'n I am, I can hold it just fine.

Archivist: You're not a baby.

Librarian: Also why would elf parents name their kid "stick ELF"?! Presumably they know that their kid's going to be an elf!

Archivist: Is he actually an elf? I didn't think they grew beards.

Guard 1: How'd he get old as balls if he's not an elf?

Guard 2: His ears aren't that pointy. Maybe he's just a really old guy? Like, a Numémoriam or something?

Guard 1: Did you just say "Numémoriam"?

Guard 2: Nûnenorman? Munimõrbitan? Y'know, those guys like the king that can get super old.

Guard 1: You mean the fuckin' Númenóreans?

Guard 2: Yeah, the Númenóreums.

Archivist: Even the Númenóreans don't live THAT long.

Guard 1: Plus he carries that fuckin' stick around.

Guard 2: Wait, what does the stick have to do with it?

Guard 1: That's an elf thing. Y'know, trees and shit? Very elfy.

Librarian: Ok, look, but his parents naming him "Stick Elf" would be weird whether or not he's an elf. In fact, it's even weirder if he's not - what human names their kid "elf"?

Archivist: Huh. Yeah, you're right, he probably does have another name.

Guard 2: Yeah, I guess so.

Librarian: He's been coming here for decades and nobody's ever asked his real name?

Archivist: I dunno what to tell you, he's Stick Elf. Even his library card just says 'Stick Elf'.

Guard 1: Fuck yeah, the Stick Elf!

Guard 2: Maybe we could, like, ask him his name sometime?

Guard 1: Hey, look, Elrond's over there. He's old as balls too, maybe he knows?

Guard 2: Oh, we shouldn't interru-

Guard 1: HEY ELROND, YOU'RE OLD AS BALLS, RIGHT? WHAT'S THAT OLD ELF WITH THE STICK'S NAME?

Elrond (coming over): Do you mean an old man cloaked all in grey and blue, leaning on a rough-cut staff, who came to the great library this day?

Guard 1: Yeah, the Stick-Elf!

Guard 2: (Sorry to bother you, sir...)

Librarian: He's got to have a real name besides 'the Stick Elf', right?

Elrond: Indeed, for no elf is he. You speak of the wizard Olórin, wisest of the Maiar, older even than Eä itself. Many are his names in many countries: Tharkûn among the Dwarves; Incánus to the south; Mithrandir he is called among my people, the Grey Pilgrim.

Librarian: Oh.

Elrond: And here in the North he is called Stick-Elf.

Librarian: Oh.

Guard 1: Fuck yeah!

[autumnday19]

Trying to embarrass my mom out of nationalism. Earlier she unironically said we should wrap the Christmas tree in red white and blue ribbons and I full body laughed in her face

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

Watching a trans guy react to transvestigator posts and I havent really looked too close at any of that for my own sanity but fuck dude

I need to go lie down

[authorwithissues]

.

[sinner-as-saint]

stick to me, like caramel

Retired!Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Summary: Sergeant Barnes has retired, and moved as far away as possible from the superhero life. He’s still in touch with some of his friends, but he never asks them to visit. Nor does he ever leave the quaint, warm small town he’s found himself in, or the spacious home he has, nestled between mountains and dense pine woods. Bucky lives a quiet life, away from danger, guns and bullets, aliens and wizards, and all the other noises. He likes it here. It’s calm, nice, and quiet. Nothing stresses him out, nothing bothers him. Nothing, except a certain neighbour of his. She torments him, in the best ways. And Bucky’s not sure how long he can resist her. 

Themes: age gap (I mean he’s a century old), smut, mild primal play, FLUFF, mild degrading kink, angst, soft!bucky, mild praise kink, HEA 

Keep walking. Keep walking. Keep walking. 

He chanted in his head as he walked down the almost empty road, the sun was gonna set soon and most people were all inside their cosy homes, the elder ones at least. The young people hung out mostly in parking lots, or they drove up the mountains. So, not many people about. Which was one of the many reasons he decided to spend his retirement here. The roads were always empty at this time, and Bucky liked silent, long walks during sunset hours. 

It calmed him down. That was it. No other reason. Of course he didn’t go on walks at this specific time just so he would run into you. Of course he didn’t choose this specific road for his daily walks only because this was where your little bookstore was situated. And of course he didn’t pick this exact time to go on his walks only because he knows this is also the time when you close up your store and walk home – completely unbeknownst to the fact that Bucky frequently followed you from a distance, making sure you got home safe. 

Okay, it sounded a little stalker-ish. But he didn’t mean any harm. Plus he lived right next to you. Granted there was a little uphill walk from your house to his, but still. He was bound to take the same path anyway. 

He didn’t even know when exactly this little infatuation stemmed out of nowhere. Perhaps it happened on the very first day, when he woke up in the morning and stepped out on his balcony to take in the breathtaking view of the foggy woods, the rich veridian pine trees, the dark mountains, the rain clouds, when he suddenly spotted a bright red spot moving along the edge of the woods not far from his home. Bucky squinted and a few moments later realised he was staring at a young woman, wearing a red coat, who was frolicking about, picking flowers. 

Bucky couldn’t help but smile at the mundane task. It was peaceful to watch, so he kept watching until he noticed the woman was making her way back. He watched as she got closer and closer, until she stopped, looked up right at him, and waved. 

Bucky waved back awkwardly, only then realising that the woman he’d been spying on was his next door neighbour. That was the first time Bucky saw you. And ever since, you’d been basically living in his head. 

His little crush on you only got worse when, by the end of his first week since moving there, you showed up at his door and brought him a basket filled with all sorts of baked goods, muffins and cookies, which smelled divine. Bucky accepted the basket a little clumsily because he was nervous, and made small talk but really, he was freaking out because you were even more beautiful up close. 

“I’m your neighbour!” You announced, smiling up at him. Again, wearing that lovely red coat. Your hood was down this time though. 

Bucky nodded, smiling sheepishly, “Yeah, I saw you the other day.” 

You turned and pointed at one area not far from Bucky’s property, “The edible flowers I love grow around there, and I usually pick them in the morning.” 

Edible flowers. He didn’t care what you were doing there. Picking flowers or worshipping at the altar of some ancient deity. All he cared about was that you were here talking to him. “I see.” 

“I use them in my baking, my customers love them!” 

Well he was thankful that his lack of social and communication skills hadn’t scared you off just yet. But also, customers? “Customers?” He questioned. 

“I own the only bookstore in this little town.” You said proudly. “Not many readers though, I’m afraid.” You chuckled, “So I bribe them with muffins, cookies, and tea.” You explained, “Stop by sometime, I’d love to show you around!” 

Bookstore. Muffins. Cookies. Tea. Pretty girl. Retirement wasn’t so bad afterall. “I’ll… I’ll make sure to visit soon.” 

He never did. 

But he did watch you from a distance ever since that day. It was weird at first, but then it became part of his normal. Knowing what time you were up and about upon noticing the smoke that came out of the chimney of your home – which was a beautiful, old, rustic, wood and stone house. He’d heard from one of the kind old men at the pub that the house belonged to your grandma before she passed. She left it to you in the will. 

Other older folks at the pub told him more about you. How you had no family members around. Some estranged siblings but they were out of the picture, and who knows where in the world. Your parents were not in the picture either. Some even said that your late grandmother had left you all her money, which was why your entire family envied you and shunned you out basically.

His heart broke a little when he heard that. Sweet girl like you deserved nothing less than a loving family. But you had friends. He often saw you out and about, at stores, at the diner or restaurants for brunch, at coffee shops, at the florist, always surrounded by a group of giggling women. 

Other details he found out on his own the more he spied on you. Like how you had your own little walled garden in your seemingly endless backyard, growing your own vegetables and herbs. 

He knew what time you left to go open up your store each morning because he would always hear you yell in a cheery voice, ‘Bye, House!’ whenever you stepped out of your metal gates. 

He knew that you often left out food for wild bunnies to come eat in your backyard. He knew exactly on which days of the week you went into the woods to get those edible flowers. He knew what time you got home, he knew all your favourite songs because you would play them often in your kitchen and his super soldier hearing would pick it up easily. 

He knew so much about you, yet so little. He wanted to know more, but he was always so nervous to step into your bookstore and talk to you. Or, on the rare occasions when he found himself at the grocery store at the same time as you, he’d get out of there so fast it was almost funny. 

He was well above a hundred years old, stronger than the average male on this planet, and yet his cute neighbour made him weaker than anything ever had. There was a time, lifetimes ago, when flirting with a pretty girl came naturally to him. But now… he was a different man. So he decided he’d only watch you from a distance. And yearn. And pine. And long for your attention. 

He thought he’d spend the rest of his days being tormented by the sound, the sight, and the mere thoughts of you. Always watching from far away, never being brave enough to reach out. 

But things changed that one day you reached out. 

Bucky was in his backyard, building himself a new shelf. He needed one for his kitchen. All those years, he’d survived in empty, temporary houses and apartments. But now, this was much more permanent and he wanted it to feel like home. So he needed things. Lots of things. Like furniture. But he hated shopping for them. So since he was surrounded by a seemingly endless forest, containing lots of wood he could use, he decided to make himself useful and build his own stuff. 

So far he’d built himself a couple of chairs, a coffee table, two bedside tables, and now he found himself in need of a nice shelf for his kitchen. So there he was, being a lumberjack for the day, when he heard his doorbell ringing. 

Bucky knew immediately who it must be. 

You. 

He dropped his axe, and tried to get all the sawdust off him while he marched towards his front door. His heart only skipping a beat or two as he opened his door and found you standing on the other side of it, looking as cheerful as ever. 

“Hello, neighbour.” You greeted him. Not wearing your pretty red coat this time he noticed. 

“Hey,” He said, sounding more stoic than he intended. 

You quickly explained why you were at his doorstep so late in the evening. Behind you, the sun was setting and it was getting rather dark. “The heater in my living room isn’t working well. I was wondering if you could come check it out for me.” 

Bucky wasted no time in saying, “Sure.” 

Then he followed you to your house. 

He had always admired your house’s exterior. The slate grey stone, the wooden accents, the large windows and their bright flowers in the window boxes. The low hedge that wrapped around your property, the wrought iron double gates, it was all so… out of a fairytale looking. Compared to his well hidden log home that blended so well with the environment that often you wouldn’t notice it. 

But as much as he liked the exterior, the interior of your home blew his mind. It was so… home-y. He could smell some sort of freshly baked goods. And it was heavenly. Everything inside your home was vintage looking. Every furniture, every trinket, every painting and sculpture that looked like they cost a fortune. 

Then he realised, this was your grandmother’s home. Of course everything in it was old. So he tried to find bits and pieces of you everywhere he looked. And he did. New books on the bookshelf near the entrance that looked like it was older than he was. New vinyls hanging on the wall amongst the old ones. Fresh flowers in old vases in your foyer. And there might be so much more but he couldn’t exactly be a creep and stare for too long. So he followed you as you led him to your living room. 

He would have admired your living room a little longer, but then even he could feel how much colder this room was compared to the rest of the house. So he got to work immediately, kneeling by the heater. He knew how to fix it, it was easy enough with his metal hand. But he also didn’t wanna be too quick. 

“So,” He cleared his throat while pretending to be busy with the old-fashioned heater, “Old man down the street told me you had no family in this town.” 

Yeah, real smooth Bucky. He cursed himself. 

“Yup!” You answered, like he asked you about the weather instead. 

Bucky looked up and found you sitting on your couch, legs crossed, like a spoiled little thing while he knelt on your floor fixing your heater for you. He wanted to know more, so he asked, “And is that by choice or…?” 

You sighed, then told Bucky the truth. “I am the youngest. My siblings and I never got along when we were kids. I spent years thinking surely something will change when we get older, but no.” It was a little sad talking about it, but nothing you couldn’t handle. “Then mom and dad separated and they each went their own way. Last I heard my father was onto his third wife, and my mother was backpacking around the world with some of her friends. All my siblings left home one by one. Then when I left for uni I made the decision to never go back to that empty house.” 

Bucky stopped pretending to work on the heater. He’d fixed it, so now he sat next to it, back against the wall as he watched you. He wanted to gather you in his arms and never let you go. 

“I would’ve figured something out.” You said, with a determined smile. “I always wanted to move to a small town, maybe even a coastal one. But then as I was finishing up my final year, I got a phone call one day. It was my grandma, and she was sick and needed assistance.” Another soft smile, this one sadder. “It felt like a sign. And it was the right thing to do. So I moved here. And lost contact with my family, there was complete radio silence even after grandma passed.” 

Bucky looked away for a moment, the thought of you going through all that alone was heartbreaking. But you were so brave. 

You continued, “So yeah, I’ve been on my own ever since. And I love this place, these people.” You looked right at him and added, “And handy neighbours who fix my heater.” 

Bucky smiled. “All fixed.” He grunted as he got up from the floor. 

“Thank you!” 

You walked Bucky to the front door, then just as he was about to step outside you called out, “Oh Bucky, wait! I almost forgot.” 

Bucky watched how you ran back inside, towards your kitchen and then ran back towards him with a little basket. 

“Here,” You handed him the basket filled with sweet smelling stuff. “I baked them this morning.” 

Bucky peeked and found a bunch of chocolate chip cookies. He looked back at you and found you smiling at him. He smiled back then rolled his eyes as he stepped out of your home, groaning, “Gonna make me fat with all your sweet stuff.” 

You giggled, leaning against your doorframe as Bucky stepped down the steps of your porch. “You can always work out more. You know, chop more wood in the mornings, or run by the lake more.” 

Bucky stopped on the last step and turned to face you. His heart beating a little faster as the realization sunk in. “You stalk me.” He sounded like he was teasing you. 

You smirked, “Don’t you? You think I don't know you follow me home almost everyday?” 

“Alright, fine.” Bucky rolled his eyes again. “But you stalk me too.” 

“You’re loud when you chop wood in the morning. It wakes me up early.” You argued, eyeing him up and down, shamelessly. Gods, he was a handsome man. Even more so with that tight long sleeved shirt and dark jeans. 

“I see.” He mumbled. “You like the early morning view?” He caught himself asking before he could think about it twice. What? He knew he looked good. He wanted to know if you appreciated the view. 

You gave him another sly smirk as you answered, “Very much.” 

He smiled at you. Then nodded and said, “Good night, neighbour. Thanks for the goodies.” 

“Good night, Bucky.” 

— 

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of light rain hitting your bedroom window, and the muffled repeated sound of an axe hitting wood. You smiled before you even opened your eyes. Waking up to the sound of rain was always delightful. But the sound of someone chopping wood had recently become your new favourite. 

Bucky. 

You pulled back the covers and quickly walked over to your bedroom window. You peeled back the curtains and found Bucky in his backyard. 

Shirtless. 

You froze. 

The sight of him there, wearing nothing but his usual jeans and boots, axe in his hands, the metal arm glistening almost as much as his damp, muscular chest. Fuck. He looked divine. His longish hair was damp as well, a few strands falling over his face, and the muscles in his arm and back flexing each time he brought the axe down. 

