#excited to see posts on my dash again!

[xoxoemynn]

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

Hello OFMD crew, I know this isn't how we wanted to be spending our Pride month but I'm so happy to be spending it with you.

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

[bluupxels]

if you see me reblogging stuff on my cc finds blog mind ur business

[wwerasliin-sideblog]

Hey there @whatdoeseverybodywant !! Thank you for responding (YOUR POST) so graciously! Haha it really IS nice to talk wrestling with someone! who sees some things a little different and still doesn't bite your head off 😁

[I don't think Sami or Roman needs to apologize tbh. They should just stay clear of each other's path. Since Sami is on Raw, there's no real reason for them to come face to face. Even if Sami becomes Jey's voice of reason. He needs to stay clear of Roman and vice versa.]

— Personally I would love for them to interact again, because of their history, that whole storyline they had together was pretty amazing to me. They all just worked incredibly well together and their characters were just pushed to a different level (they've all said this in interviews); depth and complexity but also humorously simple.

- If they end up interacting I would still expect at least some kind of acknowledgement from both parties. - (an apology would be even better) I think this is one thing we disagree on haha which is okay!

- BUT, if Sami isn't getting involved in the Bloodline story, then I completely agree, now is not the time for them, staying away is a reasonable choice to make. *Although, I don't know if Jey will be okay with that... I guess in a way it all depends on him.*

[Jimmy struck first bc of this. To me Jimmy wasn't gonna bust a move w/o jey. But I believe this was the 1st time Roman put his hands on Jimmy and Jimmy DID NOT like that.]

— Oh I actually agree with you about Jimmy, I never meant Sami was the whole reason for being the catalyst to Jimmy making a move, I just meant it showed him that it WAS a possibility. That it could be done. Even without Sami, he most likely, eventually would've done it himself (like you said he wasn't exactly happy, hasn't been for a while, and then Roman laid hands on him), but Sami might've given him that extra little push/courage/encouragement he needed to not wait any longer, like he'd already been waiting for so long.

— Off topic, but, Jimmy is a good brother, well his intentions are good and his heart seems to be in the right place, and sure he's made his set of mistakes and questionable choices, but he's highly underrated and takes a whole lot of blame (sometimes too much) if you ask me.

[NOW JIMMY! HE needs to go on a apology tour. Starting with Jey and ending w/ Sami. BC he made Sami belive that they were close. He was the one to make Sami comfortable in The Bloodline and he switched up on his.. so damn fast lol. ion even think it was a good 5 seconds before Jimmy pounced on Sami.]

— Friend! You hit the nail right on the head about Jimmy apologizing (I already mentioned Jey in some previous posts) to Sami and exactly why! I was going to say exactly the same thing, but decided not to because I'd already written so much and didn't want to push it 😂 But you are RIGHT. RIGHT. The way he turned up on his ass so fast.. 😭🫠🙃

Thanks again! Absolutely loved hearing from you and your side of things!! 🥰

[kyouka-supremacy]

( •_• )

[tvrningout]

i got the urge to lore dump now, especially after what i brainstormed last night, but i'm just... where do i start

[martyrbat]

👍👍

[upsidedowngrass]

BTW . hyperfixating on pkmn soooo hard lately BUT object shows are existing in my brain again SO !!!! soon... soon......

[finsterhund]

I would argue that humans have been chronically dehydrated since ... well... For a very very very long time.

Access to entirely safe, clean, untainted water is a luxury. It's a luxury not everyone can afford IN THE PRESENT DAY no less. And it used to be so much worse.

Humans possibly invented* alcohol (*fermentation naturally occurs in nature but you get what I mean) not initially for the drug aspect but because the fermentation process makes it safer to drink. There was actually studies that show increased alcohol availability around industrial revolution times lead to lower cases of deaths from waterborne illnesses. (Not to be confused with John Snow(lol) discovering that cholera cases were less common in brewery workers, because as far as I could tell THAT specific instance was more the result of them having access to different well water sources that weren't the main sources tainted by waste, which was the leading cause of cholera in large urban areas) Tainted water supply has been the cause of horrifying deadly diseases for the entirety of our species history. And the act of living in larger cities had made that worse with the water supply being much more easily contaminated with waste runoff. It's only from modern infrastructure and waste treatment that cities have become safer.

My point being is that humans have probably since recorded history ALWAYS been at least somewhat chronically dehydrated because the alternative would result in a direct increase of the risks from those two factors (water sources that were unsafe in the first place/lack of available water sources entirely, and a side effect of large communal living further contaminating what "safe" water sources we did have access to) So this resulted in our having completely normalized the side effects of chronic dehydration for generations upon generations. And it's only now in our digital age of increasingly advanced understanding of molecular biology, health, and medicine that we're discovering just how bad the situation has always been. Not everyone lived within access of crystal clear glacier runoff. Many of us relied a lot more on getting our daily intake of liquids from the food we ate instead. And it's only now that we're able to see just how drastic that difference can be. Anyways all of this is to say that access to reliable clean water should be a human right and it's something we should fight tooth and nail for especially now that we're learning just how drastic of an impact it can have. Especially in the long run. (I literally JUST learned that thing about "knots in the muscles" from this post)

The variation of water quality and subsequent safety is something I've always been aware of because I'm agonizingly sensitive to drinking water. The high sediment content (enough to stain porcelain sinks deep ruddy orange over time) in small town southern Saskatchewan water is something my hypersensitivity drastically prefers over the (still pretty hard??) heavily treated stuff of northern British Columbian cities. To the point that I cannot bring myself to physically drink tap water. At all. The taste, smell, and texture is entirely different. My houseplants coincidentally also seemingly do worse if I do not boil their water or outright just buy them distilled water. It's not just me and my silly little plants though. The mineral content in tap water can build up and damage sensitive machinery such as medical equipment which is why distilled water is used in those things instead. Pretty much everything added to tap water has some beneficial quality for us humans drinking it but that doesn't change the fact that it's being added and I'd argue the type of water/treatment you grew up with permanently influences your taste in water going forward. My grandparents, also in southern Saskatchewan but on a farmstead and without access to water mains (had a cistern/well/idk), were my primary caretakers for the first few years of my life and I drank probably more in the means of juice than what is ideal for a young child. And thanks to my autistic hypersensitive ass this would be a habit that became impossible to break when I moved to BC and suddenly the tap water tasted like "acid soap" rather than the rich flavour of the previously closest town's running water (that which was excessively rich in sediments) or my go-to always reliable consistent taste and textured apple juice (sugar addiction in humans what with us being descended from frugivore apes is its own subject entirely that I won't touch on here but yeah needless to say sugar cravings are generally something our brains tend to prioritize over drinking just plain water unfortunately)

The water fountains at parks and in my elementary school were fine and I drank from them freely. But the residential tap water... god... It might as well have been pool water there was too much chlorine.

Where I'm going with this is, stay hydrated. Hydrate yourself as much as you can. Because it's important. Humans benefit from a lot more water than the average person probably thinks we do, clearly. It can cause according to OP, chronic muscle injury. But don't feel guilty about hating tap water. You're not crazy, there ARE chemicals in there. Not harmful chemicals mind you, please don't fall for "raw water" scams, that's how you get all manner of diseases, just get distilled water then, but don't feel bad about being able to notice and dislike your local tap water and having to drink bottled water or mixing something into your water like a juice or a tea. We're all probably adapted to be a bit more sensitive than we should be to differences in water BECAUSE of our history with the high risk of contamination, which is something people out there in many places are still facing today.

Also shit like golf courses and the mass production of things like almond milk are an abuse of our precious water supply and we should prioritize that water going to people and our environment first and foremost. Don't feel guilty about "wasting" water as an individual. You're not. It's blame being shifted. Use your water. That's what it's there for. Have baths and water your plants and just play in it sometimes.

Stay hydrated my friends. By any means necessary. It's a privilege your ancestors would be beyond proud and relieved you now have. Our water being as reliably safe and clean as it is represents generations of scientific research, advancement, and innovation. Untold numbers of humans working together to bring you, the people of today, something they could only have dreamed of. And remember the importance of water in your social activism. Because it's something we need to protect as well.

[aletheialed]

To be honest, Edgeworth has been meaning to talk to Klavier for quite a while, now. Despite his flashiness and fame as a rockstar as well as a prosecutor, he's always been very capable in court - something of a genius, even, even if not all of his coworkers would necessarily agree.

That's not why Edgeworth wanted to talk to him, though. Truth be told, he's been... how to put it bluntly, worried about the younger man. It's difficult to tell if Edgeworth is imagining it or if there's really something there, but while Klavier hides it well, he's been through a lot as of late, and sometimes Edgeworth gets the impression of something hiding behind that confident smile of his... something that makes Edgeworth's gut twist to think about.

As Chief Prosecutor, he feels somewhat responsible for his prosecutors in the Prosecutor's Office - and he doesn't want Klavier to go through any suffering he might be experiencing alone, either. The problem is... well, it lies with Edgeworth himself. Despite how far he's come in the past eight or so years of his life, when it comes to emotional matters - those of the heart, so to speak - he often really doesn't know how to be of any use.

It's not a fact he's happy about... but now that Klavier has asked to see him, Edgeworth is determined to try and do something to overcome his weakness a little. At least he doesn't think he'll make things worse... right?

"You wanted to see me?" Edgeworth asks first, straight to the point as always. "I apologize for the delay... it's been rather busy lately, as I'm sure you can imagine."

@violetprosecutor ( starter! )

[emometalhead]

.

[witchywithwhiskey]

a birthday ended with a bang

pairing: best friend!steve rogers x female reader

summary: your best friend picks you up for some ice cream on his birthday on the fourth of july and things escalate.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, sexual tension, kissing, dry humping/dry sex, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (sunshine, baby), aftercare, very quick friends to lovers

word count: 4.1k

a/n: ooof i have been suffering from the worst writer's block and i seriously didn't think i was gonna be able to post anything for steve's birthday, which would've made me so sad. i finally got through the worst of it i think, as of yesterday, but so this was written in a rush and i'm sorry if it's not very good but i tried!!!! anyway i hope everyone has a happy steve's birthday ❤️🤍💙

I’m picking you up in 10.

It was just after sunset on the Fourth of July, the sky still fading from a glowing indigo into the deep midnight blue of night, when the text from your best friend Steve Rogers came through. 

His text came as a surprise. Steve had been scheduled to work all day and he’d said he just wanted to go home and sleep after, so you hadn’t thought you’d see him. Instead, you had plans to celebrate his birthday on the weekend, but you’d have been a liar if you’d said you weren’t disappointed you wouldn’t get to see him on his actual birthday.

So you were excited by his text—but less so by the implication he would be taking you somewhere.

After all, you’d already gotten comfy and cozy in your bed, wearing a skimpy tank top and shorts you’d sleep in, and you didn’t want to get dressed again. Thankfully, you knew Steve wouldn’t care what you wore, but you were a nice friend, so as you dragged yourself out of your comfortable bed, you sent him a warning. 

i’m already in my pjs

By the time he replied, five minutes had already gone by. You’d managed to collect your keys and wallet from your bag, shoving them in a little wristlet that you looped around your arm as you stuffed your feet into some sandals. You read his text as you pushed through the door to your little cottage, prepared to wait the other five minutes for him in the cool July evening. 

Idc what you’re wearing. It’s my birthday and we’re getting ice cream.

You snorted a laugh, hearing your best friend’s bossy tone in your head, shaking your head to yourself at how much you loved it while you locked your door. Shoving your phone in your wristlet, you sat down on the top step of your porch and watched the neighborhood kids run through the yards along the street waving sparklers through the air.

Steve’s truck rolled to a stop in front of your small yard exactly 10 minutes after he’d texted you. An easy smile pulled up the corners of your mouth and you bounded down your wooden stairs, hurling yourself into the cab of your best friend’s truck.

“Happy birthday!” you cried as soon as you were inside. You tossed your wristlet on the dash and slid across the bench seat to throw your arms around Steve’s neck, hugging him tight while you pressed a smacking kiss to his cheek. 

His low laugh was like warm honey trickling down your spine, his breath skimming past your cheek and making goosebumps raise all up and down your arms. Your heart thumped in your chest and you buried your face in your best friend’s shoulder, ignoring the way your body was reacting—like it always did when you got too close to Steve. 

Seemingly unaware of your plight, Steve’s hand settled on your forearm, squeezing softly before his warm palm slid up to your shoulder, his other arm digging into the seat and wrapping around your waist to haul you closer. You let out a little squeak of surprise, burying your face further in his shoulder to hide the fact that you were enjoying the way he held you far too much. 

“Thank you, sunshine,” Steve rumbled, resting his head on the crown of yours as he hugged you back. For a long, long moment, the two of you sat entwined together in Steve’s truck, just enjoying the feeling of being close, though you suspected it meant much more to you than it did to your best friend.

Finally, when you realized the hug might be getting weird, and bordering on something more-than-friendly, you extricated yourself from Steve, smiling up at him as you broke the quiet. “Let’s go get some ice cream,” you said, your voice a little lower and raspier than normal as you stared into his achingly familiar blue eyes. 

A grin spread slowly across Steve’s face, and you felt your heart beat unsteadily in your chest at the devastating handsomeness of the expression. But thankfully Steve looked away and your lungs spasmed, begging you to breathe, so you sucked in some air while your best friend grabbed a ball of fabric from the backseat of his truck.

“Here, I’ve got the windows down,” he said, pushing the garment into your hands. 

Only when you shook it out did you see it was one of Steve’s hoodies, the navy blue sweatshirt massive to fit over your best friend’s broad shoulders. On the front, to one side and below the collar, Steve’s name was stitched into the cotton. Your heart gave another flip at the thought of wearing Steve’s name stitched over your chest. 

“I don’t want you getting cold,” your best friend murmured, his voice lower and rougher. When you looked back at him, Steve wore an expression you couldn’t quite interpret, his gaze almost possessive. It made something low in your belly squirm.

Swallowing thickly, you turned your attention to tugging the hoodie over your head, inhaling the familiar scent of Steve’s cologne. For the brief moment when your face was hidden, you closed your eyes in pleasure, feeling your body heat—from more than just the warmth of the sweatshirt. Then you pulled the fabric down over your head and stuffed your arms into the sleeves.

The hoodie was big on you, but you loved the feel of it, and you smiled up at Steve to show your appreciation. Your best friend was wearing a pleased smirk, his eyes a little hooded as they raked over the sight of you in his sweatshirt. 

“Looks good on you, sunshine,” he rumbled, something new in his tone that you’d never heard before. 

“Thanks, Stevie,” you whispered shyly, wrapping your arms around yourself. You felt a little awkward under the weight of his gaze, his eyes feeling like they were burning you up from the inside out, so you gave your best friend a goofy grin and said, “Now’m all nice and toasty.” 

Steve snorted a laugh, which broke the tension between the two of you, the mood in the truck lightening instantly. Shaking his head and wiping a hand over his face, Steve turned back to the steering wheel, and shifted his truck into drive.

You started to move into the passenger seat, intent on buckling up, but Steve’s big hand shot out and he grabbed your thigh, just below where the hem of your pajama shorts ended. His palm was warm, his fingers slightly rough with callouses, and you were immediately, acutely aware of the fact that Steve had never, ever touched you there before.

Heat crashed through your core as you sucked in a gasp of surprise. Instinctively, your fingers closed around your best friend’s wrist, holding him where he was, making sure he kept touching you. You stared down at his hand, your mind spinning a little at the sight of him clutching your thigh.

Steve’s fingers dug lightly into your thigh, almost reflexively, like he couldn’t help himself from seeing just how soft you were beneath his hand. Before you could do more than squeak out a quiet sound of delight, though, Steve pulled away and cleared his throat. The fingers of the hand that had been touching you curled and flexed like he already missed your softness.

“Want you close,” Steve muttered, his tone almost apologetic, like was asking for forgiveness for grabbing you so suddenly. His eyes dropped to somewhere near your feet and you watched as his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “Please, sunshine.” His plea was rough and so quiet you had a hard time hearing it over the sound of the fireworks your neighbors were setting off at random intervals.

“‘Course, Steve,” you said, your own voice soft and breathy, almost sounding sultry to your ears. You swallowed to wash away some of the throatiness, and tried to put on a light, friendly tone to steer you and Steve back to something normal—not whatever alternate universe you’d entered when you’d gotten in his truck. “You want birthday cuddles, you’ll get birthday cuddles.”

Steve let out a small snort and, as you watched, a tension you hadn’t realized had been there drained from his shoulders. Your best friend’s eyes raised back to yours, a flicker of something restless and reckless coursing through you while a small smirk tugged at the corners of his soft lips. 

“Yeah, sunshine, gimme some birthday cuddles.” 

When you’d said the words, they had sounded friendly, innocent even. But there was something in Steve’s voice that sent a shiver racing down your spine, heat simmering between your thighs. You told yourself he hadn’t intended his words to have such a reaction and pushed your body’s desirous response to the back of your mind as you shifted into the middle seat.

Carefully, you tucked yourself into Steve’s side, wrapping your arms around his bicep and clinging to him like he was your favorite stuffed animal. The bare skin of your leg brushed against the rough denim of his jeans and you trembled slightly, the sensation feeling far more erotic than it should. Steve’s hand landed on your leg just above your knee.

It was, ostensibly, a much more friendlier grip on you, but you felt arousal flare, hot and quick, in your core. Again, you ignored it and tipped your face up, planting your chin on the edge of Steve’s broad shoulder as you smiled up at him. Steve ducked down, kissing your nose and making you giggle, seemingly back to his normal self—your slightly silly best friend.