You were mesmerised by the sight of him there, with the dark woods as background. The light rain falling over him. And the blue of his eyes staring right at you– 

You gasped and quickly shut the curtains again when you realised he’d looked up and caught you staring at him. Your face felt hot as you hid behind the heavy curtains. Your heart raced a little faster and you felt like a little kid who got caught doing something you shouldn’t. Shit. 

Oh well. Whatever. He knew you watched him. 

So you peeled the curtains back again and found him smirking at you. He lifted his right hand, waving at you like any good neighbour would. You smiled and waved back, then forced yourself to look away from his gorgeous face and body, and get away from the window to get ready for your day ahead. 

That image of him chopping wood in the rain didn’t leave your head the entire morning. 

—

Bucky didn’t know what exactly made him do it. Maybe it was the interaction you two had had that morning. The heat in your eyes as you watched him, the way your lips parted just so slightly, and he was certain he could see how you were breathing heavily just looking at him. 

He’d been smiling to himself all morning when he thought about that brief interaction. The way you hid when he caught you was… cute. But you went away so quickly. He wanted to see you again, he wanted more. 

So perhaps that’s why he finally found himself walking into your cosy little bookstore. It was exactly what he was expecting it to be. Dark interior with dimmed lights. Spacious middle area with little reading nooks scattered all over the place. Dark, velvet couches and bright pillows. A tea and a coffee station right next to each other by the large window, and baskets filled with baked goods. Muffins and cookies. He could smell whatever fancy candles you must have burning somewhere.  

“Bucky!”

He turned around and found you smiling at him, a tiny book in your hand. He smiled back, and decided you were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen in his long life. Dressed in a simple black dress and dark red cardigan, you looked… even more delicious than all the things you baked. He was thankful there was no one in the store to witness how he checked you out shamelessly. 

“Hey,” He said, then looked around and commented, “Nice place.” 

“Thanks,” You walked up to him. 

Stopping right in front of him, close enough that he could smell your perfume and it was driving him insane. It was something citrus and feminine, reminding him of blood oranges, pomegranates, and delicate flowers. And it made him want to pull you closer. But he shoved his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket instead. 

“It was my grandma’s.” You explained, and he listened with interest. “She left me quite… a lot in the will so I don't really have to worry about my livelihood. Which I’m very grateful for. And even though it’s not great business, I decided to keep running the store just to keep her memory alive.” 

Bucky smiled again at how kind you truly were. “That’s nice of you.” 

You gave him another pretty smile. “I have some loyal customers, they come to buy books every few weeks. But most of all, people like to come here just to read. Or hang out. So I always have warm drinks and sweet treats ready.” Then you turned to him and asked politely, “What brings you here? I didn’t quite picture you as a guy who reads.” You teased. 

His voice was laced with sarcasm as he said, “And I didn't picture you as a woman who spies on her shirtless neighbours, but here you are.” 

He could tell that caught you off guard. Maybe you’d thought he would never bring it up. But, Bucky decided, it was fun to tease you. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” You replied, giving him that look he loved. The innocent one, with mischief hidden somewhere. 

“Oh yeah?” He stepped closer to you, just a little bit. “Did you forget I saw you this morning? Making eyes at me?” 

You scoffed, “Well, if you’re gonna put on a show…” 

“And how’d you like it? The show?” He asked, stepping closer again. And you took a step back this time, and you two danced this dance until he almost had you cornered between two shelves. 

You gasped dramatically, “Bucky barnes. Are you flirting with me?” Your back hit the shelf behind you. “Aren’t you, like, a hundred years old?” 

Bucky laughed as pinned you to the bookshelf. His metal hand coming up to grab onto the wood, caging you between him and the shelf as he slowly slid his leg in between yours. “Yeah, I am. What about it? It didn’t stop you from spying on me.” He noted the way you spread your legs to make room for his. “I know you want me.” He said, pressing his leg up in between yours. 

You gasped again. Then chuckled and said, “Don’t be inappropriate right in front of grandma’s portrait, you weirdo.” Then you gently hit him on the head with the tiny book you’d been holding. 

Bucky frowned then looked around, searching for the portrait. And it was right behind him. A large portrait of an old woman in a gilded frame, staring down at the two of you sternly. 

Sorry, grandma. 

He grabbed you and easily pulled you away, pinning you to the next closest bookshelf he found. His leg sliding in between yours again. “Now that grandma’s not watching,” He said, making you laugh. Fuck. He’d do anything to keep you laughing and happy like that. “Wanna tell me where I can be inappropriate then? Want me to take you out?” He asked, then couldn’t resist leaning in to kiss your neck, discreetly inhaling your perfume like it was the only thing he’d ever wanted to do. Suddenly he wanted your scent everywhere. On his clothes. In his truck. On his bedsheets and pillows. “Is that what you’d like?” He asked, pulling away to look into your eyes. “A date? Where I spend the entire evening waiting and figuring out if you’d let me kiss you or not?” 

“You won’t have to wait the entire evening.” You smirked at him. “I’d let you kiss me anytime.” 

Fuck. His heart skipped a beat. 

“Can I kiss you now?” 

“Yes.” You leaned in, sliding your hands around his neck to pull him closer. Bucky’s brain stopped working for a second or two as you kissed him. 

He melted into your kiss. His hands grabbed you at the waist to pull you closer as he deepened the kiss. Your hands slid into his hair and he held you tightly against him, pressed up against his firm body as his mouth moved perfectly against yours. His tongue slipped into your mouth, making you moan into the kiss as he slowly slipped his metal hand up your dress. 

You gasped at his cold touch. His lips left yours momentarily to kiss along your jaw, and down your neck, nibbling on your skin and inhaling your addicting scent, making you sigh in pleasure as his hand found its way past your underwear. 

“Can I touch you?” He mumbled into your ear, “Please say yes, baby. You’re killing me.” 

You couldn’t help but giggle, then whispered, “Yeah, you can touch me.” 

Bucky groaned as he moved your underwear aside and ran his knuckles along your wet slit, smearing your wetness around. He chuckled when he felt that you were just as wet and ready for him as he hoped you’d be. 

“See? You do want me.” 

You whined at the sound of his cocky voice. You couldn’t help but look down to see his hand moving gently against your body as he teased you, his metal hand sliding in and out from in between your legs, disappearing under your dress each time his fingers dove in to tease your clit. Fuck, just the sight of his hand sent pleasant shivers down your back. You also noticed the growing bulge in his pants. You bit your lip at the sight of it, then looked up at him. He was already staring at you. So you silently pleaded, begging for more. 

Bucky wanted more too. He pushed his two metal fingers inside you with ease and felt your warm walls immediately welcoming him in. He held your stare as he curled his fingers inside of you, hitting all the right spots which made you weak in the knees. You bucked your hips against his hand, still staring into his eyes, and he chuckled. “Does that feel good, baby?” 

You nodded, biting down on your lip to keep yourself from moaning. Because the store was empty, but anyone could walk in. They wouldn’t see you, but you didn’t want them to hear you either. 

“Yeah? You want more?” Bucky asked, his fingers moving in and out of you perfectly. “Want me to taste you? Can I do that?” He mumbled and kissed down your neck, biting and licking your skin around your collar bones. 

Meanwhile you lazily reached for him, palming him through his jeans and feeling his erection. You smirked to yourself as he grunted the moment you touched him. “All that for me?” You teased him. 

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh into the crook of your neck. “Now who’s being inappropriate?” 

You giggled, “You started this when–,” 

The sound of the tiny bell above the entrance of your store ringing cut you off. You both froze then immediately pulled away from each other. You fixed your clothes quickly and gave Bucky a smirk before you went back to the front and greeted your customer. 

Bucky couldn’t let himself be seen yet. Not until the raging hard on he had would calm down first. So he walked around, hiding behind bookshelves as he perused them. And once he was safe, he walked to the front and found you scanning some books before putting them in a bag for the customer – she was an old lady who lived near the lake. Bucky often saw her when he went for his frequent runs. 

Bucky grabbed a random book and sat down at one of the many reading nooks. It hid him enough that he could stare at you leisurely, without being caught by Old Lake Lady. He could tell you felt his eyes on you, because you’d send quick glances his way even as you engaged in a conversation with the old lady about her cats and dogs. 

Just minutes ago you were moaning in his ear with his fingers inside you, and here you were now, being nice and warm to a customer. 

Bucky had to hide his smirk, at least until the lady was gone. Soon she’d wrapped up her stories, paid for her books, and left, leaving you two alone again. Bucky got up from the couch and approached you. 

“Come over tonight,” He said. “I’ll make you dinner.” 

He watched how you seemed surprised. Then rolled his eyes when you asked, “You can cook?” 

He answered, proudly, “I’m over a hundred years old, you learn a thing or two when you’ve been alive that long.” A pause, then he added, “Plus recipe books help too.” 

You laughed. “Okay, see you tonight then.” 

“See you.” 

Bucky left you with a wink. 

— 

When you got home that evening, you took over an hour to get ready for dinner. You caught yourself smiling a lot just thinking of Bucky and how he touched you earlier… 

You sighed, impatient to see him again. But you didn’t want to seem too eager and show up at his house too early so you found something to keep you busy until it was a reasonable time to knock on his door. Plus, you wanted to bring him something nice so you ended up gathering flowers from your yard and made him a little bouquet. 

It ended up being a pastel coloured bunch of flowers, pinks and lilacs with some white here and there. You decided it was cute enough for a first date. Was it even a date? Or was it just a casual dinner? 

Before you could overthink yourself to death and find a way to get out of this, you grabbed a light cardigan and walked over to Bucky’s house. 

Bucky answered after your very first knock. Almost too quickly. 

You couldn’t help but tease him about it. “You were waiting by the door, weren’t you?” 

“No.” He argued, “I’m just really quick to get the door. Don’t like to keep my guests waiting.” 

“Sure,” You smirked as you walked into his home. Bucky shut the door behind you and turned to face you. “Here,” You handed him the bunch of flowers, “I picked them myself.” 

You expected him to make some sassy comment, but he didn’t. “I’ve never been given flowers before.” He said, looking down at them. And you felt really proud. “Are they edible too?” 

You laughed as you followed him further in. “No, they’re not. But they will bring some life and colour to your home.” 

Bucky chuckled as he grabbed a vase and filled it with water to put the flowers in. “Are you saying my house looks lifeless and dark?” 

“No,” You took a seat at the kitchen island table, and watched him as he placed the flower stems one by one into the vase. “I’m just saying it needs some colour. But I love the sombre and broody vibe you went for. It’s very… retired superhero-esque.” 

And it was indeed. Dark floors, dark furniture. It was spacious and luxurious, with minimal furniture. You didn’t know if the minimalism was intentional or not. But either way, it suited Bucky. The large windows made up for the empty spaces. It allowed a lot of the outside in. Especially the rich, dark woods. 

He gave you a playful glare before he grabbed two wine glasses and asked you, “You like red or white?” 

“Red, please.” 

He handed you a glass of red, clinked your glasses together then went back to the stove. “You’re welcome to snoop if you want.” He said, then heard you get off the stool at the island table and heard your footsteps walking around. 

Bucky’s house was much closer to the woods than yours, and sometimes it felt like his house – much like him – preferred to blend in with the surroundings rather than stand out. 

The kitchen was your favourite part so far. It was like a glass prism. No walls, but the woods hid it well from the other neighbours. And right now, as the sun set and the sky turned pinkish orange, it flooded the entire kitchen with those same colours. 

Bucky let you snoop, and turned to the stove where he was concocting something that smelt divine. He glanced at you now and then, and noted the way you took in his home. The ground floor had an open concept look. So you could see the living room, the foyer, the large staircase – which led to the upper level where all the bedrooms and bathrooms were, the small conservatory, all could be seen from the kitchen. 

He was rather proud of his home. But you weren’t saying anything yet. Did you not like it? Bucky wondered silently as he flipped the veggies he’d been grilling. “You like it?” He couldn’t help but ask. 

“I do!” 

Bucky looked up and found you in the middle of his dimly lit living room. You did a slow, mindless twirl as you took in all the random art he had mounted on his walls. Bucky was mesmerised. You, there, in that pretty dress – it messed with his head in the best way. 

“What made you move here?” 

Your question caught him off guard. He knew why he moved here, but he didn’t know if he could put it into words in a coherent way. But he did his best. Dinner was done, so he spoke as he plated everything. 

“I had been thinking about retiring for years now.” He sighed. “I didn't wanna lose myself. Again. Or have to watch my friends die. Again.” He let out a sad chuckle. “You'd think I would be immune to losing people by now. But it hurts the same every time. Plus going on a mission and not knowing if everyone would make it back… It messes with your head.” He said. “So I decided to leave. I was worried it would make me seem like a coward. But then I realised, I shouldn’t care.” 

He heard you coming back into the kitchen. 

“Plus, it's hard to blend in when you’re me, you know?” He could see you in his periphery, getting closer to where he was. “After years of being who I was, and doing what I did, there’s not many places where I could go that would feel normal.” 

Without saying a word, Bucky watched how you placed your glass down and came over to help him plate everything onto two dinner plates. He gave you a faint smile then continued, while the two of you moved around his kitchen gracefully. As if this was a daily thing. 

“Then one day I decided to leave that life. But I still didn’t have a place to call home so I drove around, traveled and tried to find somewhere that was calm, and welcoming. Somewhere I could just be me, and not… what I was.” He paused, remembering the day he first came to this town. “I happened to be driving through here one day, and the weather got really bad. The rain was horrendous and the people I met at the pub told me it was dangerous to continue driving in a weather like that.” He chuckled at the memory, “And I told them, I’ve been out on missions in worse weather. Rain or sleet was nothing, I’ve been out during hurricanes and snowstorms.” 

Your heart hurt for a moment, thinking about Bucky having to brave all sorts of storms. 

Bucky continued, “Then, one of the old guys at the pub grabbed me by the shoulders and said ‘Well, you don’t have to be out in storms anymore’ and he offered me a place to stay for the night. And when I woke up the next day, I realised that no one cared about who I was or what I had done in the past. They were just kind and welcoming to me like I was a regular guy.” He looked up at you, smiled and said, “So I bought the land and the house here and stayed.” 

You smiled back at him. “And that’s why you’re friends with all the old guys at the pub.” 

“Yeah,” He added, smiling, “Although I am older than all of them.” 

You laughed, and watched him as he placed the plates down. Once his hands were free, you grabbed one of them and squeezed it tight in your grip until he looked at you. His hand was warm in yours. And you decided that you liked holding his hand. You wanted to do it more often.

“You did the right thing by choosing your peace, Bucky.” You said, looking into his pretty eyes. “It's not selfish nor cowardly to want to keep yourself safe. To put yourself first. You helped save this world so many times. You deserve this break. I hope you know that.” 

Bucky smiled and brought your intertwined hands up to his lips. Kissing your knuckles, he whispered, “Thank you.” 

He looked so sincere and adorable, you almost pulled him in for a kiss right there and then. But instead you calmed yourself down and admired the beautiful man in front of you. His longish hair was nice and dry this time, and looked like he’d run his fingers through it many times. And he was wearing a white button up shirt too, something you just now noticed, with the sleeves rolled up till his elbows. The metal arm glistened in the golden light of the sunset. 