“Alright, let’s get some ice cream,” Steve rumbled, repeating your words while he gave your knee a squeeze, using his other hand to turn his truck around on your street and head in the direction of town.

There was a slight chill in the air as it swirled through the open windows of the truck cab, the heat of the July day having burned off and leaving only the coolness of night. Thanks to Steve’s hoodie, and the way your body was pressed into his warmth, you didn’t feel anything but comfortable, the breeze tickling your cheeks and making you smile. 

For a little while, you rode in silence with your best friend, but your mind kept straying to the feeling of Steve’s hand on your leg, to the memory of him gripping your thigh. You couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have his big hands roaming all over your body, groping your thighs and hips…and other things. 

To distract yourself, you raised your voice above the wind and asked, “How was work?”

“It was fine,” Steve answered, his deep rumble sending a tremor of delight through your body. 

His eyes were on the road since he was navigating his truck through the town where you both lived, making turns to get to the small ice cream shop that would be open late for the holiday business. Still, Steve managed to shoot you a smile that made your insides flutter as he went on. 

“I would’ve much rather gone to the fair with you, though.”

A melty, gooey heat swirled in your belly and you squeezed his arm in yours, hiding a big, beaming grin in your best friend’s shoulder at his comment. When you managed to get control of yourself so you didn’t look like a lovesick fool, you raised your face again.

“We’re going on Saturday,” you reminded him, still smiling a little goofily. “Are you going to win me a new stuffie?” 

“Sunshine,” Steve started, using one hand to turn his truck into the small parking lot of the ice cream shop. “I’m going to win you all the stuffies.” His voice was warm and affectionate and you couldn’t help the way your heart beat unsteadily at his promise. Your best friend was none the wiser, though, as he parked his truck and turned to you. “C’mon.”

Steve helped you climb down from his truck, lacing his fingers through yours as you walked into the shop. It was busy, families and groups of friends getting some last-minute ice cream before heading over to the fireworks just outside of town. Steve and you fell into an easy conversation, your best friend asking you about your day to pass time while you waited in line. 

Once it was your turn to order, you asked for your favorite in a cone, then Steve got a couple scoops of dark chocolate in a sugar cone. You fought with Steve over who was going to pay. He insisted he should pay because he’d dragged you out of bed, and you argued it was his birthday and there was no way you were going to let him pay. 

Unfortunately, Steve’s arms were longer than yours and he was able to shove his card across the counter farther than you could. Grumbling about your stubborn best friend, you dropped a couple dollars into the tip jar and grabbed your ice cream. Steve followed you out, laughing at your poutiness and led you back to his truck, opening the driver side door for you and holding your cone while you got in.

Without being asked, you sat in the middle seat again, and held Steve’s ice cream while he drove, pushing it in his face whenever it started dripping. Both of you were laughing at the ridiculousness of him licking up the dripping ice cream while trying to drive by the time Steve pulled onto a dirt road that led up a hill beyond the edge of town.

After a few minutes, the trees parted into a clearing at the top of the hill and Steve rolled his truck to a stop, putting it in park overlooking the field where the town’s Fourth of July fireworks display would be. Wordlessly, you handed him his ice cream and the two of you sat in comfortable silence waiting for the show to begin while you enjoyed your sweet treat together. 

Steve finished his cone first, and you could feel his gaze on you while you licked up the last remnants of creamy goodness. You popped the last little bit of your cone into your mouth with a satisfied hum, your tongue licking sticky sweetness from your lips. 

“You have something on your…” Steve trailed off when you turned to him, his eyes dropping to your mouth and sliding along the curve of them. 

You felt his gaze like a physical thing, heat settling heavily in your core as warmth bloomed between your thighs. Then his thumb was following the the path of his eyes, swiping away some ice cream from the edge of your mouth that your tongue hadn’t been able to reach. 

Acting on impulse, and not questioning where it came from, you chased after Steve’s thumb, your tongue darting out to click the sweetness from the pad of his finger. Since your eyes were fixed on your best friend’s face, you watched his blue gaze darken and go heavy-lidded, his own mouth falling open with surprise. 

Heat filled your cheeks, making your face feel like it was on fire. “Umm,” you said, not knowing what else to say. 

It was on the tip of your tongue to apologize for licking your best friend, but just then, the first boom, pop and fizzle of fireworks sounded. Dazzling red light distracted you from Steve for a moment, dragging your eyes away to watch the fireworks display begin. You’d jumped at the first boom, the loud noise surprising you.

It was nothing, though, compared to the shock you felt when Steve grabbed your face, turned you back to him and ducked his head to capture your lips in a fierce kiss. Air filled your lungs as you sucked in a sharp breath, your body frozen while you sat there stunned, unable to do anything but feel the softness of Steve’s lips against yours.

Another sharp boom from overhead shocked you enough to make you jump again, and suddenly you remembered how to move. Your hands curled into the front of Steve’s shirt, clinging to him as you surged forward, pressing your lips harder against your best friend’s. 

Steve groaned low in his throat and your response seemed to unleash something within your best friend. Between one breath and the next, he was hauling you into his lap, your legs were straddling his thighs and his mouth was doing its best to devour yours.

You could taste the chocolate on his tongue as it slipped between your lips, exploring every inch of you and stroking against your own. Giddy excitement and heated desire swirled through your body, making you feel like you could float away as you and your best friend tasted and explored each other. 

Your hands uncurled from Steve’s shirt and slid up his shoulders, diving into the soft blond hair at the nape of his neck. He groaned again when you raked your nails softly against his scalp, his mouth going soft and slack as tremors of delight wracked his broad shoulders. 

“Fuck, sunshine,” Steve grunted, his hands pushing beneath the hem of the hoodie you wore so he could grope your hips. You rocked into him, wringing another moan of pleasure from your best friend when your heated core pressed against the bulge in his jeans. “You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed about feeling you like this.”

“Steve, I—”

Your response was cut short by your best friend’s teeth nipping at your bottom lip, making you whine and grind harder against his lap. Steve swallowed your sounds of pleasure, his big hands groping and kneading the soft flesh of your hips and thighs like he couldn’t get enough. It was better than you ever could’ve imagined.

“That’s it, sunshine, ride your best friend’s bulge,” Steve rumbled, a little bit of teasing in his tone. His lips trailed kisses along your jaw and down your neck. He sucked on the skin over your pounding pulse, pulling a whimpering sound from your mouth that was unlike any noise you’d ever made. “Ya gonna come on my cock, baby? Gonna come before we even take our clothes off?”

Your best friend’s filthy words poured over you like gasoline on a fire, turning the heat in your blood into a raging inferno. “Steve, god, please, I need…” You tried to form a coherent thought, your lips gasping for breath in between every false start, your hips working harder and faster as you chased your pleasure.

“Good girl, baby, take what you need,” Steve cooed in your ear, his hands slipping beneath your tank top and groping your tits. He plucked at your nipples, rolling the pebbled peaks between his fingers and making your eyes roll back in your head, your loud moans filling the cab of his truck and nearly drowning out the sounds of the fireworks from the field beyond. “Ride my bulge, sunshine, make yourself come all over my cock.” 

You were making a mess in your panties and shorts, your arousal soaking through the thin garments until you were certain you were leaving a wet spot behind on Steve’s jeans, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when your clit was rubbing just right against the bulge pressing against his fly. 

“Oh god, Steve, ‘m gonna…” 

Your hips worked frantically, humping against Steve’s cock through both your clothes while he murmured encouraging words in your ear and played with your tits until he figured out what made you squirm and writhe the most. Then he kept that up until you were suddenly at the edge.

“Come for me, sunshine, come for your best friend.”

Steve’s words were what did you in. His soft, murmured urging pushed you off the ledge and sent you tumbling into pleasure as you came for him.

Your arms locked around your best friend’s shoulders, nails digging into the back of his neck as bliss like you’d never known swept through your body, leaving you a shaking, trembling mess. Mindless moans and whimpers slipped from your lips, your hips still bucking on Steve’s lap as you rode out your release.

It wasn’t until Steve let loose a guttural groan, a warm wetness spreading through the jeans pressed against your bare thighs, that you realized he was coming too. You wrenched your eyes open, your gaze locking with his, seeing your own pleasure mirrored in his sparkling blue depths. Then your mouths were colliding, both of you having surged forward to meet somewhere in the middle.

The kiss was messy, mouths sliding and teeth knocking, both of you swallowing down the pleasured sounds of the other. Steve’s hands gripped your hips hard, fingers digging into your softness, helping you rock on his lap while you both rode out your releases and shuddered through the last remnants of pleasure together. 

Finally, when you were sated, your lips broke free and you pressed your forehead to Steve’s, closing your eyes as you tried to catch your breath. You could hardly believed what had just happened, and your mind struggled to catch up. 

“Christ, sunshine,” Steve rasped, his own chest still heaving shallowly. His hands were idly kneading your hips, like he was soothing any pain that might be there. “I really didn’t plan on doing anything more than getting ice cream for my birthday, but this was—wow.”

You giggled at the awe in Steve’s voice, leaning back enough that you could see him properly. His handsome, familiar face was slack from satisfaction, a dazed smile curving his mouth. Unable to help yourself, you ducked forward and sucked his lower lip into your mouth, making him groan like he was in pain. Beneath you, you felt his cock twitch, and you laughed again as you sat back.

“If you want, we can ditch the rest of the fireworks show and go back to my place?” you suggested, an eager smile on your face. 

Steve chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning forward until every inch of your chests were pressed together. You could feel the steady beating rhythm of his heart against your sternum, making your smile soften as you melted in your best friend’s arms.

“Sunshine, the fireworks are already over,” he murmured before capturing your lips in a kiss. When he broke away, he left you panting. “And if you think I’m doing anything other than taking you home and taking you to bed…” He trailed off, getting distracted by pressing kisses against your jaw. 

You hummed in acknowledgement, but then a thought suddenly occurred to you and you had to bite back a laugh. “Your birthday is on the Fourth of July,” you began in a leading tone. “And you know what that means, Stevie?” 

Instead of responding, Steve sank his teeth lightly into skin over your thrumming pulse, sucking and licking like he was intent on marking you with his mouth. Your thoughts scattered for a moment, your head tipping to the side to give him better access while your fingers raked idly through his soft blond hair.

It took you a second, but you managed to finish your thought. 

“Because it’s the Fourth of July, we have to end your birthday with a bang,” you murmured, unable to stop yourself from giggling at your own joke.

Steve, on the other hand, groaned. His mouth abandoned your neck as he buried his face in your chest, reluctant laughter shaking his shoulders. Before you could poke him and get him to admit he liked your joke, Steve was flipping you onto your back, laying you down on his truck’s bench seat and slotting his hips between your thighs. His revived bulge bumped against your heated core, making you moan softly.

“Y’know what, sunshine? You’re right,” Steve rumbled, his blue eyes sparkling with humor and affection as he stared down at you. There was so much emotion in his gaze, it nearly stole all the breath from your lungs. “We’ll end my birthday with a bang.” His hands began to strip you out of the hoodie he’d given you to wear, his gaze hungry and determined. “We’re gonna see if I can make you scream louder than those fireworks.” 

Your laughter dissolved into a hot, hungry heat. You pulled Steve down at the same moment he ducked his head, your lips crashing together in a fiery kiss that fogged up the windows of his truck, your bodies working together toward the same goal.

Between you and your best friend, you made sure the Fourth of July—and, more importantly, Steve’s birthday—ended with a bang.

[kcggggg]

We passed it a couple of days ago, but it has been 10 years since the strip "On Fire" which became the meme "This is Fine" was posted originally on my webcomic Gunshow.

My thoughts on the meme come and go, ebb and flow, and change on a dime depending on how annoyed I am that day. I should be so lucky to get to do all this for a living thanks to what it has become and helped me do, but it's hard to see the forest through the trees and it feels like I'm constantly lost in the woods anyway.

Still. It's relatable! You might use it in your office job if you have one! A lot of people do. It has kind of lost a bit of luster for me when I am still a working cartoonist trying to make something bigger and better and people just like this thing you dashed off for a comic on a Wednesday. Other artists might know that feeling. It's what we all as creators often deal with.

This strip has made me comprehend the idea of one's perception of art. I am bored more often than not, of my own art. I try to make something that excites me, makes me laugh, but sometimes you have a schedule and just need to pop something out now. That has helped me get quicker and let go of precious ideas, but it has also proven to be a double edged sword when the world at large has access to your work.

When a work gets as big as this has, is it still yours? Not talking about copyright and legal stuff. It says something larger that everyone can feel and relate to. I did not go through what Matt Furie has, but there is a similar level of control you just Don't Have anymore when your work becomes a meme on this level. I got lucky being able to ride it out a little. But it's not perfectly in my grasp. There's plenty of bootleggers and grifters who just use memes as freely as the air they breath.

But I've always tried to move forward. I rarely think about my older work or care if it's even easily available online. I'm no historian, I'm just the jester who's makin' up a story or tellin' a joke. But I've been forced time and time again with these 6 panels, to be the party pooper, gate-keeper, girlboss, etc and just to get people to recognize there are artists behind these drawings online. These memes we share.

And it feels like it's only getting harder. The best I can ask for is for people to simply forget, but the dog persists. So I do what I can and try to keep in good humor and be thankful that I can still do what I do for a living.

so anyway buy some merch. bye

[buckets-and-trees]

You're such a wicked menace, Eva!

Title: Insatiable Characters/Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female!Reader Word Count: 1845 Summary: Your new boyfriend comes along when you pick up the keys for your new apartment and conduct the move-in inspection.

Content Warnings: explicit smut (oral - female receiving, vaginal fingering, nipple play, vaginal penetration, hint at overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, cream pie)

Logistical Notes: Fulfilling my February box for @buckybarnesevents Build-a-Bucky Bingo event (forehead kiss, fingering). Follows our Desperate to Devoted couple but can be read as a stand alone piece.

Additional Notes: Honestly I didn't have any plans to return to our rivals-to-lovers couple from Desperate and Uncertain and Sure again so soon, but this gif hit a certain inspiration and may pull from some literal "reader insert" vibes as I'm moving into a new apartment right now... Also thoroughly inspired by this post coming across my dash today thanks to @ghotifishreads.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You couldn’t help the permanent smile on your face.

Yes, moving was going to be a hassle, and you didn’t have a clue how everything was going to fit into this tiny one-bedroom apartment, but being back in the place again, keys officially in your hands, the place really yours, standing in front of the bright living room windows that made your heart sing when you first saw the place, that feeling that this was your place warmed your whole chest again.

It was hard to break away from the light streaming in through the windows, but you turned your head to look at Bucky. “So? What do you think of the place?”

He was new to your life, too.

The kidnapping and rescue in Paris had been only a month ago. Over that month, you and Bucky had been figuring out what the revelation of your feelings for each other meant outside of a life and death situation. Parts of that were easy, other parts were trickier, but nothing that made you want to abandon ship.

“I think it’ll suit you well,” he answered. His smile was soft. You loved seeing this side of him, especially after so many years of angst and rivalry between you.

“You’re practically glowing with excitement,” he added.

Your smile grew to a grin, and you shrugged one shoulder. “It’s smaller than the place I’ve been, but I couldn’t resist all this sunlight.”

You turned around and looked at the empty living room that bled into the kitchen area. “I want to try and measure things and figure out where everything will go before the movers bring the furniture in tomorrow. I’m still worried about whether all my shelves will fit or not.”

You set your bag down on the kitchen counter and began to pull out a measuring tape, the blue painters tape you planned on using to map out the furniture shapes on the floor and rummaged for the hastily scribbled together list you’d made of your furniture dimensions.

Bucky had remained silent – he was often so silent you could forget he was present when you got immersed into something – and you spun back around to see him still in the same position across the room by the windows, studying you.

“What?”

“You know what we have to do before anything else,” he said seriously.

“What’s that?”

He licked his lips.

Oh.

Your stomach flipped.

“Bucky, we can’t–”

He chuckled. “You have the keys, it’s officially your place,” he said, stalking toward you. “We absolutely can.”

Before you could utter another word, he reached for your elbow and tugged you into his arms, planting a sound kiss right on your mouth, swallowing all protest. He coaxed your lips open, and his tongue licked into your mouth, drawing an eager moan from you.

Damn, he was too good at this, you thought as your hands came up to clutch at his back.

He pressed your bodies together, and you were not surprised to feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against you. One thing you had learned about Bucky over the last month was that he could be ready to have you on the turn of a dime, and he could be insatiable. That your body responded so quickly to him as well was both blessing and curse. Less than a minute and you were melting completely against him, eager for more, and you could feel the slickness already growing at your slit.

Your hands dropped down his back, but only to reach the hem of his sweater before dipping under so your fingers could eagerly climb up against his naked skin. He grinned into the kiss.

With his sweater quickly halfway up his torso, Bucky broke off the kiss momentarily to pull it up and off the rest of the way. Then he coaxed you down to the floor, spreading his sweater down on the hardwood floor and laying you gently on top of it. His body covered yours, and he began kissing you in earnest again, his vibranium arm planted next to your head while his other hand began deftly working at the buttons on the front of your blouse.

It was only another moment or two before he’d pushed your shirt open to bare your torso to him, and Bucky wasted no time in trailing his hot lips down your throat to blaze down your chest, paving a heated path between your breasts, over the band of your bra, and down your stomach. He gave your belly button a playful lick that had you gasping and a giggle bubbling up your throat.

“Bucky!”

He chuckled, and reached down to pull your shoes off as he pressed more kisses over your stomach. Then, with both shoes discarded, he knelt above you to unbutton and unzip your jeans, before pulling them down and off your legs. As your legs came back down on either side of him, his hands skimmed slowly along your inner thighs, and when they reached your core, he pressed one thumb at the base of your clothed slit and brushed it up over the damp cloth of your panties, the other thumb following just after and teasing you again there. You canted your hips up, wordlessly asking for more.