Gods, he was beautiful. Who could ever be mean to this man? 

To bring you both back to that playful mood you said, “Well, neighbour. I was promised dinner. And I’m kinda hungry.” 

Bucky laughed and gently let go of your hand. He asked you if you wanted to dine in the conservatory, but you said the island table in the kitchen was fine. Plus, the view of the sky, the woods, and the mountains all at once was to die for. 

“I think I’m in love with your house.” You said at some point during dinner, holding back moans because Bucky’s cooking was amazing. 

He gave you a playful look as he sipped on his wine and replied, “Come visit anytime.” 

“Maybe I will.” 

“Maybe you should.” 

You teased, “You just want me to bring you muffins and cookies, don’t you?” 

Bucky laughed and said, “I’m having to work out twice as much ever since you started feeding me those sugary stuff. Gotta stay fit if I want you to keep looking at me like that.” 

Your face felt hot when he said that. Okay, so maybe you were not being subtle when looking at him. Oh, god forbid a girl checks out her hot neighbour. You quickly changed the topic after that, not wanting him to know just how much his words and deep voice was affecting you. 

You two talked about life in the small town, about the places you’d travelled to before moving here, Bucky made you laugh with his ridiculous stories about how people tend to come knocking on his door whenever they need help with moving stuff. Or how people in the neighbourhood just assumed he liked chopping wood so much they just pulled up in their own trucks to pick up some or they called him and asked him to deliver logs to their houses. 

“Thankfully I have the truck,” He said, chuckling, “Otherwise I think I’d be seen carrying logs around on my shoulders for delivery.” 

You giggled at the thought of him doing that. Then you realised, “I didn’t know you had a truck. I guess I’ve only ever seen you out on walks.” 

He nodded, refilling your wine glass. “Yeah I don’t use it a lot though, I just drive up the mountains sometimes when I want to be alone. Plus the view from up there is insane.” Then he paused, thinking, and said, “I’ll take you up there, on a drive someday. If you want.” 

“I’d love that.” You said, smiling from behind your wine glass. 

–

After dinner you offered to help clean up, but Bucky politely refused. “Carry on snooping,” He said, “I’ll just load the dishwasher and come join you.” He refilled your wine glass one more time and sent you off. 

You didn’t put up a fight, you wanted to see more of his home. So a short walk later, you found yourself in the large, circular conservatory. There were some couches about, a small dining table for four, and some plants and rugs. It was so cosy, it reminded you of your store. Minus the colours, because everything in here was dark green, or grey, or dark brown. But you didn’t mind it. 

You admired Bucky’s backyard, which blended into the woods. You saw the chopping block where he chopped wood almost every morning. And you could see your house from here, part of it at least. Especially your bedroom window. 

“That’s a pretty dress. I’m sorry I didn't say it earlier.” Bucky said as he walked into the conservatory as well, his own wine glass in hand. 

And you were certain it wasn't just the wine that made your blood rush. You gave him a little twirl which made him chuckle. “Thanks,” You said, facing him once again. “I wore it just for you.” It was true. You had chosen the dark blue dress only because the moment you saw it in your closet, it reminded you of Bucky’s eyes. 

“Yeah?” He held your stare as he made his way over to you, placing his glass down on the small dining table on the way. He stopped right in front of you, letting his eyes roam all over you before he said, “Will you take it off for me as well?” 

The wine gave you manic confidence, so you grabbed him by the waist and pulled him into you. “Is that what you want?” 

Bucky’s eyes were intense as he stared at you. You finished your wine and set your glass down. 

“I do.” Bucky said. 

You spoke in a cocky tone, “Then why do I have to do all the work?” 

He chuckled, “Come here then.” He pinned you to the nearest surface, the cold glass door of the conservatory which led to the backyard. He knew it was locked so he didn’t have to worry. “Let’s finish what we started earlier, yeah?” 

He leaned closer, chest pressing against yours leaving no space in between. He waited for a moment, silently asking if this was okay. And upon seeing you wanted this as much as he did, Bucky leaned in for a kiss. A proper one, a hungry one. 

His rough facial hair scratched your skin, his teeth nibbled and bit your lips. His hands roaming all over your body before he slid the straps of your dress down your arms, letting your dress bunch around your waist. Your dress didn’t require a bra so you were half naked in front of him in no time. 

He kissed you ravenously, pulling you closer. Pouring everything he felt into the kiss. Desire, warmth, longing, lust. He couldn’t get enough. 

“Bucky…” You gasped against his lips, you couldn’t wait any longer, “I want you.” Breathing fast, you tried to pull him closer, but this time he wouldn’t budge. 

“Turn around,” He mumbled softly, pulling away a little to give you room to turn. He’d thought he would take his time and maybe get up to his bedroom and make sweet love to you. But fuck, the sight of you in that pretty dress was driving him insane. Again. He couldn’t wait. 

You turned, facing the glass door and waited. The sky above was yet to turn black completely. It was that pretty dark blue colour. And the stars were starting to show. And everything was perfect. You brought your hands up to your chest, not wanting to press your bare body to the cold glass. 

But Bucky didn’t like that. He pressed against your back. Your bare skin against the cool fabric of his shirt. He grabbed your wrists in his metal hand and pinned them above your head, stretching your torso in a way that had you whining already, and he had barely touched you yet. He whispered into your ear, “Keep them there for me.” So gently, his deep voice made you tremble. 

You nodded, then he shoved his warm hand in between your legs and touched you where you desperately wanted him to. Where you needed him since earlier today. You whined and trembled, your bare chest pressing against the cool glass when he slid a finger in, fucking you with it while he whispered into your ear, “You’re so wet for me. Have you been like that all throughout dinner? Hmm?” He cooed. “While you sat across from me, looking all sweet and nice, were you just dripping for me all along?” 

Fuck. Who knew he had such a foul mouth? 

“Bucky,” You whimpered, “Please.” 

He chuckled, his finger moving in and out of you in a way that made you move your hips, demanding more but he wouldn’t give it to you yet. “Aww, baby. Poor you.” His deep voice made his chest rumble against your back. “I should punish you for not telling me about this little situation earlier.” 

Your dress was hanging on to your body around your waist, Being half naked while he was still fully dressed made this even dirtier. You were moaning by now, thanking all the gods that Bucky didn’t have any other neighbours. 

“Tell me.” He demanded, sliding another finger inside you and making your body squirm and grind against him. “How long have you been this wet, baby?” 

“Oh damn you.” You were embarrassingly wet at this point, and the sounds your body made as he finger-fucked you were lewd. But you couldn’t get enough. “Ever since we were interrupted at the store earlier today.” 

His lips brushed against the back of your neck as he spoke. “You’ve been thinking about me all day then? Huh? Have you been thinking about what could’ve happened if we weren’t interrupted earlier? About how I would’ve fucked you nice and hard against that bookshelf? Hmm?” 

“Yes…” You whimpered as he kept fucking you with his fingers even as you came, trembling against him. His fingers slid in and out of you with ease now. “I thought about you, about us, all day.” You whispered quietly, your warm breath fogging up the cold glass in front of you. 

He didn’t care that you came already. He wanted more. So he reached deeper inside you, curling his fingers just enough to make you mutter incoherent things. 

“And what did you do? Did you touch yourself after I left? Or did you rush home and take care of it?” He asked, “Or did you wait till now?” 

“Please…” You begged. “I waited, I promise.” 

“Oh?” He chuckled, slowing down his movements purposely. “You waited, huh?” He playfully bit on your exposed shoulder. 

“Yes…” You whined. “I did. Cause I wanted you to touch me and make me feel good. Please, Bucky, make it feel good.” 

“Oh baby,” He whispered, kissing around your ear, along your jaw. “I’ve got you.

Bucky pulled away for a brief moment. You couldn’t see him, but you could hear him undoing his trousers. And moments later, he was rubbing the tip of his cock against your wet folds. You shivered in pleasure.

“Yes…” You panted. 

“I’m gonna make it feel good, okay?” He mumbled into your ear as he pushed his cock into you, making you cry out loud as he stretched you out. 

It had been a while since you got laid. So Bucky felt huge inside you. You moaned as his fingers found your clit again, rubbing it in sync with his thrusts. His metal hand left your wrists and came down to grab you by the waist, holding you against him as he sped up into you, fucking you just like how you hoped he would. Fast. Deep. Hungrily. 

He dipped his head into the crook of your neck and licked, and bit on your skin as he fucked into you relentlessly, earning more and more moans out of you each time his cock stroked your walls. “You feel so fucking good, you know that? My pretty girl…” 

You moaned quietly, shamelessly, your body slamming into the glass with each one of his thrusts, and fuck if it didn’t turn you on more. 

“Tight little thing, aren’t you? Gripping me like you’re never gonna let go,” He chuckled in that cocky way you loved. “I’m right here, baby. I’ve got you now.” He moaned against your ear and the sound sent shivers down your back. “Whenever you want me to make you feel good, I’ll do it. You hear me? I’ll take care of you, don’t you worry.” 

You nodded, your legs starting to shake as he quickened his pace, pounding into you mercilessly. His fingers still teasing your clit and making you lose your mind. 

“Bucky–,” You choked on your words as you came undone, walls clenching around him, and a loud moan erupting from your mouth as he made you come hard. It was almost blinding. 

His thrusts became irregular as he came right after you did, cock throbbing against your pulsating walls, moaning out loud when he felt your walls pulsating violently around him. “Fuck, baby,” He came while biting down on your shoulder.

You leaned against the glass door, limp and satiated. You had to blink a couple times to come back from that high. The glass was completely fogged up in front of your face as you pulled away to breathe deeply. 

Bucky held you gently. Wrapping his arms around you, his cock still inside you, throbbing. “You okay?” 

You giggled, leaning your head back to rest against his shoulder. “I’m okay.” You replied. “You?” 

“Yeah. Perfect.” A pause, then he said. “I gotta buy some condoms if we’re gonna do this often. I wasn’t exactly planning on–,” He hesitated. “You know…” 

You giggled again. “Yeah I know. Me neither.” 

Then you both laughed and Bucky helped you clean up as best he could before he walked you back to your house. You kissed him goodnight, and he said he hoped to see you soon. You exchanged numbers and then pulled him in for another kiss before he left. 

—

The following day Bucky dropped by the store and saw that it was packed. Of course, you’d told him over text that Fridays tend to get a little busy. Teens come over to get homework done after school. Some people came to get books for the weekend. Others just came to talk to you and ask about your week. The younger kids dropped by after school for snacks because they knew they’d miss it given you didn’t open during weekends. 

So Bucky only had a minute or two to say hi and give you a gentle kiss on the cheek. 

“Can I see you tonight? If you don’t have plans?” He asked. 

You seemed sad when you replied, “I’m pet-sitting for someone tonight. And I’m going over to a friend's house for dinner on Saturday night. Can we meet on Sunday?” 

He grumpily agreed. Because what did you mean he had to wait for two nights to see you again? 

He tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep on Friday night. So he ended up texting you: 

Saturday night was no different. He couldn’t sleep. But he didn’t want to text you again and seem desperate. Even though he was very much desperate. And he was pleasantly surprised when he received a text from you: 

Needless to say, when you showed up at his house in the morning, all other plans went out the window because after breakfast, the two of you spent almost the whole day in Bucky’s bedroom. 

— 

And so, weeks passed. 

You and Bucky got more and more involved in each other’s lives. Taking turns sleeping over at each other’s house. You weren’t putting a label on it. Yet. But it was solid, whatever you two had. And it was comforting and warm. Knowing you had someone else to rely on, a shoulder to lean on after a long day, knowing you could just walk over to the house next door whenever you wanted company was nice. 

Bucky came over to yours a lot. Randomly. Sometimes he’d come over and help you with your garden, or keep you company as you fed the birds and the wild rabbits, or helped you whenever you made dinner for the two of you. It was… peaceful, the budding romance. 

You began joining Bucky on his daily evening walks. Usually, he’d come by your store at around closing time, and he’d wait till you closed and locked the place, then you would both take the long way home. People in the neighbourhood began noticing, and when the older ladies would visit your store they’d tease you about it, singing all sorts of praises about how much of a good guy Bucky was, and how helpful. 

Bucky mentioned that the old guys at the pub would tease him about it too. Telling him how lucky he was that he found such a sweet, kind, and pretty girl. 

“I am, you know?” He said to you one night, over the phone. 

“What?” You asked, holding the phone between your shoulder and your ear as you were tidying up your study room, finally deciding to put it to use. You wanted to turn it into your at home library. Make it nice and cosy like those reading nooks you’d set up at the store. 

“Lucky,” He answered. “To have you.” 

His reply made you pause in the middle of your slightly messy study room. 

Bucky continued, “When I decided to leave everything and move here, I knew the people around here were friendly and kind. But I had given up all hope I had of finding, you know, my person.” 

You smiled to yourself, feeling a little sad thinking about Bucky and how he thought he’d have to spend the rest of his days all alone here. You wanted to tell him you felt the same. You wanted to tell him that you’d given up on dating as well, after uni. You liked the people in this town, and you’d been on a few dates since you moved here. But you were always so busy taking care of your grandmother that you could never quite commit. And then after she passed you were not emotionally stable, especially given your family didn’t even reach out to ask you how you were doing and how you were dealing with everything. So you kind of just… gave up as well. 

And then you met Bucky. 

“And then I met you.” His voice was steady, firm as he repeated your thoughts. 

“Oh Buck,” You sighed. “Why don’t you come over? You’ve got me all emotional now.” 

Bucky chuckled. “You just want me to come over so we can fuck, don’t you?” 

You laughed. “No,” You argued, “I actually need you for something.” You said, looking around trying to find something, an excuse to use to you can get him to come over. You didn’t know what it was, but the vulnerability in his tone made you want to wrap your arms around him and keep him safe from the rest of the world. And now, you just needed to see him. Plus, you didn’t want him to be alone. Not after what he just told you. Besides, you had to tell him you felt the same and you didn’t wanna do that over the phone. “I have a huge bookshelf I need to move. Can you come help?” You lied. The bookshelf was perfect where it was. 

Bucky let out a dramatic sigh, “Fine. I knew it, you just want me around because I’m handy.” 

You laughed as you hung up the phone. 

Less than a minute later, Bucky was up in your study, lugging around your bookshelf as you instructed him where to place it. And after a few more minutes of deciding, you settled on having the bookshelf exactly where it initially was. 

Bucky gave you a confused look that had you giggling as he placed the shelf back down to where it was. “Well this was a waste of time.” He mumbled. 

“Maybe,” You teased, sitting down on the edge of the nearby desk. “Or maybe I just wanted to see you flexing those muscles.” You were only partially lying. Because he did look good in that extra tight black t-shirt. His silver chain caught the light the same way his metal arm did. “Come here.” You extended out your arms for him to walk into. 

And he did, sighing dramatically and mumbling something about how he was right about you only wanting him for his incredibly amazing body. But he did walk into your arms. And smiled down at you as you wrapped your arms around him. 

“You know, I didn’t ask you to come here for the bookshelf.” 