Bucky smirked, but he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and quickly pulled them off, tossing them to the side as well.

“Please,” you begged.

“Happily,” he whispered, then lowered himself down to wedge his shoulders between your thighs, pressing them wide to accommodate his broad frame. He licked a stripe up your dripping slit, moaning at the taste of you.

Your stomach swam with butterflies and your cheeks heated slightly. You had never been with anyone so unabashedly open with their desire for you as Bucky. He held nothing back when expressing his pleasure, his desire. It was a heady thing to be on the receiving end of, and you it still had you between feeling slightly flustered and drowning further in the depths of how intoxicating it was to know the effect you had on him.

He applied a second, slower lick over your folds, and then he began to kiss your lower lips the way he did your mouth, and your entire body coiled up for him, back arching, hands grabbing for his short hair, legs contracting.

“Bucky, god, yes,” the words tumbled out as you quickly began to lose more and more of your coherence.

But he was slow and torturous in his ministrations. You squirmed for more, but he held your pelvis down with one firm hand, while the other gently caressed your hip. Your fingers found his vibranium ones, and he entwined them with yours and started to fuck your cunt with his tongue.

When he heard a little whine escape from you, he began to suck your clit diligently. The orgasm that he’d been building you toward escaped from you briefly, but the switch picked right up on building that tension again, and he flicked his tongue a few times across your swollen nub as he sucked, and then you cried out as you finally tumbled over the edge of ecstasy.

He pressed a kiss to your cunt, then shifted up, quickly maneuvering his hands beneath your back to unclasp your bra and pull off your last piece of clothing. It was the only moment of reprieve he gave you, because then his mouth dipped to suck at one of your tits, and one of his hands worked into your folds, slowly stroking in and out of your tight channel. Two fingers curled into your pussy, and he quickly found one of his favorite places – that spongy spot on the front of your walls, knowing he found exactly the spot he needed as you gave a debauched moan. He slipped in a third finger, and as he sucked the hardened nub of your nipple and lapped at it, he worked to rip your second orgasm from your soul more quickly. It was clear nothing was going to deter him from his plans to ruin you in the empty apartment, and you could only be glad you were up on a floor high enough you didn’t risk any neighbors seeing in your open blinds to see the way he was taking you apart right there on the floor.

The second orgasm burst through your body unexpectedly, and it stole the breath from your lungs.

It had ripped through you so powerfully that you didn���t register the clinking sound of his belt buckle coming undone and hitting the floor as he unzipped and pushed down his jeans and boxer briefs.

But you noticed he wasn’t finished with you as he slipped one hand under your thigh and angled your hips to slot the head of his cock between your puffy folds.

You whimpered, fighting to open your eyes and plead your case as you looked into in the depths of his heated blues. Whether you were pleading for him to stop or for more, you really didn’t know or care at this point.

He hitched your leg up around his hip and slowly slid his fat cock fully into your cunt. “So damn good.”

You moaned openly, completely debauched on pleasure at this point, but clearly your pussy wouldn’t refuse him plying you with even more of it.

Deep, slow strokes.

You felt every aching inch of him as he thrust slowly in and out of your tight channel. He still made you stretch around him, and it was exquisite for both of you.

Full, so full.

In and out.

So deep inside of you now, and you could do nothing but make incoherent noises beneath him, gasping for air. “I know, sugar, I know," he murmured into the crook of your neck. "Gonna give us what we both need.”

And he fucking does, as he does every time, using your body as if he’s had you for years. He rewarded you both with an orgasm that truly leaves you boneless and breathless once he finally pushed you over the edge and then sped up his thrusts to chase his own release as your vagina squeezed around his throbbing cock. He groaned as he spilled hot ropes of cum inside of you, thrusting until he’d emptied himself in you completely. Finally, he collapsed on top of you, and pressed kisses into the crook of your neck, then along your jaw, allowing you to try and catch your breath before finally kissing your lips again.

You whined against his lips, and he rolled over, taking you with him, and letting you lay half on his chest, half against his side. He continued to kiss you lazily.

You didn’t know how long he continued to make out with you, but the sun’s rays had shifted significantly once he pressed a kiss to your forehead and you rested your head on his bare shoulder.

“It’s a good floor,” he said, almost mundanely.

You laughed softly.

“We’ll need to check the counters a little later,” he added.  

READ THE NEXT PIECE FOR THIS COUPLE: BIG CONVERSATION

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[yourwosogirly]

enchanted - l.williamson

short lil fic

pairing: leah williamson x reader

summary: after obssesing over tiktok, you take the jump to buy the perfume that’s supposed to make your partner obsess over you, so of course you had to try it

warnings: fluff, possessive leah

“sorry, baby” leah mumbled into my neck as i grunted, shifting my body weight in bed as she moved her arm out from underneath me.

“what are ya doing up?”i grumbled, voice still groggy as i rubbed my eyes and she leaned over my body, kissing my forehead .

“shh, go back to sleep, i’m going to walk nellie”she cooed, laying my body back down against my pillow, giving me one final kiss on my lips before getting out of bed.

“come on, nells!”she called out to the dog, who ran after as she headed down stairs, dog collar in hand before exiting the house.

with the front door slamming shut from leah’s exit, my eyes fell heavy as i fell back asleep.

✰

once you had started seeing about this venom perfume all over your for your page on tiktok, talking about how it was supposed to make your partner drawn to you, you were hooked. you went straight to your basket and bought the perfume, excited to get leah’s reaction.

you were sat in your car, waiting for leah to get back. today, you had planned to go out so that you could finally spend some time together, alone on your days off. you had finished getting ready, grabbing your sunnies, placing them on top of your head from the bright day in london, and slipping into leah’s car after you finished applying your lip gloss.

you checked you watch, you knew you had enough time before leah got back, having known she had not long left and would be at least half an hour.

you pulled your phone out of your jacket pocket, setting up on the holder for it on the dash board, making sure it was at the right angle before pressing record.

you didn’t do many speaking videos on tiktok, since you had been obsessed with the app mary had convinced you to join the tiktok squad with her at one of the england camps, fans loving seeing some of your content that you posted every now and then even more so if you got leah involved. if you were going to try this on leah, you might as well video it for your fans to see.

“hey guys! i just got this new venom perfume,” you said into the camera as you started to roll the perfume on your wrists. “apparently it’s going to make leah drawn to me, makes me irresistible.”

i rolled the perfume on my neck a few times, dabbing it on all places i know that leah was going to touch me .

once you had finished applying the perfume all over, you waited in the car patiently for leah to come back from walking the dog, ready to see if it would actually work.

your leg shaked nervously as you watched leah approach the car, getting in the drivers seat besides you. “hey,” i greeted her, smiling as she kissed me softly. “hey baby.”

“what’s that smell?”she pondered with a confused look on her face as she put her seatbelt on.

“what smell?”i questioned, giggling slightly to myself, i always was a bad liar.

“something smells really nice”she stated as she continued to sniff the air while i tried to keep a straight face. key word, tried.

“my new perfume maybe?”i shrugged, as she leaned closer sniffing my jumper, leaning her head against my shoulder.

“hmm, you smell so good baby”she audibly moaned as she leaned back into her seat, forcing herself to pull away.

“you like it?”you smiled at her, seeing how she bit her bottom lip, nodding and taking your jumper into her hands, pulling us closer again.

“come here”she said as you yelped, she grabbed your arm bringing you closer as she pulled you into a kiss, smiling in between as she kept saying kiss me.

“god your irresistible”she mumbled as she nibbled on the side of your neck making you arch your back in pleasure with a moan as her veiny, large hands traveled down to your hip bone .

we didn’t even make it off the drive .

[lyneira]

♡ reuniting with him ♡

-> how would the blue lock guys greet you after being away from each other for a long time?

Simply hugs you

ISAGI, Chigiri, Reo, Yukimiya, Tokimitsu, Ness

They moment they see you, they're pulling you into their embrace. However, don't underestimate the force and resolve that was put behind it.

Through the way they'd hug you, it said a lot. The way he held you so close and so tightly that you could feel his heart beating out of his chest said, "I'm not letting you go again". And indeed, he wouldn't be letting you out of his embrace anytime soon.

Kisses your lips immediately

Sae, Kunigami, Aiku, Kaiser, Raichi, Karasu

They wouldn't care who was looking, he was going to give you the deepest kiss you've ever had when you two reunite. An uncharacteristically desperate kiss from him, one that claimed you his, and reclaimed you, over and over again. Lord, he missed your taste so much. He missed you so much.

Picks you up and spins you around

BACHIRA, Shidou, Hiori, Nanase, Aryu

He'd be too overwhelmed with excitement to stay still. If you don't come running up to him, he'll be the one running up to you. He'll swoop you into his arms and spin you around, and the long-awaited laugh he had yearned to hear for so long would bless his ears at last.