He smirked, “I know.” A pause, then he said, “Did what I said earlier scare you? Did you call me here to dump me?” He asked, raising his eyebrow and glaring at you in that playful manner of his. 

You laughed. “I could never dump you.” You leaned forward and pressed your forehead to his chest, inhaling his masculine scent and said, “I wanted to tell you that I had given up as well. But, things have changed ever since I met you too.” You finally looked up and met his eyes. Bucky’s ocean blue ones were focused on you as you finally confessed, “And I really like you, Bucky.” 

His face softened as he looked down at you. Then he lowered his face, placing his palms on the surface of the desk till he was face to face with you. And he said, “I really like you too.” He leaned in for a sweet, deep kiss. 

You slid your fingers into his hair and he smiled into the kiss when he felt you tugging on his hair. He grabbed you by the thighs and pulled you closer as he stepped in between your legs. 

Bucky pulled away just a little, keeping his lips pressed against the side of your mouth as he said, “But you know, as much as I like you, I can’t be going around doing manual labour for free.” His hands massaged your thighs in a way that had you whimpering for him already. “So, what will you give me?” 

You smiled, running your hands all over his muscular shoulders and chest. “I made fresh cookies this morning.” 

He chuckled. “Not enough.” He pulled away to look at you, “Nowhere near enough.” 

“Well,” You held his stare and asked, “What do you want then?” You gently reached down, wrapped your fingers around his wrist and guided it in between your legs. “You want that?” 

“Yeah.” Bucky immediately cupped your clothed core. Possessively. 

“You can have that.” You said, breathlessly. 

He groaned. “You’re gonna be the death of me, baby.” He shook his head, “Take all that off then, let me see what you’re offering.” 

You smirked, holding his stare as you lifted your dress up and removed your underwear before sitting on the edge of the desk again, spreading your legs so he could just look at you down there.  

Bucky placed his hands on your thighs again, spread them further apart, and took his time inspecting your wet folds. He mindlessly dragged a metal finger up and down your slit, making you shiver and moan as he touched you but barely. 

His eyes trailed up to your tits, and his other hand reached up to pinch a clothed nipple, making you yelp. “Ow!” You frowned at him. 

“What?” He chuckled, “You’re all mine. I’m allowed to play with you.” 

“That hurt.” 

He smirked. “I know it did.” He held your stare as he got down on his knees so his mouth was mere inches away from your clit. “Now, keep your legs spread for me. Just like this. Open for me. Okay?” 

You nodded, looking down in between your legs as he leaned in and pressed his mouth shamelessly to your wetness. 

His tongue, his lips, the gentle suction of his warm mouth – it was all too much, too good. He moved his head side to side, his coarse stubble brushing against your soft inner thighs. You whined and trembled, trying to keep your voice down as he made you lose your mind by eating you out like a starved man. 

“All mine, yeah?” He whispered, looking up at you with his mouth just barely hovering above your clit. “My girl.” He smiled, then got back to it, the lower half of his face was completely submerged in your wet cunt. 

Your fingers slid into his hair again, gently guiding him as he made it feel so good it almost hurt. 

You came with a yelp and a moan, riding his face and tugging on his hair. 

Bucky smiled as he pulled away and stood back up. “You taste so good, baby. Thank you.” 

You couldn’t take your eyes off his damp lips. “I should be thanking you.” You said quietly. 

“No,” He argued, licking his lips then added, “That was selfishly all for me.” 

You chuckled, then pulled him in for a kiss. 

How did you get so lucky? 

— 

Eventually, Bucky ended up taking you up the mountains in his truck. His large, all black Ford Raptor was nice and clean, it smelled like new leather and it was comfortable too. 

While driving up, Bucky kept his hand on your thigh, and you couldn’t help but feel giddy each time you looked down to see him mindlessly caressing your thigh. Then you’d look up and find him driving with just one hand, and that simple act was so hot for no reason. 

Easy, tiger. 

You managed to keep your hands to yourself the entire drive up. 

Bucky came to a stop at a well-known spot. People often drove here to look at the view. And it was so worth it. You could see everything from here. The woods, the lake, the houses and the lights coming on in the streets given that the sun was starting to set now. You could spot your house and Bucky’s as well. 

The woods up here were extra dense so it was darker than everywhere else, and the sky was quickly changing colours. From pink to orange, to a darker blue right before your eyes. But none of it compared to the man beside you who was rambling about how nice it was that you baked muffins especially for this little date. 

“I’m dying to have some of–,”

You cut him off by grabbing his face and kissing him. Bucky was surprised but quickly went along, kissing you back with almost just as much hunger. “Make some room for me.” You mumbled in between kisses. “I hope you have condoms in your truck. Please say you do.” 

Bucky understood immediately, and pushed his seat back just enough to allow you to move from the passenger side to his lap, straddling him. He smiled into the kiss as he slowly trailed his hands downwards till they rested at the curve of your butt. “I did bring some.” 

“Perfect.” You could feel his warmth on your skin even through the material of the skirt you’d chosen to wear for this date, and it made your heart race even more. “I need you so badly. Can I have you? Please?” You asked, placing your forehead against his. 

Bucky pulled you even closer, kissing down your chin as he said, “You can have whatever you want, baby.” 

You sighed in bliss as he kissed down your neck, playfully biting and nibbling on your skin. 

Bucky pulled away to look at you, “By the way, you’re not subtle. I saw you squirming in your seat the whole way here.” He whispered in that cocky tone of his, one of his hands slipping under your shirt, gently caressing your skin. “You know when you want me you can just ask, right? You don’t have to wait. I will pull over for a quickie anytime.” 

You chuckled, nuzzling his cheek as you said, “I don’t wanna seem like all I think about when I’m with you is how good you fuck me.” 

“Fuck.” He groaned, gripping your thighs tighter. “Who knew such a sweet girl had such a filthy mouth, huh?” 

You leaned in to kiss him again, and both of his hands found their way under your shirt, pulling at the hem. You giggled into the kiss before pulling away to get rid of your top. You threw it somewhere in the backseat before leaning in to kiss Bucky again. Your hands slid into his hair, his hands inched up your back to undo the clasp of your bra. You quickly got rid of that as well, baring your breasts to him. 

He wasted no time before leaning in and taking one of your nipples into his warm mouth. He moaned, mouth wrapped around one of your tits as he sucked gently. Your back arched, giggling and gasping as he teased you. You found your hips moving against his, grinding against him. 

You gasped as he sucked hungrily on your skin, moving up to your collar bones, down to your breasts and back up. Bucky chuckled when you tugged on his hair, getting more and more impatient and needy. Oh, he loved you in moods like these. 

“Stop fucking teasing me.” You whispered, grounding your hips against his jeans. 

He smirked, looking down to where your skirt had inched up your legs, revealing your thighs even more, “Yeah? Well, you’re my girl. I’ll do whatever I want with you.” He leaned in for a proper kiss. “To you. I’ll tease you for hours if I want to.” 

You playfully bit his lip, making him hiss in pain before he chuckled against your mouth. “Stop wasting time please, I want to fuck you.” 

He laughed, pushing his face against your bare chest and kissing the soft skin between your breasts. “You’ve turned into a little monster, you know that? 

You let out a little laugh, “Oh shut up. You made me like this.” 

Bucky raised his eyebrows at you, smirking like the cocky little shit he was. “I know.” 

You grabbed him by the chin and said, “No more teasing.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He smiled, leaning in to kiss your neck again. “You smell so fucking good. I could just eat you up.” He whispered against your skin as his hands slipped under your skirt, his thumbs caressing your inner thighs – making you gasp and whimper quietly as his fingers teased you in between your legs through your underwear. “Too bad we don’t have enough room for me to taste you right now. Later though, okay? When we get home.” 

“Bucky…” You whined as he leaned down to suck on your tits again, more greedy than earlier as he toyed with your wet folds and clit at the same time 

Your impatient hands were at the zipper of his pants in no time. 

He finally looked up and gave you a lazy smile, eyes hooded with lust. “Go on, baby. Take it out, it’s all yours.” His voice was suddenly deeper than earlier. Bucky reached for the condom and handed it to you. He fucking loved how you tore it open and put it on him each time. “Good job, baby.” He said, once you were done. 

His voice made you shiver. And only then did you realise that there was a light drizzle outside, which made the air even colder, making you crave his body heat even more. Making this even hotter. 

You lifted off of his lap at the same time as you both lowered his pants and underwear to free his erected cock. Bucky groaned impatiently as he grabbed your hips, pulled your thin underwear to the side and aligned his cock to your entrance before gently lowering you down on him. 

You moaned as you slid down his thick cock, his stare burning on your face as he thrust up into you, all the way in. “Fuck,” He swore, then leaned in to give you a wet, messy kiss. “You okay, baby? You need a moment?” 

You shook your head, no you didn’t need a moment. What you needed was more of him. “Just… move, please, you feel so good.” You whispered, kissing down his rough cheek as he obeyed, and moved, knowing exactly how you liked it. 

You whined as he grabbed your hips and guided you up and down his cock, stretching you out in the process. You held onto his shoulders as you rode his cock, bouncing on it while you moaned for him, bending a little forward so as to not hit the roof of the truck too hard. 

“Fuck…,” You felt him fill you up nicely each time, the pressure in between your legs getting hotter and hotter. “You feel so fucking good.” 

Bucky threw his head back against the headrest, watching you with lust-drunk eyes. He let out a strained moan, as he thrust into you over and over again, while also bringing you down on his cock each time with enough force to make your tits bounce. “You’re fucking beautiful. Can’t believe you’re all mine.” 

“All yours.” You said, unable to hold back your moans when he placed his thumb over your clit and rubbed it gently, in time with his thrusts. You forced yourself to look into his eyes, and the feral look in them only made you clench harder around him. 

You bit your lower lip as he thrust his hips up harder into you, your eyes rolled back and you moaned out his name as you came so close to coming undone for him. “Bucky…” 

“You’re gonna come for me?” He asked, “You’re gonna come all over my cock, huh?” 

You answered after a loud whimper, “Yes… please, can I come?” 

He cupped your cheek and traced your mouth with his thumb, “Go on, baby. Come all over my cock. Come for me…” Your walls clenched violently around his cock. You came hard, whimpering and crying for him and gasping for breath. 

Bucky came right after you, his warm load spilling in the condom as he wrapped his arms around you and held you like you were the most precious thing in the world. Like he hadn’t just fucked you like an animal. 

You caught your breath, wrapped in Bucky’s arms. Your head rested on his shoulder as you tried to calm your racing heart. “You’re right,” You said, while catching your breath, “This feels like a real date.” 

He laughed and kissed you on the forehead. 

And there you stayed, in his arms as you two watched the sun set and watched how the town lit up. 

— 

More time passed. Bucky officially asked you to be his girlfriend by showing up at the store early one morning, after you two had spent the weekend apart yet again. And he came with flowers, a look on his face which stated that he hadn’t slept well. 

“Oh Buck…” You pulled him into your arms the moment you saw those sleepy, tired eyes. “What happened to you?” 

He mumbled, his voice low and tired as well. “Can’t sleep when you’re not there.” 

“Aww, baby.” You kissed his gorgeous face, then noticed the flowers in his hand. “For me?” 

He nodded, handing them to you. “Please let me be your boyfriend. I can’t do this no label thing anymore. I won’t tie you down or anything, but I…” He struggled to find the right words, “I just wanna be able to sleep knowing you’ll come back to me again each time you leave, or spend the weekend away.” 

You felt like tearing up and laughing at the same time. So you accepted the flowers and kissed him instead. “I’ll always come back to you.” You promised. “And yes, you can be my boyfriend.” You kissed him again. “It’s a good thing I’m not close to my parents anymore. How would I explain having a century-old boyfriend?” 

He didn’t find that funny, so he chased you around the store until he finally cornered you against one of the shelves – well away from your grandma’s portrait – and kissed you until you were breathless. 

—

One evening, Bucky got a call. It was you. 

So he answered with a smile. “Hi baby. What is it this time?” He teased. “You need me to move another piece of furniture? Or are you calling again to ask if you can come watch me run shirtless around the lake? If so, I’m sorry to disappoint you but I’m not planning on going for a run today.” 

He frowned when all he heard was silence on your side. Silence, and a shaky breath. 

“Baby?” 

“Uh, Buck?” That shaky, scared tone of your voice wiped the smile right off his face. 

“What is it?” He asked, already panicking and looking for the keys of his truck, in case he needed to come get you from somewhere. You had told him you’d be out running errands earlier. “Where are you? What is it? Are you okay?” 

His heart raced thinking about all the times he’d hear silence on the comms when he was out on missions. The silence was like all those terrible memories come back, flooding his brain again. And he couldn’t help but imagine the worst possible scenarios. 

His voice was close to cracking as he asked, in a panicked tone, “Baby, please tell me you’re okay.” 

He heard a sniffle, and his heart almost dropped. You were not okay. His blood rushed, his heart beat faster than normal. 

“Bucky,” Your voice sounded broken, “This is so stupid,” You sounded disappointed in yourself. “I, um, I came deeper into the woods to get those purple edible flowers but um, I think I’m lost?” 

His heart sank. His blood froze. Fuck.

Another sniffle. Your voice cracked as you spoke, “I’ve been walking around in circles and I can’t…” Another shaky exhale, “I can’t get out. It’s been hours. It’s starting to get really dark, Bucky. Please–,” The call ended abruptly. 

When he tried calling you back, he couldn’t reach you. Something to do with network issues. 

Bucky felt like his world was crumbling down all over again. Like he was gonna lose another person dear to him. For a moment, he remained frozen in the middle of his house. His mind taking him back to those brutal days of missions and death and darkness he thought he’d walked away from. 

No, no, no. 

This wasn’t a mission. He reminded himself. He would get you back, he would get you back safe and sound. 

“Just please be okay, baby. Please.” He whispered under his breath as he took off running, through his backyard and into the woods. He ran in the direction of where he knew you had the habit of plucking those flowers. He didn’t care that it was starting to drizzle and all he was wearing was a t-shirt. 

It was starting to get dark, and he only had a few hours to get to you before it got completely dark out. Fuck, he didn’t even bring a light with him. 

“I’m coming, baby.” He mumbled under his breath as he ran deeper into the woods. “Don’t you worry.” 

He called out your name multiple times while he ran, stopping every few minutes to listen if you answered his calls. Or if he could hear anything at all. 

Come on, baby. Where are you? Where are you? Where are you? 

At one point, he was deep enough that when he stopped to listen, he could hear animals howling, and owls screeching. 

Fuck. This is a fucking horror movie. 

He couldn’t help but think about all those times he ran through woods to find and help his friends and teammates, worried sick during the search and not knowing what state he’d find them in. 

Please, baby. Please, be okay. I can’t lose you. I can’t lose you. I can’t lose you. Not like this. Not now. I want more time. Please, please, please. 

He called out your name again. And again. Louder each time, his throat burning. 

Finally, he stopped near a stream just to recalibrate. His panicked brain only showed him disturbing images of you hurt, or attacked by an animal, or worse– 

Then he saw it. A single purple flower floating down the stream. Followed by a lot more. It was the only thing keeping him sane at the moment. He frowned, wondering if he was seeing things or if it was truly those damned flowers you liked to pluck for your baking. 

He reached for one and grabbed it, clutching it in his hand he took a deep breath. Okay, if he followed the stream maybe he’d get to where you are, he reasoned. So that’s what he did. He ran up the stream, careful not to slip and fall. 

The woods were getting darker and darker, but he was used to navigating in the dark. It wasn’t easy, but he was better at it than regular humans. 

So Bucky ran, for what felt like forever, until he saw a spot of red on top of a fallen tree trunk. 

He stopped running when he saw you, his chest burning with how fast he’d been running. And for how long. Must be about an hour or two by now. But there you were, sitting on a log, with your red coat around you and your hood on. Fuck, you were probably freezing too.  

As he got closer he noticed your body shaking with quiet sobs, your boots muddy and your basket of fucking flowers on the ground. 

“There you are.” He said, breathlessly. “Baby?” 

Relief and exhaustion. A million thoughts and feelings coursing through him, he felt like he was going to explode. The only thing that felt like it tethered him to earth was the feeling of your body colliding into his chest as you ran into his arms. So hard that it almost knocked him off his balance. 

“Bucky!” You sobbed. 

He was still breathing faster than he’d ever had. “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you. Are you hurt?” He pulled away to look at you, “Look at me! Are you hurt?” 

How many times had he found his friends unconscious? Or with broken limbs? Or with bullet holes all over their bodies? For a moment, he was back in that life. That life filled with tragedy and pain. 

“No,” You spoke, teary eyed and voice shaking with panic and relief all at once. “My phone ran out of battery and–,” You let out a breath. “I was scared you wouldn’t find me.” 

He pulled you into his arms again, hugging you tighter than earlier, “Why wouldn’t I find you? I was worried sick. I thought–,” He stopped talking. Fuck. He needed to get a grip and calm those racing thoughts. 

A strange anger washed over him. Mainly because he was disappointed. Why hadn’t he gone out with you? You would’ve never gotten lost if he was with you. Fuck, what other dangers would you find yourself in due to his carelessness? What if next time– 

He blinked a couple of times and just said, “Come on, let’s go.” 

You noted the change in his tone and demeanor, but you didn’t say anything. You just followed him, wiping your tears and cursing the flowers in your basket. 

“I didn’t even realise I’d gotten this deep.” You spoke, looking ahead at Bucky’s back while he walked ahead and led the way. 

He didn’t say anything. 

“I only realised I went off my regular path when I started hearing all the animals.” You spoke, still staring at Bucky’s back. “Why aren’t you saying anything?” You asked softly. 

You got only silence from him. You could tell his mind was racing. But you didn’t understand the silent treatment. 

“Bucky?” You called out. 

He didn’t reply. 

“Say something.” You demanded. 

He stopped. And you nearly bumped into his back. When Bucky turned around to face you, he seemed different. Still. So still like he wasn’t breathing. It felt like he was a statue. The look in his eyes was blank. He was looking at you, but it felt like he was looking through you. 

It scared you how quiet he was. “Bucky?” 

“I thought I was gonna find you broken and maimed.” He finally said. “Do you know how many times I’ve had to go out and search places. Trying to find my teammates, or friends. Desperate to find them, or even a–,” He swallowed. “Or even a part of them.” 

You were quiet this time. And there was only silence, except for the light rain hitting the leaves around you. 

“I’m sorry.” You finally said. “Look, I was just scared when I called you. There’s nothing around here that could hurt me like that.” 

“Don’t be sorry.” He said. His voice was bitter. He finally looked at you, dead in the eyes and said, “Be smart. I ran for hours to get to you. I thought I’d find you dead. Why would you even get this far into the woods?” He finally snapped out of the trance he was in, getting heated with emotions now. “We don’t even know what lives in these woods! Nobody does!” 

You understood where he was coming from. But you didn’t appreciate the tone. “Why are you being mean to me? You’re acting like I chose to get lost. I didn’t mean to, Buck!” You got angry too. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for ruining your fucking evening.” You sassed. “I won’t do it again.” 

“Damn right you won’t!” He raised his voice just as much as you did. “I’m not letting you into these woods alone ever again!” 

“You don’t own me! I’ll go wherever I want!” Your mind couldn’t think properly. You were exhausted and still in panic mode. “I’ll even run away from you if I want to!” 

A second of silence as he processed your angry words. Then, “Fine!” He hissed. “Don't call me crying to come rescue you then next time you get lost doing what you want!” 

As much as you were angry at him, your lips trembled at the sound of his tone. “If I had someone else, literally anyone else I could rely on, I would've never called you in the first place.” You stated. Then, despite not wanting to, you teared up again. Your voice cracking as you said, “But I have no one.” 

“I have no one either!” Bucky said, “Don’t you see that? I was– I was scared I was gonna lose you too.” He sounded tired, and disappointed. “I fucking love you, and it kills me that you could be so easily taken from me! You don’t think that scares me to death every single fucking day?!” 

You couldn’t handle it. The panic and pain in his voice, the way Bucky looked heartbroken, the way he looked like he was reliving painful memories and the way you couldn’t do anything about it, the multitude of emotions running through your head at the sound of his confession… 

You couldn’t bear the shattered look on his face. So you took off running. In the other direction. 

Behind you, you could hear Bucky screaming, “Baby, for fuck’s sake!” 

But you didn’t stop. You kept running, ditching the basket and wiping your tears. 

“Get back here!” 

You could hear Bucky’s calls, but you didn’t answer. You didn’t know what to do. No one had ever made you feel that many emotions all at once ever again. Fuck, even dealing with your emotionally unavailable family was easier than this. Bucky was like an avalanche. Inescapable. Fierce. Passionate. And he destroyed all of your fears and your worries. He was so… colossal. He took over your life completely lately. And it messed with your head. Disorienting, but in the best ways. 

“Go away!” You sobbed. You were completely drenched at this point, the rain getting heavier and heavier, running for your life like a madwoman. Trying to get away from Bucky like he wasn’t the only person you ever wanted to run to for the rest of your life. 

You heard his footsteps, running, chasing and closer to you than earlier. 

You managed to run faster, finally able to put some distance between you two… only to trip on a fallen branch. You cursed before getting up, now with leaves and dirt sticking to you. 

You heard him. He was closer. Closer. “Baby, please.” He begged, his voice getting louder. 

You ran faster. Hoping to be able to somehow lose him and make your way back out of the woods somehow, and hide. Why? You didn’t know. 

But you couldn’t do that because right when you were about to make a sharp turn, Bucky grabbed you by the elbow and tackled you to the ground. Luckily you both fell on a soft, wet patch of moss rather than rocks or something. 

“Don’t run from me. I just found you.” He growled, straddling your squirming body and pinning your hands above your head. “What the hell did I say that made you run, huh? Am I not allowed to care for you?” 

You were still breathless. “You piss me off, Bucky!” You answered, heart racing. 

“Do I now?” He sounded cocky again. Far away from that strange trance he was in earlier, haunted by his past memories. 

Your body was warm because of how fast your heart was pumping blood but the rain falling from above was cold, so cold. The contrast was somehow maddening. Like Bucky. 

“Yes! And you are so mean!” You squirmed, trying to get free. 

“Stop moving!” He hissed. “I’m allowed to care, you hear me?” 

“You’re not allowed to be mad over something I had no control over.” You argued. 

“Yes I fucking am! I’m fucking allowed to be mad where my girl’s safety is concerned.” 

That shut you up. Bucky’s smirk sent a chill down your spine. 

“That’s not why you ran, is it?” He leaned down, his face hovering above yours. The damp strands of his hair tickling your face. “Is it because of what I said? About how I love you? Did you want a more romantic confession? Hmm? A cute little picnic? More flowers?” He taunted, his voice doing things to you that resulted in you feeling your arousal drip out of you. “Well that’s what I had in mind for tonight, you know? I was waiting for you at home, I was gonna make you your favourite dinner, and spout some fucking poetry to let you know how I feel but no.” He tightened his grip on your wrists. “You just had to run into these damn woods and get lost, didn’t you?” 

A tear fell down your face, disappearing into the moss under you. Fuck. You loved Bucky so much it physically hurt. 

“What is it, baby?” His voice was colder than the rain, “Did I scare you with that? Huh?” 

You sniffled. Closing your eyes for a moment, you took in a deep breath, but he was so close that you inhaled his scent as well. His cologne and his sweat was a heady mix, paired with the scent of the rain and your surroundings. You didn’t even know why you were crying. 

Bucky shut you up again with a kiss. A punishing, deep kiss. His hands let go of your wrists, coming down to grab your red coat at the neckline, ripping it open. You heard the buttons go flying around, then he grabbed the dress you were wearing under the coat, again at the neckline, and easily tore it off your body, baring your breasts to him since you hadn’t bothered to wear a bra to come to the woods. 

Bucky pulled away from the kiss, looking down at you. Above him, the sky was a darker shade of blue. His eyes demanded a silent question. He would back off immediately if you asked him to. 

But you didn’t. 

So he held your stare as he leaned down to take one of your breasts in his mouth, sucking and biting and alternating between the two of them.

You gasped and moaned and squirmed under him. The tension from earlier forgotten for now. Drops of water constantly dripped on the two of you, thankfully the pine trees took the brunt of the now heavy rain. But you could hear it, the sound of the rain falling. The grunts and groans coming from Bucky’s mouth, the sound of your moaning, the chill in the air. It was all too much. 

Bucky’s mouth moved from your breasts and kissed down your drenched torso, sucking the rain off your skin until he reached your inner thighs where he parted your legs and settled in between them. He slid your underwear to the side, and you moaned shamelessly when you felt his warm, wet tongue lick down your folds. 

His tongue slipped past your folds and teased your entrance, occasionally flicking your throbbing clit mercilessly until you screamed his name. Your hands immediately gripped his hair and tugged gently at his wet hair. 

Your torn clothes were getting soiled but you didn’t care. Neither did he. 

He licked and sucked relentlessly, “You taste so fucking good…” He whispered as he ate you out until you whined, throwing your head back and moaning at how good he felt. His warm mouth pressed against your most intimate part, his tongue stroking you. 

He growled when your hips instinctively bucked against his mouth. You whined as the sounds he made reverberated through your entire body, causing goosebumps to erupt all over your body. 

“What is it? You want more?” He taunted. “Thought you were mad at me just now. Don’t I piss you off anymore?” 

You felt tingles shooting through you as he teased you incessantly. Even in the darkness, you could sense that his piercing eyes were wild and fierce, staring up at you from in between your legs. 

“Oh damn you.” You hissed, your heart overflowing with all the love you had for him. 

“You’re all mine…” he whispered, thrusting his tongue deeper into you. You moaned and whimpered, your body getting warmer and warmer with each touch of his tongue. “You hear me? All mine.” He said.

“Please, Buck…” You felt your walls tighten around nothing, and you knew you were close. You could only moan and whimper as he kept licking deeper into you, your back arching off the cold ground. You felt him quicken his pace and you felt the pressure building up in between your hips until you couldn’t handle it anymore, and you came undone all over his lips, moaning and whimpering. Your naked body drenched in the rain. 

Bucky tore your underwear off, he’d never had to use such brute strength before, but he did now. And it only made you throb and want him more. His metal hand found itself around your throat as he parted your legs and pushed his cock into you without wasting a second, stretching you out. 

Condoms be damned. You both needed this, you thought.  

It felt so raw, primal, and dirty, being fucked on the forest floor by a man like Bucky. Broad shoulders, metal arm, hair damp and messy. His t-shirt and jeans sticking to him like a second skin while you were naked under him. 

“Sure you didn’t think you could run and hide from me, baby, did you? Or maybe you secretly did want to be fucked like this? Hmm?” He questioned, knowing you weren’t in a headspace to answer him given his hand was around your throat and his cock buried so deep inside of you – he knew your brain was a foggy mess. “My pretty girl. You’re so easily affected by a raised voice, huh? You couldn’t handle it? I spoil you too much, don’t I? You’re so fucking soft, look at you.” He scoffed, “Crying and throwing a tantrum the moment I raise my voice at you.” 

But you couldn’t argue. All you could so was whine and moan as he began fucking into you hard and fast. There was nothing gentle about it. He was wild like his surroundings, and passionate, animalistic, fucking you like there’s no tomorrow. And you enjoyed every bit of it. 

He tightened his grip around your throat as he sped up into you, leaning down and growling right in your ear and telling you that you belonged to him. “All mine.” 

The cold didn’t matter now that his warm, though damp and clothed, body was pressing down on you. Something about you being completely naked while he was still dressed made the moment all the more raw and dirty. 

“All yours.” You managed to choke out. 

You were a moaning mess under him, your hands finding their way into his hair as he fucked you nice and hard. It was all overwhelming, his voice, his weight on top of you, his cock thrusting in and out of you repeatedly… 

He released your throat and placed his hand on your abdomen, his metal hand pressing down on your front so he can feel himself inside you with each thrust. He stared into your eyes while he sped up into you again. “There I am. You feel that? That’s me fucking my girl.” He said, thrusting into your extra hard to prove his point. He smirked when your body squirmed under him. “What did you say earlier? That you’d run from me if you wanted to?” He boasted, “Try running now, baby.” 

All you could do was moan, clenching your eyes shut as you felt like you were losing your mind under him. 

“Look at me, hey, hey!” He tapped your cheek gently to get you to open your eyes. “Look at me,” His tone was gentle now. “Are you gonna come frolicking around here alone again? Huh? Are you?” 

You shook your head, unable to speak coherently.  

“Answer me. Use your words, come on.” He insisted. “You were so bratty earlier, what happened, huh? Use your words baby, come on tell me. Are you?” 

“No, please. I won’t. I promise.” 

“Good girl. Now come for me.” 

You cried out, feeling him speed up into you. “Bucky, I–,” 

“Shh, baby.” He sounded much calmer now. “I’ve got you, don’t worry. I’m right here.” He mumbled into your ear. “Your man’s here, I've got you. Just let go and come for me, that’s it. Just come.” 

He pressed his lips to yours as he made you come first, his mouth swallowing your moans as you orgasmed before he pulled out and came all over your inner thighs. 

You both caught your breaths. Bucky pressed his forehead to yours. “I love you.” He whispered. Over and over again. It was pouring now. The rain washing over you both, taking away the tension with it. 

“You’re all I have, Buck.” You confessed, breathlessly. “And I love you. So much. And when you got angry earlier… I’ve never seen that side of you before. It scared me. You’re all I have and you were mad at me. I didn’t know what else to do.” 

Bucky sighed, leaning in to press his forehead down against yours. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry.” He sounded genuine. “You scared me too. I thought– I didn’t mean to be angry at you. I just– that was wrong of me. I’m sorry.” 

“I know.” 

“I fucking love you.” 

“I love you too.” You sniffled. 

Bucky pulled away to look down at you. You could see it well, but you could’ve sworn his eyes were teary too. “Let’s get you home.” 