He'd want this moment to last forever if only it didn't make either of you so dizzy, hehe

Leans their forehead against yours and gazes deeply into your eyes

Nagi, Barou, RIN, Noa, Niko, Eita, Gagamaru

These would be the type of people who wouldn't express much affection, especially in public. Their affection is rather quiet, more subtle, and intimate, meant to be shown only to you.

And when you're finally right there in front of him, he's finding himself cupping the sides of your face and leaning his forehead against yours, so close that your noses were barely touching.

"...I've missed you", he'd whisper, and if that wasn't evident from the intensity of his tone, then it was evident in his eyes, full of longing and adoration.

He'll leave a kiss on your forehead if he's quick enough ♡

a/n: imma be honest, I still haven't gotten so far in the manga, so I actually don't know much about characters like Kaiser, Ness, and Oliver. Though, based on the previews I've been seeing of them on my dash, I feel like this would suit them? but again, they might be ooc, idk 🥲 Maybe I'll update this post once I've read and gotten to know more about em 😭

© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS

[waddles-ex-machina]

WAHHH no way this is so sweet I can’t believe that you dedicated this one to me??? I feel so so honoured omg. this made me tear up a tiny bit jskhsjs

you need to know it has been soo much fun doing this event with you and being silly in the planning doc and ..just in general for the last 5 years (???? oh my god it’s been 5 years what the hell. insane) it’s always so much fun to talk to you and see the cool stuff you’re making andddd I really really appreciate your endless support and enthusiasm for the silly stuff I come up with and I feel very lucky 🥺 thank you for being insane abt fictional characters with me for 5 years also <3

also I CAN’T WAIT to read this AAAAA

Sketchbook Week Day 2 - Curses

Summary: "The trees are the same.

When Johanna moved back to Trolberg, it felt like everything was different. The buildings were higher, and new ones had been brought up. The streets were smoother with new asphalt, and many of the shops she’d known had been closed, usually making room for other ones. The places where there were benches to sit in her favourite parks had been switched, and even the librarian she used to chat with in her youth had been replaced by a mysterious, yet very intriguing woman.

But when she drove back to the wilderness, the trees were the same."

A Johanna character study written for the Sketchbook Week day 2 prompt - Wilderness

Notes: Written for @sketchbookweek day 2 - Wilderness

Okay, some serious notes about this fic: Do keep in mind that this is character exploration for a character that canon has yet to explore. Which is to say, so much of this is headcanons stacked together & will come tumbling down once s3 comes around. Just pretend it makes sense & understand it’s not all supposed to be perfectly explained. What matters most is Johanna’s emotions and not so much what caused them. Honestly a lot of this fic’s writing is experimental, let’s see if it lands. Also, content warning: there’s a brief mention of past abuse, but it’s in a flashback and completely skippable. I’ll put a * mark before and after, so anyone who wants can skip that part.

Anyway, more importantly: this fic is dedicated to my wonderful co-host in this event, @waddles-ex-machina. I just wanted to thank you for being not only an amazing sport in this situation we’ve brought entirely upon ourselves (seriously if group projects were all like this I wouldn’t even complain about them), but also for having been such a lovely lovely presence in the sketchbook community since the very beginning (I mean, not like you could run from being *here*, sketchbook ask and all, but you could run from being nice and you didn’t shksgdjdvd). It’s always been a joy to get to interact with you, your ideas and creations, and to me at least you’re a huge part of why this community feels so friendly and captivating. So, yeah. This got rambly but it’s my way of saying thank you for five years of goofing around with our favourite girls <3

(In case it wasn’t obvious enough from the dedication, Mattie is @waddles-ex-machina ‘s OC!! You can find more content on her at @airborneice & I STRONGLY recommend you do, you won’t regret it :))

Read it on ao3

This house says my name like an elegy

Echoing where my ghosts all used to be

The trees are the same.

When Johanna moved back to Trolberg, it felt like everything was different. The buildings were higher, and new ones had been brought up. The streets were smoother with new asphalt, and many of the shops she’d known had been closed, usually making room for other ones. The places where there were benches to sit in her favourite parks had been switched, and even the librarian she used to chat with in her youth had been replaced by a mysterious, yet very intriguing woman.

But when she drove back to the wilderness, the trees were the same.

That’s the thing about nature. It’s never still, so the constant change feels like steadiness.

It’s not the first time Johanna goes back to her former home since she was forced to move out. Twig, sitting obediently on Hilda’s lap in the backseat, was proof of that.

But it was the first time she was doing it since everything changed.

Johanna gripped the wheel as she drove, the sky perfectly blue with only a couple of innocent clouds above them, the stereotype of a perfect day. She felt in an almost dissociative state as she retraced those familiar roads, until the point where there were no roads anymore. Luckily, she had just enough of a grip on herself to interact properly when her children called, but they were more than capable enough of entertaining each other in the backseat. Johanna thought she heard Hilda pointing out different types of trees to Mattie as they passed by; she wasn’t sure. Things were quite blurry inside her mind.

Her wife’s attention was harder to shake. She noticed something was wrong as soon as they left city limits, sneaking not at all subtle glances at her every two seconds. At one point when the kids - could she even call Hilda that, anymore? - were particularly distracted, Kaisa leaned towards her and put a hand on her shoulder.

“Everything alright, dear heart?” She asked softly, her breath brushing warmly against Johanna’s ear.

Johanna nodded stiffly, and gripped the steering wheel tighter.

…......

The contrast was jarring enough that it made Johanna stop feeling like her mind was clouded with haze. As soon as they arrived at their destination, Johanna felt like she was simultaneously in the past and in the future. The future, because there was no way that that’s what their cabin looked like now, because no matter how many times she’d seen the rubble it still didn’t truly sink in on her that all that had truly happened. How could it, after all, when she’d ran away before giving herself time to process the loss, without giving herself time to think clearly -

Because if she did, she wouldn’t have gone back to that city-

- after what was probably the biggest tragedy she’d experienced, putting everything that had been salvaged in her old car, handling the mundane items with care because they were survivors, survivors just like her -

And if she’d never gone back, she’d never have any of this-

And now that same cabin was overgrown with lichen and covered in dust, as if time passed more quickly when no one was there to experience it. As if two people and a deerfox had been all that had been anchoring that old cottage to their moment in time. And now they weren’t there anymore, except they were now, except it wasn’t who they’d been because it wasn’t a girl, a mother and a deerfox, it was two mothers, a young woman, a little girl, an elf, a catowl and a deerfox. And they weren’t headed for the rubble.

That was the ‘feeling like she was in the past’ part of it. Sitting by the rubble was a cabin almost identical to the one Johanna’s grandfather had built. This one, however, put a more respectful distance between itself and the elf village, and was very distinctively painted in a dull lilac colour.

They’d decided together to rebuild it. Mattie had been growing and they wanted her to have that experience of close contact with nature. Johanna knew it would do her well like it had done her sister, to have a place to spread her wings and let her curiosity run, to live knowing what pure air felt like in your lungs. Kaisa knew that it was necessary for a young witch to be close to untamed nature, to study the stars without being dimmed by city lights, to look for that sort of knowledge where it was wild and free.

Besides, Hilda was getting to an age where she appreciated being alone at times, and they couldn’t deny that having somewhere to run to when it all became too much would do her good, and at least at the cabin they knew she’d be safe.

So the choice had been made by the two of them, with their daughters in mind. But Kaisa had insisted she handle the construction, both because her magic would make it easier and because she wanted to gift it to Johanna. Johanna, for her part, had allowed her to go forward with the plan, and never thought about how alien it would feel until she actually arrived and had to see how the hubris of her family’s former house looked in contrast with the brand new cabin.

“Anna?”

Johanna turned her head, which had been staring straight ahead, to look to the right. Her wife was standing outside of the car already, the door open as she frowned at her with concern. The children had already climbed down, and Johanna could hear Alfur’s voice as he formally introduced Mattie to the elves of the Northern Counties. The girl, for her part, looked like she wanted a much closer look at their homes, the architecture a lot more sophisticated than that of the elves she was used to back in Trolberg, but was held back by her older sister whispering in her ear that it was a bad idea.

Johanna was still wearing her seatbelt and gripping the wheel.

“Sorry.” She muttered, turning the car off and avoiding Kaisa’s gaze in favour of opening the car trunk to get their heaviest suitcases out before anyone else could give it a try.

If the girls noticed something was off, they didn’t say it. Yet the witch’s worried gaze burned at the back of her neck.

…......

The first thing you learn about witches once you got close enough to one of them, is that they take tea seriously. Even Kaisa, to whom a cup of coffee was much preferred to anything herbal or calming, treated tea as a type of ritual. Like it could heal. Like it could ground you. So, naturally, in a family composed of essentially witches and familiars, they inaugurated the new cabin by brewing tea for them all.