—

He took you to his house, and didn’t stop apologising or touching you in that gentle way of his. Not in the shower, not when he tucked you both in and pulled you closer in bed, not when he made sure you’d eaten something and drank plenty of water. 

And especially not when he made love to you again. Slow, and passionate love. Fingers laced together, his body on top of yours, his cock moving in and out of you languidly, his eyes staring into yours in a way that made you tear up again. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, kissing all over your face. 

“Me too.” You whispered, breathlessly. “We could’ve–” You gasped in pleasure, “We could’ve handled that better.” 

Bucky chuckled, kissing you on the mouth. “We’re idiots.” 

You giggled, his beard scratching your skin. “I agree.” 

—

You woke up the next morning wrapped in Bucky’s arms. He clung to you like a koala bear. And his heat was the most glorious thing to wake up to on a rainy morning. The world outside was cloudy and grey, and perfect for cuddles. 

“Are you up?” He asked, his voice tired and deeper than normal. 

“How long have you been up?” You asked, turning around to face him. 

“Didn’t sleep.” He said. 

“Bucky,” You chided, “Are you still worrying about last night?” 

He avoided your eyes. 

“Baby,” You cooed. “It’s okay. We talked about it, remember?” 

And you had a long conversation last night, after the multiple rounds of sex in his bed. About his protectiveness, about you being careful, about your relationship, about his fears, triggers, and worries due to his past, about everything. 

“I know,” He mumbled, kissing your forehead. “I love you. Too much.” 

You giggled, “I love you too. Too fucking much.” 

He seemed in a nicer mood instantly. “What would’ve happened to me if you hadn’t showed up that day? At my door with muffins and cookies to seduce me.” 

You laughed, snuggling into him. “Hey, it worked. I mean, I’m naked in your bed.” 

He laughed too. “Thank you, baby.” 

“What for?” 

“Sticking around.”

“Oh Buck. I’ll always stick around.” You mumbled into his neck, “Just promise me we’ll have more… date nights deep into the woods.” 

He mumbled something about how he’d created a little sex monster, then pulled you closer and said, “Whatever you want, baby.” Then finally, he drifted off to a much needed sleep with his arms still wrapped around you.

— 

a/n: get it? She was wearing a RED coat in the woods, and he’s the White WOLF hehehe– [they drag me back to my padded cell as I scream] UNTIL NEXT TIME!!! [they lock me in my cell]

[hedgehog-moss]

I'm happy to announce that Dru is no longer alone! Spring is here, baby chicks have hatched, and so I was able to get two new hens.

The first one (who, as per tradition, will receive a name on the day she lays her first egg) is your average red hen, already old enough to defend herself against hazing; and she seems very congenial to boot. It took some time for Dru to warm up to her former coopmate when I first brought her home, whereas she seemed to like this one immediately. She inspected her from every angle and deemed her very satisfactory.

From day one they were glued to each other all day long! It's sweet how the new, young hen seems to observe everything Drusilla does, which plants she decides to eat, etc, then earnestly imitates her. I bet Dru enjoys having such a studious disciple.

Dru and Louise used to sleep in the laying boxes rather than on the perches; each of them had laid claim to a different box so that they spent the night in separate cubicles with a wall between them; in contrast, when I went to check on them the first night, I found Dru and the new hen huddled up together on the same perch.

Moreover, when it came to seeking shelter from the elements, Dru and Louise used to sit on opposite sides of the outdoor table—whereas, when it snowed a little on Day 1 after the new hen arrived, I found her and Dru hiding under the table on the same side, quietly and companionably clucking to each other.

At which point one of my friends bravely said out loud what everyone was thinking:

And, I mean, the new hen just came out of her egg this year so the age gap with 5yo Dru is probably problematic in chicken years, but also this reminded me of the most wholesome image that lives in my computer (which balances it out):

But I did mention that I got two new hens. I wanted both of them to be 10-12 weeks-old, but unfortunately the neighbour I bought them from only had one hen left in this age range. He said I could take a younger chick, and I was reluctant at first because I didn't want her to be attacked by the older hens—I could keep them separated until she grew up a bit but wouldn't she get lonely?

(This is a complete digression, but while making small talk with this neighbour I mentioned that I've had a lot going on since the beginning of the year and I was a bit exhausted, and he said "Oh, you need some birch water" and took me to the nearest birch and offered me a drink from the tree. I loved this—every time I mention any kind of ailment to a neighbour, they all have their Elixir of Choice that will solve all my problems, be it special honey as a cough remedy or whatever homemade concoction they personally swear by.

So I went home with two bottles of birch water, and promised I would have a glass every morning.)

But let's go back to chickens. Like I said I didn't want to have a smaller chick along with two older ones, because chickens can be quite mean to more vulnerable members of their coop, but then I went to look at his young chicks and quickly developed a soul connection with one of them. She seemed solitary and had a glint of existential anguish in her eyes that I identified with. So I took her home.

I also liked the fact that her feet are currently longer than her body.

As expected, the older hens are pretty rough with her, so the chick currently spends the nights in the greenhouse where it's warm, and in the morning I transfer her to the coop.

Every morning I have to slalom between a dog and a cat during the Transfer of the Chick.

She gets a supervised visit with the other hens so they get to know each other, then I let the older hens out and the baby spends the day in the coop, where she can walk around and forage safely by herself.

I initially let her have access to the indoor part of the coop, but then realised that her tormented temperament resulted in her hiding from the world in the dark all day long, so I now close the little trap so she'll spend the day downstairs.

It was obvious that she longed to look at the world but was too anxious to do so on her own, so I gently placed her on the roof of her coop so she could have a better view of the pasture, with the llamas and donkeys grazing in the distance, and it blew her little mind.

I also worried she might fail to learn important chicken social codes if she didn't spend enough time with other chickens as a child (and she didn't seem very good at socialising with her age peers to begin with) so after letting her adapt to her new home for a bit I decided to take her out of the coop, on a leash (so she wouldn't run away into the woods), for some more supervised socialising.

The other hens were fairly nice to her, they seemed less interested in hazing her when everyone was outside of the coop, but her anxiety got the better of her and she just curled up into a tiny ball and tried to disappear.

If I were a hen in a coop, even an adult one, I would be intimidated by the other hens, especially the ones who are very close friends like Dru and the new girl seem to be, so I sympathised, and deposited the little chick on the outdoor table where I was about to have my afternoon tea. I gave her some grains to eat in my saucer and, like any self-respecting chicken would, she immediately stepped in it and made a mess.

She looked a lot more confident and adventurous on top of the table! I figured, since the other hens were foraging around the table while clucking to each other, this still counted as socialising, from a safe distance, for the little one. She was a bit wary of Pandolf at first, who was going round and round the table like a fluffy shark, hoping to get a glimpse of this new animal, but once she realised he just wanted to rest his long nose on the table and look at her adoringly, she stopped paying attention to him.

And after thoroughly exploring the table, trying to taste my mandarin and then my tea, having a look at the book I was reading and then at the other hens below her—and chirping her opinions continuously the whole time—she slowly ventured onto my lap and fell asleep :')

[venmondiese]

LITTLE BOX FULL OF SURPRISES

masterlist ✧works in procress ✧ AO3

based on this request⭑.ᐟ

-ˋˏsummary: The maimed one-eyed prince marries the most beautiful woman on earth. She is dutiful, beautiful and perfect, but Aemond can't stand when someone, specially his uncle, look with desire at what it is his. ✧Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Tully!Original Female Character ✧word count: 3.1k ✧Warnings: : MDNI 18+, p in v sex, dom/sub undertones, face slapping, spitting on the mouth, degradation kink, possesive Aemond, Aemond is WHIPPED by his wife.

Every time his grandsire and his mother spoke of a Lady of great beauty coming to King’s landing, he rolled his eye. 

Even when they present a small portrait, small to fit his palm, he does not seem impressed. Perhaps it is too small, perhaps it is too pretentious. Either the painter exaggerated your features or he couldn’t properly paint a small portrait. But he was curious, after all. Named the most beautiful woman on earth, blessed by the Gods. 

He doesn’t doubt that Lady Tully was beautiful. Perhaps she was truly a beautiful woman, with her long red hair, ‘like fire’ said the letter. But being called The Maiden on Earth seems exaggerated to him.

His grandsire had told them about the implications of his betrothal, about how important it was to have secured the Riverlands, since Grover Tully was an old lord, and will not understand reason. To have his most beloved granddaughter as a princess, was the only way to win his approval, and support. 

Aemond finally meets her on the little garden near the Weirwood tree. They had been serving little cakes, as some lords and ladies talked nearby, not even half of court was here, and he liked the quietness. That made him less self-conscious.

She was near the table, her hand hovering above all the treats she could get, smiling as she watches them with interest. She is expressive, he realises. He hasn’t seen her face, only her back and the day her hand moves and her head is tilted, curious about the southern gastronomy.

 “My lady” Aemond says softly. 

She turns so gracefully, and she is surprised to see him. Her hand still extended, and she quickly moves it to grab her skirts, and do a courtesy to him. She has a sweet smile, and she speaks. 

 “My prince” she says, a bit surprised. “I… I didn’t expect you.”

“I must admit I came a bit earlier than agreed…” he murmurs, looking behind him and then back to her.

The most beautiful maiden on earth fell short to her. She was… something else, in the best way possible. She had that curiosity, that life in her eyes, as she smiles at him, her lips are perfect, and he could see that her maids probably used those Myrish lip taints, for they were a very natural red colour, almost matching with her hair. Her dress was magnificent, wearing the colour of her house, red and blue decorating everything. Even her eyes, blue like the opaque blue rivers in the Riverlands, and her hair, red like flames, matched with her house colours. She wore fish details, her earrings and in her dress pattern. But she was wearing a collar with a seven pointed star in it, and he sighed at her beauty. She was breathtaking.

“Oh, well, so it seems…” she says as she smiles a bit sheepishly, looking at him. “It’s a fine castle, my prince. It does have its own beauty.” 

Aemond has never thought of the red Keep as something beautiful, at all. He always wanted to live in Dragonstone, but his wish was not granted.  But, if she says so, it must be true, and with good reason.

“You think so?” 

She grabs a lemon cake, and eats it carefully as she nods. “Yes! And you also have a Weirwood tree here. When we made our trip here, we passed through Raventree, and their Weirwood was a bit… depressing…” she says, smiling sweetly. “But here it’s very beautiful. More… alive”

As she talks, he watches her closely. Even when his mother, his sickly father and his siblings arrive, when his mother gives him a scolding look for arriving earlier, he sort of watches you in silence, his chest swelling with an air of mystery. 

“You are not what I expected” he admits, quietly between the two of them as their parents talked about the betrothal.

“No?” She asks smiling, licking her finger from the cream of the lemon cakes. “You’ll see I’m a little box full of surprises” 

That’s the beginning.

A ceremony on the Sept, as she stood next to him, reciting vows and the cloak with dragon sigils is on her shoulders, left behind the fish one. Aemond has never looked so smug and proud. The bedding ceremony was… traditional. Having a crowd was awkward for both, surely, but Aemond made it all more comfortable for her, covering her body with his, and not exposing her, at his own expense.

“Just focus on me” He murmurs closely to her face, as she looks at him with wide eyes. He was between her open legs, and he insisted for her to keep her chemise on, while he had no problem in nudity “Your septa and mother could have told you…”

“Not much” She whispers back.

“Not much” he repeats, moving a strand of hair out other face, tenderly watching her face for discomfort. “But I will be gentle, and… we’ll learn together. Yes?”

“Yes. Thank you…, husband” she says, and he feels a prideful pressure on his chest. He was her husband. The most beautiful woman’s husband. 

And she was always thankful for his patience and gentleness towards her, and she stuck to him to all times, even when she was in court, charming everyone around. Her arm was always interlocked with his, and referred to him as ‘her sweet husband’. 

Love came quieter than expected, as they laughed on their bed at nights, having picnics in the gardens or going to the Riverlands in Vhagar together, swimming on Riverrun’s rivers, and just… enjoying each other. It was more than love when they had their first son, a lovely and happy baby, mismatched eyes, with both purple and a deep blue. Aemond adored his son, his little Daerion, and he adored you more.

“Black looks well on you” Aemond comments. 

Daerion’s blabbing was a way to agree with Aemond’s statement as the maid finished putting on her headband, the same tone of her dress. Her orange hair is in braids, two simple ones with some gold details on them, and some dragon earrings that he gifted her. She was gorgeous, and all his. 

“Your wardrobe hasn’t changed” she states looking at him. “Went from velvet black to dark black” 

Aemond walks over to his wife, watching her being just so beautiful like that, sitting, waiting peacefully like a porcelain doll.

“Mhm... As if changing colours would make everything amicable…” Aemond murmurs, taking Daerion in his arms, and he allows him to play with his hair. “Does father know it’s useless? Rhaenyra wearing green won’t change anything, nor will my mother wearing black. HIs voice comes as a grunt as he bounces their baby. 

“It’s foolish when you put it that way” her voice is tender, sweet, and somewhat like velvet. He is still besotted by her, as maidens do with knights. He watches the shape of her breasts on that dress, how the cleavage is so delightful for his eyes and the roundness of her tits that make the fabric around stretch a bit. As if the tailor always got the measurement of her chest wrong on purpose, which he won’t complain about. 

Her bright red hair contrasts with how the black makes her skin look paler, and her eye colour deeper.

“They shouldn’t call you the Maiden herself anymore” Aemond murmurs softly, walking closer to her, still holding Daerion in his arms. “You are like the mother herself. Like the Goddess Syrax of Old Valyria. Beautiful, strong… so alluring…”

“You never seem to run out of compliments” her hands move to grab her rings, and the one he likes the most is the sapphire one, just to symbolise her marriage to him. 

“Never, more so if a goddess like you is my wife. All mine…”

“My prince, my lady.” It’s a Kings guard who interrupts. “Supper is ready, and Queen Alicent asks for you both to arrive earlier…”

“Hm” Aemond says, leaving Daerion in the wet nurse’s arms.

“Thank you, ser Willis” the knight smiles at his wife before walking to wait outside the door.

He rolls his eye as he leans to kiss his son’s forehead, caressing his chubby cheek and he smiles fondly at his sight. The little freckles he has that he inherited from his mother, something that Aemond loved. Yet remembering how unnecessary kind his wife is… annoys him.

Kindness and sweetness only helped to enhance her beauty and popularity, and he also loved that. She was beautiful, perfect in any way, tied to a One-Eyed maimed monster, like him. All he could offer to you, that it was worthy, was the luxuries of the royalty, all the kids you want and his unconditional love. He was at your mercy.

He has one eye, but he is not blind. Any man here on the keep, would pull their breeches down if his wife asked so. They would even cut their own throats for her mere delight, and Aemond would be one of them. 

“Goodbye, my sweet love” the sweet motherly tone makes little Daerion squeal happily, extending his little arms for his mother. She kisses both his hands, later to wave to him as they leave the room, arms interlocked.

Aemond always bites his tongue when his lady wife is kind to men. He hates it, yet he knows she does it for the kindness of her heart, and not any ulterior motives.

He was smitten for her, moving the chair for her to sit, and helping her, her dress not getting stuck anywhere or her headpiece, and only then, he sat on his own seat at peace.

“I heard they might have some goose” she murmurs to him, as the room fills. Her fingers caress his arm, and he hears her every word. “I’d eat it all if I could, you know” she teases.

“Mhm.” Aemond murmurs. Even if he is besotted, his facade is still the same; stoic, cold, distant. Yet to her, his gaze was always loving.

“I would only share it with you” she states proudly, leaning to give him a peck on the lips, before standing up once the King is brought to the room.

As he stands, he doesn’t miss how his uncle watches her. Aemond might not know the man personally, but he knew the look of desire in a man’s face. Much more when they looked at her 

The supper is mostly… tense, and awkward. But Lady Tully is charming to everyone and even toasts as well for Baela and Rhaena in their betrothal, congratulating them and speaking nothing but wonders about her own married life, making Aemond wear the slightest, yet most smug smirk on his face.

“Amazing” she says, with her mouth full as she eats the goose, and Aemond nods, a hand rubbing her back so she doesn’t choke for eating so quickly. “Here, my love” she says, extending the fork with a bit of the goose that she adores so much. 

Aemond eats shamelessly, enjoying the taste as he nods softly, approving, which makes her smile. His hand resting on the back of her chair, as he drank his wine quietly, watching his sister and nephew go to dance together. He is highly unaware of the prying eyes that watch them both.

Helaena and Jacaerys’ giggles and the movement of her dress is enough for lady Tully to watch curiously. Her husband was not one for dances, as he had not a good perception of objects with one eye. She never pressured him, and accepted the fact. 

She always would say how Daerion once he would be tall enough to walk, she’d dance with her son all the songs and dances, and Aemond approved that idea. 

“Lady Tully” It was Daemon Targaryen’s deep voice, and she looks at him a bit surprised, leaving her fork on the table as she covers her mouth, her hand unconsciously fetching wine, which Aemond hands her his. 

“Prince Daemon” her melodic voice is a bit confused, and more so when the uncle of her husband extends his hand. The green fabrics from his suit are deep, yet he still wore dragon details on it, and he looked smug about it.

She turns to watch Aemond, his jaw tensing as he looks at Daemon. And he has to physically stop himself from cutting his uncle’s throat when his wife walks with him to join Helaena and the bastard. Aegon and he share a look, both upset and annoyed, as their wives are so freely dancing with other men. 

Aemond watches her beautiful face, frowning as Daemon talks about something, whispering it closely so no one else hears it. His grip on the edge of his seat is strong; knuckles’ turning white as his jaw is tense, not looking pleased at all. And then, he hears her warm laugh, giggling at what he said, as her whole face brightened up.

Once they serve the pig in front of him and hear the little bastard giggles, it is enough to send him through a fit of rage. 

He literally drags his wife by the arm after everything went downhill, after saying that stupid toast, after the Velaryon’s boys attempt to defend themselves (very badly) and both her husband and her good brother humiliate them.

“Dancing with him” Aemond murmurs, walking to their shared chambers, not minding seeing the servants stop and look at them both. “Accepting it, and giggling to his jokes as he shamelessly flirts with you” 

“It was politeness...” her voice is weak when protesting.

“Did he mocked me for having only one eye?” He asks roughly. “Did he told you how beautiful your are and how full your breasts are?”

She opens her mouth a bit taken aback by his lewds remarks. “I am dutiful to what it’s expected of me. I wouldn't have allowed him to mock you”

“You should…”

“My family’s words are Family. Duty. Honour. And you know I care for that very deeply.” she says as she tries to keep up with his long steps “And I did just what was asked…”

“You are mine” he states, walking inside his chambers as his grip does nothing but become stronger. “My wife and you are… putting yourself in display for my uncle, laughing at his flirting. I know your family words are important for you, but this is… beyond that”

Perhaps it was her confused eyes or her angelic face, but he loosened up his grip yet he kept talking. 

“He wanted you! To have you below him and fuck you like a… wench or… or some kind of…”

“I know” 

Aemond turns drastically, eye twitching at his wife's words.

“You knew?”

“It was being cordial. It was duty. To amend broken ties…”

“I will break and burn and turn into ashes any ties from you to him” he says exasperated, insane with jealousy. His eye is wide, twitching in rage as he cannot believe this. She was his wife. 

Seeing Daemon’s hand grip on her hip, almost groping her, made him insane. Because he knew that Lady Tully, beautiful as the Maiden, a beloved goddess amongst the poor and rich, could do so much better than him. Yet, she still chooses him.

“Get naked” he says simply.

“What?”

“You heard me just right. Get. Naked.” He says again, not wanting a negative. 

Her whine is endearing, as she starts taking off little by little. Her gown, the diminutive buttons at the back, her collar, and her hellish headpiece.

“Let me” he grumbles as he helps her take off the headpiece, tossing it aside more carefully.

She is possibly the most beautiful when she is naked. Round breasts, even fuller thanks to lactating, and her body was tempting enough to anyone. 

“Undress me” he says instead. He took delight when she was the one serving him, in this way. He loved to see her desperation, her eagerness for him. His jerkin is out in no time, and she kneels to undo his breeches.

Because she had an angelic face, but it was only he who knew how obsessed she was with his cock. She could spend hours lying on the bed, sucking his cock as she rested her head on his abdomen as Aemond read. She wouldn’t even suck him off properly, his wife would only suck the tip, give kitten licks, and lazily press some kisses. During hours and hours. 

“I forbid you to speak to any one of them. Ever again” 

Confused eyes turned up to look at him, as the careful hands undid his breeches, almost a bit eagerly. “Forbid?”

“Hm. It’s what I said, is it not?” He says, narrowing his eye as if asking to be defied. 

“But it’s mad” she protests, frowning. “I promised Jace and Baela a tour in the gardens, and it would be impolite if I didn’t spoke-”

“Too bad” his voice cuts the conversation, and he is not leaving it up for conversation. 

“You are being irrational...”

“And you are being a fucking brat” he spats, grabbing her chin as he bites his lower lip. “I’ll show you how irrational I can get”

Her eyes watched him, almost too innocent for her own good. It made him hard; he could feel his cock stirring on his untied breeches. 

“Fucking slut, giving yourself to other men” his tone is harsh, but by the way her knees move, to accommodate the weight as he grips her chin, he knows that she is aroused. So is he.

Lady Tully was beautiful, and a box of surprises with everything, he realised with time. He had everyone trapped under her charms, and kept her secrets very private. And he loved it.

“Whore.”  His hand leaves her chin, only to move it to slap her across the face. 

She gasps, her face turned. It wasn’t harsh, yet the sting was burning on her skin, as she placed a hand on her cheek. To foreign eyes, he just slapped his wife. But he has done it before, to her request. Aemond knew that if his wife was enraged by that, he would have been beaten over and over, because she was kind, but didn’t stand for people dishonouring her. 

Aemond, more gently places his hand back on her chin, pulling it so she can look at him. “You will learn your place” Aemond says, as she looks up at him, with those meek eyes of hers. He loved her eyes. “Open your mouth”

 He leaned down, his mouth opening over hers, so near that she could feel his hot breath. His hand goes to wrap the bright red hair of hers, and his firm grip got her head secured. 

Perhaps Aemond would kiss those perfect lips, yet he pulled back and released a strand of saliva directly into her waiting mouth. Aemond’s fingers tightened the grip in her hair, as his other hand came up to wipe away the excess of spit. 

“There is my good girl” he murmurs, looking at her. “Mhm. I’m going to teach you a lesson” 

Aemond lifts his wife to her feet as if she weighs nothing, his grip on her hair almost dragging her to the bed, forcefully as he heard her little whines. He had a moment or two to decide which position suited best, for then to grab her hips and guide her to be on her hands and knees. He grabs the long red hair once again, angling her head to the side, because Aemond needed to see her face the same way he needed air.

She was soaking wet, and that is a satisfaction for her husband. Aemond accommodated behind her, watching her body as he positioned his cock at her entrance.

 “Such a sweet little cunt” he growls, his eye flashing with lust and desire as he thrusts into her from behind, in one swift motion. 

Her whimpers and pants are loud, as she grips on the sheets as her back is arched. She was desperate to be filled and fucked, not something unusual. The unusual thing was that… nothing happened.

“Aemond” She whines, moving her head to watch him from above her shoulder. She had that desperate, pitiful appearance that he loved.

“Yes, my love?” He asks almost nonchalantly, watching her ass, and how his cock is fully sank inside her 

She can barely think straight as his dick is deep inside her, throbbing in her walls as she just needs him to start fucking her. “Eh… move?”

“I don’t think so” he murmurs, his hand moving to caress her ass to his liking. “You’ll have to fuck yourself on my cock” His wife opens her mouth, confused as her eyebrows frown in hesitation. “Show me how much you need me” he says simply, he was fucking teasing her. “How much you need my cock”

Feeling the thick length of Aemond’s cock inside her, she accommodates on her hands, slowly moving away just to sink down onto his cock again. Her slick walls gripping him tightly as she impales herself on his thick cock. 

“Aemond… Fu-uck, you feel… oh, yes…” She whimpers, and her voice is filled with pleasure as her pussy starts getting pounded as she liked so much. If Lady Tully liked something in life, was probably getting fucked until her mind is mush.  

Her hips start moving on their own accord, as she grips on the sheets, trying to keep a stable posture to move her hips better, as her moans are obscenely loud, trying to get his cock deeper and deeper. Aemond leaves a groan, watching how she sinks down on his cock, and it is an image that would make any man cum in seconds. He truly was the luckiest man ever. 

He feels the fire in his stomach tighten, as her moans grew more and more delighted to the feeling of his cock pounding into her. At first, she had thought of it as promiscuous, and asked the maiden for forgiveness, but gods damn her if it wasn’t the best thing in life to get a good fuck from the love of her life.

“So responsive when getting a cock in your needy pussy” Aemond mutters, as one of his hands raises to spank her ass, the sharp slap only serves for the sounds coming out of her mouth to increase, and he spanks her again, and again, and again, to his own amusement and delight. 

“Please, Aemond…” 

“You just love misbehaving with me, because you know I will put you in your place” he says, moving forward to her body to grip his hair with his right hand, his left goes right next to her hand gripping the sheets to hold his weight. “Because you are a needy whore” he states, gripping her hair as she nods forcefully. 

“Yes” she says, in that whiny tone of hers. He knows her reactions yet every time they aroused him even more. “Yes, please”

The grip on her hair only serves to help him push her back against his cock, his hips now making the effort to start properly pounding into her cunt as she loved; hard, rough and at a deliciously good pace. Her body is practically numb as he starts to use her body for his own pleasure, just as she loved.

Who would have said that the most beautiful woman on earth loved being used by her husband? Definitely not him. She was the most perfect creature, in any way. Smart, funny, pretty, a good wife and mother. And yet she always craved his cock, like the filthiest whores of Flea Bottom. 

“Let those bastards hear you, hm?” He asks, as he leans to speak lowly near her ear. “How it’s your husband who pleases you. Perhaps my uncle will get the notion that you are mine. Only mine. Fucking mine. That fucking dodderer will die by my hand if he ever dares to lay his eyes on you” 

The mere thought infuriates him, making his hips slam into her harder and more feral. Rutting into her cunt in an animalistic pace as he has to clench his jaw in rage. His hand on her hair and the other on her waist, he groans at the feeling of her soaking cunt. 

The sobs he hears as his cock keeps on pounding into her sweet spot, makes him smug enough, and even more aroused. His sweet lady wife, so prone to cry when she had too much pleasure when she got overwhelmed with lust. 

“Please, please…” the round of pleas comes up with her tears, and Aemond moans, shamelessly, as he was so close. “I can’t t-take i-it… anymo-ore” 

“Oh, you will” he says through gritted teeth as he lets go of her hair, only for his other hand to go to her shoulder to help her get his dick deeper. “I will breed you. Cum so deep that my seed takes root, and everyone will know who you belong to.” 

Her nods between sobs, pleas and trembling legs help him pound in feral thrusts into her, feeling her cunt already milking him, inner walls attempting to squeeze his dick inside and never let it go.

“Cum for me, my love” he murmurs, still fucking her deep and nice how she likes it. “My beautiful wife” he murmurs, besotted by her as she cries, her tears rolling down her rosy cheeks with little freckles that he adored. 

The little spasms of her body, her wails and the way her cunt squeezes him, it’s enough to drive him to the edge, holding her body down into his cock as he moans loudly, rolling his eye back in pleasure as he cums hard. She whimpers, whining a bit as his seed just keeps on filling her, his balls tensing up as his grip will probably leave her delicate skin with red marks.

He is caring afterwards, as he cleans her with a towel, or when he places her in bed and covers her, lying by her side each time as she snuggles to him.

“You have to know–” she says softly, her fingers tracing circles on his chest. “You are hot when jealous”

Aemond huffs, grumbling about it a bit as he seems reluctant. It amuses her.

“You always find me hot, I could be… Killing a chicken and you would be leaking”

“Get on my place for a moment, please, just imagine how your muscles would flex” she says dead serious and he rolls his eye amused, as the corners of his lips gives him away.

The fixation on his hair would be a problem if he didn’t love her so much. Aemond allows his lady Tully to braid it as they talk in bed. 

“I didn’t really mean it” he says softly. 

“Hm?” She asks curious, her fingers working on a single small braid on his hair.

“You can talk to them” he says through gritted teeth. “Just-... not too much”

Her little laugh warms his heart. “Very well” she says amused. “For each sentence I say to them, I will suck you”

“I retract myself, talk to them very much, all you like” he says, and it has her giggling. “You know I love you…” he says; as it comes into his view her concentrated face, her tongue coming out of her pink lips as she was focused. He could see the freckles that he so adored, and her pretty eyes. How he loved her.

“You know I love you more…” she says fixing his braid to stick to his hair. Her mouth forms a pleased smile as she sits, as she inspects her work. “Yes. Seems pretty nice”

He could feel the hair strand tight, and he moved his hand to touch his head. “What in the Seven Hells you did to my hair, woman?” 

She looks very pleased as she giggles, her body accommodating against his chest as she shrugs innocently, as he keeps on playfully trying to decipher what his wife did to his hair. 

[thankskenpenders]

The mystery of that random magenta-haired Sonic woman: solved?

For almost three years now, there's been a little mystery in the Sonic franchise: who the hell is this lady?

Well, it seems like fans have collectively pieced together the answer. And it's more interesting than I expected.

For those who don't keep up with Sonic lore minutia like I do, this is a screenshot from the very first episode of TailsTube, released on YouTube back in March 2022. When Sonic and Tails were explaining the basics of their Earth and the fact that humans and anthropomorphic animals coexist, Tails showed a slide of some human NPCs from Sonic Unleashed. But the slide also included this never-before-seen character design, drawn in a conspicuously different, more anime-influenced art style from the Pixar-esque Unleashed characters. So... where's she from?