The layout of the cabin was exactly the same as it had been. Kaisa’s magic had guaranteed that much. But instead of making her feel like she was in a familiar and well loved place, each corridor just felt like walking a gravel path in a cemetery of memories. Some she mourned for. Some she was glad were buried under the rubble, the lichen, the dirt.

This cabin had been built to look like the former one, but it wasn’t, and she could tell all too easily. The paint wasn’t red. The floorboard in front of the stairs didn’t creak. The paintings on the walls had been either made or chosen by her, instead of her grandmother. Everything had changed.

Change was a part of life.

That didn’t mean she had to like it.

Which didn’t mean she couldn’t crave it.

”You’re really running away?” Her brother had said when she was nineteen and putting everything she owned into her yellow beetle. “That’s how you’re going to deal with the situation? You’ll just run from them?”

“How is that any different-” She’d answered, not daring to look up at his face. “- from what you’ve been doing?”

Years before, Hilda had resisted it when Johanna talked about them moving to Trolberg. She’d sighed and groaned and used every argument in the book for why living out there was so much better, as if Johanna didn’t know them all. What she hadn’t realised - and who could blame her, she’d only been a child at the time - was how much Johanna herself had been resisting it. Enough to not flee the first time their house had been attacked by an invisible enemy. Enough to build her career from a place where she had no way to easily meet new clients. Enough to raise a child with no support and to live otherwise by herself.

It had been enough. For years.

For years.

Years.

An animal that’s used to starvation doesn't realise when there’s no food.

“Hey, are you ok?” Kaisa asks in a low voice, avoiding being overheard by their daughters, as she hands Johanna a mug with the freshly brewed tea. It smells of ginger and cinnamon, and is hot enough to burn Johanna’s fingers through the ceramic.

The mug had been one Mattie had given her, one father’s day - Johanna had those for herself and left mother’s day for Kaisa, since she already got gifts from Hilda on that occasion. It was plain white, but the young girl had painted on it. Their entire family was drawn in stick figures, holding hands.

“Yeah,” Johanna sighed. At least the heat of the tea made her feel something. Something she could recognize and name, at any rate. It was more than could be said about everything else in her mind. “I’m just… thinking. this place brings up too many memories.”

Her wife matched her sigh, looking like she’d more than expected some reaction of that sort from Johanna, looking like she had hoped it wouldn’t be the case either way. The more self hating part of Johanna’s mind suggested that it was so rude of her to act so forlorn in the face of Kaisa’s gift. The realistic side of it knew her wife would never hold it against her and was just worried about her wellbeing.

“I imagine it does. Let me know if you want to talk about anything.”

She didn’t. Not really. She didn’t even know what was there to talk about. Her memories were just that, memories. They’d stayed in the past just as surely as the sunlit cabin where she’d sang her first daughter lullabies. Just as surely as the far too clean corridors of a house she’d never been able to call her home.

It doesn't matter. It doesn’t matter. None of those feelings would ever see the light of day. It’s what she’s always done.

Her silence is eloquent enough. She’d been silent enough in her life to be good at it. Kaisa bites her lip and steps away.

…......

They were telling ghost stories. Not the kind meant to scare one away. Literal ghost stories. Precisely, Hilda had begun talking about the time a ghost had stolen David’s shoes, and the trio had only been able to get them back with Twig’s aid. That led to Kaisa, head on Johanna’s lap on the couch, making a dramatic retelling of hunting a ghost around the Witches’ Tower after it had stolen her homework when she’d been a teenager. All that, only to then find out Tildy had asked the ghost to do that so she could learn lessons that were more moral than they were magical.

Predictably, Mattie heard them with wonder in her eyes, and asked if she could see a ghost as soon as they were done. Hilda and Kaisa looked at each other and cringed. Better not.

And Johanna-

Johanna only heard static.

She felt outside of her own body as she looked at her family, laughing. All she had the presence of mind to do was card her fingers through Kaisa’s hair, but not even that grounded her. It felt like it was slipping from her all the time.

*

“You think you can take care of a child? You can’t take care of yourself!”

She flinched, despite knowing that the raised hand wouldn't come down on her, that it had only ever been all talk.

“I can do better than you.”

*

Her wife looks up with a questioning look when Johanna didn’t join them in making up excuses for why their five year old shouldn’t go see a ghost. Generally she’d be the one to take Hilda and Kaisa’s anxious mumbles and shape them into actual sensible reasons.

But Johanna can’t speak. Her body feels frozen, in that spot and in every moment that wasn’t the one she was currently living.

Ashes, ashes, dust to dust.

What if she ruined this family too?

She’d always fared better when she was alone. Well, alone with Hilda. A strong girl, curious and bright enough on her own that for so long it hadn’t been an issue that Johanna was who she was. Sturdy and wild like the forest she’d grown up in.

But they were just a few metres away from proof of what happened when anything at all relied on Johanna.

Rubble, and lichen, and dirt.

The devil’s after both of us.

Something painful flashed across Kaisa’s eyes. She looked away quickly, and rejoined the girls’ conversation, not giving them the chance to see there was already a ghost in the room, with wavy brown hair and eyes that couldn’t possibly hold life.

…......

Johanna woke up in the middle of the night.

She’d gotten used to the city again. To the certainty of activity. To be back somewhere so silent was eerie; every single noise was heightened.

She immediately heard her wife’s breathing. The rhythmic sound soothed her, but only just. She wished she could hear her heartbeat, as well. Maybe that would be enough.

Then she heard the cicadas. And the wind rattling the windows every now and then. She couldn’t sleep again.

She knew how to not let her feelings see the light of day. The moon’s, however, they were much more familiar with.

The sleeping woman in her bed didn’t wake up when she changed out of her sleeping clothes, putting on much older ones she had been surprised to find still fit her. A button down flannel with a moss green sweater on top. Pants. Old shoes that had been worn down by the forest floor.

She steps out into the cold night. Her skin stings with it, and her mind doesn’t notice.

…......

The woman felt more like herself after a couple of minutes of walking. Which is just as well, since it was the middle of the night in the wilderness, anything could come out of those bushes to lunge at her at any moment, and she hadn’t even brought a compass. All the attention she could pay wasn’t enough.

Technically, if she got lost she wouldn’t be so for long. Twig and Freya both knew how to track, and Kaisa certainly had spells for that as well. She just didn’t want to worry her any more than she already had.

Besides, she had a reason for being out there. She still hadn’t figured out what it was, but she had one. She was sure of it.

Maybe.

“What could bring someone to wander around in the woods all on her own? And in the middle of the night, too?” Said a voice behind her, and the question was so good that it took her an embarrassing long while to realise that the voice had not been her own.

Johanna turned around with a gasp, her brain torn appart between ‘we’ve been approached in the woods, we should run’ and ’we know this voice, why run?’, which resulted in her simply staring like a scared animal at a face that she was sure would be lifting an eyebrow at her.

If he had any, that was.

“How rude.” Said the Woodman. “Come inside, it’s cold. For you.”

With that he turned and walked away. And she followed, because he sounded like he could have an answer to the question when she hadn’t even gotten around to asking it yet.

…......

Johanna had no idea what the sleeping habits of a creature made of bark could possibly be, and she wasn’t about to be impolite to her impromptu host by asking. But when he led her inside the very house she’d been once before, it didn’t look as if she’d interrupted anything.

She didn’t know why she’d expected it to. It wasn’t like she’d come knocking for him.

The place was cool and damp, which was probably justified by it being on the inside of a large tree. She’d been too worried to muse about it the first time she’d seen the house, but now she wondered what it felt like for him. To live inside a place that was like a dead version of himself.

She wondered if he felt anything like she did at that moment.

If so, she’d been too harsh the times when he’d shown up at her doorstep. She’d wanted to run away too, hadn’t she?

And now she was in his house.

It was a bit dizzying.

The Woodman didn’t engage her in conversation. She thought she’d be glad; what use did she have for an old neighbour poking his nose (or whatever equivalent he had for one) in her personal business, after all. Instead, Johanna found herself almost disappointed when he left her at his couch and went to the kitchen, seemingly planning on ignoring her now that he’d gotten her out of the cold. She waited for a bit, expecting him to come over with another muddy concoction he called a warm drink; he didn’t. He just kept tinkering around in his kitchen while humming a tune under his breath.

“Thank you.” She said, at last, when the silence began to feel like ants crawling under her skin. “For bringing me in.”

He didn't even lift his eyes (eye sockets?) from whatever he was doing, his back to her.

“It’s bad manners to let old acquaintances get eaten by wolves.”

Johanna forced a chuckle, but he didn’t reciprocate. Not a joke, then. She squirmed uncomfortably on the couch.

“We are that, aren’t we?” She sighed, and suddenly the Woodman forcefully put down whatever he’d been holding.

“You’re chattery. It’s distracting.” He stated, not sounding any angrier despite the comment. “If you want to talk, just say what you want to already.”