At the time, it was assumed that she was probably from an upcoming project. She looks like she could be an explorer of some sort, so maybe she's just an NPC from Frontiers, I thought. And then she wasn't in Frontiers. Sonic Prime, maybe? Nope, no humans in Prime. Okay, well maybe the IDW comics are going to start incorporating humans, now that the "two worlds" thing has been undone and humans once again canonically exist on the same planet as Sonic and friends. Well, if she's gonna show up in the comics, it's been almost three years and we still haven't seen her. That'd be a hell of a lead time for comics, where production cycles are typically a matter of months, not years. Time continued to pass, and we still hadn't seen her. We just had Ian Flynn teasing us with a #KnowingSmile, assuring us that she existed for some reason, just one that he couldn't talk about yet.

Fast forward to late 2024, and she suddenly makes an appearance in the last place anyone would have expected: the third live action movie, via an electronic billboard in Shibuya.

At this point it almost felt like the lore team was trolling us. Is this just a scrapped character design that's become fodder for inside joke cameos or something? Surely all of this teasing couldn't have been for a throwaway character design on a billboard in the background of a movie.

But actually, this billboard gives us an important piece of information: her name! She's labeled here as "Professor Tori." This is important because it connects her to a previous release. In Shadow Generations, Gerald's journal is prefaced with a note from the person who recovered it, addressed to the GUN Commander. In the English version, it's simply signed "T," but in the Japanese version... it's signed "Tori"!

This gives us some actual info about Professor Tori. For one, she seems to work for GUN in their Archival and Requisitions Department. She's apparently also interested in learning about Gerald and Maria's lives, like their old friend Abe is.

Jump forward again to the New Year's episode of TailsTube, and this appears in the background.

Her full name is officially given as Professor Victoria, and she's a historian. So, that seems to confirm everything we've pieced together so far.

As far as things we can reasonably assume to be correct go, this is everything we know for certain about Victoria. She's a historian working for GUN. Cool! But that's not what really fascinates me about her. For that, we have to do a little more speculation based on conjecture.

See, Shadow Generations also establishes information about the Robotnik family tree. Gerald had two sons. One of them took after Gerald's love of technology and became an expert in the field of robotics, and would go on to be Eggman's father. The other son took after Gerald's love of archaeology. This man would go on to be Maria's father. But, as Maria mentions in Shadow Generations... she also happens to have a little sister we've never met before.

So now, the question is: is this Maria's sister, Victoria Robotnik?!

We can't be 100% certain right now, but honestly, until proven otherwise I'm assuming that Victoria is Maria's little sister, now all grown up and working for GUN. It all lines up too neatly. The conspicuous reveal that Maria has an unseen and unnamed little sister, in the same game that establishes her dad was a history guy and also that there's this new historian working for GUN who just so happens to be really interested in her life. And also their names both end in "-ria." Come on!! Putting her in the Robotnik family would also explain all these cryptic clues about her identity. If she was just some random GUN agent, why be so coy and make fans piece it together?

I guess the most odd part here would be, y'know, Victoria working for the organization that killed her sister and grandpa. But Sega's been pushing the idea that GUN is trying to do better for 20 years now, ever since they established that the GUN Commander was Maria's childhood friend on the ARK and had him make amends with Shadow. Hearing that Maria's sister had joined GUN to try and gain access to information about her family history and undo the elaborate coverup of the previous administration would make sense to me, personally. And lest we forget, this would also make Victoria Eggman's cousin, giving him a family member in GUN. And that's a pretty cool storytelling tool to have on hand!

So, that's where we're at now. We have no idea where Victoria will pop up next, whether it's a game or a comic or another TailsTube episode or something else entirely. But it seems like she's fairly important, even if this speculation about her being a Robotnik somehow ends up being wrong. (But I'm pretty damn sold on this theory, personally.) Either way, it's exciting to see the human cast get fleshed out in fun ways again. If we're gonna have humans in Sonic stories, I'd rather they have anime-style designs and interesting connections to the narrative, rather than just being generic humans for the sake of having humans. I'm looking forward to seeing whatever the lore team's been cooking up here.

[madamcoheed216]

Yellowjackets Theory

THIS THEORY CONTAINS SPOILERS AND IS UPDATED AFTER EVERY EPISODE!

So my theory is that the scientists are Walters parents, this Alex is Walters birth name and he altered the birth records, and Walter is working with Melissa to blackmail Shauna and ultimately the whole team.

1. He very heavily implies that he is an orphan/doesnt have living parents after Misty questions him about Svetlana

2. He also, at multiple points, has said that he knows more about Misty and the Yellowjackets than she thinks, but only uses Adams death as an example.

3. His comment about owning a boat to leave the country by illegal means.

4. “Sherlock to my Moriarty”- Moriarty is considered to be evil/bad and Sherlock’s rival.

5. Upon meeting for the first time, Misty straight up asks if Walter stalks everyone in their Citizen Detectives group or just her.

6. Callie’s friend Ilana says that puzzles are for serial killers. Later in the season, Walter is shown putting together a giant puzzle while drinking milk (considered the trait of a psycho/serial killer in pop culture). He also sends Svetlana a puzzle in the nursing home.

7. Edwin and Hannah are a confirmed couple and Hannah admits to having a teen pregnancy. The actors are 37 and 39 IRL. Walter doesn’t have a confirmed age but could be older or younger than the girls and still fit.

I believe that Walter became obsessed with finding out what really happened to his parents because he was probably told that they were *killed by wolves* or something along those lines. That’s what leads to him getting into true crime and becoming a citizen detective. Eventually, the internet and Reddit happen and he’s able to learn more about the Yellowjackets, this team of girls who crash landed near where his parents were last seen alive. The helicopter scene is of Walter either having gone to the crash site prior to the adult timeline or going to the site here soon, given that it is roughly October in the AT, and if the helicopter was for rescue, the trees would be white or barren not changing colors. Walter targets Misty because she’s a sad individual incredibly desperate for human attention. He stole Shauna’s DNA to try and frame her for Lottie’s murder.

Walter either found the DAT tape among Natalie’s belongings in the storage unit and pocketed it before giving the keys to Misty

OR

The tape was thought to be gone, just like Jackie’s necklace, which Lottie had. Walter could’ve found the tape at Lottie’s compound at some point.

Edit: A friend on Discord mentioned that Walters last name (Tattersall) could be a reference to the Inheritance Games books. The first book was published in September of 2020 and the adult timeline starts in the fall of 2021, so it is entirely possible, especially if you are familiar with the books and the character being referenced.

[omgfangirlland]

I'm going to need all of you to hear me out on what I'm about to spew, but I have yandere!batfam brain rot, and I just came across Yan!girldad!nolan grayson.

HEAR ME OUT!

Putting a page break here cuz idk how long this will be-

So- the usual neglected batsis that as a youngster craved the attention of her fam, but after being brushed away, after being ignored, after being straight up forgotten about, says fuck it, y'all aren't worth my love, I'll use the Wayne money to do as I please.

So she does. She uses the monthly allowance that is on auto pay straight to her card to do arts, to paint her heart away, to draw and play video games, to fund and pay off anything from homeless shelters to medical bills, trying to make a dent into the Wayne fortune both in selfish and non-selfish ways. She's basically a petty tween.

But then she wakes up with powers. She thinks she's a meta- batman doesn't like metas, that's what she thinks, she doesn't know Bruce doesn't want metas in Gotham due to Gotham being ground zero for meta trafficking. Boom, panic.

I think she has powers like flying, super strength, and like immediate healing if not "iron skin" like Superman. So she wakes because she hits the ceiling due to flying while asleep. She panics, falls, maybe breaks something, nobody comes to check on her-

Now, she always has toyed with the idea of leaving, but this? THIS? Breaking point, she packs necessities and the Wayne card and says bye-bye Gotham, good morning... Chicago? NYC? Idk, whichever place Omni man lives in ig.

The batfam, of course, doesn't notice. In this universe, I think even Alfred won't have been paying that much attention to batsis, man's too busy. So what if one day he does his rounds, cleaning, opens a door he hasn't been in a while.

The room is dusty. Dusty beyond hell, and one singular photo of batsis at like a kindergarten graduation makes him drop everything, including his heart. Old man goes feral, absolutely crazy, because where the fuck is this kid, this little baby, that he went and picked up because Bruce couldn't be bothered.

The batfam goes crazy too. In the mean time-

Batsis is, surprisingly, living her best life. Initially, she planned on getting an under the table job- clean a bar, babysit, be the errand girl of some shady drag dealer, etc. But Nolan sees her while she tries to get her powers under control, shakily flying, accidentally blowing to pieces a tree as she leans against it.

Omni-man as he lurks in the shadows: Debbie would love a daughter. I would love a daughter.

Batsis would call it kidnapping, Nolan calls it adopting without extra steps. Debbie takes one look at this shaken kid and immediately goes mama mode while reprimanding Nolan about taking a kid off the streets and not warning her so she could prepare better.

Mark? It takes about 2 hours before he realizes that they can be training buddies and that they have similar taste in some things. That's his baby sister. No arguments, just baby sis. Batsis? Much like a hungry, cold cat, she accepts her fate. It does feel nice to finally have some attention on her.

So she trains with Nolan and Mark, gets great, becomes a reluctant superhero, deliberately ignores Nolan's rants about her becoming such a great warrior, his little girl on the way of becoming the greatest conquror. Gothamite batsis just shrugs it off as just a Thursday.

Back with the batfam, pure chaos. Everyone is in shambles. How could they forget about a whole kid? Their siblings, Bruce's youngest daughter. Guilt is slowly turning into madness, and madness is slowly turning into a need to prove they can be better, that they weren't deliberately overlooking an innocent child because of personal pettiness, they were just distracted but now they'll right their wrongs.

Bonus p1:

Superman finally meeting batsis: What do you mean you're Bruce's kid? 😃 What do you mean you're a meta and instead of coming to uncle Clark you go and get adopted by murderous Omni-man? 🙂 What do you mean you kinda approve of him killing his enemies? 🫠

Batsis just wants Joker to die.

Bonus pt2:

Dick: What do you mean she's calling that other Grayson boy big brother? 😀

Damien: What do you mean I have another sibling? What do you mean she's calling that purple alien bastard her little brother?! I blame you, father.

Bonus pt3:

John Constantine: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU GAVE ONE OF BATMAN'S KIDS IMMORTALITY AND MAGICAL POWERS?

The deity/entity batsis has been depicting in her paintings for years: *shrugs* I was bored, my little priestess was sad, she's not anymore 🤷

That's the plot twist, batsis is actually magical, but her powers work the way they do because that's the only way she knows how to fight with them. Magic isn't on her thought as a possibility, even if she was into the occult.

Cue John drinking for 3 days straight before having the courage(or will) to go to the Bat.

[coochiequeens]

Womens history just got richer.

When the deeply patriarchal Romans first encountered Celtic tribes living in modern-day France and Great Britain in the first century B.C.E., their reaction to the roles of the sexes was one of surprise and dismay. The tasks of men and women “have been exchanged, in a manner opposite to what obtains among us,” wrote one Roman historian.

New evidence from Celtic graves now confirms that at least one part of Britain was a woman’s world long before the Romans arrived—and for centuries afterward. One ancient British tribe known as the Durotriges based its family structure—and perhaps property inheritance��on kinship between mothers and daughters. Men, meanwhile, left home to live with their wives’ families, a practice known as matrilocality that has never been seen before in European prehistory.

The work, published today in Nature, helps explain why women in Iron Age Britain are often buried with high-status grave goods such as mirrors and even chariots, says Ludwig Maximilian University of Munich archaeologist Carola Metzner-Nebelsick, who was not involved with the research. “It’s a fantastic result,” she says. “It really helps explain the archaeological record.”

Ancient histories—not least Julius Caesar’s 50 B.C.E. account of invading Gaul—hinted at female empowerment among the Celts. “They wrote about it because they found it so weird,” says Trinity College Dublin geneticist Lara Cassidy.

Many modern historians assumed the accounts were exaggerated; they dismissed rich female graves from the time as outliers. But over the past few decades, archaeologists comparing burial practices at hundreds of Iron Age sites from Britain to Germany began to think there was a kernel of truth to the Roman reports.

The Durotriges cemeteries, located in the far south of England near the city of Bournemouth, offered a way for Cassidy and her team to investigate. Burials there began around 100 B.C.E., roughly 150 years before Roman forces invaded the island. Unusually for Iron Age Britain, the tribe didn’t cremate their dead. Instead they buried them close to home, in the hills surrounding their farmsteads.

Whereas men were laid to rest with a joint of meat and perhaps a pot containing a beverage to sustain them on their journey into the afterlife, Durotriges women are often found with elaborate offerings including mirrors, combs, jewelry, and even swords. “If you judge social status by burial goods, then female burials have vastly more than male,” says Bournemouth University archaeologist Miles Russell, a co-author of the new paper.

Over the past 4 years, researchers sequenced DNA from dozens of Durotriges skeletons in a set of cemeteries in Dorset, England. By matching identical fragments of genetic material from different individuals, they reconstructed a family tree that spanned six generations—many of whom were female descendants of a single female founder. Two-thirds of the people in the kin group buried in the cemetery shared a rare type of mitochondrial gene, a form of DNA inherited only from the mother, including some of the men who shared the same female ancestor.

Other genetic evidence from the Durotriges cemeteries pointed to matrilocality, showing that men joined the clan from other families. “Women are staying close to family and are embedded in the support network they’ve known since childhood,” Cassidy notes. “It’s the husband who’s coming in as a stranger and is dependent on the wife’s family.” Women were evidently a force to be reckoned with in this part of Iron Age Britain.

Archaeologists have found that members of Great Britain’s Durotriges tribe often buried women with more grave goods than men.Miles Russell/Bournemouth University

Such patterns could help explain finds elsewhere in the Celtic world, where women were sometimes buried with rich grave goods or even chariots. “We’re thinking this could have been quite widespread,” Cassidy says.

To gather further evidence, she and her colleagues re-examined previously published genomes from more than 150 sites in Britain and Europe stretching back to the Stone Age. Starting around 500 B.C.E., the diversity in people’s mitochondrial DNA declined, the team found, suggesting more of them shared the same female ancestors. There was no matching decline in the diversity of Y chromosomes, which are passed from fathers to sons.

That suggests communities across Britain were anchored by specific female lines, with men marrying in from outside. “The signal they see in [the Durotriges] case study can be reproduced in other British sites,” says Max Planck Institute for Evolutionary Anthropology archaeogeneticist Joscha Gretzinger, who was not involved with the work. “That’s quite a smoking gun.”

The study is part of a growing use of DNA to reconstruct genetic kinship in the deep past—and use it to shed light on the structure of past societies. University of Liverpool archaeologist Rachel Pope says the research is starting to highlight the wide variety of social organization people practiced in the past, something archaeology has hinted at over the past 2 decades.

Some of the earliest kinship studies using ancient DNA, for example, showed that Stone Age farmers in Britain and France living in the fifth millennium B.C.E. were organized patrilocally, with women leaving their homes to marry while men stayed put. The new data from Durotriges suggest that by the Iron Age, 4000 years later, something had shifted. “This is quite exciting,” Pope says. “There are moments in time in which societies seem to have a lot of high female status.”