Her breath caught in her throat, a denial and a promise to stay silent at the tip of her tongue. But she realised - she did want to talk. It was a startling realisation, considering she hadn’t wanted to confide in her own wife. But that had been because she knew what Kaisa would say. She knew the affirmations and the comfort that would come if she managed to get close to verbalising what she was feeling. But Kaisa’s view was biassed, biassed by her love and the fact that she’d married her, but mostly biassed by them having met each other so relatively recently.

The Woodman, however, she’d known since she’d been a child and came to the cabin to visit her grandparents.

And the Woodman pulled back no punches.

“Go on, then.” He encouraged. “Out with it.”

The creature standing metres away from her had gifted her with logs when they’d moved out. She found herself understanding why. A piece of herself seemed like something she could offer. So she did.

“Remember when you told me that sometimes it’s better to retrace old steps than forge new paths?” She asked, and got a hum in response.

“Why wouldn’t I? I said that.”

Johanna ignored the question, figuring it wasn’t meant to be answered. “Well, I forged a new path, one I’m very happy with.” She thought of Hilda, trusting her enough to confide in her about her first crush. About Kaisa, the sheer blinding love in her eyes as she recited her wedding vows. Of Mattie’s first ever smile, aimed at her, toothless and awkward and utterly perfect. “But I’m afraid it’s too good. I’m afraid it’ll all come tumbling down because-”

Johanna sighed, suddenly feeling like there was something stuck in her throat. Words tended to do that, when you held them down for long enough. They tangled into one big mess of feelings that couldn’t be revealed separately. You let one of them out, and then everything you’ve been holding back has to go too.

“Because I’m the same person I’ve always been. Because I run. It’s what I do.”

She didn’t know where that had come from. The realisation was coming to her at the same time as the words were leaving her mouth; if she’d worked that out earlier she would have done something about it. Gone to therapy, probably. But only now that her chest felt hollow did she notice that those conclusions had been kept locked in there for as long as they’d existed.

With a disturbing raspy sound that Johanna was sure was completely unnecessary, the Woodman turned his head a full 180 degrees to look directly at her.

Or through her, it felt like.

“Digging back skeletons is always easier when you never got around to burying them, isn’t it?” He asked in the same nonchalant voice as ever. She half hoped he’d have snapped at her to stop being ridiculous, or growl that she was being a nuisance. It would have been easier to react to that than to this apathetic analysis. “You look like you have a packed closet full of them.”

It doesn’t have the intended effect on her. Mostly, because she has no idea what the intended effect should be and what on earth that even means.

Blast him for not being satisfied being a literal cryptic and having to be so metaphorically as well.

The Woodman has no such thing as pupils, yet Johanna feels with certainty that her face is being assessed. She does her best to school her features into neutrality, while knowing that he’d still read her like an open book if he so wanted.

“You said you haven’t changed. Do you truly believe that?”

He didn’t sound judgemental. Just curious.

Okay, maybe a tad judgemental, in a ‘how could you miss this simple memo?’ type of way.

“Do you make a habit of not watching where you’re going?”

Johanna gasped, immediately shaking off the grip that the strange creature had on her backpack.

“What are you?” She asked it.

“You’re not a very polite little girl.”

“I do.” She said with her head hung low. The Woodman had now moved to sit on the armchair in front of her, and she hadn’t even noticed.

“Oh, is that so? That is stupid.”

His fireplace - how morbid for him to have one - cracked. Along with the wind rustling the leaves outside, it was the only sound they heard for a couple of seconds. Johanna lacked the energy to argue, mentally, physically and emotionally. Kaisa was always going on about some ‘spiritual energy’, which she had no idea what that was but she’d bet she was running low on that one as well.

“There has not been a single time I’ve met you that you were the same person as you’d been before.” The Woodman stated, apparently undisturbed by her lack of reaction. “You say running is what you do.” He turned his gaze, almost imperceptibly, to a portrait on the wall, of a boy Johanna had known like the palm of her own hand, yet a man she didn’t at all. His voice softened. “Well, nature changes. It’s what nature does. And you’re part of it.”

Johanna chuckled darkly. “I’m too old to change who I am, Woodman. And who I am hasn’t ever been enough.”

Rubble, and lichen, and dirt.

The look he gave her wasn’t one of pity, though she couldn’t be sure that wasn’t just because his face only allowed for a very limited amount of emoting. “One’s never too old to grow up. And you’ve grown. A lot.”

She bit the inside of her lip, something irksome unfurling on her low belly. “Change is scary.”

“Is it worth it?”

“Yes.” She doesn't hesitate for a moment

“Well, then.” He shrugs as if he’s saying the most obvious thing ever. “Do it scared.”

…......

The Woodman walks back to the cabin with her. Her cabin, that is. He doesn’t ask if she wants him to. He doesn’t say why he does it. Just silently helps her find her way back home. It’s not as cold outside anymore, nor as scary. The sun is rising, and it’s not exactly bright yet and the shadows are still soft and unthreatening. When they’re close enough that the lights of the elf village are within sight, he begins humming a tune she is certain she knows, but can’t remember. Something that itched at her memories, but in a good way for once.

“Want to come in for breakfast?” She asks once they are out into the open field that surrounds the elf village and the cabin. There’s no way to know if they have anything he’d even eat at their house, but it felt like the least she could do was ask. They could see the sky more clearly, now. It was orange and pink, like the roses that Kaisa liked to give her.

“No need. But do tell Hilda, Mattie and the witch that I’ve sent my regards.”

“I will -” She nods, thankful for his help and completely at loss for how to express it. And then it dawns on her, slowly yet strongly all the same, just like the dawn she was currently witnessing, that she’d never told the Woodman who she’d married or that she’d had a second child, nor said child’s name. “- wait how do you -” Johanna turned to look past her right shoulder, where the Woodman had been, but the creature was already gone “know…?”

There was no time to dwell on that, nor to wonder if she’d perhaps hallucinated the entire night, because she immediately heard her wife’s distressed voice calling out to her.

“Anna!” Said the witch, who was sprinting from their cabin door directly into her arms, carrying her wand. Johanna’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of tear tracks on her face, but it was soon squeezed out of her by the collision of their chests when Kaisa locked her into a desperate hug.

“I was looking for you for hours.” Being bitten by one of the wolves that roamed those woods would have probably hurt less than hearing the despair in Kaisa’s voice did. “Are you hurt? Where were you?”

Johanna didn’t let her lift her gaze or step away to check for injuries, keeping her wife as close as possible, the shorter woman’s face in the crook of her neck.

“I’m okay.” She admitted with guilt cutting at her heart. “I’m sorry, love. I’ve been a mess, and I didn’t even know how to talk about it. Went for a walk to clear my head, but I didn’t realise I’d been away for so long. Didn’t want to worry you.”

“Yeah, you did.” Kaisa whined with a lot of relief and barely any anger. “Don’t do that again, please. Leave a note. Take a flashlight. Anything.”

Her chin resting on top of her head, Johanna squeezed her tighter, eyes falling shut. “I will. I promise. Are the girls - ?”

“Hilda woke up when I was searching the house for you. She wanted to help, but then Mattie woke up as well, so she agreed to stay in their room playing with her so she wouldn’t notice you were missing.”

Johanna let out a long exhale. She’d been irresponsible. Her family deserved better.

But they wanted her nonetheless.

“I really am sorry. And I want to talk to you about it. I want to try, at least. My mind has just felt like it’s been on fire lately. I’m not as unbothered by things as I thought I were.”

Kaisa lifts up her gaze. Her tears have mostly dried, but her eyes are still red. Johanna reaches down to press the gentlest of kisses to their lids, as if that could make it better.

“Having second thoughts?” The witch asked in a small voice, as if Johanna could ever be anything less than sure when it came to her.

“Never.”

“Then what -”

“I don’t know, dear.” Johanna sighed. “I just know there’s too much of me in this forest. That means the parts I don’t like, too. So being back is…”

She leaves the sentence there, knowing Kaisa would read her sufficiently well to complete it in her mind. The librarian took a hand that had been at the small of her back and brought it to cup Johanna’s chin.

“We’ll talk about it.” She whispered. “When you want. When you’re ready. I’ll help however I can, you know that.”

Johanna wasn’t able to nod in her hold, but she tried it anyway. Kaisa’s eyes sparkled with the rising light.

“But there is not a single part of you I do not like, Johanna. You’ll do well to remember that next time before running off dramatically into the woods again.”

Her laughter was cut short by a kiss pressed to her lips, which was also eventually interrupted by a young woman running to them with a giggling child in her arms.

Tell me I am good enough.

They played cardboard games the entire morning. In the afternoon, Alfur gave them a proper tour of the village.

Oh, lay my curses out to rest

She brought a tray with breakfast for Kaisa come morning, before she’d even woken up, and this time left a note that she’d be at the forest for a bit with Hilda and Twig, for old times’ sake.

After the weekend was over, they went back to Trolberg. And they all remained the same: ever changing.

Make a mercy out of me.